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#mrs. america masterlist
multifandomfix · 1 year
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Gloria Steinem
Phyllis Schlafly
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bluehourbucky · 1 year
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My Mom Thinks You're Hot
pairing: beefy!bucky x singlemom!reader
summary: your son tries to set you up with an avenger in a grocery store
a/n: short drabble bc why not
masterlist
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Getting groceries might not be fun for most families but for you and your 6 year old son it's almost as fun as going to the park.
The store that you visit has small cart for kids which your son loves to push, making him feel like a big boy. It's absolutely adorable and you take a picture of him every time. You don't know how you got lucky that your son loves grocery shopping as most kids find it either boring or too stimulating which is completely normal.
"Mommy look it's Avengers cereal!"
As any other kid his age, he's obsessed with The Avengers.
"Yes it is and it's very cool but we already have cereal at home." his face falls and puts the cereal box back.
"Can we get it next time?"
"Of course honey." you chuckle when you see him do a little victory dance.
You were slowly but surely making your way through the grocery list, slowly because your son decided to stop in front every single Avengers food.
Now for your favourite.
Ice Cream.
You turn your head quickly when you hear your son squeal.
"MOMMY THE AVENGERS! CAPTAIN AMERICA! AND BUCKY!" He whisper yells
you look over to where he's pointing and it's true there stand Sam Willson and James Buchanan Barnes.
"Can we please say hi." he holds your hand and gives you his best puppy eyes. You give in since it's not every day you get to meet heroes.
"Hi! You're really cool!"
Two men look down at the 6 year old boy and smile.
"Hey champ,what's your name?" Captain America asks and crouches down to his eye level.
"That's such a cool name!"
"Thank you my mom chose it!" you immediately blush when both men look at you.
"Hi. We just wanted to say hi and uh thank you for saving the world and all that." you avoid looking at James Bucky Barnes because you might have a huge crush on him. Ever since you were a teen and studied for history you thought he was very handsome.
"All part of the job ma'am." Sam salutes you and you smile a little, he's the perfect Captain America.
"I have so many questions!"
"Honey, they are very busy we can't keep them all day. How about just one question for each of them? That's of course if you're okay with that." You look at two heroes,who reply with a nod
"Alright you heard your mom, what do you have."
He thinks so hard and finally asks.
"What's the name of your bird!?" Bucky bursts out laughing, that's not what he thought the boy would ask Sam. Your heart might have done a flip at the sound,you try to hide your face by looking at the floor.
"His name is Redwing."
"Well that's pretty boring why doesn't he have a cool name." At this the three of you laugh.
Sam looks mildly offended.
"What do you have for me?" Bucky asks and whatever he thought the boy would ask it certainly was not this.
"Mr Bucky sir - Do you have a girlfriend or boyfriend or partner? My mom thinks you're hot."
You immediately pull your son into you and cover his mouth. Bucky blushes deeply and so do you.
"Oh my god, I'm so sorry. We have to go right now." You're so embarrassed that you leave your full cart and go straight for the exit pulling your son by the arm.
"But he didn't answer the question." your son whines.
"We don't need to know that. That's a personal question you don't ask people!"
"Uh I don't mind answering that question." Buckys voice says and you stop in your tracks, you turn around but still avoid the eye contact.
"Really you don't have to!"
"I want to. And I'd like to ask a personal question too if that's okay with you of course?"
Your knees almost give out when you manage to make eye contact.
"No, I do not have a significant other. And I don't know how this works at this day and age, but I'd like to ask for your number,doll."
_____________________________________
some years later
"Thank you for coming guest's that I know and don't know. My mom is getting married to my dad! You should all be thanking me because I made that happen!"
You look at your now husband and smile.
Maybe it's not the way you thought you'd meet the love of your life but sure is a story your guests and son find very entertaining.
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myfictionaldreams · 6 months
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Day 26: Overstimulation - Steve Rogers
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Summary: It's the 1940's, and you're a dancer on the infamous USO tour showcasing Captain America. You're due on stage in 5 minutes, but Steve's too busy with his face between your legs.
Tags: 18+ readers only, smut, oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms, overstimulation, begging, exhaustion, innocent!Steve (kinda)
masterlist 📚 
kinktober masterlist😈 
AO3 Link 
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“We’re on in 5 minutes! I repeat, 5 minutes. Did you hear Mr Rogers?”
“Hmm? Yeah, 5 minutes, I heard!” Steve’s head perked up from between your legs, wetness coating his lips and chin as he shouted through the door to the stage hand.
Your body collapsed onto the desk, completely worn out. Eyes heavy, struggling to stay open, and lungs burning with how out of breath you were. “Please, I need to go and get ready; the girls will wonder where I am”.
Steve licked his lips and began to spread your thighs again, his hold hard enough to leave bruises behind as you sighed heavily, head falling back against the mirror. “Just one more; I know you can do it, then you’ll feel much better when you’re dancing baby”. His face descended to your cunt, tongue lapping at your already sensitive hole, his nose pushing and stroking against your engorged clit.
Steve had been at it for what felt like hours. You were one of the dancers on his USO tour across America, dancing and singing every night in a new city to sold-out crowds. You watched as the infamous Steve Rogers sold the bonds and punched fake Adolf Hilter in the face for the crowd's entertainment.
The tour had been going on for weeks as the war ravaged worldwide. Steve had kept to himself, appearing to be scared of any female that walked past him, let alone any of the dancers or singers on stage, even though he had hundreds of women ready to throw themselves at him.
You felt bad for him, the big superstar who sat lonely in his room every night, so you worked up the nerve to speak to him one day. He was sweet, attentive, and very innocent, and you quickly drew him out of his comfort zone. A few kisses and cuddles turned into more risque. He was a virgin when you first met him, and you were completely respectful of that, but after a few awkward fumbling, you decided to take charge and show him how to move, touch and feel, pleasuring both him and you.
The first time Steve made you cum, it was like a light bulb switched in his brain. He was obsessed. The more you taught him about your body, the more he would want to hear your sweet melodic sighs of euphoria, to the point that it was starting to interfere with your work.
Which brings you to today. You’d visited him in his little dressing room at the back of the theatre, intending to get his lunch and ended with your panties on the floor and skirt bunched around the waist and legs over his shoulders as he ate you out to perfection. Every suck and lick had your back bowing and fingers trembling to cover your mouth to stop those outside the door from hearing your multiple orgasms.
Your entire body felt like it was burning from the inside out. You were stuck between being wholly exhausted and wanting the moment never to end. Due to past experiences, you knew that Steve’s stamina was devastatingly good due to the super serum. Once, you’d fucked all night, and you couldn’t walk the following day and had to call in sick to the show, which Steve was pink-cheeked and apologetic for, forgetting just how fragile you were compared to him.
You were getting close to that point again, attempting to push against his shoulders weakly, knowing you should stop but not wanting him to because you were so close to your next orgasm. You weren’t sure how many you’d had; all you were aware of was that your pussy was plump from all the stimulation, your clit was throbbing to the point that Steve could feel your heartbeat against his tongue, and your hole ached from the number of times it had clenched and tightened.
“Just one more”, Steve had repeated so many times that you could hear him saying it in your lucid mind. Slumping back against the mirror, the pleasure built, his tongue lapping your juices and stroking your clit, plunging and twitching in your pussy as he held you down on his desk.
The waves of the orgasms throbbed through your entire body, your hands pulling at his hair to move him away from your pussy as you sat up, losing control for a second as your body tried to process the euphoria.
“You’re so beautiful, Doll. You’ve done so well for me”, Steve encouraged, his hands massaging your aching thighs as you tried to catch your breath. As the pulses in your cunt calmed, you leaned forward until your head rested against his shoulder, his arms moving around your hips as he cradled you close.
“I might need to cancel the show”, you say, trying to wiggle your toes but finding your limbs were slow in response.
Steve moved back slightly to look at your flushed face, “You know you can’t do that, Baby. You’re on your last warning. Sorry, I’ll try to stop doing this before shows; sometimes I just can’t help myself.”. He pecks your lips softly, and you lean into the touch and try to slow your breathing to calm your body.
A knock at the door disrupts the embrace, “We need you at the stage door in 1 minute!” The stagehand shouts through the door, and you refrain from groaning.
“Could you help me get dressed, please?”
“Of course!” Steve was as sweet as ever, finding your panties and shorts for your costume and helping to pull them back onto your trembling legs. When you tried to stand and straighten your skirt and top, your knees buckled, but thankfully, he caught you, holding you for a couple of seconds until you found your strength.
Looking in the mirror, you tried not to cringe at the streaks you’d left behind on the surface, and then there was your appearance, completely glazed-over expression, and hair a mess, but you didn’t have time to sort either. Rushing to the door, you cringed internally and how sensitive you felt between your legs and how uncomfortable it was to walk with your pussy slightly swollen.
Steve was behind you, opening the door to allow you to step out and rush to the curtain. Making sure no one else was around, you turned and leaned up to kiss him sweetly, “Break a leg.” you wished him luck before running to join the others, who all gave you exacerbated looks for nearly being late.
The show was nearly a disaster; your legs became heavy halfway through from exhaustion, but thankfully, Steve caught you, somehow managing to play it off as part of the play, catching the damsel before continuing with the show.
Your entire body was warm to the touch, and the bright overhead lights only worsened it. As you danced across the stage, you became increasingly more aware that your panties were drenched, your pussy still flowing with juices, to the point that you were worried it had leaked through your shorts for the audience to see.
By the end, your cheeks ached from fake smiling, and the muscles in your legs were burning to the point that you collapsed on the stairs as you exited the stage. You were exhausted, eyes hardly open as one of the girls asked if you were okay.
“Sweetheart? Are you coming down with something?” the show manager asked, but you waved everyone away.
“I’m fine; I just need to sleep”, you explained whilst thanking one of the other girls who had returned with a glass of water.
“What’s going on? Hey, are you okay?” Steve asked, pushing his way through the crowd. Your body heated even more as Steve’s eyes widened briefly before he tried to mask his reaction. It was evident in your contract that you were not allowed to form intimate relationships with the show's star, which of course was Steve, so whatever it was that you had with Steve had to stay hidden, even though you were sure everyone suspected it.
“Everything’s fine, Mr Rogers, she’s just cooling off”, the manager attempted to move his prize possession away, not wanting him to worry about any of the girls and push him back to his awaiting taxi.
“She doesn’t look fine; why don’t I take her to a doctor?” Steve suggested, lowering himself so that you were both eye to eye.
“She doesn’t need a doctor; she’s fine, aren’t you, sweetheart?” the manager tried to reassure, but you were too tired even to respond.
“Ok, let me rephrase this, I’m going to take her to a Doctor, now move out of my way”, Steve demanded, actually standing up to the manager for once as he slid one arm under your knee and the other supporting your back as he lifted you, your head rolling onto his shoulder.
You relaxed into the hold, the sway of it helping to lull you into a half-asleep state. Only when the two of you were alone in the taxi did you decide to speak finally. “I don’t need a doctor, I just need to sleep”.
“I know, baby. I just wanted to get you away from everyone. I’m sorry for going so hard earlier, and I’ll try and calm it down from now on”, Steve apologised, holding your body close to his as the taxi began to move towards the motel you were all staying at.
You grinned, tilting your face towards his, “I didn’t say you had to stop, Steve”.
His eyes flicked between your lips and eyes, a small smile forming on his handsome face. Giving you a quick kiss on your temple, the two of you relaxed into the embrace as you quietly fell asleep.
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marlenesluv · 1 month
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Bad Decisions. (LS)
Summary: After Logan isn’t able to compete in the Australian Grand Prix, his girlfriend shows everyone just how amazing he is. Which leads to a major turn of events.
Note: Used the indent feature instead of copy and pasting that arrow I usually use, lol. Hope you guys don’t mind too much, it’s much easier for me.
Warnings: None
Masterlist here -> Masterlist Link
^ Check my list for all posts! ^
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Liked by: logansargeant, lilymhe, and 67,139 others
y/n.user: he may not be able to race this weekend, but that just means he can hangout with me and lily in the garage and heckle the other drivers🙃
view comments…
alex_albon: do you heckle me??
y/n.user: not usually, but this weekend…maybe
alex_albon: ??????
user7: i love how supportive she isssss
logansargeant: i love you❤️
y/n.user: i love you too❤️😙
f1wags: williams has the BEST wags 🙏
ls2editsss: he’ll come back stronger next weekend💪
user3: CUTEST COUPLE EVER!!!!!
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。
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Liked by: y/n.user, oscarpiastri, and 104,194 others
logansargeant: disappointing weekend. but at least i have my girl ❤️
view comments…
y/n.user: lo🥺
logansargeant: 🙃❤️
y/n.user: ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
f1editpage: awwww, they are so soft
oscarpiastri: sorry about this weekend mate. next week will be better👏
*liked by creator*
user1: loveee their love
alex_albon: i owe you😣
y/n.user: alr. give it back.
lilymhe: AHHHAHAHAHAHA
alex_albon: 😐
wagpagee: y/n is sooo angelic
user6: anyone else find it weird that like the whole grid follows y/n and not logan?
user2: i guess, but y/n has been friends with lily since they were little🤷‍♀️
user6: eh so?
user2: well lily and alex have been together for around 5 years, so she’s been around the paddock for 5 years instead of the 1 logan has
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。
twitter:
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.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。
your instagram story:
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seen by: logansargeant, landonorris, and 46,924 others
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。
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Liked by: logansargeant, flavy.barla, and 68,902 others
Tagged: logansargeant
y/n.user: appreciation post for my my favorite person in the whole world, my own personal captain america❤️🤍💙 i love you, logan. thank you for being the best boyfriend, best friend, and person ever❣️
view comments…
f1wags: well, that’ll do it. the waterworks, oh my🥹
logansargeant: don’t make me cry right now. i’ll make you mrs. sargeant
y/n.user: 😳
logansargeant: unmmm shit
y/n.user: i would say yes. just saying 🤷‍♀️
user6: she would WHAT
flavy.barla: this is so cute and all, but the comments? you married now, girl?
y/n.user: not yet😞 i’ll lyk
flavy.barla: 🙏💓
oscarpiastri: excuse me? logan? answer your PHONE??
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。
your instagram story:
(psa, this is 2 weeks later!)
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seen by: logansargeant, danielricciardo, and 178,294 others
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。
twitter:
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.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。
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Liked by: oscarpiastri, lilymhe, and 301,185 others
logansargeant & y/n.user: We liked each other and put on a ring on it 💍❤️ And finally got Logan in a race car that had a chassis 🙃😉
view comments…
lilymhe: congratulations guys!!!💓
f1wags: AWWW STOP
user8: this wasn’t on my 2024 bingo card, but i am so here for it
alex_albon: funny joke y/n😐 but congratulations!!!!!
oscarpiastri: not sure why you guys waited so long
lilyzneimer: you’re talking?
y/n.user: aw shit, you tell him lily👏
lilyzneimer: thank you, congratulations btw❣️
*liked by y/n.user*
user3: mother and father🙏😮‍💨
landonorris: CONGRATSSSSS
maxverstappen1: congratulations! p wants to be the flower girl, i told her i would ask…don’t feel obligated
y/n.user: 🥹tell p yes. she’s the cutest ever
logansargeant: im the cutest ever. but ok
scottjames31: you will soon learn that once you’re married, you aren’t the cutest anymore and kids come first
logansargeant: 😐
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。
(reposts, comments, and likes are appreciated ^-^)
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adventuringblind · 2 months
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American Sweetheart
Logan Sargeant x Reader
Genre: Fluff and Crack
Summary: Max isn't sure about this new American rookie on the grid. Not that he isn't nice, just that he likes Max's baby sister. Featuring Lestappen being a married couple.
Warnings: Protective Max, sarcastically protective Daniel, Logan being a SIMP
Notes: Yay! Logan Fluff! I've not written for Logan yet, but I honestly love him... He's such a pookie...
Side Note: My requests are still open! If you've sent in a request, please remember I do this for fun and will try to get around to it when I can :)
Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi
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Max looks at her with big pleading eyes. "Please tell me who it is?" He pouts, sticking out his bottom lip.
"No, because you'll torture him. I'd like to keep this one alive thank you." She puts the finishing touches on her makeup.
"I left the last one alive... barely, but that's not the point!"
"So if I tell you, then you won't freak out?"
"I swear it on my career-"
"It's Logan."
Max goes silent. Frozen in place as her tries to comprehend her words. The death stare at the ground tells her he's internally screaming.
She sighs, mildly worried that Max might actually scream profanities until Logan arrives. "Alright, what's your issue with this one?"
"He's American!"
She groans. It doesn't matter much where he's from, as long as he treats her right. Logan's been struggling since he came to the grid. It would make a difference if max accepted him and not just Oscar and Lando, by proxy.
"Give him a chance, please? For me?"
Max stars at her for longer than necessary. "Fine."
~~~~~
Logan appears at her door dressed in semi-formal attire. He takes in her appearance. "You look - wow..." There is a light blush on his face. It feels nice seeing as she's in something simple and modest. Just what she had to work with given she's living out of her suitcase.
They catch up on the paddock drama and how life has been going recently. Logan is a proper gentleman the entire time. She's not sure why she thought he would be any different. Logan has always been sweet to anyone he comes in contact with.
Their date goes incredibly well.
As does the second.
And the third...
Max stares at her as she sits in his room, giggling at her phone. She has no time to react as he snatches it from her hands. "Logan?! You're still talking to him?!"
She huffs and crosses her arms. "Yes, Max, I like him."
"He's American." He tosses the phone back at her. "Just let me talk to him." Max gives her puppy eyes. "Please."
"You can talk to him whenever, but if you ruin this for me, I'll break your wrists."
Max makes it his personal mission to figure out Logan through not talking to him. She has taking to simply rolling her eyes as Max drags Daniel around with him to stare at the poor boy.
Until he catches them in the paddock together and puts on the 'Mad Max' face. Logan immediately seems to shrink in on himself.
"Okay Sargeant, it's time you and I had a little discussion about your intentions with my sister." Max hauls him upwards by his bicep and Logan goes willingly like an injured puppy.
She throws him a reassuring smile and pray to Charles Leclerc that Max doesn't scare him away.
~~~~~
Max and Daniel sit across the table from Logan. He thought asking her out would be the hardest part. No, he was mistaken, this is far worse.
The Dutch has been staring daggers at him since they sat down. Daniel keeps wiggling his eyebrows like her knows something Logan doesn't. Which - despite it seeming playful - only puts Logan more on edge than he was before.
"So, Mr. America-"
"Is that really-"
"Quiet! I'm the one doing the talking here."
Logan wants to roll his eyes. He wants to run into next year if it means avoiding this conversation. "Look Max-"
"I need to know you aren't going to americanify my sister." He points an accusatory finger between Logan's eyes.
Logan reels, and Daniel finally breaks all composure. The Aussie is laughing hysterically. "Mate, what does that even mean?!"
"Look, your American ways are not ours. I will not be seeing her calling things like American football, real football."
Logan sinks into his chair. The relief evident on his face.
He's about to jump into a spiel about how he would never expect her to just assimilate into his culture. That was never his plan. However, he's doesn't get the chance.
A figure dressed in Ferrari red comes stomping around the corner. "Max Emilian!" Charles screams out for anyone to hear.
Max shrinks in on himself. Daniel is almost falling out of his chair as Charles stomps his way over. "Why are we interrogating the poor boy?" He crosses his arms like an exasperated mother.
"Because my sister-"
"Your sister was in my room pacing and ranting that you were going to scare away another boyfriend."
Max has a look of shame on his face. Cheeks flushed red with embarrassment. "But Charlie-"
"Nope. Not gonna work. Let's go." Charles grabs Max by the bicep and drags him away. The Dutch pouts until he's out of sight.
Logan looks at Daniel, who's finally calmed down. "Are they-?"
"Married? Yes, for like two years now. They are still convinced nobody knows." Daniel leans forward in his chair, and Logan once again is left feeling intimidated. "But seriously, kid, she's a good person. Max has always been protective over his sisters because of their home life. Just treat her right, yeah? She deserves it."
Daniel sends Logan off with an encouraging pat on the shoulder. He's never run away from something so fast before. Not out of fear, no, he just needs to see her. Reassure the female that Max is less intimidating when Charles is around.
He finds her pacing outside of Williams' hospitality. Logan runs right up to her, picks her up in his arms, and spins her around.
"I take it Max was nice to you?"
"Your brother is an interesting character, but nothing would stop me from loving you."
She blushes profusely. "You love me?"
Logan rests his forhead against hers. He can't wipe the smile off his face when he looks at her. "Of course I do! And nobody is going to stop me from feeling the way I do."
She hastily lands her lips onto Logan's , not caring about who's around to see. It's just them in their own little world.
She pulls away just enough to whisper against his lips. "I love you too, Lo."
Logan has never been happier than in this moment with her in his arms and Max screeching in the distance.
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lovelybucky1 · 7 months
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Special Request
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Kinktober Day 2- Anal Sex
warnings: AFAB!reader, anal sex, anal toys, sex work, pre-established scene, unprotected sex, creampies, f!masturbation, 18+ minors dni
main masterlist
kinktober masterlist
being a call girl for the richest businessmen in america was a high profile job. not only was desertion and privacy required of you, you were also expected to keep up with your clients’ sexual desires.
most of them were tame, not requiring too much physicality. most of them wanted to worship you. unsurprisingly, powerful men like to be submissive in the bedroom. it didn’t take much work on your end to lay back and let them put their hands and mouth on you, occasionally giving praise and direction that made their cocks leak.
one client, however, stands out from the rest. he is very dominant and demanding. when you first met him, he made his desires clear to you.
