#i would have let it go until the chorus but there's not much footage of him in dd and i wanted to keep it primarily related to this game so | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

randomshyperson · 3 years

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Love is Outside the Screen - Part III - Elizabeth Olsen x Reader

Summary: The one where Reader plays Vision in the MCU and she falls in love with her co-worker Elizabeth Olsen.

Warnings: (+18), smut, sexual themes, strap on use, teasing, fingering, sexual suggestions, explicit language, explicit, obscenity, a bit of praise kink, dom/sub dynamics, bottom reader mostly, switch dynamics, power dynamic changes, slight possessive sex, brief angst, alcohol mentions, arguing, jealously, fluffy.

Words: 7.935 K

A/N> Instead of writing my series, I'm continuing works that were finished already. This is basically porn honestly haha No, but jokes aside, we have fluffy moments with a lot of smut. Good reading everyone!

Part One | Part Two | All Works Masterlist || AO3

//-//-/////-///-//

Love is Outside the Screen - Part III

Northern Ireland, two years ago.

You slipped under the long wooden table as the script indicated.

Your character was supposed to give a slight nod, and then gasp because of the torso injury, and you followed the script perfectly.

When the director yells cut, you stand up, trying not to bump into the makeover they did on your clothes.

"That was great, guys!" Shouted Alex Graves in the direction of the cast scattered around the medieval set. "Let's call it a day."

You were exhausted.

The Game of Thrones footage was absolutely grueling, and time-consuming, although it allowed you to learn something new with almost every scene.

Walking back toward the dressing room to clean up your makeup, you smiled shyly at the girls in the salon who congratulated you on the day's performance while helping you to remove your costume.

While they were going through your hair, you decided to check your cell phone.

There were two missed calls from Lizzie, and you felt your heart swell with guilt immediately.

She had also sent you messages asking if everything was okay, or if you were busy, and saying that she missed you, and you wish you had answered them all, but your routine had been completely absurd.

You felt your chest ache with longing every time you thought of your girlfriend.

When you signed the contract, you knew the conditions, and so did Lizzie. But nothing prepared you for the real thing.

Almost three months without a decent conversation, not even video calls, and the lack of her in your life was making you frustrated and irritated all the time. You were sinking into the screenplay and the recordings, because you simply hated not having Lizzie in your day-to-day life.

"Thank you girls." You said as soon as you noticed the makeup completely removed from your abdomen.

The change in the script killed your character sooner than expected, and you should go home early, even though it was going to take two or three months, it was much less than originally planned.

Grumbling softly, you went back to the dressing room, deciding to call Lizzie now that you would have a little time alone.

She doesn't answer until the second-to-last ring.

"Yes?" Her husky voice signals that she was asleep, but all you can feel is your body shaking at the sound.

"It's me, baby." You reply tenderly as you sit back in the armchair, pressing the cell phone to your ear as if you wish you could reach into the device and touch your girl.

"Oh, hey." She comments sleepily, and you wonder if she has closed her eyes again, or even opened them. "It's late."

"I know, I'm sorry." You say leaning back in the armchair. "I wanted to check that everything was okay because I couldn't answer you earlier."

"Don't worry, darling." She says softly, almost sleepily. "I just missed you."

"Me too, my love." You assure her, feeling your chest tighten slightly. My god, you just want to see her, hold her, touch her. "Lizzie, darling, are you asleep?"

"Yes." She whispers, making you smile.

"I love you baby." You say. "Call me when you wake up, I will interrupt as many scenes as it takes to talk to you."

"Behave yourself in the studio, love." She mumbles sleepily, and you laugh lightly. It was the same warning she gave on your last day in California, on the way out of the airport. "I love you. And I miss you."

You cursed the entire movie company at once when you could perceive the upset in Lizzie's tone, even in her sleepy state. You repeated that you loved her one more time before hanging up the phone.

As you put your cell phone away to grab your keys and head back to the hotel, you wondered if a breach of contract was really so bad.

//-//

Present, California.

You felt Lizzie's arms wrap around you as soon as you made mention of getting out of bed. You smiled, turning your body to look at her.

Her sleeping figure with her eyes closed, her hair slightly tousled made your heart warm with affection.

You loved her so much.

Raising your hand to her face, you stroked her cheek gently with your thumb, and watched the woman sigh softly, and even in her sleepy state, lean into your touch.

"Lizzie." You called softly, trying to wake her up. And did so again until she mumbled softly, leaning her face against the pillow. You let your hand wander to her hair, enjoying the softness as you stroked her scalp with your fingers. "We need to wake up baby."

Lizzie just mumbled again against the pillow cotton, making you smile at the cuteness of that scene.

You moved closer only to deposit short kisses across her face, and only stopped when she let out a husky giggle.

"Good morning, love." You whispered against her ear, and were about to pull away, but she tightened her arms around your waist, keeping you almost on top of her, making you smile.

"Good morning." She sighed back against the skin of your neck, and you blushed slightly when you felt her inhale your perfume and then tighten her fingers around your waist. "Fuck, I love you."

You laughed softly at her sudden, hoarse confession, but let your arms slip around her shoulders, burying your body against Lizzie's. The tenderness was wonderful, and she moved one hand up to caress your back while the other remained on your hip, her thumb moving across the skin beneath your blouse.

You tilt your face away just to look at her, and already you find her with her eyes wide open, a shy smile on her lips.

"I love you too, babe, but we need to get up." You tell her, and you almost get the impression that she's not even listening, because all she does is look at your face with adoration.

You bite back a smile as you feel her legs move beneath you, her bare foot caressing your ankle before she spins you around quickly and stands over you, the sudden movement making you sigh and tighten your arms intertwined around her neck.

"Lizzie!" You exclaim humorously, but all you get is a low murmur as she sinks her body against yours and buries her face in your neck.

"How much time do we have?" She asks against your skin, her lips dangling on that sensitive part of your collarbone and sending a shiver up the length of your spine.

"Enough." You reply already affected by her touch, closing your eyes to enjoy the sensation.

Lizzie smiles against your neck, beginning to deposit chaste kisses against your skin, making you sigh softly.

It didn't matter how many times you had been together or for how long, your body reacted to her in the same way. You only hoped that you wouldn't be late for your appointment with the Marvel directors, but when Lizzie slipped her hand up into your pajamas, you didn't care about that anymore.

//-//-//

London, 1 year and 9 months ago.

It's your third time on "The Graham Norton Show."

You finished taping Game of Thrones the day before, and this was your last appointment before returning to California. To Lizzie.

Part of the cast is sitting next to you, and you are glad for that because you are distracted this evening and can use the time they answer questions to think about your girlfriend. And you miss her for sure.

Graham, the host, asked questions about the final season, and about day to day life on set, and after Kit Harington and Emilia Clarke commented on everything being amazing, and not telling anything about the plot since they weren't allowed to, you were slightly surprised that the subject shift went directly to the romance rumors between the cast.

"I hear that some of you have been becoming close friends outside the set." Graham begins with a chuckle, and you and the cast share a chorus of dissatisfaction that makes the audience laugh. "Which is normal in a long series of course. But we wanted to bring that in because we love gossip."

"Since I'm married, can I have a drink in the dressing room?" Kit jokes, drawing laughter from everyone.

"You're supposed to help us with the arguments". Graham replies humorously. He leans back in his chair slightly to point to the monitor behind him. "We have some behind-the-scenes photos here. And Miss Clarke looks very comfortable."

The audience laughed at the comment, and you tried to cover it up with an awkward laugh. It was a picture of Emilia Clarke, your colleague who plays Daenerys Targaryen, on your lap. But the moment was badly misinterpreted. The photo was taken right after one of the prom rehearsal scenes, and Emilia had gotten one of the coordinations wrong, and you laughed when she fell on you.

Of course, this kind of insinuation was happening because to the media, you two were two single women. And you were used to this kind of questioning, but still, it was always uncomfortable.

"We were dancing, Graham." Emilia argues humorously. "It's not what it looks like."

The audience lets out a chorus of disappointment, and you and Emilia giggle awkwardly.

"Was that the mating dance, ladies?" Graham teases and you want to dig a hole in the ground, but all you do is keep up with everyone's laughter. "Despite all the jokes, I think Marvel's couple is going to be threatened."

The comment makes your heart race, but the audience is very approving, applauding heartily.

At least with this you can talk about Elizabeth.

"Is tonight the night you are going to take over America's dream relationship or can we just keep saying that you and Emilia are together, since there is not the slightest chance that someone that attractive is single." Graham tells you with humor making the audience and cast laugh. You try to keep up, not wanting to seem rude. You wish you could tell him that there is nothing wrong with being single, but you don't think you want to create an awkwardness so you just settle back in your seat as you joke:

"Unfortunately I will deny it again, Graham" You reply. "And I'm not dating Emilia either, I assure you."

You spend the rest of the evening dodging the comments, and are exhausted by the time the interview is over.

"Hey, are you going back to the hotel already?" Kit asks you just as you walk back to the dressing rooms, and you deny it with your head.

"No chance, I'm leaving." You reply. "I'm going straight to the airport, I have a flight in two hours. What about you, Harington? Aren't you going home to see your wife?"

"I didn't know we were talking about wives." He jokes making you blush and look away. Kit didn't know about Lizzie, but he knew you had someone. "Of course I want to come home, but I still have some appointments here. And Rose is in Spain."

"That sucks, man." You comment and he murmurs in agreement, shrugging.

"Yeah, but longing sure makes the sex better." He retorts with amusement and you grimace before laughing.

"You're unbelievable." You joke before waving yourself off in farewell, turning in the direction of your dressing room.

As soon as you enter, you take your cell phone out of your pocket and try to call Lizzie, but it goes to voicemail. You leave a message saying that you can't wait to see her and get your things ready to leave.

After saying goodbye to the cast again, and taking a taxi to the airport, you receive a message, but it is not from Lizzie.

*Sara evil agent* sent you an attachment.

You frown at the matter. "Off-screen romance? Would GOT star Emilia Clarke be dating queer Marvel protégé?"

You call Sara the same minute.

"I literally said I wasn't dating her!" You complain as soon as she answers and hear Sara laugh on the other end.

"Oh, honey, I told you, the media loves a little gossip." She says. "And you need to stop setting up fake girlfriends so quickly, I can barely keep up."

You grumble in irritation and your agent lets out a giggle.

"Don't be so grumpy, it's just a rumor and the last time I checked you were a single woman so I don't see a problem." She says and you bite the inside of your cheek. Since your lack of excitement about GOT, Sara suspects something. Neither of you says anything, but you know she's not an idiot and figures you have a girlfriend. "Are you going back to LA already?"

"Yes, I'm catching my flight in an hour."

"I hope you're ready to record, Lady Vision." She jokes. "Your scene schedule is getting closer."

"I plan to rest this week." You warn, slightly distracted. "Game of Thrones really was something different."

"I just hope people like the ending."

You giggle and Sara wants to know why, but you don't give her any spoilers. After asking if everything was okay, and assuring her that you had eaten something before the interview, you hang up.

Lizzie didn't text you back and you fell asleep on the plane.

//-//-//-//-//

California, three years and eleven months ago.

Your heart was beating so fast that you could hear it in your ears.

But Lizzie's hand in yours was doing a good job of calming you down.

Maybe it was just because you had waited, or maybe it was because you were so much in love, but you don't remember feeling so nervous about the idea of having sex with someone. Not since your first time.

And well, now with Lizzie, it was actually only the first time you two were going to sleep together. You didn't have to be nervous, but you were.

Liz opened the bedroom door as soon as you two reached the room, and dragged you inside with her. You closed the wood as you entered.

The tension was palpable in the air, and you wondered if you stayed still long enough, she might hear your heartbeat.

You looked at her, your eyes locked on each other, and a shy smile on your lips as you approached, stopping inches from her body.

Lizzie holds her breath.

"Are you nervous?" You ask in a husky voice, raising your free hand to go around the length of her arm with your finger, admiring the way her skin shivers at your touch.

She just shakes her head and you smile, resting your hand on her cheek.

"It's just me." You comment as you lean your forehead against hers, and you both close your eyes in anticipation. "We can stop if you're not sure..."

"I'm sure." She interrupts half breathlessly, her hand tightening its grip before letting go of yours, so that she brings both hands to the sides of your neck. "Are you sure?"

"Yes." You assure before breaking the distance, bringing your mouths together in a firm kiss that draws a sigh from both of you as your hands move up to Lizzie's waist.

It doesn't take long for the kiss to deepen, your tongues fighting together and the sensation making your head spin and your body heat up.

Lizzie gasped against your mouth before parting for breath, and you used the opportunity to let your fingers run down to the hem of her shirt as you pulled it up. In motion the piece was off, and she copied the same to remove your blouse.

You bit your lip as you looked at the sight of Lizzie's exposed torso in front of you, her nipples hardening in the air making you feel the tightness beneath your stomach increase.

You lunged forward, grabbing her left breast with your mouth, and Lizzie let out a loud noise in her throat, throwing her head back as your tongue skirted her left nipple.

She was so hot and smelled so good, and the sounds she was making were driving you insane.

You moved your hands up to her breasts as soon as you brought your mouths together again, your tongue circling hers as you played with her hardened nipples, and it wasn't long before Lizzie began to whimper, closing her legs and thrusting her hips towards yours for more friction.

You smiled against her lips, you would give her exactly what she needed.

//-//

California, one year and nine months ago.

Leaving your keys on the counter, you were surprised by the silence as you entered.

It wasn't that you wanted Lizzie to stay late to wait for you, except that it was exactly what you wanted.

You left your bag on the living room floor and called her name twice before assuming she was asleep.

Sighing slightly, you went up the stairs to your room, but it was empty. All the other rooms were empty, which made you frown.

Okay, you didn't expect Elizabeth not to be home just the day you were returning, after months of not seeing each other.

But you didn't have much time to think about what might have happened, because a clearly drunk Lizzie stumbled into the house, fighting against the lock and her own balance just as you were coming down the stairs.

"You're drunk?" You ask in a voice in a mixed tone of disbelief and concern upon seeing her, and Lizzie is startled for a moment before giggling.

"Look who's here, California!" She announced to the room with irony and with open arms, stumbling inside. "Hollywood's most eligible bachelorette, watch out ladies and gentlemen."

You frowned at the little scene, Lizzie walked with difficulty to the kitchen as you finished going down the steps, she murmured quietly and you with your arms crossed, trying to understand exactly what was going on.

"What happened to you?" you ask as you follow her across the room, Lizzie takes off her shoes with difficulty, almost falling to the floor at least twice. When you make mention of helping her, she holds up her hand for you not to, and you are starting to get worried.

"I went to have fun." She replies with a humorless laugh. "I can have fun."

"Of course you can." You retorted with a raised eyebrow, watching Lizzie take a deep breath and close her eyes as she leaned her back on the countertop, probably getting a headache from the way she buried her face in both hands for a moment. "Who did you go with?"

"I don't know, Mom." She sneered wryly, and you clenched your jaw. Lizzie laughed at your expression, and pouted. "Oh, did I upset you? Sorry, darling, I'll try to be a good girl for you."

You shook your head slightly.

"Babe, what is happ..."

"Don't call me that." She cuts off quickly and you look at her in surprise. Lizzie closes her eyes and takes a deep breath and when she looks at you again, she has thick tears in her eyes and you feel your heart soar. "I saw the pictures on television, Y/N. I saw the pictures, I saw your interview, I saw the videos on instagram. And I guess I understand, because she's beautiful and we haven't seen each other in months but I thought you loved me..."

"wow, what are you talking about?" You interrupt, confused and frightened, and Lizzie looks like a complete mess. She is crying and you reach up to touch her face, and try to calm her down. "Babe, breathe, I don't understand."

She whimpers softly, and you wonder how much booze she really has consumed.

"You are going out with that woman and I love you and everything is horrible." She declares in a whiny voice and you look at her with a frown.

"Lizzie, what..."

But she pushes you and walks off toward the bedroom, and you try to keep her from falling over drinking at least three times until she can get up the stairs properly.

"Lizzie, wait, talk to me." You beg but she keeps walking and you enter the bedroom a moment after her, watching her walk to the closet and start throwing all her clothes out while mumbling about cheating.

You take a deep breath with your hands on your waist, letting out a humorless laugh. It was an absurd scene to say the least.

"Elizabeth Olsen, stop this immediately!" You command as soon as she steps out of the closet, and she widens her eyes slightly as she shifts the weight of her feet before veering to the floor. You sigh as you walk toward her. "Babe, look at me."

"No."

"Lizzie."

Reluctantly, she does so. You soften your expression, feeling your heart soar at the image of her face, longing invading your whole heart.

"God, I missed you." You confess half breathlessly and Lizzie looks on the verge of tears. "Darling, where did all this come from? I'm not seeing any other girl."

"I saw the pictures..."

"Lizzie." You interrupt seriously, shaking your head slightly as your hands land on her shoulders. "I have no one but you. I would never cheat on you, I don't know where that came from. I wish you hadn't drunk so much so we could have a serious talk."

Lizzie gives a mischievous little smile, her gaze half lost because of the alcohol.

"I'm not drunk." She mumbles clearly intoxicated, making you chuckle slightly.

"Of course not." You said as you pushed the loose strands of her hair behind her ears. "You made a mess in the bedroom, babe. Why don't you try to sleep while I clean up?"

Lizzie sighed, clearly tired but shaking her head in denial

"I don't want to sleep." She said as she brought her body closer to you, her hands squeezing your shirt. "I want you to fuck me."

You bit back a smile, looking at Lizzie with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh, yeah?"

She murmured in agreement, her fingers trying to open the buttons of your shirt, but she was clearly in no condition to do so.

"I'd like that too, but you're drunk." You say as you move your hands to hold hers, smiling at the grumble of frustration she lets out. "Go lie down, I'll get some water."

"But..."

"Bed, Lizzie." You ordered again as you intertwined your hands to lead her to lie down.

She was reluctant a few times but eventually agreed and lay her down on the mattress, placing the comforter on top.

When you made mention of getting up, she held your hand.

"Don't go." She asked softly with her eyes almost closed. You smiled.

"Aren't you thirsty?"

Lizzie denied and pulled your hand, you moved closer to lie beside her and she wasted no time in entwining her body in yours.

You let your fingers run through her hair and she sighed lightly, not taking long to fall asleep. You waited a few more minutes before moving, getting out of bed as gently as possible so as not to wake her.

After collecting the clothes Lizzie had thrown across the room and putting them away in the closet, as well as putting the party clothes she was wearing in the wash, you went back downstairs, looking for your bag to take to your room.

Your cell phone vibrated as you walked up the stairs.

It was a message from Scarlet, and you laughed lightly as you read its content.

“I heard you're coming home today, right? Lizzie was really upset about the rumors that you were dating, and asked me to take her out for a drink. I dropped her off at home, but she was pretty shaky. I didn't know you two had a thing, can we talk about it over coffee tomorrow?”

You were relieved that Scarlett was the person accompanying Lizzie, but now she knew you two had something. You were tired of it honestly. The secret. All you wanted was for everyone to know how much you loved Lizzie. And judging from recent events, that was a problem for her too. Or at least it was enough for her to drink more than she should.

But you would have to wait until Lizzie woke up to have this conversation, so you went back to your room, and after putting away the clothes from your bag, you took a shower and put on your pajamas, wasting no time in joining Lizzie in bed again.

//-//-//

Caribbean, one year and six months ago.

Following the music, you continued to dance slowly, your hand around Lizzie's waist while the other was entwined in the air with hers.

The luxury hotel where you were staying that week was hosting a Hawaiian themed evening, and well, after spending the day in the pool area, you decided to dance a little.

In that moment, with Lizzie in your arms, you were at peace completely. Moments like these, like waking up with her in your bed, or cooking together, or rehearsing your lines while curled up on the couch under the blanket were more than enough to make you sure that you wanted to spend the rest of your life with Lizzie.

You smiled before pulling your body away slightly, just to look at her. And she looked back at you with the same adoration, her cheeks flushing slightly.

You spun her into your arms then, making her laugh as you pulled her back, your hands resting on her neck as your hips swayed to the rhythm of the ukulele of the band playing on the stage.

There were a few other couples around, but you could hardly notice anyone but Lizzie.

You continued dancing, and you rested your forehead on hers, closing your eyes and breathing in her perfume. Lizzie smiled, stealing a quick kiss before resting her chin on your shoulder, following the rhythm of the dance.

When the show ends, you follow the crowd in the clapping for a moment before Lizzie entwines your hands and pulls you toward the bar.

"That was fun." She comments with cheeks flushed from the dance, her smile soft as you stand near each other, your hands intertwined as you reach for the menu.

