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randomshyperson · 3 years

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Wanda X Reader - 10 Things I hate about you - Part One

Summary: Pietro Maximoff is handsome and popular, but he can't date before his twin sister. The problem is that no one can get close to his sister, Wanda Maximoff. To resolve the situation, a girl interested in Pietro bribes a colleague with a mysterious past to go out with Wanda and, who knows, try to win her over. Or The one directly inspired by 10 Things I Hate About You.

Words: 6.553K /// Read on AO3 too || Part Two

Warnings: PG, fluff, language; goth wanda is back thank god.

Notes: If English is your native language and I used slang that doesn't make sense at all, forgive me. It is really hard to translate many dialects from Portuguese to English. Anyways enjoy your reading!

You rode your skateboard to school today. Your mother was angry with you and took the keys to your motorcycle while yelling that you were difficult to raise, so you grabbed your backpack and skateboard while slamming the door on your way out.

It didn't take long to get to school, though.

You absolutely hate this place. Sometimes you get the impression that you are surrounded by completely mental people.

You walked across the parking lot and got off your skateboard, quickly waving to your friend Carol Danvers, who was smoking leaning against the wall of the school building. You would have to talk to them later, as you had a meeting scheduled with the school principal.

Shrugging off the students as you entered the building, you ignored the stares you received and headed toward Ms. Harkness' office.

You entered without knocking because the door was already open, since she was talking to another student, and when the stranger got up she almost tripped over you on her way out. The principal raised her eyes from her notebook to you, and smiled wryly.

- Well, well, Miss Y/L/N. - she said. - I see these encounters of ours are becoming recurrent.

- I like to be around beautiful women, Miss Harkness. - You stated with a charming smile and crossed arms. The woman laughed lightly as she returned her gaze to her notebook.

- Let me see what happened here. - She mumbled to herself, probably trying to find the notes. - Wow, top nudity exhibit in the cafeteria.

You scratched your head impatiently.

- They were melons, Miss Harkness. - You clarified. - I was making a little joke.

Harkness let out a wry chuckle as she stood up.

- How about you keep them under your blouse, huh? - She scoffed, pointing slightly at the height of your breasts and giving you a wink. You frowned. - Out!

You startled slightly, and Mrs. Harkness giggled, returning to her seat.

You blinked in confusion and turned away, mumbling wryly that she was an excellent professional before you left.

//-//

Carol was waiting for you outside the room, a few feet ahead in the hallway against her own lockers, and you greet her with a kiss on the cheek quickly.

- How did it go today? Did she say anything interesting? - Carol asked with humor in her voice. You leaned your back against the closet, letting out a chuckle.

- No way. - You replied. - She just told me to keep my breasts under my blouse.

Carol laughs lightly, while you check your cell phone. And then she touches your arm lightly. When you raise your eyes to her, she signals the corridor.

- New faces. - She nods, and you notice that it's the same girl who bumped into you in the Harkness room. Now she is accompanied by Bruce Banner, who was clearly showing her around.

- Wow, people keep choosing to come to this place. - You mock, making your friend laugh a little.Carol then checks the clock on her wrist and signals that she needs to get to her history class. You say goodbye to her, but get distracted by your cell phone again, and then the bell rings, and you have to run to get to the literature room on the other side of the building.

//-//

You stumble into the room, and all the students turn to look at you.

- What have I missed? - you ask, trying to normalize your breathing after running through the halls.

- The oppressive patriarchal values that determine our education. - replied a girl you didn't know.

- Nice. - You grumble with a slight laugh, as you hurry to sit in the back of the room.

- You must love detention, don't you, Miss Y/L/N? This is your third delay this week. - commented the teacher as soon as you sat down. Several giggles were heard, but you didn't pay much attention. You threw your bag on the chair and tried to pretend that you were interested in whatever Professor Fury was teaching.

- Professor Fury, any chance you could ask Wanda to take her Midol before coming to class? - scoffed Pepper Potts, one of the most popular and insufferable girls at this school. You rolled your eyes at the teasing, and leaned back as the rest of the class giggled.

- One of these days Mrs. Maximoff is going to punch you in the nose, and I'm not going to do anything to stop her. - Fury replied seriously, wiping the ironic smile off Potts' face. - And Wanda, I want to thank you for your point of view. I know how hard it must have been to overcome all those years of upper middle-class suburban oppression. It must be hard. - He sneered and then started walking toward the girl who was probably Wanda. - But the next time you protest about demanding better food, or whatever it is that white kids protest about, ask them why they don't buy books written by black people!

You let out a little laugh, and Professor Fury looked at you seriously.

- Do you find something funny, Miss?

You shrugged, straightening your posture.

- Sorry to interrupt your speech, Mr. Fury. - You say. - But you're blaming Wanda for something she has no control over. Wouldn't it be better to suggest books written by black women, instead of separating the fights?

Professor Fury blinks in irritation at you, while Wanda looks in your direction, looking surprised.

- Out. Principal office. - says the professor, and you blink in surprise. - Both of you, by the way! You pissed me off!

You grumble, and grab your backpack and leave the room, with Wanda following behind. But you don't speak to her, and when you leave the room, you go to opposite sides of the hallway, since you had no intention of seeing the principal at all.

//-//

You ended up skipping the last two classes of the day while sneaking a smoke with Carol behind the bleachers of the soccer field.

And then you accepted the ride home that she offered you.

- See you tomorrow, troublemaker. - She said good-bye, and you just nodded as you walked toward the front door.

Your mother was at home, sitting at her computer in the living room, and you thought maybe you could sneak past her, but as soon as you closed the door she turned around with her arms crossed.

- The school called. - She said as she stood up, and you let out an impatient sigh as you threw your backpack on the floor by the door. - Are you trying to get suspended?

- Oh yeah, that's my dream. - You scoff, walking toward the kitchen.

- You're going to be grounded.

- I'm already grounded. - You retort softly, and your mother walks over to the counter.

- You think I'm kidding? - She exclaims angrily, and then she's heading down the hall, and you're curious what she's going to do, so you follow her through the house to the garage. You look impassive as she glances around, but then she grabs a hammer and screwdriver from the cabinet and heads for her motorcycle. Your whole body tenses up, but before you can do anything, your mother is breaking your bike.

- You've gone crazy! - You shout as you run toward her, but she turns threateningly toward you with the objects pointed in your direction

- No more fighting! - she shouts. - You're not going anywhere on this damn motorcycle, do you hear me? You are grounded until college.

And then she throws the tools on the floor, and leaves the garage. You take a deep breath, trying not to break everything in front of you, and turn to your motorcycle. Some parts were broken, but you could fix them. The problem would be having the money to do it.

//-//

Tuesday started with biology. And you were really pissed off about the whole thing with your mom and your motorcycle. The professor asked the groups to dissect frogs, and the damn scalpel he handed out wasn't cutting anything. So you grabbed your knife hidden in your boot, and angrily pierced the animal.

- You've lost your mind, put that away! - ordered Carol sitting next to you as she looked around to see if the teacher had seen. You let out an angry sigh and put the item away.

You were bored, and you smoked when you were bored. So you turned the valve on the experimental flame on the bench while putting a cigarette in your mouth, and walked over to light it.

- Girl, what's the matter with you today? - Carol asked impatiently, closing the valve and taking the cigarette out of your mouth.

You mumbled without answering, and she let out a dry laugh before going back to writing. Your gaze wandered around the room and you thought that the new girl and Bruce Banner were looking at you from the table in front of you, but they looked away quickly, so you got distracted again.

//-//

The next class was better because it kept your hands busy. Mechanics with Professor Howard Stark was interesting as he allowed the students to experiment as much as they wanted.

At this moment you were welding a car part while trying not to burn your fingers when you heard a female voice next to you.

- Hi, how are you? - the girl said, and as you turned you realized that it was the new student. You frowned confused, you don't talk to anyone. You thought you should have an aggressive posture, because the girl's voice trembled a little, and then she quickly said good-bye and left the room. You shook your head and went back to concentrating on the lesson.

- What the hell was that all about? - Carol asked from beside you, and you shrugged.

- I told you there are only crazy people in this school. - You remarked with amusement.

- But we go here. - She retorted with a smile.

- Exactly.

Carol laughed and turned her attention back to her own activity.

//-//

In Gym class, the teacher took all the students to the outdoor field, where the rugby team was practicing. He was more concerned about the girls' performance, so he let the rest of the class do as they pleased. Then you and Carol sat down on one of the benches, while you shared a cigarette.

And you had about ten minutes of peace before Pepper Potts and one of her friends came to talk to you.

- Hey, what's up? - asked the blonde, and you looked at her with irony.

- Are you lost? - You replied aggressively, but she didn't seem intimidated.

- See that girl over there? - She said, pointing quickly toward the field. You followed her direction, and it was the same girl from literature class. - That's Wanda Maximoff. I want you to go out with her.

You laughed, shaking your head, and then took a drag on your cigarette.

- As if, preppy. - You denied it as you exchanged a look with Carol, who was grinning in disbelief.

But Pepper was not joking.

- Look, I can't go out with her hot brother until she dates. - She clarifies. - Their father is kind of crazy, he made a rule...

- Touching. Really. I'm moved. - You mock without patience. - But that's not my problem.

- Would it be your problem if you were paid a nice fee?

You let out a dry laugh, looking at her in surprise.

- Are you going to pay me to go out with someone? - you ask, and Potts has a smile on her face as she nods in agreement. You laugh again. - How much?

- Twenty dollars.

You raise your eyebrows, really considering this for a second. And then you look toward the field, and watch as Wanda fouls a girl to the ground, and you swallow dryly. This girl was going to eat you alive.

- Okay, how about 30 bucks? - Potts next suggests when she sees the foul.

You thought about the parts of your motorcycle that you would have to buy. And you licked your lips before you spoke.

- Let's take a good look at this. - You start. - If I take her to the movies, it will be fifteen dollars. And if we buy popcorn, it's fifty dollars. I like to buy candy for the girls, so it would be about seventy-five.

- This is not a negotiation. - Potts retorts angrily. - Take it or leave it, mutt.

You let out a humorless laugh.

- But I think it is, Potts. - You retort, smoking your cigarette again. - Or I'll go over there now and tell Wanda your whole touching little tale.

Potts blinks in irritation, and lets out a wry laugh. But then she relaxes her posture.

- Eighty dollars. - she says. You smile, throwing the cigarette on the floor and putting it out with your foot.

- Deal, Hollywood. - You tell her, and raise your hand in her direction. Potts rolls her eyes, but takes the money from her pocket and hands it to you.

She and her friend then leave, and you settle into your seat.

- You're crazy. - Carol declares afterwards.

- Yes, I know. - You say, brushing your hair out of your eyes with your hands. - But I need new parts. It'll be harmless, it's just a date.

- I hope you're right. - She comments with a laugh, turning her attention back to the field. And then practice ends, and you exchange a look with Carol before getting up and walking toward the players' benches.

You assume your most charming pose as you approach Wanda.

- Hey, pretty girl. - You greet her with a smile as she drinks water from a bottle. She frowns in surprise, and has a wry smile on her face. - What's up?

- I'm sweating like a pig, how are you? - She answers wryly, and you smile awkwardly.

- Wow, that sounds attractive. - You reply in the same tone, watching her put the bottle of water in her backpack on the bench.

- Oh, yes. My goal in life is to look attractive all the time. - She scoffs, frowning. - But I guess it works, since I got your attention. The world makes sense again.

She starts walking toward the exit of the camp, and you are a bit taken aback by the irony, but hurry to keep up with her.

- I'll pick you up on Friday, then. - You tell her, and Wanda lets out a laugh.

- Sure, Friday. - She wryly continues walking.

- Hey, it's the night I take you to places you've never seen.

- To a convenience store on Broadway? - She replies with irony. - Girl, do you even know my name?

You laugh.

- Wanda. - You answer, but she doesn't seem impressed. - And I know more than you know.

- I doubt it. I doubt it very much. - She said ironically and you stopped following her, biting your lip as you watched her walk off the field.

//-//

Your first attempt to get a date with Wanda had not gone well at all, but you are optimistic. And then, on Saturday of that same week, while you and Carol were at the laundromat on the corner of your houses, she nodded slightly outside through the window.

- Isn't that the car of the girl you're being paid to date? - She mocked, and you sighed.

- Don't talk like that. - you said as you put the coins in the washing machine. - It makes me sound like a psychopath.

She laughed without looking at you, kneeling on the waiting couch as she looked out the window.

- I think I should look for a new rejection. - You grumble, handing Carol some coins. - Take care of my clothes while I go talk to her, please.

Carol nods in agreement as you leave the establishment. Crossing the street, you look in the direction of Wanda's car. It is nice, and you are watching the tires as she arrives.

- Are you following me? - She asks with a mixture of aggressiveness and surprise.

- What? Of course not! - You deny it, but with the suspicious look on her face, you try to add. - I was in the laundry room, smarty-pants. I saw your car, and wanted to say hello.

She lets out a sigh, and shrugs her shoulders, heading for the door. You hurry to stand in front of her, a charming smile on your lips.

- I notice that you don't talk much. - You remark, and Wanda frowns, crossing her arms.

- It depends on the subject. - She says. - Talking about the tires on my car doesn't cause me a verbal frenzy.

- You're not afraid of me, are you? - you ask, and she looks at you incredulously.

- Why would I be afraid of you?

- Most people are. - You retort, and Wanda rolls her eyes with irony.

- Well, I don't.

You smile and move a little closer.

- Not afraid, but I bet you've imagined me naked, haven't you? - You tease and give a little wink. Wanda keeps her face almost angry.

- Wow, is it that obvious? - She retorts. - I want you so bad, baby.

She mocks last before bending down slightly and opening the car door, pushing you with the metal.

You let out an impatient sigh as you step back, and she gets into the car and prepares to leave. You stand with your arms folded trying to think how exactly you are going to make this work.

And then Pepper Potts parks her car right behind Wanda's, preventing her from leaving, while the blonde steps out of the vehicle with a smiling, arrogant posture.

- My God, is it idiots' day today? - Wanda complains from inside the car. When Pepper passes by her window, she shouts: - Do you mind girl?

- Not even a little, bitch. - Potts retorts without looking at her as she walks away.

But then Wanda is backing the car up, and the next moment Pepper's red Cadillac has a big bump mark on the side. You laugh in surprise, not believing that she had actually hit the car.

- My God, you are completely crazy! - Potts shouts as she observes the impact.

- Oops. - You hear Wanda scoff.

You laughed again, before going back to the laundry room.

//-//

It was Monday again, and you were trying to have a quiet day. But while you were putting your books away in your locker, Potts approached you.

- When I pay for something, I expect results. - She says, and you close the closet to brace yourself against it.

- I'm trying.

- Watching that lunatic destroy my car doesn't count as a date. - She retorts with mild irritation. - If you don't go out with her, I won't get Pietro. Then get something soon, okay?

That girl's audacity pissed you off.

- I just raised the price. - You tell her, and she looks at you in disbelief.

- Excuse me?

- One hundred and fifty dollars a date. - You say. - In advance.

- Forget it. - She said angrily, turning away.

- Then forget about her brother.

Potts lets out a grumble and then turns to you again, hurrying to get the money.

- Does this kid have a gold dick by any chance? - You scoff, and Potts gives you the middle finger, making you laugh.

- You better get the date, sister. - She says, and you just smile before heading off in the direction of the mechanics' classroom.

//-//

You were trying to find the correct melting point for one of the tools when you were approached by the same girl as the last time you had mechanics.

- I know what you are trying to do with Wanda Maximoff. - She announces, and you let out a wry chuckle as you continue your attention to the tools in front of you.

- Really? And what are you going to do about it?

- Help you.

You blink in surprise as you raise a large metal bar at your eye level to identify its features.

- Why? - you ask, and it is not the girl who speaks next.

- The situation is that my friend Monica, is in love with Pietro Maximoff. - A male voice speaks, and then you look quickly to identify Bruce Banner.

- God, this kid must really have a gold cock. - You mumble with irony as you place the iron bar on the table, and take off your protective gloves.

- Believe me when I tell you that Monica's love is pure, she wants to date him. - Banner explains as you walk to another table in the room, looking for your notes. - Unlike Pepper Potts, who only wants to use him as a trophy.

- Look, I'm only in this for the money. I don't give a shit who Potts is fucking. - You respond without patience, and Monica seems to get irritated with you, but Banner calms her down.

You make some notes regarding the lesson and walk over to the table to analyze the pictures of the tools as you organize them. Monica and Banner follow you.

- Listen, Y/N, we are the ones who planned this story so that Monica and Pietro could date. - Banner says. - Potts is just the go-between.

You laugh with surprise.

- And you are going to help me win Wanda over?

- That's right. - They both say in unison. You turn your attention back to the materials in front of you.

- We will investigate what she likes. - Banner says. - You need our help.

Bruce smiled amiably, and you laughed at the posture he assumed.

- Look, we'll start here. - He began by pulling a piece of paper from his pocket. - On Friday, Stephen Strange is having a party. It's the perfect opportunity.

- Perfect for what? - you ask, looking at him.

- For you to invite Wanda. - He clarifies, and you sigh impatiently, already tired of this conversation.

- I'll think about it. - You say finally and walk to the other side of the room, and this time, they don't follow you.

//-//

It was Wednesday, and you and your friends went to a bar to play a bit of pool shortly after school. Your mother had no idea you were here, but she was working, so she wouldn't know.

You got a text message from Bruce, wanting to meet you along with Monica, and you laughed when you sent the location. They really weren't the kind of people who hang around this place.

You were upstairs, drinking some beer when you saw them come in, and nodding slightly to Carol, you went downstairs and walked over to them.

- So, what do you have for me? - you asked, leaning against a wall.

- Before we get started, I have a question. - says Bruce. - Is it true that you are on probation?

You laugh in surprise.

- What?

- Bruce, shut up. - said Monica, tapping her colleague on the shoulder. And then she turned to you. - First thing, Wanda hates smokers.

- Okay, I hate them too.

You mock, but Monica and Bruce look serious, so you sigh, and take out of your pocket your cigarette case, handing it to the girl.

- There is another problem, Pietro told me that Wanda likes pretty girls.

They look at you for a moment and you frown.

- Are you saying that I'm not pretty? - you ask, straightening your posture.

- You are beautiful! Monica, she's so beautiful, what are you saying? - hurried Bruce almost in terror. You wanted to laugh.

Monica nods quickly in agreement, and you lean back against the wall.

- Look, I made a list. - She hastens to say, pulling a piece of paper from her shirt pocket. - Wanda's tastes are: Sokovian food, feminist poetry, punk and alternative music. And there is a list of the CDs she had in her room.

She says, handing the paper to you. You let out a sigh.

- So should I buy some soup, a book, and ear plugs for some really noisy concert?

They both shrug, smiling slightly.

- Have you ever been to the Skrull Club, west side of town? - Banner asks.

You chuckle.

- It's a nice place, but not really my style.

- Well, it will have to be. - says Monica. - Her favorite group is playing there tomorrow night.

You run your fingers through your hair, sighing.

- Come on, Y/N, it's only for one night. - says Banner. - We're sure she'll be there, Mon found the tickets.

- She also has a black lingerie set. - Added Monica and you frown with confusion.

- Why is this relevant? - You asked, and Monica looked away, looking embarrassed. You laughed lightly, but didn't push it. Then you looked at both of them. - Okay, I'll drop by.

Bruce and Monica both let out excited exclamations and then waved goodbye. You laughed and shook your head, wondering what you had gotten yourself into.

//-//

The Skrull Club was generally frequented by the punk crowd in town, many women from extremist feminist movements hung out here. But in general it was a pretty diverse crowd of rockers, punks, goths and allies. And the drink was cheap.

You received a few curious glances as you walked through the dimly lit corridors of the nightclub, but it was more because these clubs were generally frequented by the same people, and you’re a familiar face.

The place was very crowded, and you had to dodge a lot of people until you reached the main dance floor, trying to find Wanda.

You smiled when you finally saw her, in the first row, dancing with a girl who was also from your school. You thought she looked pretty, in her black dress and red jacket, plus a knee-length black stocking and dark boots on her feet. She might have looked intimidating, but she was still very pretty.

You don't quite understand why your heart races at the image of her dancing and smiling, so you think it best to get a drink, and turn toward the bar.

You sit there, trying to decide how you are going to approach her, but then Wanda is coming toward the bar, and you disguise yourself by looking the other way.

- You don't give up, do you? - She says as soon as she sees you. And walks over to where you are sitting. - If you're planning on asking me out, you can just give up!

- Do you mind? I'm trying to hear the music. - You hit back without looking at her.

-You're not surrounded by your typical cloud of smoke. -She comments after a moment, and you take a sip of the drink you ordered before answering.

- Yes, I quit. They say it's bad for your health. - You say it with a slight irony.

- Do you think so? - Wanda looks slightly surprised, and you give her a short smile before standing up.

- These guys aren't the Kree's, but they play well. - You comment on her favorite band before heading off toward the dance floor. Wanda hurries to follow you.

- Do you know who the Kree's are? - she asks in surprise.

- Why, you don't know? - You reply with irony.

She doesn't answer, looking mildly impressed. You smile briefly.

- I was watching you dance. - You comment as the band is finishing the song. - I don't think I've ever seen you so sexy.

And then the song ends exactly with your line, and the whole club hears you. Several people giggle, and you feel your cheeks heat up, but Wanda laughs too, and that relaxes you.

- Come to Stephen Strange's party with me. - You ask her. And she tilts her head slightly to the side, still smiling.

- You never give up, do you?

And then another song starts, and Wanda is coming back to the front of the stage.

- Is that a yes? - you shout at her.

- No!

- Was that a no?

It takes a second, but she shouts back.

- No!

You grin.

- See you at 9:30! - You shout to her before she disappears into the crowd.

You're smiling all the way home.

//-//

You were early. But you were so anxious about it that you left the house as quickly as possible.

And then you arrived at Wanda's door, but as soon as you went to knock, she opened it.

- What are you doing here? - she asked in surprise.

- 9:30. - You answer. - Yeah, well, I'm early.

- Whatever, I'm driving. - She says and then you look into the house and see Pietro Maximoff with a kangaroo baby carrier outfit occupied with a doll and frown.

- May I ask what that is? - You remark, and Wanda just rolls her eyes at the scene, then turns to you.

- My father is a little neurotic about this whole pregnancy thing. - She answers and walks outside. You both wait for Pietro.

- At least he doesn't use a real baby. - You joke and Wanda smiles. But then Pietro leaves the house, looking slightly annoyed, and you hurry to Wanda's car.

It doesn't take long to get to the party.

The place was packed. Probably the whole school was here. And as soon as Wanda found a parking place, Pietro got out and disappeared into the crowd.

You decided to accompany Wanda as she entered the house. You went toward the second floor, and you lost sight of Wanda when a girl jumped on you, completely drunk and trying to kiss you.

- Wow, slow down there. - You said, helping her sit up. You found several empty and sealed bottles of water in one of the liquor containers around the house and handed one to her. - I want you to drink it all, okay?

The girl whimpered in confusion, but you waited. She seemed better, but you handed her another bottle just to be sure.

- Hey Peggy, I found you! - said a skinny boy you didn't know, walking up to you. He frowned, slightly startled, when he noticed you.

- Are you a friend of hers? - You asked him with distrust, and he nodded, looking mildly frightened.

- Yes, he is. This is Steve. - mumbled the girl sitting up, looking like she had a headache. - Thanks for the water, by the way.

- No problem. - You say. - Are you feeling well enough to be alone?

She nods slightly as she speaks:

- Yes, yes. Steve will take care of me now. Thanks again.

And then you patted Steve on the arm, and left the two of them, walking back through the crowd.

It took you many minutes to find Wanda again, because the party is so crowded. And when you reached her, she was pouring a glass of drink into her mouth.

- Hey, I've been looking all over for you. - You announce mildly annoyed. - What the hell are you doing?

- Getting drunk! - she answers ironically. - Isn't that what people are supposed to do at a party?

- I don't know, you do whatever you want to do. - You retort, and Wanda raises her eyebrows.

- Very funny. You're the only one who says that. - She says as she turns away. - See you later.

Wanda leaves walking through the party, and you see her grab another drink glass on the way.

You think you heard someone yell fight while you were walking through the party, and then the crowd moved, but you didn't go toward the people.

You are very angry, and impatient, wanting to be spending this evening with Wanda, but she doesn't seem interested.

And then you were walking back the way you came, and you ran into the same couple as before, only now they were kissing. You laughed lightly, the boy looked shy. You decided to stay out of their way, and went downstairs, only to run into Wanda again.

- Hey, why don't you let me have this one. - You spoke up as you noticed what must have been one of the many glasses of booze she had taken, and you raised your arm to pick it up, but Wanda was quicker, moving the glass away.

- No! This one is mine! - she grumbled, clearly drunk, trying to push you away. But you managed to take her glass, and she let out an annoyed sigh.

As you put the glass on a small table, she walked away again, and before you could follow, Pepper was at your side.

- Girl, how did you manage to do that? - she asked, looking excited. You frowned.

- What are you talking about?

- You made a freak act like a human being. - She commented with irony, but you weren't even paying attention anymore. Your gaze raced across the room after Wanda, and then someone turned on the radio in the next room and the crowd screamed attracting your attention.

You exclaimed in surprise when you noticed Wanda dancing on a table, without the jacket she was wearing earlier. Pepper ran in the same direction, joining in the shouts of celebration from the crowd around the table.

Walking towards the table you were a mixture of irritation, disbelief and embarrassment. Wanda was completely drunk, dancing sensually to the music, while people whistled and watched intently. She had her eyes closed, not even seeming to notice her surroundings.

And then she made a badly calculated move, and hit her head on the chandelier on the table. You were quick enough to catch her when she fell.

- Okay, that was enough. - You grumbled, helping her to her feet. - Are you okay?

- I'm fine! - she replied, but she could barely walk. You kept her from falling while grabbing the jacket she had thrown to the ground.

- Yeah, you're not fine. - You said. - Let's get out of here.

- I just need to lie down. - She mumbled, letting you hold her around the waist as you led her through the crowd.

