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hausbabylon · 5 months

Text

bigger than the whole sky

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Word count: 5,438

Warnings: Angst, unspecified legal age gap. This is pretty much about Natasha being mourned over and remembered as she deserves. What better day to post than on her birthday?

On December 3rd, you recalled all the wonderful memories you had created with your partner.

June 18th, 2019

Half of humanity was gone.

Each day, you woke up to a world where the sun shone as brightly as ever, permitting the shadow of loss to darken every corner of the souls of the survivors of the Thanos blip. The familiar warmth faded, replaced by only a deep melancholy at the memory of what everyday life used to be. In the blink of an eye, your loved ones vanished, leaving you with the agony of their absence.

You were lost and desolate. You longed deeply to experience just a glimpse of everything you once took for granted, like calling your mother after a long day, hearing the murmurs of people at the coffee shop, or receiving a funny video from your best friend. Just something...

But nothing.

Word of mouth, you heard about a support group that Steve Rogers was leading. The world had become so vast, that breathing the same air as Captain America, with the Black Widow at your side, was no longer an unthinkable madness that would happen only in the most delusional mind. It was a reality.

There you were, realizing that you also had something in common with heroes of international stature. When they weren't all over the news, fighting right-handed in their intimidating suits, they were simply human beings who also wanted to be heard from time to time. They too had a right to break down.

"I..." you looked up, once it was your turn to speak. All eyes were looking at you expectantly, and Natasha Romanoff's eyes on you made your task more difficult. "Well, the barista at the coffee shop I go to informed me about this, uhm.... I'm (Y/N)."

"Hi, (Y/N)," those present responded in unison. The raspy voice of the woman next to you somehow resonated more in your ears than any other. What a woman. Not for nothing had you become interested in the news, only to see her fight so bravely. You always considered her a beautiful woman, and above all, a powerful one.

The only three friends you had always teased you about your crush on the Black Widow. And this alone made you feel worse. They would have loved to see you all flushed and nervous like you were at that moment.

"I remember hating crowds. People rushing around at all hours, often pushing and shoving," you began, looking down at the ground as you fiddled with your hands. "I hated the voices. Sometimes it was so loud that, between them all, they sounded like a swarm of angry bees," some had the strength to only half-smile at your silly analogy, others were unfazed.

Natasha's resilience turned out to be greater than you imagined, she demonstrated it on multiple occasions, but you experienced it live and in full color when she specifically let out a distinguished laugh. It echoed throughout the room, you could hear it loud and clear.

"I know, it was annoying." you said softly, directing your first words specifically towards the redhead, who by the way had a bit of blonde on the ends of her hair, indicating that the dye was fading. It looked beautiful on her. "Anyway," you redirected your attention to the others again. "I know a lot of people here hated that noise. We'd put on headphones so we didn't have to listen to anyone," you continued, and earned a nod of agreement from everyone present. "Well, now, I put my headphones on and play audio of people talking. I never thought I'd miss this, or that I'd miss being constantly pushed around, the voice of an annoying customer I have to deal with at work. Besides, everything is slowing down, nobody lives in a hurry anymore, and... well, I think you understand," you let out a nervous chuckle. You had no intention of rambling on too much about it, or you were never going to stop.

"Thanks for sharing," Steve said, giving you a small smile, that smile where he pursed his lips and raised his eyebrows.

Once the meeting was over, you let out a small sigh, grabbed your stuff and headed for the exit.

A voice stopped you as you stood on the other side of the door, causing you to turn and meet again those green eyes that looked so much more beautiful in person. Neither magazine pictures nor news cameras could capture that wonderful pair.

"I just wanted to ask you, if it's not too invasive," she spoke, as soon as you turned around. "Do you have anyone to talk to? Outside of this group, I mean."

"Anyone close? No," you answered honestly. It was the truth. Being highly selective had its consequences, as you were unlucky enough to lose your very few close loved ones; your three best friends, your mother, your aunt and your grandfather. Some family members, previous friends and even exes with whom you cut ties tried to reconnect, but the phrase 'better alone than in bad company' never applied better than in this case. "But if you're talking in general terms, even the person in line at the supermarket can be your confidant and support. You can imagine what it's like."

"I know," she agreed, and thought for a moment before adding, "In supermarkets, products expire before anyone buys them, but it's a good thing, it's an excuse to buy more snacks so they don't go to waste."

You let out a laugh. A full, genuine laugh, and wow... it was the first time in the last year that someone had made you laugh like that. It was a silly joke, yes, but in the midst of so much monotony, the spontaneity was a gift she gave you.