“when i’m paying you, i own you. i dont care if you have other clients or a husband or a kid. when you’re with me, i’m the only thing you think about. before each session i’ll give you a list of things to prepare and give you money if you have to buy anything. then you’ll come here at 5:15 to set up and be ready for me when i get home from work. i’ve given the security guards notice that you’ll be coming and they’ll let you in. i will tip very generously for your services, but if that is not enough incentive to keep up with my needs, we will part ways.”
you agreed to his terms and since then, things with mr. fischer have been wonderful. he does, in fact, tip very generously, but that is nothing compared to how he is in bed.
he expects obedience but will also occasionally instruct you to disobey so he can punish you. he gets off on power and control, and he makes sure to constantly display both of those with you.
he texted you two days ago sending details about tonight’s session. he was short and to the point as always.
red lace. buttplug- brand new, never been used. dark makeup. i want you stretched and prepped with the plug when i get there.
along with the message he sent $40 for the plug he wanted you to buy. later that day you went out to the sex shop and bought one you thought he’d like. now, robert was going to be home any minute and you’re dressed and prepped exactly how he wants.
“front door open,” the robotic voice from the security system announces.
you tremble slightly in anticipation as you hear his shined shoes click on the hardwood stairs. you left the door to the bedroom open per his request. he made it clear that you’re a toy for him to use, not his wife preparing a cheeky surprise.
mr fischer has a lot of hang ups, but he pays well and has a wonderful cock, so you put up with it.
he walks through the door and lets out a deep sigh when he sees you. though you’re face down on the bed, you hear the familiar rustling of his clothes and can picture what he’s doing behind you perfectly.
he’s loosened his tie and unclipped his cuff links, placing them on the dish on the dresser. then he shrugs his suit jacket off and drapes it over the chair he likes to watch you from occasionally. you can’t hear his steps on the carpeted floor, so his cool hand on your ass makes you jump.
“hello, sir,” you greet him. he says nothing in return.
his thumbs trace over the lace edges of your panties, taking in the scarlet color that he loves so much. he then begins to knead your ass cheeks, digging fingers into your soft flesh hard enough to bruise. without warning, he brings his hand back and spanks you, the slap ringing through the bedroom. you successfully stifle your whimper.
clearly not in the mood for foreplay, robert grabs the waistband of your panties and tugs them down so they gather at the crook of your knees. you chose a cheeky pair of panties, wanting something that will hide the base of the plug until they’re completely off.
from behind you, robert lets out a low groan. you chose a silver plug with a red jewel that glitters in the dim light of the bedroom. he pushes on the base with his thumb, watching you take it deeper before it moves back out when he takes away the pressure.
while you would like to be talked to, you understand that this is mr. fischer’s stress relief. he’s pent up from a long week at work, but once he’s closer to cumming, he won’t be able to shut up.
robert grasps the end of the plug and slowly pulls it out. he waits until the widest part of the plug is stretching you before pushing it back in. he repeats this, slowly fucking you with the bulb and watching as your cunt drips.
mercifully, he pulls the plug out and tosses it to the floor. it makes a faint thud, then you hear the sound of a zipper. robert slaps his cock on your right cheek, leaving a sticky patch of precum behind. he spits on your hole and pushes his blunt head against it.
he doesn't ask if you're ready or give any warning before he starts to push in. despite wearing a plug, there is still a bit of a stretch. he goes slow, but unrelenting. once he's fully seated inside you, he grabs you by the hips and uses his hold as leverage to fuck you.
"tight fuckin' ass," he groans.
the slow drag of his cock inside you makes your toes curl. you know he isn't doing this for your benefit, for your pleasure, but in some way, that makes you enjoy it more. he's using you like a fleshlight, just a warm hole to stick his dick in.
lewd squelches come from behind you as he fucks into you, using you for his own pleasure. his cock stimulates your g-spot from a different angle than you’re used to and it makes you dizzy, abdomen burning with need.
“you’re so fucking good,” he says, thrusting harder.
you try not to make noise, wanting to be a perfect toy for him, but it’s hard to suppress the whines he’s punching out of you.
“who owns this ass?” he asks, giving you a spank.
“you do, sir,” you whine.
speak when spoken to is the rule he likes you to follow. and when you do speak, you must use a title showing your respect.
“i’m gonna cum in you, honey. fill you ‘til you’re fucking dripping with it.”
robert loves to cum inside. to him, it’s the final display of ownership during sex. after a few hard, rough thrusts, robert’s cock twitches and the first spurts of cum fill you.
“fuck,” he hisses through his teeth.
he pulls your hips flush against yours and moves you onto him, pushing and pulling rapidly to milk his cock dry.
it was over too quickly for your liking, but he’s not paying you to cum on his cock. you’re here for his pleasure and nothing else.
robert stays inside you for a few moments to catch his breath, then he pulls out slowly, careful not to let any cum escape. he then picks up the plug from the floor, wipes it off on his suit pants, and slides it back into you.
“good girl,” he says, tapping your ass as a single to sit up.
robert beings to undress fully in front of you, but there isn’t anything sexual about it besides his enticing body. he isn’t putting on a show for you.
he leaves his expensive suit in a crumple on the floor, uncaring that it will get wrinkled. his dry cleaner will make it neat again, and if not, he can buy ten more just like it as a replacement.
“i’m gonna go shower. money’s on the dresser. feel free to get yourself off before you go.” he says casually.
he walks out of the bedroom and into the master bathroom. you watch his ass until your vision is obstructed by the door.
you sigh and scoot up the bed to bury your face in his pillow, inhaling the masculine scent of aftershave and shampoo.
you slide your hand down your front and begin to rub your clit. you wish, just once, he’d request a longer session. one where he fucks you thoroughly and makes you cum repeatedly before the night is through.
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buckrecs · 1 year
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2023 𝙗𝙪𝙘𝙠𝙮 𝙗𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙚𝙨 𝙛𝙞𝙘 𝙧𝙚𝙘 3
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masterlist | ✨- fav fics | status - completed
All of them are COMPLETE Series.
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1. Galavano by @ichorai
Bucky x Reader
a series that follows the hero galvano through the events of the mcu!
2. Time (D)rift by @darkficsyouneveraskedfor
Dark!Bucky x Reader Apocalypse AU
The end has come and gone as you keep waiting for your own.
3. Uncontrollable by @fictional-affairs
Bucky x Widow!Reader
The year is 1992. The Winter Soldier is under HYDRA’s control, and the Red Widow is under Dreykov’s control, but when they find out their organizations are working together to have them kill each other, they decide to make a deal.
4. The Lake House by @rustytricycle
Dark!Bucky x Dark!Reader
You decide to spend the summer before Freshman year of college with two of your girlfriends at one of their parents’ lake house. It turns out that Captain America and his two best friends are staying next door. Bucky thinks you might be his perfect girl. But are you too perfect?
5. turn a blind eye by @sergeantxrogers
Bucky x Reader
The Winter Soldier was cold. Brutal. Unflinching. A machine formulated to comply. Bucky Barnes was the sun warming your skin, your happy pill. Loving him was like bittersweet liquor, sickeningly sweet when you sip, harsh and burning when you swallow.
6. Rooftop Sessions by @forever-rogue
Bucky x Therapist!Reader
Y/N is a therapist that works with war veterans that ends up meeting a mysterious stranger who asks for her help.
7. it’s all fun and games, until you catch feelings by @prettyyoungtragedy
Bucky x Reader
You’re pining after Steve and Bucky is pining after Nat, what better way to distract yourself from those two perfect humans than to distract yourselves with each other?! Fuck buddies it is then.
8. oh my delightful heart by @prettyyoungtragedy
Sequel to it’s all fun and games
Bucky Barnes is the sweetest dumbest most adoring boyfriend any girl could ever ask for... 
9. Follow My Lead by @ciarawritesmarvel ✨
Bucky x Reader
You and your new friend Wanda are enjoying a day together at the Avengers Tower, her giving you a tour around the place when you both run into the infamous Bucky Barnes. Moments later, he’s introducing you to Sam as his girlfriend and placing a kiss on your temple and you’re not sure you’ve ever been so confused in your life.
10. The Maid of Mr. Barnes by @disasterofastory
Mob!Bucky x Reader
You get a job as Mr. Barnes's maid. You heard about the notorious gangster, but since you desperately need money and a place to live, you are not in a position to be picky.
11. Guiding Light by @wkemeup ✨
Bucky x Avenger!Reader
It was supposed to be a simple mission. Get the intel and go home. Until everything goes wrong and you’re taken captive by Hydra. While you struggle to stay alive and hold your sanity, Bucky begins to lose himself to a darkness and gives into the soldier because he doesn’t know how to breathe without you. Not until he brings you home. If he even can.
12. Home | Better by @softlyspector ✨
Bucky x Reader Modern AU
Bucky comes home from his second tour overseas, after a long time away from the reader.
13. Mad For You by @i-am-a-closet-fanfic-fiend
Bucky x Reader Modern AU
Nat hosts a costume masquerade. Bucky meets the Alice to his Hatter. Shenanigans ensue. 
14. Sanguis Sanguinis Mei by @captainscanadian
Vampire!Bucky x Vampire!Reader
It took Bucky Barnes two centuries with the blood of his blood to realize how much he loved her. This is their story. 
15. Another World by @sinner-as-saint
Alien!Bucky x Reader
In a futuristic world - a millennium from now, you and your team rescue and care for stranded and hurt otherworldly beings; who are held captive and kept on Earth against their wills. You save them from the bad guys who exploit them. You help them adjust to your planet’s life, and give them their freedom back. Then one day, while on a rescue mission, you come across a human-like extraterrestrial being; in a cryogenic chamber, with a missing arm. And nothing is ever the same again…
16. Picking Up The Pieces by @gogolucky13
Bucky x Reader Modern AU
Bucky chooses to stay in his tumultuous relationship knowing you’ll be there to pick up the pieces, until finally you’re not.
17. Knight In Rusty Armor by @revengingbarnes ✨
Knight!Alpha!Bucky x Queen!Omega!Reader
For the sake of politics and to get rid of you, their omega daughter, the King and Queen of England marry you off to the King of France. Settling into an unfamiliar monarchy is a tedious process all by itself, but a new problem arises soon after your arrival at your new home. One of the Knights turns out to be your true mate. Your Alpha. The one you are meant to be with. But you’re mated to someone else. And that someone else is the King of France.
18. The Escaped Bride by @marvelouslytrekking
Pirate!Bucky x Reader
Being forced to marry someone was not something you wanted, but when it turns out that it is to your best friend, who you secretly loved, things weren’t so bad. Unfortunately, good things don’t seem to last and when the worst happens, you refuse to sit around and be miserable. Will you find true love again, or will your life be turned upside down?
19. Plot Twist by @winterarmyy
Mafia!Bucky x Reader
An arranged marriage with mafia!bucky.
20. The Road Goes Ever On and On by @rocketrhap3000 ✨
Bucky x Single Mom!Reader
Life as a single mother of a three year old certainly has its struggles. But when a sweet stranger makes his way into you and your little boy’s life, a one of a kind connection sparks.
21. you’re my desire by @marvelouslizzie & @notafunkiller
40s!Bucky x Reader
Your best friend drags you out on a double date. You were supposed to be Steve Rogers’ date but plans change pretty quickly and you end up in Bucky Barnes’ arms.
22. Death Do Us Part by @sgtjbuccky ✨
God Of Death!Bucky x Mortal!Reader
For centuries, the God of Death had known two things about mortals. One, they were his job, his to collect when their days came to an end, and two, they were obnoxiously odd beings. Their purpose ceased to make sense to him. Never did he understand why they created a life for themselves, why they loved, why they loved other mortals when they knew that none of it would last forever. It was nothing but sheer stupidity, but that was until he met you. A mortal unlike any other. A mortal that would make him question everything. A mortal that would teach the God of Death how to live.
23. Lost In Each Other by @majestyeverlasting ✨
Dad!Bucky x Mom!Reader
For Bucky, one of the best things to come home to is family. Especially after a day at work. So he's pleasantly surprised when you want to show him a new dress after dinner one night. And it just so happens that little Eden and Jamie find a way to work themselves into the equation. But it all makes for good fun and memories you will never forget.
24. Fight For Me by @littleseasiren
Bucky x Reader
After years in an abusive relationship, you finally get out. When the Avengers decide to raise awareness for your Battered Women's Home, you bump into Bucky Barnes, the hottest, most complicated man you've ever met. He thinks you're too good for him, but when your abusive ex reappears, Bucky knows he has to keep you safe - by any means necessary.
25. call me baby by @cherryrogers ✨
Biker!Bucky x Reader
Returning to Brooklyn for the summer after a year of travelling from city to city, you hadn’t expected to find your best friend, Peggy Carter, hopelessly in love with a biker, and when she decided to introduce you to the rest of his club, you hadn’t expected to fall for one either — that was until you met one with pretty eyes and a habit of calling you baby.
26. Static Verse by @theconstantsidekick ✨
Bucky x Enhanced!Reader
Tony Stark's sister's a fucking badass, codename—Static. Here's her story through the MCU.
27. Bygone by @borntobewondering
Bucky x Reader
You and Peter get sent back in time, and you fall in love with someone unexpected.
28. Clockwork by @aries-writingblog ✨
Bucky x Reader
Bucky has moved on. He’s found a place in the new world of the 21st Century. Found peace. But the past is always half a step behind him, waiting to snatch him backwards- like clockwork.
29. Deny the truth, set the world on fire by @lizatill
Bucky x Reader, Dark!Winter Soldier x Reader
He knew that she was having an affair...she denies, but the love marks on her body are still there. She can't tell him the truth, it will break him - the Winter Soldier is indeed inside of him, fucking her at night and Bucky doesn't remember.
30. Carnations by @viollettes
Bucky x Reader College AU
It’s a simple concept: Students can buy flowers for each other at the carnation sale. Red flowers are for love, pink flowers are for friendship, and white flowers are for expressing secret admiration. A carnation fundraiser, an iota of possibility, and a longtime secret crush on your hot best friend - what could go wrong?
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1K notes · View notes
imtryingbuck · 3 months
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Eighteen part two
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Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader
Summary: Bucky comes from a well respected family, he falls in love with a girl who prefers the simple things in life. Follow their journey through the years.
Word count: 2,240
Warnings: fluff, angst, heavy use of pet names.
A/N: No description of reader other than she has curly hair.
A/N pt 2: when I saw the duck tattoo I screamed, no joke I screamed! Make sure you have a look it’s so bloody cute!
Masterlist   Series Masterlist
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They spent the rest of the night and early hours of the morning apologising, promising to make up for their mistakes. All three guys crying when she told them how much they had broken her heart, the guilt still there front row and centre but she promised them that it was all forgiven.
Steve and Sam had begged for forgiveness for not being there for her but she reassured them that all was forgiven, that it was time to move on.
Even though all three of them had hurt her and they hadn’t done anything to help her when she needed at least one of them the most, she had forgiven them. She missed them more than anything, they were the other part of her fractured soul.
She didn’t want to hold any grudges against them.
For a whole month Y/n caught up with her boys, caused mayhem just as they did a few years ago.
It was as if nothing had changed.
They didn’t understand what was happening when they showed up to Howard’s and Maria’s house to take Y/n out for the day when she opened the door where they could see two suitcases by her side.
“Bun? You’re leaving again?”
“Yeah only for two months, going to travel with Nat and Wanda. Isn’t that so exciting?” She smiles.
“Yeah, yeah how come you didn’t tell us?”
“I was a bit busy catching up with you guys…”
“Is it going to be just you three?”
“No Pietro, Clint and Vis are coming too”
“Who’s Clint and Vis?”
“Clint’s Natasha’s boyfriend and Vis is Wanda’s”
“Will you be coming back?” Steve asked.
“Yeah of course, then I’ll start my new job. I can’t wait”
“What job?”
“You know Mr Stan? Well he’s given me a job as his accountant”
“I’m so proud of you Bun”
“Thanks Duck-“
“Y/n come on love we’ve got to go” Maria interrupts as she checks over the plane ticket and double checking that Y/n had enough money.
“Okay momma, give me a hug then boys”
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For the two next two months Bucky was out of his mind. He wouldn’t sit still for long periods at a time. He had gotten a taste of the happiness he had for years, went without for three years and then he got it back just for it to leave with Y/n once again.
“Buck she’ll be home in a few days”
“It’s been too long man”
“Are you going to tell her?” Sam asks.
“Tell her what?”
“That you’re madly, hopelessly in love with her?” 
“No I’m not!”
“Yeah right and I’m Captain America” Steve snorted from the kitchen.
“I’m not in love with Bunny. And plus she’s got a boyfriend and I’m seeing…shit what’s her name?”
Sam burst out laughing, nearly sliding off the chair and Steve shook his head “Lily, Bucky her names Lily”
“Yeah I’m seeing Lily”
“How’s that going Buck?” Sam says as he calms down.
“Great, it’s going great”
“Bullshit she told Sarah that when you two fucked you kept calling her Y/n.”
“No he didn’t!” Steve gasped. Between me and you he already knew.
“Yeah and it’s pretty much the same with every girl he’s slept with, he calls them Y/n’s name” okay Steve hadn’t heard that before.
“Fuck off man, it’s not been with all of them” Bucky weakly tries to defend himself, again just between me and you what he just said was a big fat lie.
“L to the I to the A right down to the R, guess what that spells Buck… liar.”
“Shut up.”
“Oh and plus you have a bunny tattoo on your chest” It was true. On Bucky’s eighteenth birthday he went to the tattoo studio to get his first ever tattoo, he saw it in the book as he flipped through it halting his movements as he saw the cute bunny. It was a lot smaller but he asked the tattooist if he could have it bigger which the guy said yeah, Bucky had him also add the small love heart.
Over the year he got a few more added to his body but his bunny that sat just over his heart was his favourite of them all.
“Don’t mean I’m in love with her”
“Yes. Yes it does.”
“No. No it doesn’t.”
“Steve help me out here man” Sam begs.
“I’m not getting involved. But Bucky your in love with Y/n/n”
Groaning Bucky stands up “fuck you both I’m going out to see Lucy”
“Lily!”
“Yeah her, bye”
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“I’m sorry Y/n” Pietro says wiping her tears.
“No it’s okay, I understand honestly”
“I just don’t want to hurt you baby”
“I know Pieface just don’t die please and please be safe”
Laughing sadly at the nickname she had given him he nods with a promise that he’ll be safe.
“I do love you Y/n/n”
“I love you too Pietro”
Giving one final long hug they separate from one another, she watches as he walks through the doors to the airport wiping her fallen tears she smiles and waves at him as he looks back at her, giggles fall from her lips as he pulls a funny face to her.
“Won’t you be able to see him in a few months?” Wanda asks softly.
Shaking her head Y/n shrugs “h-he broke up with me”
“You what?”
“Yeah, he said he doesn’t want to hold me back and wants me to live my life whilst he’s away”
Pietro had told her a few weeks before coming back home that he signed up for the Army and had been accepted. Though he did love her he didn’t want her staying at home worrying about him, he wanted her to experience life and who knows when he got back they could rekindle their relationship, though Pietro knew it was unlikely. He knew that Y/n loved him but he also knew that she was in love with Bucky, and for him there was no way he was going to get in the way of her happiness even if that wasn’t with him and to be truthful he was okay with it.
“Y/n/n I’m sorry”
“Don’t be, it’s fine honestly. Let’s go home I’m missing my bed.”
“I still can’t believe you’re not coming to college with us” Nat says as she pulls on her seatbelt yanking it a little to hard when it gets stuck.
“I know but it’s just not for me you know”
“It’s not going to be the same” Wanda says.
“I guess but you two can’t get another me to add in to your friendship group or I’ll cry”
“Definitely not happening, if another female tries to be our friend we’ll kick them” Nat says seriously.
“Don’t kick them Jesus that’s a bit harsh, just say “no you can’t be our friend because we already have the bestest one” but please don’t kick them”
“I’m kicking them”
Saying her goodbyes as she’s dropped off at home her eyes start to sting with the amount of tears she’s cried. They all promise that they’ll meet up as soon as they can.
As she tells her parents of her adventures and shows them all the photos she had taken, she hands them their gifts.
“You didn’t have to get us anything angel” Howard says loving the pyramid paperweight she had gotten him.
“Alright I’ll take them back”
“Touch it and I’ll bite you”
Gasping she looks at her mom “momma did you just hear what he said?”
“I did sweetie but I have to agree your not taking these back” admiring the snow globe she had gotten, already knowing exactly where it was going, adding it to the collection she had been collecting since she was twenty.
“Where’s Antonio?”
“I’ve told you time and time again not to call me that, hey baby sis” hugging his sister he checks the bag for his gift.
“It’s not in there Tone, it’s outside”
“What have you gotten me?”
“A car”
“Holy shit! Really? I knew there was a reason why I kept you around”
“Yep come on” Her, Tony, Howard and Maria make their way outside.
“Whe-what the hell is this Y/n?”
“A car” she laughs along with her parents as Tony picks up a toy car off the ground. “I brought you a car”
“You’re such a little shit!” He laughs along. “Oh nice new tat”
“Cheers”
“You got another one?” Maria asks wanting to see it.
“Yeah it’s a turtle his names Sid, isn’t he cute?”