- If you lie down, you'll sleep. - You say. - You can't sleep after hitting your head.

Wanda giggled.

- So many words. - She complained, and you thought it best to sit her down somewhere.

You reached the outside, as crowded as the house, but you managed to find a space in the garden for her to sit, and helped her to the bench. Wanda put her hand on her head where she had hit it.

- Hey, I need to talk to you. - Called Monica, walking up to you suddenly.

- I'm kinda busy. - You retorted, looking at Wanda.

- Five minutes, it's important.

You sighed, and took one last look at Wanda before walking away with Monica.

- Look, the deal is off, okay? - she said, and you blinked in confusion. - Pietro never wanted to be with me. He just wanted to have sex with Pepper.

You really didn't have the energy for that right now.

- Monica, where did all this come from now, huh? Weren't you two sneaking around together?

- I thought I was having a good time, but I saw them both at the party. - She explained, and you sighed impatiently.

- Hey, you like this boy don't you? - you asked, and she looked away, nodding. - And he's worth all this stuff you're doing?

- I thought so but...

- Yes or no? - She swallowed hard, and you assumed a serious posture. - Listen, Pepper Potts is not half as good as you, and you never let anyone make you think that you don't deserve something. Okay?

Monica nodded, looking surprised. You turned your face toward Wanda quickly.

- Look, I have to go. - You said as you turned and helped Wanda to her feet.

On the way out you made sure to grab one of the bottles of water you found in the barrels.

You let her rest her arm on your shoulder to keep from falling, while your arm went around her waist. You dragged her across the street, and you ended up climbing a small hill in the mansion area that ended at a playground.

- Why are you doing this? - she grumbled.

- I said, you might have a concussion. - You retorted. Wanda broke free of you and started trying to walk ahead. You kept your attention to catch her in case she fell.

- You don't even care if I don't wake up.

You let out a chuckle, stopping her from falling next.

- That's not true.

- Why not?

- Because then I'd have to date girls who like me. - You respond with humor.

- If you could find one. - She retorts, and you have a smile on your lips when you answer.

- Oh, see. Who needs affection when I get hate?

- I just need to sit for a while. - She says, closing her eyes for a moment, and you help her sit down on one of the swings behind you. She falls off balance a second after you put her there, but you are quick to help her stay seated.

- Jesus. - You sigh as you stop her from falling, and then sit down on the swing beside her while Wanda laughs lightly. - So, why do you let yourself be affected?

- By whom? - she asks.

- Potts.

Wanda looks away, shaking her head.

- I hate her.

You let out a tired sigh.

- Well, you have chosen the perfect revenge. Intravenous tequila. - You joke, making her laugh.

- It's what they say.... - She begins to speak while you are looking away, and with the momentary silence you stare back, startled to find her asleep. You get up hastily, touching her face.

- Hey, Wanda! Wake up! Come on, open your eyes! - You called out, patting her face lightly.

Wanda blinked, opening her eyes, and you let out a sigh of relief. And then you took your hands away from her face and stood up, while she continued to look at you.

- I like your eyes. - She says with a shy smile. And you smile too, but then she throws up on your shoes the next second and the moment is broken. You laugh incredulously, but pat her on the back.

- Time to go home, punk. - You comment softly.

It takes a moment for Wanda to calm down, and you hand her the bottle of water you got. Then you walk to her car, and she hands you the keys.

Just as you are about to arrive at her house many minutes after, she speaks again:

- I should do that. - She comments still sounding drunk.

- Do what?

- That. - She says, pointing to the radio. A rock song was playing.

- Start a band?

- No, install radios in cars. - She retorted with irony, and you laughed lightly. - Starting a band of course. My dad would love it.

You then stop the car in front of her house.

- You don't seem to be the type to ask your father's permission to do things. - You comment as you take out the keys.

Wanda blinks in surprise.

- So now you know me?

- I'm trying.

- People only know that I scare them.

- Yeah, I know the feeling. - You comment with a wry smile. Wanda looks at you with an intensity that makes your stomach turn. - So, your father looks tough.

- No, he just wants me to be someone I'm not. - She says, shaking her head slightly.

- Who?

- Pietro. - She answers with a frown. You let out an understanding sigh.

- No offense, I know everyone likes your brother and all, but he's a pretty shallow guy. - You say and Wanda looks at you in surprise, but then she has a little smile on her face.

- You know... you're not as obnoxious as I thought. - She says, making you laugh slightly. And then she looks at you like that again, and brings your faces together, closing her eyes. You swallow dryly, ignoring your nervousness, and look at the steering wheel.

- I think we should do this another time. - You say, and Wanda looks at you in disbelief, as you twiddle your fingers nervously. She frowns and looks ahead, then opens the car door and gets out.

You sit there for several minutes, hoping that Wanda won't be even more irritated with you than she usually is.

#wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda x you #wandaxyou #wandaxreader #marvel imagines #high school au

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batfamtv · 3 years

Text

(girls like girls) like boys do, nothing new

can you do a jealous carol x reader ? like reader has had long time crush on carol and admits her feelings only to get turned down bc carol has internalized homophobia and doesn’t know how to react. carol gets jealous when reader is moving on with another mcu character of your choice.

carol danvers x reader

warnings: internalized homophobia, failed the reverse bechdel test (women only talk about one (1) woman, a gay), no gays fighting over Y/N

word count: 2565 for the gays; set in avengers: endgame; everyone lives au

read part 1 here

Now, after a couple of years, you got promoted

Working under Nick Fury and caring for the Flerken really got you qualified to work in the field

And you did, with the best of the best: Natasha, the Black Widow, and Clint, Hawkeye

You were there when Loki destroyed New York, when Ultron threatened to destroy the world

Over time, your powers manifested, they have been dormant for the longest time

Speaking of dormant, you hadnt heard from Carol since the night she left

You talked to Nick, asked him if she’s ever stopped by, but she hasnt

“She’s busy saving the world, Y/N” he’d tell you, but that didnt make you feel better

You felt so hurt, by her reaction, her rejection, but you began to look forward

But you think about her everyday, wondering what could have been

Carol had given Nick a pager, “for emergencies only”, she reminded him, but she also gave you one

Carol told you that it’s just to make sure Fury doesnt send out some false alarms, but who was she kidding? Maybe she did want you to hit her up

But after all those years, you hadn’t

She looks at her pager every single day, wondering if the world would miss her if she decides to come see you, to clear things out

And you have thought about ringing her up too, in times when the world is in trouble, and in times when the feeling you have on your chest is sharp that you couldnt breathe

In times when you miss her so much you cry uncontrollably, hand over your mouth to make sure no one hears

To make sure no one hears how much you miss the woman you love

You were with Nick and Maria when it happened

It was chaos in the city, and you, Nick and Maria got out of the car to investigate

The drivers seats of cars are empty, helicopters crashing into buildings

Almost reflexively, your hand flew to your pocket, where the pager lay there, almost waiting for you to press it

“Y/N?” Maria sounded distressed, and when you turned to her, her body was disintegrating, like sand blown away by the wind

Nick was distressed and eyed you, “You have to call her. Call control.”

You didn’t hesitate, pressing the button as you watched Nick do the same to his pager, watching your mentor and friend disappear right in front of your eyes

When your right hand started to disappear, you moved the pager to your left hand, tears threatening to spill

You were going to die, alone, unloved, and not having told Carol how much you miss her

Her name was the last thing on your lips before you disappeared

When carol came back to earth, she didnt know anyone

But everyone was grateful to her, for returning tony

The burning question in her head, the one thing she almost didn’t want to admit

Where is the woman she loves?

Back then, way back when carol was still a child, she was told that there were a lot of things she couldnt do

She couldn’t be strong, couldn’t play baseball--because she was a woman

She couldn’t join the air force, couldn’t be a pilot--because she was a woman

All of these things she couldn’t do, but there has always been one thing she was not allowed to do, not allowed to be

Because she was a woman, she is not allowed to like other women

Maybe if she tried hard enough, she could break the glass ceiling and become an air force captain, but there was one thing that she just was not allowed to do

And that was to acknowledge weird, different feelings for women

That has always been the case, it was drilled into her being, ever since she was a child

Girls can’t like other girls

And you confessing your feelings to her years ago forced her to acknowledge that her feelings for you were not at all platonic, that she didn’t stay with you for 3 days just because you were a good friend to her

Carol had to face the facts that being with you reminded her that she was human, and deep down, like the child that she was a long time ago, she had feelings that she didn’t believe were right

And she understood that her running away was not the right thing to have done, that she, who almost prided herself for being able to face her problems head on, was not ready to face this one problem that she had been forced to hide deep down, for years and years

Carol Danvers had always liked girls, and she liked you

Carrying that aircraft containing tony stark and nebula did not bother her one bit, what bothered her was that she was coming to earth after all these years

Somehow she believes that she is being forced to finally deal with abandoning you after all these years

But in spite of this, carol is feeling excited about this, because finally, after all these years...she had made peace with it

Girls like girls like boys do, nothing new

And all it took for her to realize that was the beeping of the pager

When everything had settled down, carol had been graciously offered a change of clothes by Pepper, who was hysterically thanking her for bringing tony back

The atmosphere was morbid, everyone in silent despair, and she was quietly begging for someone to fill up the spaces of what has happened on earth since she was last there

Finally, surrounded by a group of people calling themselves the “Avengers” (carol raised an eyebrow at this, asking if nick fury was the one who assembled the group, “Yeah, how’d you know?” Rhodes asked, and she shrugged and said “Lucky guess”), she was finally brought to speed

“It’s been 23 days since Thanos came to earth”

Holograms of people Carol believed were part of this team are projected around her

“We’re trying to take a census, and it looks like he did exactly what he said he was gonna do”

Nick Fury’s face appeared on the screen, much to Carol’s shock

Tears were brimming in her eyes, thinking about the distress call from Nick

Because if Nick sent the distress call and is now, as Natasha said, wiped out...does that mean…?

“Thanos wiped out...50% of all the living creatures”

Y/N’s face appeared in front of Carol not long after

With that, Carol exhaled as tears finally fell down her cheeks...she had her suspicions, but hoped--no, begged--for it to be false

Y/N was gone

And carol was too late

Tony stark had been upset...and collapsed, Carol, who was still in shock, was staring at the hologram of Y/N in front of her

“Carol, right?”

Carol turned, regarding Natasha with a nod

They hadn’t had the chance to properly introduce themselves, but Carol didn’t think there was any time

“Carol Danvers,” Steve added with a chuckle, “I think we all know you by name before we even met you”

“Fury really singing me praises, huh?” Carol was almost amused

Natasha smiled sadly, “Not Fury,” and she and Steve turned their heads toward the hologram of Y/N

“Whenever she had the chance, she would talk about “her”, Y/N’s greatest love,” Natasha whispered, remembering how she and Clint always pretended to be annoyed whenever Y/N would go on and on about this really powerful superhero who shined like the sun, and lit a flame in her heart

And as much as Carol wanted to bask in the appreciation, she felt nothing but shame, knowing she abandoned Y/N, and wasn’t able to save her

Glancing back at the hologram, she eyed her once more

Years had been good to Y/N, still beautiful as ever, leaving her breathless, but she wasn’t there anymore

And Carol knew what she had to do

If she couldn’t save Y/N, Carol could avenge her

Rhodes approached her, Natasha, and Steve, “He’s probably gonna be out for the rest of the day”, referring to tony

With a resolute look on her face, she said, “You guys take care of him, and I’ll bring him a Xorrian elixir when I come back”

Confused, Natasha, Steve and Rhodes glanced at each other before Steve asked, “Where are you going?”

“To kill Thanos,” Carol said matter-of-factly

Natasha could almost feel the anger Carol was radiating with, so she hurried to catch up to her, “You know, we usually work as a team here…”

When Natasha finally had the chance, she pulled carol over to the side to talk to her privately

“I know that you usually work on your own, that there are worlds out there who need you, but earth needs you too”

She was convincing Carol to stay, to try and create a better world for the people who survived, but it was getting quite hard for Carol to remain on earth

“I don’t…” Carol shook her head, “I don’t have much left on earth.”

“If you can’t stay, atleast come from time to time,” Natasha begged, “This was your home, wasn’t it? This was Y/N’s too.”

And Natasha was right, Carol thought, and in more ways than one, it was her home. But now it’s empty, and Carol is in mourning and she had never felt so alone

All those years, she thought she could live with what she did knowing that Y/N she was still on Earth, possibly with someone who is not ashamed of who she is, who is not ashamed to accept their own feelings

And Carol was okay with that thought, but now…

She couldn’t stand being on Earth knowing Y/N wasn’t there

It was like coming home to a cold and empty house

But she looked at Natasha, finally with the courage to ask her what she had been thinking all this time, “Were you and Y/N together?”

“No,” Natasha answered, almost teasingly

Carol felt relief, but above all, she felt obligated

To do right by Y/N

So she agreed to visit and report from time to time, “For Y/N. Because I need to do right by Y/N.”

When Carol returned to earth after 5 years, Thanos was there, and so was everybody who had disappeared 5 years ago

In spite of all the chaos, she couldn’t help the voice in her head, asking, “Is Y/N here? Is she safe?”

But you were nowhere to be found, and she had promised to scour the world for you later

Thanos was defeated, but it was in exchange for the lives of Tony and Natasha

With a heavy heart, everyone attended their funerals, all grieving the loss of two of their comrades, friends

At the funeral, Carol stood at the distance, watching behind everybody else

Behind her, Nick was there, and they exchanged solemn nods and opted to wait until the end of the funeral to reconnect

“You came,” was the first thing Fury said, after all those years that they haven’t seen each other

With a small chuckle, she nodded, “Don’t flatter yourself, I didn’t come because you called.”

“I know,” Fury retorted, amused, “You came because she called, right?”

Carol’s mouth opened, lips about to ask a question she had been dying to ask ever since she came back, but no words came out

When everything was chaos and adrenaline and fighting, Carol was not scared

But now that the dust has settled, she was terrified...because now there was no more excuse to avoid what her heart has been begging her to do

Before she could push the question out of her mouth, Fury handed her a piece of paper. “She’s off-duty. Gave her a whole damn month to recuperate from being wiped off the face of the planet.”

And when Carol unfolded the piece of paper, it was just an address

Nodding gratefully to Fury, Carol turned to leave, about to face her biggest obstacle yet

From what she could tell, it was a safehouse

Apparently, Y/N was someone high up the organization that they had warranted her one

Just a little cottage out on the countryside, a palace she had always wanted

Carol laughed whenever she remember you saying, “Maybe one day I could afford a little house in the middle of Kansas, meet Clark Kent and Lois Lane...I don’t know”

And here you were, at a small little house in the countryside

Carol watched you, almost ashamed to just be staring at you while you make yourself some breakfast

As she approached the porch, she wondered how she could take on the mad titan Thanos, but is now shaking as she brought her knuckles to knock on your door, extremities suddenly feeling cold, and knees wobbling to support her weight

She could barely hear your footsteps because of the blood rushing to her head, to her face, heart beating wildly

And when you opened the door, she noted how your eyes widened the tiniest bit, mouth opened in surprise when you realized who was on the other side

“Hi, Y/N,” was the first thing she croaked out

“You…” you smiled at her, “you changed your hair”

With a laugh, she nodded, running a hand through her short hair, before she let her hand down

Slowly counting to three

And engulfed you in a hug

Absolutely-swept-you-off-your-feet hug, your feet leaving the ground as her arms wound tightly across your waist, almost crushing you

And when you heard her inhale into the nape of your neck, it was like a reflex that you threw your arms around her neck, squeezing her just as tight

And Carol wanted to apologize, and confess, and plead for you to give her another chance

She wanted to tell you that she’s sorry for leaving, i was so confused and i was scared to come back and have you look me in the eye and tell me you don’t forgive me for what i did, but i have made peace with who i am and know what i want and what i want is you and your happiness and you and you

And she may have tried to make a letter to help her organize her thoughts

You held her shoulders back, looking at her, really looking at her, after all these years, and you use your thumbs to wipe away the tears running down her face as she shyly laughed at you and held your hands to her cheeks and kept it there for a second, relishing in your heat because you were finally here, after all this time, after 5 long years you are alive

And she brought your hands down and cupped your face and leaned in

And touched her lips to yours, gently, lovingly, finally

You can taste the saltiness of her tears, but also her apologies, and love, and devotion and you kissed her back, smiling

And as you pulled away, you wiped her tears again, before holding her hands, guiding Carol inside, “Let’s eat breakfast.”

And Carol Danvers, for once, was selfish, and did not think of the world needing her help, because she knows that the world would be fine if Carol stayed home for a while

And home is wherever you are

a/n: thank you so much for your support! i rly hope you like this ;__;

#Carol Danvers #carol danvers imagine #carol danvers x reader #Captain Marvel #captain marvel x reader #captain marvel imagine #Brie Larson #brie larson imagine #brie larson x reader #marvel #marvel imagine #marvel x reader #WLW #wlw imagine #lesbian #lesbian imagine #batfamtv

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dreamwritesimagines · 3 years

Text

Twisted 16 - Bloody City [Spencer Reid x Reader]

A.N.: Thank you so much for your wonderful support my loves! Here’s the next chapter, I hope you will like it as well, and please let me know what you think of it! ❤❤ Ily, kisses! ❤❤❤

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Murder, serial killers, violence, manipulation, mentions of sex, drinking, smoking, blood.

Word Count: 3000

Summary: Threats come closer.

The room was so silent that you could swear even your heartbeat was audible. You tried to think through the panic running through your veins, but it was nearly impossible.

He wasn’t supposed to find out about that.

You weren’t a profiler, but you didn’t need to be one to understand how betrayed he felt at the moment. He looked completely frozen, his sharp glare giving you goosebumps.

He had never looked at you like that before, and the anger in his eyes was more than enough to pin you to your spot.

“Spencer,” you managed you say, your voice way too weak, “I can explain.”

Silence.

“I didn’t—“ you stammered, “I didn’t read it. I would never.”

He just kept his gaze on you, raising his brows as if he didn’t believe a word you said and you wetted your lips.

“Where did you find it?”

That managed to draw a reaction from him, at least. He scoffed a dry laugh, shaking his head.

“That’s what you’re asking me right now?” he asked, “It was under the magazines on the coffee table, I thought it was one of mine.”

You cursed under your breath, closing your eyes for a moment. Of course your mother would put it there for you to take a look at it in case you wanted to.

“So?” he said, nodding at the folder lying on the kitchen island, “Do you want to tell me why you have a file on me?”

“It’s not mine.”

The bitter smile on his face was almost amused at your pathetic attempt, and it hit you right at that moment, there was no way you could talk your way out of this. This was what he did for a living, and he could tear your whole list of excuses apart, picking holes in it one by one.

“Try again.”

So people felt exactly like this when he was interrogating them. It was like his whole personality had just changed right in front of your eyes, and you weren’t even sure that you knew this person standing in front of you.

“I mean,” you swallowed thickly, “Okay, it’s technically mine. But I can explain why I have it.”

“You can?”

You pushed your hair behind your ear, your hands restless for some reason.

“The other day,” you started, “After we…. Well, when you were in Ohio, my mom dropped by. She already has a key and well, you’ve met her, she comes and goes as she pleases. I told her not to numerous times, but—“

“That’s not what I asked.”

You nodded, clearing your throat.

“Right, yeah,” you said, wringing your hands, “Um, she has this P.I.”

“You mean your family has a P.I.?” he corrected you, “Philip, you said? It’s not just your mother who uses him, you told me so yourself.”

You cussed at yourself in your head and bit on your lip, “Yeah. Yeah but he—he usually works for my mother. She’s overprotective, especially after my dad she became quite paranoid with the type of people me and Mina date. Anyways, she came here that morning, and she had this file but I didn’t read it,” you shook your head fervently, “I would never.”

He tilted his head, humoring you, “Oh you didn’t read it?”

“No, of course not—“

“Why did you keep it then?”

“I didn’t keep it,” you said, “I had to leave in a hurry so I left my mom here and I swear to you I told her to throw it away. I thought she did, I didn’t see it before just now. I wouldn’t keep it if I knew—“

“Did you know she was going to do it?” he cut you off as if he wasn’t in the mood to listen to your excuses, “Put a P.I. on me?”

You opened your mouth to say no, then the memory of her saying that at the brunch flashed in your mind, making you shut your eyes for a second before looking up at him.

That was enough of an answer for him.

“You knew?” he asked, barely controlling the fury in his voice, “You knew but you didn’t tell me?”

“She mentioned it in passing but I didn’t take her seriously,” you said quickly, “I didn’t think she would actually do it, that’s why I didn’t tell you!”

He let out a humorless laugh and walked to grab his satchel while you stood there, unable to even breathe right as your heart pounded in your ears.

“Where are you going?”

“Out,” he said curtly, “I’ll break your heart if I stay here any longer.”

“Spencer please, we need to talk about it—”

“Talk about it?” he repeated, “Why? So that you can give me more bullshit excuses?”

To that, you honestly had nothing to say.

“I would’ve told you whatever you wanted to know about me,” he said through his teeth, his eyes narrowed, “Because I trust you. That’s the difference between you and me.”

You blinked back the tears, digging your fingernails into your clenched fists.

“Have fun reading that,” he motioned at the file in front of you, then walked out of the apartment, slamming the door behind him. Your hand shot up to wipe at your eyes and tugged at the roots of your hair as you slouched against the kitchen island.

“Fuck.”

***

The next three days were an absolute disaster. You couldn’t focus on anything, you checked your phone every minute to see whether he had texted you or called you, but there was nothing. You had no idea what you could do to explain yourself, or at least convince him to hear you out, but you decided to wait until he wasn’t as angry. Maybe then, he would be more willing to listen to you and you would have gathered your thoughts together.

That was the logical thing to do and you knew that, but it didn’t help with the situation at all. You had already missed him way too much and the guilt was basically eating you alive.

You should’ve been more careful. You should’ve checked everywhere, you should’ve at least called your mother to make sure if she had thrown it away but you had done none of that because of multiple distractions. Spencer had a point, you knew it was possible, you even knew your mother had done the same thing with Kenzie and yet you had told him nothing about that.

Until it blew up on your face.

There was absolutely no way he would ever trust you again, and you had no one to blame but yourself.

Your fingers were itching to text him, but you every time the urge hit you, you tried to do anything else but that. You concentrated on work, you accepted a new client, you did anything and everything that could stop yourself from thinking about him, but all of that was in vain.

Mina and Kenzie had invited you for dinner and you had accepted it just so that you could distract yourself and feel less terrible. Around nine, Lily had insisted you to be the one to read her a bedtime story, and that kid could ask for a freaking castle and you would get her that, so of course you had said yes.

“And they lived happily ever after,” you finished the story and pressed a kiss into her hair as she snuggled closer to you. “Time to sleep, bug.”

“I have a question.”

“Hm?” you asked, “What is it?”

“Will we all live happily ever after?”

“Oh yeah,” you nodded, “Certainly.”

“Here?”

You tilted your head, “Here? What does that mean?”

“I heard mommy talking to grandma on the phone about you moving to—“ she scrunched up her nose, trying to find the right word, “Ven…?”

“Venice?” you asked and shook your head, “No sweetheart, I’m not moving anywhere.”

“It’s just that,” she looked up at you, “In the stories, they go away sometimes right? I thought since you found your prince—“

“You don’t need someone to live happily ever after Lily,” you said, “And in this case, I don’t need to move somewhere else to live happily ever after. Besides, things are complicated with my prince nowadays.”

“So you’re not moving away?”

“I’m not.”

She gave you a toothless smile, “Yay!” she said, “I would miss you.”

“I’d miss you too bug,” you kissed her hair, “So much. But now that we both know I’m staying here, you need to go to sleep, we had a deal.”

“Fine, fine…” she heaved a dramatic sight and you turned off the lamp by her bed, getting up from the bed. “Good night!”

“Sweet dreams, bug,” you closed the door behind you and made your way to the living room where Mina and Kenzie were still sitting by the table, drinking wine.

“Thank you so much,” Kenzie said and you waved a hand in the air as you sat down.

“Of course,” you said, grabbing your wine glass, “Mina, she asked me if I was moving to Venice.”

Mina frowned, “What?”

“Yeah, she heard you talk to mom on the phone,” you muttered, “Is that still going on? I thought we put that behind us, I’m not leaving.”

She heaved a sigh, “You know how mom gets, she’s just worried.”

“Have you talked to Spencer yet?” Kenzie asked and you took a huge sip of your wine, shrugging your shoulders.

“He knows where I am.”

“I take that as a no.” Kenzie said and you scoffed a bitter laugh.

“If he wants to break up with me, he can pick the time.”

Mina’s head shot up, “Y/N…”

“Come on,” you forced yourself to say and downed your wine before tilting your glass towards Kenzie, “You guys know how it goes. Experience talking.”

Kenzie filled your glass, “Listen, I can tell you right now that finding that out was a shock, yes. I felt betrayed, also yes. But after a couple of days, the anger subsided. When we broke up, it was— it was just my anger calling the shots.”

Mina nodded slowly, “Yeah, and then we talked and solved it.”

“Exactly!” Kenzie snapped her fingers, “Besides, after the first argument… I went to my apartment and after I calmed down I had to question whether I wanted to lose Mina over that.”

You shook your head, “It’s different.”

“How?”

“You weren’t there,” you lit a cigarette and exhaled the smoke, “You didn’t see the way how he looked at me after that. Something inside him shifted and I don’t know how to change that, or fix that.”

Mina and Kenzie exchanged glances.

“I don’t think he will ever trust me again,” you managed to say, turning the cigarette between your fingers, “That is if he talks to me again. I think he might just call it quits over the phone to be honest. He doesn’t owe me anything after this point, after what happened.”

“Y/N, I saw you two together even before you started dating,” Mina said, “This is not the end. It’s just some stupid obstacle in the way, that’s it.”

You could feel the tears burning your eyes but you blinked them back.

“I’ve never-” you trailed off, “I’ve never felt this way about anyone, you know? And if I lose this, lose him, I don’t know…” your voice cracked but you cleared your throat and took a sip of your wine again, “I have no idea what to do.”