December 3rd, 2023

"You were in fact the only person who made me laugh," you barely managed to formulate the last words before you burst into tears for the fifth time.

Natasha would be turning 39. You both knew that aging was anything but a bad thing, yet she enjoyed ironically saying that she was getting old, even if it was far from the truth. She had no childhood, no adolescence. The concept of old age seemed the most comforting to her.

You forced yourself to take a deep breath, and to swallow your tears. You were talking to a piece of marble with her name carved on it, and you knew that meters underneath there wasn't even a body to mourn over, but you had to let it all out one way or another.

"Happy 39th birthday, my love," you whispered, smiling faintly. "I guess your wish came true. You stayed 38 forever."

December 3rd, 2020

"Oh, my wish is to stay 36 forever!" Natasha exclaimed, with a broad smile, and then blew out the candles on the mini cake you had bought her.

You laughed along with her.

Laughing seemed impossible until she showed up a year and a half ago in your life at that support group. Now laughing seemed as easy as breathing.

You wondered if, somehow, you would have met Natasha. She was a very famous woman, unattainable to everyone including you. The possibility of having lived a life without her terrified you, so much so that it was the first time you were actually grateful that the blip had happened, because it made it possible for her to be sitting on the couch next to you, spending her birthday morning with you after making her her favorite breakfast.

"Oh, come on, Nat," you laughed, as you placed the cake on the coffee table, and started pouring the wine. "You age like this fine wine. I imagine how divine you'll look in your 40s, in your 50s... don't take that away from me," you spoke seriously, as if the candles really did have the power to fulfill her wishes.

She laughed loudly, and took the glass of wine you gave her, "38 is the most I'm willing to age. It is my final offer."

You rolled your eyes playfully, and raised your glass, "Very well. To your penultimate year of aging. Cheers!"

The rest of the morning, and part of the afternoon was spent lazying on the couch, marathoning romantic comedies from the 90s and early 2000s.

Until the clock struck 5:00 p.m., it was one hour before Natasha's adoptive parents arrived, and the nervousness was starting to hit you.

"My love, it's time to get off the couch and get ready," you spoke, pausing the Julia Roberts movie 'Eat, Pray, Love'.

"Ughhhh!" She protested, covering herself up to her head with the blanket resting on top of you both. Said blanket was perhaps twice the size of the two of you, and perhaps three times as heavy. It was the best weapon against the December cold.

"Nat, I don't want your parents to find us in penguin pajamas and ugly sweaters," you laughed, shaking her gently. "I want to make a good first impression. Come on!"

"You're overthinking," she replied, resting her head in your lap, under the blanket. "They won't mind your outfit, and believe me, they'll love you."

You sighed lightly.

"I hope so," you replied, scratching her hair with your fingertips. "I'm much younger than you, and I don't want them to think I'm immature, or..."

"Alexei still insists on wearing his superhero costume, even though it looks tiny on him," Natasha interrupted you, before your head wandered. "Maturity is something that doesn't exist in my family, you take it easy."

You laughed a little, and that little anecdote was enough to give you significant relief. If Natasha said you'd be fine, then it was true.

The redhead was somewhat reserved when it came to her family.

You understood that she wanted to be sure that it was going to be something long and meaningful before she let you into that sacred side of her life, so it wasn't a year and a half after you met her that you finally would get to know the famous Melina and Alexei. You felt more than privileged to know that your relationship with her had already reached that point.

She also always mentioned her little sister Yelena, whom she had lost to the blip. You wished you could have met that other brave soul who destroyed Dreykov and his entire twisted organization, saving thousands of girls and women around the world.

"Well..." she said, suddenly getting up from your lap, as she pulled back the blanket. Afterwards, she planted a quick kiss on your lips. "I need a few minutes to mentally prepare myself and get out of here. Get in the shower and then I'll join you."

Within forty-five minutes, both of you were fully dressed and ready to welcome Melina and Alexei to Natasha's apartment.

The table was set with a white tablecloth, four plates with their respective cutlery and glasses. In the middle was the previously started wine and a bottle of soda that was a little wet, as it had just been taken out of the fridge five minutes before. The older woman's parents would bring takeout dinner and cake, so the table was ready just to serve the food and eat.

Punctually, at 6:00 p.m., you heard the doorbell ring.

You took a deep breath, and together with Natasha, you headed for the door.

Naturally, she was the first to greet them and pull them into a heartwarming embrace, which was somewhat clumsy because it was obstaclized by the bags of food in Melina's hands and the box of cake in Alexei's right arm. You stood there, watching the scene feeling both tenderness and nervousness, because your girlfriend's parents were finally standing in front of you.