“Sid?” Howard questions.
“Yeah, we went to a sea life centre and we got to meet Sid the turtle, so naturally I had to add him to the collection”
“Obviously” Tony rolls his eyes.
“Anyway I’m going to go to the boy’s apartment and give them their gifts see you later”
“Be careful!” Maria calls out.
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Panting as she knocks on the door she nearly collapses into Sam’s arms when he opens the door.
“Jesus Y/n, Holy shit guys Y/n’s back!”
“I can taste blood in my mouth is-is that normal?” She asks.
“Are you alright?”
“No Samuel I’m not alright I’ve just walked up a trillion stairs just to get here! Why do you have to live so far up?”
“It’s easier when the elevator works” he grins.
“Hey Y/n/n” Steve says hugging her.
“Hi Stevie”
The three of them hear hurried footsteps coming towards them and when they look they see Bucky rushing down the hallway “shit, Bunny you’re back! I nearly fell in the shower trying to rush to get out” he pants pulling her into a bone crushing hug.
“I-I-I’m sorry but…Ducky…”
“What’s up Bun?” He follows her eye line and he’s realised his mistake. In his rush he managed to pull on some shorts but no shirt.
Meaning that she can see the bunny tattoo.
And unbeknownst to either one, they don’t realise that Sam and Steve have their eyes trained on the tattoo she has on the top of her spine.
“That’s a bunny” she points of the obvious.
“Yeah, yeah it is”
“Why?”
“For you”
“When did you get it done?”
“On my eighteenth birthday”
“And it’s for me?” Watching as he nods “can I?” He nods again to the unspoken part of her question, his skin tingles as she reaches out and runs her fingers over the delicate lines.
“Oh Duck it’s beautiful”
“Your hiding your own little secret aren’t you Y/n” Sam smiles.
“What are they talking about Bun?”
“I-um-I got this done on my eighteenth birthday” she says turning in his hold to show him her tattoo.
“Bun, it’s us. Can I?” It’s her turn to nod at his unspoken words she gasps lightly when his cold fingers trace the lines, he’s so mesmerised by the details and polka dots that he simply couldn’t stop touching it. “Bun it’s so beautiful”
“It was my first tattoo, obviously”
“So was mine”
“I actually feel really left out” Sam admits wrapping his arms around Steve’s “Stevie they don’t love us”
“That’s not true because-“ she rolls her sleeves up to her elbows and shows them the tattoos she had gotten for them ‘♡ S.R ♡ ♡ S.W ♡’ with a love heart on the top of her forearms. Not batting an eye at the scars the two boys lean in as Bucky leans over her shoulder.
“Who’s who?” Sam grins “but Y/n you actually got our initials tattooed on you?”
“Your obviously SR idiot and yeah of course I did, these were my second tattoos”
“B-but we weren’t friends at the time” Steve says as he eyes the long jagged scars.
“Well you three were a massive parts of my life and the reason why I got the duck and bunny on my back was because Bucky was the first person to see the scars once they where heeled and he never once judged me so”
“Y/n…”
“Anyways you want your presents, I’m like Santa but less cool” she moves out of Bucky’s hold and makes her way over to her bag and started to pull out the gifts, laughing as Sam stands there with his eyes closed and hands out stretched. Steve shakes his head at the guy.
Bucky, well his eyes are trained on his Bunny.
He knew he was in love with her since he was fourteen and now he wonders if she feels the same. 
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“So how’s you and Peter doing?” Bucky asks as they wait for Steve and Sam to come back with the pizzas.
“Pietro, and he broke up with me”
“What? Why?”
“He joined the Army and he said he didn’t want me to be waiting around on him, that it wasn’t fair for him to do that to me so yeah”
“Bun I’m sorry”
“It’s okay, I actually understand why he did it you know? And there’s no hard feelings about it.”
When the boys got back laughter filled the apartment as the boys filled her in on what they had been up to during them two months she wasn’t with them and her telling them about her adventures.
It was way past midnight when Sam stretched and looked over at Y/n and Bucky curled up on the couch fast asleep.
“Steve, how long you think she’s been in love with him?” He whispered so he wouldn’t wake the pair up.
“I think just as long as he’s been with her”
And Steve was right.
<Previous   Next>
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mrs-illyrian-baby · 7 months
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The Old Gods and The New - Chapter 1
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Rules to Follow | Loki x Reader
The Avengers bring you to the compound after a series of odd events draws their attention. Life seems to be looking up, until your abilities start to show again.
Chapter warnings: 18+ for implied sexual content, false/medical imprisonment
Series Masterlist
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The cold, bleak conference room was a welcome balm against the uproar of the last two days. 
You weren't sure how it happened. One minute you were furious, staring down from the balcony of your flat, anger bubbling through your veins. And then you were watching a row of cars burn in the car park below. 
Maybe you would've gotten away with it if the weather was bad. If less people had been around. If it hadn't gone viral on TikTok. If it was the first time you'd done something weird. 
It wasn't unusual for people to have strange powers, not anymore, but there were certain rules to follow. Rules that included not setting cars on fire and frightening passersby. Rules your grandfather had set about staying in the flat and controlling your emotions, taking your medicine and laying low. 
A hand snapped in front of your face.
“Okay kid, spill. What are you?” Tony asked. 
“Uhm, I’m not anything at all?”
“No, come on. Setting shit on fire, what’s that?”
“Monster, alien or wizard?” Sam piped up.
“I swear to god Samuel quit it with that,” a pen flew across the room with surprising accuracy and embedded itself in the wall behind Sam’s head.
You’d seen them on TV, the Falcon and the Winter Soldier, Captain America, Black Widow, Hulk, Vision, Scarlet Witch and Iron Man. It’d be cool if you had any idea why you were here.
“Mr Stark. I didn’t even know I was doing it until it was too late. I don't know how it happens, but I promise I’m not a threat. It wasn't deliberate, you have to believe me." Your voice wavered, tears pooling in your tired eyes.
“Tony, let her sleep. She can use the spare room on our floor. We’ll keep an eye on her”
“Thank you Mr Rogers” you choked, wiping your eyes.
“Steve, please” his face was soft, reassuring.
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It took an hour to find you something proper to wear.
A day to get your room fixed up, belongings brought from your little flat in London and new furniture procured
A week before you ate with the team, although you watched them from a safe distance. 
A month before you really spoke to anyone. Eventually they called in a therapist. 
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The compound was nice, spacious and modern. There was no work to do, like at your grandfather's flat, just lots of questions that left you tired and disoriented. 
Lauren the therapist was the only person you'd really communicated with, even though you were sure she was relaying the information back to the Avengers anyway. 
"So from what I can tell, she's around twenty five to thirty." Lauren addressed the room, taking in the gathered Avengers. "The details of her life are very hazy, she lived in that flat you visited, Steve, with her Grandad. I know she cared for him and he died some months ago leaving her the flat in his will. She takes medication every day." Laura turned to Bruce "I hope the few I managed to pass on were helpful, so you can refill her script when she needs it." 
"That's the thing," Bruce said, "I can't work out what she's been taking. I've had FRIDAY take scans and vitals, asked Dr Cho, there doesn't seem to be anything wrong with her." 
"Because she takes her pills?" 
"No, Steve, there's just - there's nothing wrong with her. Her temperature is a little elevated. But that's it, not a dangerous amount. I'd just say she runs warmer."
"So what's in the pills?" Tony asked, leaning over Bruce to look in the manilla file he had spread open on the table. 
"If I didn't know better I'd say something alien."
"But you do know better…" Tony prompted. 
"Adgardian maybe? But in a bottle from her local pharmacy. The name on the bottle’s been scratched off and I couldn’t find anything like this on any pharmacy database."
Tony and Steve turned to Natasha and she nodded. She'd not been able to find anything either.  No phone, no social media, home schooled. Sam suggested they do it the ‘old fashioned way’ and started to encourage Lauren to bring the woman out of her room to spend time with the others in hopes she would make more friends and let more information out.
As you spent more time with the group they found you brought a strange sense of calm, arguments stopped as you approached the table, worries about missions faded away. They even spent more time together as a team organising movie nights and parties, sitting together and being more tactile.
That’s when things started to get very strange.
The old evening routine of everyone slinking off to their bedrooms had been replaced by an easy comradery and then a fizzle of excitement started to build. The music seemed muffled and even Steve and Bucky’s heads felt fuzzy, drunk.
“Let's play spin the bottle!” You declared, downing your beer and lining it up on the coffee table. Before anyone else could fully agree you had flicked the bottle, everyone watched it slow until it came to a stop in front of Wanda.
“You girls don’t have to kiss if you don’t want to,” Steve said. But you shook your head. 
“I don’t mind if Wanda doesn’t… I like girls too and it's just a game, right?” you shrugged.
You leaned over and kissed Wanda quickly on the lips, noting the frisson of tension that built when you pulled away. 
Sam went next, “your lucky night,” he laughed before pulling you in for a kiss. 
The next spin was Natasha and somehow no one was surprised when it landed on you again. Natasha leaned in close but, before her lips could meet yours, you tilted your head to whisper in her ear, “I know there’s someone else you want to kiss, you don’t have to." Natasha blushed, but pressed a warm kiss to your lips anyway.  
“Did you rig this bottle?” Steve asked, picking it up before spinning. You, again.
Bucky put his hand on the bottle. “I wonder who” he laughed, but you had noticed his eyes move across the circle to the red headed assassin. 
As he leaned in for the inevitable kiss you put your hand up, hiding your mouths, “she’s a good kisser,” the words were out before you could stop them. Bucky pulled back, frowning.
“Who?”
You didn't answer, but your eyes danced across the circle to Natasha, studying Bucky's face as he followed the line of your sight. With their eyes locked you placed a chaste kiss on Bucky’s cheek.
You felt dizzy, only two beers in, but your head was swimming. The rest of the group weren’t fairing any better, both girls falling asleep and the boys nodding back against the sofa. Quietly you removed yourself from the pile of blankets and slunk back to your room. You hadn’t meant to say any of that, but you could feel it deeply, so deeply the words had bubbled out before you could swallow them back down. 
That night your sleep troubled you, the room was too warm making you sweat and writhe in the sheets and dreams of the Avengers flashing behind your closed eyes. 
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The next morning no one could make eye contact, each team member focusing on their coffee or toast, eyes down.
When you sat down the same static spark of electricity seemed to move over the kitchen island, making everyone squirm and move in their seats.
Eventually Wanda completed the group, walking in red faced and nervous as she looked around the kitchen before visibly relaxing.
“Oh, we all had the same dream!” She exclaimed “I don’t feel so bad now.” She said, cheerily. 
“Wan, you’re not meant to read our minds,” Natasha protested, covering her ears as if that would make any difference at all. 
“Can we not talk about it,” Bucky grumbled, looking away from Natasha.
“But you slept, Bucky, isn’t that good?” At least Wanda was happy, you felt hot and sick “you didn’t have a nightmare like usual, you had the same …”
“Enough,” he snapped, slamming his spoon into his bowl a little too hard, milk splashing on the spotless counters. 
“Your dream was different though,” Wanda put a hand on your temple despite your attempt to squirm away, “yeah, yours was very different. And so was yours,” She pointed at Natasha who looked over to Bucky without thinking.
Wanda squeaked, a hand over her mouth “But Bucky, yours was just like…”
“Thats enough, ” Steve stood hands on the counter, “we need to figure out whatever is going on here,” everyone looked away blushing as he crossed his arms, Captain America voice in full effect. “For goodness sake, I’m going to speak to Bruce.” 
Steve stormed out and a rush of air moved across the island as everyone breathed out. Wanda let out an awkward laugh, head down so she wouldn't catch the eye of her teammates and left the room. 
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After that incredibly awkward breakfast you began to pull away from the more open group spaces and started to spend a lot of time in the lab with Bruce while he tried to synthesise your medication. The small unlabeled tube of pills one of Stark’s assistants had packed for you was now empty. But all Bruce had been able to discover was a heavy sedative.
“You shouldn’t have even been able to walk around taking something that strong." He took his glasses off to rub a hand over his face, the fatigue of a sleepless night of experiments catching up to him, "you feel okay now?”
“Yeah”
“But you’re an inch taller than yesterday you said?”
“I’m an inch taller than I was this morning.”
Bruce rubbed his hand on his face, dangling his glasses from the other hand.
“Okay, walk me through what happened again”
“So I sat next to Captain Rodgers and Sergeant Barnes in the kitchen and when I stood up I was an inch taller, I could tell because my jeans were too short.”
“That’s not how growing works,” Bruce took a seat beside you and huffed out a breath. 
“I know that I’m not doing it on purpose”
For the last few days you had been slowly growing the trait of anyone you were in close contact with. It was unnerving everyone, looking up and seeing their eyes glowing back, or their hair colour tinged in highlights around your face. But worse still was that there was no clear explanation, none that you could or would give. 
It wasn’t the only change the team had noticed. Wanda, Nat, Sam, Steve and Bucky spent the most time together and they had all spent the most time alone together with you. But after only a few days they refused to even enter a room if you were there, prefering to skirt around the edges or take a different route.  
They couldn’t forget the night when they played spin the bottle, in fact they had thrown away all the beer of the same brand and there had been no more team evenings suggested. 
When you were alone with them a tension seemed to fill in the air. Steve had shifted your training rotation so that no one was ever left alone in the gym with you. Sam admitted you’d almost kissed last time you were alone and, red faced, Wanda agreed. Natasha and Bucky had also blushed, looking at each other out of the corners of their eyes. They complained that you kept trying to make them stand next to each other, and had even locked them into a cupboard 'by accident’ while pretending that you were unable to find the key until Steve freed them.
You couldn’t seem to control the feeling either, a primal urge inside of you growing the longer you were without your tablets. Growling and clawing until you had to excuse yourself and take a handful of the sleeping pills Bruce had given you. 
Wanda admitted, as you escaped the building tension for the last time, that this was when her dreams were the most extreme and everyone nodded along. Their nights filled with vivid, primal scenes, moaning and panting, the touch and taste of another filling their senses. 
And, though you could hear them talking about you, you could never admit that your dreams were different, that you saw yourself orchestrating their dreams like a puppet master, like a god and you’d wake in a cold sweat. 
Frightened, they placed you in the medical wing, a secure room with two way mirrors, sound proofing and, most importantly, a lock. Bruce told you that it was somewhere safe, where you could withdraw from the medication that was dwindling in the little orange bottle. But Tony was relieved that the team could relax now without you around. 
Alone, you took another sedative and rolled over in your plastic bed, under the thin sheet, and cried. 
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The last time the team had met someone who had so easily got inside them and changed their dynamic, they had ended up with an alien invasion. Steve was sure you weren’t in control, thinking about your embarrassment and desperation when Bucky and Natasha were locked in the cupboard, how quickly you left the room whenever the conversation became heated. He was sure, sure , you were safe, that it was just a side effect of whatever you’d been taking all these years and that given time everything would go back to normal. 
Tony, however, was taking no chances. 
“We need to call Thor.” He suggested as they watched you through the mirror, you were reading a book and running your finger over your lip as you concentrated. With each pass of your finger your lips changed colour, working through shades of pink and red. 
“What can Thor do?” Bruce had had enough stress for one month, thank you very much, and was much happier handing out medication until they could find somewhere else to send you. All he needed to do was refine some samples and he’d be able to remake your medication and then he could give Fury the go ahead to have you moved. 
“He can bring Loki,” Tony said, jumping up to sit on the tall lab counter and tossing a few blueberries into his mouth. 
Bruce looked over at him, one eyebrow raised. “Is that a good idea? The man’s mad.”
“I don’t want to see him anymore than you do. But they could help us figure out if this is magic like them, or a mutation, or if…it’s something else. Then you can pack her off to whichever medical facility you think is appropriate.” Tony waved his hand around in the air as if to demonstrate the unknown fears they all shared. “She shape shifts, Bruce. Loki can do that. And the manipulating thoughts and feelings? Maybe she can learn to control it. We need her to control herself and maybe, maybe , if we’re nice enough, she’ll want to help us too.”
“Do we really want Loki to teach her that, how do we know we can trust him?” Bruce cringed, thinking of the havoc the man had wrought, even if he was being manipulated. Loki was powerful, who knew what he could achieve with a little planning. 
“Thor can help keep him in line,” Tony seemed confident and although his confidence was often catching, Bruce still felt the deep simmer of apprehension sitting low in his gut. 
“At least we’re not fighting like last time,” Bruce sighed heavily, the memory of his last encounter with Loki still fresh in his mind. 
“No, but the sexual tension is killing me. We need to end this.” Tony laughed, thinking back to the red faces of his colleagues and their lack of enthusiasm when he suggested they get drunk and play spin the bottle again. 
“Okay, fine, Tony, you win. Call Thor.” Bruce sighed, leaning forward onto the counter and resting his head in his hands.
“And Loki?”
“And Loki."
<;< Masterlist
Part 2>>
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tommydarlings · 1 year
Text
Pour it out | a.b
pairing: husband!austin x wife!reader
warnings: none
w/c: 1.1k
summary: At Jimmy fallon's infamous tonight show, a lot of interesting and funny answers get told, but not all the questions.
check this out: my masterlist <3 // my ko-fi to support me! <3 // my PayPal to support me! <3 // my Patreon to become a member! (get access to +20 works) // Save a Life carrd made by me! <3 
“Okay, so this is how it works!” Jimmy suddenly spoke up as soon as the audience stopped clapping for you. After a few seconds of admiring the amount of people that came to see you tonight, you looked at jimmy standing right across your standing figure.
He went on explaining the game, “Each shot sits on a coaster, which has a personal question written on it, okay?” you nodded, raising your eyebrows while you tried to figure what´s in these little shots. 
“You will read the question silently but you will give your answer out loud.” he said. “And then you have to choose whether to share what the question was or you can take the shot and keep it a secret.” he finished off, eyes now on you instead of the camera which is showing all of this on live television. 
You nodded and smiled before jimmy spoke up again, “You must reveal at least one question during the course of the game.” 
“Oh okay, got it.” you told him. 
“So, tonight America is finally gonna get all the answers from me and y/n Butler, just not all the questions.” He laughed before the audience and you joined his tiny fit of laughter. “You ready Mrs. Butler?” he asked you with a grin as he turned his body towards his line of small shots. 
“I am ready Mr. Fallon!” clapping your hands together as you took a good look at your line of shots, furrowing your brows at the colours of them. 
“Alright y/n, you go first.” jimmy told you before you grabbed the round card made out of wood from beneath your shot, telling the audience and jimmy the name of the shot. 
You silently read the question in your head, furrowing your brows as a smile crept up on your face, jimmy and the audience already chuckling at your reaction to the question.
“Alright, So I’ll just answer it.” You asked the host with a smile. Jimmy immediately nodded his head, “exactly.” You bit your lip before answering the question that everybody was desperate to know,
“Vanessa Hudgens.”
Some people in the audience gasped as you tried to make out what jimmy was thinking about right now.
“Like in THE Vanessa hudgens, your husband’s ex girlfriend?” He quietly asked you, probably not a hundred percent sure if you are comfortable talking about this on live television.
After putting the wooden card back down onto the small table, you nodded, “yep.”
He thought about it for a few more seconds before he spoke up, “Are you gonna take the shot?” Pointing his pointer finger at your small, red shot.
“I feel like I can actually reveal the question.” You said right before the audience started cheering, jimmy raised his brows.
“Really?”
“Yeah.” You told him as you picked the wooden card back up and told everybody your question.
“Which one of Austin’s exes do you like the most?”
The audience clapped while jimmy smiled and nodded along.
“Alright! My turn.” He claimed loudly as he picked his card up and answered,
“Michael Jordan.”
You furrowed your brows before you started to laugh, “what?” You asked him as the audience laughed along.
“Okay, look! I’m gonna do it just like you and reveal the question.” Jimmy loudly told everybody with a smile, picking his wooden card back up and reading the question, this time, out loud,
“Who was your worst kiss.” And you immediately started to laugh, just like the audience — clapping your hands together while jimmy desperately tried to explain everything.
“So! I met Michael Jordan on this charity event a few years ago and we greeted each other, like shaking our hands and then leaned in to kiss each other on the cheek.” Jimmy started to explain his answer while you tried to hide your laugh, covering your mouth with your hands.
“And I leaned in to kiss his left cheek but he leaned in to kiss my right cheek and then it… happened, yeah.” Jimmy finished with a chuckle, realising that this story is really weird.
After your small laughing fit, you picked your second card up, biting your lip as your eyes ran over the words writing on the small, hard wood.
“You have reveal at least one of these-, Oh wait, no! You’ve already revealed the first one so you don’t have to reveal that one anymore but… I would.” He said, shrugging his shoulders as the audience laughed along.
“I-, oh no, no, no, absolutely not! I cannot reveal this question.” You quickly told him, wiggling your pointer fingers from side to side as you did so.
“You cannot?” Jimmy gasped dramatically. You shook your head,
“No, definitely not but I can tell you the answer tho and the answer to this question is — yes, '68 comeback special suit.” You proudly teased the crowd and Jimmy.
“'68 Comeback special suit… like, the leather suit that Austin wore on the set of Elvis?” He asked you with a grin but you only shrugged with your shoulders before you drowned the blue shot.
“Alright!” Jimmy yelled through the big studio while the audience clapped, “I guess y/n really doesn’t wanna reveal the question.” He exclaimed before he picked his second card up and answered after everybody stopped clapping,
“Howard stern's house.” He muttered. With an open mouth, you tilted your head to the side but weren’t able to ask the host anything before he already picked his tiny shot up and also threw it down his throat.