Kenzie nibbled on her lip,

“You won’t have to, just—“ she started but was cut off when your phone started vibrating on the table. You lowered your glances to check the caller I.D flashing on the screen, then gasped, jumping on your feet.

Spencer.

“Excuse me,” you said and snatched the phone off the table to walk to Mina’s study, your heart slamming against your ribcage. You hoped that it was a good sign that he was calling you, instead of just ending your relationship via text and you closed the door behind you, then answered the phone.

“Hi,” your voice sounded way too squeaky even to your own ears and you shut your eyes for a moment, making a face.

“Hey,” he greeted you and you bit down on your lip, pushing your hair behind your ear as you walked in the study.

“How—um, how are you?”

“I’m good,” he said slowly, “How about you?”

“About the same,” you answered, “I was just thinking about you actually. I wanted to call you, but…”

“But you didn’t?” he asked and you shrugged your shoulders,

“I figured you might need some time away from,” you thought for a moment, trying to smile, “Well, away from me, I guess.”

He fell silent for a moment before he cleared his throat,

“Listen,” he said, “I just called to let you know that we— the team and I, I mean, we’re flying to Illinois in fifteen.”

Your head shot up, “Oh? There’s a new case?”

“Might be related to this one, we will see when we get there,” he said, “I just figured you’d…I don’t know, you’d want to know where I was.”

Even when you were quite possibly in the worst terms, he still wanted to make sure you knew about what was happening and that thought alone was enough to make you smile.

“Yeah absolutely,” you said, “That’s very thoughtful of you. Thanks for letting me know.”

“Sure thing.”

There was a pause before he took a deep breath.

“Anyway, yeah. That’s why I called. I’ll see you later—“

“Spencer,” you interrupted him, “Before you hang up, I want to say that I get why you’re upset, I really do. You have every right to be, but I was hoping…” you bit at your fingernail, “Maybe we can talk after you come back? Would that be possible?”

“Yeah,” he said after a beat, “Sure, that sounds good.”

“Yeah?” you let out a relieved breath, “Okay, great. Be careful out there, please?”

You could almost hear his small smile, “You too,” he said and hung up, making you let out a squeal and you sat down on the couch, pressing a hand over your chest.

You didn’t know it back then, but the next time you would see Spencer, it would be under very, very different circumstances.

And it definitely would not look like what you hoped it would.

***

Even though Mina and Kenzie insisted you to stay over for the night, you told them you had an important appointment the next morning. It wasn’t a lie either, you had been handling Vincent’s wedding’s possible venues since last week and finally you had narrowed it down to three, so you would be visiting those venues with him and his husband.

But that whole morning started very strange.

For starters, you hadn’t even heard your alarm go off, which was unusual, because that had never happened to you before. By the time you woke up, you had a terrible headache as if someone had hit your head with a baseball bat but you hadn’t even drunk that much last night. It felt way too difficult to even open your eyes, and your limbs felt like they were made of jelly as you forced yourself to sit up in the bed.

Where was your phone?

The wind coming from the open window moved the curtain and you frowned, trying to remember when you had opened the window before a shudder ran down your spine, the hairs on the back of your neck rising.

Spencer would’ve had some scientific explanation for it you were sure, but for you, it went deeper than that. It was your instincts, warning you that something was wrong.

Something in here didn’t feel right.

And every single cell in your body made sure you knew that.

Trying to make as little noise as you could, you swung your legs over the edge of the bed, blinking to get rid of the blurriness in your sight and looked around in the room for any potential weapons, then grabbed the nail file on the vanity before you opened the door. You peeked around the hall, but as soon as your gaze fell on the front door, you felt the goosebumps rising on your arms.

The front door wasn’t closed properly, and you were sure that you had closed it last night.

Your heart started pounding in your head but you stepped out of your room, still holding the nail file tightly just in case there was a sudden movement. You took another step, trying to fix your breathing but you happened to inhale deeply for a second, and that’s when you took the scent.

You smelt it before you could even see it, the bile climbing up your throat almost automatically.

Metallic and sweet.

Blood and jasmines.

You slowly lowered your glances to the floor connecting the hall to the living room to follow the small flowers of jasmines soaked in the red river of blood, leading behind the kitchen island. There were sirens going off in your head, screaming at you to run away but you took a deep breath, your whole body shaking as you stepped around the kitchen island, the warm blood soaking your feet before your eyes found the body lying completely still on the floor.

The nail file slipped from your closed fist as you stared at your ex-boyfriend Anthony, his eyes wide open and fixed on the ceiling, his hair and clothes drenched in his own blood.

The shock only lasted for one second.

Then a scream ripped itself from your throat.

Chapter 17

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid imagines #spencer reid x you #criminal minds #spencer x reader #spencer x you #spencer imagine #spencer imagines #spencer #reid #reid imagine #reid x you #dr spencer reid #reid x reader #criminal minds imagine #twisted

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thisissirius · 3 years

Note

fight me, siri

a place for us [ao3 link] eddie/buck, mid-episode for rage

Eddie stares at the phone.

There’s a cop standing just behind his left shoulder, he’s grateful it’s not Athena, looming and reminding Eddie he doesn’t have long. He should call his abuela, in case he can’t get out in time to pick up Chris. He could call call Lena, ask her to bail him out. He can’t call Buck.

The fucking lawsuit.

The anger settles low in his stomach, threatening to boil over. What right does Buck have to drag their personal shit into the open? To let Mackey at it like he deserves to tear apart their decisions and use it against them?

Eddie shouldn’t call Buck, it’ll only lead to a fight.

Picking up the handset, he dials one of the only numbers he knows by heart and touches his forehead to cold stone, hoping his call is answered.

“Hello?”

Eddie swallows. “It’s me.”

“Eddie?” The sound of a couch rustling, the familiar slow intake of breath. “Where are you?”

It’s a bad idea, but Eddie can’t stop himself blurting out, “i need you to bail me out of jail.”

Silence.

“I know I shouldn’t call—”

“I’ll be there in ten.”

The dial tone rings in Eddie’s ear.

When Eddie gets outside of the station, there’s a familiar truck in the parking lot.

Part of him wants to ignore it, to satisfy the rage curling low and angry in his belly and find something else to punch. Part of him wants to wrench open the door of the truck and—

Except.

Opening the door, Eddie climbs inside and tries not to make eye contact. “Thanks for coming.”

“Sure,” Buck says. He sounds angry, and when Eddie risks a glance, his jaw is tight. He’s furious, which just makes Eddie angry. What right does he have to be mad at Eddie? It’s his fault Eddie even— “Where do you wanna go?”

The anger stagnates and Eddie buckles in, stares back at the station. There’s a reason he’s called Buck, made the choice to reach out. “Chris is at a sleepover.”

Buck nods, fingers tightening on the wheel.

“Can we,” Eddie starts, fights the urge to snap something angry, fights to keep his tone calm. “Can we go to yours?”

Head snapping right, Buck raises an eyebrow. “Are you serious right now?”

Eddie doesn’t bother answering, lets Buck make up his mind. He fiddles with the phone in his pocket, trying not to check whether Chris has called. He wants Chris to have fun, but there’s always an undercurrent of worry left behind. The truck is tense, silence dragging out into something dangerous. Eddie wants to break it, to snap at Buck for everything he’s doing, for making everything wrong when Eddie’s already struggling to keep his shit in line.

The truck comes to a stop and Eddie’s startled to see they’re at Buck’s apartment. He doesn’t know what to say.

“Get your ass out the truck or I’m locking you in,” Buck says, slamming the door.

Eddie bites back his own retort—Buck’s bailed him out and he doesn’t know how he’s gonna pay Buck back for it—and clambers out of the truck. Buck’s at the door to his apartment block, holding the door open, his back to Eddie. It’s a dismissal that has Eddie bristling, and he storms after Buck into the building.

“Why’d you bring me here?” Eddie asks, when he shuts the door behind them. Buck’s angrily wrenching beers from the fridge and Eddie feels ungrounded, like he’s the only one with a right to be angry and can’t understand why Buck’s—

“You asked me to bring you here.” Buck slams a bottle on the counter. “Just like you asked me to bail you out of jail, Eddie, what the fuck!”

The anger is back, bubbling up, and Eddie snaps, “You don’t get to judge me.”

“My money’s the reason you’re standing here right now.” It’s a warning tone that Eddie barrels right over.

“If I knew you’d hold it against me, I’d have called somebody else.”

“Who?”

Eddie snaps his mouth shut.

“This is gonna fuck up my case,” Buck says, holding up a hand when Eddie starts to retort. “Shut up, Eddie. This is gonna fuck up my case and I came anyway.”

Eddie snorts. “So what, I should be thankful? You shouldn’t even have been suing us—“

“I want my job back,” Buck says. It’s quiet, exhausted, and it stifles some of the anger. Eddie looks at him, really looks; Buck’s deflated, tired, drawn. How is it that just a few weeks ago, Buck and Chris were in a tsunami and now they’re here, everything breaking and running away from Eddie faster than he can make it stop? “I just want to come back and Bobby won’t let me.”

“Buck,” Eddie says.

Buck clenches his hands into fists, rests them on the counter. “What excuse do you have?”

“It’s not an excuse,” Eddie snaps, and then shakes it off, turns around and stalks towards the couch. He needs to stop, to get control of himself. Fuck. He punched someone.

“Eddie,” Buck says, and there’s something about his tone that forces Eddie to look. “You were booked for assault.”

Eddie sits on the couch, rubs at his face. “He was being a dick about Chris.”

The story tumbles from him, because he needs someone to hear, to understand.

There’s a ripple of fury on Buck’s face. “What the fuck is wrong with him?”

“I punched him,” Eddie says with a shrug. Then, thinks about it. “Fuck, I punched him.”

Buck sits on the coffee table, to the left of Eddie. His hands between his legs, toying with a frayed thread on his sweatpants. “What’s going on with you?”

Eddie doesn’t answer. How does he even begin trying to put shit into words? “Nothing.”

“Eddie.” Buck looks up, his eyes wide, and fuck, Eddie hates how unmoored he feels around Buck sometimes. “I never wanted this.”

“Yeah,” Eddie scoffs, leaning back against the couch. “Well now you have it.”

Silence stretches between them again and Eddie fidgets, pulls his phone from his pocket. The anger coasts and he knows if he tugs at it, he could use it to hurt Buck, to tear him apart like Eddie wants to.

Except.

Eddie doesn’t want to. He’s tired, too. He just wants things to make sense, to be right. “He misses you.”

Buck winces, drops his head. “I didn’t mean for things between us to go wrong.”

“What did you think would happen?”

Shrugging, Buck’s jaw tightens again and he stares off towards the kitchen. “Bobby’s the reason I can’t come back.”

Eddie frowns. “What?”

“You said chain of command,” Buck says, sounding hoarse, and he looks back. “Bobby told me I couldn’t come back. That the department said it was okay, but he didn’t think I was ready.”

Something stirs in the back of Eddie’s head. “Why?”

Buck shrugs again.

“Hey,” Eddie says, feeling some of the anger bleed into frustration on Buck’s behalf. “Did he say why?”

“I don’t know,” Buck says, and Eddie hears everything he’s not been saying. The confusion, the hurt, and he’s angry at himself all over again. He’s been so busy and wrapped up in his own shit, with Chris, that he’s never thought to think about Buck. Buck, who’s lost his job, his family, and his confidence.

Sliding forward, Eddie reaches out, expecting a flinch, and when he doesn’t get one, feels relieved for reasons he can’t explain. “I’m sorry.”

Letting out a shaky breath, Buck stares at him.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie says, sounding wrecked. “I was so concerned with being mad, I didn’t even think.”

“It’s okay.”

“No,” Eddie says, squeezing Buck’s knee. “It’s not. You gotta stop letting us off the hook when we hurt you, man.”

Buck's look is wry. “I’ll let you off the hook for that if you tell me what the fuck you were doing punching someone.”

It’s so easy to feel the low burn of anger, of failure. Eddie’s been riding it this whole time, trying to exist in a world threatening to drown him.

“Eddie,” Buck says, reaching out and touching Eddie’s hand. He’s hesitant, apprehensive, so Eddie turns his hand palm up, lets Buck tangle their fingers together.

Staring at their linked fingers, Eddie swallows hard. “Shannon wanted a divorce.”

The words fall between them.

“Shit,” Buck mutters, squeezing Eddie’s hand. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m so angry all the time,” Eddie says. He hates being this vulnerable, this weak, but it’s a lot and he can’t stop the words tumbling out now he’s started. Buck’s holding him tight, fingers squeezing hard enough Eddie imagines his fingers breaking. Imagines himself crumbling beneath Buck’s touch and he gasps out the rest, eyes wet. “I let her back in, let her see Chris and I knew, I knew it wouldn’t be enough, you know? It wasn’t enough, it wasn’t, she died, Buck, but she was gonna divorce me.”

Buck’s silent.

“I wasn’t enough,” Eddie says eventually. “I just wanted to be enough. So that Chris could be happy.”

A hand touches his face, fingers gentle, and he looks up, meets Buck’s eyes. “Chris is mourning his mom,” he says quietly. “He’s suffered a tsunami, he’s mourning his mom, but he’s happy, Eddie. Or at least he will be.”

“How do you know?” Eddie whispers, afraid that if he talks any louder, the words will prove he’s as weak as he feels.

“Because of you,” Buck says. His voice is certain, hard in a way that forces Eddie to pay attention. “You’re a good dad, Eddie. Sure, you’ve just been arrested,” Eddie huffs a reluctant laugh, revels in the smile on Buck’s face, “but you’re a good dad.”

“Yeah,” Eddie says, shaking his head.

“Hey.” Buck squeezes his hand, the fingers against Eddie’s face sliding around to his neck, thumb to Eddie’s jaw. “You’re the best thing in that kid’s life.” A pause. “In mine.”

Eddie freezes.

“After Chris,” Buck says quickly, cheeks pink. “You’re my best friend, Eddie. Whatever that means.”

“A lot,” Eddie says, truthfully. “I haven’t had a best friend before,” he continues. “Not sure if I know how to be. Sometimes I think I do, then others—”

“Yeah.” Buck sounds like he understands.

Sometimes Eddie wants to kiss Buck. To drag him in, hold him close and never let him go. The words won’t leave Eddie’s mouth, stuck somewhere down his throat, threatening to choke him.

Buck shifts again, until he’s sitting opposite Eddie. He takes a breath, touches their foreheads together. “I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry too,” Eddie admits.

Buck’s eyes are really fucking blue. He’s beautiful in ways Eddie’s never let himself see.

“Shannon died,” Eddie says eventually. “I don’t think I’m over it.”

“I know.”

“I want to be.”

Buck stares at him, expectation heavy between them.

“I want to kiss you.” The words are quiet. Eddie takes a breath, meets Buck’s eyes. “Sometime. When we’re both ready.”

“Okay,” Buck says.

Eddie raises an eyebrow. “Okay?”

“Yeah.” Buck’s face breaks into a smile. It’s small, tentative, but bright. Eddie wants to drag more out of him, ones that light up his whole face.

There’s another pause and Eddie breaks first, tugs him in. Wrapping his arms around Buck, Eddie lets out a soft sigh. “Thanks, Buck.”

Buck’s arms come up to Eddie’s back, his nose against Eddie’s neck. “For what?”

Eddie huffs. “Bailing me out? Talking some sense into me.”

“What are best friends for?”

Pulling back, Eddie touches Buck’s face, thumb against Buck’s bottom lip. “Hopefully more than that.”

Buck’s smile is wide, a familiar look on his face. “Eventually. If you earn it.”

Eddie’s startled into a laugh and he drops his chin to his chest, grinning.

“Hey,” Buck says, squeezing Eddie’s arm. Eddie lifts his head and raises his eyebrows. “Either way, I love you.”

“Yeah,” Eddie says. Then, with certainty, says, “I love you too.”

#911 fic #buddie fic #buddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley #fic by me #alicia!!!#my darling #have a fic #buttercupbuck

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banditthewriter · 3 years

Text

Intensity - Loki

Here we have a Loki fic. That came out of nowhere, I’ve only ever written drabbles for him. It’s not long but hopefully it’s not bad?

Enjoy!

*gif not mine*

*****

Unlike most people, the mutant gene didn’t show up when you were a kid. You could be grateful for that at least. Because of that little grace, your childhood had been completely normal. No worries, no fears, nothing out of the ordinary.

Then you started to notice changes.

People seemed calm around you for the most part. If your emotions were out of control, you realized that others would be that way too. It took a while to understand that it was more than just the environment, more than just coincidence.

It took a disaster.

It was a fight with your dad when you were a teen. You didn’t even remember what it was about, what caused the issue, but you were angry enough that you were told to go to your room. Your mom had come in to sit with you for a while to try to calm you down.

The next thing you know, she went into the living room and tried to attach your dad with a butcher knife. He was okay but he did have to get sixteen stitches. And your mom was traumatized, not understanding why she tried to kill the man she loved.

That’s what had them put it all together. The little things they’d noticed but had brushed off had come out in a big way.

You could influence other people’s emotions. Oddly enough, anger was easier than the nicer emotions, but you’d had a pretty laid back life so you didn’t feel anger a lot.

Maybe that’s why it was so potent when you did feel it.

Emotion manipulation could be dangerous without proper training so in college, after a few years of trying to pretend you were normal, you left to find someone to train you. Therapists, doctors, military people all tried their hand to get you trained. All of them had the same thing to say.

You were undisciplined at best. At worst? You’d never be able to be completely in control.

Over the years it became harder and harder to keep in contact with people, including your family. It wasn’t like you could have an actual relationship that way. You could never be sure if you were influencing someone’s emotions, even when you tried to get control of your powers.

The military had a bracelet that worked for other mental powers. It didn’t work flawlessly, but it helped. It dampened your emotional field so that it took touch to influence someone for the most part. That and a steady regime of keeping calm, you got a better grasp on it.

Better didn’t mean perfect though. You still sometimes affected people when you didn’t mean to. You still hated it when you did it.

One of the things you did learn while working with various therapists was that there was more to your power than just emotion manipulation. To a lesser degree, you could read emotions on people. It didn’t work as well when you had the bracelet on, dampened that power as well, but sometimes...sometimes you could catch bits and pieces off of the people closest to you.

While you traveled from military base to military base to try to figure out a way to work on your powers, you didn’t expect to get a call from the Avengers.

Well. It was less of a call and more of Iron Man dropping down in front of you and one of the generals so that he could offer you a place to stay at his tower.

“How’d you hear about me?”

Although you couldn’t see his eyes, you knew that Iron Man—Tony Stark, it was Tony Stark in front of you—was looking at you.

“Fury. He has a way of getting information on lost souls that need a little help. What do you say? Wanna be a part time Avenger? Use your mojo to make some people really docile so that we don’t have to keep wrecking New York City every time some supervillain decides to stop by?”

You shifted a bit and looked at the general beside you. He just shrugged.

You weren’t a prisoner of the military. It had been very evident that you were there voluntarily. It was up to you.

“I’m working on a better dampener for mental powers. Maybe I can make one that’s specific to your power and you won’t have to worry about it anymore.”

And just like that, you didn’t need to hear anything else.

------

The tower is bigger than you thought it would be. Which is a good thing. Especially when you realized it’s not just the Avengers that frequent the tower but other members of Shield.

“This area is all yours,” Mr Stark says as he shows you to your room. Suite. Apartment. “The walls are made from the same dampening material as your bracelet so it’ll contain your powers.”

“My powers aren’t that powerful,” you said softly as you touched the bracelet in question. “Thank you Mr Stark. I...I want to help people but I am scared of what my powers might do. I want to protect people from me.”

He turned to look at you and dropped some of that rich man bravado he’d been sporting since he escorted you onto his private jet.

“You don’t have to be scared of yourself here. I promise.”

That’s not the last time you see him either. He explains that you should call him Tony and although it’s weird at first, you do.

“Tony, aren’t you scared I’ll influence you?”

He looked up from where he was typing on a tablet, his feet up on the table in your kitchenette.

“Pretty sure you do,” he said casually as he looked back down at the tablet. “It’s only ever small things though. Calm sometimes, tired sometimes. Hungry that one, that’s why I ordered pizza.”

You felt your heart start to beat fast at the thought of you accidentally influencing him, but he must have caught on to that.

“Anxiety and I are old friends,” he explained as he put the tablet down and crossed over to you. “I’m not worried about it. Your influence doesn’t last if I’m not around you so once I leave, I’m back to myself. But honestly? Your influences are a lot simpler than some of the things I’ve felt.”

You thought about everything you knew about Iron Man and the Avengers and decided, yeah, he was probably right. Anything you could make him feel would be pretty tame compared to flying a nuclear warhead into a wormhole without knowing if you were coming back.

------

The first time you meet Natasha Romanoff, you spill orange juice on your shirt. She just smirked and grabbed a napkin to hold out to you.

It was the first time you’d let yourself out of your rooms. The new bracelet was supposed to be more effective, but Tony said he wouldn’t know if he was on the right track until you let yourself be around people.

People meaning Shield agents. You didn’t expect to be face to face with Black Widow.

Her grin wavered for a second before it came back even brighter.

“You have better control than I thought you’d have,” she admitted as she leaned against a nearby table. “Stark said this new bracelet would still let you influence, but you stopped it pretty quick.”

“I didn’t even realize what I was doing,” you confided as you gripped your half full glass of orange juice. “I just want to hold it all in when I’m around people.”

Natasha tapped her fingers on the table before she crossed over towards the door.

“It’s not good to hold it in. You might end up like a grenade without a pin.”

With that helpful piece of advice, she left.

Later, in Tony’s lab rather than your room, you told him what she said. He nodded as he made a few adjustments.

“She’s got the right idea at least. You stretch your wings with it every now and then, that’s one thing. You don’t work it at all and the muscle will atrophy. Who knows what a gift like yours can do if it degrades and you don’t have control over it?”

It took a while to come up with a plan. A few Shield agents, volunteers specifically, would work with you and let you influence them. Under supervision in case you lost control.

It was a step. You just wish you knew if it was in the right direction or not.

------

“This is Thor and that’s his...brother Loki. Don’t worry, he’s on his best behavior these days.”

You nearly swallowed your spit when you turned around and sure enough, you were faced with Tony, Thor, and Loki. This was somehow your life but you hadn’t really figured it out yet. You were a few feet away from literal Gods.

Thankfully Tony couldn’t read your thoughts because he’d think you lumped him in with that group.

“Uh, hi,” you said as you introduced yourself.

“Ah, another Avenger? Welcome.”

You smiled at Thor and shook your head, but Tony moved over and draped his arm over your shoulder.

“Definitely an Avenger, just with training wheels. Probationary,” he explained at Thor’s uncertain look. “We’re working on the kinks.”

You wanted to elbow Tony to get him off of you, especially as you could feel your heart start to race in your chest. This was nerves, anxiety building into a spike in your chest. Only Tony didn’t seem to react. He usually would at least look at you if he felt you influencing him.

And he didn’t seem to feel anxious or nervous in the least. Neither did Thor who was talking to Tony about...something about a bridge, you weren’t sure.

But Loki. You hadn’t paid much attention to him after the initial greeting, but you met his gaze now. He was staring straight at you, an intrigued look on his face as he watched you.

Tony and Thor might not have noticed your influence, but it seems Loki had. Great.

“I should get back to the lab,” you said as you stepped out from under Tony’s arm. “It was nice to meet you both. Bye.”

You heard Thor’s farewell at your back, but you could still feel Loki’s gaze on your as you turned the corner.

------

Any other time that you ran into Thor in the tower, he always put you at ease. Tony had explained your powers and how you were coming to grips with them. Thor asked questions about it, always careful to never put you on edge, but he didn’t seem concerned for himself.

“It would be hard for a human such as yourself to influence an Asgardian mind,” he said with a smile when you asked him about it.

That didn’t explain Loki then. Besides your first meeting, every time you were around the dark haired God you’d turned into a nervous, babbling mess. The look on his face was always intrigued, but it wasn’t cruel. It seemed almost clinical.

Although you’d heard a lot about that particular God’s abilities. Maybe since he had some mind control abilities himself, he could feel it in you.

And didn’t that just put you on edge. You weren’t sure how you felt about having something in common with Loki, God of mischief.

Although you weren’t entirely sure that was the only reason you felt nervous around Loki. Most people talked about how attractive the God of thunder is, with reason, but there was just something about the dark haired God that caught your attention.

So of course you would find yourself alone with the God in question while you waited for Tony. The Avengers were off Avenging and you didn’t like to be holed up while you waited for them.

You weren’t sure why you expected Loki to be off with them, but he wasn’t. He was in a chair in the room, a book on his lap that he flicked through lazily. When you walked in, his eyes lifted up and met yours.

There was a challenge in his gaze. Normally you’d make an excuse and turn to leave. He was challenging you to see if you’d do it now that there weren’t other people around.

Instead you crossed over and went to the kitchen area.

“Is it because of my past misdeeds? Is that why you’re nervous around me?”

You hadn’t heard him speak before right then, but his voice fit him. You tapped your fingers against the fridge door that you had pulled open even though you weren’t hungry.

“I’ve heard a few stories about you, sure. But you’re a God. It’s...intimidating.”

You heard the chair creak. When you looked over your shoulder, he had stood up and crossed a few feet to be closer.

“Regardless of my past, you have nothing to fear from me.”

Slowly you shut the fridge door and turn to face him completely. The look on his face made you believe him. But it was more than that. You could feel something from him, an emotion buried in the haze from your bracelet.

Honesty.

“Okay,” you whispered as you met his eyes. “I’ll...keep that in mind.”

------

The lower library wasn’t exactly your favorite, but it was usually empty. You walked through the first few aisles and froze when you saw that you weren’t alone.

“You come here to be alone,” Loki guessed as he looked around the room. “It’s one of the few places that’s technically public but usually void of people.”

You wrapped your arms around yourself and nodded.

“I’m supposed to be in public for a few hours each day but sometimes it gets to be a bit too much. So I come here.”

He nodded as if he understood that. Then he turned to face you head on.

“How powerful are you?”

You almost laughed at that, but held it in.