"Dancing with you always is." You retorted charmingly, releasing her hand only to fit it against your waist, drawing a chuckle from Lizzie.

You ended up sharing some drinks and snacks, and you were starting to feel higher with each sip.

Lizzie was in the middle of a joke when you interrupted her.

"Marry me?"

She blinked in surprise, a confused chuckle escaping her lips.

"What?"

Maybe it was the drinking. Probably not, because with the emerald eyes looking so intently, you suddenly felt very sober. Your heart raced too, but you were never more sure of anything than you were now.

"Marry me." You repeat with a confident smile. Lizzie blushes with wide eyes.

"You... Are you serious?" She asks in surprise, and you let out a sigh, moving closer to take her hands and put them down on your racing heart.

"I love you." You tell her with nothing but sincerity. "I want to spend my life with you. I was planning something bigger, perhaps, at your parents' summer house. I would get down on one knee in front of your family and hand over the ring I've been carrying for three months." You confess and watch her look at you in shock. "I've been waiting for the right moment, Lizzie. But I've just realized that every second with you is the right moment. I want you to be my wife. Do you want me to be yours?"

It took a second for her to react, her expression changing from shock to pure happiness, the tears appearing in her eyes and the smile so big it made her eyes small.

"Yes, yes, of course." She replied between one shy laugh and another, moving forward to kiss you over and over again.

You couldn't stop smiling as you kissed her, and you giggled against each other's mouths, pulling apart to embrace each other.

It didn't take long for the people around the bar to notice and start clapping, but you didn't care.

All you were seeing was your future wife.

//-//-//-//

California, 1 year and 9 months ago.

You finished putting the coffee jug on the tray, the last missing item, before carrying it to your room, taking careful steps not to trip over anything on the way.

Lizzie was already awake, but still in bed. The glass of water in her hands and the missing pill on her bedside table indicated that she was already treating her hangover.

"Good morning, darling." You greeted as you entered, walking over to the bed to leave the platter on top of the sheet next to Lizzie.

"You're home." She commented in a mixture of surprise and embarrassment, you just made a noise with your mouth as she sighed, running her hand over her face, probably because of her headache. "When did you get home?"

"Last night." You respond by watching her. "Just before you."

"Sorry." She says moving closer. You gently pull away from her attempt to kiss her lips, and Lizzie frowns. "What?"

"I was worried." You state seriously. Lizzie lets out a sigh, leaning her back against the bed completely. "I thought you were going to pick me up at the airport, but you didn't call. And then I find the house empty. Until you arrived, completely drunk at dawn."

Lizzie crossed her arms, looking away. It was your turn to sigh.

"What's happening, Elizabeth?"

"It 's nothing."

"Elizabeth."

"Stop it." She asks impatiently, turning her face to you again. "Don't call me that."

You just frown in confusion. "It's your name."

"No." She exclaims annoyedly, closing her eyes for a moment. "You only call me Elizabeth when you're angry. And you can't be angry at me because I have the right to go out!"

You watch her stand up, as if running away from the conversation, and you sigh impatiently, massaging your temple with your finger. Lizzie begins to remove her dress, clearly intent on going to take a shower.

"I never said you had no right to go out, Elizabeth." You retort ignoring the annoyed grunt she lets out at you continuing to call her by her full name. "I just think I have the right to ask why after we agreed on something, you changed plans at the last minute and decided to disappear."

"It's funny that you want to demand something from me when you've spent the last few months without giving me any satisfaction of where or who you were with!" She accuses angrily and you grimace in indignation.

"Oh, so it's about my work?" You retort angrily. "The last time I checked we had decided that I was going to record and come home. You said you were fine with that!"

Lizzie gave a humorless laugh, her dress falling to her feet as she worked to remove her bra.

"Well, you know what, I wasn't!" She shouts angrily, throwing the bra angrily into the closet. You need to remember that you are angry with her as you have the vision of her breasts exposed in front of you while she is yelling at you. "I didn't agree to the endless get-togethers with all those sluts around you! And I sure didn't agree with your flushed face on television flirting with Emilia Clarke in front of the whole country!"

You stared at Lizzie in shock, but she just grunted in irritation before turning to go to the bathroom.

"No, I think it's so funny you bring that up, you know, Elizabeth." You spoke aloud as you stood up to follow her. "Because when I said Aubrey Plaza was flirting with you, you told me it was just business. But suddenly, Emilia is something that bothers you!"

"God, this is so different from Aubrey!" she retorts in irritation, finally naked, before stepping into the shower. You were beginning to find it hard to remember why you were fighting now that you had the view of her wet silhouette in the shower stall, as she raised her voice to be heard beyond the sound of the water. "We were supposed to be flirting in the interviews, it was all for the movie. You were just falling all over Emilia for no reason. All those smiles and giggles." She declares angrily, making you bite back a smile. Lizzie naked, angry and jealous was hot as hell.

"I really can't believe we are having this conversation." You complain as you unbutton your pajama shirt. "The most absurd part of it all is you thinking I would have anything with anyone else."

"You say these things but don't live up to them with your actions." She retorts, annoyed. "I wouldn't think anything of it if you didn't flirt with other people!"

"I didn't flirt with anyone!" You return defensively, your blouse finally coming off. Lizzie's annoyed expression almost falters, but she keeps her gaze above your breasts as you take off your pants. "And honestly, none of this would be happening if everyone knew we were dating!"

Lizzie frowns, her anger finally dissipating with your sentence. You step into the shower stall with her, and she looks at you dubiously.

"You...you want to go public?" She asks, studying you as the water falls on her back. You swallow dryly, keeping yourself in front of her.

"Only if you want to."

Lizzie holds out her hand for you to take, and when you do, she pulls you gently until your breasts are almost touching.

"Do you think we're ready for that?" She whispers as your foreheads lean against each other. You sigh as you rest your hands on her waist.

"With you, I'm ready for anything, Lizzie."

She sighs against your lips, her hands moving up to your neck.

"I can't think about that with you naked in front of me." She mumbles before moving forward against his lips.

Kissing shouldn't feel this good.

You slide your tongue over hers a moment later, and you both sigh in need, feeling the effects of so much time apart. Your hands move down to her ass, squeezing the flesh and forcing her against you, and the direct contact of exposed skin makes Lizzie whimper.

You press her against the glass of the shower stall, feeling the shower water against your back as you hold your mouths together in a passionate, hungry kiss.

When air was needed, you ran your kisses down your girlfriend's exposed collarbone, enjoying the way she sighed in anticipation, her hand moving up to the back of your neck to encourage you.

"God, I missed you." You sighed before sucking on the sensitive spot on her collarbone, making Lizzie whimper as she dug her nails into your shoulder.

She pulled your face back to hers, kissing you urgently, and you pressed your body against hers, your hands moving down to her thighs and up so that she entwined her legs around your waist.

The contact of your exposed intimates together made you both gasp in the kiss, but you slid your tongue against hers again, savoring her taste as your hands moved up to her breasts, squeezing and cupping them with a full palm, your fingers playing with her hardened nipples and making Lizzie sigh wetly.

"What is it baby?" you teased when she was unable to keep up the pace of the kiss, throwing her head back as she felt your hands pressing her breasts hard, and Lizzie grunted as she bit her lips to keep from moaning, looking up at you with dark eyes, clearly struggling to keep her expression impassive. You smiled, pressing your hips forward and watching her close her eyes tightly, unable to contain a low moan that escaped her throat. "I want to hear you, baby."

"I'm still mad at you." She declares in an affected voice, and you murmur in understanding, lowering your face to her collarbone, and licking and kissing the skin, making her shiver.

"Is this angry sex, then?" You sneer as you move your hips forward again, the sensation bringing a rising wave of pleasure to both of you. "It doesn't seem like it."

Lizzie sighs impatiently, and puts her legs on the floor, pushing you away by your shoulder.

You are so stunned by the sudden break in contact that you barely have time to absorb her turning off the shower before she pulls you by the hand out of the stall.

You were about to ask what she was going to do, but she pushed you onto the bed, and disappeared into the closet.

"Lizzie?" You called out uncertainty, preparing your apology speech for what exactly you couldn't say. But she walked out next, and the sight made your mouth go dry. "Damn."

Elizabeth was wearing a strap-on, the rubber penis already fitted in the front and ready for use. And from the determined expression on her face, she was more than willing to prove to you that she was pissed.

"Fuck me." You breathed aroused by the view, and Lizzie gave a wry chuckle as she approached the bed.

"Oh, I will." It was her only warning before she broke the distance, kissing you fervently, her tongue exploring your mouth and pulling the air from your lungs, making you see stars.

You let out a low moan, moving your hands up to her waist to pull her to you, but Lizzie pushed your hands away, breaking the kiss and moving one hand up to your neck, squeezing lightly as she made you look at her.

"Knees, ass up." She commanded in a husky voice, her gaze glittering with lust, you bit your lips to keep from moaning again, feeling your pussy pulsate with desire as you obeyed, turning on the bed quickly as Lizzie positioned herself behind you. "I'll teach you not to flirt with other girls."

"I was n-fuck." Your speech turned into an horsy whimper as she suddenly penetrated you with the dildo, you were so wet that she had no problem at all, the toy slipping into your folds with ease, filling you completely. Lizzie chuckled breathlessly, her hands steadying your hips.

"God, you're so hot." She murmured, moving slowly inside you, the action making you clench your fists in the sheets and arch your back, your pussy clenching against the dildo.

"Fuck, Lizzie."

She thrust again, this time hard, her hands squeezing your hips as she went deep inside, making you moan loudly.

Before establishing a rhythm, she leaned against you, her hand coming up to your hair and pulling you back as she brought her mouth to your ear.

"You are mine." She whispered before she thrust hard inside you, making you moan. "Do you understand?"

"Not quite yet, try harder." You teased breathlessly, the pleasure at having the dildo all the way inside you making you half dizzy. Lizzie grunted angrily, this time stroking even harder, making you see stars as you whimpered, your body beginning to tremble.

"Quit being a brat or I'm going to fucking stop." She warned against your ear, thrusting more slowly this time, and you moaned breathlessly, barely able to keep your eyes open.

Lizzie set a slow pace, but thrusting hard as you moaned and whimpered, every time the dildo entered you making you even wetter and aroused, to the point that you were unable to hold back the loud moans, and she giggled.

"Look at you, a horny, begging mess." She sneered against your ear. "You are mine, and only mine."

She whispered, her strokes deep inside you. "I want you to remember that when you flirt with other girls. How good I make you feel."

You whimpered, your pussy clenching against the dildo for more, Lizzie keeping the strokes torturously slow. Seeing your state, she laughed softly, pulling out of you completely.

Before you had time to complain, she turned you over on the bed, spreading your legs as she bent down, thrusting deep inside you. Your moan died against her lips as she kissed you hard, laying against you as she buried the dildo inside you.

You could feel Lizzie everywhere. Her breasts against you, her lips on yours, and it was too much. She thrust hard again, deep and fast as you had your legs around her waist, and her tongue on yours, and you began to tremble in spasms, pleasure spreading throughout your body.

Lizzie smiled against your lips as you lost the ability to respond to the kiss, moaning and whimpering at the closeness of your climax. Her mouth moved down to your neck as she kept up the pace of the thrusts inside you, and your hands tightened around her waist, pulling on her hips for more friction.

It wasn't long before you fell over the edge, the tightness under your belly exploding, the pleasure spreading to the tips of your feet as you moaned against Lizzie's ear, crumbling under her.

As you tried to normalize your breathing after such an intense orgasm, she straightened to look at you, her eyes had adoration in them.

"You did so good." She praised against your lips. "Did you learn your lesson?"

"I did." You replied in a husky voice, taking a deep breath to control the effects of climax.

In one swift motion, you spun you two around on the bed, sighing as you felt the toy move inside you.

"Now you will learn to honor your appointments, Miss Olsen." You warned as your hands moved down to the latches of the strap, removing it as Lizzie bit her lips, looking at you with a mischievous gaze.

You shifted to remove the strap and toss the toy on the floor, returning to sit on Lizzie's lap, your mouth returning to hers immediately.

When she began to move beneath you, you smiled against her lips, pulling away as you rested your forehead against hers and let your fingers play with her wet entrance.

"Use your mouth." She asked breathlessly, her nails digging into your arm.

"My baby wants my mouth?" You teased, moving forward to lick her lips and pulling away with a short laugh when she moaned as she chased your mouth unsuccessfully. You circled her clitoris with your fingers, and Lizzie gasped. "The next time you want to get drunk, at least text me, my love." You warned as you penetrated her with two fingers at once, feeling her hot and slippery, while Lizzie moaned loudly against your mouth. "Do you understand?"

You removed your fingers, playing with her entrance until she nodded frantically, pushing her hips toward your hand. But you laughed lightly, pulling your hand away completely, and leaving her with a confused expression.

"I thought you wanted my mouth." You scoff, already ducking, as Lizzie looks at you expectantly.

"God, you always fuck me so good." Lizzie comments as you kiss her thighs, moving down. You smile against her skin, finally reaching her pussy.

You stare at her before moving forward, your tongue against her clitoris as she sighs with need.

"Don't torture me." She begs breathlessly, her wrists locked on the bed, you smile, lingeringly licking her, and she closes her eyes tightly.

"I won't, my love." You assure her before returning your mouth to her pussy, kissing her entrance before you begin to suck and lick, devouring her with desire.

She moans loudly, letting out affected sighs with each movement of your tongue inside her, and you hold her thighs to keep her open for you as you eat her out.

It doesn't take long for Lizzie to reach her edge, already near the limit from fucking you, but it's still delicious to have her crumbling against your mouth like a weeping mess, her orgasm on your tongue as she screams your name.

You climb your body back up onto her, and kiss her tenderly, unlike anything so far.

Lizzie is trying to control her breathing from the climax, but sighs in satisfaction as she tastes herself on your tongue.

As silence falls over you, you sigh lightly, your hands caressing her face.

"Are we okay, Lizzie?" You ask as you settle down to lie across from each other. She leans into the touch of your hands, as her hands come up to your waist.

"I don't know." She confesses. "But I want us to be."

You smile, using your finger to take a strand of hair from her face and tuck it behind her ear.

"Do you think going public will make us better?"

"I don't want to love you in secret anymore." She says and you feel your heart soar. "Do you understand?"

You smile. "Yes, babe. I feel the same way."

She gives a relieved smile, her gaze passionate. You break the distance, and kiss her gently.

When you break the kiss a moment later, you look quickly at your bodies. "I think we should have this conversation with clothes on." You comment and Lizzie giggles.

"Later. Now I show how much I missed you in my bed." She says before bringing your lips together again.

You certainly wouldn't object to that.

//-//-//

Atlanta, three years ago.

You hesitated at the entrance to the restaurant.

Through the window you could see Lizzie, and all your cast mates, as it was the closing celebration of the WandaVision filming.

You swallowed hard, the object in your pocket suddenly becoming too heavy.

You startled slightly when you felt a hand on your shoulder.

"I guess we're both late, huh?" Kathryn Hahn, your cast mate, remarked gently, putting her car keys away in her pocket clearly having arrived right with you.

You gave her a lopsided smile and she noticed your hesitation, assuming a worried expression.

"Everything okay?" She asked.

You shifted your gaze to the window again, watching Lizzie giggle shyly, her gaze shining slightly. She looked around too, searching, and you knew it was for you.

"Yeah, I just...I was just having a moment of doubt." You say still looking at Lizzie. Kathryn followed your gaze, and smiled, but didn't comment on it.

You sighed, reaching into your pocket and pulling out the object.

"Wow, are you going to...?" Kathryn asked in surprise but you gave a humorless laugh.

"No, I couldn't." You say swallowing dryly, and looking away from the velvet box. "I don't know if I'm ready."

"And when either of us are?" Kat returned, making you smile.

"How did you know you were going to say yes to your husband?" You asked next. Kathryn sighed thoughtfully.

"I didn't." She replied. "There's no way to know until you get asked. But what I did know was that I loved him. And that's what really matters."

You absorbed her words in silence, and then put the box back in your pocket.

"I think she loves me." You say. "That will be enough until I find the right moment."

Kat murmurs in understanding, and then pushes her shoulder against yours lightly.

"Just don't wait too long." She warns with a smile, nodding her head signaling for the two of you to enter the restaurant and join the rest of the team.

When you enter, any thoughts of Lizzie denying your marriage proposal are driven out by the image of her contented smile when she sees you arrive.

//-//-//-//

A/F/N> I'm not even gonna try to say this is the last time i'm continuing this work because at this point, I just know I don't believe my own words anymore haha. Tell me what you think people.

Tag> @imapotatao / @aimezvousbrahms/ @ensorcellme/ @helloalycia || @mionemymind / @abimess / @stephanieromanoff / @yourtaletotell / @tomy5girls / @justagaypanicking / @thegayw1tch / @idek-5 // @myperfectlovepoem // @helloalycia // @ENSORCELLME // @AIMEZVOUSBRAHMS // @drpepperobsessed // @sighsam // @olsensnpm // @sxfwap // @table57 // @madamevirgo // @causeitswhatjesuswouldfreakingdo // @emptysince18x // @xastrydx || @yuhloversxx || @ymzki-haruki || @wouldirunofftheworldsomeday || @lostandsearching || @lezzzbehonesthere || @musicinourlips || @chaekhan || @diaryoflife || @nervoustrack || @aquamarinescarlet || @cristin-rjd || @idamaemann || @fortunatelynerdylight

#elizabeth olsen #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen x yn #Elizabeth Olsen x Reader #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x yn #elizabeth olsen x !bottom reader #dom lizze #dom!elizabeth olsen #avengers imagines #brat reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff imagines #elizabeth olsen smut

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shurisneakers · 3 years

Text

harmless (xiii)

Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader)

Warnings: cursing, frustrated bucky, dramatic reader, smidge of angst, guns, little bit of violence, obnoxious flirting, and kidnapping lol

Word count: 6.2k

A/N: welcome to chaos week >:) this is the first of three updates coming out this week (if i can finish the last one in time). big thank you to my love @no-shit-sherl0ck for the kidnaped!reader idea, and that one anon who suggested the inator that’s used here. i know you wanted to see it in a zoo but i couldn’t really figure out a way to use that so i referenced it a bunch in previous chapters. oh and also @ginevranights for this specific imagery

Previous Part || Series Masterlist

Who the fuck kidnaps a villain in this day and age?

Saturday started normally enough.

Nat kicked Bucky’s ass in training, evening the score to 120 and 120. He blames it on the lack of sleep. She tells him that it’s his fault he stayed up late to binge watch 911 Lone Star.

He still thinks it was worth it.

The team’s sunshines and rainbows that morning. Someone had cooked up a batch of pancakes and fresh orange juice. Someone else burnt the bacon but left to feed his dog before anyone could complain.

Nat opened up the newspaper. Different sections went to different people until Bucky got stuck with the entertainment section. Fun, considering that he doesn’t even recognise half the names. He’d have to pretend to be interested until the next rotation.

He watches the orange juice levitate in front of him from the corner of his eye and just assumes that Wanda’s getting a refill even though she could have just asked him to pass it. He smells the next batch of bacon burning and figures that Clint is back.

Sam’s beside him, annoying him about how long it takes for him to read about which new celebrity relationship just ended and Bucky retaliates by reading even slower. Fuck you.

He’s on his second stack of pancakes absolutely drenched in maple syrup when the doors to the elevator open and Marie steps out, laptop in her hand.

An instant chorus of hello’s and invitations to have some charred bacon resound through the table. She politely declines them with a small smile, instead opening her laptop and placing it in front of Bucky without further ado.

He looks at her questioningly, slowly swallowing whatever was in his mouth.

“An email for you.” She tuts her head towards it. “It has a video attachment of your friend.”

Bucky has plans to not watch the video in front of everyone, given that the content could range anywhere from you reading out fanfiction about him to a deep-fake of him singing a Whitney Houston song.

Both of which you have done before and would do again, without any hesitation.

“Aren’t you gonna watch it?” Wanda asks from across the table.

He slowly shakes his head no, cutting his stack into smaller pieces.

“If what’s in it is real, it’s important,” Marie stresses.

“What’s in it?” he inquires instead, hoping that the team would stop staring at him. If Marie was implying strongly that he needed to watch then something was wrong.

“Just watch it, man.” Sam’s statement has everyone agreeing with him. Bucky can’t refuse now, and if the team makes fun of him for the next month about how he looks good belting Greatest Love of All, he’s going to personally assassinate you.

He clicks on the email, noticing it came from a throwaway address. Probably untraceable, if the cards are played right.