“What?” You responded as the audience clapped once again. Jimmy sighed and put his shot glass down again before he looked up at you,
“You don’t wanna know, believe me.” Everybody laughed at Jimmy's statement before he spoke up again,
“Okay, last shot, it’s your turn y/n.” He stated before you picked your last wooden card up and read the question silently.
You smiled brightly, chuckling before you answered your question.
“Okay, well… I would say at least five times a week.” you gulped as jimmy smirked in your direction, probably already having a tiny clue about what your question could be.
He chuckled in a loud tone, “And what would Austin say?” The host teased you before the crown started to clap again.
You turned around and tried to hide your smile, biting your lip as you did so before you put the card down and quickly grabbed the last shot. Jimmy quickly reacted,
“Oh no, please tell us y/n!” He laughed but you only shook your head and put the shot glass back down onto the small table.
“Never.” You answered in a quiet tone, smirking as you did so.
You were pretty sure that most people already knew what question you got based on your answer but you still couldn’t say it.
Like Jimmy said, America’s gonna get all the answer's but not all the questions.
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lives-in-midgard · 5 months
Text
🎄Afternoon Cuddles
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Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader
Summary: Steve comes back home from a mission and you decide to spend the afternoon cuddling.
Word Count: 500
A/N: Hey everyone! This is part of my Fluffcember and I hope you like this! 💖This prompt reminds me of a Chris Evans fic I wrote this year. Click here if you want to check it out as well.
Divider made my @saradika.
Prompt 7: Cuddles, kisses, hot chocolate
(prompt from @buckys-wintersoldier)
Masterlist | Fluffcember Masterlist
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Steve has been on a mission for three weeks and that day he finally came home. It was his last mission for the year. Steve made sure he didn’t have to go there anymore so he could spend Christmas season with you. Steve called you the day before and told you that he was on his way home. You missed Steve very much and you are so happy to have him back home. While Steve was away you decorated the apartment with some Christmas decorations and when Steve called you yesterday you made sure you had everything at home for dinner.
While you waited for Steve to come home, you prepared dinner and also cleaned the apartment a little. You were in the kitchen when you heard the key turn in the door. A smile immediately spread across your face.
“Sweetheart, I’m home.” Steve called quietly. With a smile you walked to the apartment door where Steve was leaning the shield against the wall. He was still wearing his Captain America suit, which means he must have gone straight to your apartment after landing at the compound.
“Hey, Stevie.” That’s what you said as you saw him standing there and Steve smiled back. You ran to him and jumped into his arms. Steve chuckled but then hugged you tightly.
“I missed you too.” Steve sighed and kissed your forehead. After a while you broke the hug. You looked up to him, Steve cupped your face and kissed you softly and then you smiled at each other.
“I love you so much sweetheart.”
“I love you too.” You said back softly. Steve took your hand and looked around the apartment, noticing the decorations. You saw Steve’s gaze soften as he looked around.
“Do you like it?” Steve looked back at you and squeezed your hand.
“I love it.” You giggled.
“Wait, how was the mission?” You asked Steve after a while.
“It went well, but I’m really exhausted.”
“Oh, Steve. Would you like to take a quick shower and change into some comfortable clothes so we can cuddle before dinner?” You suggested and he nodded.
“Yeah, that sounds really good.” Steve said and you gave him a kiss on the cheek. While Steve went to shower, you made hot chocolate for both of you. You carried them into your bedroom and placed them on the bedside table. Then you sat down in bed, put the blanket around yourself and waited for Steve. After a while you heard the water stop and a few minutes later Steve entered the room in comfortable clothes. Steve sat down next to you, and you reached for a cup of hot chocolate.
“For you.” You said when you gave it to him.
“Thanks honey.” You and Steve took a few sips and then cuddled. He held you close and slowly rubbed your back. You both missed this so much and were so happy to be together again.
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Taglist:
@marvelogic | @rogersbarber | @eviebuggg | @nicoline1998enilocin | @nekoannie-chan | @kandis-mom | @sergeantbarnessdoll | @noellez-best-life23 | @buckskemp | @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 | @mrs-bucky-barnes-73 | @mrsbuckybarnes1917
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heli-writes · 2 months
Text
Between then and now
Part 1: The return
Pairing: Toshinori Yagi x Reader
Summary: When a whirlwind affair between you and All Might was found out by his manager, it was made sure that no one ever knew about you or your relationship with All Might. Even twenty years later, Toshinori Yagi still thinks of you. His retirement leaves him lonely in a cold city apartment and he wonders what could’ve been. Maybe it’s time to rekindle? But is that what you want?
Disclaimers: -
Note: I’ve been writing this piece since October 2022. So glad, it’s finally done!
Heli’s Masterlist
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3
*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~ *~*
Twenty years ago, Japan.
You giggle when Toshinori pulls you into him. He’s only wearing sweatpants and his skin feels hot under yours. 
“C’mon y/n, we still have a few minutes, right?” Toshinori whines. 
“No, the driver will be here soon. You still have to get dressed and do your hair!” You run your hand through his messy hair. 
“Well, and who’s fault is it that my hair is all a mess?” he grins. 
“Besides the point.”, you shrug, “The actual point is that I am responsible for getting you to your event on time.” 
He sighs. “All right, all right.” 
Toshinori bends over to pick up his shirt from the ground. “Just so you know, Mr. Kanno can be really glad to have you. Without you, neither of us would have any overview about where I have to be when.” he smiles.
“Just don’t let him find out that half of the time you are late because of me.” you sheepishly reply.
*~*~* *~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~ *~*
“Yagi-san, seriously! How could you possibly think this was a good idea at this crucial time of your career!”. Naoto Kannos voice boomed through the empty office.
“Kanno-san, you need to calm down. It’s not that bad. It’s not like y/n can’t be trusted.” Toshinori said slightly embarrassed.
“I would never tell anything to the press.” you said quietly.
“Y/n, this is not about whether you talk to the press or not. Eventually, they will find out. Are you even aware of what this could mean for All Might? For yourself?” Kanno massages his temple.
“Look,” Toshinori said, “We’re careful. And there is no reason why a hero cannot be in a relationship.”
“There are a thousand reasons why a hero shouldn’t be in a relationship, Yagi-san! You of all people should be aware of that.” Kanno states shaking his head.
Your heart beats loudly and leaves an aching pain in your chest. Toshinori presses your hand.
“I’m sorry you two. But you know this has to end.”
*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~ *~*
After a night-long fight and seemingly endless discussions, it eventually did end. You went overseas to work for the American branch of All Might’s hero agency and he stayed behind to fight villains in Japan. When he and Kanno brought you to the airport, you didn’t know that things would get to be a lot worse in America than you anticipated standing at the boarding gate to fly into the unknown.
*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~ *~*~*
The present day, Japan.
He knew the end of his career was coming. He knew for a good few years. He knew when he chose young Midoriya as his successor and he knew during his final fight with All for One. What he didn’t know then, was how much his life changed after his retirement. Sure, he still has his position at UA. He still has to train young Midoriya. 
However, his days are significantly slower and quieter. Nothing could have prepared him for those empty nights in his empty apartment. He has no hobbies, no friends and no family to fill his time. He never had time or the head space to cultivate either of these things. And now all that waits for him at the end of the day is his cold apartment in a city that’s always bright. His home, however, isn’t that bright.
These days, he often finds himself thinking of you. It’s been such a long time. What were you up to? He knows you left his agency in America only a couple of months after you started there. He can’t begrudge you for that. After all, that’s what Kanno wanted for both of you: a clean cut. Where did you go after that? Did you find a fulfilling job? Did you meet someone special? Did you get married and have kids of your own? Are you happy?
He really hopes so. He really hopes that you are happy. The last time he saw you, you weren’t. You were holding back tears. Your broken heart is written all over your face. If things only were different back then, maybe you would be lying right next to him right now.
What a silly thought. He truly has become a pitiful old man. Sick and lonely. So far from what he used to be.
Laying in his bed, he stares at the dark ceiling. He turns over and grabs his phone. He opens social media and types in your name into the search bar. No results. He turns off his phone discouragedly. This was a stupid idea anyway.
*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~ *~*~*
The present day, America.
“When do we have to be at the airport again, Mom?”
“Jesus, Takeo, you are an adult. How can you still rely on your mother to be punctual?” you sigh, dragging your suitcase down the stairs.
Your son walks around the corner and gives you a lopsided grin. “Hey, you have to be at the airport too, you know!” 
Takeo takes your suitcase and lifts it above his head as if it weighs nothing.
You sigh. “Stop that. Put it down. I feel like I shouldn’t have signed up for this.”
“Hey, this was your decision. No one asked you to follow me overseas! I certainly can imagine something better than your mother following you around.” your son pouts while putting your suitcase close by the door.
“I am not following you around! I always wanted to return to Japan eventually. Just never had a good reason. And what better reason do I have than you?” you mumble embarrassed.
“It’s ok, mom. I didn’t mean it like that.” He nudges you. “We’ll be living in different cities anyway. Far enough apart, so I can my freshman year at university in peace.”
You give him a suspicious side-eye. “And how exactly do you plan to enjoy your first year? Studying I hope.”
You pull your jacket from a nearby chair and start to put it on. Your son is already halfway through the doof when you hear him say: “Geez, mom, let me live a little.”
You hear a car door open and close outside. Your heart does that thing again. When it pulls itself together leaving behind a small ache. You take a look around the almost empty house. It will be the last time you see it. The new owners are moving in next week and you will have left the country by then. It’s strange. You choose to leave this place so that you can return to your home country. And yet, it makes you feel awfully melancholic. There are so many memories connected to this place. Most of your adult life. Your son’s childhood.
“Are you ready?” your son asks behind you.
“As ready as I’ll ever be.” you say.
*~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~ *~*~*
The weather is cold and rainy when you land in Tokyo. You get your son settled into his student accommodation. After that, you take the train to Musutafu. Your family lives in Musutafu. While you don’t have any contact with them anymore, the place holds a dear place in your heart. You always knew that that was the place where you wanted to grow old and find your final rest. 
With All Might retiring, you finally felt safe enough to return home. Your new home is a small apartment on the third floor. You’re glad it came with furniture so that you had no heavy lifting to do. Your other belongings arrived a week ago. The landlord was kind enough to let the delivery crew put it in the apartment. 
It’s almost midnight when you arrive at the place that will be your home from now on. 
After opening the door, you turn on the light in the hallway. You close the door and walk into the living room. In the middle of the room, several boxes are stacked on top of each other. All my life in just a couple of boxes, you think. 
You leave your suitcase standing behind you and open the box closest to you. Kitchen utensils. You open a few more boxes until you find what you’ve been looking for. You pull out a framed picture of your son and you on his first day of kindergarten. Carefully, you wipe over the picture. Then you put it on the windowsill at the right side of the room. Contently, you look at the mess that’s in your living room. 
I’ll take care of the rest tomorrow, you think and you pull your suitcase behind you into the bedroom.
*~*~* *~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~*~*
It’s your first real day back in Japan. Before you tackle the unpacked boxes that are stacked in your apartment, you are in desperate need of breakfast and coffee. Although breakfast is relative since the long flight and time difference made you sleep well into the early afternoon. After a quick shower and some fresh clothes, you set out to find the nearest grocery shop.
Your apartment is in a different part of the city than you grew up in. It’s a safety measure really. You don’t want to run into family while out and about. It would be awkward for all parties involved. Still, you feel anxious when you set foot in front of your apartment. It feels as if you’re being watched. As if someone would jump at you around the next corner and yell: “Hey, aren’t you the one that got pregnant out of wedlock?”.
It’s silly, you know that. Most people in this city probably have forgotten you, those who don’t either won’t recognize you anymore or don’t want to recognize you anymore.
Nevertheless, this place brings back memories you’ve tried to forget for a long time.
*~*~* *~*~*~*~ *~*~*~*~*~*
Twenty years ago, America.
“Pregnant? pregnant?”, your mother’s voice booms through the speaker of your phone. “Who’s pregnant?”, your bother asks in the background. “Yuto, get out of the kitchen. And tell your father he needs to come in here immediately”, your mother yells at him. She sounds shrill and on the verge of a nervous breakdown.
“Y/n tell me that this is not true!”, your mother yells into the phone again. You massage your temples. This was going just as you thought it would. “Mom, it’s true. I’m pregnant.”, you tell her. 
You can hear shuffling at the other end of the line. “Are you sure? Or are you just late? You know, the women in our family have very irregular cycles.”, your mother rambles. “Mom, I’m sure. I’ve been to the doctor already. They did blood work. I’m most definitely pregnant.”, you tell her.
You know that you’ve been pregnant for a couple of weeks already. When your period was late after a month in America, you did a test from the drugstore. When it came back positive, you went into panic mode. You ignored the problem for another week or two in hopes that it’s a false alarm and that your period eventually does start. When it didn’t, you had to face reality and make a doctor’s appointment. 
Now the first trimester is almost over and you start showing. You put off telling your family for a while now but you can’t hide it forever.
“But y/n... how could this happen?”, your mother asks desperately. “Well, I’m sure you have an idea of how this can happen.”, you answer dryly. You can hear your mother take a sharp breath. Somewhere in the background, a door opens. “Give me a moment.”, your mother mumbles. For a few minutes, you hear quiet talking in the background. Someone slams something onto a table or another surface.
“Y/n, this is serious”. Your father must’ve picked up the phone. “How far along are you?”, he asks. “I’m in the 14th week.”, you tell him matter-of-factly. “That’s too late.”, you hear your mother say closely to the phone. She must be pressing her ear onto the other side of it.
You feel anger rising in your stomach. “Too late for what, mom?”, you challenge her. You know exactly what she means. “To get rid of it.”, your father says irritatedly. “I’m not going to get rid of my child.”, you tell him. You’re not surprised your parents would propose this. Nevertheless, it makes you angry.
“Alright, then when’s the wedding?”. Your father sounds calm but challenging as well. “There will be no wedding.”, you reply coldly. You hear your mother sob in the background. Your father grinds his teeth.
There’s more shuffling. Your mother must’ve ripped the phone out of your father’s grip. “But who, y/n? Who is the father? He must take responsibility for this!”, your mother asks. You can practically hear the tears in her voice. “There is no father.”, you tell her. “Of course, there is a father!”, your father booms. “Or are you Virgin Mary?”
You almost laugh at that. To be the Virgin Mary would be easier than the situation you’re in. Of course, there is a father but it’s not like cou can talk about him. “The father isn’t in the picture. He doesn’t want anything to do with this.”, you say. It hurts saying these words. 
“Goddamit!”, your father swears. It makes you flinch. Your father never swears. He’s too sophisticated for that. Your mother wails in the background. “At least he could pay child support.”, he says. “I don’t need his money.”, you explain.
“Oh no, I think you will.”, your father says angrily, “Because we won’t be paying for your bastard child”. You feel tears pricking in your eyes. You don’t want their money. You make good money on your own. What you do want is their support.
“I knew it was a bad idea when you said you’d be going to America! I told you to quit when they transferred you there! You could’ve come work for me and your brother and you wouldn’t be in this situation!”, he scolds. “But no! It’s always been like this! We gave you everything! We paid for your education at one of the top universities in the country. With that degree, you could’ve worked for any company! You could’ve joined the family business and worked for your brother. But no, you chose to work for that All Might. Y/n, I knew that would be your downfall!”, he continues not giving you a chance to say something.
You grind your teeth and stop listening. What your father says is true. You could’ve gotten literally any job you wanted. If it weren’t for your degree, it would’ve been for the connections of your father. And of course, they wanted you to work for the family. Keep you close, keep you under their control. It makes you sick. The whole reason why you started working for All Might’s hero agency was to get some independence. Make your own decisions.
“... and now you got knocked up by some foreigner! What a disgrace! How are we supposed to explain this to our business partners? Do you comprehend what this means for the family?”, your father rambles.
Ah of course, what would it mean for the family? That’s the only thing that matters. Hot tears stream down your cheeks. You feel a big lump in your throat. One that you can’t swallow down.
“... you hear that, y/n? What do you think are we supposed to do now?”, your father yells into the phone.
“Nothing.”, you manage to reply, “You do nothing. You tell them your daughter took a job in America and decided to stay there.”
“Damn right, that's what you’ll do! You won’t set foot into our neighborhood with that brat of yours.”, your father bites back. Anger and determination start to settle in your stomach. It makes the lump in your throat melt away. 
“Don’t worry, dad. I won’t. I will do as I said. I’ll stay here and I won’t return to Japan. There’s nothing and nobody left for me there anyway.”, you say and slam the phone down.
That’s the last time you ever spoke to your father. Your mother spoke to you a couple of times afterward. You’ve tried talking to her but she was unreasonable. After she gave up the idea of abortion, she tried talking you into adoption. Giving birth in America, giving the baby away and then returning home to Japan into the lap of the family. You refused. Despite everything, you loved that baby growing inside of you. Eventually, you stopped picking up the phone when she called. Your brother didn’t even try to talk to you. The reason for that you don’t know.
When your son was born, you sent them a card and a picture. In return, they sent you papers of disinheritance.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
[Please comment if you'd like to be tagged in future chapters]
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georgiapeach30513 · 6 months
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Inside Her Fantasy, Part 1
Summary: Ransom was a sweet playboy, and you are America's sweetheart. Two opposite people that met in an unlikely way. Things move fast when you're in the spotlight, and you fell more everyday. He was happy he had someone who he could trust with his vulnerable side. You were happy to have someone who could stand tall and not be irritated by your own fame. Fast love and living in a fish bowl isn't always easy. But can you and Ransom beat the odds?
Pairings: Ransom Drysdale X Reader
Rating: fluff
Warnings:  none, 18+ ONLY
Word Count: 4.5K
Series Masterlist
*Dividers created by @firefly-graphics
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Early morning muffled giggles, and the pitter patter of feet make Ransom stir in his sleep. His face burrows deeper into the pastel pink ruffles. Feet hanging off the edge of the bed, but his eyes remain close.
“Daddy,” a giggly voice echoes in the hallway as she covers her mouth with her hand. “Uncle Ranny is in my bed again.”
“Is he,” the big beefy man picks up his littlest daughter, throwing her in the air. “Why are you sitting in the hallway?”
“Because,” she points a finger to her bedroom before covering her mouth with her hand. “I think he has twinkle toes!”
“Not the twinkle toes! Why weren’t you in your bed last night?”
“Uhh,” she draws out, shrugging her shoulders. Usually she didn’t sleep in her room on nights before her parents had to go to the hospital. “I — daddy, I slept in Maevey’s room. And then I wake up to go play, and Uncle Ranny is drooling on my satin!”
“Oh, dear. Let’s wake Mr. Twinkle Toes up, okay?” She responds with an okay, nodding her head while he walks into the room. Ransom let’s out a loud snore, hugging onto one of the little girl’s Squishmallows, and she giggles again.
“Ransom,” her father says, but Ransom snores lower. “Ransom!” He kicks the bed, and Ransom shoots up immediately, groaning before flopping back down on the bed. “You’re drooling on the princess’ pillow.”
“Yeah! That’s my pillow. Why do you always sleep in my bed when you have twinkle toes.”
“I don’t have twinkle toes,” Ransom harrumphs, flipping over to his side. He hugs tighter to her stuffed animal, giving her a peek. “Why are you up so early?”
“You do have twinkle toes! You always drool with twinkle toes!”
“Charlie, baby, I,” he stops talking looking at his best friend and teammate before nodding his head, “Yes, princess, I had twinkle toes, and pranced right in here. I’m sorry, but I’ll buy you a new squishy thing,” Bucky clears his throat, and shakes his head. “I’ll buy you something.”
“Ahh! Daddy, I need to see Maevey. Put me down,” she wiggles out of her daddy’s arms before darting towards her sister’s room.
Bucky gives a long look to Ransom before leaning up against his daughter’s dresser. “Yeah, I had twinkle toes, which by the way, why does your wife call it that?”
“Next time we’ll tell the kids you got shit faced, and stumbled into our house because you used my kids as an excuse to call a cab for some girl of the night,” rolling his eyes, Ransom turns his back to Bucky. “You deserve more than one night stands. Ones you can look at without your beer goggles.”
“Not all of us are cut out to marry our highschool sweethearts.”
“You think it was easy for us?” Bucky sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “She had Maeve when she was sixteen. Pregnant when she was fifteen, and yeah, we struggled and made it work. But you…”
“Grew up in a life of privilege. I didn’t buy my way into the NFL. I worked hard to get there,” Bucky sighs, watching his friend. It had become a frequent pattern with Ransom coming to his house to hide from his problems. The extra help with the kids was nice, but Ransom wasn’t living his life.
“Didn’t say you did. I’m saying those kids love you, and you adore them. You’re worth more than being a fake uncle,” yawning Ransom turns to look at Bucky with an unreadable face. There is zero emotions on his face as he looks at his friend. “There’s going to be some woman who the kids love, and she’s going to send you on a whirlwind. You two are going to fall so hard for each other.”
“Why are you in here, Buck?” He responds pitifully. Ransom was never much into love. It was a made up word that very few could ever hold in their hands. They made excuses and claimed they loved or were in love, but people always disappoint you.