“I’m not powerful, I’m untrained. Dangerous,” you added as you looked away from him.

One of the Shield agents had to be sedated when you’d made her feel too many things at once on accident. You weren’t sure how she was doing.

Tony was still calibrating the new bracelet, but you wore it anyways. You just hoped...hoped it was enough.

“I can help you. I’m skilled with mind control of stronger beings than humans.”

You fingered the bracelet you wore and thought about the Shield agent, your parents, all the people you’d influenced over the years that had bad results.

“I’ll think about it,” you said softly. Then you sighed. “I should go back to the lab. Tony will be looking for me.”

“Ah, yes, we wouldn’t want that, would we?”

You smiled and looked away. You weren’t sure you could handle for Loki to pick up on how charmed you were by him just then.

You really needed to get better at keeping your feelings a secret.

------

The lab was in disarray. You stumbled from where you’d fallen, the debris mostly away from you.

Even in his panic, Tony hadn’t hurt you. He’d flung himself as far away as he could, kept his robots from hurting you, but he’d nearly destroyed his lab in the process.

“Tony?”

It was quiet for a moment but then you heard a rasping breath. You climbed over a fallen stool and went to your knees next to where he was crumpled on the floor.

“Tony, are you...what can I do?”

He let out a gasp, his eyes on your face for a moment before they slammed shut tight.

“JARVIS, get Pepper,” you called out, unsure of what else to do.

The mechanical voice said it would be a moment and then said that Miss Potts was on her way down. You slumped on the floor next to Tony, careful not to touch him.

Your anxiety about this test, about how long it had been since there had been any progress, had bled over to Tony. Only it was heightened somehow, the anxiety and worry causing a full blown flashback for him. You’d caught glimpses of it, almost-images of the wormhole and falling through the air.

It’s why you asked for Pepper. He hadn’t been able to talk to her before...before.

When she came in, she gave you an understanding look before she went to his side. Since he was being cared for, you got up and stumbled away from them. Your bracelet was still on the receiver so you grabbed it and hooked it on, grateful for the dullness you felt afterwards.

Then you left the lab. All you wanted to do was go to your rooms, to bury yourself under your blankets and wish it all away, but instead you headed in a different direction.

The room that Loki had been given was in the same hall as Thor, but you thought Thor was away on a mission with Steve and Sam. Loki’s door was shut, but when you raised your hand to knock, it came open.

“I need help.”

Loki came from across the room in a hurry, probably thinking you meant you were being chased. When he was sure the issue was less immediate, he nodded and met your eyes.

What he saw there made him let out a breath. He reached for you, slow so that you wouldn’t pull away. He unhooked the bracelet and set it to the side.

“This might be a bit uncomfortable,” he said softly as he raised his hands to your forehead.

In an instant you were no longer in the tower, no longer in New York. You were in your childhood bedroom, your mom helping you make your bed while your dad laughs at the two of you. It was such a distant memory, something you had forgotten.

As more and more of those happy memories come to the surface, you sense something from Loki. A bitter tang on your tongue.

He had hoped that your childhood would have been like his. He had seen you and imagined that you’d been set apart as well. To see a loving, happy childhood had almost been a disappointment for him.

That faded away as the next memory appeared. He watched from your own eyes as your mother, in a rage not of her own, tried to kill your father. He sees your best friend yelling that she can’t trust you, teachers telling you that you can’t come to class, job and job firing you after only days.

He sees relationship after relationship burn hot and bright at first and then the horror sets in, the worry that they didn’t want you like you wanted them, the anger from them, the apathy. You felt it all in spirals, in such quick succession that embarrassment started to well up inside you.

“Shh, it’s alright,” he promised as he continued to dig inside your memories. “You’re not there. They don’t matter.”

There’s something like a tug and then suddenly, like a dam breaking, you're overwhelmed with emotions. They seem to come from every direction like the room is crowded.

You open your mouth to say his name, to ask him for help, but instead there’s nothing but darkness as you give in to the pain.

------

The medical wing is new to you. When you sit up, there’s a hand on your shoulder to help you ease up the rest of the way.

“It’s been two days,” Natasha says in a tone you can’t quite read. “Thought we were going to have to take turns kissing you, Snow White.”

“Thanks for…not doing that,” you said as you reached up to rub at your forehead.

Loki. You had been in his room, he was in your mind. He was trying to help you, going through your memories. There had been...oh the emotions you’d felt before you’d passed out.

“Where’s Loki?”

Natasha doesn’t say anything, just reached out to grab a cup of water from next to your bed. As she held it out to you, you pushed it away.

“Natasha, where’s Loki? Tell me.”

She sighed and put the cup down.

“Steve and Thor had him put into a holding cell for attacking you.”

You were shaking your head before she even finished.

“He didn’t though!”

A tablet was on the table. After a brief hesitation she grabbed it and navigated through a few things.

“Watch this and tell me he didn’t attack you.”

You watched the recording from his room. The two of you were in front of each other, his hands on your head. There didn’t seem to be anything at first but then you saw what looked like a surge of magic go from his hands to your head.

You shook your head as you rewound it and watched the same spot.

“I need to see him,” you said when you finally looked up at her. “Now, Natasha.”

Although she obviously didn’t want to let you, she gave you a nod. You were already in sweats for comfort while you were unconscious, so you just slid on some too big slippers and let her lead the way to the holding cells.

Steve immediately raises his hands once you enter the hallway.

“What the hell Romanoff, I said–”

“Yeah, when’s the last time I listened to you,” Natasha snarked with a smirk. Then she gestured at you. “She wants to talk to him.”

Steve was just about to say no, but Thor came from down the hall with a frown.

“I think she should. I know what we saw, but we don’t understand it. It’s possible the only one that can understand it is her. Besides,” he added with a sly look in your direction, “Loki is on his best behavior when she’s around.”

You didn’t know how to take that, but thankfully it seemed to persuade Steve. He told you he’d buzz you into the cell once you were there. They had a camera so they’d see and hear everything and, if you needed it, could come and save you.

You really didn’t think you’d need it.

In the cell, Loki seemed different. He ignored you when you came in, just threw a ball against the wall and caught it over and over again.

You wished you could use your powers to read Asgardians as well as humans, but...wait.

There was nothing. From Natasha, from Steve, from the nurse who had released you. Usually you felt something, a low hum of their emotions, but there was nothing.

“The force of it was too much for you, but it’ll come back.” He caught the ball and let it rest beside him on the bench. “You felt too many emotions at once. Your mind was adapting to having mine in there when it happened and it overloaded.”

You nodded and sat down beside him, a few feet away just so that Steve wouldn’t bust in. You really didn’t need observers with this, but you knew you didn’t have a choice.

“It felt so weird. It was like I could feel the emotions of everyone in the tower at once.”

Loki looked over at you in surprise.

“In the tower? That was everyone in the city at once.” At your surprised look, he offered a smile. “I knew you were powerful when we first met, I just didn’t realize how powerful.”

You sighed and leaned back against the wall.

“Holy shit,” you breathed with another laugh. “No wonder I’ve been asleep for two days.”

And here you thought you couldn’t really surprise the God of mischief more than you already had.

“Two days? So that’s...why you haven’t come to set the record straight.”

Oh. Had he thought that you believed the story that he’d attacked you? Or did he just think that you were letting him suffer?

“Just woke up. Saw the video, heard you were down here, came to rescue you.”

He laughed at that, a sound that both surprised and pleased you.

“How do you feel?”

You thought about it. The emptiness in your head was blissful. So was the fact that you didn’t need to worry about making people feel your emotions.

“I hope it never comes back.”

His hand closed around yours and, with a gentle tug, he pulled you a little closer to him.

“You shouldn’t hope for that. The gifts you have don’t have to be a burden. You can learn to control them, learn to use them.” He smiled at you, his eyes locked on yours. “I said I knew you were powerful and I meant it. I could feel it in you.”

You rubbed a hand over your wrist where your bracelet usually sat.

“Maybe I should be the one in the holding cell.”

Loki’s face became more serious as he looked you over.

“It could happen one day.”

The memory of Tony curled up on his side after your influence made you think about what had happened in Loki’s room. Your mind had reached the entirety of the city. If you could push your influence that far…

“I have to…”

You didn’t bother saying more, just tore from the room in a rush. Steve was outside and he nodded when he met your eyes.

“We saw. We believe you. We’ll let him out.”

You nodded because that was good, but that wasn’t the only thing on your mind.

You needed to talk to Tony.

------

“You sure you don’t feel anything?” At your baleful look, Tony shrugged and looked back at the scan. “Your brain is unusually active.”

“I’ll try not to be offended,” you said with a laugh.

Tony crossed over to where you sat. He looked good for a man who just a few days ago had been basically curled up under his table in a panic. And he had forgiven you for that.

“Make me feel something. Something small, please,” he added with a grin.

You drummed your fingers on the table for a moment before you nodded. Then you focused on Tony and a new feeling.

“God I could eat a cheeseburger,” he commented as his hand went to his stomach. “Wait. Was that it? Was that you?”

You started to smile but then you focused on him some more. There was surprise, under the surface, but you had to actually look for it. It didn’t come out of nowhere.

“I have control?”

Tony clapped his hands together. Then he reached out for your bracelet and tossed it into the trash can.

“It was a prototype anyways. We’ll get one together just in case, but I think we can say you’re off the bench for now.”

You laughed and tossed your arms around his neck.

“Thank you Tony.”

“Yeah, yeah, now let’s get something to eat. Seriously, I’m starving.”

------

A few days after his release, you found Loki in the library. He looked up as you entered as if he knew it was you.

Maybe he did.

“Thank you. Because of what you did, I have control now.”

“I know,” he said with a smile. “Thor said you’ll be going on a mission with them soon to celebrate.”

Yeah, you’d heard that as well. It was exciting, if a little daunting.

“It might do you some good to continue to train with me, if you wish. To perfect your talents.”

You smiled. Then you moved over to sit beside him. Now that you had control, you let your mind open to try to read him.

Silence. You frowned and tried again.

“Because of my powers, I can protect myself,” he said with a tap of his fingers to his temple, a grin on his lips. “I do appreciate the effort though.”

You laughed and looked down at your hands. Nervousness settled over you.

“I just thought if I could read your emotions, I could know if…”

If he was interested in you. If your feelings had influenced him at all.

“You could never influence me, I promise.”

You opened your mouth to ask how he knew that’s what you were thinking, but then you remembered. He’d been in your head. Besides seeing just how horrifically all of your past relationships had ended, he would have felt how you felt about him.

He was putting you at ease. Your nerves started to rise and either he could tell, or he just knew you that well already.

“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

You met his eyes and smiled, a little breathless as you thought about the possibilities.

“Not uncomfortable. Just...nervous.”

He leaned in towards you, his grin nearly blinding until his lips met yours.

You didn’t need to be nervous anymore.

Thanks for reading!

#loki #loki x reader #loki imagine #loki fanfic #my writing

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stanknotstark · 3 years

Text

Wisdom Starts With a T (Loki x Reader)

SOOOO I’M SO EMBARRASSED THAT I FORGOT ABOUT THE GAUZE IN YOUR MOUTH AT THE END BUT I’M VERY THANKFUL @justfangirlthingies POINTED IT OUT AND I WAS GONNA FIX IT TOMORROW BUT I WOULDN’T BE ABLE TO SLEEP B/C EMBARRASSED XDDDD

You’re still not quite sure how you ended up here. Here being your head in Loki’s lap in the middle of Central Park, your body laid across an uncomfortable bench. You sit up a bit and glare at Loki.

“What did you do?” You ask the God. Noting that there is gauze sticking out of your mouth, making your speech sound slurred and muted.

Loki looks at you unamused.

“I follow your demands and even then I receive backlash.” Loki scoffs, “Typical.”

“All you were supposed to do was drive me to my appointment and then bring me back to the tower.” You say looking around the park, “This isn’t the tower.”

“An astute observation.” Loki drawls out, squinting at you. “Are you fine now?”

“What?” You ask. You can’t for the life of you remember anything that happened since before going under for your surgery.

“Are you going to cry anymore, specifically, is what I want to know.” Loki asks almost unnerved.

You close your eyes and rest your head back on Loki’s lap. You’re still a bit dizzy but clearly capable, “What did I do?”

Loki doesn’t quite snort but it’s a close call, “I think you should be asking what did you not do.”

So, Loki begins to tell you what exactly happened.

“So all I need to do is drive you there, wait till they bring you to the car and they will tell me exactly what you need the next few days. Then, I bring you back to the tower and let you sleep off the anesthesia?” Loki asks to both you and Bruce.

Bruce shrugs, pushes his glasses up his nose and nods. “Pretty much.”

“Don’t let me tell you what to do, do your best to keep me in the car, when we get back to the tower lock me in my room.” You say making sure to keep eye contact with Loki.

Loki gets a look on his face like he smelled something really bad. “And, pray tell, why must I be the one to do this tedious task again?”

Bruce chuckles. “I’d take her but Fury requires all of us minus her and you. You’re also the only other person she trusts to take her and is here at the tower to help her.”

Loki glances at you but looks away, “Of course she picks me to trust.” He says shaking his head. “Fine. I’ll take her.”

“Sweet!” You yelp with a fist pump.

~~~

After the nurse had put you in the car (Tony lent you one of his) and told Loki the instructions on how to take care of you after getting your wisdom teeth out he locked the car doors and looked at you with curiosity.

“Are you quite alright?” Loki asked as you looked around with amazement in your eyes. At his words your head snapped to him and you smiled goofy.

“Ya. I’m peachy, splendid, marvelous, dandy!” You almost yelled in the confined space, Loki looking disgusted when a little spittle flew from your mouth.

“Right.” The god said starting the car.

As you rode back in silence you began mumbling. You had hoped anyone else could have taken you because you didn’t want Loki to see you so vulnerable and small but you didn’t have any friends close enough but that’s not to say you don’t trust Loki. You just felt how you behaved would reflect badly on you since he already considered midguardians weaklings. You honestly wanted the god to like you and even be friends. You wanted more than friends but as if that would happen.

“What?” Loki asked you.

“Huh?” You said innocently, looking over at the god with wide eyes.

Loki stopped at a red light and truly looked at you.

“Why are you staring at me?” You ask shyly, bringing a hand up to push the gauze back into your mouth before it fell out.

Loki smirked, shook his head, and looked back to the road.

After a bit of silence you tell Loki, “I have a crush on someone.”

Loki raises a brow, glances at you, but does nothing more to implore.

“It’s Loki, but don’t tell him, please!” You grab ahold of Loki’s arm and tug.

Loki doesn’t even have time to react to what you said before you start bawling.

“You’re gonna tell him and then he won’t like me!”

Loki struggles to take back his arm but when he does he then uses it to pull you into a awkward side hug and shush you.

“I shall not tell him, your secret is safe with me.”

This gets you to calm down for five minutes.

“Can we go to a toy store I want to look at legos. I used to play with legos when I was little, I would build spaceships and pretend I was the pilot.” You rub your eyes of tears and sniffle. “I miss being a kid.”

“As I am sure, we all do.” Loki says under his breath.

“So can we go?” You ask with wide, puppy eyes. Loki had pulled out of the hug and instead had his free hand resting on the prindle, that’s what you liked to call it.

“No, I’m required to only take you back to the tower. Keep pressure on your gauze to stop the bleeding, please.” Loki said glancing at you as he drove.

He mentally prepared himself when he saw your eyes starting to water.

“You don’t care about me, you never did!” You wail, fat tears dropping from your eyes, your hands furiously wiping at them as they fell.

“Nonsense!” Loki says.

“If you really cared you’d take me to the park!” You yell at him.

Loki takes in a deep breath, another, then when you take in a deep breath to yell at him some more he relents, “Fine! We’ll go to the park, now will you stop your incessant whining?”

Immediately your tears stop and you’re smiling with a red nose and blotchy cheeks. “Ok!”

Loki rolls his eyes but he’s very impressed with your acting in such a state.

~~~

Loki rolls his eyes as you laugh at him from his lap.

“Thanks, for caring so much.”

“I do not care, I simply wanted you to shut up.” Loki says with a scoff but you know better because he lets a hand come down and stroke your hair.

You lay there for a bit more, picking at his casual clothes. “How long have I been sleeping?” You ask when you realize the sun that started on the east is now in the center of the sky.

“Approximately two hours, give or take a few minutes.”

Taking in your surroundings you start to hear shutters going off like crazy.

“And how long have the paparazzi been here?”

“Long enough.” Is all Loki says.

You hum but look on the bright side of things.

“Well you’ll get some good reports and they’ll probably start printing out stories about how we’ve been having a secret love affair going on.”

You feel Loki hum more than hear it, his hand stops stroking your hair but doesn’t move from its position.

“From what you said earlier I understand that you don’t mind that?” Loki asks.

You shrug but when Loki pokes your face you look at him. His eyes are imploring, he wants to hear from you, sober you, that you want it.

“Yes. I wouldn’t mind having a secret love affair with you.”

Loki smirks and his hand goes back to stroking your hair. You practically purr at the affection and snuggle into his stomach.

“Who does the paparazzi think you’re currently bedding?”

“Steve. They saw us hug at a gala event, away from prying eyes, and the stories spun out of control.”

Loki chuckles then moves your body to where you’re sitting up and hugging him by his side. When you both look at each other Loki tries to fight a smile.

“I would say we could give them a show but...”

You frown and touch the gauze sticking out of your mouth. Before you can begin to pull it out, fuck it you think, Loki snickers and stops your hands.

“I’m honored you want a kiss that bad however I do not particularly like my kisses to taste of blood.”

You pout as best you can through your gauze but concede with Loki.

“You better kiss me the minute I stop bleeding then.” You say poking Loki’s chest. He still has a smile on his face but grabs your poking hand and holds it.

“Deal, darling.”

IF YOU WANT TO SEE THE ORIGINAL ENDING WHERE I COMPLETELY FORGOT ABOUT THE GAUZE IT IS DOWN HERE

Loki shifts making you frown and sit up next to him then he brings an arm around your shoulders and pulls you into his side. When you look at him you see his eyes are focused on your lips causing you to open them slightly. In return Loki licks his lips. Loki then grabs your chin and finally looks into your eyes.

“Lets give them a story worth writing, shall we?” He asks in a low, deep voice.

You can’t speak so you nod your head and Loki smiles before bringing your lips to his.

#loki x reader #loki #reader insert #loki odinson #my writings #since i went under anaesthesia #i decided to write something for it #the way you act is a bit exaggerated but everyone reacts differently #ive seen people that are hilarious #some that bawl at everything #and then my reaction #i was literally 100% capable to go back to work and be fine #like ive been higher off weed than i was on that lmao #also i tried writting loki different than what i have been #a little at the end i kind of reverted to caring loki #but in the beginning i made him snarky #^^#wisdom starts with a t

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moontheoretist · 3 years

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MCU timeline, if they actually cared about the characters as much as we do:

Phase 1 (setting up the universe)

- Iron Man - Incredible Hulk (+ Bruce’s DID is included and well represented, Hulk is not shown as a monster which cannot control himself so much he hurts everybody around including Betty, in fact he is shown to avoid hurting anybody who isn’t actively shooting at him, Dr Samson and Rick Jones are a must for this origin story, post credit can stay the same) - Hawkeye (includes: his childhood with an abusive father, his brother Bradley, his past in the circus so basically his origin story, his deafness, him being conscripted by SHIELD, and post credit scene with him choosing not to kill Natasha) - Black Widow (includes: her childhood in the Red Room, the fall of USSR and change in Russian politics, KGB being dissolved, Natasha’s breaking of her programming, her leaving the Red Room thanks to meeting Hawkeye, the assassination of Dreykov’s daughter, What Happened in Bucharest, Natasha joining SHIELD, and post credit scene with her taking place of the PA which was supposed to apply to Stark Industries) - Iron Man 2 (+ more info about Howard’s abuse of Tony, Natasha is there, but it’s not her first appearance, and also she isn’t shown as if she knew she was in a movie) - Thor - Captain America: The First Avenger (I think that his stupid behavior in CW is completely set up by his origin story, so I wouldn’t change anything if we wanna have that conflict with him being more concerned about Bucky than literally anything else going on) - Captain Marvel (because her existence makes Fury think about Avengers and explains why Fury wanted to create them in the first place, also action happens mostly on Earth) - Avengers (+ Jane Foster and Darcy are part of the science team and greatly contribute to the plot as scientists, because I am fed up with women being sidelined)

And because Avengers has a post credit with Thanos we should get some movies in space now related to Thanos first, before Iron Man 3.

Phase 2 (we learn about the ultimate badguy)

- Guardians of the Galaxy - Thor: The Dark World (but hopefully better written, + no damselling of Jane) - War Machine (Rhodey’s only movie, Tony is busy doing whatever) - Hawkeye 2 (how Clint dealt with everything which happened during Avengers, how SHIELD agents treated him, introducing his family?, maybe bringing back Barney and showing his relationship with Mockingbird and stuff like those) - Iron Man 3 (without the ableist meta message that all disabled people just wait to become murder machines, but still introducing Extremis) - Black Widow 2 (could be the same story as we got in 2021, introducing Yelena Belova) - Quicksilver and Scarlet Witch (includes: their childhood, how their parents died (Yugoslavia being bombed by NATO, but I doubt Hollywood would ever wanna say it out loud), them growing in orphanage, possibly attending university (universities for citizens in Serbia are free and because Sokovia is based on Serbia, and it is a slavic country we can assume they have that system as well, and there are also social support programs available from both the government and possibly the university as well), the difficulties of a life in which they have to cover their costs of living themselves, because they have no parents, American army stationing in Sokovia, twins getting radicalized, protesting against foreign influences in their country and joining Hydra, experimentation, if they were trained by Hydra to use their powers or not and how were they trained, Sokovia being shown to be normal country instead of breaking apart state which Americans see each time they think about it) - Falcon (Sam’s origin story, his mission in Afghanistan and stuff - I don’t know his origin story, so I dunno what to say here) - Captain America: The Winter Soldier - TV show about the consequences of the movie above. Possibly something akin to Agents of Shield. What happened to the agents, how world reacted to Natasha’s “fuck you”. - Ant-Man (introducing Hank Pym) - Avengers: Age of Ultron (Ultron is Hank Pym’s like in the comics, but in some versions of this Tony helped or provided tech so he still wpuld feel quilty afterwards, + no dying Pietro)

Phase 3 (everything gets complicated, but they prevail)

- Incredible Hulk 2 (what happened to Bruce and Hulk and how they dealt with the idea that Steve literally had his well-being in his ass by inviting Wanda and Pietro to the team, what is going on with Thaddeus Ross and Betty Ross, we meet Jennifer Walters) - Black Panther (different one than the one we got, introduces T'Challa and his family) - Spider-Man: Homecoming (could be earlier, just after Avengers, but *shrugs* this story is written in such a way it is better after Iron Man 3 and Age of Ultron) - Captain Marvel 2 (basically setting up why she didn’t participate in Civil War, my idea was to depower her, but not take her powers away, so she could have some more down to earth stories instead of stories set in space, maybe even explore her alcoholism that way) - Quicksilver and Scarlet Witch 2 (deradicalisation, becoming heroes) - Captain America: Civil War (Accords are better explained, Matt Murdock or Jennifer Walters show up to do exactly that, RAFT is explained as American prison not related to the UN, Steve this time has valid concerns about the Accords, but he still goes ape shit over Bucky, still lies to Tony about his family, because those traits were all set in his origin movie) - The Wasp (Hope’s origin story) - Hawkeye 3 or Hawkeye TV series - Black Widow 3 (something something about Ross hunting her, but Red Room was already taken down, so different story is here instead) - Ant-Man 2 (Wasp is here too, but this is Scott’s movie, previous Ant-Man and The Wasp) - Black Panther 2 (about Kilmonger and T'Challa’s scuffle for the throne) - Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2 (didn’t know where to put it, because it is mostly unrelated to any other movies with this story about Ego, but it develops Nebula more, so let’s be here) - Doctor Strange - Thor: Ragnarok (I am not opposed to Planet Hulk, but I am more inclined to not put Bruce into a movie which is supposed to be about Thor and Loki so… more time for Brunhilde) - The Winter Soldier (solo Winter Soldier movie) - Avengers Infinity War/Endgame (it makes no sense to make two movies if we can have one, the snap was used as a plot device more than actual defeat of the Avengers, so it can last less than 5 years and also no time travel which then you have to explain why TVA didn’t put everybody in jail for that, Tony doesn’t die and Carol and some other powerful people (LIKE HULK, Hulk is NOT less powerful than Thanos or fearful or something) take down Thanos instead and Tony finally retires and is left alone by everybody goddammit)

Phase 4 (new era, some heroes retire, others take their place, while different ones just get the grip of whom they truly were all along, and also we get a new ultimate bad guy and possibly set a stage for his defeat) <- this one not really well set up, because we don’t know most of the movies and TV shows which appear in this phase so dunno how to set them.

- Spider-Man: Far From Home - Photon (origin story of Monica Rambeau) - War Machine 2 - WandaVision (or Quicksilver and Scarlet Witch 3, adjusted, so it would not repeat some facts and would only remind about the most important stuff. Also, Pietro lives in this timeline so no Bohner guy lol, he is just insufferable brother-in-law to Vision, and weird uncle to kids) - The Falcon and The Winter Soldier (but with Steve who didn’t go back in time, because there was no going back in time in this timeline, he just finally is learning what accountability is and has to forfeit his shield, because it’s time to retire) - Falcon 2 - Winter Soldier 2 - The Wasp 2 - Loki TV series (Loki survives Thanos and is taken by the TVA, it basically doesn’t force the story to make him quickly develop feelings in the first episode and bypasses that issue, + more Loki Variants, all genderluid and presenting in various ways in the show) - Incredible Hulk 3 (Bruce and Hulk finally start communicating and Hulk becomes gradually smarter, and we meet Bruce’s another alter Grey Hulk and the circus with getting along starts all over again, because Grey Hulk hates Green Hulk xD, is setting up She-Hulk) - Shang-Chi and the Legend of Ten Rings - What If…? TV show - Ms Marvel TV show - Eternals (feels like should be in different phase) - Spider-Man: No Way Home - Doctor Strange: In the Multiverse of Madness - Thor: Love and Thunder (about Mighty Thor - Jane) - Black Panther: Wakanda Forever (about Shuri?) - The Marvels (Captain Marvel 3 basically) - Ant-Man and the Wasp: Quntamania (setting mutiple Kaangs I suppose) - Moonknight TV show - She-Hulk TV show - Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 3 - Blade (feels like should be in different phase) - Fantastic Four - Avengers (in which they fight Kaang?)