The video opens to grainy footage, which is stupid considering modern technological advancements. If this is one more of your stupid LARPing sessions, it could definitely wait till after lunch.

But, he instantly recognises your silhouette strapped to a chair and suddenly the room feels very cold around him. His hand automatically clutches onto a bead from the bracelet you gave him that still remained tied to his left arm more often than not.

“Speak,” someone commands off camera.

“About what?” You sound annoyed, exasperated even.

“Why you’re here.”

“I’m here because you have unaddressed feelings of childhood insecurity.”

“I warned you to take this seriously.”

Bucky’s eyes widen slightly but his body relaxes the minute he reads the situation.

The team’s crowded around him, he can feel it. His attention remains on the screen in front of him.

“Who even are you sending this to?” You don’t sound the least bit threatened. “My roommate’s not at home but my cat is and I don’t think she’d care.”

”You’ve made a complete joke out of villains everywhere. Fraternising with the enemies, the Avengers,” he spits the name with so much vitriol. “You’ve erased what it’s like to be truly evil. Turned us into a laughing stock.”

“If it takes one person to undermine your whole movement then maybe it wasn’t strong enough to begin with.” You look at someone outside the lens, face scrunching in distaste. “Also your costume’s ugly.”

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., can you trace this voice?” Bucky asks, receiving an immediate confirmation. “Figure out who it is.”

“On it.”

“Tell them. Tell them we are a serious threat and are to be feared.”

"No,” you say resolutely. “You’re an overgrown manchild. Go watch Teletubbies or something.”

“She does not give a shit,” Clint marvels at the situation, a piece of half eaten burnt toast between his fingers.

You didn’t. And if he knew you in the slightest, which he prided himself on at this point, you already had six different ways of getting out of there.

“She knows she’s going to be fine,” Bucky murmurs, returning back to take a bite of his pancakes. “She’s probably still there just to irritate him.”

He zeroes in on your wrist to see if the teleportation watch was still there but no, your wrists are bare. Guess you forgot.

“You have to.”

“Why?”

“Because that’s how a real villain does it.”

“A real villain- what are you, gatekeeping the villain community?” You scoff. “You sound like a fuckin’ incel.”

“Just send them a message,” the guy bellows, hitting a table.

“She’s going to frustrate them to death.” An accurate observation, Sam.

“Okay, jeez, fine.”

Bucky just knows that you rolled your eyes at that moment.

He had faith in you, or in your abilities at the very least. While every wisecrack could possibly inch you closer towards harm, you probably wouldn’t be making them unless you felt completely secure in your situation.

“Help, I’m totally kidnapped and in danger. Save me because I can’t do it myself. This man is too powerful and strong and sooo scary.”

“Do you think she has a strategy?”

“Definitely.”

“You’re not worried, James?” Wanda asks curiously. “I thought she was your friend.”

“She is my friend.” He reaches over to take the jug of orange from across the table. “That’s why I’m not worried.”

“Are you going to fight the Avengers?” you interrupt his endless tirade. “Because that’s a stupid plan. You get how that’s a stupid plan, right?”

“Let them come. I’m prepared.”

“With what? A stick you found outside? A Nerf gun? Man, you’ve tied my hands with fuckin’ zip ties, you can’t be serious-”

“Shut up,” he roared and the stand shakes slightly from where he stamps his feet. “Our army is enough.”

“Wow,” you exhale. “I wish I had your confidence, I really do. I want to study you under a microscope.”

“I have reinforcements.” It sounds like he turns to the camera to address it directly. “This is a warning. Your friends have an hour to find you or things are gonna turn ugly. This is what real evil looks like.”

“Evil dresses in a dollar store Speedo, apparently.” The man pays you no heed, instead picking up the camera. “Hey, sarge, if you’re watching this, don’t bother. I’m fine, it’s not even the real me-”

The camera cuts to black.

“When was this video sent?” Nat looks at Marie, eyebrows drawn together.

“About ten minutes ago.”

Bucky clicks out of the email, determined to get at least half his breakfast in him before he left to see what’s up with your situation. A notification pops up immediately.

[email protected] just sent you an email.

A video attachment.

“We got another one,” Bucky informs the team, drawing their attention back to the screen from the informal conversation that had erupted between them about what they could do.

This time, there’s a subject line included.

Attack on the Clone.

"Ain’t that a Star Wars movie?" he asks, craning his neck to look at Clint.

"That's Attack of the Clones," Sam corrects. "Probably autocorrect."

Bucky narrowed his eyes in suspicion at him, jaw sliding outward before falling back into place. Enough times had Sam called him Fucky in the group chat and gotten away with it for him not to be wary.

“Or a code,” Wanda suggests, too many crime thrillers read and podcasts listened in her spare time. She occasionally brought them over to Self Care Saturday, introducing him to the world of true crime as a bit of light content while they snacked on chocolate chip cookies he baked. “Like the Zodiac.”

“For what?” Bucky peers over at her.

“All I remember from that movie is them rolling around a field together,” Clint mutters. “Maybe that’s how you’re supposed to save her.”

“I’m not saving anyone. Look at her, she’s fine.” Is he the only one who saw it?

When he’s met with skeptical looks and no other useful suggestions, he presses play on the video.

This time it's clearer footage. It hardly takes him a second to ascertain where it was.

"That's her lair." It showed the pathway leading up to the flat concrete building, exactly where the intercom should be.

There was a black Sedan parked haphazardly outside, engine still on judging by the sound of the radio blasting an AC/DC song.

Within a few seconds, someone drags you from the entrance of the lair to the car, despite your very clear protests and opposition, shoving you inside before it takes off in full speed, tires screeching.

"F.R.I.D.A.Y., track the car from that video. Check all the CCTV and surveillance footage from around the area that you can find," Bucky commands, taking a sip of orange juice.

"Why would they send us that?" Clint pipes up. "They make their email untraceable but send us a video of the fuckin' abduction itself?"

"I don't know." Bucky shakes his head, setting his glass down. "She probably convinced them to."

It was an unusual scenario, he realised that. But his eyebrows lower in contemplation, his lip caged between his lip before a thought suddenly occurs to him. A laugh in disbelief almost escapes his throat ad he pushes it down with some freshly cut strawberries.

"And they listened?"

"I don't think you realise how annoying she can be." He knows, though. He knows. "Bet they regret it, though. I should tell them to keep her for a little longer."

"Voice recognition registers voice to someone named Chad, better known by his alias Soul Crusher. Surveillance footage places the car about thirty minutes away. Exact location sent to your phone GPS."

Soul Crusher. That was worse than Dr. Strange.

"I can make that fifteen." Bucky shrugs, setting down his fork and knife. If his hunch is right, the team didn’t really have to get involved. “See you guys later.”

“Do you want any of us coming with you?” Wanda gestures to the crowd at hand.

“I got it.” He pushes away from the table, depositing his plate in the sink, dropping an extra piece of bacon on the ground for Clint’s dog. “She’ll be alright.”

They watch him trail out of the room briskly, heading up to his room to change.

“Is it just me or is he too casual about this?” Clint continues staring long after he leaves.

“Both of them are weirdos.” Nat pulls open the newspaper again, going back to the sport’s section. “Who knows what goes in their heads.”

“Can confirm that not a lot goes on in his.”

Without Bucky to retaliate or grumble, a Steve walking into the room, sweaty and shiny after training becomes the new subject of jokes that morning.

For the first time in months, he’s had to bring a weapon or two along with him. Two revolvers and a couple of knives kept out of plain view. He wouldn’t need more than that anyway.

True to his word, it takes only fifteen minutes to get there, thirteen if he didn’t stop for the chain of ducks that crossed the street.

He’s also dressed in a little more leather than he usually reserves for your meetings. A jacket that brings to act as a windbreaker and tightly laced up combat boots make him look like he either stepped off a runway, or more menacing than usual depending on who was looking.

The GPS points him to an old warehouse near a more subdued part of the city. It was abandoned by the looks of it, and had been for a while judging by the lack of upkeep. Prime real estate.

He pulls off his helmet, hanging it on the handlebar along with his backpack before kicking the stand into place. The bike’s a few metres away just in case they decide to blow something up.

Bucky looks up at the warehouse, assessing the most damage he could do to it if at all it was needed. That thing could barely stand on its own, a grenade would absolutely decimate it. That wasn’t good news for you.

He sighs once before putting on his death glare, straightening out his shoulders into a stature that screams stone-cold, and pushes the door open, gun raised.

A mini-army of people ranging from their early twenties to late thirties stood guard at the entrance, all with rifles pointed at him. He counts fifteen, maybe eighteen.

“Oh, hell no,” a voice erupts from the back, followed by the sound of his gun being thrown to the ground. “No one told me that he was coming.”

Bucky raises an eyebrow, his death glare not shifting and Glock not lowering.

“I’m out.” The same guy raises his hands up to show he meant no harm, slowly brushing past Bucky as he squeezed out of the building.

“You got five seconds to leave before I shut this door,” Bucky gives the rest of them an ultimatum. Not like there was a point anyway. SHIELD was sending down some people to account for the one day rise in new morons.

They all looked at each other, swallowing thickly before raising their weapons.

“I hope he’s giving you good insurance.” The second he finishes his sentence they all cry out in what sounds like a fucking war chant, launching themselves at him.

______

“They’re here.” Someone presses his ear to the door as if the gunshots and screaming weren’t enough.

“Brilliant. We’re ready.” Chad picks up the knife, running his finger along the sharp end. You try to see if you can use your Twitter-ordained powers of manifestation for a paper cut.

“How much are you asking them for?” You put forth a query instead, when it disappointingly doesn’t work.

“Asking who for what?” Chad stops his dumb intimidation tactic for a second.

“You know,” you insist like it was obvious, “my ransom. How much did you ask them to pay?”

“We didn’t-” He looks around at the other people in the room for confirmation. “-we didn’t ask for any.”

“Because I’m invaluable?” Your head droops to the side in mock flattery. “Aw, you guys.”

“We didn’t think of it,” someone from the corner behind you speaks up, coming to the aid of their boss.

“Now that’s just rude.” You tut, shifting maybe an inch or two in your bounds to try and get more comfortable. “Leaving aside your lack of preparation, let’s just assume he bursts in here, desperate and ready to bargain. How much would you ask for?”

“Three million,” Chad says confidently, gathering a nod and sounds of agreement from everyone else.

“Are you serious?” Your jaw drops, a scoff escaping you. “That’s all?”

His self-assurance falters a little bit, you can see it under his 5 Minutes Craft mask.

“Three mill-” You stop mid-sentence. “With this wiring? Ridiculous. Make it ten, I demand it.”

“We’ll ask for fifteen mil,” Chad proposes, his teammates agreeing again, a little more delighted than last time.

“Ask for thirty, you coward,” you argued. “Thirty million and a jet.”

“You’re not worth that much.” The dipshit diagonal to you pipes up with his unwanted and, frankly, useless opinion.

“And you are?” You whip around the best you can. “Henchman number four?”

“Megedagik,” he informs, standing up a little taller now that he was given some importance. “It means ‘killer of many’.”

“Did you just say your name was Mega Dick?”

“Megedagik,” he corrects.

You stare at him hard before turning away. “Alright, other than Mega Dick here, does anyo-”

A knife lands right next to your feet, driven at least an inch into the ground. You look up at the guy you managed to piss off within four sentences, his face now a beet red.

“These are brand new, asshole,” you barked, shaking your shoes around. “You’re gonna pay if there’s even a scratch on it.”

“Permission to kill her?” Meg growls, casting a side eye at Chad.

The boss man looks at you thoughtfully, assessing the repercussions of what might happen. You raise an eyebrow.

“Slow and painful,” he settles.

A small smirk makes its way onto your face.

“Title of your sex tape,” you quip as the man in the corner storms towards you.

_____

It’s all a flurry, really. A bunch of inexperienced newcomers versus one of the most skilled assassins the world had ever seen? Ten minutes tops.

Bucky doesn’t do any serious damage. A couple of broken bones but only out of necessity, a lot of concussions, and maybe a bullet wound, or three, here and there.

Most of the time he spends thinking about things that have absolutely nothing to do with what was going on. He forgot to take his laundry out of the machine. There was a biscotti recipe he had been procrastinating on trying. His succulents needed watering but he could do that once he was back. Was he wearing his good combat pants or was it the pair that had a hole in the pocket?

His left hand thrust outwards to shove someone away while he stuck his right hand into his pocket to check if it had frayed away. The person he pushed slams into a wall with a loud groan and no, his pants didn’t have a hole in them.

He stops to take a breather, assess what was going on. There are bodies scattered all around, mostly writhing in pain from minor injuries. Someone very bravely stands up, hands posed in front of him in a regular fighting stance.

“You sure about this?” Bucky asks, reaching for one of the concealed knives he hadn’t had a chance of using yet. It twirls rather nimbly between his fingers for something so dangerous, the hilt finally landing in his palm for a sturdy grip.

The man takes one look at the knife before sitting right back down on the ground.

“Good choice,” his voice drops to an octave lower than his self-esteem. He’s tired of this old routine but it works like a neat little party trick, often getting him the result he wanted. “Where?”

A few fingers point down the hall to the only room whose door was closed.

He makes sure to step over everyone who was lying along the way, ears tuned in to even the smallest of noises just in case one of them decided to attack him from the back. It doesn’t come.

He doesn’t bother creeping down the hallway. With all the ruckus that just went on outside, he’s pretty sure it’s obvious that they had an intruder.

Bucky kicks in the large steel door with ease, given that it was barely hanging on its hinges. His gun’s raised, muscles tight, and senses on high alert for any immediate threats.

It lands with a large thud, reverberating through the room. He’s reminded of your first meeting with him.

There’s a chair in the middle of the room with a person tied to it by a mixture of rope and tape. Others found themselves slithering around on the floor in a similar fashion, trying to get out of their bondages.

“Hey, James,” you call out, drawing his attention to you. You were sitting atop a table, legs swinging back and forth without a care in the world, a blade in your hand.

“You okay?” He tucks the gun into his waistband when he realises that none of the henchmen are going to be going anywhere soon.

“All good.” You hop off the table with a little spring in your step. “Did you bring your bike? I need a ride back to the lair. I think I left the TV on when I was, you know, getting kidnapped.”

“You coulda teleported back home before all of this even happened.” Bucky does a quick assessment of your body to make sure there weren’t any bruises or anything of the sort. “Avoided the whole thing.”

“Don’t have the watch with me.” Odd, since he knows you consider it one of your essentials but it just fuels his theory further. “Besides, if I just quit before we started, they’d keep messing with me over and over again.”

“Do you want me to punch someone’s face in?” He glances around the room at the ones wiggling about on the floor like fucking worms. “I’d be happy to.”

“Nah, I got a few in myself.” You rotate your wrist, other hand still holding onto the knife. “You know what, maybe I’ll have another go.”

He simply makes a noise in acknowledgement before he places a hand on the hem of your shirt, gently reeling you back. “I think you fixed ‘em up real good. That’s enough for today.”

“Fine but only ‘cause you said so.” You huff, looking past him and at the weirdos on the ground. “You hear that? This man just saved your life. Say ‘thank you’.”

A muffled chorus of what sounded like appreciation echoed through the room. Bucky awkwardly looks around.

“Damn right.” You walk over to the guy in charge of the whole event, bending down to his level. “If you ever try to fuck with us again...”

You stare straight into his eyes, unblinking. You hold up the knife to his Adam’s apple. Chad doesn’t dare to move other than the thick swallow.

You raise your finger and flick him in the forehead. “Get a better costume.”

The corner of Bucky’s lip quirks upward.

“Let’s go, sarge,” you announce, standing upright again and making a motion to follow you. “D’you have an extra helmet I could use?”

“Yeah.” He had brought one along in his bag, assuming that you’d need one once he noticed the watch was missing in the footage.

“Yay.”

The only storage space on his bike was under his seat and it’s just enough for an extra revolver. Clint asked him if it was his way of flirting with someone, give ‘em a quick spin around the city and then show them his gun. If looks could kill, Clint would be 7 feet under.

“You sure you wanna ride it, though?” He cringes immediately when he realises what it sounds like, waiting for you to smack the innuendo in his face. “We could wait for SHIELD.”

“Don’t really have another choice, Bucky,” you say absentmindedly, strolling out the room as you tossed the knife behind you.

He frowns at your indifference but turns around for a second to look at Chad. The man in question looks back viciously, his grandeur from that morning basically deflated and left to die along with his reputation.

“Might wanna reconsider the name,” Bucky remarks, doing a quick sweep of the area once more. “Soul Crusher.”

He waits until both of you are outside the cell and the door is shut on the ringleader and his circus clowns, handlebar twisted out of place so that they don’t escape for the time being.

“One second,” he calls, touch gently lingering on your forearm to stop you without even thinking twice about it. A famously uncharacteristic move for him.

"Hm?” You don’t even look like you notice his action.

“You sure you’re good?” he asks seriously, actual concern slipping through the question. “Do you need medical assistance?”

“They couldn’t hurt me anyway.” There’s something strange about the way you say it, almost assuredly. “I’m good.”

“Okay,” he concedes, his hand darting back when he realises it was still on your arm. His eyebrows furrow when he realises how instinctively he had reached out in the first place. He didn’t touch anyone, ever.

“What are we gonna do about them?” you inquire, stepping over someone on the floor to get to the exit.

“Marie told Agent Hill. They’re sending someone over.”

“They’re sending SHIELD for these wannabes?” Someone groans in protest from somewhere and you elect to ignore them. “Ew.”

“Just to make sure confidential information isn’t compromised in any way.” There’s a large bang that comes from the room they just left. Maybe one of them shot their teammate by accident. They were more than capable of doing it.

“I would never,” you exacted a little more solemnly, pushing the door open with your elbow to let the sunlight flood in.

“I know.” He doesn’t realise how dark it was in the warehouse until he steps out into the noon sun. “I’m pretty sure this is more about the fact that you were abducted.”

“For me?” The smile doesn’t quite reach your eyes the way he kinda likes. Something definitely felt off. “I love being class favourite.”

He doesn’t reply, a small grunt as he twists the handle of the warehouse door upwards, effectively jamming it.

“Can I drive?” You bat your eyelashes at him innocently, disregarding the loud screaming that came from inside as those less injured probably regrouped for a last ditch attempt.

“No,” he doesn’t hesitate in replying, handing you a helmet and buckling his own securely.

“But I just got kidnapped,” you complained, watching him swing a leg over the bike and straddle it. Okay then.

“All the more reason for you not to drive right now.” He mentions for you to get on, squinting at the warehouse a few feet away.

“Fine, but next time I’m driving,” you grumble, climbing on the back.

“Do you even know how to?” His head is tilted to look at you from the corner of his eye, voice heavier on account of the obstruction on his face.

The door starts shaking violently and he knows for a fact that it won’t hold up for much longer. Some of those who he had knocked out probably had been shaken awake again for manpower.

“I can learn.” You take a pause, mischief seeping into your next words. “You can teach me.”

“No.” He didn’t exactly practice what was considered safe, law abiding driving. He just got from one point to another and that’s all he cared about.

“Then I’ll do it myself.” You sound determined. “I’m going to leave a note for us in the lair.”

“You do that.” He revs the engine when something solid hits the metal door. As guessed, their usage of props to push it down faster was coming into play. “Now, can you hold on to something? We need to go.”

If only those idiots just realised that the windows covered by newspapers were right there, ready to be broken.

“Only if you promise to let me drive next time,” you say defiantly, drawing this whole ordeal out.

“Whatever,” he urges. “I promise. Now can we go?”

“Wait for it...” There’s a devilish smile on your face. “One.”

There’s a loud creak as the door finally gives way.

“Two.” The same people you left tied up in the room burst out, almost stumbling over each other in the process.

“Three,” he completes it on his own, not waiting for you to finish because God knows how long you’d stretch it out just for the drama.

Your excited screech of laughter as he narrowly misses a rod that gets thrown at him like a fucking javelin temporarily distracts him from the brain freeze he gets when your arms wind around his waist to hold yourself in place.

There’s angry screaming and bullets that whiz past in an attempt to get him to stop but a swift turn around a corner, pulling the both of you out of their sight is enough to get rid of them.

“We should get a few weapons and go back,” you yell over the wind rushing by, barely audible.

“You do that in your own free time,” he shouts in response, yanking you through narrower lanes and less popular streets.

“Maybe I will, you bore.”

Still, you shut up for the rest of the ride, only grumbling when he stops the bike to tell you that no, you cannot let go just because you want to throw your hands in the air like in the movies.