“You’re in my house, and in my daughter’s bed. But Nixon has an appointment. We’re staying overnight, and the girls would rather…”
“You don't have to ask. I don’t want them with anyone else anyways. They’re the only women in my life that don’t make my life a living hell,” Charlie’s bedroom door squeaks open, and the little girl runs onto Ransom’s lap, while the oldest bashfully walks in. She looks at her dad before back at Ransom.
The tall man looks towards the teenager, narrowing his eyes, and pursing his lips. He’s seen this look more than once in his life. “What do you want, Maeve?”
“So, you know my favorite artist right?” Her voice is nearly a whisper. Almost embarrassed to ask Ransom this.
“Picasso?”
“No, recording artist,” she giggles, shaking her head. She whispers out your name, and looks back at her father quickly. “Umm, she’s playing Gillette tonight. Mom already said we could go, but…”
“Who is that?” Ransom asks, confused. “She…what do you mean she’s playing Gillette?”
“Well, she is the number one artist in the world right now. She’s doing this stadium tour, and she’s going to be here for a few days. I think the itinerary I got online is correct. I know you can’t always believe everything you see on the internet, but I really want to go. Charlie likes her, too,” her little sister nods her head, and whispers into Ransom’s ear about how pretty you are. “It would mean everything to me.”
“Maevey, if she’s as big as you say she is, I might not be able to get us in,” there was only one way he could get the girls in, and he really didn’t want to go down that road again.
“You’re literally the starting tight end of the Patriots,” Maeve wasn’t going to give up without a bit of a fight.
“Your dad is the quarterback.”
“And didn’t you date some…”
“Ahh! I didn’t date her! No, absolutely not,” Ransom decides quickly he isn’t going to ask his ex about tickets to one of the biggest concerts of the year. But then the littlest girl looks up at him, sweetly asking pretty please with a cherry on top, and he can’t say no.
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You bite at your lip, getting a little slap on your wrist by your makeup artist. She hates when you ruin her work. Your lipstick was already on, and now she has to go back and fix it. Staring at yourself in the mirror, you hardly recognize that girl anymore. She’d been through hell recently. Bad breakups are never easy. Worse when the world can watch.
Sighing, you look towards the door. There is always something that bothers you about this talk show. She was invasive, and played up what the tabloids said. You couldn’t keep a man. You just date around to write songs. You were seeing just how many notches you could get. It was insulting.
You are sure you’re not the only woman in the world to date or date around. What you did just was viewed by the world. Growing up in front of the camera may not be ideal, but you didn’t know anything else. This life was all you knew. It gave you the world, while also taking away so much. You loved it, and feared it. You welcomed it, and also wished you could turn it off sometimes. There was never a break.
Someone knocks on the door, and whispers out your name, letting you know it was time to go on to the set of Leslie Locke. Your team always wanted you to put in a good face for this show. It was fun, and the fans enjoyed it, but too bad the press enjoyed your humiliation more.
You squint from the lights as you walk onto set, greeted halfway by Leslie when you take a seat in a chair opposite her. Her blue eyes give you a strange look, and you look out to the audience awkwardly. She was up to something. You just knew it, but what is the question?
“So you had a pretty rough start to the year,” you smile at her, and give her a nod. She was already starting in on you and your relationship. “But the good thing is I’m sure you got some good songs out of it, right?”
“I’d say most writers use their life experiences to tell a story. How is it any different than a writer of a book?” Leslie isn’t used to you snapping back. With age comes a need to protect your peace. Her mouth goes tight as she looks at the camera and then back at you.
“But aren’t authors embellishing the story?” With the breakup came a new realization that you had the power and voice. You didn’t need someone to protect you. You could do it yourself. “We all embellish. Even when I talk to my girlfriends, I’m embellishing the story.”
“So you admit that you use your songs to make yourself look better in the breakup?” She always twisted your words. It was her schtick. You smile, shaking your head no, but have no intentions of elaborating. It wasn’t worth the argument.
“Well, I want to play a game with you,” oh good grief. She loved these stupid games. “Since you’re back on the market, I thought it would be fun to show you some single men,” you turn to look towards one of the cameras with a deadpan look. “No, this will be fun. They’re hot men, just not your usual type.”
“Okay, fine,” you sigh, knowing that it would be easier just to agree.
“Good, good,” she holds up the first picture, and you roll your eyes, shaking your head rapidly. “What’s wrong with Dayton White?”
“I don’t date race car drivers.”
“You mean you haven’t, but you could?” This is a hard no. You wouldn’t date him. “Okay, what about this guy? Big, tall, buff, and he’s a boxer,” you wait a moment for her to give you a name. “This is August Walker.”
“I don’t like the mustache. I like mean without too much going on with their face. Clean cut, ya know?”
“Well, that leaves out these two. Okay, so he’s a football player,” you scrunch up your nose, already looking disgusted. Why would you date a football player? “He’s 6’5”, tight end for the New England Patriots,” not interested. “Blue eyes, all of 265 pounds of man, and a bit of a wild card,” your ears perk up because of course they do. You love those men that have that slight toxicity. They are your weakness. And you hate it.
“Completely baby faced, and he does love going out,” please be ugly. Please be ugly. “You have no idea who Ransom Drysdale is, huh?”
“Ransom?” She flips the card over showing you what he looks like, and you’re a goner. “Oh,” you stutter, trying to look away from his face. “Oh, he’s kinda cute,” the fact that he was holding a small little girl, while hugging another. It made him even more attractive, if his angelic face wasn’t enough.
“Kinda? That is one hell of a man,” yeah, he was. You can’t even imagine how big he would be next to you.
“He’s got kids?” They were adorable little girls. You didn’t think you wanted to date someone with kids, but he could be worth it. You had never dated someone with kids. No, it didn’t matter anyways. You weren’t going to date this man. You were going to look him up. Maybe check out a few pictures of him.
“No, these are his teammate Bucky Barnes’ daughters. He’s very close with the quarterback on the team,” sure he was. He didn’t have kids, that was better. You loved kids, but weren't ready for that. But him being good with kids is a good quality. “You have no idea what the QB does, huh?”
“He throws the ball? Catches it? Tackles?”
“Football isn’t your thing, I see,” she didn’t even answer the question. Fine, you made a public declaration of finding him attractive. Great. You can already see the tabloids writing some stupid nonsense. He is cute though. And somehow loving kids that aren’t his is making him more attractive. It shows he could be a father, but was smart enough to prevent it. Ugh, you can’t be thinking about things like this. You just know his name. But a name is a start. No! Not this one. You will not fall into this trap again.
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Maeve plops down on the couch, sighing as she looks out the window. Ransom was running late, and that only meant one thing. She wasn’t going to the concert tonight.
“Maevey!” Charlie says, bouncing on her older sister’s lap. “Don’t be sad. Uncle Ranny is watching us tonight, and she’ll be at Gillette tomorrow night, too. Can we make bracelets again?” Maeve wants to say no, until she sees her sister’s dark green eyes pleading up at her. “Pretty please?”
“Fine, go get the stuff. I’m sure Ran will just have pizza delivered. And…we’ll watch her interview on Leslie Locke’s today,” it wasn’t the same as actually seeing you in concert, but it would be fine. Maybe you’d talk about some upcoming music. Maybe you’d talk about a new project.
Charlie runs into her room to grab up her beads and elastic. Anything to play and spend time with her big sister. Bringing it back with the biggest smile on her face.
By the time Ransom walks into the house, he gives Maeve a regretful smile, shaking his head, “Maeve, I did try. Me and Candy didn’t end well, so I didn’t think she would help me out. And hey, your dad is the QB, shouldn’t he be able to help?”
“They’re sold out,” her voice is flat as she returns to stringing on a bead. “She’ll be on Leslie’s soon.”
“Leslie Locke’s?” Ransom groans, sitting on the floor with the girls. “All that woman wants to do is hook people up with another celebrity. She’s obnoxious, but she asks questions that nobody wants to ask. You guys really watch that trash?” Maeve shrugs her shoulders, adding another bead to her current bracelet. “What is this?”
“I love friendship bracelets! Here, Uncle Ranny, you start one. You gonna get twinkle toes this weekend?” Snorting, he shakes his head no. Giving a groan when the Leslie Locke theme song plays in the background. It is like he was getting irritated by just the thought of having to hear her voice. “I like when you get twinkle toes. It means we’re going to wake up with you here.”
“I’m here now to watch you because,” he pauses, looking up at Charlie whose eyes darken a moment. “Nixon will be okay. They think there’s a new…”
“Ran, don’t,” Maeve pulls Charlie over into her lap, giving her tiny sister a kiss on the head. “He’s going to be okay, sissy.”
“Of course he is, princess. Nixie boy is going to be so strong, and going to be the best linebacker that the east coast has ever seen,” reaching out his hand, he gives the little girl a tap to her nose, “I promise, Nixon will be okay.”
“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right. Hey, look! Maevey! There she is. Oh, she’s so pretty, huh, Uncle Ranny?” Both girls turn to look towards Ransom, and he is only staring at you as you wave to the camera. Giving the audience the prettiest smile. He’s notices the fake smile you give Leslie. He’s done it a few times.
“What do you think?” Maeve leans towards him, bumping his shoulder. “You have just as much chance as those normal people. But she has this tendency to,” Maeve’s words turn into mush as Ransom watches you. He hadn’t ever seen anyone more beautiful. He isn’t sure why he hadn’t ever thought to look you up. Especially when there was the rumor you would be singing at the Super Bowl.
Your fake little giggle as you look at Leslie is even adorable. He isn’t paying attention to whatever little game Leslie is playing with you until Charlie sees it.
“That’s me!” Charlie shouts, jumping out of her sister’s lap. “That’s me! Maevey, she’s looking at us.”
“Oh, my god,” Maeve chokes out, hearing you mention how Ransom was cute. “Oh my god! She’s seen my face. She…she’s — Ransom, do you understand what this means?” Ransom can’t think of anything other than the fact that you are staring at a picture of him.
“I have an idea. Ran, I have — Ransom Drysdale! She’s going to be at the children’s hospital before her concert. Ransom! Ransom, pay attention to me.”
You thought he was cute. You smiled a genuine smile looking at him. His phone hadn’t rang. Leslie wasn’t trying to put her meddling nose where it didn’t belong. He could call his people, and get them to call your people. This could work. One date. One night.
“Ransom!”
“What?” He asks, finally looking at Maeve.
“I have an idea, and you won’t have to get anyone’s teams involved. It would just be you and her. It’s perfect, and she loves simple things. She loves little sneaks. And I think she kinda liked the idea that you don’t have kids, but you’re around them. Ran, I know what we need to do.”
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Performing was the easy part of your career. Having moments to tell your stories with a guitar in your hand. Nothing else matters. Just you and the movement of the lyrics. Looking up to see the children’s faces makes you smile.
You wanted a family. One day you would have some of your own. Even though you’re sealed up in a studio alone, this is one of your favorite crowds to perform for. Big beaming smiles as they hang on to every word that you say. They always called you powerful, but they were the powerful ones. Always able to have a smile on their face.
Smiling despite whatever was going on in their lives. Enjoying life regardless of what their diagnoses were. Simple. Peaceful. Looking back down at your guitar, you close your eyes for a moment, and just feel the music. Everyone always had something going on in their life. Money couldn’t buy you everything. Definitely couldn’t make bad stuff from happening to you.
Opening them back up, you look out into the small audience and choke. Having to look away from the handsome man that was standing in front of you. You had only just seen him in a photo recently, and there he was. It was like the clouds had opened up, and the sun shone right on him. His blue shirt setting off his eyes even more. And those jeans made his legs look days long. He is staying casual, even a brand new pair of Nikes on. He wasn’t even remotely your type, and still you feel drawn to him.
“Uncle Ranny she saw you,” Ransom shakes his head no. He imagined the crack in your voice when you looked up at him. He has to hold Charlie up, so she could actually see over the crowd in front, and Maeve leans over on his shoulder. “Yeah huh. She did. Or it was me.”
“It was definitely you,” Ransom responds without looking away from you. You looked delicate in that room all by yourself. Strumming on a guitar and peaceful. He didn’t have the best reputation in the NFL. The reputation of a perpetual playboy. Love them and leave them, so if you wanted to even talk to him, you would have to accept that. And from what research he did on you, any male in your vicinity was automatically your Prince Charming.
Two people from very different careers, and rumors that ruled your careers just as much as your talent. The rumors aren't always true. Some nights Ransom doesn’t even go home with those women. He crawls into a tiny little twin sized princess bed with pink ruffles. The tabloids could write what they wanted to. But this — this is an intimate setting, and he’s never seen anyone more beautiful than you.
You might not realize it, but you look at each child that is watching you perform. Giving them a moment of joy. There are no cameras, and nobody to see what you’re doing but these kids and family. And then he realizes he must look like the biggest asshole because he was here.
“We should go,” he whispers, and he swears he sees you shake your head no. Could you read lips, and were you asking him not to go?
“No, we can’t,” Maeve whispers, her eyes staying on you the entire time. “You have to give her what you made.”
“Maeve, this is silly,” she gives her quasi uncle a quick pinch on his forearm. Something she’s done most of her life. Her silent way of letting him know that she wasn’t going to change her mind, she needs to see this through. “I can just get…”
“She doesn’t like setups like that. She wants things to be organic.”
“I showed up at the children’s hospital to see her,” and saying it out loud sounds even more absurd than it felt. He was crossing a line by coming here.
“You are just bringing us to our parents, so we can check on our little brother because he’s going to have another surgery. This is as random as you can get,” Maeve’s words stop in her mouth as you smile at the three of them. Your eyes looking back to the kids in the front. You aren’t sure why they are there, but you aren’t entirely upset about it either.
He looks more handsome in person. And the way those girls are so comfortable with him. A quick Google search told you how close he was with his QB. How he spent a ton of free time with him, and his kids. You hope that they linger. You always want to give time to everyone before they are shuffled back into their room. Hoping a smile towards them, and holding up a finger, asking them to give you a minute will be enough.
You know it isn’t going to be long before you are going to be ushered away in preparation for the show. Taking a deep breath, you go to hug each and every one of them. Watching your PA from the side who is constantly checking on the time. Hopefully Ransom and his nieces understood it wasn’t being rude. She was always conscious of your time.
As soon as the last person is pulled away from your side, you stand up straight to look at Ransom with whatever smile your social battery will allow. Your PA says your name, and motions you with her head it was time to leave, “Give me ten more minutes?” She looks at Ransom and the girls, and holds up her whole hand. Five minutes was better than nothing.
“So,” you huff out walking towards them. Having to gulp when you realize just how massive Ransom is. No wonder the little girl looked tiny in his arms. “Uh,” you giggle, not knowing exactly what to say. “I’m sorry.”
“My brother is here,” the oldest girl blurts out, and pulls at Ransom’s arm. “He has something for you.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Yes. You do. He’s on the Pats. He tried to get tickets to your show last night, but they were sold out. I’ve always wanted to see you. I’m your biggest fan. My little sister, Charlotte, loves you, too. She’s just four, so she doesn’t understand all the lyrics. But I do. I love how you kinda tease your fans, and give us little Easter eggs in anticipation for your next album, or sneak things into your videos. It’s so cool,” panicking she looks up at Ransom. Realizing she had word vomited all of that to you. This wasn’t how she imagined meeting you would go.
“Maevey, breathe,” the little girl giggles, before hiding her face on Ransom.
“She talks a lot when she’s nervous,” Maeve gives him a pinch to his arm, and if you weren’t standing right in front of him, laughing a tiny bit, he wouldn’t do what he was about to do. “I did try.”
“Well, what if I told you that I have a few extra tickets to the show. I always ask for a box at these stadium shows to stay empty for me just in case. It’s still empty,” both the girls squeal, and Maeve tugs on Ransom’s arm a bit. “I should probably go, honestly. But…I’ll have my people call yours?”
“Uhh…where is,” You point over to a few hidden areas in the hospital. You had people everywhere. He’s sure most are for security. But still one could figure out what it was Ransom needed to do to get to the stadium. Maeve gives him another pinch to his arm, and he grunts as you start to turn around.
“Uh, me and the girls, we uh — we made you something.”
“That’s adorable,” you preen, looking between both of the girls. Ransom reaches his giant hand into his pocket, and pulls out a crude bracelet.
“We made friendship bracelets last night instead of watching your concert. I just brought them here to see their parents and baby brother.”
“This is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me,” you’ve had sweet things given to you. But there is something about envisioning this man on the floor with two girls, and making a bracelets with those thick fingers. “Thank you. Honestly, I want to see you guys in the box tonight. Jared will get you all the info that you need.”
“Yes. Yes, you will. Ransom has nothing to do. Nothing at all,” you liked the teenager with him. Even when nervous, she still said what she thought.
Ransom sighs as you walk away. Thankful you hadn’t looked at what the bracelet said while you were in front of him. He could breathe again, but you couldn’t. Walking with your PA, your fingers play with the bracelet until you are helped into your car.
“June, he’s so hot. Like hot hot obviously. He’s so big and wide, and the way he delicately held Charlotte? Oh my god. That was the sweetest thing, and I need them at the show tonight.”
“Don’t let him be a distraction.”
“I won’t,” you roll your eyes, finally giving the bracelet a look. He was smooth. You stuff it back in your pocket. Smiling from ear to ear, and knowing that when you go alone, you were going to pick up your phone, and make sure that he had your number, too.
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anika-ann · 5 months
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Back and Forth - part 1
Part 1 - Snap Back
Type: series; agent!reader, inhuman!reader
Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader    Word Count: 7400
Chapter summary: 
In which the mission goes to hell and you and Steve clash. Again.
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Series masterlist
Warnings: blood, canon-typical violence, mention of gunshot wounds, hints of unhealthy relationship to pain, mention of death, some angst
A/N: ALWAYS MIND THE WARNINGS; dividers by @firefly-graphics 💕; moodboard is for the vibes and does not necessarily reflect reader’s appearance
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Steve Rogers was a very large man. Over two hundred pounds of muscle, over six feet three tall, he towered and loomed and hovered above everything and everyone. And yet, his body seemed too small to contain the huge ball of righteous anger, too small to contain the magnitude of the jerk he was being at the moment.
It must have been one of his greatest talents.
And you understood. You understood why he was pacing around, his face the perfect storm with lightning flashing from his eyes, his voice thundering; the mission was a failure, fire and destruction left behind without the important data retrieved. Hell, you understood a little too well how much of that was your fault therefore he had every right to be angry with you.
And yet. Yet, you couldn’t comprehend how that supposedly righteous man spitted around words full of rage when he was to blame himself too.
He was the one to pull you out. He was the one to shake you and break your concentration before your spectre, able to waltz behind locked doors without a key, could deliver the drive to another agent. He was the one to make you snap back, your astral projection dissipating.
Yes, your spectre had been barely walking. Yes, it had got shot in the gut and you really damn felt it. Yes, you – it, really – had been hanging on a tread, with you already at peace with the fact that once you’d snap back, you’d wake up in a hospital bed, because your body wouldn’t handle the strain. Yes, maybe you would have failed anyway, snapping back before you could do what you were supposed to. But now you’d never know, would you?
Because Steven Grant Rogers, Mr. Captain America with the ego of the size of his very moniker, couldn’t have handled you straying from his explicit order to get out earlier.
You were still shaky on your feet, barely having beaten your dizziness and having been walking the fine line of consciousness for way too long, hurting like hell the whole time, but good god, did you have the energy to fight that blonde disaster screaming you down. Especially since he was doing so in front of everyone as you remained seated on the stretcher and kept pulling at the i.v. with custom-made saline to get it from your arm and make the situation at least a bit less humiliating for you.
The audacity. The audacity it had to take for him to call you reckless and scold you for not disappearing faster despite the fact there had been another set of files that caught you eye and needed to be copied. His utter confidence that his plan was as flawless as the first kiss in the early era Taylor Swift songs; confidence that you would have got out safely and the Hydra agent would have never caught you off guard if you just listened to your Captain.
Well fuck your Captain.
You knew you were a failure. You knew that in the end, you were to blame for not getting the intel out in time before the base blown up, the flash drive lying somewhere in the corridor abandoned. Tony Stark might like to tell you that with your abilities defied the basic laws of physics, namely the law of conservation of matter and energy, but you didn’t defy them that much. You couldn’t carry things back by simply grabbing them as the spectre and snapping back to your real body; you had tried countless times, but that wasn’t how things worked, even if you wanted them to – and surely Captain Rogers did as well.
But he was the one to make you snap back. And he was able to do that, because despite the poorly masked hate he appeared to feel towards you at times, he still often made the strategic decision to be the one protecting your actual body; your paraconscious, softly levitating body, completely vulnerable to an attack. Apparently, he was the only one who could be trusted to do it after all.
Whoever called him a golden boy and actually meant it had to be an idiot.  
“You should have let me do it! I would have been able to get it to Lincoln or someone else!” you argued, hands pushing at the stretcher to stand up at last, wincing at the ghost of a sharp pain tearing at your abdomen. Never mind that, that was nothing new – Rogers’ unsolicited attack and complete lack of accountability were.
He only scoffed at your argument, crossing his arms on his stupidly wide chest. The bragger. The impossible cannot-do-wrong arse-
“Would you? You were going to pass out! I know the signs by now-”
“So what?!”
“So what?!” he echoed on full volume, throwing his arm out just as wildly as the whole tantrum. “I carried you out of there because you couldn’t walk!”
How dared he-
“Oh, I’m sorry,” you feigned regret, lowering your voice as you finally managed to rise to your feet. “I must have been such a terrible imposition to your superstrength!”