The redhead took the cake and a bag of food, and with her head pointed in your direction, "This is (Y/N), (Y/N), this is Melina and Alexei."

With a gentle smile, you waved at them, "It's very nice to meet you, Miss Vostokoff, and Mister Shostakov."

"Oh, let's drop the formalities, c'mere!" Alexei exclaimed, and held out his arms to wrap you in a tight embrace.

You let out a giggle, and accepted his offer. He squeezed you and you let out a playful groan of complaint. Melina, laughing as you did, hugged you once the man released you, however, she was gentler and briefer, concluding it with a rub on your back.

"Please call us by our names," she spoke. "Natasha has talked so much about you that you're not even a stranger. So we don't want to be strangers to you either."

You looked at Natasha, and she smiled broadly, having also enjoyed the scene at your first meeting with her parents.

"Very well," you chuckled. "Please, let me help you with this," you offered, pointing to the single bag she was carrying.

"Oh, thank you," she agreed, passing you the bag.

You and Natasha placed the two bags on the table, and the cake on the kitchen counter.

"Beer?" Natasha offered to Alexei.

"Oh, please!" he exclaimed, sitting down on one of the chairs next to Melina. Across from both of them, Natasha and you would sit.

You heard the sound of two bottles being uncorked, and Natasha was the last to join the table, handing one bottle to Alexei and both of them toasting and then taking a big sip.

The dinner went wonderfully.

Natasha was right, her parents were easy-going and funny, each in their own way. Alexei always had a joke on the tip of his tongue, and Melina, though calmer than him, laughed lightly and added to the joke just to make you all laugh. At the end of the evening, when they bid their fond farewells, you completely forgot how nervous you felt a few hours earlier. They were enchanted with you and the feeling was mutual.

A small meow was heard about a minute after Natasha's parents left, and she stepped forward, opening the window to reveal the black cat sitting on the stairs. Liho always wandered around her building, but Natasha's floor was her favorite due to the redhead always giving her food and treats. She was a very easy cat to love, and it didn't take long for her to grow on Natasha, so she was unofficially adopted by her.

"Sorry, Liho," she said, caressing behind her ears. "You were late. There will be no food for the unpunctual."

"Hey, don't be mean," you teased, reaching up to stroke the cat's cheek. She happily bowed her head, receiving your affection.

"I'm kidding," she let out a giggle, and headed for the kitchen. From there, she pulled out one of the cans of cat tuna she always bought for the feline. Once she placed it in a plate on the floor, the cat ran in her direction and didn't hesitate to devour the dish, making you both laugh. "Oh, thank you so much for coming to visit me for my birthday, little one. You're adorable."

You walked in Natasha's direction, and wrapped your arms around her waist. One thing you loved about her was that, no matter by what kind of physical contact you manifested your love for her, the older woman always seemed to melt at your touch.

"Stay another night," she whispered, entwining your hands in hers and then kissing them.

It was the fifth night in a row she had said that to you. No problem, though, it wasn't the first time it had happened, so you prepared yourself beforehand and packed more clothes to stay with her as long as you both wanted.

"Yes, I have another change of clothes..." you replied. "I think at this point, I'll have more clothes here than at home."

She turned to meet your gaze, and glanced at your lips briefly to lean in and kiss you gently. You, likewise, melted at any action of your girlfriend, and the taste of her lips never failed to delight you immensely.

"Move in with me," she was quick to say, resting her forehead against yours. "Let's find a nice house, let's officially adopt Liho, hell, let's adopt a kid when we're ready. I want everything with you."

December 3rd, 2023

"Did you enjoy your time with Grandma Melina?" You asked the little girl walking beside you in the direction of the car.

"Very much! She taught me some fighting techniques, and then we tried them on Grandpa Alexei," she replied, and you laughed at her statement. "He went down like a sack of potatoes."

Alissa Grace Romanoff.

A girl you and Natasha adopted when she was four years old. Now, at six, you were increasingly amazed at how smart, strong and determined she was, showing an interest in being like her mother but also possessing an artistic sensitive side.

"Did you leave my drawing with mom?" She asked, once you placed her in the back seat of the car and buckled her in.

The little girl remembered Natasha fondly, and longed for her with all her heart. Fortunately, she was at an age where she was more likely to remember more, and you would keep her memory alive in her mind.

You and Natasha worked hard to give her the best memories, so that her childhood was something she looked back on with fondness and happiness, unlike your girlfriend, who couldn't do the same and always avoided to think in the slighest about the matter.

"Of course I did, I left her your drawing and the beautiful flowers you suggested," you confirmed, kissing her small forehead and then heading to the driver's seat.