You hop off when he finally pulls up on the street outside your lair, adrenaline still pumping through your veins. He waits patiently as you unbuckle the helmet, switching off the engine.

“You gonna drop me off at my door too, now?” You snicker, fingers pulling off the helmet.

He looks at you for a second before dropping the kickstand into place and dismounting from the motorcycle.

“I was kidding.” You laugh, handing him your headgear that he shoves into his backpack.

“You’re pretty capable of gettin’ abducted along the way.” An absurd notion, considering it’s a short path from the road to the door.

“Oh, how chivalrous.” You let him tag along anyway, for his peace of mind.

“My ma didn’t expect any less.” A couple of sharp lessons from Winifred Barnes and Bucky was nothing short of a damn angel.

You knock on the door three times, crossing your arms over your chest as you waited.

“Aren’t you the one with the key?” Bucky questions, one hand on his waist.

The door swung open in the middle of his sentence revealing... you.

Another you.

“Nah, she has it.” Ex-Kidnapped-You raises your head in acknowledgement at Doorway-You.

“Ah.” He fucking knew it. An unnatural sense of smugness blossoms in his chest.

“Hey,” the both of you said at the same time.

Doorway-You looked way more relaxed, a little less grimy and dishevelled but exactly the same.

“Buck, I see you met my other half,” the you from the doorway greets him. “Or other whole, actually.”

“Sure did.” He sends a glance at Ex-Kidnapped-You.

“You can go on in. Big first day, huh?” Doorway-You refers to the you beside him.

“You wouldn’t believe,” Ex-Kidnaped-You mutters, pushing past the entrance and disappearing inside.

“She gonna be okay?” His gaze trails after your clone.

“Oh yeah, just needs to recharge.” You turn around to make sure she’s fine. “She’s made of some pretty strong carbon, technically almost indestructible.”

No wonder ‘you’ said they couldn’t hurt you.

“Heya, sarge.” You draw his attention back to you. “Always good to see you.”

“Can’t really say the same about you.”

“Ever the emotional repressor, Mr Barnes. I like this little leather show you got going, did ya wear it just for me?”

He shifts his balance to his other foot, feet slightly wide apart. “Take it that the clone machine finally worked?”

“I was in the middle of celebrating.” You sigh, recalling the events of that morning. “Teleported home for a second to get some champagne and when I came back she was gone.”

“Irresponsible.” He tsks, head shaking in disappointment.

“Sorry I didn’t take amateur kidnappers into account for my risk factor analysis, Bucky,” you shoot back, pressing on his name for added annoyance. “Anyway, I did the responsible thing. I sent all the evidence I had to you guys.”

“Real clever.” Bucky looks at you in dry amusement. “Attack on the clone? Really?”

“Hey, always make time for a good pun.” You finger gun, lopsided grin on your face. “Did the team like it?”

“They thought it was a typo.” Or a code. He really had Wanda to thank for his big revelation. “Your video didn’t help either.”

“Don’t tell me they couldn’t make out it was me.” You laugh, crossing your arms over your chest.

He doesn’t reply, pursing his lip inwards in sympathy, but more so to conceal a smile.

The happiness drops from your face slowly, horror taking its place. “Don’t tell me they couldn’t make out it was me.”

“Good job, your machine worked,” he adds helpfully.

“C’mon, there were so many differences,” you whine, the success of your endeavour the last thing on your mind.

“That is your literal clone,” he points out, only to see you- clone you- walk into the giant box in the corner of the room, bright green light emanating from it like a xerox machine.

“How could they not tell the original apart from a copy?” You look genuinely offended. Insane. “Not even Sam?”

“Guess you’re not unique enough.” A rise and fall of his shoulders signify his attitude towards this whole thing. “Think I like your copy better, too, actually.”

“You’re so mean.” You puff in disbelief. “I’m a 100% original. How many mad scientist teachers do you know?”

“Two.”

“I don’t mean now, that’s not even the-” You poke at his rock hard chest. “You are so much more annoying than when I first met you.”

He thinks it’s good relationship development.

“I have to deal with you every weekend.” He watches your finger drop from his chest. “Picked it up along the way.”

“Boo hoo, talking like you don’t have deep, deep feelings for me.” You roll your eyes. “I see right through you, Bucky Barnes.”

“Can you see the part that couldn’t give less of a shit?” He gestures to himself. “It’s all of it.”

“You think you’re such a comedian, huh?” You narrow your eyebrows. “How did you know she was a fake then, huh?”

Busted.

“Probably ‘cause you didn’t talk as much today,” he dodges. “Actually had some peace of mind for a change.”

“You knew before you got there, you liar.” You push past his fabrications. “You figured it out before everyone else.”

“You literally put it in the title.”

“Yeah, but the rest of the team saw it too.”

“Rest of the team didn’t know you were building a goddamn clone machine for months.”

“You remembered that?” You pulled away, palm over your heart. “Oh, sarge, you paid attention to me.”

His nose twitches.

“You said it, like, eight hundred times.” He could use both his hands to count the number of references you had offhandedly made in the last three weeks alone.

“Why'd you go save me when you knew it wasn't real?” you continue to challenge relentlessly, knowing fully well that he was fibbing.

“Because you fuckin’ peer pressured me. Had the whole team around me when you sent your little video during breakfast.”

“Just admit it,” you coo, ignoring all his justifications. “You noticed it was fake me right away but showed up anyway because you’re wildly in love with me.”

“No,” he says stiffly.

“No as in you won’t admit it you have a crush on me, or no as in you didn’t know it was fake me?”

There was no winning this.

“Good day to you.” He pulls the motorcycle helmet on to hide the expression that plain as day screamed the former of your two options.

“Also,” you bring up indignantly, “she even got to ride the fucking bike and I’ve been asking to drive it for months now!”

“We-” he chooses his words carefully. “-compromised.”

“Oh, you did?” Your voice lowers at the newfound information, interest piqued. “I’m gonna hold you to that then, whatever it is.”

“Doesn’t count.”

“Absolutely does,” you huff. “A promise is legally binding. Blue’s Clues taught me that.”

“Bye, Y/N.”

“You’re my knight in leathery armour,” you swoon, switching sides immediately, “Kinda.”

“See you next week,” he says in farewell, determined to leave before you made it worse. “Try not to get killed by then.”

“Why, so you can do it yourself? Protective much?” You pull him back when he starts walking away, laughing slightly. “Wait a second, you weirdo.”

He sighs, staying put anyway, arms crossed impatiently over his chest.

You pull out the pen tucked behind your ear and slowly tap him twice on each shoulder in a makeshift knighting ceremony. “For your sacrifice.”

He rolls his eyes at the ludicrousness, tongue clicking against the roof of his mouth.

You ignore his lack of enthusiasm, pressing your fingertips to your lips in a small kiss and then to his nose, given that it was the only part of his face you had access to.

“That was for your bravery.” You grin brightly at him and he sure as hell is glad he’s wearing the stupid helmet because he can feel his cheeks light up a bright crimson.

“Thanks.” His voice sounds gruffer than a second ago. He clears his throat.

“Now you’re my knight in leathery armour,” you fawn, nearly falling over yourself dramatically. “Let’s ride into the sunset together. I love you.”

“You’re ridiculous,” he calls out over his shoulder, turning away to return to his bike. “I despise you.”

“But you don’t.”

He really didn’t.

also i managed to fuck my phone up really bad so all proceeds from my ko-fi go towards getting it fixed

Next part

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #mcu fic #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fluff #bucky angst #bucky barnes angst #harmless fic #winter soldier x reader #Winter Soldier #bucky barnes #bucky

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anabsolutetrainwreck · 3 years

Note

can you write something about the reader being a singer and harry’s family going to see her live for the first time ?

you’re so golden || h. styles

warnings: famous!reader, no covid

word count: 1.3k

summary: you’ve never been as nervous to perform as you were when your boyfriend’s family was in the audience...

This was your second time performing at the O2 Arena in London. The first time was on your second tour and you were sure you’d never felt nerves like it. But the show had gone wonderfully. It was two hours of pure serotonin. Having fans scream lyrics you’d written back to you was one of the most exhilarating feelings you’d ever felt coursing through your veins. And after your first show at the O2, you assumed the second would be a walk in the park. Your nerves for the show had died down immensely. That was until your darling boyfriend, Harry, informed you that his mum and sister had purchased tickets. Now you were even more nervous than you had been for the first show.

You and Harry first met in 2018 at the BRITs. He’d won the British Video award, whilst you had snagged the British Album award for your second album. Mutual congratulations were exchanged after your managers introduced the two of you. It was only at the end of 2018, after your world tour had finished, that you became something more than friends. And when your fans began to notice lyrical parallels in both yours and his songs towards the end of 2019 when Fine Line was released, they were sure the two of you were dating after seeing so many paparazzi pictures of you on dinner dates and hanging out in the streets. What really pushed it over the line though, was when they connected a sweater you were wearing in a picture you’d taken with a fan to a picture of Harry in 2016, coming to the conclusion that you were wearing his sweater. And, finally, when you were listed in the writing credits of She and Falling, they were sure the two of you were an item. Neither of you had necessarily confirmed it, but you hadn’t made the effort to deny it.

With the added pressure of Harry’s family seeing you perform live for the first time, it was also the first show of your entire tour. You’d start in London and finish in Tokyo. Your third album had been well received, the fans adored it. And, as soon as the promo and press stuff was out the way, you were on the road again. Which brought you here, sat backstage at the O2, waiting for your cue to go on stage. Your show had sold out, meaning 20,000 people were watching you perform. When you heard your name being called, you got up to head onto the stage.

The screams of your name lit something up inside of you, a large smile working its way into your features. Your bassist, Delilah, smirked at you. You loved your band, they were your best friends. “Good evening, London,” you grinned, standing in front of the microphone in the centre of the stage. “How are we all feeling tonight?”

You were met with screams from your fans. You smiled, something they never failed to make you do. You introduced your first song as your band began the intro to the song. As you were singing, stopping occasionally to let your fans sing the lyrics without you, you couldn’t help but skim across the sea of screaming people in an attempt to spot Harry and his family. And finally, as the first song came to close, your eyes landed on Harry, Anne and Gemma in the crowd. Harry was busy talking to a fan who was sat beside him. Gemma cheered loudly as you made eye contact with her, forcing an amused grin onto your face.

As the evening progressed, you couldn’t help but get lost in the electric atmosphere. Joking around on stage with your band and interacting with the audience was one of the many lights of your life. You were eternally grateful that you’d made it; you were doing what you adored as a career. “Now, before we wrap it up, I have one final song to perform. It’s a song I wrote in 2018 after I met someone very special. So, if you know the words, sing along. This is February,” you said, beginning to pluck the strings on your guitar.

The crowd screamed so loudly, perhaps the loudest of the evening. This was definitely a fan favourite. It was common knowledge that this song was about Harry, having met him in February of 2018. Amongst themselves on Twitter, had made a rule to stay silent during the chorus of the song, isolating your voice across the arena. Something about Y/N and only Y/N singing to Harry. It was sweet really and you loved how much your fans banded together on social media to pull off little things like that. And as soon as they figured out that Harry was attending your show, they were all the more determined to make it happen. And, as you began the chorus, the arena went deathly silent. Your amplified voice rang across it and you couldn’t help but look to Harry as you sang. Like you were singing to him.

The rest of the world, it felt, just slowly drained away and all that mattered to you was Harry. He stared back, his eyes full of what could only be described as such immense pride. It was only when the song finished you were pulled back down to the present. “Thank you to every single one of you for being so perfect tonight! I love you all so much!” you yelled, blowing kisses to the cheering crowd.

You took a bow, your band following suit. The lights faded and you vanished into the blackness, the fans still screaming. Even when you left the stage, still sweaty from some of the livelier songs, the buzz did leave your body. It took about five minutes for Harry to meet you backstage. “You were so incredible,” he whispered, kissing your forehead as he wrapped you in his arms.

You grinned up at him, your eyes full of admiration for the taller man. Shortly afterwards, Gemma and Anne emerged. This only left you to be swept up into another hug by the two women, who had become somewhat of a second family to you. “Is tomorrow’s show sold out?” Anne asked.

You nodded. Your next show was also at the 02. Your tour management team added an extra day due to the tickets selling out so quickly. “That’s a shame. I want to see you do it all over again!” she grinned. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Oh, thanks, Mum,” Harry said, though he couldn’t help the smile that tugged at his lips.

“You ought to take some notes from Y/N,” Gemma added, smirking.

“Wow,” he laughed. “All my life I’ve known you… betrayal hurts, guys. I’m human too, you know?”

The three of you laughed at his pout. It slowly moulded into a smile, “You were amazing though, love.”

You smiled gratefully at them, “And you weren’t underwhelmed or anything?”

That was your main worry. Harry had been talking about how brilliant your shows were, so Anne had told you. The night before the show, when she’d been round at yours and Harry’s flat for dinner, she was explaining how excited she was to see you live after all of the footage she’d seen of you performing. And you’d been worried for the 24 hours that followed that conversation that she had her hopes up too high for your show. “Underwhelmed? Of course not! You were wonderful, Y/N,” Anne assured you, squeezing your arm.

“You were so golden on stage,” Gemma grinned, glancing between you and her brother.

He rolled his eyes at her, “Okay, well now you’re just stealing my lyrics.”

#harry fanfic #harry fanfiction #harry imagine #harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry x reader #harry x y/n #harry x you #harry imagines #harry styles imagines

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lwt28brave · 3 years

Text

LT2 masterpost

If it was up to me, we would get an autumn or winter EP. Since it’s not up to me at all, here, enjoy this post with everything we know so far of LT2, which is to say, not much at all. Everything here is hypothetical. I’ll be updating every time I see something relevant. A little disclaimer that while this is a masterpost (kinda), it could be read as discourse (duh, it’s also a theory), AND it’s also by me, and you shouldn’t expect me to be serious at this point.

Due to me restraining myself, there’s no reference to any of the times he’s mentioned his guitar skills and him improving but I hope you know I cried every single time.

I’m also linking my old pinned here. It was written before AFHF and around the free merch thing that didn’t lead to much, but I still think I made some good points.

Possible tracks:

Copy of a Copy of a Copy

Change

Faith in the future??

369??

Possible names:

369

Faith in the future

When is the album coming out?

Your guess is as good as mine

Friday 28th of January 2022. Almost two years after Walls. It’s a Friday. It’s a 28th. What else can I say?

Here you can find @want-to-be-loved timelines for every month.

Here you can find @berlinini’s timeline of what Louis has been up to this year (2021).

The rest is under the cut. And here you can find a PDF version where Tumblr can't tell me how many pictures I can add.

2020

He said back on May 2th 2020 he wasn’t writing anything new yet.

(x)(x)(x)

Interestingly enough, he’s said many times after that that the album’s not ready cause he has no new experiences to drawn from. I won’t call him out because he does it himself.

May 4th. He liked a tweet from DMA’s Johnny Took saying they had to go write together again. Louis has been credited as an influence for them and (kind of) participated in their previous record, so I’m assuming he meant for their music and not his, but you never know.

Nothing(literally nothing??? how did we survive) until 11th of July. We all know what happened that day. We all celebrated it. Nonetheless, that’s not what I’m talking about here.

(x) So, by the beginning of July 2020 he was working on concepts and ideas for the new album. That was fifteen months ago. I know perfection takes time but…

Brief summary of important things that happened from then until the next mention of new music:

Louis left Syco!!!! 10 days later he rescheduled the tour for the first time. He followed Matt Vines on Twitter, probably so we could publicly shame him into doing something. Also, the 10thanniversary. He followed more people I wish he hadn’t.

Then more nothing until September. Not even a single tweet. The first merch drop was on the 28th of August but he just RT’ed the tweet. He first mentioned Free my Meal on the 25th of September. Then on October 1st Walls hit #1 on a lot of countries and Louis was incredibly happy and excited about it ^^

And then, that same day, October 1st, 2020, he dropped this bomb:

(x)

He also said it was too soon to be sharing new lyrics with us (x)

And, obviously, this tweet which is actually what made me start this whole post. I would hope you know mate.

(x)

He also told us he was cooking "banger after banger" and that he was incorporating more social themes into his music (x)(x) (I believe any social issue is a political issue but that’s not the point rn).

COPY OF A COPY OF A COPY?!?!

These next paragraphs are brought to you by my mind not remembering things and me not having any links. I’m assuming COACOAC came from those writing sessions that supposedly happened in October. Or in LA but I have no idea if he actually was in LA at any point other than a Daily Mail article putting him there on December which would have been too late, but I do remember that someone said he was in the studio in LA last autumn???? A rumor. Maybe. IDK. Did I mention already all of this is very hypothetical?? Well, this is it. I can’t even remember if this was October or November or what. So, take this with a grain of salt.

I’m also… taking the liberty to assume, if you must, that Copy wasn’t meant to be a Walls reject because it sounds more mature and darker and it has a vastly different tone that Walls songs. I know he’s said that song probably isn’t getting into the album, but I want to have faith (in the future) that I’m getting a studio version. (But also, Louis, if you’re reading this, first of all GET OUT OF MY BLOG second of all, please don’t ever feel pressured again to add a song to the album because we have already heard it before. It’s your art and it should always be under your own terms).

So yeah, I believe that Copy is either one of those four songs (then imagine the other three??!!) or was written around the 1st of October date.

---End of the Intermission---

Then not much important (other than sharing more about Marcus Rashford fight against food poverty and the 2nd merch drop) until he announced the livestream on the 24th of November. (x)

It wasn’t until a few days before the livestream date we even thought again about new music (jk, I know we’re always thinking about new Louis’ music). So, December 9th/10th, 2020. Nine months ago. We got our first taste of new music!

He made sure we knew Copy of a Copy of a Copy isn't a cover! (x) (x)

(x)

Ok, so that’s it for 2020. (I feel like I’m missing something from September 17th because tweet was deleted but maybe he was still talking about cucumbers. We might never know. Unless I understand how Tumblr tags work). Expected, cause Walls was released in 2020. We needed to let it sit for a while.

2021

Another Summary: Louis third tweet of the year was telling the UK government off. So was the fifth. What a good beginning. On the 26th of January, he said he prefers pancakes over waffles. I hope he meant pancakes other than his own. More importantly, he tweeted the infamous “you lot read into things too much”. Don’t get me started, Tomlinson. Don’t. Then the 31st came around and Walls was one. He tweeted this. How wise. And Project Defenceless happened!!

15th of February!! Who cares about Valentine Day when the next day we got this? ♥

(x)

So…AN EP?? AN EP?? PLEASE RELEASE AN EP.

“I’m sure I will have something out this year but unlikely that will be the album”. Unlikely but not impossible. Also. A single would be good. This is the second time he mentions releasing something in 2021 and he sounds surer about it than the first time around.

He also said that he isn’t sure we will get a studio version of Copy. And that the best bridges from Walls to LT2 are Walls, OTB, KMM and Copy. Can’t wait!

Then we jump to March 6th when he announced he was going to create his own management company. “Sometimes action is needed first to encourage the motivation and belief”. As we can tell he was already manifesting some stuff which will lead us to the numerology stuff/Tesla… kidding. Or not. We might never know.

On the 22nd of March he answered some questions:

He told us music was still his main focus ♥ mwha. (x) I included this tweet to guilt-trip him into giving us music in case he’s reading this even after I told him to leave. ILY.

(x) I’d love to get a visual EP this autumn. Just saying. It sounds like a lovely concept.

(x)

…next (I will get into it, I promise. I’m just mad).

On the 25th he left for Mexico until April 10th. You could assume it was just for the documentary where we got ten seconds of footage or admit the obvious: LT2 its a Mexican baby!!

On the 26th (so, not so far apart from that first 369) we got the first Faith in the Future mention: (x)

Back then we were innocent people who had no idea what was coming upon us. We still have no idea because what the fuck does he mean with these. Please explain. I have one braincell and I don’t use it enough for this. I’m linking some theories.

On the 30th of March he confirmed he was already working on the documentary. So AFHF was already on the works. Will it take this long for us to get the Veeps numbers? We also got this tweet: "Got a decent chorus idea down" (x).

Same person that got the “something out this year” exclusive. If you know something share with the class. Also. Is this Change? I feel like this could be Change but I also assume he wrote Change after hanging out with his friends or being in Doncaster. But who knows.

(x) And the second mention to 369.

(x) 15th of April. The second "Faith in the future".

On the 19th of April he announced that he had something BIG for us later on the year which turned out to be the Away From Home Festival ♥♥ (x) I love him so much.

Then on the 28th he announced the 369 merch drop (which it’s probably the Walls drop? Except that the TOU and KMM ones were “drop 1 and drop 2” and this was drop 369 which, again, makes no sense) but we still don’t know what 369 means.