“That’s not the problem and you know it!”
Then what was his problem, you wanted to ask, but you knew that question was futile. You knew the answer already and it was annoyingly fitting to a considerably newer Talor Swift song: it was you. You were the problem he had. And the even bigger problem was that he couldn’t have you delivered back express to Coulson, because lately it seemed this team needed someone with the ability to project more than the new SHIELD did. He was stuck with you; with your apparently incapable ass.
“Do I?!” you questioned. “Well, I’m sorry I couldn’t just walk off a massive blood loss!”
Rogers winced as you spitted out the words; good. Maybe he’d think twice before yelling at you next time when the Quinjet hadn’t even touched the ground yet and everyone could watch your failure in HD since he served it to them on a silver platter.
You winced too as you breathed in deeply and fresh claws of pain dug into your abdomen again; really not good. But not unusual, even as there was no trace of the bullet wound on your body – because it wasn’t your actual body that got hit, not really. Still, the pain remained.
Yet, that was nothing to stop you from staring at Rogers as he glared at you with hard eyes, leaning forward, jaw so damn tense you might cut yourself on the tendons if you touched it.  
“You wouldn’t have suffered-- that if you’d have just followed orders!”
“Oh really?! Get over yourself, oh Mighty Captain!”
“Get over-” he repeated as if he couldn’t comprehend you just said that, breathing in deeply to ground himself and failing spectacularly since his voice was still full of accusation. “You should have brought us intel and instead we have nothing!”
You stepped forward to get your retort across almost as quickly as you felt everything in you recoil in guilt – because Rogers was right. Of course, he was right. And you knew that. You wanted to scream and cry and throw up and take a damn nap or maybe just wake up from this fucked up dream but you couldn’t, could you?
You could barely do anything.
“Well, I’m sorry! Okay?! I couldn’t do it and I’m fucking sorry! I know I fucked up! I should have pushed through more, I know, and you have no idea how pissed I am at me! But maybe I would have been just fine, if--- you shouldn’t have stopped me!”
“I wouldn’t have to snap you back if you just did what you were supposed to do!”
You grinded your teeth. Stupid, big-headed pig-headed supersoldier, if he had had any idea-
“What were you going to say just now?” he demanded, standing even taller than before, the mask of anger and disappointment shifting towards challenge.
Fight me. Yell back. Try telling me I’m wrong, when you know I’m not.
Goddamn him. He was so damn self-assured, so overconfident it would get him killed one day and you’d be there to watch like a useless dumbass, because you couldn’t do the one thing every single agent on this team should do: have your teammates’ back.
But you couldn’t tell him that. You couldn’t.
Your shoulders sagged, exhaustion washing over you.
“Doesn’t matter,” you said, minding your volume even as most Avengers and other agents got the memo and tried to give you as much privacy as possible. Bless that useless gesture. “I told you, I’m sorry. I know I need to learn to push myself more despite the pain when the stakes are high, but it’s…” You caught a flash of a new emotion you couldn’t decipher in his eyes and you looked away, scoffing, frustration flaring up again. “Why am I even telling you, what would you know about that, huh?”
What would the perfectly mighty walk-it-off Captain know about you peasants and your struggles. Ziltch. He was perfection personified, never wrong, never weak, never-
The sharp intake of breath had you snap your gaze back – and your heart stumbled in your chest. One brief glance at him and you regretted your words instantly. For one, you were too well-aware of the fact that they were bullshit. For two, you might as well wave a red cloth in front of an already enraged bull.
Steve Rogers bristled, teeth practically bared like those of an animal; he snarled like one too, but it was the tone that had cut you. The tone said so much more than his actual words and that message was like a muleta for you for a change.
“Is that what you think? You think I don’t feel pain?!”
“Maybe you don’t feel anything at all!” you snapped, throwing your arms up, gritting your teeth and closing your fists at the sharp bite at your belly at the movement. For fuck’s sake- “It sure as hell looks like it to me, to everyone! Especially since you’re yelling at me right now! I know I fucked up but it’s not easy on me either!”
The realization that he was acting like an asshole must have been quick – he froze for but a split second – but the fact he cared little for that was even faster, his counterattack coming in hot.
“Well, allow me to correct you, agent, I do feel pain – and I don’t have the luxury to switch it off when I snap back into my real body because I only have one!”
And you laughed. The burst of sardonic laugh tasted like hysteria on your tongue, actual tears burning in your eyes.
Switch it off. Switch it off as you pleased. God, that was funny. That was hilarious. So hilarious you wanted to cry. You pretended that the palm that you lifted to your face was to muffle the laughter and not to check whether some of your tears didn’t escape.
“Ooooh, ohohohooo, you think being me is so great, don’t you? Walk a mile in my shoes, Captain, we’ll see how you’ll like it!” you spat, laughing again. “But I’m sure you wouldn’t only walk, would you? You’d fucking dance en pointe and throw in a few grands jetés en tournant just for the kicks, huh? Because you are Mr.Perfect!”
Despite your challenging words, his demeanour changed in as if you snapped your fingers and the reason for that had your chest tighten in panic.
He noticed the tears. You could tell because he blinked, eyes suddenly roaming your face, his voice falling so quiet you barely heard it all of sudden; but perhaps that was only due to the ringing in your ears, the pulsing in your temples.
“That’s not--- I didn’t mean to--“
You cared shit about what he meant or didn’t mean at the moment. He saw you weak. Again. Not only you had failed, hadn’t handled the mission physically, now you were falling apart mentally right in front of him.
He was going to bench you. Worse, he was going to send you express to Coulson despite needing someone with your abilities and he would never ask you to join the Avengers again.
Fight. Show him you have the fire. Show him you’ve got what it takes. Don’t let him think you gave up.
“Well guess what, Captain, I feel pain too and I don’t have the luxury to heal in a few seconds!”
“I don’t heal that-“ he objected lowly and that was the last drop. The last drop and you cracked.
“I KNOW, okay?! You heal faster than anyone, but you still need to heal, because you can get hurt and you can get killed!” His eyes went wide and you gulped; he heard your voice break. Fuck. “Even if you don’t act like it, because you’re the mighty Captain, after all-“ you added quickly to divert his attention.
And the distraction worked. Too bad it didn’t work for you, words still spilling since the dam had been broken.
“Would you stop calling me-“
“Not all of us can be perfect soldiers, the ultimate heroes! Not all of us can do what you do, just push through everything! We fail, we hurt and we barely survive only to disappoint people like you!” you cried out.
It was the line about disappointment, you were certain – something in his expression shifted again and this time, all fight left your body for good, something inside you breaking. The new emotion on his face almost looked like compassion and you didn’t need that. You didn’t need the demigod amongst men and women to pity you and feel for you, especially not now. Not now when you didn’t deserve it because he was right and now this? You hadn’t been fast enough and strong enough – and he might have scolded you for in front of everyone, but now it seemed as if he regretted that because he needed to be the bigger person just to be fucking more perfect and you couldn’t bear it. You never could.
There was a reason why you always jumped to defence when he showed disappointment in you.
Your voice came out as but a whisper, but you made sure it was firm one. “I failed. I disappointed you and everyone else, I know. I’m sorry. I shall accept the punishment as you see fit even if that doesn’t make up for my failure.”
Nor blind nor deaf, Steve’s demeanour changed too; his eyes were suddenly as kind as his words and that was the worst part.
“I have no doubt you tried your best, Spectre, and that’s all we can ever do. The only punishment which will come is one for not following orders.”
You couldn’t help it. You should have, since you were already in such a mess, most of it of your own making, but hearing him utter those words, him of all people. The irony. You scoffed.
And like a charm, all of his benevolence evaporated in an instant; his back straightened, head held high.
“You’ve got anything to say?”
The words prickled at your tongue but you swallowed them. No. Don’t say it.
“No, sir.” Good girl.
“Clearly, you do,” Rogers opposed, eyes dark as they watched you sharply.
Well, then. Bad girl it was.
“Do I? Fine. You’re a big fat hypocrite.”
You might have as well stuck a bar into a bee hive and poked around, aiming for the queen. Rogers went from slightly annoyed to ballistic in a split second, back in your face.  
“Excuse me?!”
“Excused. I bet you were aaaaaaall about following orders in your time, weren’t you?” you mocked him, knowing you were so on point it had to burn him – that was, if he took a moment to actually consider your words, the words of the inferior, painfully imperfect being. “Even now. Never reckless, never out of line if you feel like it’s the right thing to do. Never pushy with your superstrength, never just removing people who stand in your way, because you can and you will get away with it, because you are the saint who does no wrong, not at all-“
It was his turn to scoff, his eyes burning with bright blue flame of righteousness – and disdain.
“You think being me is so great, don’t you?” he threw back your earlier words, bitter, clearly regretting the sympathy he had found for you earlier. He crossed his arms on his chest again, shaking his head, a sardonic smile on his lips. “You have me all figured out.”
“Yes. Yes, I do. So I know you’d do the same in my place and I know that’s why you’re so angry with me. We always get mad when we’re offered a mirror, don’t we?” you pressed, mirroring his bitter smile indeed.
Something flashed in his eyes, voice dropping low. Dangerously low. “I am angry. You have no idea, Spectre.”
Good. Then you had at least something in common.
“Well, so am I. You have no authority to decide when I have enough-“
“As your captain, I actually do-” he interjected, raising his voice again and you just rolled your eyes.
You were insanely grateful for the familiar sensation of slight popping in your ears, the gentle swing of the floor under your feet. You’d be more grateful for it if you didn’t have to stifle a cry, when your body naturally attempted to balance it out and didn’t feel the burn in your abdomen, but you couldn’t always get what you wanted, could you?
Case on a damn point.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, right,” you said, looking straight into your captain’s eyes, sticking your chin out defiantly, saccharine voice of obedience dripping from your lips, heavy with sarcasm. “Well, if you, sir, have anything else to say, say it now, because we’re landing and I’m about to take a shower and sleep for a week. That is if I am allowed. Or do I need to submit an official request?”
You couldn’t tell whether he wanted to shout again or do exactly what you suggested you would do; because suddenly he, too, seemed dead tired, as if your shouting match exhausted him more than the mission or your failure. He stared at you, silent, for a few long moments – a few too many, almost enough to make you feel guilty again for calling him out on his bullshit, enough to make you consider apologizing for that.
Then he sighed. “No, you don’t, Agent. I hope you’ll rest well.”
You blinked, your heart skipping a shocked beat. His voice was surprisingly soft and sincere, his gaze roaming over you head to toe, seemingly concerned.
Did you just break him? Kindness was far from uncommon in him – once you’d calm down, you’d be more inclined to believe that again, you knew as much – but the sudden change genuinely startled you.
“Uhm… thanks,” you muttered, too taken aback to talk back as you walked backwards. He truly looked worn down to a bone, his brain no doubt racing, already figuring out how to fix the mess you had left behind. He looked like he needed a goddamn nap himself. Except you didn’t think he’d take it; that was part of his problem.
Hypocrite.
You swallowed the you too and simply nodded sharply before you walked away, emotions swirling wildly; and at the centre of them all, remorse and puzzlement, wrapped in a familiar sensation of agony.
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Winter Soldier was a moniker Steve Rogers loathed; but the reputation which came with that name was not unearned.
When Bucky appeared behind his shoulder out of nowhere, no sound having been made, Steve nearly jumped out of his skin; and it was a true testament to how upset he was that he hadn’t heard Bucky sneak up on him despite his slightly enhanced senses.
“Well, that went spectacularly,” Bucky hummed, instantly making Steve groan internally.
He did not want to deal with this – he wanted to forget about this whole ordeal. The fact itself that Bucky was cheery about a sleeper Hydra cell simply because he had an opportunity to tease him about what had just gone down only added to his annoyance.
He was tired. He was mad. He was confused. He was disappointed – both in you and himself. He was… frustrated. So frustrated; then again, those emotions and the last one in general were no news in your presence, much like many others, but those in particular he wanted to ponder over even less.
“Bucky, don’t,” he warned his friend lowly, glancing at him from the corner of his eye as they made a slow way out of the jet.
It was a waste of words, really: Steve didn’t know what he was thinking, believing the warning would actually discourage Bucky from speaking.
“You know, maybe if you told her that the main reason why you’re so pissed-“
“Buck-“
“- is the fact that she’s challenging your authority which makes you question yourself, and that you’re terrified every time she gets hurt or loses consciousness, be it her projection or, god forbid, her real body, because you care juuuust a little too much for her, then maybe… “
Steve loved his best friend; but if looks could kill, the one he shot him at the verbalized implications, however truthful, could have murdered him on spot.
“Just saying,” Bucky said, shrugging as he kept up with Steve’s sudden strut, a grin audible in his voice. “Communication is key.”
“You need to stop hanging out with Sam,” Steve grumbled. “And I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Bucky snorted, causing Steve’s head to whip in his direction in annoyance. Didn’t Bucky have a lady to tend to? Why did he have to stick around and poke around Steve’s already exhausted brain and feed the already messy whirlwind of emotion? Oh right. Bucky would say it was payback for all the years Bucky spent saving Steve’s puny ass from the back alleys.
“Right. Just like you had no idea what she was talking about when she called you a hypocrite, because you wouldn’t do the same, try to deliver all the files you could even if it meant you’d bleed the heck out, right? Your real body, that is, because you only have one…”
Goddamnit Bucky.
“Bucky, that’s enough.”
“Nope,” his friend quipped, smiling charmingly at the group of agents they passed in the hallway and briefly, Steve imagined what they had to look like; a brooding Captain practically running away from the sunshine-like Winter Soldier. Clint would call them comedy gold; and Steve didn’t give a damn. Today had been a clusterfuck of disasters with you and him in the centre of it.
“It’s enough when I say it’s enough,” Bucky said matter-of-factly. Steve just shot him another glare as they rounded the corner, the corridor now blissfully empty. And sadly, endless with nowhere to hide. “Too bad, punk. You might be the Captain, but you’re still my friend. I’ll be bothering your reckless ass and call you out till the end of the line. And I’m telling you – you two need to get your shit together and make up. And maybe you should finally tell her you’d like to make out. But if I were you, I’d start with that apology.”
Steve stopped so abruptly Bucky nearly collided with him. The flare or anger – because goddammit was Bucky right in certain things and it was truly bothersome to hear those – licked at his gut. As he turned to give his most loyal and precious friend a piece of his mind in return, he found him with a knowing smirk on his face. Why were they friends again?
“Really? An apology?” Steve questioned, the idea absurd even as guilt had already joined the party a while ago. “For what exactly? She should have--- one of those days, she’s gonna-” Steve swallowed against the lump in his throat. He did not like the way the sentence could end. How you could end. But he’d scream at you again before he’d admit that; you brought out that side of him for some reason. You brought out a lot of things, most of them unpleasant. Most of them. “She should have followed orders.”
Bucky’s eyebrows jumped to his hairline – which wasn’t too high given how much he’d let his hair grow, but it still served the purpose of irritating Steve.
“Sure she should. And if you have always followed orders, I’d be dead.”
Steve winced as if he got punched in the gut, all flames of anger put out at once. Bucky just shrugged, unbothered by his hypothetical death.
“That’s a fact, punk. And here’s another: your mother would have boxed your ears for treating a lady the way you just did.”
And this isn’t you, Steve heard the unspoken words and with those he couldn’t argue.
The truth was, Steve didn’t recognize himself around you. He hadn’t more than once but it had never got as intense as it had just now. He felt almost possessed, an astral projection of his own, except he couldn’t control it as it raised its voice like that, in front of the whole team no less. And the worst thing was, it wasn’t a projection; the blame was entirely on him as he failed to contain the onslaught of emotion so sharp and large that he just let it all out. Almost all of it.
The one urge he tried to contain was the one to just slam you to a wall and scream the whole truth before he’d vent his frustration with you in a completely different way, with nips of teeth on that lower lip of yours, always pouting a bit when you got into one of your not so frequent but not so rare arguments, having you scream his name in ecstasy instead of defiance, a breathy whine of Mighty Captain without the snark. He was sure that would have raised a few eyebrows, but hopefully the room would clear in three seconds flat after your back would have hit the wall.
In all honesty, the whole scene had been surreal as it was; Steve had had trouble recognizing you as well. You had disagreed with him a few times, yes, you challenged his authority and questioned his decisions, yes; he had a pretty strong feeling that he was most definitely not your favourite person and more often than not, he didn’t quite understand you – but you had never so blatantly disobeyed an order. You had never endangered a mission or your teammates, never played this much of a Russian roulette, even if one might call you an overachiever which sometimes came with a bit of recklessness by default.
It was true that you could be unpredictable at times; one day you followed instructions to a tee, dutiful, meticulous even; another day, you stood firmly in opposition. One day you dotted on others in almost an overbearing quality, another day it was like you evaporated from the face of Earth, completely absent. But what came over you today, Steve had had no idea – you had been not only reckless, but to a great point, careless. Steve’s mind was blown, but not in the good sense.
That said, he was not pleased with himself either, particularly with the fact was that he had acted impulsively during the mission too. You were definitely right to call him out on it; but that didn’t mean he liked it.
He glanced at Bucky, who was watching him with one corner of his lips still raised knowingly, only fuelling Steve’s ire. Despite all that, Steve knew Bucky was right. And unlike when he was in your presence, he didn’t feel the need to deny that completely.
Sarah Rogers, god rest her precious soul, would have been profoundly disappointed in his behaviour and she would have let him hear it too, despite the infinite kindness and forgiveness she had carried in her heart.
“I know,” Steve sighed. “I shouldn’t have--- she’s just so- I-“
“I know, punk,” Bucky said forgivingly. “I know. That girl has some serious fire in her and she’s not the easiest to deal with, even if she means well, no doubt. Who does that only remind me of…?”
Steve glared at him, unimpressed – he was aware, thank you very much. Not only opposites attracted. Though he was quite certain this attraction was one-sided; and completely insane.
Bucky just grinned and patted Steve’s shoulder.
“Take a nap, Steve. We all deserve one, even if things didn’t go as planned. We’ll get them next time – as a team. Share some of that burden you strap to your shoulders every time to strap on that shield, would you? It can do wonders, believe me.”
“You really do need to stop hanging out with Sam and spend more time with Nat,” Steve uttered, a small smile gracing his lips.
“Shut up, punk, you love me mental health conscious.”
A full grin attacked Steve’s lips now, troubles forgotten momentarily, unlike the fact why Bucky Barnes was his best friend.
“Jury’s out, jerk” 
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Even as you felt the fire of rage slowly dying, you tried to feed it; because it kept you on your feet. You had not in fact went to lie down, even as you felt those feet dragging more than walking to Natasha Romanoff’ office. She didn’t spend too much time in it, always having better things to do than paperwork, but you knew she’d want her report to be done as fast as possible to move on exactly to those more important things.
And you knew that as long as she was there, her office was conveniently the best place to talk, the camera system disabled.
“Well, hello,” the redhead hummed as she had Jarvis let you storm in, breathless for more than one reason.
Your abdomen was throbbing, but you didn’t have time for that. It wasn’t like you were going to bleed out from a non-existent wound.
“We need to go back there and fix it.”
The infamous Black Widow only raised her eyebrow at your dishevelled state and frantic words, leaning back into her chair. You admitted you had to be a sight to the devil himself since you probably looked like hell, but you rarely let that stop you.
“Water under bridge, Spectre. The base is blown so there’s nothing to go back to and the rest of them will go deep under-“
You shook your head, stalking to her desk, leaning onto your hands, fingers spasming at the bite of pain. Bad idea. And bad phrasing.
“No, Natasha, we—” She scanned you head to toe, her other eyebrow arching as well as you had boldly invaded her space, practically asking to be removed. Violently. You didn’t have the energy to lean back, not right away. You weren’t friends, so you had no right to be so close, but she’d get over it, you were sure. The worst thing to happen would be her breaking off your wrist or something. “What I mean is that we have to act now and get those files. All of them.”
Her gaze zeroed on your face, unnervingly searching and seeing, head tilting to side in genuine curiosity.
“What exactly was in those files that it made you hesitate? You rarely ignore orders,” she stated matter-of-factly, causing you to retreat and step back. Oh. Crap. Black Widow in offensive. She walked around the desk, leaning her weight onto it, crossing her arms over her chest. “What did you see, Spectre?”
You gulped; there was no way around it, even as panic made your breathing even harder. There were so many things wrong with what you were about to say and you had no capacity to analyse why you felt the way you felt about it, let alone why you felt even worse about the fact you were the reason why you hadn’t got the intel to others.
“Steve’s initials.”
Even as her brows had smoothened, they arched again now, eyes growing wide. You swallowed against the lump in your throat.
“I tried to copy it and just opened it for a bit, too immersed to notice the unfriendly. Naturally, I got the bullet for my trouble before I neutralized him, but that’s beside the point,” you said, not missing the corner of her lips twitching. “They were… Natasha, they weren’t just some photos or whatever. Those were… they were inventing some shit. It was physics, chemistry, half of the things I didn’t understand, but I don’t think they were replicating the serum – I think they were trying to neutralize it, neutralize Steve specifically.”
And there was no way I was going to leave that there, was left unspoken, but she heard it. Of course she did; this was Natasha Romanoff you were talking to. She didn’t need you two to be friends to read between the lines of what you were saying.
“I see,” she said slowly, the damn intensity of her gaze not relenting. “And you didn’t tell Steve that when he was yelling you down, because…?”
“It was irrelevant.”
“Bullshit.”