You needed some time alone in the cemetery every time you visited your girlfriend, even more so on this day. On the one visit where you took your daughter, you broke down to such an extent that she ended up crying a lot more than she initially was.

Knowing that holding back wasn't the best way to go, you preferred to go alone and vent properly. It hadn't even been two months since October 16th, so there were still times when you cried to the point where you couldn't get up from the floor. And when you finally did, your eyes were so swollen that you had to go home and wash your face so that they would look better so as not to worry the little girl.

Melina and Alexei insisted that you visit Natasha first, and as always, they were more than happy to spend time with their granddaughter. Since you got up early, knowing that you would take your sweet time, you returned early as well, so that they would also have their space on this day to visit their beloved daughter.

The day passed quietly.

You bought some lunch, and both of you ate while watching 'Tangled' for the thousandth time, but this movie ended up being background noise, as your daughter continued to tell you about how Merlina did her combat technique demonstrations and Alexei was the 'brave volunteer' who would attack her, even if he wasn't volunteering or brave at all.

At 5 p.m., you sat next to Alissa at the coffee table in the living room, and opened her maths book. She had an assignment to complete a page of two-digit addition problems, and although it was due on Friday, she was always allowed to do it on Sunday afternoons.

You preferred her to do it as soon as possible so she could spent the whole weekend freely with no pending homework, but well, the habit of leaving it until last minute stuck with you because Natasha was a little bit of a softie.

October 30th, 2022

You heard the loud sound of falling metal, causing you to startle and wake up in alarm.

Natasha was not in your bed, and that increased your concern. Maybe it was a thief, a spy, an enemy of Natasha's who broke into the house...

But when you ran to see the source of the sound, you found Natasha in the kitchen, and Alissa sitting at the counter. They both looked in your direction, and smiled innocently.

"We didn't mean to wake you, detka," Natasha spoke, and you noticed the silver bowl in the dishwasher, the one that previously fell and woke you up, nearly giving you a heart attack.

"Oh, what's wrong?" You asked, your eyes half open. The clock on the microwave read one in the morning.

"I went to get a glass of water, and mom was reading in the living room," Alissa explained. "I couldn't sleep, and neither could she."

"So we made Halloween-themed cupcakes," Natasha concluded, pointing with her head towards the oven, whose dim light gave you a view of the cupcakes baking inside it.

You laughed at Natasha's solution, and were deeply touched as well. Any other parent would have made their kid a glass of milk, read a story, or accompanied their child until they fell back asleep, but your girlfriend decided to keep her awake and make Halloween cupcakes.

"I suppose you'll write a note saying that Alissa won't be going to school," you deduced, knowing the redhead very well.

She nodded.

Your daughter didn't even have to pretend to be sick to miss school, she just had to say she didn't want to go and Natasha would melt at her puppy eyes and let her stay home. As much as you hated to be the boring one, you had to set certain boundaries, however, your efficient communication with both of them always led to an agreement without making you look like the bad one. So, if Alissa went to school, on the way home you would stop for ice cream or go to the park.

But of course, this was an occasion where there was no choice but to agree to skip school, otherwise Alissa would be sleepy all day.

"All right, let's start working on the toppings, shall we?" You said with a wide smile.

December 3rd, 2023

"These crayons that Aunt Yelena gave me have very good pigmentation," Alissa commented, as she ran the brownish-red crayon over the white sheet of paper.

You laughed at the use of words. Somehow, she always managed to learn new words and use them appropriately. Little things you noticed and loved about your daughter.

"Oh, the 500 color box she brought from her last mission's trip? What are you drawing?" You asked, looking up from your book to pay attention to her. However, she was quick to cover her work with her arms.

"You can see when I'm done," she established.

Whenever she did the tedious math homework, Alissa redirected her attention to her drawings. She always knew that after working hard, she deserved to do something she enjoyed afterwards. No one told her, she just knew it was the right thing to do, and you were going to fight to death with anyone who dared make her believe otherwise.

Yelena could be considered the world-traveling aunt, except for the fact that it wasn't for fun and more for the purposes of freeing brainwashed Black Widows.

And when she was in town, your daughter would always come back with her sugar at 110% because her Aunt Yelena spoiled her with exaggerated doses of sweets, after taking her to the amusement park or the movies. You had difficulty putting her to sleep, because it was 9 p.m. and Alissa kept running around the house even though you begged her in every possible way that it was time to go to sleep.

So, while she was at the coffee table drawing, you were on the couch with Liho lounging in the other single recliner, taking her fifth nap of the day. The little black cat was no exception when it came to missing Natasha, constantly climbing on the bed on the side that used to be where she slept, meowing as if she was wondering where that nice redhead she used to visit in her apartment had gone.