Into May’ 21 we go.

He rescheduled tour again. And dropped another bomb (x).

He announced he has signed with BMG as an independent artist by RTing this tweet on May 10th. The article also says that he’s already working on writing and recording LT2. The timing… we don’t know. What this deal involves… we don’t know either. Bear with me here because I have a lot to say about this.

I think the deal is only a distribution one, but that BMG are interested in Louis and what he (us) could bring to the table. They were either present at the festival or watching it, but officially they had no involvement at all with it (everything is credited either to Louis own company, 78 Productions, or Charlie Lightening’s company). That’s the case for both giveaways too; the vinyl one and the tickets for the festival.

I think it would be an unbelievably bad move not to test the waters with BMG now or soon-ish. At least a single, to see how it performs. Due to the circumstances, it’s obvious there’re certain limitations on place but I want to see how they push it, whether the radio play exist this time around and if the song is playlisted and promoted and all that… I would also love to know, since it says he signed with BMG UK, but it also states it’s a global deal, how things are going to go on the US and other countries.

Yes, yes. I know those are all questions and no answers. But I know the same as you, sadly. If any of you know more than you’re letting on… again, share with the class.

Where was I? Yes, on the 25th of May Louis had a great day writing (x). Since the first time he had mentioned he was officially writing to this date there’s almost eight months. And I believe he was writing before October’ 20.

He followed Robert Harvey that day and, on the 28th of May (why is it always the 28th???) he was spotted at the studio for the first time.

June was an interesting month for the fandom ♥. Lots of LHL content which I will love and cherish for the rest of times. On June 4th, June 9th, and June 10th he was spotted at the studio, but I believe he was there more days.

(x)

This was posted on June 6th and captioned Studio. Charlie also shared it with “Mega tunes being put down, can’t wait for this @louist91 #louistomlinson #LT2” as the caption. This gives me 2019 (Elton-Joint) vibes. I like it. Feels like we’re getting closer to something.

He added the Milano date on the 9th too which I’m mentioning because I’m going alone. Anyone wanna go with me please? I’m nice and I never eat anything before a concert so you can have my food. On other news. It didn’t come home.

During July he was at the studio at least three days too. Probably more. Feels like more with all the fan pictures we got. Or was that June? Anyway, July 1st and 9th we got some videos from Robert Harvey and wearesuperhi, which is who Louis has been working with the most, that we know of. I don’t know for sure they’re from that day. And on July 5th we got an article and lots of pictures of Louis looking really good outside the studio.

On the 12th of July the first fans started getting the free, 369 bucket hat and print. We still don’t know what the purpose was other than to thanks fans. Maybe that was it. I want answers and I still think it relates to a future project (see theories above), but it could also just be a bridge with the Walls breaking.

He didn’t tweet about anything interesting for a while, mostly because he lost his phone (he either throwed it in the air or smashed it who knows). Then on the 29th of July he announced the festival!

I’m glossing over it because there’s already been a lot of talk about it (rightfully) and while it was a wonderful thing, it doesn’t have much to do with LT2.

Let’s talk Change!

On August 3rd he tweeted this about the setlist.

(x)

And this (x) on the 28th! I can’t stand him.

We didn’t get it, obviously. Because who was going to get that. But we read too much into things. Alright.

On the 16thof August Dave Gibson shared this post tagged #LT2 with the eyes emojis 👀👀👀. I believe this has to do both with Change but also with whatever else came out of that Mexico trip.

(x) Last relevant tweet related to LT2 is this one.

So, on the 30th of August we got Change and we cried, and we know that Change is going in the new album. He said it. With those exact words. He also said he was “getting a feeling for it”. This has to meant he already has a general idea of the vibe of the new album and what’s going in it!!!!!! (Right? RIGHT?).

Anyway, let’s go back a few weeks because some other things happened on August. He was at the studio a few more times. Or it was suggested that he was there. On the 17th and the 18th. (Why was it so time-pressing to be at the studio instead of rehearsing for the festival? There was no studio at all on the documentary. Which makes sense, but again, then why?).

On the day of the festival we got another mention of Faith in The Future that made me feel part of a cult ngl. The words were flashing on the screen for less than a second. Okay.

And then he tweeted those words again after watching the livestream/documentary on the 4th of September (x). This is what makes me suspect it's either the name of the album or of the single.

On the same day, we got some interesting quotes about LT2 on the documentary.

“Soon I’ll have to think about me second album, which in my head I’ll get the tour out of the way and then I’ll address that. So, I hadn’t really given it much thought, to be honest”.

“When every day is the same is hard to feel creative and it’s hard to have any kind of proper inspiration”.

“As season started to come back, I started writing again and it was great and some of these songs turned out alright”.

And I think this is it. I might be overlooking some important details but that’s what we know and what we don’t know.

So. Conclusions. That’s what you missed on Glee. I do believe the album is, if not mostly done, partially there. And yes, this post is pointless and never-ending but it’s all in here if you need to tell Louis “Hey, you said this, mate”.

#LT2 #Louis Tomlinson #Faith in The future #369 #Louis #LT #new music #idk what this is #but it's long #pinned

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sour--disposition · 3 years

Text

Little Limbs

This is inspired by an idea from the lovely @simp4sidemen, I hope I did your idea justice 🥰

Simon Minter x Fem!Reader

please check my masterlist to see if requests are open

The ring sat heavy on your finger. It had, after all, only been 2 months since Simon had presented you with the promise ring.

After a beautiful date at a rooftop bar by the Thames, he’d pulled out a black velvet box, opened it and slid it across the table to you. “Is this what I think it is?”, you asked hesitantly.

“No”, Simon chuckled at the nervousness in your voice. “No, it’s not that. It’s a promise ring”, he told you, gently, nervously.

“Oh”, you were speechless, something that didn't usually happen around Simon, people usually couldn't get a word in edgeways around the two of you.

“It’s a promise that one day it will be what you thought it was. Its a promise that I’ll love you for as long as you’ll keep me. It’s a promise of me, to you, for you”, he said, fingers fidgeting over the box lid as his eyes held yours.

Tears sprung to your eyes and you quickly reached up to stop their flow. “Shit, I didn't mean to make you cry”, Simon panicked.

“No, no!”, you rushed out. “It’s not like that, that was just really beautiful and so is the ring and so was tonight. You just caught me really off guard”, you told him through your watery laugh. Simon instantly relaxed into his chair, relieved.

“Can I?”, he asked, nodding towards your hand. You nodded, and he reached over, picking up your right hand and slipping the ring onto your ring finger. “Perfect fit”, he smiled.

“Everything okay?”, Simon’s voice asked, pulling you out of your trance. You looked up to him, smiling softly.

“Of course”, you told him simply. “Can I wear this today?”, you asked, holding up one of his black Sidemen Clothing hoodies.

“Of course”, he repeated, a smirk dancing across his face. You huffed at him, throwing your night shirt, the shirt Simon had taken off when he got into bed the night before, at him as you got dressed. “You can’t throw my own clothes at me as an insult, Y/N. It just doesn't work like that”, Simon laughed.

“It just doesn’t work like that”, you mocked in a high pitched, whiny voice as you pulled your head through the neck of the hoodie, careful not to get any make up on it. Simon laughed at you, picking up one of the countless decorative cushions you'd plagued his room with, hurling it at your thigh. “Truce!”, you called, throwing your hands in the air to surrender, already knowing you wouldn’t win in a play-fight with Mr. Lanky-Long-Limbs in the corner.

You followed Simon out of the bedroom, down to the parking garage of the apartment building and into the car. “Are you sure we’re a team, yeah?”, you asked him.

Simon had roped you in to the Sidemen’s second parenting video. There was no host this time, just 4 teams trying not to kill a plastic, robotic doll in the streets of London. You’d agreed, of course, but only if you’d be paired with Simon. You’d throw the baby at JJ’s head in the first hour, guaranteed, and you weren’t here to lose.

“Yeah, and if not, I’ll just swap with whoever you’ve ended up paired up with”, Simon smiled simply, turning his eyes back to the road. The rest of the car journey was a comfortable silence, filled only by the sounds of your joint Spotify playlist running through the speakers. Simon’s hand rested on your thigh as he drove through the streets of London, occasionally mindlessly drumming along with the music as you waited in traffic.

Once you’d pulled up to Vik’s apartment, Simon parked the car. He squeezed your thigh softly before unbuckling his seatbelt. “Are you sure you’re okay?”, he asked you, voice tinged with worry.

“Yeah, I promise, Si. I just have a lot on my mind at the moment”, you told him honestly. His worry didn't subside, if anything it only got worse.

“You know you can tell me anything, right?”, he took ahold of your hand, his fingers running over the band resting on your finger. “You know I’m always gonna be here for you?”.

“I know, Si. I promise I’m okay. We can talk about it later, yeah?”, you told him, twisting your fingers to wrap them around his and hold his hand properly. “I love you”, you reminded him, leaning over to kiss him. “Now, come on, let’s go get a baby”.

Two hours later, you and Simon were strolling through a baby shop, looking for an outfit for your new child. “Y/N! Look how cute this is!”, Simon yelped, holding onto a tiny grey onesie that had ‘I love my Daddy’ written across it. “I think Petunia needs this”, he told you seriously.

“No, Petunia needs an outfit fit for a little lady. She wouldn’t be caught dead in grey, Simon. Gosh, do you not know your own daughter!”, you laughed, leading him over to the aisle that held clothes better suited to the size of your doll.

“Is it something you ever think about?”, Simon asked you, sifting through the little pink dresses in front of him. “Us, I mean... Having one”.

“I do, yeah”, you smiled up at him, leaning into his side. “Do you?”, you asked him, chewing on your lip. Simon’s brow furrowed.

“I do. I know you’ll make a great mum. I mean, if you can look after me and JJ drunk, you can do anything. I just... I don’t think I’d be a good dad”, he sighed, hand stilling on the flowery dresses.

“Why?”, you asked him, tilting your head up to look at him. “The fact that you worry you wouldn’t be a good father already shows that you care. Nobody knows how to be a parent until they have to, Si”, you told him softly, slipping your arm around his waist to rest your hand on his hip. “I think you’d make a great dad”, you smiled.

“Really?”, he asked you, eyes lighting up as he looked down to your face.

“Yeah, I mean look how much effort you put into youtube and streaming and fan interaction. That alone shows you can commit to looking after something. Yeah, its different than like... a whole baby... but in the last 9 years, you’ve never given up on it”.

Simon didn’t say anything after that, just wrapped his arms around you and held you close to his chest, dropping a kiss to the top of your head, before you moved on to find Petunia some shoes.

“Y/N, she won’t stop crying”, Simon stressed. The two of you were finished in the baby shop, getting ready to make your way over to the tills to pay, when Petunia decided that it was time for all hell to break loose. “What do I do?”, he panicked.

“You go outside with her and feed her and I’ll get this”, you told him, handing the nappy bag containing all of Petunia’s belongings over to Simon.

You were quite sure that the footage of yours, Simon’s and Petunia’s day would be positively, mind-bogglingly boring. It turns out that the one pair that actually function as a couple 24/7 make a really good team, who’d have guessed it?

Back at Vik’s apartment, the student cards were sorted out so you could see how well you’d all performed in parenting. It was no surprise when Harry and JJ’s baby came last, given that it returned to Vik’s missing an arm, a few toes and an eye. Ethan and Vik came next, somehow managing to shut the baby off 20 minutes into their day so there was barely any information to even report back. Josh and Tobi’s baby had survived, albeit a bit hungry and tired. But Petunia... yours and Simon’s little lady had come out on top.

“Oh, I’m so proud of Petunia”, you and Simon had gushed, like real proud parents. You showed the boys the picture of Simon asleep on the sofa, Petunia’s hand grasped tightly in yours.

“You didn’t have to show them that”, he huffed, nudging your side.

As Vik retired the babies to a spare-room, the rest of the guys set to ordering take out. “Who wants a drink?”, Vik asked as he walked back into the living room and kitchen area. A chorus followed, all reeling off several alcoholic beverages.

“I’ll just have lemonade”, you told him with a smile. After managing to convince Vik that, yes, you were sure you only wanted lemonade, you went and sat back down with Simon.

“I got you something today”, you told him once all the guys had got their drinks and found a seat. “Here”, you told him, handing him over a small gift box.

“What’s this for?”, Simon asked, turning the box over gently in his hands.

“Just open it”, you told him.

Simon pulled the lid off of the box. His jaw dropped. “You’re...”, he trailed off.

Inside the box lay two positive pregnancy tests and the tiny onesie he’d shown you earlier on in the day.

“I found out last week, I didn’t want to tell you until I’d been to the doctors and checked properly”, you told him.

“Oi, what is it?”, JJ asked loudly. Simon’s only response was to hold up the little outfit to show the guys. “I’m gonna be an uncle?”, JJ asked, a lot softer this time. His face had split into a grin, as had the rest of the guys.

“Y/N’s pregnant”, Simon said softly, as if he was trying to convince himself. He looked over at you, and then down to the baggy fabric of his hoodie over your stomach. “Can I?”, he asked.

“Of course. It’s your baby, Si”, you chuckled happily. He reached out a hand, laying it gently over your side. “Are you okay?”, you asked him gently.

“Vik, can we borrow the balcony?”, Simon asked, turning his head to face his friend but not letting his hand leave your body. Vik nodded quickly, pointing in the rough direction of the door since he already knew that you and Simon knew the way.

“Should I not have told you in front of everyone?”, you asked quietly. Instead of saying anything, though, Simon dropped down to his knees in front of you, letting his large hands cradle your sides. He dropped a kiss to stomach, just below your bellybutton, and you instantly felt better.

“Hello, little one. Daddy loves you, too”.

#simon minter imagine #miniminter imagine #simon minter #miniminter #sidemen imagine #sidemen imagines #sidemen oneshot #simon minter x reader #miniminter x reader #sidemen

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skellebonez · 3 years

Note

You said you have yet to write something for winter's Actor au, so how about we fix that!? Maybe with promts 18 and 28? It could be with anyone, Shadowpeach, Freenoodles, even Ironbull, you choose

Disclaimer: I don’t really know all the ins and outs of how movie making works, I am winging it based on behind the scenes footage videos. This is probably not a 100% accurate representation of a studio lot. There are multiple mentioned ships but no focus here today, this is just a fun little gen fic idea I had! When does this take place? ..... UH... SO ANYWAY @winterpower98 CREATED THIS AU!

Looks like we’re going to be stuck here for a while./You call this luck? No, this is all skill.

No one was prepared when the crash of thunder shook the studio building and the lights flickered out. The cameras followed suit, along with all the other equipment, and everyone breathed a sigh of relief over the fact they hadn't been filming any stunts that day and none of the actors in need of the more labor intensive costumes had been fitted yet as it was still early in the day.

“IS EVERYONE OK!?” Niu Mowang yelled out, his voice carrying through the now quiet set easily without the noise of the electronic equipment (as expected for the actor of the Demon Bull King, he needed that stage presence and it seemed to be coming in useful). “SOUND OFF!”

“I’m ok!” “Me too!” “Whoever has a phone turn on your flashlight!” “IT’S FUCKIN DARK AS SHIT.”

The last one was said by Long Xiaojiao, earning a chorus of surprised and grateful laughter as multiple people did as requested by the director. The lights helped a bit, making it at least possible for those around the set to move to a slightly safer location. They all jumped as another thunder clasp struck closer, truly shaking the entire building this time and making even the most sturdy of them shake in worry.

After another moment of darkness there was a flicker and a low hum as the dim emergency lighting for the set building came to life.

“Alright everyone, that 'little storm' they called for today is apparently way more intense than they claimed it would be,” the director said with a frustrated and worried sigh, and everyone was thankful they had moved everything they needed inside the day prior in preparation. “Looks like we’re going to be stuck here for a while, given the emergency lighting. Hey!" He turned to another staff member, pulling out his phone in the process. "Can you and the new guy help me call the rest of the cast and tell em to stay put? Alright, thanks!"

“I'll call my dad,” Qi Xiaotian yelled back to the director, looking at his own phone and appearing grateful they still had some signal.

He had come in along with Xiaojiao and anothered cast member ahead of most others (aside from Mowang, who had come in early alone for his... own reasons) to apparently work on some last minute changes to the script that had been left with the young actor the night prior. He supposed that when the script writer was dating your father it made working on that kind of thing much faster (and boy was everyone happy they finally started outright dating, Mowang was starting to worry someone else would have to set them up with each other).

"Which one?" Xiaojiao asked with a chuckle and soft nudge to his shoulder, both jumping at another building shaking thunder clap. "Uh... maybe I should call my folks too... just to let them know what's up."

Mowang sighed, watching at the two youngest members of the cast that had already come in for filming that day moved around to another part of the set to sit and call their respective guardians. This was... odd. The storm was only supposed to last a short while and be no stronger than the normal thunderstorms they got in the area. By the time they were done filming inside the storm should have subsided... but the sounds outside made him second guess if they could even leave on time safely. Normal thunderstorms do not shake buildings this hard or come on this fast.

In the middle of his thoughts the large man felt the brush of a smaller hand on his arm as someone sumbled, startling him into looking over and reaching out a hand to steady them reflexively.

"Mr. Cheung?" Mowang raised a brow as he caught the clearly worried expression on his face. "Is everything alright?"

"Oh, yeah! Totally fine, peachy even!" Dicky Cheung, their very own Sun Wukong (and Mowang still wondered after all this time about what his full proper name was, given Dicky was apparently a stage name and Cheung was his family name, but he hadn’t found the right moment to ask), answered with an overly happy chuckle and a shake of his head. "Just, uh, tripped a bit!"

Well that was... odd. He normally was a lot more poised than this. And as far as any of the actors on set knew he wasn't particularly scared of storms.

"Are you sure you're OK? You seem agitated," Mowang raised an eyebrow, noting that the other man was watching Xiaotian and Xiaojiao. Maybe he was just worried about the younger cast members? "Have you had anything to eat this morning?"

"Huh?" Mr. Cheung looking up at him with a raised brow of his own, confusion lacing his features for a moment before he looked off into the distance and frowned. "... actually... I think I forgot breakfast..?"

"Well that won't do!" Mowang scowled with a sigh, placing a hand on Mr. Cheung's back and firmly leading him toward the refreshment table. "You get to tell me how I did then."

"How you what no-Oh!" His question was answered as quickly as it had been asked, and Mr. Cheung couldn't seem to help his laugh. "So that's why you came in early."

"I wanted it to be a surprise, but it looks like we got a bigger one," the larger man said with a chuckle, picking up a thick slice of one of the bread loafs himself. "It's my first time trying to make some of these."

"I bet Tie Shan would have been extremely impressed," Mr. Cheung said with a smile before grabbing a piece from a different loaf and taking a large bite, making a pleased sound in response. "There are peach chunks in this!"

"I, uh, thought you'd like that one... guess I got lucky," Mowang couldn't help bit stumble his words a bit and blush at the reaction and mention of Shan before eating his sweet potato bread. The batch had turned out good! A little heavy, but good. "You think the young-uns would feel a bit better if they had a snack?" He nodded his head to Xiaotian and Xiaojiao, watching as another clasp of thunder shook them again and the young man un particular held onto his friend like a lifeline.

"You call this luck?" Mr. Cheung seemed to have tensed again, but his tone was light and his smile was more relaxed. "No, this is all skill. You need to give yourself more credit off the stage. And I bet they would."

He flashed his signature bright smile before rushing over to the younger actors, saying something to Xiaotian after Xiaojiao rushed off to possibly tell everyone else about the snacks. Mowang could have sworn he heard something about someone "messing with and angering a demon who could control the weather", but that had to be a metaphor of some kind.

After an hour no one could figure out where Dicky Cheung had disappeared to until he reappeared after the storm finally let up. He looked fine but... Mowang could have sworn he had changed into similar but not identical clothes and his hair was wet...

Weird.

#monkie kid #lego monkie kid #gen fic #actor au #mk #qi xiaotian #mei #long xiaojiao #sun wukong #monkey king #niu mowang (dbk)#freenoodleshipping #(mentioned)#ironbull #(implied)#tie shan (pif)#(also mentioned)#prompt fill

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natromanxoff · 2 years

Text

Queen live at Amphithéâtre in Fréjus, France - July 30, 1986

(x)

This concert was originally supposed to be in Nice (as seen on the poster above). Freddie actually didn't find out the venue had been changed until the day of the show, refusing to show up to soundcheck. Having realized the contract couldn't be broken, he finally arrived late to the gig. "Let's fucking do this," he shouted as he got out of his car and headed to the stage.