“He wouldn’t believe me.”
She scoffed, glaring you down. “That’s bullshit too and you know it.”
Okay, that was fair. But believing was a lot different from taking action. His damn pride would have still had him snapping you back to your real body even if you had yelled at him through the comms what kind of intel you had been carrying on the drive before he messed it up for you – and him. What the heck had he been thinking, breaking your concentration like that? The utter confusion at his actions – because surely it couldn’t have been he had been so angry with you to endanger the mission – only made the matter of your fight worse.
Natasha was right, however – that was just water under bridge. You sure as hell weren’t about to go ask him what possessed him to be more insufferable than normal and you could hardly fly to the pile of debris you had left behind when the place blew up to search for scraps of hard drives.
“Fine. I didn’t think he’d take it seriously,” you admitted at last.
“Now we’re talking,” Natasha said, nodding, a small smirk appearing on her lips, making you frown.
She sure was taking it in stride all of sudden, almost as if--- was she amused? You hoped that was only a mask and in her sharp mind, she was already building a battleplan. She had to. She was one of Steve’s closest friends, real friends, you knew as much. Sometimes her nonchalance truly irritated you. Would it kill her to show more emotion?
Hypocrite.
“But that’s not enough,” she added. “Steve, bless his heart, can be an ass, but not a complete idiot. Any other particular reason why you’d keep it from him?”
Your face was a mask of neutrality. Or you hoped so.
“Nope.”
Natasha watched you sceptically and you swallowed against the lump in your throat.
Naturally, there was a plethora of reasons and on top of them sat the fact that he’d know. He’d know how much you cared. He probably figured out anyway and maybe he wasn’t one to make fun of you for that – scratch that, he definitely wasn’t, he was too much of a good guy for that – but that meant nothing. Caring for people was dangerous; caring for people when you failed meant they’d be taken away. Having people to care for – good people – was a privilege, a reward, one that could easily be confiscated unless you reached perfection.
And yes. You knew Steve Rogers was a good guy, even when he decided to yell at you in front of everyone and challenged you and made you want to smash him against the wall and bite into his stupid plump lower lip and then cuddle him and tell him he didn’t have to be so strong and that people cared about his safety too. Of course you knew he felt pain, but he just never showed it, and it was just so damn irritating, because you needed him to be only human too, so you wouldn’t feel so pathetic despite your powers, so you’d feel a little more worthy. You were well-aware that your way of thinking wasn’t healthy, especially since Steve was a person you could never and should never compare yourself to because that standard was just impossibly high, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t try to meet it. That didn’t mean your family hadn’t set the standards just as high. Perfection was not an unreachable standard, even as it always seemed to be out of reach for you.
However, knowing that precisely that was one of the main reasons why you admired Steve as much as you wanted to punch him to his perfect teeth didn’t help you coexist with him or stopped you from acting like a five-year-old in his vicinity.
On top of that, you were fully aware of how disappointed he would be in you for failing in one particular task which you were sure he considered the most important one: to have your teammates’ six. And you wouldn’t handle that; you were selfish even to that point. To have Captain Rogers learn you hadn’t been strong and fast enough to retrieve data which increased the chance of keeping a key member of your team safe and watch his reaction up close would break your damn barely patched up heart.
Natasha continued to watch you as you zoned out, her smirk growing. “Right. No other reason at all then.”
Oh, she knew about it all, alright. You had no doubt. She might not show much emotion, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t mastered reading other people’s tells. If you had any emotional capacity left, you’d be ashamed at how your face burned under her watchful gaze.
“Will you please tell the others about the files?” you asked instead, causing her to tilt her head to side a fraction again.
“I will, but why should I? Why, when you can be the one to do it? If nothing else, you should tell Steve,” she said, almost motherly you supposed – not that you’d know. “Those were files about him – he deserves the truth and to hear it from you. I’m sure he’d be less angry with you too.”
Somehow, her last suggestion was even more terrifying than Steve Rogers being all in your face and snarling. You attempted a smile, masking the anxiety curling in your gut by exhaustion.
“Maybe. I just… it might be childish, but I don’t… I don’t have the energy for that now. Tell me what else I can do and I will, but not that.”
She watched you silently for several long moments, a small smile curling up her lips – almost a compassionate one. What was it with people and their damn compassion today? You had fucked up. Why was Steve the only one to acknowledge that and why was he relatively nice about it in the end, just like Natasha now? Frankly, as much as you preferred not being completely on Black Widow’s bad side, earning her pity was exponentially worse.
“You know, most things are not going to go away just because you pretend that they don’t exist. Least of all feelings.”
It’s been working out pretty well for you, you wanted to throw back, but Bucky Barnes, the love and the lover who was one of the few people who could slip under the hard shell of Natasha Romanoff, would probably argue with you that it worked for her the best when she did let someone in. But unlike you, Natasha Romanoff did not make mistakes and was an epitome of perfection herself so she could afford that. Natasha Romanoff was terrifying; you’d like to watch someone try to mess with her.
You, on the other hand, were no Black Widow. You could and even had to keep pretending in order to exist.
“Just watch me.”
She sighed, letting her hands fall to her sides. “Go to bed, Spectre. I know you still feel that gunshot wound.”
You froze.
Your heart skipped a beat – several beats, you were sure – because your chest suddenly hurt, panic clawing up your throat anew.
She knew. She knew.
How did she--- how? You always fought so hard to hide it, as much as of a pain that was; horrible pun included.
Yes, you sure as hell still felt the gunshot wound. With every move. With every breath. Every time you had strained your muscles to yell back at Steve.
The pain of whatever injury your spectre sustained alwayslingered. Ironically, it was only thing you actually were able to carry when you snapped back. It stayed with you for a while; not the whole time that it would take for the wound to heal, but it still took days sometimes, days of pain whose intensity slowly faded away. An invisible aching wound – like a pain in a phantom limb. There was no evidence of an injury in your body, but your brain still registered it. No therapeutic approach had worked when you finally accepted that despite what you had been taught, this wasn’t normal; only for having to accept that with no solution in sight, it actually was normal. Then again, what was normal when you only had one sample to examine?
“You mostly hide it well, don’t worry,” Natasha’s voice snapped you from your dark thoughts, uncharacteristically soft. “Your secret is safe with me. But that doesn’t mean it should.”
“It definitely should,” you said in at instant, eyes hard despite the tell-tale burn of tears you felt. If anyone knew – anyone else, that was, apparently – you’d be done. Benched forever.
I do feel pain and I don’t have the luxury to switch it off when I snap back into my real body, Steve had thrown at you. If he hadn’t noticed, you were good; you had indeed hid it well enough and that was all that mattered; despite bickering and yelling, he was still willing to work with you. But that would change very quickly; and he had the authority to kick you out of this team and this business completely.
Sure, Natasha had the power to bench you and even fire you as well, but judging by the way she was looking at you now, no matter how disapprovingly and somewhat proud at once, she wouldn’t. It would be okay – as long as she’d keep her mouth shut about it just as Andy had. Andrew Garner, the only person who had known your painful secret and encouraged you to engage with various therapy approaches to rid you off your burden. He had taken the secret to the grave, never having told nor Coulson, nor the rest of his team.
The one person who had known about this was dead; and if that wasn’t a clear enough message that no one else was supposed be trusted with this, you didn’t know what else would.
“It should,” you repeated, inhaling and instantly regretting it. You swallowed as Natasha didn’t miss the tiny hitch in your breath. Dammit you needed to get better at hiding it. And you would. “Please. Tell me what else I can do.”
Perhaps it was your true superpower to make people sigh, not to project into another room, because the redhead observed you for another long moment before sighing again.
“I meant it, Spectre – go to bed. After I’ll tell the others, we might need you. Rested. With as much as you can give.”
One corner of your lips rose in a tired defiant smirk. “I can give everything.”
The look Natasha gave you before you spun on your heels told you that precisely that was both the blessing and the problem. But you didn’t need to be told more than twice to go to bed.
As you walked out, trying your hardest to walk completely straight and not hunch over even a bit, you heard Natasha’s completely exhausted sigh.
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Next chapter
Series masterlist // S.R. masterlist
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Alright folks, life's been quite busy so this was born through sweat and tears and I don't think it will get better any time soon, but hopefully the result will be worth it 🥰
There are and will be a few distant references to Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. I think you should be fine whout having watched the show.
Thank you for reading 🥰 As always, if you have he time and energy, I'd greatly appreciate your reblogs and feedback, be it even a key smash or yelling at me should the need arise 🤭
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hsllfirescoopsreblogs · 2 months
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╰┈➤ 18+ none of these stories belong to me! this is a masterlist of all steve rogers stories i’ve read and reblogged! just thought it would be nice to have them all in one spot! (if your fic is on here and you wish not to be, please let me know!)
MASTERLIST • MARVEL MASTERLIST • 04/16/24
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: ̗̀➛ code blue by @bonky-n-steeb
✮ Steve is angry on you for behaving recklessly and you decide to let him take his anger out on you in a very unprofessional way...
: ̗̀➛ oh captain my captain by @starryevermore
✮chris knows how much you enjoy captain america, so he makes sure you live out all of your fantasies. (chris evans pretending to be steve rogers)
: ̗̀➛ it’s you that i lie with by @lipstickbisous
✮pt 1- steve rogers realizes that his love for you is unparalleled, but when he chooses to return to you by the lake, he receives a certain visit from the time variance authority
: ̗̀➛ mr. perfectly fine by @sparkleofpizza
✮Hello, Mr. perfectly fine, how’s your heart after breaking mine?” - Taylor Swift (Mr. Perfectly Fine)
: ̗̀➛ @espinosaurusrexex
☾ forever, of course
✮Steve has a crush on you but your flirty character isn’t making things easy for him. Now he even has to marry you to please a 6-year-old superfan of his. Whether that’s a good plan or not, isn’t quite clear for Steve yet.
☾ watchful eyes
✮When your best friend gets you a new job, cleaning the apartment of the most successful man in New York City, you don't hesitate to accept. The pay is more than good, and the man himself is better than any eye candy you have ever seen. Unbeknownst to you, you've caught his attention just as much. Steve can't keep his mind off you, so much so, that he drives everyone around him insane with his grumpiness when you aren't around. It seems like he has to take matters into his own hands when he realizes, you're too shy to take things further yourself.
: ̗̀➛ something new by @buckyownsmylife
✮The one where Steve moved onto another woman’s arms after the blip, but now that you’re back…
: ̗̀➛ back to you by @literaryavenger
✮You've always been there for Steve, and now you're watching him go back to the girl he always wanted.
: ̗̀➛ hideout by @ronearoundblindly
✮Grant, a guest at your middle-of-nowhere motel, has needs not covered by the usual turn-down service.
: ̗̀➛ he’s just not into you by @sergeantbarnessdoll
✮Steve isn’t into Sharon, but he’s in Y/N.
: ̗̀➛ to know him is to love him by @anonymityisfunwriter
✮ to know steve rogers is to love him. to know him is to keep handing over your heart over and over again. to know him is to be broken by him.
: ̗̀➛ airbag by @ichorai
✮ five time steve tries to propose to you, and one time he actually does.
: ̗̀➛ lift by @str-spangled-banner
✮ You confess to Steve that you’ve always wanted to do the Dirty Dancing lift. Somehow, he agrees to do it with you.
: ̗̀➛ caught by @moonlightyeager
✮ you and steve get caught
: ̗̀➛ you’re stuck with me by @your-eternal-lies
✮ As his perfectly normal civilian neighbour, you’ve always been secretly curious about the Captain. Getting to know him while trapped together in your building’s elevator, however, definitely wasn’t on the agenda.
: ̗̀➛ hangry by @just-another-blog-of-fluff
hopefully all links work, let me know if not <3
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peakyswritings · 6 months
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Heart, Body and Soul || Tommy Shelby x OC
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PART V
Summary: As they get closer, Tommy and Nina start to realise that their time together is limited. However, an unexpected event makes the tables turn.
Warnings: mentions of arranged marriage, slow-burn, small age-gap (Tommy’s 30, Nina is in her early 20s), time-typical misogyny, mentions of war, mentions of mutilation, this chapter contains triggering themes, such as sexual assault and violence. Read at your own risk.
A/N: I hope this is worth the wait! Useful information: in the first part of this chapter Nina is 17. She’s depicted as naive, maybe a bit too much for a seventeen-year-old, but bear in mind that she grew up in an extremely conservative environment. Also, I wrote all the dialogues in English because it would’ve been too much of a mess to switch between the languages, so keep in mind that whilst the dialogues between Nina and Agnese could be in both languages since they’re bilingual, the ones between Nina and Stefano are technically in Italian. Last, some things from the previous chapters are really important for this one. I do not claim any ownership to the dialogues excerpts taken from the show. English is not my first language.
After this way too long note, I hope you enjoy this chapter☀️
PREVIOUS PART
SERIES MASTERLIST
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Dividers credit
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1915, five years earlier
“They say Italy might join the war soon.”
It was the first time Nina voiced her concerns. She always had the feeling that if she expressed what was troubling her out loud, it would inevitably, irrevocably become true. But she had been bottling up that fear of hers for weeks now, and it had been growing and growing, consuming her from the inside. The weight of the basket she was carrying was nothing compared to the weight of uncertainty, of not knowing what to expect.
“They say that at your school?” Agnese asked absentmindedly, looking in the windows of the small bakery they always used to stop by when they were children, because they knew the owner would give them freshly baked biscuits for free.
“They say that everywhere,” Nina murmured, kicking a stone with her foot.
Agnese had heard about that possibility, and it scared her as well, but she didn’t fully understand the extent of the seriousness of the situation. No one ever bothered to explain it to her, and every time she asked questions about it, her family would just brush it off. She shouldn’t trouble herself with such nonsense, they said. And although she could ask Nina, she never found the courage to do it, far too ashamed of her own ignorance. Her cousin knew lots of things, talked about serious matters, had opinions that contrasted with everything they had ever been taught, and most of the times Agnese had troubles following the things she said. But she said them with such conviction, such mastery that she couldn’t help but agree with her. And she suspected that the reason why no one ever listened to Nina was because they had troubles following her as well. There was something unsettling in her cleverness.
“I’m worried about my brothers,” Nina admitted. “They’re old enough to be enlisted.”
Agnese shifted her attention back on her cousin, sending her a sympathetic look. “Maybe we won’t enter the war. And even if we do, maybe they won’t have to go. Your father can find a way to-”
“They’re not cowards,” Nina interrupted her with resolution, shaking her head. “The Spinietta brothers are cowards. Pietro and Salvatore are not like them.”
“What do the Spiniettas have to do with it?”
“I heard my father say that if we join the war, Mr. Spinietta already knows who to talk to to make sure his kids are not enlisted. He’ll shake a few hands, make a few threats, and they will be safe and warm in their houses. He might even send them to America, they have relatives there.”
Truth was, Nina wished they’d be sent to America. She wanted them to be as far away as possible from her, from the village. They walked around as if they owned every street, every shop, every person; as if everything was owed to them, because they had money and power. But everybody knew where that money came from. And even though she was aware that her family wasn’t any different, that their own money was mostly blood money, she still believed that her brothers were better than them.
“They’re cowards. Cowards and bastards, that’s what they are,” she gritted her teeth.
“You can’t say things like that,” Agnese hissed with wide eyes, frantically looking around to make sure no one was there to hear her. “Lower your voice.”
“I’m just telling the truth. They’re bastards. Sick bastards. You’ve seen how they’ve dragged that poor girl in their car, last week.”
Nina watched as her cousin pressed her lips together, avoiding her gaze. The episode had left both of them with a bitter taste in their mouths, and a feeling of powerlessness that haunted them still. They didn’t know why they had done what they had done, what they would do to her, but somehow they knew it wouldn’t be anything good. Because despite the kind smiles they were wearing and the false gentleness with which they had guided her into the car, it was clear that they were forcing her. The two cousins heard some girls say that she wasn’t the first, and probably wouldn’t be the last, and that the reason why they targeted her was because she had no father nor brothers.
Everyday since that day, Nina cursed herself for not intervening. Would things have gone differently, if she had said something? Would she have been in trouble as well? What kind of trouble was that girl even in? She didn’t have the answers.
Now she carried a pocket knife with her. If they even tried to get close to her, or to another girl in her presence, she wouldn’t be afraid to use it.
“You still can’t say things like that.”
“It’s not like they can do anything,” Nina shrugged.
There was a delicate balance between the families, assured by mutual fear and by the possibility of a bloodbath that wouldn’t suit anyone. But even that wasn’t enough to guarantee peace, one wrong step was all it would take to disrupt that balance. It was like a bomb waiting to explode.
“I need to buy some thread for my mum,” Agnese changed the subject, stopping in front of a shop. “Wait for me here.”
As her cousin disappeared into the shop, Nina placed the heavy basked on the ground to clench and unclench her sore hand. She slightly rubbed the red marks which were appearing on her palm, wincing at the pulsating sensation. The rev of an engine came to her ears, and before her mind could register what was happening, a car stopped in front of her. Stefano Spinietta stuck his head out of the window and sent her a smile, showing a perfect set of white teeth. “You want a ride home?”
Nina frowned, trying to suppress the feeling of disgust that came over her at the mere sight of his face. “No.” She said firmly, the lump in her throat preventing her from saying anything else. She had always hated how nervous she was when he spoke to her, when he looked at her. He always looked at her as if he wanted something from her. What it was, she could not tell, but it made her feel incredibly uneasy. His handsome features and immaculate manners didn’t fool her.
“Don’t worry, I don’t bite,” he taunted her, getting out of the car. “Let me help you with that.” Stefano reached his hand towards the basket, but before he could take it, Nina pushed it away with her foot. A glimmer of amusement flashed through his eyes, lighting up his face.
Her hand went to her pocket, and she clutched the small knife tightly, the weapon giving her a new found sense of security. She looked right into his eyes, and spoke enunciating each word carefully. “I said no.”
“I just wanna take you home,” Stefano insisted, his stupid smile still plastered on his face. “C’mon, get in the car.” He took ahold of her arm, slightly squeezing it as if he wanted to reassure her.
A wave of uncontrollable rage coursed through Nina, and in a matter of seconds she had him pushed against his car, her blade grazing his throat. Surprise spread across his features as he looked down at her.
“Touch me again,” she said through gritted teeth, “and I’ll cut your throat.”
Silence fell between them as they glared at each other in an unspoken competition, both of them waiting for the other to cave in. Nina forced herself to keep her burning gaze on him, while every muscle in her body urged her to run away. Instead, she didn’t move, head high, hand steady. She wouldn’t bend. She couldn’t bend. Stefano slowly held his hands up in surrender, the shadow of a grin playing at the corners of his mouth. Under her confused look, he slightly leaned forward, causing the blade to pierce his skin, and a trickle of blood seeped from the small wound, red, thick. It ran all the way down to Nina’s hand, and its slimy texture almost made her flinch. Stefano, on the other hand, had regained his composure, as if he was the one in control of the situation, as if he didn’t have a knife pointed at his throat.
“I’m sorry,” he breathed out, staring at her with an indecipherable look in his eyes.
Nina hesitated for a moment, then, with a swift movement, she took a step back and placed the knife back in her pocket, suddenly aware that she had held her breath the whole time. Stefano sent her one last glance, before turning around and going back in his car without saying another word.
As he drove away, she glanced down at the crimson stain on her hand with wide eyes, her heart thumping in her chest. When Agnese walked out of the shop, unaware of what had just happened, she closed her shaking fingers in a fist, and hid her hand into her pocket.
“What’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,” her cousin chuckled, looping her arm though hers. “Let’s go home.”
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Present day
“I swear to God, I swear to God…she gave me sixpence. She sends me to the shop for margarine, eggs and bread. When I came back…”
“With a top hat and a coconut,” Nina shook her head, a laugh escaping her lips.
“And that was all the money we had for the whole fucking week,” Tommy stopped to lit his cigarette, then he raised his eyebrows, a smirk growing on his face. “And me mum beat me with a fucking frying pan.”
“Why the hell did you buy a top hat and a coconut?”
“‘Cause I thought she deserved it. I thought we all did. And I could never understand,” he hit his hand on the table, a hint of some old anger creeping into his voice, “why people like us only had bread and fucking lard. And I wanted to be different. That’s what I wanted.” Silence fell between them as he took a drag from his cigarette, his gaze getting lost in old memories.
Their late-night chats had become a habit now. The night after the first one, for some reason, Nina went downstairs to make herself a cup of tea, and, for the same unknown reason, Tommy went into the kitchen with a dry throat. Just like every night since then. They stayed up late, sharing thoughts, doubts and memories, whispering them into the night and letting it take them away. Over the past week, Nina had come to realise that there was way more than Tommy let on behind his stoic facade, and she found herself wishing to know more. As for Tommy, he liked hearing her talk. She had something to say, and she wasn’t afraid to say it. It was refreshing, and a nice change from the hordes of people who repeated somebody else’s words like parrots, without fully understanding their meaning.
“And you are different, aren’t you?”
The depth of Nina’s eyes became too much to bear. For the first time, Tommy suddenly felt exposed. It was as if she was reading right into him, as if she had him completely figured out, as if every thought, every fear, every unspoken word was no longer a secret. It scared him.
He cleared his throat, stomping out his cigarette. “I heard your brothers also fought in the war.”
“Yes,” she nodded. “They were at Caporetto.”