I was going with the idea that every superhero should get at least 3 movies ONLY about them. As of now, I managed to put 3 only for a few, and some were swapped for TV shows instead to fill the place and better show the character and what they’re up to, because TV shows have more hours than movies.

I know there are supposed to be TV shows for Armor Wars, Iron Heart and Secret Wars, but I dunno when, so no idea where to put them.

#mcu critical #mcu #mcu au #marvel cinematic universe

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inomios · 3 years

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Beauty behind the madness || levi ackerman x reader || PART I

Summary: “You knew that under all of his layers of grief and rage there was something worth loving; he knew that under your easy smiles and sweet words there was something dark lurking. He wanted all of you and you wanted all of him.”

Genre: Fluff, Angst

Words: 7,4K

TG: Brief allusion to soldiers’ suicides; little description of a panic attack on the seventh part (I can’t feel my face); brief talk about death and addiction; and even though I wrote it all using gender neutral terms, at some point I used the term girlfriend because partner sounded too cold for the situation.

- If you are triggered by some content that I haven’t mentioned, please tell me so I can add it to the list and prevent it from happening again.

Author’s note: Mushing my favorite album with my comfort character is being so much fun. I’m enjoying so much this process you wouldn’t believe it. The second part will be up next Tuesday, and it’ll be the ending. Please, share, comment and like if you enjoyed, it would mean the world to see your reactions and impressions. As always, English is not my mother language, so sorry for the mistakes.

. . .

1. REAL LIFE

He had carved on his soul, heart and mind the words that Kenny had once told him, back when he was a scared and weak kid under his wing in the Underground, back when Kenny had caught him crying in the dead of night over his mother.

‘Boy, you won’t survive a day with that attitude. Your mother was a whore and now she’s a dead whore, get over it. You don’t have time to mop over her, crying is for people who have nothing more important to worry about.’

Kenny, for better or for worse, had taught him many lessons that became the key to his survival, advices he would never forget, and this was one of them: ‘Grieving is a waste of time.’

Every second he cried over his mother was time he could have spent granting his sorrowful existence. He couldn’t let his grief control him, because missing his mother wouldn’t make him last another day, she couldn’t protect him now that she was gone. So, for better or for worse, he let his sadness and rage aside and started focusing on what was important: survival.

Grieve is a tricky feeling, it makes you think you can control it, while it just keeps bottling up until it explodes, and you better be ready for when that happens, because you may not be able to fix the mess it’s going to leave behind.

Levi thought he had masqueraded his feelings pretty well, he tried to shrug everything off, as if nothing mattered to him, but it did, and Kenny knew it and he loved to tease him about it, he loved to press his buttons, Levi had learned that pretty soon in the relationship, but he was trying to handle his feelings, he wanted to prove Kenny he was worthy of his time, that he was strong, that he wasn’t weak, not anymore. So, whenever Kenny tried to get a reaction out of him, he kept his mouth shut, but he couldn’t water down the fire in his grey eyes and Kenny could see it, he always could.

‘You are as worthless as your mother, maybe I should leave you in a brothel too, then you would be useful for something.’

A loud howling laughter.

Levi’s brow twitched.

‘Did your mom have time to teach you how to read or was she too busy fucking half the Underground?’

He thought he had said something hilarious. He bent over his back.

Levi had a little knife clutched in his hand. He was starting to see red.

‘You’re as worthless as your mother.’

He was pushing him to his limits.

Levi had already passed them.

He liked to think that there was a dark abyss inside of him, a bottomless place where he could hide all his emotions and thoughts, they were useless, so he ignored them, he kept them away, far from the surface. Levi thought that he could detach from his pain, but it was a part of him, and if you stare into the abyss for too long, the abyss stares back at you. The Levi who grieved was still there, looking at him, the Levi who felt too much but said nothing wanted to get out, so he did, he escaped from the abyss and took control.

He run towards Kenny, eyes gleaming with unshed tears, knife in his hand, aiming for his heart, but Kenny was faster, quicker on his feet, he moved just in time. However, Levi still managed to scratch his shoulder, he teared his shirt and he could see the blood slipping, tainting the white fabric.

Kenny got mad. Levi had never seen him that furious. He grabbed his scrawny body and gave him the beating of his life. When he ended, Levi couldn’t even move, he was lying on the floor on a puddle of his own blood.

‘Listen kid, I don’t give a fuck about your shitty problems. You think you’re special? Guess what, you are a piece of shit, just like everyone else. Everyone here has issues, solve them or do whatever you want to do with them, but don’t you ever dare to pull a stunt like that again, because I’ll will leave you here to die, boy.’

That was the second lesson Kenny had told him: ‘Control is vital.’

He thought that by ignoring his feelings he was controlling them, but he was wrong, he realized that when those bottled emotions caused him to be bed ridden a few days.

Instead, he decided to let his feelings out in really calculated moments, he started to canalize all his rage into more productive stuff, like cleaning. He liked to think that by cleaning he had control over something, there was something cathartic to him in scrubbing floors, doing the laundry, and mopping floors. It was the Underground, it was filthy no matter how much effort he put into it, but it gave him something he could focus on, something he could use to let his frustrations out.

So, he cleaned, for his mother who deserved a better live.

For the innocent child that he once was, who had been stripped from everything he loved.

For Kenny, who he despised and was cruel and ruthless.

For all the things he had to do to survive.

He cleaned and cleaned, and he never had an outburst again. He was in control.

Looking back, he is sure that part of Kenny’s fury that day was that a kid made him bleed. You see, Kenny liked to think of himself as some kind of god, a ruler, someone who could control everybody, someone who was holding your fate between his calloused hands. And when he hurt Kenny, both of them realized two things, especially Levi, who discovered this: ‘Gods bleed to.’

Levi learnt his third lesson that day. No one could control him, the same way he couldn’t control anyone. You are the one who makes the decisions, just be sure to choose one you won’t regret. Kenny had no power over him, he wasn’t a god and if he was, Levi wouldn’t bow down to him.

Kenny learnt that Levi, that child, had a fire within he couldn’t tame, Levi wasn’t going to be a submissive, brainless follower. He had potential, he had willpower, he didn’t really need him, but the boy didn’t know it yet. So, when the moment came, he left. He had grown to care about his nephew, at least a little, but Levi was a survivor and Kenny knew he would fight with teeth and claws until the very end. Therefore, Kenny left him with the only person who could protect him: Levi himself.

When Kenny left him at his own, alone again in the Underground, he learnt his fourth lesson: ‘Love is a risk he wasn’t going to take again.’

2. LOSERS

Stupid is next to ‘I love you.’ He was pretty fucking sure of that.

He made a bow to himself: he wasn’t going to love anyone ever again, people are bound to leave, and whenever they left, they took away a part of him, and he was already too broken for that. However, life happens, and it turns everything upside down, it doesn’t ask for consent, so his plan of never loving again was ruined sooner than he would’ve liked.

Furlan came first. He wasn’t looking for a companion, at all. A companion meant more people to care about, a distraction, and he didn’t need any of that. However, Furlan managed to convince him that he could be useful to him. Whenever he looks back, he thinks that both of them knew that Levi didn’t need anyone, he could survive on his own, he was tougher than anyone else in the Underground, but he was alone, so alone, and a part of him yearned so much for someone that he let Furlan come with him.

Their relationship was weird at first, not sure where the boundaries of the other laid, what they could do or don’t. Furlan didn’t want to overstep and piss off Levi and Levi didn’t want to overshare with him, he didn’t want to show him his weaknesses, but at the same time he wanted to spend time with him.

He remembers that there were moments when Levi desired to say something, talk about pointless stuff, but he never did, after Kenny he was deprived of human contact that he even thought that he had lost his voice. However, as time passed them by, they fell into some type of routine, boundaries became clearer. Furlan started to get Levi, how he would never start a conversation no matter how bad he wanted; how his mind was always plotting something; how he always had an ace upon his sleeve… Furlan grew fond on him, he knew that there was a lot Levi wasn’t telling him, but from time to time he got to see a glimpse of all the man he was under his façade and layers of secrets, and he wanted to learn about him, he wanted to be his friend, he wanted to have someone to help and he wanted someone to take care of him, he wanted to stay.

On the other hand, Levi liked how Furlan seemed to know when he could talk and joke around and when he had to stay silent, it was like he understood him, Furlan was prudent and chill, thinking before acting, and he knew when to fight and when to give up. Levi started to care about him, a lot, against his better judgement, he just hoped he wouldn’t regret his choice.

Then, Isabel appeared on scene. Levi was happy enough with Furlan, he didn’t need someone else to worry about, that was more trouble, more chances to get hurt. However, he soon found he had a soft spot for the girl. She was so energetic, so bubbly, eyes always gleaming with hope, she was a ray of light in the darkest place. She was messy, reckless and wild, she balanced them out. When she asked to join them, Levi wanted to let out one of his characteristic ‘Tch’ and turn his back on her, there was no room for compassion in the Underground, but he couldn’t, he was weaker than he thought. He couldn’t leave her at her own knowing she could get herself killed, he didn’t want to be like Kenny, he wasn’t going to be like him.

The three of them became a gang, well, not just a gang, a family too. They looked after each other, they looked after Levi, just like his mother did. They were the best criminals in the Underground, and sometimes Levi felt like a god with the world at his feet. He shouldn’t have forgotten his third lesson: ‘Gods bleed too.’ He thought they were invincible, they weren’t, they were no gods, life wouldn’t bend at their will.

When Isabel and Furlan died, he didn’t even have proper bodies to bury, he just did two little makeshift graves and carved their name on the gray stone. He was the only person who would remember them, so he visited them at least once a week (he still does), mainly during his sleepless nights, when no one would ever question or notice his absence. Talking with them was the only reason why he hadn’t given up long time ago, he was their leader, he told them to always keep going, to never back down.

So, he kept going, for his mother, for Isabel and for Furlan. For the only people who ever loved him.

Maybe he didn’t really keep going, maybe he just let life pass by, what mattered was that he was alive and fighting for a purpose, he owed them that, their deaths wouldn’t be in vain.

Why did he always have to lose everything?

Why there was nothing good in store for him?

He was bound to lose to lose everything.

Stupid is next to I love you.

He was so fucking foolish.

3. TELL YOUR FRIENDS

The mission had been a carnage, a lot of fallen soldiers. He could still hear their screams and see the fear in their eyes, more images to haunt him while he was sleeping, as if they weren’t already enough. He couldn’t save anyone, he never could, he was human after all, even if some people thought about him like a god.

He had had a problem with his ODM gear during the mission, the gas cylinders were failing and wasting too much gas, so he ran out of it pretty quickly, which costed him a seven meters fall, breaking his right leg, his left arm, a few ribs and a concussion in the process. He could have died and a part of him wished he had, then, the pain would have ended. Luckily, Hange arrived just in time to help him, he still thinks that maybe they knew what was going on in his head, that he had thought about giving up right there, and that’s why as soon as they arrived back home, they sent him to the infirmary, not wanting to leave him alone. Hange still says it was because he couldn’t take proper care of his injuries by himself. They both knew he had had it way worse than that.

The infirmary was clean, and that meant a lot according to his standards, but your desk wasn’t, not at all and it was driving him crazy, if he could, he would get up and clean it himself. However, you seemed unphased by it, every day you would drop more documents on your table (but no document ever left, they just kept piling up); he had seen you drop coffee on some paper and not giving a fuck a single fuck about it; you had seven books on your table, none of them related with medicine, you just had them there because you wanted; and if you asked him what irked him the most, he would say the brush, you had a brush in your desk and it was full of hair. He couldn’t get his eyes of your desk, and if you ever noticed, you never did anything about it; or maybe you did notice and since you are a little shit, you just wanted to see how far you could go before he went feral. We will never know.

If you had been any other person, like one of the members of his squad, he would have said something way earlier, but you weren’t his subordinate, you were a medic and as far as he knew, he didn’t have the right to scold you at your own workplace.

You were competent, you just talked when necessary and you would always ask him if he wanted something, no matter how many times he had said ‘no’ and whenever Hange came to visit, you would always talk with them and ask them about their experiments and research. Hence, Hange thought you were the sweetest person ever, they had even told him that he better not be giving you any trouble.

You both had an easy routine. You would come in first hour in the morning, trying to be silent with no success at all, you were so noisy, luckily for him, he never sleeps more than four hours. You would sit on your desk and write a letter, every day, who the fuck had so many people to talk to or how many things worth telling did happen in your life? Then, you would go out to get him breakfast and you brought more documents with yourself, his breakfast always came with a cup of tea, a shitty cup of tea, but at least it wasn’t coffee or juice, he didn’t know if you were the one behind the tea, but if you were, he was glad you didn’t work on the kitchen. After breakfast, Hange would pay him a visit and talk with him, his squad would often visit him after training and Erwin once or twice a week, whenever his work let him a little free. At midday you would water the plants on the window, you had once called them ‘Asphodels’ and after watering them you disappeared, at the beginning he thought you just went to eat, later on, he would find why you did that. The rest of the day was the same, you wrote and read documents and he would either look annoyed at your desk or he would vert his gaze at the window to distract himself.

This routine changed the second week, because you asked him two questions that made him be more comfortable around you.

‘Why do you look at my desk as if it were making you sick?’

‘Tch, because is making me sick, it’s dirty as fuck.’

Okay, not the best words, but you asked, and he answered. He would be lying if he said he didn’t feel better after telling you. You blushed a little and scratched your neck bashfully.

‘Sorry, I can be a little messy sometimes.’

‘I can see.’

That day you spent the evening emptying your desk, any other person would have asked you not to bother, but Levi couldn’t care, after all, his last thread of sanity depended on that desk. When you finished cleaning, you asked the second question.

‘You hate my tea, but you drink it anyways, why?’

He felt his ears getting a little red, and he just shrugged and looked away.

‘You are taking care of me, didn’t wanna be a bitch about it.’

You smiled, a smile brighter than the morning star, and for a fraction of second he forgot how the breath, but he obviously didn’t say a thing about it.

‘I promise you that tomorrow you’ll have the best tea ever.’

‘Tch, if you say so.’

He appreciated your gesture, kindness wasn’t something he was used to, it felt weird and strange to have someone to do good things just for the sake of doing them, it made him wary, he would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought that maybe you wanted to get something from him and that’s why you acted so nicely around him.

The next day, after writing your daily letter, at your then clean desk, you brought him breakfast with a steaming cup of tea. He drank the beverage under your expecting gaze and to his surprise it was nice, not the best tea ever made, but definitely not the worst.

‘It tastes better.’

‘Thanks, this time I followed the recipe.’ You admitted proudly.

‘How the fuck were you even making tea before?’

‘Instinct?’

He looked at you astonished, how come you were a doctor, but you couldn’t follow a three-step recipe? At that moment he thought his health was in the hands of dumbest medic in the area, however, he didn’t really care, well, at least not as much as he would have expected. You had something, an aura around your persona, that was soothing and endearing, rather than infuriating.

At the crack of dusk on that same day, he was the one who asked a question.

‘Who are you always writing?’

For a moment he swears he saw your happy demeanor quivering, as if he had opened a cage that should have remained closed, but you quickly fixed, the funny glint coming back at your eyes as fast as it had left. It was in that moment when he knew that you weren’t as shallow as he may have deemed you to be.

‘I’m just telling my friends about this annoying patient I have. Do you know he made me clean my office desk?’

Your voice was laced with amusement, you were trying to divert his attention to another topic, and he knew, but he was no one to press you about it.

‘Well, as soon as I’m free, I’m telling my friends about how my medic is a fucking shitshow.’ Too blunt, but you brushed it off.

‘They sound like a nightmare.’

‘They are.’

You smiled, yet again as blinding as the sun.

He didn’t smile, he didn’t even grimace, his face was as stoic as always, but for a split of second, a smile nearly slipped in.

To his surprise, he actually talked about you to his friends. When he had the medical lease, the first thing he did was visit Isabel and Furlan’s impromptu graves and talk about you. It wasn’t a lot, he just mentioned you a few times. It didn’t mean a thing, and at the same time, it meant everything.

4. OFTEN

It didn’t mean a thing.

Not a single thing.

It was unimportant.

He was like that with everyone.

Except he wasn’t and he knew it.

What the hell was wrong with him?

He would always find himself at your door, not because he was sick or harmed, he just felt the need to see you. He didn’t even talk with you that much, he wasn’t good at opening up or even small talk. He was foul-mouthed, snarky and his words could cut deeper than a knife. You were soft, kind, funny and there weren’t uncomfortable silences with you, your presence was comforting. Levi didn’t get why he felt that way about you, he barely knew you, but you had something that drew him in, maybe it was the normalcy you brought him. You were a doctor, you healed people, you tended their injuries; you hadn’t seen the titans, you hadn’t seen comrades die at their merciless hands, you didn’t know what was outside the walls and he liked that. You were an escape. It was as if his life was only centered around Titans and his existence had no other point but to kill or think about to kill Titans: Hange were always babbling about Titans; his paperwork was always a painful reminder of fallen mates; Erwin was always tracing missions and plans; and the whole point of his squad was training to defeat those beasts. He never had a break, but visiting you felt like it.

He knocked at your door and it opened, you were at your desk, which was an unorganized mess then again, humming some song he didn’t know while you were reading some medical reports. And the asphodels in the window looked beautiful as always.

‘Hi, Levi.’ You looked up and gave him a smile.

Your smiles.

Oh man, he took them in like a dehydrated man would savor the first droplets of rain.

He just nodded as a salute and walked towards the window to see the asphodels.

‘Why asphodels?’ he asked, you loved those flowers, and they weren’t necessary the most beautiful.

To him you were more like yellow lilies, he had read somewhere that yellow lilies meant joy and happiness. They always brought a simile to one’s face because they are the true depiction of the sun, just like you were.

‘I don’t know, they are special’ you said with a small voice, the same haunted look in your eyes, the same that appeared when he asked about your letters.

‘I guess they are.’

A comfortable silence fell in the room. He was getting used to these havens of peace.

That night at dinner, he was sitting next to Erwin, Hange in front of him, looking at him quizzically.

‘What’s going between you and y/n? You’re always at their place.’ They ask.

‘Tch, nothing, I just visit them often.’

Lies

‘So, there is no ulterior motive, like, I don’t know, our Short king having a crush?’ Levi sometimes forgot how punchable Hange’s face was.

‘No.’

More lies.

Something was going on, they both knew, but he was too scared to think about what it was.

5. THE HILLS

Another fight. More deaths. What was the point of it? He felt like he was fighting for a pointless cause, the more deaths, the less they knew. He would have to send more letters to the families, telling them that their sons and daughters fought bravely until their last breath and sacrificed their lives for the sake of humanity. However, broken families would come to him and ask him if it was worth it, if the death of their children, cousins, brothers and parents brought them answers, if their deaths meant that humanity was closer to taste the freedom they longed for. He had always said that no death was in vain, but he was starting to question that.

He had barely seen you after the mission, he retreated to his quarters, drowning himself in reports and regrets, if he had been better, he could have saved more lives, but he wasn’t enough, he was no hero, he was a human. He had been fighting his whole life and he just wanted it to stop, he wanted peace and tranquility, not more deaths at his shoulders, no more ghosts to haunt him at the end of the day.

He never slept, at least not for more than a few hours. However, after a mission he didn’t sleep at all, the images of his comrades’ deaths still fresh on his mind, their screams still piercing his ears, his sanity vanished a little bit more every time he tried to close his eyes, so he just laid awake looking at the roof, thinking about all the things he could have done to save them, repeating their names as if he was asking for their forgiveness.

Sometimes it all got too much, and he needed to walk to clear his mind, there were nights when he walked for hours with no direction at all, but that night he did have a direction: your office. He didn’t really know why he was doing it, but he was too tired to turn back and ask himself why you. He thought that you would probably be asleep, but to his surprise there was a dim light coming from your office, so he knocked, just like all of those times before, and your soft voice told him to come in.

He had never seen you so disheveled and tired, dark bags under your eyes, traces of tears on your face and bloodshot eyes. He also noticed four new asphodels on your desk. He looked at them and then he looked at you. He wanted to ask, but he couldn’t, so you spoke.

‘My regrets follow you to the grave.’ He barely heard you.

‘What?’

‘That’s what asphodels mean, you asked me about them once, you remember?’

He nodded, that’s all he could do.

‘I couldn’t save them, I tried, but I wasn’t good enough.’ You broke down to tears.

He wasn’t good at processing his own emotions, let alone other people’s. What was he supposed to do? He knew that people hugged to show support, but as he would say, he was ‘emotionally constipated’, so he just stayed there, looking at you.

Do something.

But he remained stiff, it was like watching the scene happen in third person.

‘I’m sorry, I know this is making you uncomfortable, it’s just that it’s been a long day.’

‘It’s been a long day for me to.’ His voice was hoarse. ‘You told me that asphodels mean ‘my regrets follow you to the grave’, that’s why you have them? Because you feel guilty?’

‘I plant one for every soldier that dies on my watch.’ That was the first time you opened up with him.

‘I keep the badges of their uniforms.’ That was the first time he opened up with you.

Right then everything shifted.

‘It wasn’t your fault.’ He knew those feelings, the remorse and the guilt, he was so painfully familiar with them that they had become a part of his being.

‘It wasn’t your fault either, Levi.’

It wasn’t your fault either.

Your words echoed in his mind like a drum and for a moment he believed them.

You came closer and you wrapped your arms around him, he tried to respond, embracing you in strangely, you laughed at his antics and in that moment, he wanted to disappear. You smiled and you readjusted his arms around your waist. He brought you closer, slowly, not wanting to scare you away and break the moment. You laid your head in his chest, right above his heart, and he hoped you couldn’t hear his heart beating wildly. He hid his face in the crook of your neck, his breath tickling your skin and your smell intoxicating him. For a moment he felt like home, even though he didn’t understand what ‘being home’ meant, but it had to be very similar to that: comforting, reassuring, peaceful, safe.

That night, he spent what felt like hours holding you, until you had to part separate ways, the only witnesses were the asphodels and the hills at the distance.

6. ACQUAINTED

What are we?

Levi couldn’t stop asking himself that question.

Friends didn’t have what you two had. Maybe he wasn’t the most amicable person, but he had had some friends in his life: he once had Isabel and Furlan when he was younger, and now he had Hange and Erwin, and maybe he could even consider his squad friends. And none of what he felt for them was like what he felt for you.

He tried to make sense of his thoughts by writing them, but words weren’t his forte and he just ended more and more confused.

You were nice.

You were beautiful.

You made him laugh, well, not laugh, but close enough.

You were kind.

He appreciated you, he cared for you and he wanted to protect you, but he also felt the same towards Erwin, Hange and his squad. Then, if it was the same, why it was completely different.

He kept visiting you, everything looked like it was the same, but everything had changed. It felt like the calm before the storm, as if something was about to happen, the tides were shifting, he could feel it. There were words unsaid lingering in the atmosphere and sooner or later, someone would have to utter them. But who? And if you spoke them, what would he say?

He also spent a lot of his time thinking about that too, if you happened to confess your feelings for him, if you had them, would he be able to respond them? Normal people would try, give it a shot and see what would happen, what the relationship had in store, let things flow; but he wasn’t normal, he was far from normal, he knew he wasn’t the easiest to love. He was rude, mean, a control freak, he wasn’t the one for big displays of affection, he was the last person someone would want as a partner. People yearned for epic love stories, something that could take your breath away and he wouldn’t be able to do that, he wouldn’t be able to give you the bare minimum.

Also, after all the people he had lost, he didn’t want your name to be added to that list. He preferred the uncertainty of your relationship than the possibility of losing you. If he left more people in, more people he could lose. He wasn’t stupid, he knew you were already in, but there were still boundaries between both of you.

He had also fantasized about laying himself bare in front of someone, share all of his trauma and memories, share the burden with someone, but who would love all of him? If he couldn’t even stand himself most of the days, how could he expect that someone would do it?

‘If you were a flower, I think you would be a gladiolus.’ You would always blurt nonsense out of the blue, but for some reason, he found it endearing instead of annoying.

‘Tch, what’s even that supposed to mean?’

‘I don’t know, it’s just, gladius symbolize strength, generosity, faithfulness and I guess those are things I associate with you.’ Your cheeks were tainted with the softest tones of red and you weren’t looking at him, your gaze was fixed on your paperwork.

Those words had a way deeper meaning, he knew it and you knew it, it was as if you were testing the water by putting the tips of your feet in it. As per usual he didn’t know what to say, what was he supposed to say to that? Thanks? I think I may be falling for you?

‘Sorry, I made things weird, I should just-’ you couldn’t finish because he had started talking.

‘I think you would be a yarrow flower.’ Amazing, now he was the one talking nonsense.

Not so long ago he pictured you as yellow lilies, joy and happiness, but after getting to know you better, he realized that that description was too shallow for what you meant to him. He didn’t know a lot about flowers, he wasn’t really into botany, but he had heard about yarrow before, he had heard merchants inside Sina call them ‘plant doctor’, since they would be often placed near other plants to keep the pests away, he had also heard that it was considered invasive too, because how easily it spread. Therefore, the association came quickly to him, you were healing, a solace from the cruelty of his world; and you were invasive, because he couldn’t be away from you, you consumed him.

‘That means a lot.’ Your blush was now more pronounced now and he wondered what you had made out of his words.

He felt a wave of panic travel through his body, maybe that statement was too deep, maybe he screwed it all, so he decided to excuse himself and ran away from the situation he had created. He had told you he was going to his room, he lied, he was going to the library, he needed to see what his words had meant. He wasted all his evening looking for books about the meaning of flowers, he sure looked like a madman, he hadn’t even gone to the Mess Hall to have dinner, he needed to found answers, and he found them at two a.m.