With a capacity of 15,000, this is one of the smaller venues Queen would play on the tour. Freddie comments on it when introducing Another One Bites The Dust: "It's nice to be here tonight in this little bedroom. Now that we're in this bedroom, let's do a little boogie, huh?" Just prior to this, Roger had done a snare fill in the break after Under Pressure to which Freddie replies, "I know you're bored, Roger. Hang on." His drumming is enthusiastic in many spots tonight.

Before he does his Queen breakup rumour speech, Freddie asks, "Everybody understands a little English, yes? I can't speak French. I'm trying, but I mean... it's useless." He then introduces Who Wants To Live Forever. "This is a new song. It's written by Brian. It's on... It's a very new... What do you think it is?" Someone in the audience then shouts for We Will Rock You!

Freddie sings the third verse of Another One Bites The Dust very similarly to the album version, and he later offers a great rendition of Is This The World We Created. He also sings the first verse of Bohemian Rhapsody closer to the record version than ever before on stage.

He references an iconic French singer before Crazy Little Thing Called Love: "This is a song that Édith Piaf would've sung if she was alive." It was probably more of a joke as she was best known for her renditions of ballads.

During the breakdown of Radio Ga Ga after the second chorus, Freddie says, "It smells like a hamburger."

Instead of singing "I thank you all" in the second verse of We Are The Champions, Freddie quips, "Cartier and all." It throws him off his game, and he messes up the next few bars of piano - and audience members definitely notice. He was wearing some kind of hat, and perhaps it fell off or somehow got in the way. In the next chorus, he makes up for this flounder by singing "We'll keep on fighting" like the album, with his masterfully powerful vibratto.

Pics 2 through 4 were taken by Fredo, pics 5-8 were submitted by Alessio Rizzitelli, and the last one is from Juan Gabriel.

There is no known video footage of this show. Any footage purported to be from Frejus is extremely likely to be the TV footage of the Paris show.

(x)

Fan Stories

“In summer 1986 my friend Martin and I decided to do an Inter Rail Tour i.e. you buy a railway ticket which allows you to travel unlimited miles all over Europe for a whole month. We started the tour in Villach/Austria on July 1st 3:15. 18 hours later we reached the Italian-French border at Savona. As early as the next day we went on to Cannes. The first thing we did in Cannes was to go to a ticket shop and to buy tickets for the Queen show that was to take place on July 30th in Nice. The vacation was already a huge success having these tickets and our anticipation was huge. We kept on travelling the whole European continent. Mid July we stopped at Oxford and London. On July 11th we decided to visit the Queen Fan Club. Unfortunately, the office was closed but we noticed hectic activities near the building of Queen Productions without knowing the reason for it. Only much later we realised why the fan club had been closed: it was the day of the first Wembley concert and we two blockheads had no idea! The stop in the UK was followed by a short trip to Spain. Then we wanted to spend the rest of our vacation on the Cote d' Azur. We found a camping ground near Nice in a town called Frejus. Each day we went by train from Frejus to St. Raphael, a 20 minute ride, to spend the day on the beach. One or two days before the concert I was lying sunbathing on the beach of St.Raphael when I noticed a small aeroplane towing an advert banner. The banner read that the Queen concert had been rescheduled to take place in Frejus instead of Nice. Thank heavens I saw that banner, if I had not seen it by sheer coincidence we would have stood before closed gates on the night of the concert. Finally the long awaited day arrived: July 30th 1986 - Queen live in Frejus. In the morning we packed our bags because we had to catch the last train right after the concert. At 1:00 pm we arrived at the amphitheatre where only about 100 fans were already waiting. The heat was almost unbearable. I remember that a fan, who had come in his car, parked the car near the gate, opened the doors and played his cassette at full volume. So, we heard A Kind Of Magic at least five times through the afternoon. Around 5:00 pm (or was it 6:00?) the gates opened. We had good "starting positions" and ended up in the 5th row in front of the gate. When the gates opened, the "battue" was considerable, as you can imagine, but we survived. When we entered the amphitheatre we hesitated for a moment if we should head for the stage or rather go for the stone steps - there was still enough room. After having stood before the stadium for hours we decided to secure seats on the stone steps so that we could sit for a change. We went half-way up the stadium and had a perfect view of the stage. The theatre is rather small and very intimate. No matter where you were, you could see the stage well. The stage was also pretty small and packed with equipment. After more waiting the show finally took off. The support band Craaft was rather boring and was hardly appreciated by the crowd. Craaft was followed by a long and boring set change. I remember the never ending "One-Two" - "One-Two" sound checks. However, the crowd was in great spirits. Those of you who ever attended a Queen concert know what I am talking about. Queen enter the stage. The start of the show is the part I remember most vividly. The lighting rig hung deep down, only about 2 metres above the stage floor. As soon as the "One Vision" intro began, the apparatus began to move and bright light came out of it. During the intro the whole lighting construction unfolded to its full size, a modest size of course, because the stage was really rather small.

I don't need to tell you about the show and the set list. I remember Freddie's greeting "Welcome in this little bedroom". My friend had smuggled his mini cassette recorder into the stadium. In the beginning he held up the recorder - unfortunately, because the music was so loud that the small microphone could not handle the sound volume. Later we put the recorder on the step behind us and so we got a reasonable bootleg. After such a long time I don't remember more details but I will never forget the magical atmosphere on stage and in the audience. Wait, I remember this: both Brian and Freddie played a wrong chord: Brian made a terrible mistake towards the end of Bohemian Rhapsody and Freddie hit the wrong key in "We Are The Champions" on the piano right before the part "but it's been no bed of roses". It was so bad that the show stopped for a second. It is remarkable that in a perfect show like this one small mistakes do happen and it made me happy to see that Queen are human, after all. The last thing I remember of this concert is our walk from the stadium to the station. We walked along the rails, did not speak a word, were half deaf and totally blissful. This night was definitely the highlight in my life as a Queen fan.” - Winnie

“Just stumbled over this site and read the other report of the Frejus-Concert! Thought I'd share my story too! I was spending my summer vacation at a campground near St Tropez, France with five friends. I saw the concert posters and decided to check out if there were still any tickets left. (It was just a few days before the gig)! So I borrowed one of our two cars from a friend and drove to Frejus to find a ticket. Actually, I wanted two, because of Amanda, this incredible blonde Scottish girl I met at our beach! :-) Well, I got my two tickets quite easily and drove back to Port Grimaud. Unfortunately, in the remaining 36 something hours until the concert, Amanda was nowhere in sight! (It turned out later that they made a tour that day, and it turned out she loved Queen! Well, missed chance for both of us! Never saw her again! So I borrowed the car a second time, had no trouble selling my extra ticket (for the price I paid, of course) and went to the concert! I was 18 back then. 34 years later, I can only remember the atmosphere in the ancient Roman amphitheatre! Coming in through small entrances, the summer dust kicking up as thousands pour in, I remember a lot of people mocking a cattle round-up! "Muuuuuh, muuuh" - quite funny! The concert was great, as the other two I witnessed (Stuttgart 1984 and Mannheim 1986, only some weeks before). It wasn't until some years ago that I learned this was the 5th last Queen concert of all (-Freddie) times! Thought I'd share my story! Wonder what became of Amanda! :-D Greetings, Andi” - Andreas Gorr

#queen #queen band #roger taylor #freddie mercury #brian may #john deacon #queen concerts

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kyotakumrau · 3 years

Text

2021.03.10 USEN STUDIO COAST 2nd session with Toshiya and Kyo

Fujieda and Takabayashi again came on stage when the tables were ready and after greeting everyone and introducing themselves F asked fans to give band members a loud applause👏

Toshiya and Kyo came back and they both changed for the second session!

Unconfirmed until DIRT announcement, but most likely T was wearing DIRT items: light grey cardigan and black and white floral print set, top and bottom, with a thick white stripe with black frame on the sides. Plus sunglasses.

Kyo was wearing Madaraningen, MANG white shirt with the tie and black slacks, white socks with colorful accent, gold choice of Madara jewellery. And big glasses.

They sat in the same order as for the 1st session.→F K T Ta

T: I'm Toshiya, yoroshiku onegaishimasu

K: I'm Kyo.

The whole time during the 1st session K was turned slightly to the right, but during the 2nd session he was basically sitting facing F.

F: (after he talked about Rock-May-Kan footage) It's the first time you performed Ochita koto no aru sora. Did you have any trouble with it?

T: hm. Chorus is hard.

F: continues fast.

T: yeah. But you just practice and get used to playing it.

F: Shinya said that thanks to the rehearsal you did as the rhythm section songs he got them back quickly.

T: I see. He should be grateful😆

F: How about you, K? Any trouble?

K: don't know (he's looking to the left side of the venue)

F: you've only performed it once.

K: wah! (still intensely looking at the left wall of the venue or somewhere that direction)

F: 😱?! why are you looking there?? Can you see anything?!

K: thingy there is moving and moving...

F: whaaaaat, don't scare us like that!

K: ... (he continued to look there).

👻？😂

F: Didn't you play Jealous first time in a really long time? Wasn't it hard?

T: it wasn't a big surprise, we were planning it originally for the SOGAI tour.

F: the cancelled tour.

T: We were waiting until the last moment to see if we can go on with it or we have to cancel, so we had the proper rehearsal for the tour. So when rehearsing it for Rock-May-Kan show it didn't feel like it's been a long time.

F: K you said it was embarrassing to remember and perform it?

K made the 'robot move' from PV with a totally blank face😂

F: you also played Umbrella, so will you be playing more old songs?

K: Anything is okay except 'Toriko'. There's a drums solo in the end, it's so long and the switch to the next song gets so confusing.

T: How about we leave S and just go?

😂

Then they talked how Shinya fans and other fans would react.

K: Wouldn't fans be troubled with [he made the robot move]?

😆

F: you T don't mind old songs?

T: they're fine/no problem.

F moved the talk to the flyer and their new artist photo.

K: Auspicious/celebrating. Like New Year. And osechi.

F: I see, if using food to explain it's like osechi.

F: How was the filming of the PV?

T: Really long. But speaking of refreshing/Sawayaka, do you know the hamburger shop with that name?

F: it's in Shizuoka (F then again got very enthusiastic talking about how delicious is the meat there, how very juicy etc)

T: so PV is like that (like a juicy meat😂).

F: the single cover art is very unexpected for you.

K: I know and like this artist from before, I asked her to do it for us. I really like it.

After that was time for the merchandise topic. F announced that he confirmed that the rechargeable heat pack can also work as a charger/power bank. K who asked about it in Yokohama and was then told that no, it's just a heat pack just gave him such a look. F, you're not gonna get out of this alive😂

K: ...it'd be such a good item in winter, so it's for the next one? We don't sell it in winter, only for warm season. Wow, heat pack for the warm season...

/s by K👌💯

F started to enthusiastically advertise the towel saying like a muffler it can be worn on a cold day to keep you warm, and K...😂

But T was also poking so much fun at F with his reactions, 'oh I see! Wow!' 😂

T: I think we haven't had wristbands in a while.

K: what are you actually supposed to do with it?

F: you can wipe the sweat off (he gestured wiping sweat from his brow)?

K: I see. Then what about the towel then? (he also gestured using a towel with one hand and a wristband with the other at the same time [kinda like the Jealous robot move], the look he gave F and that pause when he waited for F to dare to answer, oh my, F, you're so dead🤣)

But T and Ta said that guitarists actually use it to keep sweat off their hands etc.

K: so with all of these fans are settled for the show at Tokyo Garden Theater? (F was nodding to all listed items) These and the ticket and we're good? And the train ticket? Ah no, commuter pass? What should they wear? (F: The hoodie) But then we don't sell any bottoms, should fans go without any pants? What? But we have two items to wipe sweat!

F: fans can bring the travel pouch, usb, they all fit perfectly in the bag! All good items especially if you come from outside of Tokyo.

K: and no bottoms😆

F: well, they need extra money for the ticket and their own bottoms.💦

F also advertised venue limited edition of Ochita.

K: so there are no plans for normal sale? When it gets sold out that's it?

F: yeah.

(it's contradictory with Kaoru's tweet, not sure if I trust F😂)

After that we moved to the section with questions from fans. F as usual split the papers so everyone got some, K this time didn't even read them, just putting them in F's pile😂 but then he was leaning over all the time trying to read what F was looking at😁

F said there many questions about where T stands on the seat choice.

T: on shinkansen I prefer window, on the airplane aisle.

F: why?

T: if I need to stand up to go to toilet etc it's easier.

F: but on the train you prefer a nice view, I see. Shinya said he prefers window seat any time.

T: He's a kid.

F then told her about the rest of the seat preference story (table down idea and S not needing to stand up at all).

F: "are you okay with the pineapple in a sweet and sour pork? Is there any food you're not okay with?"

K: I don't mind. I don't like milk and coriander. But there's something, not exactly food, that I totally hate. You know when you go to a shushi restaurant, conveyor belt sushi, there's alcohol to clean your hands. (K then said if there's a perfume like smell in it you can't enjoy food or something like that).

K (looking at the venue wall calmly): oh it moved.

F: WHAT??!😱

😂

T: I don't mind the pineapple, it's actually very good to help make meat more tender

F: Is there any food you hate, T?

T: The food F doesn't like.

(does it exist??😂)

K: F, you have to understand pineapple's feelings.

K: I thought you F would get pineapple's feelings.

F: I'll try to step in pineapple's shoes...

K: Pineapple is often disliked, but it's being helpful...

K tried to sway F a bit more into becoming a pineapple...

Ta: I'm ok with it, pineapple's feelings are safe.

T: "please tell us F's one good point and one thing you would like him to improve". F is so popular.

F: Not at all😅

K: despite the pineapple...

F: so, T?

T: He can appreciate food/has good appetite, is energetic. Something to fix is that he answers everything with そうっすね/yeahsure

F: K said something similar.

T: About Tooru (he used Takabayashi's given name), he's very good at laying groundwork for projects. Something to improve... well, when I think of something I'll let you know (to Ta).

Ta: Anytime.

K: Ta's good point, he does his job in a matter of fact manner. He doesn't exactly has something to fix, but he can't eat cheese, so fe when we go abroad he can't have pizza.

K: there are so many things F should fix.

F: That ﾊｲﾊｲﾊｲ・yeahyeahyeah

K: ...🙃 just answer with one proper はい

K also complained again about F's eating manners that he opens his mouth too much when eating, sometimes also will turn his head when eating ramen like it's easier to eat (K demostrated F eating posture, arms high and head turned - a bit like Jealous robot pose😆)

F: any good points?😆

K: ...hm. You make every place comfortable. I can relax with you, I wouldn't be speaking at all if you weren't here.

Both fans and F went 'Aaaaaw😊'

Ta: "are there any electronic goods you want right now?"

K: ...hm, solar panels.

F: does that count as electronic goods?

K: isn't it electronic? I want one you can put on the roof and make your own power.

T: yeah, solar panels would be nice.

K: And you can sell electricity to power companies. It's expensive at first, but after 10 years you can start make money, also you can use it if there's an earthquake.

F: can we get it at the store?

K: Why not, you could carry it home on your back!

F: Maybe not...

K: Can I put one on you F?

F: No.

K: then tattoo the giraffe on you, one long giraffe stretching from neck to knees.

F: You like giraffes.

K: Yes (noded)

K got so excited about the giraffe, F won't hear the emd of this idea😂

F: " do you have a favorite female idol or singer?"

K: This morning I was listening to Togawa Jun, レーダーマン.

F: you T?

T: No one in particular. But ones from the past.

F: like globe?

T: isn't it wrong age?

K: globe is the band with Sam?

F: I think that's TRF, in globe it's Mark Panther and Komuro Tetsuya.

F: "how about favorite artist or band you like?" Or just music you like.

K: I'm listening now to Sekiri (赤痢), an old female band.

F: foreign band?

K: From Japan, with 3 female members.

T: I just use shuffle, listen to music without choosing who to listen to.

F: It's a streaming age now.

T: Is it?😆

F: Ok we still have plenty of time, "what's your shoe size?"

K: 24.5, for sports shoes 25.5.

T: 27, for sports I go bigger, maybe 28 or 29. Boots are better just right. But why do you need such information?😅

F: Usually fans can't ask such things, like do you pull your hoodie strings? (?)

K: I don't.

T: it depends on my mood.

F: ok, not much time left now, we will finish soon.

T: but you just said we have plenty??😆

Ta: "what your favorite album/single cover art?"

T: to pick just one is tough.

Ta: S said that Oboro is in his top 5 now.

T: Favorite cover... hm... what is it, I know, MISSA!😆

F: it's cool, it has members photo.

T: it does?😂

K: For me its DUM. It really captured album's worldview.

F (unsure): are you angry?

K: S answered that Oboro is in his top 5 to the question what's your favorite? Why?😑

F explained the situation, that it wasn't to the same question, K just replied 'I see'.

And then when F just wanted to finish K said they should do all of the leftover questions, but without thinking too long, very rapid q&a

(and absolute nightmare to write down but so SO entertaining🤣 sorry I'm not sure about all the questions it was TOO FAST)

K: hurry up!

F: (something about some time in their life)

K: now, next.

F: what about T?

K just rushed him😆

F: food you want to eat now.

K: choboyaki

F: T, a fragrance you like (?)

T: Aroma.

F: sakura season will start soon, do you have favorite spot?

K: when is soon supposed to be?

F: T, is there something you want now?

T: No.

F: K, do you color your hair by yourself?

K: Yes, next.

F: Bread or rice?

T: Both.

F: what do you buy in convenience store?

K: sweets

F: what do you do first after waking up?

T: open eyes.

D: which convenience store do you like best?

K: Convenience store.

F: do you eat skin on the chicken?

T: I like the skin best.

F: (how do you deal with stress??)

K: stress.

F: T, do you sleep naked or wear pajama to bed?

T: Pajama.

F: (something about Oboro photo shoot???)

K did the robot move in reply😆

F: which style of clothes you like when shopping?

T: simple.

F: To finish, what's your favourite obento side dish?

K (gave F disbelieving look): You want to finish with this?

F: We asked others tok, everyone had different preferences.

K: what were other members answers?

F: for Kaoru green beans or asparagus, for S hamburger, Die... we talked yesterday, but what was it?

K (seriously): I like unagi.

(marinated eel is delicious, but also very expensive, so definitely not a side😅)

F: it's delicious.

K: It is.

T: is this really needed? Don't have one, just nothing that makes food soggy... Ah, but you know when you have a pickled plum on your rice, you move it and there's this pink spot with plum flavor? I like that!

Then it was really the end and time for the last comments.

Kyo: I don't have anything.

F: By this you surely mean you're looking forward to seeing everyone in May...

K (killer face): ...💢

Toshiya: Thank you for coming today. We are having a concert in Tokyo Garden Theater on May 6th, please come if you want to. Thank you.

#dir en grey #kyo #京 #toshiya #爆音会 #目黒鹿鳴館gig #talk event #attempt at live report

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sorcerersofnyc · 3 years

Text

The Last Thing Left (Zemo x F!Reader) 2/9

If it wasn’t so painfully ironic (and hilarious to watch,) Helmut would find the relationship between Sam and James a little sad.

Ghosts weren’t enough to hold two people together.

Chapter 2: While they wait for Torres to locate Donya Madani, Zemo brings Sam and Bucky to the home you shared.

Slow burn, previous relationships, angst, various mentions of death & mourning. You both lost your spouse. You're a regular civilian person. Zemo's wife's name is Heike because of comics. The reader likes waffles (this is a non-negotiable fact)

Did I set this whole story in Spain because of Daniel Brühl? Yes, I did. The most impactful dialog has been translated.

Note: Main Character is neutral in most regards but the story was written with my own cultural background in mind. (In other words, I won't say what she looks like but I envision her as being black.)

First Chapter | Previous

***

The plane lands mid-morning near the Bay of Biscay.

Thin clouds give form to the blue sky above them, gathering to shield the world from the worst of the heat. It’s a lovely day , Helmut thinks, even as the smell of jet fuel lingers pungently in the air.

As he drapes his coat across his forearm and Sam and James stretch their limbs. But as a middle-aged woman struts. across the airfield to greet them, they’re attentive, alert.

“¡Hola señor. Es bueno verte otra vez.” She gives Helmut’s hand a gentle squeeze, her voice heavy with relief.

“Hola vieja amiga. ¿Recibiste los artículos que pedí?”

“Sí Sí. Las flores y los gofe se enviaban antes de su llegada.” She nods and sends a knowing glance his way before adding, “Y tu coche te está esperando.”

“Muchas gracias,” Helmut replies.