Pietro and Salvatore still bore the marks of that defeat, both physical and mental. Pietro, the older one, had almost lost an arm in combat, and even though two years had passed, sometimes it still hurt. But in exchange for the arm, the war took something else away from him. There seemed to be nothing left of his once caring nature, and his innate attention for details had turned into a urge to have everything under control. As for Salvatore, the war had enhanced the restlessness that had always distinguished him. He was angry, easily triggered, spiteful. And now he had a deep scar which crossed the left side of his face, making his expression appear even more grim. However, in Nina’s eyes, Pietro was still the boy who fought for her to keep on going to school, just like Salvatore was still the playful kid who took advantage of their size difference to sweep her off her feet and spin her around. But they were not those kids anymore. A line was drawn between Nina and her brothers, and that line became a breach, and that breach had continued to open up until an abyss yawned beneath their feet.
Nina took a sip from her cup of tea, sensing that it might be time to change the subject. The war was clearly a sore point for both of them, although for different reasons. “Agnese told me you like horses,” she sat up straight in her chair, her gaze lighting up with curiosity.
“Yes, I do like horses.”
“When I was a child I wanted to learn how to ride. I even asked my father to buy me a horse for my birthday,” she reminisced, a small laugh escaping her lips. “My mum threatened to leave for good if he ever dared to come home with a horse.”
“So you didn’t get the horse.”
“I didn’t get the horse.”
“You know, I’ve got horses, I could teach you how to ride one,” he proposed, the words escaping his mouth before he could think about what he was saying. Then he realised, and he paused for a moment. He wouldn’t get to teach her. A faint, bitter smile appeared on his lips. “I mean, when you come to Birmingham to visit your cousin.”
Nina couldn’t explain the strange effect his words had on her, the sharp stab of sadness that hit her right in her chest. She brushed off that feeling, telling herself it was just the thought of not seeing Agnese - her only friend and the only ally she had in that family - to cause it.
But Tommy recognised the stinging sensation that was rising up inside him, a sensation he had already felt before. A sensation he couldn’t admit, not even to himself.
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“How are things with Tommy?” Nina casually asked her cousin, struggling to hang a bedsheet on the clothesline to dry in the shared backyard.
A sly smile flickered on Agnese’s face as she glanced at the black-haired girl, keeping on folding the dry clothes. “You call him Tommy now?”
Her question made Nina’s movements come to a stop. She shut her eyes for a moment, cursing herself for letting the man’s name slip out of her mouth. She hadn’t told anyone about how she and Tommy were on better terms, about the frequent conversations that had brought them to that point. She had been extra careful not to show the slightest hint of friendliness towards him in public, for she knew people would talk. She couldn’t risk Agnese getting the wrong idea. “Only when he isn’t around,” she murmured, starting to hang the laundry again.
That wasn’t too far away from the truth, though. Although Tommy did call her by her first name, she didn’t remember ever doing the same with him. She didn’t call him Mr Shelby anymore, either. She just didn’t address him. For some reason, calling him by his name seemed too personal. It felt like crossing a line that was not supposed to be crossed.
“I almost thought you were starting to approve of him,” Agnese joked, letting out a small giggle.
Nina forced a laugh, shaking her head, and a sense of guilt rose inside her. She told herself it was just an innocent, white lie; those secret conversations didn’t mean anything. It wasn’t even a lie, just an omission of truth. A justified omission of truth.
Then why did she feel so bad?
Agnese fiddled with the necklace Tommy had given her, pondering her words. “He doesn’t seem to be…taken with me,” she revealed, a glimpse of worry shining in her green irises. “Don’t get me wrong, he’s a gentleman, and he’s been nothing but polite to me, but… I don’t think he likes me.”
“Agnese, are you joking?” Nina hung the last shirt, before turning towards her cousin. It pained her to see her like that. She was the most beautiful person she knew, inside and out, and she didn’t deserve anything less than being happy. “I’m sure he does. How couldn’t he?”
“What if he doesn’t love me?”
“Love will come with time,” Nina walked up to her to take her hands in hers with a reassuring smile. “Everything will turn out for the best. You have to believe that.”
She felt relieved as Agnese nodded, worry starting to fade from her expression. Truth be told, even Nina didn’t fully believe her own words. She couldn’t be sure that Tommy would grow to love her cousin, nor that they would have a happy marriage; she couldn’t be sure that the war that would follow with Sabini would end well for them. But she said what Agnese needed to hear, because she didn’t have the heart to to make her fears seem even more real.
“Thank you, Nina.” Agnese whispered, wrapping her arms around her. When Nina awkwardly returned the embrace, patting her on the back, her cousin couldn’t hold back a chuckle. It was no secret that Nina wasn’t big on physical affection, but for a few selected people - that she didn’t have the courage to push away - she brought herself to tolerate it. At least she tried.
“I need to help my mum with lunch,” the brown-haired girl said, breaking the hug to grab the basket full of dry clothes. “She’ll have my head if I don’t.”
“You’d better go, then.”
As Agnese walked back to her house, Nina finished hanging the laundry, humming a little song to herself. She tried to keep her mind busy with futile thoughts, like what Winston might be doing in that moment, what she would eat for lunch, which book she would start to read after finishing the one she was currently reading. She thought about anything and everything in order to keep her mind off Tommy, Agnese and their departure, off her father and what he had told her that day in his study, off the uncertainty about how her life would turn out. It was a nice day, and she didn’t want to plague herself with such worries. However, in the back of her mind, all of that was still present, poisoning even the nicest of thoughts.
When she turned around, the figure of a man leaning against the wall of the house made her flinch. Stefano Spinietta was standing there in silence, observing her, and she had to fight the urge to ask him how long he had been staring at her. “What are you doing here?” She frowned, collecting herself.
“Business meeting. Your father gave me permission to spend some time with you, while he talks with mine,” he explained, pushing himself away from the wall.
A scowl formed on Nina’s face, and a new wave of irritation ran through her, this time directed at her father. All that speech about him wanting her to make the decision for herself was, indeed, just speech. Words he had said to keep her nice and quiet as he indirectly pushed her down the path he had charted for her. “What makes you think I want to spend time with you?”
Stefano’s lips curled in his ever-present grin, as if he found great amusement in her reactions. But that was exactly the point, to some extent. It had become a game to him, some sort of dark, twisted game. The more she rejected him, the more stubborn he became. Something that had started years ago as a mere interest, had slowly taken a different turn. He wanted her, he had been wanting her since she had drawn a knife at his throat. She was carved under his skin just like the scar her blade had left on his neck. There was something about her. Maybe it was her defiance, her refusal to bend, to mould herself into what she should be. He could make her. He could smother the flames of her fierceness and turn her into a quiet pretty thing. “Why do you always have to be so hostile?” He asked her, squinting his eyes.
His question made Nina’s annoyance grow even more. As if he had no clue of how much he had pestered her all those years. Now he had the courage to act all innocent, to play the part of the nice, polite guy who was just courting a girl he liked. He might’ve fooled everyone with that act, but he had never fooled her. “You asked my father his blessing to marry me.” She snapped, taking some steps in his direction. “Did you really think he’d say yes?”
“He never said no.”
“I did.”
Silence fell between them as they stared at each other, once again refusing to be the first to cave in. But this time it didn’t take Nina any effort to keep her eyes on him. She wasn’t a naive seventeen-year-old anymore. Now she knew what it was that he wanted from her. And his gaze didn’t intimidate her anymore.
“Listen to me, Stefano, and listen to me carefully, because I’m not going to repeat myself,” she said in a low voice, coming even closer to him. “You disgust me. You and all your kind,” she spelled out, making sure to emphasise each word. “And I’d much rather jump in front of a train than marrying you.”
Stefano didn’t say anything, at first. He just clenched his jaw, and his hands balled into fists by his side. Then he broke into a half-smile, one that didn’t reach his eyes, trying not to let his wounded ego show. “I’ve been nice to you, and yet you keep on insulting me.”
This time it was him who got closer, towering over Nina. His eyes darkened, and he looked at her with such contempt that for a moment she had the impression he might hit her. With a quick, sudden movement, he grasped her jaw, and before she had the time to react, he turned to push her against the wall. She looked up at him, trying not to show an ounce of fear as her heart increased its speed.
“My patience has limits. And you shouldn’t forget who you’re talking to,” Stefano gritted out through clenched teeth, digging his fingers in her cheeks. His whole body shook with anger, and the mask of politeness he always hid behind began to fall apart. “You’re playing with fire.”
The same uncontrollable rage that years ago gave Nina the courage to point a knife at him now gave her the strength to stomp on his foot, making him hiss and take a step back. Taking advantage of his distraction, she darted forward, but as soon as he tried to escape, Stefano forcefully slammed her against the wall again, holding her in place by the throat. A sharp sting of pain flashed through her spine at the impact with the cold surface, and a whimper escaped her lips as the air was knocked out of her lungs. Fury flared in Stefano’s dark eyes, but then something changed in his expression. His pupils dilated, and he seemed to lose any kind of control over his actions as his hand left her throat to slowly wander down her body.
An overwhelming sense of panic started to rise inside Nina. She wriggled, trying to free herself from his grasp. “Stop,” she raised her voice, but Stefano promptly covered her mouth with the other hand, pressing his body against hers. She squeezed her eyelids shut when his hand became more insistent, squeezing her small breast in a painful hold, then travelling down to her hipbone to keep her still with bruising force. His hot breath burned on her skin as he leaned over her, bringing his face closer to hers. Nina tried to turn her head in response, but the hand he still had on her mouth wouldn’t allow it. She emitted a muffled sound, bringing her hands to his chest to push him away, but he was too strong, and twice her size. All her desperate efforts to put some space between them were useless. He was a rabid animal, a wild beast devoid of any rational thinking as he ground against her, trying to slide his filthy hand under her skirt. Nina’s face scrunched in disgust, and her whole body stiffened under this touch. A whirlwind of thoughts swirled around in her head, endless, confusing, as if she couldn’t exactly register what was happening.
Then he stopped. Much to Nina’s surprise, Stefano suddenly seemed to come to himself, and he took his hand off her mouth. But there wasn’t a hint of guilt, or regret, in his eyes. On the contrary, he looked almost satisfied. And then she realised. He had been in command of his actions the whole time. “What, you don’t talk anymore?” He asked provocatively.
Nina’s wide eyes rested on Stefano in shock. The lump in her throat kept on growing and growing, making it impossible for her to utter a single sentence. She swallowed, trying to regain some kind of control over her emotions, to force herself to speak, and when she did, she faked a confident tone. However, the trembling in her voice betrayed her fear. “Once my family hears about this, you’ll-”
“I didn’t do anything you didn’t want, love,” he interrupted her, furrowing his brows, his face assuming a perplexed expression.
“What…” she batted her eyelashes in confusion, her voice barely above a whisper. “No, I didn’t...” the words died in her throat as the awareness of his implications started to set in.
Stefano leaned in, bringing his hand to her cheek to caress it with fake tenderness, and a terrible smile made its way on his face. “Who do you think they’ll believe?”
Nina shook her head, a feeling of helplessness she had never felt before taking over her. She just wanted him to leave. She wanted him to take his hands off of her. She wanted to kick him, to scream at him, to dig her nails in his face deeply enough to make him bleed, and yet all she could do was look at him in silence.
But then someone must’ve heard her prayers, because Stefano was abruptly pulled away from her. It was as if some kind of supernatural gust of wind had ripped him away from her body, freeing her from the heavy weight that had her pressed against the stone surface. Except that it wasn’t some supernatural force. The person who had grabbed Stefano by the collar of his shirt was very much human.
“The fuck are you doing?” Tommy growled, his knuckles turning white from the tight grip he had on the man. Stefano, not understanding a word he had said, just raised his hands, as if to show that he meant no harm.
Tommy had recognised the guy. He was the one they had met two weeks ago in the city, the one who had given him a bad feeling as soon as they had met. He couldn’t explain the pure rage he had felt when he caught him holding Nina against a wall. Her scared, helpless expression was all it took for him to see red and launch at the Italian man. The thought of what could’ve happened if the meeting with the Ferrantes and the Spiniettas had finished just a bit too late made his skin crawl. Still holding him by the collar, Tommy raised his fist, driven by the sudden urge to break his nose, but before he could land the blow, Nina’s voice stopped him.
“Don’t!” She exclaimed, causing him to look in her direction. “He’s Spinietta’s son,” she frantically explained, getting a bit closer, but still keeping herself at safe distance.
Tommy shifted his eyes on the Italian man again, his fist still in the air, and pondered for a few seconds. Although Stefano couldn’t understand Nina’s words, he probably had a vague idea of what she had said, because the corners of his lips tugged upwards as he stared at Tommy steadily. Nina held her breath, her heart skipping a beat at the Italian’s implicit provocation. Tommy was really close to doing something that might put him in a dangerous situation, and it seemed like Stefano was doing everything in his power to encourage him. It was part of his fun, of his sick little game.
Feeling his hands itch even more, Tommy charged again, nostrils flaring, almost letting his impulse win. Fuck Spinietta, he thought to himself. But he was not in Small Heath. Begrudgingly, he lowered his hand and let the guy go with a violent push, making him stumble backwards. “Fuck off,” he snarled, pointing towards the path that led to the main garden to get his message across.
Nina sighed in relief, and she wasn’t sure whether it was because Tommy had made the right choice, or because that situation was over. Stefano took the time to straighten his shirt with unsettling composure. Without saying another word and keeping on watching them, he walked past them, his wicked eyes shining with amusement.
The adrenaline started to wear off, leaving Nina in a growing state of dizziness. The panic, the disgust, the anger. All of that became a single, indistinct mass aiming to engulf her and suffocate her. Her ears started to ring, and she had to fight the instinct to cover them and scream at the top of her lungs.
“Are you alright?” Tommy’s voice came to her ears, snapping her out of her trance.
“Yes.” She nodded, blinking a few times. Now aware of her surroundings, she felt as if she was re-entering her body after rising out of it, and the reality of what had happened was crashing on her. Bile raised in her throat, and she knew that if she had had something in her stomach, she would’ve thrown up. “Yes I’m alright.”
“Nina, you’re shaking,” Tommy noted with a hint of worry in his voice, his own heart still racing in his chest.
“No, no I’m fine,” she insisted, turning her face to hide the tears welling up in her eyes. She tightly crossed her arms over her chest, hoping that her hands would stop trembling. “It’s fine.”
“It’s not fine.” He shook his head, tentatively reaching out to hear. He was approaching her slowly, almost with apprehension, with his palm open, like one would do with a scared stray cat. “Come here.”
Nina hesitated for a while, torn between what she needed and what she was supposed to do, instinct and reason endlessly fighting. For once, she chose to act without thinking. Cautiously, she pulled Tommy into a hug, resting her head against his chest. Hit by an implacable wave of tenderness, he gently wrapped his arms around her, placing his chin on the top of her head. It didn’t make sense, but having her safe in his arms brought him a sense of calmness and security, and his tense body began to relax.
The warmth of his body, his scent, the reassuring sound of his heartbeat, the unfamiliar softness he was showing her; the combination between all of that gave life to a feeling Nina had never felt before, and she couldn’t put a name to it. Between all of that, she was relieved by the awareness that, at least for that moment, she didn’t need to be strong. Tears began to spill out, and her facade fell for the first time.
When a suffocated sob escaped her lips, shaking her slender shoulders, Tommy’s heart painfully clenched in his chest. His hand found the back of her head, and he started to soothingly run his fingers through her soft dark hair. He wanted to say something, but he knew that there was nothing he could say that would make it better. So he held her tighter, as if he could shield her from harm with the sole strength of his arms.
“Breathe, love,” he whispered when he noticed that, in an attempt to hold back her sobs, she had tensed up a bit too much. “Breathe.”
Nina took a deep breath, focusing on Tommy’s deep voice and the delicate motion of his fingers through her hair.
“There you go,” he murmured encouragingly, feeling her calm down against him. She sniffled, snuggling even closer, and, once again, Tommy was overwhelmed by the need to protect her.
They couldn’t care less if someone saw them. In that moment, their embrace was the only thing that mattered.
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Laying on her side with her knees drawn up, Nina stared at the shadows created by the small lamp on her bedside table. She could still feel the heaviness of Stefano’s hands on her, the burning of his hot breath on her skin, the suffocating smell of his cologne. She only wanted to get rid of those hands, that breath, that smell. She would gladly rip off her whole skin if it meant to forget.
She hated herself for allowing him to make her feel small, weak, for he had made it quite clear that was what he wanted. Because even though for a moment he had indulged in the temptation, he wouldn’t actually dare go through with it, not in her house. His purpose was to show her that he could overpower her at any time.
But then came feeling of being wrapped in Tommy’s arms, of being pressed against his strong frame, the feeling she had been desperately trying to give a name to. Until it occurred to her. Safe. She had felt safe.
A soft knock on the door of her bedroom pulled her out of the vortex of thoughts. She sat up on the bed, crossing her legs beneath her. “Come in,” she said, but her voice was so feeble that she doubted the person on the other side had heard her. Still, the door opened, and in the dim, warm light, Tommy’s figure appeared on the doorstep.
He had never been in her room, but somehow it was exactly like he had imagined it. Ivory-coloured walls covered in a pattern of small flowers, dark wooden furniture, lace curtains. Handwritten sheets of paper scattered all over the desk, along with pens and pencils. It was bit messy and full of books, and it smelled like her. A mixture of lavender and honey.
When that night Tommy had come out of his room, the first thing he noticed was the unsettling silence. No rattle of pots coming from downstairs. But a half-light shone through Nina’s bedroom door, and he found himself desperately needing to know how she was. She had been avoiding everyone the whole day.
“I just wanted to check up on you,” his deep voice came out in a low sound, and it held some kind of uncertainty. He wasn’t sure that going to her had been a good idea. Maybe she didn’t want to see him, maybe knocking on her door was too much.
His doubts faded when the ghost of a smile formed on her face, and she motioned for him to come in. He carefully closed the door behind him, then went to sit on the edge of the bed, keeping his distance. A vice-like grip held his stomach when he noticed her puffy eyes and red cheeks. How many times had she cried?
“You’re paler than usual,” Nina teased him to ease the tension, but her voice didn’t hold the bantering tone he had grown used to hear. “You should get some sleep.”
Tommy half-smiled, shifting his gaze on the floor for a moment. But instead of spitting out a retort - contrary to Nina’s expectations - he just nodded. “You’re right,” he conceded.
A sigh escaped Nina’s lips, and she nervously fiddled with her own fingers. He was walking on eggshells, and she didn’t like it, not even a bit. “Please, stop treating me like that.”
“Like what?” He furrowed, looking at her again.
“Like I might break at any moment.”
Tommy said nothing. He could see why she didn’t want to be treated any differently, but she did look like she would break. Not once had she shown a single shred of vulnerability until that day, and it was disarming. Truth was, he didn’t know how to act.
“I’ll forget it ever happened,” she spoke again, this time with resolution, but she didn’t sound fully convinced of what she was saying. “And you should do the same. No one can know about it.”
“You should tell-”
“No,” she firmly interrupted him, Stefano’s veiled threat still echoing in her ears. “I can’t,” she continued, her voice becoming softer.
Tommy suddenly remembered what she told him a week earlier at the beach, and everything became clear. It was all it took to make his blood boil again. The room went quiet, but the silence was soon broken by a faint rustle of sheets, as Nina left her spot to sit closer to him. Honey and lavender filled his nostrils, and he had to restrain himself from inhaling deeply, eager to feel more. More than the light brushing of their arms, separated by the thin fabric of his undershirt. They were barely touching, and yet his skin burned. As hard as he tried to suffocate that feeling, to extinguish that fire, the flames kept on flaring, higher than before. He couldn’t fight it. She placed a hand on his shoulder, and that feather-like contact was enough to send sparks of electricity through his body. “Promise me,” she whispered, “you won’t tell anyone.”
Tommy turned to look at her, and the proximity allowed him to spot a small scratch on her cheek. Without thinking, he delicately ran his finger on it, and he was almost surprised by the feeling of her soft skin under his rough hand. Slowly, even hesitantly, his hand went to cup the side of her face, and he gently rubbed his thumb along her cheek. “I promise.”
Tommy’s hoarse voice, along with the warmth of his hand, sent shivers down Nina’s spine, and her pulse started to race. She couldn’t explain how the closeness of his strong body was making her feel, nor the effect his masculine scent had on her. Aftershave, cigarettes, and a hint of musk. And she couldn’t help but wonder: if she pressed further into him, if she let herself be held by him again, would it lift the weight off her chest? Would it take away the pain, the revulsion, the shame? Would his touch be enough to replace Stefano’s hands?
When he felt Nina unconsciously get closer, Tommy closed his eyes, drowning in her scent, and he could swear there was fire running through his veins. It was as if some unknown force was pulling him towards her, drawing him nearer, and when her soft lips brushed against his, his mind went blank. Every cell in his body was begging him to give in.
No. It wasn’t right.
Nina was vulnerable, too vulnerable, and probably unable to make any conscious decisions. He couldn’t take advantage of her like that. It took all his strength to move away and bring her in to press a kiss on her forehead instead. He lingered there for a few seconds, savouring the moment. When he let his hand fall from her face, the warmth left him, and it seemed to him that his fingers had sharply gotten cold.
Feeling her confused eyes following him, Tommy got up and walked to the door, ignoring the invisible string that was pulling him in the opposite direction. He couldn’t stay in that room any longer. If he did, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to restrain himself.
“Goodnight, Nina.”
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NEXT PART
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