“The secret language of flowers” said the title, he opened the book and he started looking for the yarrow’s meaning.

Healing and Good Health

Courage and War

Everlasting Love

When he read the last symbolism of the flower, his heart stopped for a whole minute, did he just declare his feelings, that he wasn’t ever sure of, to you? He wanted to disappear in the spot, just vanish into the air.

He went to his room, holding the book close to his chest. He spent the rest of the night reading the book, he wouldn’t mess up again, if he ever wanted to talk about flowers with you, he would be informed. When the sun rose, his head was buzzing with flower meanings, and he would be lying if he said that he hadn’t thought about you while reading some of them.

At breakfast he did go to the Mess Hall and took his usual place.

‘Where were you yesterday at dinner?’ asked Erwin.

‘With his girlfriend.’ Replied Hange with a big smile.

‘She’s not my girlfriend.’ He said with a grunt.

‘What are they then?’ Hange was using the tone, the one which meant “I know you’re hiding something, and I won’t stop pestering you until I discover it.”

‘We are just acquainted.’

‘Liar.’

7. CAN’T FEEL MY FACE

He remembered how there were days when Kenny would drink himself to oblivion, Levi didn’t understand why he did it. He didn’t see the point of passing out in the floor, and when he asked, Kenny answered that ‘his vices kept him sane’. It still made no sense to him, how a man could be so cunning and sharp, while he wasted his nights and days with alcohol, women and many other things that Levi wasn’t interested on trying. He had seen Kenny drunk and it was far from having control. The first lesson Kenny had told him was that control is vital, then, how come he was powerless in his own life, letting alcohol take control of him.

‘You’re old enough to try it, boy. Take some if you want.’

The first time Kenny offered him alcohol, he had declined, he had said no, and Kenny had shrugged it off, as if saying: ‘more for me.’ He wouldn’t get it, it didn’t make sense, Kenny, who prided himself on his cold-blood and his steel nerves, would renounce to that control so easily, he didn’t want to be like that, never in a million years, he would never give up his self-control.

Until he did.

He had lost control. And he now understood Kenny.

He knew he should distance himself from you, he didn’t want more Furlan’s and Isabel’s, he was getting dangerously close to you and he didn’t want that. He should run away, disappear. You were kind and sweet, you would find someone else to feel the void he would inevitably leave. He had always been the one being left behind, and he survived, you would too. Also, it’s not as if he contributed a lot to your life. He was sure you both would be better with the other far away, I mean, the facts were there. Actually, they had been spiraling in his head for a while.

Then, if he knew all of that, why was he helping you cut clean bandages, especially so close to you that he could smell your shampoo? Oh yeah, because you asked him to, as easy as that, all his conviction melted away from every fiber of his body.

Why did he do that? Why was he so helpless around you? Oh yeah, because you made him feel so damn good. You had him wrapped around your finger and you didn’t seem to notice, you acted as if it was nothing, you had power over him, you had Humanity’s Strongest at his knees.

‘My family died a long time ago, I couldn’t save them, I moved in with my aunt and I decided that I’d study medicine for them.’ You said out of the blue.

You cut one bandage.

‘The letters I write are for them. It’s stupid, but it makes me feel closer to them.’

You cut another bandage.

He didn’t say a thing.

He hated himself, any other person would have hugged you or said something, he just stayed there, frozen and acting as cold as always. Why did you confide in him something so personal? He wasn’t the one to go when you are sad, he didn’t even know how to process his own trauma and baggage most of the time. What was he supposed to do?

On the other hand, you trusted Levi more than anyone in your life. He brought you peace and solace, something you thought you would never have.

You lost your family when you were really young, always feeling guilty for being the one who survived, and you promised to yourself you would vow your life to help the others, never putting your needs first. When you joined the military, you watched many soldiers die on your hands, you could still hear their last words, how scare they were, how they didn’t want to die like that, alone and far away from their family; you could also recall their mutilated bodies; and you could also remember how many of them would survive the Titans but lose the fights against their own mind and end up being another fallen soldier that died for nothing. You loved your job, but it also killed a part of you every day, there were no victories on a war, and you knew it. That’s why you picked up gardening, you planted a flower for every soldier who died, something to remember them.

When you met Levi, you admired him, you had heard the stories about him, his courage, mood changes, sharp tongue, skills, intelligence… You would be lying if you said he didn’t make you curious, you were used to soldiers haunted by the horrors they had faced, but something about him was different, maybe because you saw yourself in those grey eyes. You two were similar, you both had so much pent up that you could not talk about, you had an image to keep, and it was exhausting. He had a name to uphold, people looked up to him, if he failed, if he crumbled, everyone else would; you were a doctor, and no matter how hard things were, you had to be strong for your patients, never showing how much their pain took a toll on you. You could let your mask down, because even though he didn’t talk too much or overall understand why you were sharing that, it felt good, liberating.

Sometimes, he would also talk about him, not a lot, but enough to make you feel understood, and those moments, when he showed the man underneath the façade, glimpses of his true persona, those few minutes, sometimes even seconds, were responsible for your growing feelings for the captain.

‘It’s not stupid, I talk to my dead friends’ graves.’ He said nonchalantly, as if he wasn’t baring a piece of him in front of you.

Those kind of flashes of the man he was underneath took your breath away every single time.

You came close to him, slowly, testing the waters, not wanting to scare him away. Maybe it was too forward, too reckless, too much at a time, but he didn’t move. You brought your hand to his cheek. He didn’t jump away. You looked into his eyes, pools of mercury. He held your gaze, expecting your next move. You could feel the tension. He could too.

‘They would be really proud of you.’ You said, voice thin and trembling.

He was silent. Your words caught him of guard.

He was feeling too much. His heartbeat was erratic, beating wildly, he could hear it. He felt the blood boiling under his skin, he was so hot, he was sweating. He couldn’t move, but he felt his body trembling. He could feel the room closing on him, trapping him. He wasn’t in control.

It was a too familiar feeling, one he had experienced a thousand times before.

‘Levi, are you okay? I’m sorry I’ve made you uncomfortable.’ You said worriedly.

He didn’t know what to do, he just wanted the pain in his chest to end.

You were too close. You were trapping him too. So, he pushed you away from you and run from the infirmary. You couldn’t see him like that, no one could.

Why did he share that with you? Why did you get too close? Were you going to kiss him?

Why?

Why was he like that?

Why did he ruin things?

Why did he lose control of himself? He couldn’t even feel his face when you touched it.

He felt pathetic. He felt like the little kid he once was.

Control is vital.

If he was with you, he wasn’t in control. And if he lost his control, then he would have nothing.

He had to get away from you, because you were stripping him from the only thing he had: his control.

#levi ackerman #levi attack on titan #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman imagine #attack on titan #aot fanfiction #levi ackerman headcanons #levi ackerman oneshot #snk #snk fanfiction #shingeki no kyoujin levi #captain levi #levi ackerman fanfiction #levi x reader #aot x reader #snk x reader #levi fanfiction #shingeki no kyojin

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inkandpen22 · 3 years

Text

On The Sidelines (Nick Fury)

Request: Hiii, could I request an angst and fluffy Nick Fury x Reader? The S/O knows that Fury loves them back, but he doesn't want a relationship 'cause is overprotective? Hope you can do it ☺️ have a nice day!! 💖💖💖

Pairing: Nick Fury x Gender Neutral!Reader

Warnings: swearing

Word Count: 1k

Masterlist

All afternoon Tony has tried to make me feel better, but nothing’s working. Ever since that stupid incident with Ultron I’ve been treated like a baby. I’m not even the baby of the group anymore! Peter took that spot when he joined the Avengers. Fury used to send me out all the time on missions, lately he’s just been dodging me. It’s so frustrating!

"No I don't want a burrito!" I snap at Tony.

His tongue ticks. "What about-"

"Not shawarma either!" I groan.

He leans over the back of the couch, hovering over me. "How can I do to help?"

I whine, rolling. If I watch another rerun episode of Keeping Up with the Kardashians, my head will explode. "I'm feeling trapped! It's been months since I got hurt! I'm fine now! Why am I being kept here?"

"You were in a coma for a week," he reminds.

"That was half a year ago!"

"You took a hit. It scared everyone."

"I'm stronger now!" I reason.

He nods. "We know that."

"Tell me why I'm stuck here all the time? Even Peter gets to help out and he's a kid! I control the elements for Pete's sake! He has webs!"

"Peter has his restrictions too. His little Spidey suit is on training wheels," he tries to explain.

"He got to help you when you and Cap. got a little West Side Story."

"He also wasn't around for Ultron. You were. Imagine the guilt I feel every day because my machine knocked you out for almost ten days!"

"Minor details." I dismiss.

Suddenly, Peter swings into the room from the balcony. Every day after school he comes here for assignments, training, everything I can't do.

"Hi guys!" He greets all cheery.

I growl and roll onto my side to hide my face into the couch.

"What's wrong with her?" I hear Peter whisper to Tony.

"Not a good time kid." Tony ushers the boy out of the room and returns to me.

"See!" I huff once we're alone again. "He gets to swing around all over the city and I-"

"Go talk to Fury!" Tony concludes, making his way toward the door.

"But!"

Tony snaps. "Look, I don't always make the calls here! I make most of them, because well, I'm me. But go to talk to Fury, this is his department. Bye! Have fun!" He departs, following Peter down the hall.

I huff and hide my face in the pillow beneath my head. "I hate it here."

_______________________________________

I follow Tony's advice and make my way downstairs to meet with Fury. His worker bees say he's in the control room with his command team of agents. I swing open the massive metal doors to the control room and everyone's typing away on the computers.

"And do we have eyes on Loki?" Fury asks.

"Yes, and the remaining Infinity Stones are still secure." Agent Hall states from her desk.

"Afternoon!" I greet, knowing darn well I'm not supposed to interrupt.

"Uh Y/N," Agent Hall rises from her chair and intercepts me. "This is a classified meeting."

"Oh my goodness! Fury standing at his panel while you all type away at your computers? You never do that! Seems real serious!" I sass.

"Please-"

"Okay, Agent Hall, respect you loads, but you're going to need to back off!" I shout over her shoulder at the man who has yet to acknowledge my presence. "Nick!"

A silence falls amongst the command team. No one calls Fury by his first name.

Fury's head falls with a sigh. "Everyone give us a moment please."

Everyone hurries out the entrance behind me, mutters traveling amongst them.

He finally turns to face me with a sigh. He's visibly frustrated. "You can't just barge in here like that and you can’t call me ‘Nick.’ People will begin to suspect something and-"

I get right to the point. "Why am I sitting around here like a stay-at-home mom waiting for her kids to come home from school? Why am I not being used?"

"Y/N, you're injured,"he reasons calmly. “You’re not ready.”

"I'm fully healed and you know it! I’ll just go find my own missions!” I huff, determined to prove him wrong.

"Given that it’s a stupid-ass decision, I’ve elected to ignore it. The blood damage to your brain needs to pass a series of tests before I send you in,” he determines.

"Then put me under and take your samples! I can't sit around here anymore! I'm going crazy!"

"You're one of our bests. Don't expect the baddest of the bad missions," he grumbles, turning back to his control panel.

I laugh, standing beside him. "I'm not one of your bests. I'm just an elemental. Everyone knows Tony or Banner are the favorites."

"I don't play favorites." He defends. We both know that’s not true.

I laugh. "Bullshit, but okay," I shrug.

"Watch your tongue," he warns, never breaking his eyes away from the information on his board.

I huff. "I just need to know why I was recruited and brought here at sixteen if I'm not even going to be used? I might as well just go home and-"

Fury slams his hands against his panel and his eyes meet mine. "Because I can't lose you!" He snaps. "We had a close call last time and I'm not going to send out on a death mission! You can do press tours, conferences, the mild fights here and there. But I won't send you to ground zero for complete chaos, not again." He releases a deep breath, collecting himself before turning his attention back to his work. "Tell anyone I said that and I'll deny it until my grave." His eyes flicker to mine. "Okay?"

I nod, still stunned. "Okay." Quietly, I begin to the exit. Well, I got my answer, it's just not what I expected. Now it's all starting to make sense.

"Hey!" Fury's voice booms and I'm prepared to be yelled at again. I turn over my shoulder and he speaks over his shoulder. "I love you."

I smile. "I know. I love you too," I tell him. "And don't worry. I won't tell anyone that either."

____________________________

Masterlist

#nick fury #marvel #avengers #the avengers #captain america #black widow #tony stark #peter parker #hulk #bruce banner #avengers fanfiction #avengers imagine #marvel fanfiction #marvel imagine #nick fury imagine #nick fury fanfic

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avungerthatgotaway · 3 years

Text

The Soldier of the Night

heyyyy guys!! this is my first ever request fic and im so excited to do iiiit. please tell me what you think of it in the comments🥰

it's made for this request

summary: y/n finally takes matters into her own hands and escapes hydra. but it won't be as easy as she tought...

warnings: mentions of blood and child neglect

pairings: avengers x teen!reader (platonic)

genre: angst-ish, fluff at the end

Sorry for grammar mistakes.

If you have request feel free to ask🥰

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

Y/N Y/LN, but no one calls you by that name. To the world you are known as The Soldier of the Night, the merciless murderer. Mothers all over the world use you to teach their kids about most dreadful dangers. People gather around campfire in woods and share scary stories of your cold heart and homicides you don't feel guilty about. You are the biggest fear of each and every government there is in world.

And you always wonder what all those people would say if they knew how old you were. Or that you never kill willingly. Or that you silently pray every night for the victims you harmed or killed in your brainwashed state.

Or that hydra has no control over you anymore. You are currently running, without exact destination, just to get as far from hydra as you can. They are probably alerted of your absence by this point, but you are already in New York, so you can maybe find a hiding spot before they find you.

-Avengers pov

Nick Fury hurried to the avengers tower, where he called a sudden meeting this morning.

When he came in Steve and Sam were sweaty, probably just came from their morning jog. Bucky was still fighting sleep in his pyjamas, hair sticking out in different directions. Wanda was starring daggers at him for waking her up so early. Tony and Bruce were in lab coats, probably didn't sleep at all. All other avengers were at their respective missions.

"I called this meeting because my resources told me infamous Soldier of the Night is out of hydra HQ. We don't know why, but it's probably another killing mission for hydra. He is currently laying low, somewhere around south entrance to the city. Your mission is to stop him from harming anyone and bring him here. Alive if possible, it would benefit us to know what are hydra's plans at the moment." he finished.

"Alright." said Steve dutifully. "Any information we can get on him before we go?"

"Not much. Only that he is dangerous, and doesn't spare anyone. He is a ghost story. We don't even know if it's a he, that's just a guess."

"Very well. Everyone suit up, I expect you in front of tower in 10." Steve said and left, other avengers following behind.

They came back that evening, exhausted of their unsuccessful search. There was no trace of the soldier. But they had to keep looking as long as there's hope to get rid of the monster.

-2nd person pov

Your heart was racing a hundred miles. You were well aware of the possibility of hydra finding you. But you didn't expect it to be this soon. You were in hiding for only 2 months and they already tracked you down.

Windows broke on your left side and hydra agents started piling in. At the same time on your right side the door broke down revealing whole avengers team, with few additions. You faintly remember one of them as The Winter Soldier, but what was he doing with avengers? Your toughts were cut short by a punch in your face delivered by one of hydra agents.

That's when it snapped: you had to fight for your life. And you probably had to fight both sides.

You started fighting hydra agents, harming them as much as you can without killing.

The avengers stand at the doorstep, and you faintly hear one of them saying "What the actual fuck?". They seemed belivered.

But they soon join the fight knocking out hydra agents. A fist connected with the back of your head, knocking you out into pool of darkness.

Light clacking of bottles was the first thing you hear when you wake up. You squint your eyes open, panic finnaly kicking in to where you are. Your first tought was that you were back in hydra HQ, but the room was way too light for that, and hydra wanted you dead.

You started panicking and franatically got out of the bed, trying to escape. Whoever this is, they nean no good. Even avengers want to kill you. But as soon as you got up, black dots invaded your vision, causing you to fall. But before you hit the groung a pair of arms caught you, leading you to sit back in bed.

"Hey, hey sweetie calm down. No one will harm you here. Don't make any sudden movements, your head is still not completely healed." a man told you.

You just layed back and watched him bandage your wrist.

"I am Bruce Banner, by the way. What is your name?" he asked kindly.

"Y/N Y/LN" you whispered, almost inaudibly but he heard it.

"Alright, Y/N. I think I bandaged all your bruises. Rest of the team is waiting out, do you maybe want to meet them?"

By 'team' he probably meant rest of the avengers. You saw a big 'A' painted on the wasll, so that had to be it, right? You immediately shook your head no, eyes widening in fear. You still weren't sure they won't harm you, and meeting them seemed overwhelming in your current state.

"It's okay, calm down. You can meet them later. I will stay with you a little. We could talk if you want?"

You just shrugged your shoulders, not particularly fond of talking with anyone, but not wanting to seem rude because he did help you.

"Okay. How old are you Y/N?" he asked slowly.

"(your age)" you quietly said.

"Dear lord, you really are just a kid. I'm so sorry for everything you've gone through."

You just zoned out, thinking about everything that happened, when something poped up in your mind.

"Mr. Banner?" you asked shyly.

"Call me Bruce kiddo. What is it?"

"I tought I saw The Winter Soldier at the door when you guys came to get me?"

"Oh yes. Bucky. He was also in hydra, as you probably know. He was brainwashed. I suppose you were too?"

"I was, every time I killed somebody. Sometimes I went to missions with other agents and they didn't brainwash me, but I never killed anyone when I was in my senses." You started thinking about your victims as teers pooled in your eyes.

"We supposed so. Do you want me to bring Bucky in a little? Maybe he can help you feel better, because he knows what you're going through."

You slowly nodded, not wanting to reject meeting avengers the second time.

"Alright, he'll be here in a minute." Bruce gave you a gentle smile and patted your shoulder.

A minute after he exited, in came Bucky. He looked better than when you saw him last, but you doubted he's seen you. You were sneaking out, tryna find some food, when you heard and saw agents torturing him. That's about only memory you have of him, along with stories you've heard from other people.

"Hello there doll. How are you? Bruce told me you remember me." he said gently, sitting at the edge of your bed.

"I-I am alright, i guess. Th-thanks. And yes, I do. A little. I was passing by door, when I saw them torturing y-yo-you." you started sobbing a little, the memory bringing back others. Memories of them torturing you. And you torturing other people in your brainwashed state.

"Hey don't cry. It's okay, shhh. Come here." he opened his arms, and you hesitantly scooted closer, not exactly sure what he wanted. He circled his arms around you, and you flinched, thinking he's gonna attack you. But he just gently kept his arms wrapped around you, soothingly rubbing you back. after some time you wraoed your arms around his middle, still not sure what's going on.

But it was a nice feeling. You never felt something like it before. You felt so safe, like nothing could harm you as long as you two stay like that. You wanted to know what was all this about.

"Wha-at are you do-oing?" you asked after you stopped sobbing, but still hiccuping a little.

"Oh, I'm hugging you. Are you uncomfortable? I will stop if you are. Sorry." he said starting to draw back.

"No!" you quickly said, clutching onto him like koala. You were afraid the sense of comfort will leave you as soon as he withdraws from you.

"Shhh, doll. I won't let go. Never. Nothing will ever harm you here kiddo. We will take care of you. You can live normal life, like all other kids. Maybe go to school after you adapt to your surroundings. Here is a kid Peter he is about your age. You can make friends your age. And of course we will be your friends. For as long as you want it."

"Wait, I can live here? I'm not a burden?"

"No, of course not. Don't ever think that, please."

"B-Bu-Bru" you struggled to remember what Bruce told you his name was.

"Bucky. Or James, whichever you prefer kid."

"Oh okay. What are hugs Bucky?"

"Well I'm hugging you right now. You hug people ti show your emotions. Like comfort, thankfulness, happiness, love. It's what friends do."

"Wait wait wait. You never had a hug before?? Like ever????" a new voice boomed. It sounded genuine but way too loud. You flinched instinctively and hid your face in Bucky's shoulder. He tightened his hold on you for comfort.

"Can you be any louder Thor? And no she was practically raised in hydra, they don't exactly hug around." Bucky said.

"I am sorry, lady Y/N. For frightening you, and for my inappropriate question. I am Thor Odinson." he said coming closer to you.

"It's okay Mr. Thor. I'm Y/N Y/LN, nice to meet you." you said shyly.

"Oh it's lovely meeting you too. I came here because brother Stark asked me to ask you if our presence is wished upon now."

"Huh, what do you think, doll? Ready to meet 'em now? No pressure." Bucky quietly asked, only for you to hear.

You tought about it for a second, but if everyone is nice as three you already met, you'd like to meet them all. And with quiet "okay", Bucky nodded to Thor and he left to call the others in.

That night you layed in your bed, thinking of that day's events. You met everyone, since no one had missions assigned. They were all really nice to you. Even Loki, which surprised every avenger. You were not sure why tho, Loki was nice, and his voice was comforting. The Maximoff twins were really funny, and Tony already started making you your own room! Everyone else you've met was aweosme: Natasha, Clint, Steve, Sam and Rhodey. Peter was shy but nice, he promised to show you some good movies and he was belivered when you said you don't know what those are.

Bucky was still you favorite. He stayed the longest, promising to come and visit you first thing in the morning. You hoped he'll hug you again, you were quite fond of hugs now.

Few months passed since avengers saved you. Life couldn't be better at this point. You were home schooling, or rather preparing to go to real school next year. Peter already introduced you to his friends from school you are going to attend. You were training to become an avenger, and it was so exciting.

You were currently having breakfast tho, sitting in between Sam and Bucky who were bickering about one thing or other. Tony was dancing funnily while making pancakes, while Nat was trying to throw as many blueberries as possible at him. You heard Clint somewhere in wents above you, probably setting up a prank. You smiled to yourself. Even though you never knew love, or had a family until two months prior, avengers accepted you. They were slowly becoming your family, and you couldn't imagine your life without them. ;)

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matildashoney · 3 years

Text

𝐓𝐢𝐧𝐲 𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 // 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐅𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ~ 𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 ~ 𝐆𝐈𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀'𝐒 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆 ~ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝐭𝐚𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @doubtfulwelshie, @meetmymouth, @theluketomypatterson, @morethanamelodyy, @hoodhoran, @nevertoooldtodancelikeamaniac, @rainbowparadiseharry, @glitterandharry, @summertimestyles, @millenial-teenybopper, @6616617228, @burberryharold, @jesusidontcare1

.・゜゜・ Harry .・゜゜・　

Step left. Duck. Step right. Punch.

Step left. Block. Step right. Go for the gold.

The freedom of releasing bottled up anger loomed over Harry’s head, stimulating his need to showcase his overt power. Punch after punch after punch, delivered to his opponent's body and face, fueling the anguish he felt in his veins and the fury in his brain.

“Okay! Harry, that’s enough!” a voice calls, but, naturally, Harry doesn’t listen. His ears are ringing, deafening anything outside of his own mind. Not that he can hear his own thoughts anyway as he blows hit after hit at Ryan, imagining it’s someone else he’s beating up instead.

His heart is racing as fast as his mind is swirling, his breaths shortening as his arms continue their relentless action on Dear Ryan, who can do nothing but just take it. “Harry!”

Then, there was the numbness. He felt arms tug him back forcefully, landing Harry right on his ass as he came to, his chest heaving up and down rapidly. Harry blinked once, then twice, then three times before taking a look around him. Mack, his trainer, was standing over him, a look of anger mixed with concern etched over his features as he gestured to the man laying flat on his back, spitting blood out of his mouth.

Only for a moment, remorse coursed through Harry’s body, because the last he remembered, they were both standing. It wasn’t the first time he’s lost control of his rage, and he was sorry that Ryan had to deal with the consequences of that, but at the same time, Harry didn’t give a single shit because it was Ryan’s job to play punching bag.

“Do you wanna explain this?” Mack questions, helping Ryan up so he can go take a breather and get a look at his nose from the doctor. “Fuck, Harry, any more and you could’ve done serious damage to the poor kid.”

Harry hoisted himself up, rolling his eyes as he tugged his gloves off his hands. “Do you want me to win tonight? I sort of need to punch the shit out of people to do that.”

Mack stares at Harry with a cross look before scoffing, shaking his head as he places his hands on his hips, looking down to his feet. “Look, you need to get over her, H. All your focus is on Stella, but I need your focus on your job. That’s the most important thing.”

Technically if he’s focused on Stella, he’s better at his job, but Harry didn’t have the energy to start a fight over something ridiculous. Instead, Harry opted for a poisonous glare and bit his bottom lip to hold back any venom he easily could’ve spit out, walking past his trainer and making sure to bump shoulders along the way.

Mack has always been anti-relationships.

Mack advised it from the start, when Harry signed up for his gym and kick started his career in boxing. “No dating. It’s not forbidden, but trust me, Harry, you don’t need them on your mind when you’re in the ring.” Harry never had to worry about that before, because dating wasn’t really his thing to begin with.

Until her. Until Stella.

Harry decided he was done for the day, needing to rest up until his match that night. Not that he’d be resting much anyway, but he needed to get out of the gym for a bit, needed to clear his head.

Grey steel doors to the men’s locker room are no match for Harry’s unhinged anger, banging loudly against the wall behind it as they were forcefully swung open with a push from his hand. The few men in there jumped back a bit, heads immediately turning to the cause of disturbance.

Harry paid them no mind as he walked over to his locker, opening the lock and then swinging that door open too, causing it to bang into the one next to it. Despite the anger he released back in the ring, he still had enough resonating in his veins as he thought of her and as he thought of him. But immediately, as he glanced at the door of his locker, all anger dissipated for a couple fleeting moments as he stared at the filmstrip taped to the metal, the smile on her face, the smile on his face. All was better then. All was better when she was by his side.

His Stella. Stella for star.