The woman takes a step back to acknowledge his company. Sam gives the woman a polite smile and James acknowledges her presence with a nod.

“There’s a car waiting for us,” Helmut tells them. “Come with me.”

“Man, how many people work for you anyway?” Sam asks, looking back at the plane, watching as Oeznik descends the stairwell and the woman waves over the maintenance crew.

“Very few really,” Helmut says. James scoffs at his reply.

But true to his word, a car waits on the street; a dark classic model, freshly polished with wide leather seats.

“Gentleman,” Helmut gestures toward the car you sent, “our carriage awaits.”

It was hardly discreet, but that was the point.

You did exactly as he asked.

***

When he promised to take care of you, you rejected out of a sense of humility. Humility, however, could not ensure your survival, let alone your well-being.

Simply put, you had nowhere else to go. The long shadows cast by the sunset cast over your face, highlighting all of your tired, tear-streaked features. But when you looked at him, there was recognition in your gaze, an acknowledgment of the grief that sat between you like a weight.

“I… I appreciate it, thank you.” You sniffed, “And I… I’ll be there for you too.”

He guided you away from your husband’s grave a moment later, vowing he would find you a better tomorrow.

There was no helping Sokovia; war and dissension plagued its streets long before Ultron. So Helmut gathered what he could from the rubble of his father’s home and made arrangements for a jet to be ready at the nearest functioning airport.

The airport was a dome of steel. Its once white titles were scuffed and crowded with people taking shelter and vying for seats on commercial flights.

You were quiet, your eyes glued to the broadcast showing on nearly every TV. There was a video playing, some newly uncovered camera footage of Novi Grad being lifted in the air.

“Come on,” he told you, leading you away with his hand upon your shoulder. You didn’t have much, not physically, just a duffle of what you salvaged from your home and the letter Dominik carried.

Oeznik was waiting in front of the plane, and it relieved Helmut to see him. His faithful butler had been on vacation in Belgium with his family, but once he saw what became of Novi Grad, he came back early.

“It’s glad to see you in good health, Sir.” He said.

“Thank you, Old Friend.”

They kissed cheeks and Helmut escorted you inside the plane, which carried the distinctive smell of cleaning supplies though neither said a word about it.

It wasn’t until you reached the cloudless blue sky that you spoke of what you saw.

“I was in the city that day,” you told him. “I was saved but… I don’t remember how I reached the boat to the helicarrier.” Confusion colored your expression, entangled with sorrow and relief.

Your eyes met his and flickered away just as quickly as guilt—survivors’ guilt—overtook you. He’s seen that look on far too many times on the faces of the soldiers he commanded not to know what that look was. “It happened so suddenly,” You continued, “I was on the ground and then… I was there. It was like someone picked me up and… I was just...there, on the boat with the others.”

“You were rescued by one of the Avengers?” Helmut leaned forward in his seat. “Thor maybe?”

“It must have been, but I don’t recall him being capable of such a thing.” You looked down at your feet.

“We didn’t think them capable of many things.” If there was an edge to his voice, you didn’t seem to notice or care. He continued. “The very idea of the Avengers has always been troubling; they’ve become idols, icons, something more than human. We are meant to forget their flaws and the destruction left in their wake. Remember New York? London? Washington D.C? Did we not watch the Hulk rampage through Johannesburg mere days before Sokovia was destroyed? It was always a mistake, allowing them to act freely.”

You looked at him then, your head tilted to the side in contemplation, taking in all he had to say.

“Has anyone said where Ultron came from yet? No one seems to know if he is an alien or some sort of rogue government experiment.”

“No. But one thing is clear; so long as the Avengers exist, someone will rise to challenge them; They will fight, and Sokovia will not be the last place they bring to ruin.”

You nodded, consciously or not he didn’t know, but on some level, you agreed.

***

Helmut’s thoughts are interrupted when the car turns onto a street lined with elegant townhomes with low-pitched roofs.

James breaks the silence that settled between the three.

“Where are we going?”

“My home.” He announces as the car stops before a large house made of grand arched windows and a sand-colored stone.

“Is this where you lived when you were plotting against us?” Sam sends him an incredulous look, as though the idea of stepping into his home offended him somehow.

“My home in Sokovia was destroyed, Sam. I needed to live somewhere—but yes,” Helmut shrugs, “you’re exactly right.”

“Oh great,” James mutters, but Helmut pays him little mind.

Two columns embrace the grand archway that sits above the ornately carved wooden door.

Upon it he knocks loudly, ignoring the questioning looks he gains.

He waits.

The air is dry and his attention drifts toward a fallen leaf on the pavement; it’s deep green and browning at the edges, its middle eaten through by an insect. The leaf skitters away when the door flies open and he’s forced to confront his worry.

He looks at you. You stare at him in disbelief. The world falls away into nothing.

“Helmut,” you finally say, breathing his name out in relief. “Estás de vuelta.” You’re back.

Your hands are trembling as they reach for him, as your thumbs brush across the curve of his cheek.

For so long your face was but a fragmented memory, your voice the chorus of a song. Only now, as you stand before him, are you complete. You smile.

“Sí, estoy en casa ahora mi amiga.” Yes, I’m home now my friend.

He touches his hand to your own, basking in the simple joy of your touch.

But then you glance behind him, your eyes narrow and the moment ends.

“Helmut! “You hiss. “¿Has traído a los Avengers a mi casa? ¡Por qué!”

Sam and James exchange glances. Whether either spoke Spanish is a matter of speculation, but they surely recognized the name of their allies.

“I’ll explain everything once we settle in.” He raises his palms in surrender to you, looking for all the world like a man abdicating his control.

You don’t move.

“I would like to see the paintings you mentioned in your letters.”

Your scowl deepens, your stare sharpening to a knifes-edge.

“I promise to have a good explanation.”

Finally, you step aside, ‘come in’ you say, and Helmut leads Sam and James further inside. The two have been quiet so far, observant of their new surroundings. He can’t be sure what they assume is happening, but Sam thanks you as he passes. James nods but says nothing.

The house is just as lovely as he remembers it to be; tall white walls, polished tile, an overabundance of lamps, and a painting on every wall. He never agreed with your sense of design but the home was undoubtedly welcoming.

“Make yourself at home,” you lead them inside, into the parlor where a fresh bouquet of thick-stemmed roses sits in a vase beside the entryway.

The rest of the room is familiar to him; red cushioned seats and glass-top tables, and rugs that sit just so beside the bookcase.

He briefly wonders where Anežka, your young housekeeper, is. The paper cranes she’s so fond of sit artfully on the shelves but there’s no evidence of her presence there.

You must have given her leave in anticipation of your meeting, he reasons.

You wanted to be alone with him.

His heart swells at the thought of what you might have done together.

Unfortunately, he sighs, Helmut isn’t alone with you. So instead of the immeasurable amount of fun his mind conjured, he watches you look between your guests—Sam, then James, then Sam again.

“I believe introductions are in order,” He finally announces, draping his coat across the back of his favorite chair.

“Yeah. That would be nice,” Sam retorts. He lingers near the entryway, unsure of the space. “Is this really your house?”

“It is. Well, it was. It now belongs to my lovely associate, gifted to her before I left on my mission.”

“Your mission,” James scoffs. He leans back against the wall near the bookcase, fixing him with a heavy stare.

You skirt the moving to stand at Helmut’s side as you wait for his promised explanation.

“Sam, James,” He calls for their attention, “This is my partner,” he tells them, introducing you by name.

***

Thanks for Reading!

I debated the ending for quite a while. It changes the initial trajectory of the story but it provides for a dramatic ending. Next time, we'll see how your relationship with Zemo changed from persons with mutual friends to 'partners.'

There's a deleted scene that I'll post as a special chapter soon!

Taglist:

@actuallyanita

@fillechatoyante!

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#baron zemo #helmut zemo #zemo #zemo x reader #I understand and read Spanish much better than I speak and write it #I did everything I could but I fear it's very academic

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niqhtlord01 · 4 years

Text

Humans are weird: Bio-Terrorism

The gaping maw was the most imposing location on the entire planet of Savan VI.

Since the dawn of Gillden’s civilization it had been an almost holy place for their people. A place that judgement was cast upon the accused and should they be found wanting their bodies would be cast into the bottomless hole and their memory erased from existence; a fitting end for those whose crimes were monstrous enough.

As the ages had passed and the Gillden’s had become more technologically advanced building was built around the maw which became known as the “Hall of Justice” while the surrounding area became known as the government district of the world. While more modern facilities were built as the Gillden entered the galactic stage they still held to their old beliefs and still held trial for their most severe crimes at the maw.

Criminals were led into the hall from a narrow walkway to a grav unit podium in the center of the room. As the accused reached the podium the walkway would retract leaving the accused on the floating island of the podium while being observed by those around them held aloft on similar grav unit benches and stands.

In the event the accused was found guilty the podium they stood upon would slowly tilt sideways until flipping upside down and casting the guilty into the gaping maw below. Before righting itself again for the next case.

The hall of justice today was a chorus of hushed voices; its occupants speaking in hushed tones, eyes darting at the nearest sound louder than a whisper.

The Arbitrator General sat atop a large stand opposite the podium slowly going over papers strewn across his desk.His thin fingers slowly turned each page with the dexterity of a archaeologist handling the find of a century, the thin strands of his hair being casually flicked out of the way more by reflex rather than conscious action.

Finally having read enough, the Arbitrator gave a subtle nod and the doors to the hall opened opposite him.

A lone figure was shoved forward through the door and fell to their knees. They wore the grey garments of a prisoner of Saran VI yet they themselves were not Gillden.

The human stood to their feet unsteadily and after a moments hesitation continued walking along the gangway to the podium.

“Prisoner 47893″ the Arbitrator spoke as the human reached the podium and the gangway retracted. “You stand accused of crimes against the Gillden people. How do you plead?”

Shielding their eyes with their right hand the human took in their surroundings for the first time. They saw the faces of the Arbitrator and the onlookers all watching them with their crimson eyes. It was like being watched by demons in the dead of night waiting for the campfire to die out.

“Not guilty.”

The onlookers raised their voices in uproar at the humans words, waving their fists and some even trying to hit them with thrown objects.

“SILENCE!”

The Arbitrator’s voice was deafening and the onlookers fell silent like school children.

“The prisoners stance is recorded. Accuser, you may begin.”

One of the onlookers stepped out of the benches and on to a separate platform that drifted towards the center of the room.

“Noble Gilldren’s,” they began as their platform slowly spun in place so the Accuser could see all of the onlookers, “I have come here before you, to our most holy sight, to prove that this human is a monster beyond all recognition.”

The Accuser pointed at the human with what the human thought was meant to be an intimidating star but if stares could kill than this Accuser’s was about as deadly as a water pistol.

Pulling up a data pad, the Accuser hit several runes and large hologram display panels appeared overhead. “State your name for the record.”

“Silva Torris.” the human spoke.

“What is your profession Ms. Torris?”

“I am a biochemist.”

“And what does a biochemist do?”

Silva cocked her head to the side. “Are you people fucking stupid or have you not advanced past the dark ages yet?”

More clamor came from the onlookers but a slam of the Arbitrators fist against their stand silenced them.

“Permission to treat the prisoner as hostile?” the Accuser asked the Arbitrator General. Receiving a subtle nod the Accuser pressed another key on their data pad and the shackles of the human sent a strong jolt of electricity coursing through Silva’s body.

The suddenness took her off-guard and she recoiled as if she had just been punched in the stomach. She was bent over when the Accuser repeated the question and she straightened herself out.

“I study the chemical reactions of living organisms.”

“Do you know why you are here today?”

She shrugged. “Clearly not for my sense of humor.” To which she was then shocked again by the Accuser.

“You are here,” the Accuser began as his platform circled Silva’s podium slowly, “because you released chemical agents on Savan VI that have resulted in the deaths of more than 400 souls.”

They leaned in close to Silva. “Do you deny this?”

Silva looked at the Accuser, matching his stare. “Before I answer your question, would you answer one of mine?”

Silva received another shock but this time was better prepared for it.

“You can shock me all day but you won’t get an answer from me until you answer my question.”

The Accuser was about to shock her again when the Arbitrator held up a hand to forestall it. They looked down at Silva with a inquisitive look. “What is your question, human?”

Relaxing slightly at not getting shocked again, Silva rolled her shoulders to stretch them out and looked at the onlookers.

“Is a human or Gillden more biologically perfect?”

The onlookers and Accuser laughed and even the slamming of the Arbitrator’s fist was not enough to silence them this time.

Floating in front of her again the Accuser looked down at her. “Gillden’s are clearly superior to humans.”

“And how do you know that?”

The Accuser looked at the human in puzzlement. “It is a simply a well know fact.”

“Do you have proof of it? Reliable sources”

The Accuser seemed unsure how to answer and coughed before attempting to regain the initiative.

“We are getting off topic now. I have answered your question now you mus-”

“But you haven’t.” Silva cut in, “You have answered my question with a statement supported by nothing but ones beliefs. Belief does not change the world around you. I could believe that I can fly and escape this prosecution but that does not make it fact nor will it change my situation. Therefore your belief that you are superior holds as much weight as your belief that I am guilty.”

The only sound to come from the Accuser was a series of starts and stops of replies of sentences of rebukes and counter arguments not being made and dying in his throat. Rather than say anything the Accuser reached for their pad and triggered a shock causing Silva to bend over again in pain.

When the shock finally stopped Silva coughed several times before spitting out a blotch of blood on to the podium.

“Is that how the Gillden do things?” she mockingly said. “When you are proven wrong by facts you seek to undermine those who have proven you wrong? Do facts mean nothing?!”

The Accuser was bristling in rage now.

“Since you seem so keen on facts let us bring up some.”

With a wave of his hand the holograms changed and showed footage of a crowded plaza near the market district. The footage was from a floating security drone that monitored the area so the quality was immaculate.

Out of the corner of the busy plaza came a large moving van. It came to a stop on the outskirts of the plaza and the drivers cab door opened just as the Accuser paused the video.

“That is you Ms. Torris is it not?”

“It is.” she confirmed as the video continued playing.

Hopping out of the van’s driver side door and approaching the back she slapped the side of the van three times and the back opened up. Two cargo bots stepped out carrying between them a strange metallic cylinder. Once it was set down Silva stepped forward and began twisting and turning several nobs on the device before leaving it and returning to the front of the van.

The two loader bots hopped back into the van as the back closed and the vehicle drove away leaving behind the strange device.

Several seconds passed and everything on camera appeared normal until an elderly Gillden collapsed to the ground near the cylinder. Those nearby rushed to their aide but upon getting within a foot of the collapsed Gillden they too began to spasm and collapse to the ground.

Spreading out from their like a wave as the seconds passed more and more of the people in the Plaza began to convulse and collapse to the ground clutching at themselves wildly. Some tried to grab their young and carry them to safety only to fall and crush them under their own weight.

In a matter of minutes the entire once bustling plaza was left littered with the bodies of the dead.

The Accuser turned back to face Silva. “The fact is that three days ago you entered the market district and unleashed a deadly chemical agent. Within the hour the entire district was sealed off as the contagion began to spread from person to person like fire and rages on even now.”

They glared down at her, her mask of disinterest all the more infuriating to him as he seemingly nailed her to the wall.

“Do you deny that it was you in the video who murdered those Gillden?”

Silva shook her head, but before the Accuser could pronounce her guilt she continued.

“That indeed was me in the video but it was not murder.”

Rounding on her in surprise the Accuser had to stop themselves from physically striking her.

“What else would you call such madness?!?”

She once again shrugged her shoulders.

“A scientific experiment.”

The Accuser’s mouth hung open in disbelief so Silva continued.

“For centuries the Gillden people have proclaimed themselves as you have just now to be the most supreme species in the entire universe. I put that question to the test with a common mutagenic from my homeworld and released it into your populace to study the results. I was unimpressed by the results.”

The calmness in which she casually described this horrific act shook everyone present to the core.

Wrongfully thinking she had correctly assumed the expressions of those around her Silva continued. “My first case was somewhat inconclusive as you interrupted me before I could finish gathering data so I prepared a second test to further disprove your superiority belief and replace it with hard facts.”

This was a surprise to all present. “What do you mean “second test”? Have you planted another device on our world?!?”

Silva shook her head. “This time I thought it best if I witnessed the results first hand.”

Before the Accuser could continue his line of questioning he felt his muscles begin to tense. His eyes began to become blurry and he wiped them away as he tried to focus. He looked down at his sleeve to see to his horror that it was smeared with his blood as his eyes became blurry once more.

Coughing and gurgling could be heard behind him and he turned to see the onlookers and even the Arbitrator General showing similar side effects as their eyes began to bleed and their muscles locked up. He saw the Arbitrator begin convulsing rapidly to the point they lost balance from their stand and fell into the great maw below them in a silent scream of horror.

The Accuser collapsed to their platform and nearly fell themselves before they grabbed hold of the edges. He looked up through blood clotting eyes to see Silva kneeling over him looking at him with an ponderous gaze.

“The chemical agent is neutral in liquid form,” she began calmly as if the Accusers dying gasps were nothing but a nuisance, “but once the liquid evaporates it becomes active and turns into an airborne agent. Frankly rather hard to design chemically but I would settle for nothing less for my experiments.

Silva slowly knelt down and drew her finger across the dried blood she had coughed up earlier. “It is amazing when one species is so completely immune to something they can even carry it in their body as if it was nothing more luggage.” She looked over at the Accuser with a look of disdain. “Your people really should have spent more time doing medical checks than beating me in prison.”

The Accuser attempted to make a lunge at her with one of his free arms but missed as his body suddenly convulsed. He lost his grip with his other hand and to his horror he could feel his body begin to fall into the gaping maw below.

“I guess you weren’t as superior as you thought.”

Silva’s final words to the Accuser rang out to him as the darkness of the maw swallowed him whole.

#HUMANS ARE WEIRD #humans are insane #humans are space orcs #humans are space oddities #scifi #story

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freckledmountain · 3 years

Text

Lulling comfort

By @freckledmountain for @romeoandjulietyouwish

Rating: Gen

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark

Characters: Peter Parker, Tony Stark

Summary:

"Music had gotten an entirely new meaning after that, from Disney songs to musicals to classic rock, and everything else in between. … He´d do anything to listen to Peter sing to them again."

Or, an AU where you hear whatever your platonic soulmate sings or hums! :D

For the @friendly-neighborhood-exchange

Read on Ao3

Chapter 1: Change

Some-

BODY ONCE TOLD ME

the WORLD IS GONNA ROLL ME

I AIN´T THE SHARPEST TOOL IN THE sHE-ED

Peter´s endearing screech and dramatics at the starting notes startles a fond laugh out of Tony, making DUM-E beep in curious surprise.

The bot has a screwdriver in his grasp and usually Tony´d chastise him for grabbing tools without permission (he has not forgotten the last lab incident, thank you) but right now he´s much too preoccupied resisting the urge to join in the kid´s slumber party via his own singing.

God bless karaoke.

Peter had looked sheepish when he´d mentioned it to him, the little get-together his scary girlfriend and Ned had planned this weekend at the latter´s place after a ridiculously long week of exams. Tony had absolutely no problem listening to his kid´s voice in his head, but it was still sweet of Peter to ask beforehand.

“You know I work best with music anyway.” He´d said, remembering all the times he´d listened to Peter perform dramatically to songs on the radio.

Peter´d hunched his shoulders a bit, smiling. “Yeah, okay, okay, I just wanted to make sure because Ned might ask me to duet to Take on me again, and last time I sang it you were on a meeting and FRIDAY sent me that video of you mouthing the words and Ms. Potts looked like the disappointed dad from that Shawn Mendes vine- “

…even if he had no idea what the kid was talking about sometimes.

He´d gasped and placed a hand to his chest, feigning offence. “Have you forgotten the time you had Call me maybe on loopin my head for an entire day?”

“…It was a dare?”

“Hmm” he´d said, raising an eyebrow playfully as Peter dissolved into laughter. “whatever you say, bud.”

His smile softens unconsciously at the memory as he methodically tweaks a few things in his nanotech suit, still listening to Peter belt out lyrics in his head. Truth be told, he misses the kid working alongside him like usual, but he knows how important spending time with his friends is to Peter.

(The parenting books say it´s imperative too, although of course he hasn´t ever read, purchased five on a whim or fret over anything of the sort. Obviously.)

He hopes Ned and Michelle´s respective other halves don´t mind the kids crooning 80´s rock on a Friday evening, but he guesses if they´re anything like them, they probably won´t complain. Soulmates are cool like that.

He remembers all the times Rhodey had told him about his soulmate´s voice inside his own head, how he´d suddenly perk up and grin at whatever melody he could hear, how he´d start humming randomly to join in.

Tony had grown up hearing nothing but his own treacherous thoughts for the longest time, almost losing hope completely at the possibility of having a soulmate right up until adulthood. Heavy metal music blasted over his speakers constantly whenever he was busy in his workshop, but he never joined in. There were moments when he´d thought his love for singing would be soured forever, since apparently the universe or whoever was in charge didn´t have a problem leaving him without someone out there to share it with him in his head.

Thankfully, he always did have Rhodey, and boycould he kick-start the fun in singing again with his flawless Mariah Carey impressions. He´d loved the few times he´d heard Pepper sing too, and there´d even been one memorable instance where he´d surprised Happy vocalizing in an unexpectedly pleasant lilt.

Hearing Peter sing though...simply put, there was nothing else like it.

-and we could aLL use a little changeeeeeeeEEE

…Yes, nothing was quite like it.

Tony shakes his head, smiling, and grabs his phone to text May about the kid´s shenanigans. She´d been more than a little concerned when Peter and him had figured out who the other was, (that was one heck of a superhero fundraiser) but now they´ve become much closer, and Tony can genuinely say they´re friends. He´s glad to have her on his side, because May Parker is, in Peter terms, a very kind powerhouse, and not someone he´d like to mess with.

He´s about to press send when the lights in the room flash red.

Tony´s up and summoning his gauntlet attentively in a second, right as FRIDAY pulls up screens around him, showing footage of the emergency.

“What am I looking at, FRI?”

“Around 30 heavily armed machines have emerged in Midtown Manhattan, boss.” She responds, as the room fills with projections. The robots on screen are huge and ugly as heck, about the width and height of three school buses together. They´re making their way through the streets surprisingly quickly for how heavy they look. People run away, steering clear of their illuminated blasts. “They appear to be releasing high frequency blasts approximately every ten seconds. Local police have just arrived at the scene and are requesting backup, since the blasts are causing structural damage to the surrounding buildings. The source of these machines is unknown.”

“Tell the team to suit up and meet me there.”

“They have already been alerted, boss, but I´ll relay your message as well.”

The rest of his suit materializes around him, and he makes haste to get to the nearest window, half worried and half downright annoyed at whoever was behind this.

“Another one for the robot bingo card on means of world domination.” He says to himself, unimpressed. Just one week without this crap…

He soars above the sky nonetheless, blasting his way towards the fight.

Please stay put kid, he wishes, even as the singing stops.

---

Three blocks.

He´s three blocks away from where Peter is making his way back when it happens.

As big and fast as the robots are, Tony can tell they weren´t exactly made by the finest of the loons who regularly try to take over New York. Not to mention they´re absolutely appalling to look at, whoever designed these things had absolutely no taste, Tony thinks, crushing his twenty-second bot with the suit´s repulsors. It hasn´t exactly been easy, since the wretched machines have no real apparent motive but to blow up everything in their path, but within an hour it seems they´re done with the worst of it.

He can see Nat and Wanda dealing with the remains of one of the last ones below, while a little way away Cap´s talking with a few cops, scoping out the damage. Even though the air is permeated with smoke and there´s rubble in some places, there are no casualties, and they´ve thankfully emptied out the buildings that got wrecked. SHIELD will take care of the rest.

He flies over the skyscrapers, keeping an eye out for any other bots, but it seems like FRIDAY´s finished identifying all of them. He activates a private line on the comms to talk to Peter.

“Done securing the area from whatever that disastrous colour scheme was?”

He can hear Peter´s good-natured groan as his location pops up on Tony´s screen, six blocks away.

“I know, right? I can wear mismatched socks for a week and rock them no problem, but blue with like, eye-melting neon? Yikes.”

“Exactamundo. Couldn´t agree with you more, kid. But hey, it looks like you might actually be able to get back to your sleepover after all. Can´t wait to hear what alarming chorus is going to keep me up until midnight.”

“Oh you just wait, we´re doing ABBA next and it´s gonna be so-“

FRIDAY tears through the conversation with an alarm, but it´s precious seconds too late.

A gasp. An abrupt thud resounding through the comms. A scream. Peter´s.

Tony´s blood freezes in his veins.

“Peter? Peter!?”

He gets there in less than a minute and sees one of the bots with its blaster pointed at Peter, still smoking from the shot.

He obliterates it without a second thought, his mind swirling with fear and rejection at FRIDAY´s next words as he runs towards Spiderman´s crumbled figure.

“No heartbeat detected, boss”.

Chapter 2

The first time he´d ever heard Peter´s voice, he´d been running on three hours of sleep, a frankly heart-attack inducing dose of caffeine, and no motivation whatsoever to sit down with stuffy board members for five hours.

It didn´t exactly come as a surprise that for the first few milliseconds of the “Itsy bitsy spider” chant in his head he´d thought, confusingly, that it might just have been his mind finally resorting to the resurface of old nursery rhymes as a way to tell him to go the frick to sleep.

His heart however, was another matter.

As ridiculous and improbable as it sounded, a new something in his chest rose even before he knew what was happening. He might not have been a machine, but something slowly and irrevocably clicked into place the more he heard that gentle voice go on about water spouts and suns.

He´d stopped short in realization. Blinked.

And then smiled wide enough to lose himself in the mirth of it.

He´d run back to his workshop right after that, laughing like mad with the absolute mayhem of emotions coursing through his whole being, almost crashing into Pepper in the process. She´d looked back at him in concern, questions already forming in her lips, before Tony had frantically mimed at her to keep quiet, wanting to listen to the soft voice´s final notes.

Once the song finished, Tony may or may not have let out a loud shriek of sheer joy and told an increasingly delighted Pepper all about it, practically bursting with excitement.

“Pep! Wait, what do I do now!? Do I- Do I sing it back to him? Do I sing another- crap I don´t even know any children´s songs, JARVIS, JARVIS!”

In the end he´d had to phone Rhodey to yell the news ecstatically to him, because he´d just found maybe the universe hadn´t wanted to screw him over after all, and he felt like screaming it from the rooftops. The little voice was sweet and shy and boyish and happy, and about the best thing Tony had heard in his damn life. He couldn´t have contained himself if he´d tried, and heck if he was going to any time soon.

(“Tones, what- “

“Rhodey!”

“…was that you or a screech owl.”

“It happened! There´s- a little kid! Somewhere! Spiders! My soulmate!”

“The- wait what-? “)

Music had gotten an entirely new meaning after that, from Disney songs to musicals to classic rock, and everything else in between.

…

He´d do anything to listen to Peter sing to them again.

Burning.

He´s burning all over.

Screaming in pain, he tries to escape from the scorching heat, but it´s everywhere, it´s everything, he´s the pain, he´s the fire, everything hurts-

And then as soon as it appears, the pain is gone.

He opens his eyes, blinking woozily.

“Oh, thank God.”

His vision blurs all over for a minute. There´s dampness in the corners, left over from tears.

Tears?

He makes an attempt to sit up, but there´s a hand holding his shoulder gently. He blinks again.

Tries to decipher his surroundings.

He´s laying down in a mostly deserted, grubby looking street. A figure kneels close to him, some sort of red and gold robot type thing. He narrows his eyes at it, trying to figure out why it feels so familiar…but finds, to a detached kind of surprise, that he can´t.

He has no idea what happened.

The robot seems to be very relieved for some reason, just staring up at the sky for a couple of seconds, taking a deep, wheezy breath.

Even with his head feeling like wet cotton, he looks at him with concern. The robot sounds seconds away from fainting. Is he…alright?

When the robot´s face opens and a man´s head peeps out (cool!), he almost jumps back in surprise.

And then…

Well. He still doesn´t have a clue who this person is, but as soon as he sees the man´s expression of utter joy and relief, something inside him settles. Safe.

He blinks in confusion at the feeling. He knows this person. He does.

But who is he?

“Pete? You´re back bud. Do you feel okay?” The man´s (man? robot? man-robot? cyborg? figment of his imagination?) smile fades slightly, looking at him in worry. “FRIDAY” Friday? Who on earth is he talking to? “didn´t you say the CPR made his vitals-“

“I´m- I´m fine” he says, because enormous confusion aside, he is. Maybe his head is scrambled, and he feels exhausted, but he has a feeling he´s been in worse shape before.

A feeling.

The man (he´s decided on man) starts going on about robots, and getting him to a tower with someone called Dr. Cho, but all he can do is blink back, his confusion increasing.

“I´m really sorry” he interrupts, knowing he´s probably going to disappoint the man, but needing to push forward even so, “who- who are you? Are you-? “

He tries to put a word on the feeling seeing the man´s face had evoked in him before, tries to remember who he is or what he has to do with the man or why he feels so…safe. So safe. With him there, even with all the questions going round and round inside his head.

“Are you my dad?”

The man´s face stills. For a second, it looks like his brain short-circuits.

Mood, a thought rings out in his head, unbidden.

That´s when he hears it.

A huge metallic…thing coming through the street towards them, and he doesn´t know why but it makes his heart thump like a rabbit´s in a cage, and suddenly he gets a flash of remembering pain, and he knows these machines, these machines are dangerous, and what if the man gets hurt too-

He pushes the man behind him as he desperately tries to look for somewhere they can hide-

-but the man grabs his hand first and hurries them both towards the sturdiest-looking car on the street, crouching so they´re out of sight.

“Uh, alright. I- this must be really weird for you, but it´ll be okay. Just stay here for now, ´kay? I´ll- We´ll figure this out. You with me?” The man holds his gaze for a second, and it´s so sincere, he finds himself nodding.

The man smiles. “Okay. Give me a sec.” And then he gets up and turns towards the robot.

What the-what´s he doing!?

He reaches out clumsily to drag him back, but the man´s face gets obscured by his robot mask once more and he…

Flies?

The frick? He thinks in bewilderment, as he sees the man lift off and attack the robot with blasts coming from his hands. My maybe-dad can fly!?

Either he lives in a sci-fi novel, or he´s going absolutely nuts.

Could be both at this point, frankly.

The whiz of gold and red fighting the robot is almost quicker than his sight can keep up with, but he persists, looking out anxiously for any opening the robot might have to take the man down so he can try to warn him about it. There is none though, the robot might be exceedingly fast, but the man remains unyielding. He takes another look at the giant machine and sees it´s blaster-

And then it´s like someone takes his brain and shakes it around everywhere, and the throbbing is so sudden he kneels and clutches his head tightly to keep it from falling apart. His thoughts feel shattered and tampered with, and the pain-

He cries out in agony, and tears fill his eyes again.

The man! I have to look out for him!

He tries to listen to the fight again, but just as he tries to focus in on it it´s like a tsunami of yells and police sirens and voices washes over him, and noise, why is there so much noise-

Overwhelmed, he kneels until his forehead touches the grainy concrete, and wishes he would just pass out.

He doesn´t, though.

Among the oversaturated ocean of noise, one adds to the mix.

Except this one isn´t grating. This one doesn´t make everything seem like too much.

Because it feels like it´s coming from within himself.

He´s at a loss for what´s happening, but the voice slowly and lightly blocks out all the other noise, grounding him in a gentle tune. In a flash, he recognizes the song. He knows where he heard it last.

Mr Stark.

And he remembers.

“Kid? What are you doing up?”

He shrugs, sinking deeper into the couch cushions. Baby Tarzan laughs onscreen.

He half expects Mr Stark to push him for more details, but he seems to understand Peter´s not in a talking mood and walks up to him solemnly.

“Scoot.”

He does, and Mr Stark plops down next to him, wordlessly extending his arms out in invitation. Peter falls into the hug gratefully and sighs. Exhaustion pulls down on his bones, but he´d rather not get back to the nightmare he woke up from. Mr Stark snorts softly at something in the movie, and then they both jump a bit at the sudden loud gorilla roar. They keep watching the movie, and Peter´s curls are brushed back gently in a soothing motion.

He wants to sleep. But he can´t.

But he´s safe here, isn´t he?

His chest grows heavier as he thinks of the dream, and when he blinks, his eyelids dampen. He hasn´t shed a tear yet, but Mr Stark must sense something again because his hand at Peter´s hair stills.

And then he starts singing.

It´s a lulling comfort, and Peter melts into the embrace, allowing his tired eyes some rest.

He´s safe.

Come stop your crying

It will be alright

Just take my hand

Hold it tight

I will protect you

From all around you

I will be here

Don't you cry

He´s safe.

With a final shot from Iron man´s repulsors, the robot powers down, and Peter runs out to meet Mr Stark, almost crushing his ribs in a hug.

“Woah, woah!” The helmet´s visor pulls up, revealing a grinning Tony. “Did that actually work? FRIDAY told me you were freaking out and I thought it might help calm you down.” He says, hugging him back. “But it did more than that, didn´t it?”

Peter´s too relieved to do anything but nod happily into his shoulder, but he gets the point across.

They stay there for a full minute, just holding on to each other. Until Tony grumbles out a “and I can´t believe you remembered Phil Collins before Iron man, seriously.” and Peter bursts out laughing, lightening the mood.

“The man didn´t sing that soundtrack in five languages for nothing, Mr Stark. It slaps.”

Tony hides his smile in Peter´s curls, and hugs him close.

#Writing #The friendly neighborhood exchange #WHOOO #irondad and spiderson #I love them #platonic soulmates

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allegra-writes · 4 years

Text

The Intervention

Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

General audiences

Warnings: none

The Request:

Peter and Reader hanging out at the compound. They fall asleep together and Tony finds them. They insist they are just friends but have feelings for each other, even if themselves don't know it yet.

Tony ships it.

For @sovereignparker

MY MASTERLIST

Tony Stark was at his wits end.

He, who had built the first iron man prototype in a cave, invented time travel, and pretty much single handedly defeated Thanos and his army, didn't know what to do. And it was all your fault. Well, yours and Peter's, actually.

At first it had been… kind of cute. Endearing. The way you both were so obvious yet so oblivious. You and Peter had grown really close after the blip, a little too close, in fact: Always hanging out together, watching movies or playing video games, or just doing nothing. Tony had never seen Peter spend that much time at the compound before. And he was sure you definitely didn't use to hang at the lab so much before either.

Then had came the most noticeable signs, like you wearing Peter's hoodies and Peter sporting one of your hair ties on his wrist. Peter's ringtone for you was "Uptown girl" for fucks sake! (some stupid punk-pop cover, cause his protegee had no taste apparently).

It had all reached its zenith during that mission in Bahrain, where the enemy had managed to land a solid one on the quinjet and the whole team had been stuck on land for the night. They had been forced to pile up in this cheap hostel, all six in the same room. And there were enough beds for everybody but you and Peter had started fighting over the top bed of the bunk and it had been vicious. Until you both had agreed to share it, that was.

Every single one of the Avengers had been convinced you guys were a couple after that, including Tony. But the thing was, Peter Parker was shit at lying. And he insisted you and him were just friends, and he did look like he was telling the truth. So Tony had started looking through the security cameras, watching hours and hours of footage of Peter and you together. Pepper had scolded him, telling him what a horrible invasion of his firstborn's privacy it was, but the thing was there was nothing private there: No making out, no pda, NOTHING. Not even pecks on cheeks or hand holding.

So he had resigned to the fact that you and underoos were completely platonic.

Strangely enough, he had felt… disappointed.

"That's not strange at all, Tony. You love Peter like a son. Y/n dating him would be the perfect way for him to officially become a part of this family" Damn Pepper and her way to psychoanalyze him.

"Yeah well, apparently, when I wanna do that," Pepper raised an eyebrow at his husband's use of 'when', not 'if', "I'm going to have to adopt him. Cause I have to do everything in this house!"

The redhead rolled her eyes and went back to her book, leaving Tony to his brooding, blissfully ignorant to the ideas already taking shape in the billionaire's mind.

But for the first time in his life, nothing Tony did seemed to work. He had tried sending you notes from a secret admirer, but you knew Peter's handwriting. He had tried pairing you both at galas and balls, but you both had disappeared with Harley and that crazy socialite Kate Bishop for an impromptu shooting competition. He had even tried locking the both of you in a closet, but since the vulture guy incident Peter had developed claustrophobia and a panic attack wasn't very inducive to romance. Steve had drawn the line at sending you undercover as a couple on a fake mission.

"He just doesn't want to lose the bet" Clint had told him. Tony was too afraid to ask.

That's why he wasn't even surprised to find the both of you, asleep together on the couch that sunday morning. Oh no, what he was, was completely fed up. He walked past you, straight into the kitchen where the rest of the team was having breakfast, like a man on a mission, standing in front of the coffee maker, capturing every one's attention. He turned around, meeting Rodhey's eye.

"It's time"

That was all he had to say for the Avengers to leave their plates and cups where they were and stand up, following the man of iron back into the living room. They formed a semicircle in front of the couch, with Tony standing tall (or as tall as a man who was 5'7 could stand while surrounded by gods and giants and supersoldiers) and assertive in the middle.

Peter's tingle must have sense something was amiss because the boy immediately stirred.

"Oh, hey, mister Stark" He greeted, rubbing his eyes, voice hoarse from sleep and low, obviously trying not to disturb you, "sorry, we must've fallen asleep watching the movie.."

"Cut the bullshit, kid" Tony interrupted, unsmiling and straight to business, "this is an intervention"

"Wh-what?"

"We care about you and y/n very much," Clint continued, not giving him time to react, "but we can't go on like this any longer"

"This situation is hurting all of us, especially yourself, kid" Cap took over. Whatever this thing was, they had obviously rehearsed it, "There comes a time in every boy's life when he has to stand and take responsibility of his feelings like a man"

"So this is us, giving you an ultimatum," Bruce chimed in, "either you tell y/n how you feel…"

"Or we do" Thor finished.

What. In the everloving. Fuck?

"Guys, we're not… it's not… I-I'm not" Peter sputtered helplessly, very aware of what a light sleeper you were and how awkward things between you could turn if you heard this conversation. You were even shier than he was, even though you hid it better, and he didn't want anything to ruin your friendship, you were too precious to him. "I am not in love with y/n!" He whisper-yelled at last.

Tony crossed his arms, turning defensive.

"Why not? Is my daughter not good enough for the amazing Spider-Man?"

"What? No- I mean yes, I mean…" Peter sighed, rubbing his face with the hand not wrapped around you, still keeping you close to his chest throughout that whole… intervention debacle, "Your daughter is brilliant, and kind and amazing, and with all do respect mister Stark, she… well, she's hot! But not like in an objectifying kind of way, more in a she's really beautiful and I'm not blind kind of way and I don't care what the press says she is perfect and any body who can't see it is either blind or an idiot. If anything, I am not enough for her, but even so, I still want to be by her side because she's… because I…" Peter's rambling came to a halt, the boys eyes opening wide in horrified realization, "... Oh my god, holly shit, I'm in love with her, aren't I?!"

A chorus of "finally" and "duh!" and "it was about god damned time" filled the living room, as Tony repressed the urge to roll his eyes and instead smiled kindly at the teenager holding his older daughter in his arms. He used to think that the day he saw something like that he would have felt dread, or anger, or at the very least protectiveness. But he felt nothing of the sort: he felt… calmed. He knew you were in good hands. Maybe that was what was making the difference.

He patted the boy on the shoulder,

"Glad we could have this talk, underoos. Come on, team, I feel like getting donuts for breakfast. To celebrate, you know? Let's go get the jet!"

The room got emptied as quick as it had been occupied, leaving Peter stunned, his head a whirlwind of emotions. He was in love. With his best friend. With the most perfect girl he had ever seen.

With a girl in fact so perfect, so out of his league, he might as well have been playing a different sport.

His heart sank into his stomach, killing most of the butterflies nesting there, and severely maiming the rest. He was screwed. There was no way you would like him back, just… none. He looked down, maybe your peaceful sleeping face could bring some calm to his disturbed brain, you usually had a soothing effect on his nerves.

But your face wasn't peaceful, or sleeping. No, you were looking back at him with a thousand different emotions flickering behind those pretty doe eyes of yours.

He closed his eyes, as if that alone could deny the reality of that moment, the moment his world was sure to fall apart.

"You heard all of that, didn't you?"

"Yeah," You murmured, voice catching slightly in your throat, "yeah I did"

"Great. Awesome" he pinched the bridge of his nose with his free hand. He didn't want to ask this, he really didn't. But he had to know the answer. "Now what?"

Frozen in place, he felt you crawl over his body, until you were nose to nose with him.

"Now? I think now… we kiss" You breathed against his lips.

His heart skipped a beat. Right before starting running, galloping wildly, like an untamed horse.

Yeah, he liked that idea...

The end.

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