Sitting down on the bench behind him, Harry ran his battered hands over his face and then through his hair as he tried to stop thinking of her. But then the image of her smile taunted him, enticed him, tricked him into giving her another moment of his time. The pain in his chest and the pain in his head grew stronger as his thoughts spiraled, bringing up memories he tried so hard to push to the back of his head.

Even when he was in the ring, thinking of his match later on, Harry couldn’t stop from thinking about her. He couldn’t stop his heart from sinking into his stomach at the thought of her face not being in the crowd cheering him on. He couldn’t bear it, knowing his Lucky Star wasn’t going to be there for him.

That’s when all shades of red began swarming his sight, because she wouldn’t be front row, but instead with that fucking character she calls a duet partner. Then Ryan’s face morphed into his. Harry couldn’t stop himself.

Shit, how he wished he could get his hands on that jackass.

Harry nearly broke the wood holding him up from how tight his grip was on it, but, then one glance at her and his strength fell apart.

And so did Harry’s mind.

He wasn’t sure how long he had been staring at her picture on his locker door, but when he finally gained back his grip on reality, he grabbed his gym bag and closed the metal, hurrying out of the stuffy room to get home. He ignored Mack’s lingering gaze, keeping his own eyes straight ahead as he stormed out of the building.

Just when Harry thought he could catch a breath, a break, the warm weather outside touched his skin, nearly melting him to the ground.

Harry hated the heat. He much preferred the winter time because it always leveled his hot head, and the sweltering air mixed with his boiling rage never mixed well. Now, Harry was in an even sourer mood. Though, it slightly picked up when he realized the time on his phone.

Crossing the street, Harry began his walk in the opposite direction of home, quickening his pace so as to not miss her. He absolutely dreaded not taking his car to the gym that day. He dreaded it not only for the sweat dripping down his body, but because he had to pass a certain establishment on the shortest route to the studio.

Lucky’s Bar.

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

Harry had a bit of a habit of stopping time whenever he walked into a room. Or at least it felt like he did because despite the loud, rowdy music blaring through the tight bar, and everyone being focused on themselves and who they were with, all heads immediately turned to him when he stepped through the entrance of Lucky’s.

“That never gets old,” Niall nudged Harry in the side, chuckling as people began to whisper to one another, sly-but-not-so-sly fingers pointing in their direction.

It wasn’t always this way. They really only started looking at him after news spread rapidly around campus about his new ... job. Otherwise, no one ever paid enough attention to notice he was in the same room. At first it was strange knowing people were watching his every move, but after a while, he stopped caring.

One thing he learned over the past few months, is that not caring goes a long way.

Harry sat on the bar stool next to Niall, a bored look on his face as the bartender looked a bit starstruck because of who was sitting in front of her. “Two beers please. Bottled,” Niall requested, turning his attention back to his friend. “So, when’s your next match?” he wondered, mindlessly checking his phone as he waited for his girlfriend to text him of her arrival.

Harry thought about it for a second, not even remembering what day of the week it was. “Next Friday, I think. I don’t know, I’ll text you,” Harry shrugged, graciously taking the drink the bartender sat next to him, nodding his head in appreciation before taking his first swig.

They sat idly for some time, not wanting to join the masses standing on the dance floor. They could practically feel the humidity and sweat from the bar. Many girls tried coming over and flirting their ways into getting free drinks, but neither of the boys even blinked in their direction as they laughed over mindless nonsense and awaited Niall’s girlfriend’s arrival.

And Niall’s girlfriend’s friend’s arrival.

A friend that was apparently a very good, a great match for Harry. Usually, Harry denied any setups Niall tried to throw his way, but this time the bloke wouldn’t take no for an answer. Apparently, Niall had a big feeling this one was going to be someone incredibly special.

Then that familiar text tone sounded, alerting them the girls had arrived, but they didn’t need the text to know that. Because - at least to Harry and Niall - time had stopped once again, but not because of Harry, but because of Libby and her friend.

Not that anyone else cared, but the two girls lit up the entire place. Their energy radiated a glow that was unmatched to anyone else in the room, leaving Niall and Harry in awe. Of course, they turned the heads of jerk offs that whistled when they walked by, but their eyes were set on the boys waiting for them.

“Hi, baby,” Libby greeted, quickly kissing Niall on the lips before giving Harry a soft smile and kissing him on the cheek.

The other girl greeted Niall just as happily - minus the kiss on the lips, opting for a hug instead. Her curly hair sat behind her in a low ponytail, a few front strands hanging loosely over her face.

Then, her eyes met Harry’s.

Ever since she walked into Lucky’s, Harry had a hard time keeping his eyes off of her, and now that she was up close and personal, he took the time to really admire her features, her figure, her long legs that seemed to go on for miles.

Before she could introduce herself, Niall clapped Harry on the shoulder, waving his other hand between the two, “Harry, meet Stella.”

Much to his surprise, Stella leaned in for a hug, wrapping her arms around his shoulders in a warm greeting that he never usually received when meeting a girl. Usually, Harry was met with a bat of fake eyelashes and fingers tracing his biceps.

She stepped back after a few moments, a kind smile stretched over her lips. “You must be the boxer.”

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

Harry stands in front of the bar for a moment, thinking back to all the times he sat on the wooden stools with his girl and their friends and drank to celebrate the winning of another match. Of course, yeah, he’s been back since then, and he’s been back with his friends since then, but it’s not the same without his hand intertwined with hers and the feeling that he had when walking in with her tucked under his arm. Harry used to soak in the stares and the jealous whispers of other men and women when they walked in together, to know that he was the luckiest man alive, in those moments. His Stella, his Lucky Star, at his side, and yet he was the lucky one.

Harry knew Stella liked the attention a little bit, too, as much as she hated to admit it. Stella liked knowing that her man was the champion, the star, the winner. Stella liked seeing Harry win. That’s why she was at every match, every single one.

That feels like a lifetime ago, and it was barely a year ago. One year ago, when Harry royally fucked himself over with her and his world flipped upside down.

.・゜゜・ Stella .・゜゜・

Aerial. Tombé. Pas de bourrée. Pirouette. Calypso. Aerial. Tombé. Pas de bourrée. Pirouette. Calypso. Aerial. Tombé. Pas de bourrée. Pirouette. Calypso. Aerial. Tombé. Pas de bourrée. Pirouette. Calypso.

That’s what Stella Smalls is going to do over and over until she can get it perfect. Until there’s not a hiccup or a side step or a misplaced toe or fingertip in sight, completing the perfect combination from her fingertips to her toes. That’s what Stella has to do, to be known as one of the best dancers in the world.

“God damnit,” she grumbles, wiping the sweat on her forehead on her hand and brushing her bangs away from her skin, heaving out a heavy breath and leaning over her knees, taking a minute to catch her breath. Her legs ache with how much she’s been practicing, and she’s happy to have the night off.

“Come on, Stella,” she says to herself, psyching herself into repeating the combination a few times more. “Come on. This isn’t child’s play. This is the biggest competition you’ll ever do.”

Her words seemingly do the trick, the ache in her thighs and feet suddenly disappearing and fading into the background of her mind, her only focus going to the specific point in this song where this combination would play out to the perfect rhythm if she does it correctly. Her favorite song is playing over the speakers, the building bridge and chorus resounding through the mirror-lined studio, waiting for her to try and try again. Her song choice is making it all the more difficult to focus, especially with knowing who is across the street, and how much this song is about him, as well.

It wasn’t their song, for the short two years they were together, that was something else, something a bit too hard to touch. Their song, “Undeniable You”, the song they danced to at two in the morning in her tiny kitchen and the song they played in the car on their way to the gym and the studio and the song they played when they were making love into the early hours of the night. That was their song and it was untouchable, their song that she truly couldn't use as her competition piece for the World Title.

Stella hadn’t originally wanted to do the song that she’s currently dancing to. That wasn’t her intention, especially not fresh after their parting ways and it was raw, so raw. However, when her instructor heard the song and was approving the World Title submission under her studio’s name, she suggested that she channel her emotions that she was feeling towards the song into choreography. Stella was competing for a world title under her studio’s name. Could she really say no?

Nearly a year later, with the competition only three months away, River Daniels and Stella Smalls are practicing their duet for the world title to a song that she once associated with a man she was in love with, is in love with.

“Love,” Angie calls through the studio, walking into the quaint room with light bamboo flooring and three long barres hooked onto the walls amongst the mirrors, staring at the young girl with concern etched into her features, “maybe you should take a break. You’ve been here since eight, this morning.”

“What time is it, now? Have somewhere to be around three.” Stella wonders curiously, oblivious to how long she’s been at the studio and been working. Muscles ache inside her body, her feet crying out for a breather, and yet she keeps pushing, keeps forcing herself to repeat the combination until she finds it perfectly aligned with the rhythm of the song.

“It’s nearly two, Stella,” Angie says assuredly, sounding nearly disappointed in the way Stella has been pushing herself since she found out who her competition was for the title, and the stakes that are at large, waiting for her.

Should they win, Stella and River will go on a world tour with nearly a dozen other dancers, doing master classes and teaching young dancers the way to the title, and the money that would be split between the two of them would allow for her to finally open her own studio in town.

There’s this empty building that she has been eyeing for nearly five years, dreaming that one day it would be the studio of her dreams. There is space for three different rooms, three studios within one, and there are a multitude of opportunities waiting for her in this space if she just had the money. “The Lucky Star Academy”, she would name it, after the one that always told her that she would be the best studio owner in town. He wasn’t that clever for giving her the name.

Stella’s name does mean “star”, after all.

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

Harry’s knuckles were all bloodied and cut, the skin tearing and ripping at the base of his hand after rubbing against his gloves after he stupidly forgot to wrap his hands before the match. Typically, Stella reminds him, but today, she was in her head, worrying about the bank’s call and the meeting she had with the loan advisor and the conversation she had with her mother regarding how much she would offer as a loan until her business started and took off like everyone knew - or had a feeling - it would, and Harry was worried about comforting his girlfriend, to the point where they had to call him out of the locker room to make sure he was ready for the match. Stella was worried that he would lose the match because of how much worrying he was doing for her, but of course, Harry being Harry, won within the first ten minutes in the ring.

“Stell, the bank is going to approve you,” Harry said too surely for Stella’s liking when they were back in the locker room, cleaning his knuckles. “If not, like I said, I could give you the money. It’s not a big deal.” Stella glares at Harry for that secondary comment. “Okay, it’s a big deal, but I can loan you the money, Lovey. I’m not hoarding all this to myself. Makes sense to share it with the ones I love, does it not?”

“It does, but I don’t want to start my business by owing you money, Harry,” Stella says frustratedly, wiping the blood from his hands and kissing the skin of his knuckles sweetly. Stella was always the most gentle soul with Harry, even when he didn’t necessarily deserve it, and he cherished the way she loves him, the way she cares. “My studio can’t start that way. It’s just, I can’t.”

“Name it after what I call you, at least. Let me contribute the name, Stella Bella.” Harry grins so widely Stella can feel her heart giving out and falling into his hands, like it always does. “My Lucky Star. Maybe you’ll be somebody else’s, too. Mine first, always, though.”

“First and foremost,” she says, shaking her head at the nickname, one of many of what her boyfriend has called her over the years, and sighs deeply, laying the flannel on the sink beside her and letting his hands fall to her waist, holding her between his legs and kissing her shoulder, “you’ll always have me as your lucky star, the one and only.” Harry’s dimpled grin makes her stomach flutter with butterflies. “Secondly, ‘The Lucky Star Academy’, I like the sound of that.” Harry smiles wider, this time, leaning upwards and kissing her jaw. “Has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”

“Very nice ring to it,” Harry agrees, brushing her hair behind her ear and holding her chin between his fingertips, kissing her sweetly, deeply, smirking when she pushes his shoulder lightly and takes a step away. “Come on, lovey. One more kiss before you leave me.”

“I’m not leaving you,” she says matter-of-factly, shaking her head and nodding towards where the door is swinging open with men walking in and out. “I’m leaving the room for you to get changed, you stink.”

“Come shower with me,” he whispers, standing on his feet and bringing her into his chest, the clamminess of his skin sticking to her fingertips as she lays her hands against his abdomen. “Not like any of these blokes actually shower here, anyways.”

“Girl in a locker room disappears into the showers and Harry Styles is nowhere to be seen,” Stella scoffs, shaking her head adamantly and brushing his hair away from his forehead, the floppy tendrils of his hair falling to his sweaty skin. “Very likely that everyone will know what’s happening.”

“Stella Smalls,” Harry says warningly, clicking his tongue and grabbing her face between his hands, “don’t ever call yourself just a girl, ever again. Hear me? Much more than a girl to me.”

“All right, all right,” she concedes, pecking his lips quickly and walking towards the locker, grabbing all his belongings and shoving the clothes that need to be washed in the tote bag he brings to every match. “Go shower, I’m tired and want to go home.”

“I’ll shower faster if my Lucky Star comes with me,” Harry teases, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively and walking towards the showers in the corner of the locker room. “Come on, Stell. One time.” Stella sighs, looking between the phone, where she is impatiently waiting for a phone call, her belongings, and her sweaty boyfriend standing all too enticingly at the edge of the tile flooring. Stella begrudgingly sets their things in the locker, oblivious to the buzzing that’s vibrating from her phone, and hurries to Harry across the locker room floor, smirking as he says, “That’s my girl. My Stella.”

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

Knocking on the studio door pulls Stella out of her trance, again, the song playing over and over again in her head with tears in her eyes as she forces a smile to the familiar man in the window. River is standing at the glass window, watching his partner perfect the leap combination for their routine without saying a word. Her knees are bruised and tainted a purplish-blue color that looks like it hurts like hell, and River silently reminds himself to schedule a day to practice even more to be on her level of dedication. River smiles at Stella softly, opening his arms and bringing her in close, hugging her tightly and humming contently as her arms tighten around his midsection and return the embrace.

“Looks great, Stella,” River smiles excitedly, wiping a bit of sweat from his forehead and taking a step away, looking at her face and taking in the distracted glances she’s making towards the window to the outside. “Harry’s coming, isn’t he? Walks you home from the gym and all that.”

“Always on Saturdays,” Stella says shyly, almost slightly embarrassed by how much she looks forward to the weekly walk with her best friend, which happens to also be her ex-boyfriend, the person she’s choreographing this routine about. “It’s our only time to really talk, you know? Alone, at least. He’s so busy during the week, I’m busy teaching. It’s not going to distract me, River, I promise.”

“You say that, Stella,” he says concernedly, shaking his head and clicking his tongue, shrugging his shoulders slightly at the thought of the two getting back together when he’s started to develop feelings for her beyond their partnership and friendship. “There’s already chemistry there, though. That’s hard to deny when you see the way he looks at you, the way he looks at me when I’m with you. Like he wants me removed from the planet or something.”

Stella knows that Harry wants River removed from her life, completely. He doesn’t need to say anything for that to be abundantly clear. That doesn’t mean she’ll say that, though. “Oh, c’mon, Riv, it’s not that bad. He’s not that cruel.”

“If Harry knew that I liked you in any capacity, which is not me saying that I do,” River says with his hands held in the air in surrender, “I would be pummeled into bits. You know it as well as I do, Stella.” River says this surely, quirking his eyebrows at his friend and cocking his head to the side knowingly, shrugging his shoulders when she crosses her arms in front of her chest defensively and sighs. “Not your fault he’s protective of you, Stella. It’s not your fault he’s in love with you.”

“Harry isn’t in love with me. Not anymore, at least.”

“I don’t think that’s true.” River shrugs his shoulders, “Hell, what do I know, though?” He takes Stella’s hand and twirls her beneath his arm, smiling brightly when she laughs and falls into his arms, hugging him tightly. “Practice tomorrow?”

“Of course, yeah,” she says with a bright smile, leaning onto her toes and kissing his cheek, her eyes rolling slightly when she sees her ex-boyfriend nearly foaming at the mouth outside the studio at the sight. Harry tries to hide it, Stella knows this, and that’s why she never says anything when she sees his facial expressions change or the way his hands clenched into fists when he sees River with his hand on Stella’s back as they leave the studio. “Come to the fight, tonight. It’ll be fun to have everyone there. This is his last match before the International Rounds.” River nods silently and opens the door for Stella to walk through, Harry immediately grabs her hand and pulls her into a warm hug. “Hi, Harry.”

.・゜゜・Harry .・゜゜・

With old memories rehashing in his mind - which brought him the most happiness he’s felt in a while - Harry for fucking sure wasn’t expecting to see that slime-ball hugging his girl, replacing those memories with the anger he thought he suppressed, for now, at least.

Harry knew his face contorted into a deep scowl, burning red as he saw the interaction happening before him, and he couldn’t help his knuckles turning white from his fists clenching insanely tight. He knew how furious he looked. Hell, he knew how crazy he looked, but that didn’t stop him from tugging her away from her partner the moment they walked outside.

Harry wraps his arms around Stella’s shoulders, pulling her close to him, but keeping his eyes on River. “Hi, Harry,” she murmured into his chest, before she pulled herself away and looked up at him. For the first time in those fifteen seconds, he diverted his attention away from him and looked at his girl, a smirk lining his features.

“Hello, lovey.” And, spitefully - arguably, without a single care - he leans down and places his own kiss to her opposite cheek. As soon as Harry stood back up to his full height, he could see in Stella’s eyes that she was pleading for him to not cause a scene. He decided to respect her wishes, this time, but that didn’t stop the threatening glare he sent River’s way. “C’mon, let’s get you home. Think I can take a nap there?”

Stella looked over her shoulder at her dance partner, giving him an apologetic look. She knew he wasn’t nearly as scared of Harry, as Harry would like to think, but that didn’t stop her from being worried. River waved her off unapologetically, saying, “I’ll see you, tonight.”

Harry’s head quickly snapped to look at Stella, eyes widening and mouth falling agape from his words. He, too, looked over his shoulder, then, just to see the man getting in his car and then speeding off down the road. Harry was confused. He was baffled. And of course, he was angry.

What does that mean?

As far as Harry knows, they see each other for practice during the week, for tech rehearsals, and for the performances, but never for anything else. Stella and River were only dance partners, not friends. That’s right, isn’t it?

That’s when his greatest fear started coming to life. The realization hit. Harry could lose Stella, for good.

Harry stopped in his tracks, no matter how badly he wanted to get out from under the blazing sun. Stella stopped, too, confused as to why he was just standing there. “What’s wrong?”

The real question was: What isn’t wrong?

“What did he mean by that?” Harry hissed, bringing his bottom lip into his mouth, biting down harshly on it, but surprisingly, not drawing any blood. Harry knows that they aren’t officially together, and no matter how much, how badly that eats him alive, he knows that she has free reign to be with whoever she wants. Stella’s his Lucky Star, though, and, truth be told, he doesn’t think he can ever be without her in some capacity, for as long as he’s still breathing, as long as he’s on this planet. And, truthfully, it pains him to think that she would want to be with anyone that isn’t him.

Sometimes, Harry wonders if she feels the same way.

“By what?” she asked by raising her eyebrows, confused as to what he was talking about. Then, seeing Harry biting on his lip with an excruciating grip, seeing the anger bubble back inside of him, Stella put two and two together, and figured out that he was talking about what her partner had said. “Oh, seeing me tonight? Oh my God, Harry.” Stella started laughing at this, beginning her walk, again, to her apartment.

Harry was stunned for a quick moment before he followed after her, falling into step with her. He kept his eyes locked on her, watching her shake her head and and keep her eyes trained on her squeaky clean, white shoes. “What?”

“He’s coming to the fight.”

Harry was tempted to stop walking, again, but knew she wouldn’t stop this time, and would probably leave him behind. “No, he isn’t,” Harry responded, completely dumbfounded to the idea of Stella bringing up his fight, and then going the extra mile to invite her dance partner to it. He didn’t understand why she would even think of doing that, because she knows he doesn’t like him. It’s almost as if she enjoys making Harry angry - which could be the only possible explanation for why she invited him.

Stella looked up at him, tilting her head to the side, “Excuse me?”

“He’s not coming to my fight,” Harry scoffed, pressing the button on the crosswalk, waiting for the signal to keep walking.

“Are you being serious right now?” she questioned, crossing her arms over her chest, turning to face him completely as they stood on the corner. Deep down, Stella knew Harry was being serious, but didn’t quite want to believe it. Harry’s always had this possessive hold on her, ever since they started dating. Honestly, when they were together, it was cute, it was funny, even, it stemmed from the love he had for her. Now, though, it’s infuriating, it’s toxic, and it’s painful.

It’s also kind of sad.

After Stella, Harry closed himself off to the world again. He sticks to his same few friends. He doesn’t date. He continues to revolve his world around Stella. Constantly. Stella’s trying to grow, and move on, but he makes it impossible for her, because, truthfully, Harry has no one else. It’s sad, but it’s also insanely frustrating. “First of all, it’s a public event, so technically, River’s more than welcome to be there. Secondly, I’m not your girlfriend, H. I haven’t been your girlfriend for over a year. And Harry, you need to get that through your head, because I’m tired of telling you.”

Clicking of the cross-walk sign began, signaling it was time to start walking, again, which Stella happily did as Harry once again found himself stuck in place. This wasn’t how he imagined his day to go, and he certainly didn’t want to keep talking on the topic, but he couldn’t stop himself. It’s like a vicious cycle of trying to prove that she still wants him in some capacity, that she would choose him over someone else, even though she’s proven time and time again that she doesn’t, that she wouldn’t. Stella is over Harry, and Harry refuses to accept that.

Harry allowed a few moments of silence between them, a comfortable silence as they walked on towards her apartment, letting her think she had gotten the better end of the argument. Then, Harry continued. “Has he got a ticket?”

Stella sighed, “What?”

“For the fight. Did he buy a ticket? Or are you gonna use my name to get him in?” Harry’s association is the way she and any of his friends ever get in without paying. Tickets always sell insanely fast, near instantaneously, so Harry doubts River actually has one to get in. He knows Stella is going to get him in, and Harry’s lucky to have the upper-hand in the situation, because he can easily make it where there’s a specific guest-list - one that doesn’t have him on it. “I’ll tell the guard to blacklist him, Stell. He’s not coming.”

Stella rolled her lips into her mouth, fighting off the urge to spit venom that could put a wrench into whatever this relationship of theirs was. She didn’t want to continue moving backwards, but Harry made it really, very difficult to push forward. Stella shrugged, keeping her eyes ahead of her, “Fine, then neither am I.”

Stella only ever went to his fights because Harry asked her to, not because she had any actual desire to be there. Having to watch her once-boyfriend get punched in the face was never a sight she could fully stomach, and if his unwillingness to see her friend was this strong, then it only gave her motive not to go.

Harry opened the door to her apartment building once she put the code in, allowing her to enter first. Quite frankly, he doesn’t care if she doesn’t want him to follow, because he does anyway. The idea of Stella not being there for his fight deepens the pit in the bottom of his stomach, and thickens his fear of losing her.

It’s like this: when Stella is there, Harry knows he’s gonna win, when Stella’s not there, that familiar feeling isn’t in Harry’s gut, and all he feels is uncertainty. Harry can feel the victory gliding through his veins when he steps into the ring, seeing her front row, clapping and whistling and rooting for him. Calling her his Lucky Star started off as an inside joke, simply because of the meaning of her name and where they first met. After she started coming to his fights, though, Lucky Star became quite literal, and he can’t go without her.

“Of course you are. I need you there.”

And when they finally got to her front door, Stella inserted her key and unlocked it, but didn’t enter right away, confusing Harry. Stella stood there, facing him, his hand on the door nearly blockading her against the small wooden door, a small smile on her lips. “Okay. Then, River comes. He goes, I go.”

Harry and Stella held a staring contest for what felt like minutes, neither of them willing to back down - both, with the eye contact and the argument that hangs over them like a dark, miserable cloud. Finally, Harry sighed, closing his eyes and dropping his head so his chin hit against his chest. He was in no position to keep fighting her, especially if continuing meant jeopardizing her attendance, tonight, in particular.

His favorite smile, a full smile broke out onto Stella’s face, and she couldn’t help reaching up to kiss him on the cheek. Twisting the golden doorknob, she allowed them both into her home. “Did you still wanna take that nap?”

Harry rolled his eyes, stepping inside and shrugging off his tee shirt before the door could even fully shut. “I’ll be on the couch if you need me.”

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

Fifteen minutes until showtime. Fifteen minutes and Stella still wasn’t there.

Harry left her with plenty of time to get ready and to get her friend to come with her. He left her apartment nearly thirty minutes before they had to be at the gym, giving her enough time to get dressed - she was never one for makeup, if she wasn’t on stage - and make her way to the gym long before the match would start. Stella should be here, by now. She’s always early.

Harry was nervous, but not because of his fight - because there was no sign of Stella. Mack has tried to get his mind off of her, but he was basically talking to a wall as Harry kept pacing around the locker room, clenching and unclenching his fists.

“She’ll be here, H,” Libby tried reassuring him again, but like Mack, she was ignored. After Harry left Stella’s apartment around four, that was the last time he saw or heard from her. Usually, she would send him a text that she’s on her way, but he’s received nothing. The only reason Harry could think of why this is happening, is because of that prick of a dance partner. Harry always drove Stella himself, before their separation, and afterwards, she always sent a text when she was coming.

Now, the one time River decides to tag-along, there’s no word from her. If Harry didn’t hate him already, he certainly does now.

Niall offered Harry a beer, which he greatly accepted, gulping it down in seconds before crushing the metal of the can in his palm. Then, the locker room door swung open, and a frenzied Stella walked in with a sheepish look on her face.

“Sorry, sorry, I’m sorry, there was a crowd outside that was impossible to get through,” Stella rushed out, coming straight over to Harry and engulfing him in a hug, knowing he must’ve been worried, ignoring the concerned looks on their friends’ and her friend’s faces. Stella was cutting it close to when Harry had to get out there, and she just blamed it entirely on the traffic and drunk crowd of old men, and she knew that wasn’t going to stick with Harry.

“Great! Stella’s here, now. Can you fucking sit down?” Mack hissed, rubbing his temples as he could feel his headache fading away. Stella shyly pulled away from Harry, ignoring Mack’s hardened stare, and made her way over to her friends, greeting them in her usual manner before snagging her own beer from the cooler; and when she pulled out another, that’s when Harry realized the leech that was in the room, too.

Taking a deep breath, in through his nose and out through his mouth, Harry did all he could to ignore River’s existence. He had to remain civil for Stella’s sake. That was the condition of her being there, after all.

“Stell, you didn’t text me,” Harry spoke up, gaining back her attention.

Stella looked at him with a furrow in her brow before patting her jean pockets and then reaching into her small purse hanging off her arm. “Shit, I forgot my phone back at my place. I’m sorry,” she apologized, only then realizing that she completely forgot her phone and, therefore, forgot to text Harry and confirm her appearance, like she usually did. Stella stepped closer to Harry, lowering her voice so that only he could hear. “I told you I was gonna be here, though.”

Harry looked down at his shoes, biting his lip, biting back his words. Harry wanted to tell Stella he was nervous that she wasn’t gonna show, wanted to tell her that he was worried, wanted to tell her so much. Instead, Harry reached over to the bench where his duffle bag was, pulling out his gloves and offering them to her. “Can you put my gloves on for me?”

It was a bit of a tradition for Stella to put Harry’s gloves on his hands. As if her being there wasn’t enough luck, this action was also a tiny good luck token that Harry always needed before he went out. Stella hesitated for a brief second, not knowing if this was actually a good thing. There was essentially no harm in it, but knowing his reasoning - that it was for good luck, she is his good luck - kind of felt like a punch to her gut. Of course, though, she reached for them anyway, slipping one and then the other on his fists before tightening the straps and knocking the fists together.

“Good luck, H,” she murmured, giving his right and left fist a little kiss, before dropping his hands all together.

The little kiss sent a shock through Harry’s spine, because that was something she never did before. A wide smirk formed on his lips, his nerves completely vanishing as confidence swarmed his veins. He stood back up to his full height, saying, “Don’t need it now that you’re here,” just loud enough for her friend to hear on the other side of the room.

“Alright, let’s go!” Mack shouts from the locker room door, holding out Harry’s robe and guard for his mouth.

Harry’s black robe was slipped over his frame as they all walked out of the locker room and into the hall. The bass-driven music was pounding throughout the venue, eliciting a roar from the crowd, because the fun was about to begin. The announcer could be heard, hyping up the audience as he waited for the cue that opponents arrived to their positions.

Niall, Libby, Stella, and River separated from Harry and Mack, making their way towards their reserved seats in the front row. Harry was barely paying attention to whatever Mack was telling him, bouncing up and down on the balls of his feet and cracking his neck as they waited.

Then his name was called. And everything became a blur.

The crowd erupted, he walked to the ring, Mack put his mouth guard in for him, and then the familiar bell of the match sounded. His opponent was no bigger than he was, which was good for him because it called for an easy win. The guy managed to get a few good moves in, delivering a hard right hook straight to Harry’s jaw. All he could see was black for a couple of seconds, but once he regained his composure, the first thing he saw was River’s arm wrapped around Stella’s shoulder.

She was motionless as she watched Harry, hands clasped together and under her chin as she hoped for him to win. It was like she didn’t even notice his arm was on her, and Harry can’t decide if that makes it worse.

The anger from earlier today at the gym, and from picking Stella up, and from Stella being late boiled back inside of him. The look on his face was a deadly one as he spat on the ring floor, raising his fists back in the air, ready to strike. His opponent looked terrified for a quick second, but he too raised his fists, nowhere near ready to give up.

Harry won.

Scary part is, he doesn’t even remember it.

One moment he’s standing there, the next his arm is being raised in victory as the referee declares him winner. His breathing is heavy, his heart is beating rapidly, and his body is drenched in sweat. He feels hot and disgusting, so he walks over to Mack in the corner, who’s waiting with a towel for Harry to spit his mouthguard on to.

He receives compliments left and right as he makes his way backstage, but he practically ignores them all as he searches for the only one that matters. Her face pops up within seconds out of the crowd, and then she’s making her way towards Harry, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, not caring about the sweat and the stickiness of his skin. “Knew you’d win.”

“I always do when you’re here,” he hums, pecking her cheek and shrugging his shoulders, leaving one arm slung around her, raising his eyebrows in a cocky manner, basically saying I never lose. Stella hums in response, shaking her head at the cockiness, before needing to find the nearest bathroom, stating she’ll be back in a few minutes.

Niall and Libby didn’t stay for long after the fight, so all that was left was Harry and River. Alone. Alone, while Stella was in the bathroom. Harry tried really hard to ignore him, but being alone fueled the fire in his mind, and couldn’t help himself. “What do y’think you’re doing?”

River was surprised at this, because as far as he knew, he wasn’t doing anything. “Excuse me?”

Harry scoffed, unraveling the tape on his hands, clenching his jaw as he looked up. “Never seen you two so … close, before.”

River shoved his hands in his pockets, shrugging his shoulders. If he was supposed to feel intimidated by Harry, he wasn’t. Who Stella decided to be around was her own decision, and it wasn’t any of Harry’s business what their personal relationship was. Not that it was anything more than friends, Harry didn’t need to know that. “Well, someone has to be there for her. Y’know, after all the pain you caused.”

After all the pain you caused. Harry swallowed at the thought. Their breakup weighs heavy on him, and not a day goes by where he doesn’t think about the pain he caused, the pain that ensued afterwards. He knows he hurt her badly, and he’s not so sure anything could ever make up for what he did, but knowing that others know he hurt her made him feel uneasy. The worst part of it all? Knowing that he wasn’t the one she cried to, confided in, needed support from.

River was, any of her friends were, but not Harry.

He gripped the bench he was on, mulling over the idea of Stella seeking River out to talk about her relationship problems, and praying Stella would come back quickly before he does something he regrets. Before he could say anything back, River made the decision to keep egging him on, leaning his back against the wall by the door. “Harry, you gotta let her go, mate. I think we both know this will always end badly between the both of you. ”

Harry stood up from his seat, stalking across the room, ending up right in front of River, barely a foot of space between them. Harry doesn’t like the way he says his name, venom and distaste found in every syllable, almost as though she could never see it. “You don’t know shit about Stella and I.”

“Don’t I? I know a lot more than you think, Harry Styles. If you love Stella, you’d stay away from her,” he spat back, narrowing his eyes into slits, taking his hands out of the pockets of his jeans.

Harry wishes it was that easy. If Harry could physically stay away, he would. She doesn’t deserve the trouble he brings and he most certainly doesn’t deserve her. Love isn’t that easy, though. It can’t be that easy. Stella’s his girl. There’s no one else for him. He can’t let her go.

“You’re bad for her. Can’t you see that?”

And just like that, Harry’s fist came in contact with River’s cheek. The dancer’s body was thrown off his arrogant balance, nearly toppling over onto the floor from the brute impact. Harry gripped the back of his shirt, throwing his back against the wall he was just perched on, taking hold of his jaw so he had nowhere else to look but at him. Harry tilted his head to the side a bit, leaning in just a bit closer so his hushed words could be heard, just between them two.

“You’re gonna go. Stella is my girl, and I won’t go down without a fight - which we both know you’ll lose. So you’re gonna leave her alone, got it?” Harry hissed, tightening his hold on River’s jaw, which any tighter, he could probably break.

River wasn’t happy, that much was evident, but he knew when to give up. Harry was a force he had no time or effort to reckon with, so unwillingly, he nodded his head. His face was dropped, and Harry stepped back, clapping him on the shoulder with a condescending smile as he pointed towards the door to the locker room. Holding his tender face, River gave Harry one last middle finger before walking out.

Harry let out a sigh of relief, knocking his head back so he was facing the ceiling. The deep pit that had been nestled into his gut all day finally vanished, and he finally felt at peace. He could finally get the idea of Stella with anyone else out of his head and maybe, just maybe, get their relationship back on track to what it used to be. For that to happen, though, Harry needed Stella to fully trust him again, and he was still struggling with how to gain her forgiveness. Because anyone that knew Stella knew that she could hold a grudge.

He didn’t get much time to think about it though, because after a million years, Stella finally came back from the bathroom. “I swear, I just don’t think today’s my day. I went into one stall and it didn’t have toilet paper, and the next one didn’t either, and ... Hey, where’s River?” she suddenly wondered, stopping mid-ramble to look around the room, seeing it was just Harry in there.

“Said summat about not feeling good, left a couple minutes ago. I’ll drive you home,” Harry disclosed, tugging his clean clothes out of his bag so he could go take a shower quick before they left.

“Oh, that’s odd. He seemed fine before. I hope he’s better for rehearsals tomorrow,” she spoke worriedly, making a mental note to text him when she gets home. They only had three months until the competition, and they haven’t really performed the dance together yet. They’re already on a time crunch, so him being sick really didn’t help their case.

The whole time they were alone together after Harry’s shower, not a single word was exchanged between them. It wasn’t a necessarily awkward tension between them, but it wasn’t the most comfortable either. The journey across the parking lot to Harry’s car was silent, and then the car ride was only filled with the quiet lull of the music on the radio.

When they arrived outside her building, Harry put the car in park, but Stella didn’t jump to get out just yet. She played with the ring on her finger - that actually used to be Harry’s, gnawing at her bottom lip gently. She was pulled out of her thoughts when Harry placed his hand on her thigh and smiled slightly, and Stella knows exactly what Harry’s going to say. It’s the same every week, every match.

“Thank you for coming.”

Stella glanced up at him, pulling a small smile across her lips, slowly nodding her head. For some reason, she could feel tears and anguish building up inside of her, causing her to look away quickly as she reached for her purse on the floor between her feet. She placed her hand on the door handle, ready to pull on it before turning back around to face him for one last time in the night. “Congratulations, H. I’ll see you soon.”

Then she was gone, and that unmistakable pit in Harry’s stomach resurfaced.

.・゜゜・ Stella .・゜゜・

Stella can see her anger. That’s all she can see at this moment. Bright red. Burning anger. Fueling rage. Usually, Stella knows how to channel her anger, to calm herself and bring herself back to Earth and level herself out without making a scene. However, right now, Stella absolutely cannot. All of her rage is targeted at one person, one person that she swore she’d never take the time to be this angry at ever again.

Harry.

Stella hasn’t been this angry since she and Harry broke up over a year ago, since the moment she stepped on the stage and realized that the one person that she wanted to be there wasn’t there at all. Stella hasn’t been this angry since Harry blamed it on oversleeping and forgetting, since he lied to her face and tried to win her back with broken promises and empty words. Stella hasn’t been this angry ever in her life, and it’s beginning to make her skin hot and her face sweat with the rush of it all.

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

“What do you mean you’re through?” Harry asks angrily as he begins pacing around the bedroom that he and Stella practically share at his apartment. Stella’s old place was nearly empty by the time they were dating for six months and she was about to sign the final paperwork to end her lease and move in permanently with him. “Are you breaking up with me?”

“That’s exactly what I’m doing,” Stella says harshly, shaking her head and sucking back tears that are threatening to fall. Stella can’t cry. Not right now. Harry can’t see how broken she is over this, over everything.

“Is this because I missed the performance? Is that what all this is about?”

Stella sets her clothes in the suitcase and looks at Harry with tears in her eyes, biting back a laugh and sucking in a deep breath, one singular tear falling down her cheek as she stares at him. Harry looks broken, as if someone’s dug a knife into his chest and twisted at the seams. In a way, Stella is glad he feels this way, this hurt, this pained, because maybe, just maybe, Harry would understand how she felt to win and be completely alone, without the one person that she wanted there.

Stella’s mind goes back to the memory of the competition, of how she felt.

Stella stepped onto the stage with nothing but joy and pride in her eyes. Stella’s first national title was about to be won as long as she scores high enough, and that would mean she would be one step closer to earning the money to open her own studio. Her mother, Luna, is in the audience, Harry’s mother and sister, all of their friends are there ready to cheer her on. Harry should be there, his flight landed nearly an hour ago, and he said he was going to come right there to watch her. Harry promised that much.

Stella performed her very best, danced the best she’s ever done, earned a standing ovation from the audience and the judges and a perfect score on her sheets. Angie hugged her tightly as she came off the stage, River shortly behind, her eyes looking expectantly out in the crowd to see her family and friends and searching rather impatiently for the one person that she wanted there the most. Harry wasn’t there. Harry wasn’t there at all.

“Of course, that’s what this is about, Harry! Are you dense?” Stella shouts without meaning to, frustration lacing her voice and making it nearly impossible to keep level headed. “You missed the most important competition of my career. For what? Because you overslept? Because you didn’t want to fly?”

“Stella.”

“Wait, were you sleeping with that one girl? What’s her name? Molly? The one that’s been following you around to all your matches, lately?” Stella seemingly has made up her mind before Harry’s even opened his mouth to respond. “That’s it, isn’t it?”

“No, Stella. I have never and would never cheat on you,” Harry says sternly, shaking his head and taking a cautious step forward, his chin dropping to his chest when Stella takes a step away from him. “Don’t believe me, that’s fair, but I swear to you, I never cheated. I overslept. I got lazy and missed my flight. I didn’t think it was that big of a deal.”

“God, Harry, grow up! You’re such a fucking hypocrite!”

“I’m not a hypocrite,” Harry grits through his teeth, shaking his head and cracking his knuckles, clenching and unclenching his fists to try and gain control of his anger. He always had a bit of a temper.

“How would you feel if I missed one of your matches? One of your biggest matches, because I was too tired from dance and from work and didn’t want to get on a flight.”

“I would understand, Stella,” Harry lies, trying desperately to soften his eyes and make her believe him. He wasn’t trying to manipulate her into staying, per se, but he certainly wouldn’t admit that he would be furious at her, that he wouldn’t take an apology and would likely need a few days to cool off from how angry he would be. “Maybe I wouldn’t understand, I would be angry. I wouldn’t break up with you, though.”

“No, Harry, you’d just give me the silent treatment until I begged you to come home and apologized for days,” Stella says confidently, anger lacing every word that she’s spitting out and making him all the more able to see that he won’t be winning this argument any time soon. “I know you, Harry Styles. I know you better than anyone, and I know how angry you’d be at me. Harry, you wouldn’t speak to me for days if I missed a match. And yet, you can miss my biggest competition, which I won, by the way, and try to get away with it scott free, without any repercussions. It doesn’t work like that, Harry. Life doesn’t work that way. Just because you’re good looking and a good boxer doesn’t mean you can just get away with anything!”

“I’m not trying to get away with it, Stella. I said I’m sorry!” Harry booms, his voice travelling around the bedroom and echoing in her ears, the velocity of his voice against the thin walls making sure their neighbors must’ve heard everything. Stella, frankly, doesn’t care at this moment. All Stella cares about is getting the hell away from Harry Styles. “Stella, please don’t go. I need you. You’re my lucky charm. I’ll fuck up if you’re not there.”

“That’s it? That’s why you want me to stay - because I’m good luck?” Stella asks astonishedly, shaking her head and zipping her suitcase even faster than she originally planned on it. Stella thought about making things dramatic, dragging it out slowly and surely, but of course Harry had to go and say something absolutely ridiculous to make her even more angry. Harry doesn’t know how to watch his mouth. “Fuck you, Harry.”

“Stella, I love you,” Harry says as a final plea, taking her wrist in his strong grip and turning her around, forcing her to look into his eyes. Stella’s expression is lifeless and cold, her honey eyes darkened and worn with anger. Harry doesn’t recognize this Stella, he doesn’t recognize her at all. This isn’t his Lucky Charm, his Stella Bella, his Stella. This isn’t his girl. This woman hates him. Hates him a lot. “Stella, I’m so fucking sorry. I love you. I want you because I love you. I don’t care about the stupid, bloody fights.” Stella looks at Harry knowingly. “Okay, I care a little bit. It’s how I pay for my life. It’s my job, Stella. I was tired, and I thought it wouldn’t matter if I missed one competition. I wasn’t thinking. That was wrong of me. I’m sorry. Please forgive me.”

“Harry, you need to grow up. I would do anything for you, quite literally anything, and you couldn’t even get on a plane to see me perform on the biggest stage I’ve ever performed on, for a national title, for me. I lied to your family for you. I lied to my family for you. I lied to our friends. I told everyone your flight got delayed and you were watching the livestream. I won’t do that again. I won’t lie to the people I care about for you, ever again. I’m not going to put myself in that situation,” Stella says sternly, shaking her head and yanking her wrist away from Harry’s grasp. “Maybe one day we’ll make it work, but you need to grow up. Harry, you’re jealous and immature and you think the world revolves around you. News flash, it fucking doesn’t.”

“My world doesn’t revolve around me, Stella,” Harry shouts as Stella begins walking out the door. “It revolves around you! Everything I do is for you, Stella.”

Stella looks at Harry longingly, as if she wishes that the words were enough to make her stay. “If your world revolved around me, Harry, then you would’ve been there, and I wouldn’t be walking out the door, right now.”

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

Knocking on Stella’s door came early, a bright seven in the morning with the sun freshly risen, a few hours before she was meant to meet River at the studio. They were meant to rehearse for a few hours at the studio, before Stella would go to the gym and meet Harry for his training for the match that was in a few week’s time. That Stella knew. That was all in Stella’s mind as she wrapped a robe around her figure and hurried to the front door where the knocking was incessant and repetitive.

This, though. This, Stella had no idea about.

Stella opened the door, dazed and confused by River’s appearance, hurrying him inside and making a cup of coffee for them both. River had a bruise the size of a fist on his cheek, and a scrape along his forehead that makes it seem like he was smacked into the ground.

Immediately, Stella knew. Stella Smalls instantly knew who the culprit was and why it was happening. It made her furious. Harry always had a bit of a temper, a bit of a jealousy issue when they were together, but it was never anything that she couldn’t handle by herself. This, though, was too much.

“Look Stella, I love you. I love you as my friend,” River says softly, taking a sip of the coffee she’s set in front of him apologetically and running his finger around the rim. “I love you as a dancer, I love you as a partner, I do. I don’t want you to think that I don’t.”

“River,” Stella says hesitantly, knowing exactly where he’s going with his sentence, going exactly where she doesn’t want him to go. This could ruin her life, her chances at winning the title, of opening her own studio this year. This could ruin everything. All because of Harry.

“I can’t be your partner anymore, Stella.” There, River said it. Stella knew that was going to be it, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t sting like a bitch. “Can’t be your partner, Stella, not if you’re going to be friends with Harry and he’s going to be around all the time. Harry is, quite frankly, Harry is a mess to deal with and a temper and a lot. Know that it’s not fair to make you choose, and I don’t plan on making you choose.” River is too good for Stella. Way too good. “I think you need to do this piece as a solo act for the world title. Stella, it’s so good. It really is. You’re going to perform it wonderfully on stage.”

“Except you can’t do it with me,” she says, toying with the rings on her fingers and clenching her knuckles together into fists, fighting the urge to smack her hand against the marble counter.

“Right,” he says regretfully, dipping his head to his chest and letting the air puff out between his lips. “I’m so sorry, Stella.”

“I, um, I think I need to be alone,” Stella sighs, saying every word with regret and shame and anger, sadness lacing every syllable. “I don’t understand, not really, but I’ll try to. Honestly, though, I just want to be alone, right now.”

River simply nods quietly and stands from the barstool at her kitchen counter, walking towards the entryway of her apartment and opening the front door. “I’ll see you at the studio?”

“Mhm,” she hums without saying a word, discontentedly drawing a circle around the rim of her mug and not daring to look away from the ceramic cup in her hands.

“Bye, Stella,” River says as he walks out the front door, regret and sadness lacing his voice. Stella wants to punch him in the other eye for feeling pity for her. He should’ve been stronger, acted tougher, not let Harry get to him. Maybe Harry should’ve left him alone. “I’m sorry.”

Her head slowly nods and her eyes stay cast on the marble counter that she’s leaning on. Stella doesn’t want River to see her cry. Angry cry, that is.

All of Stella’s anger is channeled towards Harry. All of it. Every ounce. There is not one bone in her body that isn’t infuriated with Harry Styles, that wants to punch him in the face and yell until her cheeks turn blue. Harry ruined her chance at the World Title by doing this. He’s ruined her chance at opening her own studio. He’s ruined it.

Harry is at the gym, that’s easy to know. He always is. This calms Stella, knowing exactly where to go and what to do. Maybe not what to say, but that will come with her anger as she ruminates in the frustration. Stella wipes her tears from her cheeks, readies herself for the day - which includes wearing one of his training shirts and jeans and trainers - and hurries along to the gym down the street, rushing inside and bursting through the doors to see the man of the hour, pummeling away at a free-standing punching bag, sweat dripping down his forehead.

“Harry Styles,” Stella shouts, walking in and commanding the attention of everyone in the room. “Harry Edward Styles!”

“H,” Mack says, ripping an earphone from Harry’s ear and nodding towards where his ex-girlfriend is angrily walking towards them, hands balled into fists. “Got a visitor. An angry one.”

“Stell, what are you doing here so early?” Harry wonders confusedly, brushing his hair away from his forehead and sucking in a deep breath, slowly taking the gloves off his fists and tucking them under his arm. “Are you okay?”

“Am I okay?” Stella scoffs, throwing her head back in a thick and pained laugh and lifting her hands in the air with a smack to her thighs. “Am I okay? River quit today. Quit the whole fucking routine. All because someone made one too many threats about being with me.”

“Have no idea what you’re talking about,” Harry shrugs, walking away and pushing the door into the Men’s Locker Room open, waiting for the yelling to diminish, especially considering how many people were staring in the center of the gym. He reaches his locker, ignoring the calling of his name behind him and opens his locker, shoving his gloves and mouth guard into the metal container and taking a towel and wiping the sweat clinging to his forehead. His hand slams against the locker next to him, causing a banging sound to resound through the quaint space.

“Don’t walk away from me, Harry,” Stella shouts from outside the locker room door, waiting rather impatiently for him to exit, and when he doesn’t in a near thirty seconds, she’s storming inside after him, ignoring the calls and squeamish shouts from the grown men changing in the midst of the room. “Fuck, Harry, you’re such an asshole, you know that! Making my partner quit on me, three months before my competition!”

“Awfully cozy with someone that’s just your partner, Stella,” Harry says sarcastically, drawing out every syllable and taking a step away from the locker, and standing with his hands on his hips as he stares at her, taking in the beauty that she gives off so effortlessly. “Not to mention, I didn’t make him quit. I simply said that he needed to take a step back. Coming to my fights with you. Kissing you. Making a show with you. That’s not what a partner does.”

“Harry, I’m not your girl anymore! I’m not someone you get to be jealous over and fight over! Get that through your thick head!” she screams angrily, huffing a breath and ignoring the stares that she’s receiving as the remainder of the men in the locker room leave the two to argue quietly.

Harry cracks open his locker and reaches for his water, his eyes falling to the photographs that are still stuck on the inside of the metal door. “Of course, that’s what you think, Stella, but, you’ll always be my girl.”

Harry can’t shut the locker door before Stella sees the photostrip, the three photographs of the two of them from their anniversary two years ago. “Is that?” Her eyes well with tears at the thought, the photographs that she searched high and low for after their breakup to try and hide away with all of the other things that she saved in a wooden box beneath her bed, all the photographs and memories that she wanted to keep for the day they, maybe, got back together like she had thought about, at first. “Have you kept them all this time?”

“Not like you were going to want them anymore,” Harry says spitefully, slamming his locker shut and walking towards where she is, setting his hands on either side of the locker that she’s standing against and holding her between his arms. “Not like you wanted me anymore.”

“Harry, don’t,” she says sadly, slinking beneath his arms and walking towards the locker, turning his birthday in the pin and opening the combination, her hands reaching for the photostrip and running her fingers along the tattered photographs, reminiscing sweetly on the memory. “Did you know I looked everywhere for these? I wanted them.”

“Wanted them for what, Stella? To what? Throw out?” Harry is angry, clenching his hands into fists and getting ready to take the photograph out of her hands before she can take them and run away with them. That’s the last thing that he has of Stella that isn’t broken and shoved in a bin beneath his mattress. That’s the last thing he has left of when his Lucky Star was his.

“No,” Stella sniffles, wiping her eyes and sticking the photograph back on the metal wall of the locker door. “I wanted to keep it for when we got back together, you prick. I thought, I thought we’d get back together. I didn’t think we’d stay apart.”

“Don’t say that if you don’t mean it, Stella,” Harry warns, stepping around the bench separating them and leaning one hand on the locker next to Stella’s head, her thumbs tracing over the photographs where she’s hiding in his neck laughing and he’s holding her tightly, the one where they’re kissing and smiling and they look happy, because they were. Harry and Stella were so happy together. Harry softens looking at the tears on her cheeks, and cautiously leans forward to wipe a stray tear from her skin. “Stella Grace, look at me.”

Cautiously, Stella lifts her head and meets Harry’s stare, his intense green eyes staring back at her longingly and - dare she say - lovingly, his thumb going under her chin and holding her face to his. “What, Harry? I’m not sure what else you could possibly want from me. Especially now, when I have no duet partner and the World Title is only three months away. You’ve royally fucked me over, Harry.”

“I am so sorry, Stella. I didn’t think River would quit.” Stella looks at Harry knowingly, threateningly, as if to say, I will leave if you don’t tell me the truth, and that whips Harry into shape. Harry can’t let her leave. This is selfish of him, of course it is. Harry loves Stella. Love can be selfish sometimes. Can’t it? “Okay, well, I hoped he would. I wasn’t thinking about you, though. That was selfish of me. I’m sorry. I love you, Stella. I act selfish and stupid when I think about you with someone else. It makes me do crazy things. Stupid things. Tell me what I have to do to make it right, Stella.”

Stella thinks for a minute, really contemplating all that Harry has said and how she feels and the emotions that are rushing through her in that moment, everything feeling a bit too much and like she needs to break away and find herself in the studio dancing over and over until she can make sense of everything. That’s what Stella does - Stella dances to make sense of everything. That’s when it hits her.

“Dance with me.”

“Huh?” Harry chokes out, shaking his head immediately and wondering how in the hell Stella came up with that as what he needed to do to win her over. “Stella.”

“Harry, you need to dance with me, or you need to leave me alone. That’s it.”

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