Cats were transcendental beings, and you wondered if during her naps, she really did have astral travels where she could meet your girlfriend without worrying about the planes of existence that she could easily visit with zero effort.

You had your legs covered by the same blanket that once also kept your girlfriend warm on these cold days, and how she used to sneak under it to lie on your lap or to tease you by placing her cold hands under your shirt.

"I'm done," Alissa said after a few minutes. "It's mom."

You took the drawing delicately, as if it were a work that required the touch of cautious hands only, almost as if a very abrupt movement would fade the work captured on paper.

You watched carefully.

It was Natasha, but she did not have her reddish hair with blonde ends as your daughter had known her, but was from years ago, and you wondered if the girl had come across more pictures besides the ones hanging on the wall.

"Ah, here she has long curly hair. You portrayed her beautifully, honey," you complimented her, a nostalgic smile plastered on your face. "There was a time when her hair was like that, actually."

"I know," she admitted. "Mom told me she was just working for S.H.I.E.L.D back then and that's how she met Iron Man, pretending to be Natalie Rushman, a new assistant. That was the start of this whole Avengers adventure."

"Oh, yes..." you let out a chuckle. "Who told you that? Aunt Yelena?"

"No, mom told me."

"Ah, mom told you... when?"

"Last night, last night I dreamed about her," Alissa replied, so casually that it seemed to surprise her no longer. At first, she woke up crying, saying she hated the reality, and wished it wasn't a dream. However, over the days she began to relate it as if it were a regular occurrence. "We were in my room, and she saw my drawing wall. She asked me to draw her this way too, because she misses her long hair," she added. "Oh, and she also told me that birthday candles actually grant wishes. Because she once wished she was 36 forever, but she negotiated with you and it ended up being 38."

You tensed your jaw, and you mewed all the way in while making a superhuman effort not to burst into tears right there.

You had these recurring dreams of Natasha, mostly where she would tell you how proud she was of how you kept going for yourself and your daughter every day. In another, which was the day you met Yelena, the same night, you dreamed she asked you about how you liked her. In all the dreams she told you that she loved you and Alissa, and that sooner or later, she would find a way to get back to you.

"I'll find a way back," she said. "In the meantime, remember that love transcends time and space. We love each other, that's all we need to stay together more than ever."

Your daughter had similar dreams, with the difference being that many of them were just about the two of them spending time together like they used to.

You knew that Natasha healed her inner child through activities with Alissa. She might have looked mature and tough on the outside, but on the inside, she loved spending time with her little girl and at the same time giving the little Natasha living inside her all those experiences she was deprived of.

You thought you were going crazy and delusional, and that these dreams were just your subconscious going to great lengths to offer comfort and protect you and Alissa from pain.

But, it was not possible for Alissa to know that, as it happened long before she was adopted. That little anecdote you never mentioned it to a single soul, and neither did Natasha, otherwise it would have been brought up long before. Besides, your daughter wasn't a liar. And there was no way for her to know this.

There was just no way for her to know.

"You know, mom told me that, as long as we love her, she can transcend space and time, and be here, even if it's not on the physical plane like we are," you spoke finally, your voice failing to sound steady. Still, you didn't try harder. Natasha taught you in that support group when you first met her that even the strongest heroes had a right to break.

"Like she does when she visits me," Alissa concluded, smiling excitedly. "I know it's not my head or my imagination. I know it's her."

March 2nd, 2023

"I know it's you, mom!"

"No, who's your mom? I'm Rapunzel," Natasha said, in a high-pitched voice, far from her raspy tone.

She looked adorable in that blonde wig that came down to her heels, the purple dress and the makeup you did before your daughter arrived at the park where she would be having her very first surprise birthday party. Natasha insisted on dressing up instead of hiring an impersonator, because that way it would be more special and a nicer memory that her daughter would look back on in a few years.

"And I am, Flynn Ryder!" Steve came out from behind a tree, with his hair styled like said character, and a costume that also closely resembled, he even had that cross-body bag around his torso.

"That is you, Uncle Steve," she paused. "Oh, but I don't need a princess when my mom is a hero!" The little girl ran from her seat, and hugged Natasha's legs, who with a pout and teary eyes, lifted her off the floor and hugged her tightly.

That scene caused your eyes to glaze over as well, and as you looked around at everyone present, you realized you weren't the only one.

Steve, Clint, Melina, Alexei... everyone was touched. Everyone close to Natasha knew very well what it meant to her to have been given the opportunity to be a mother despite her past and unavailability to get pregnant, and watching the amazing job she was doing would warm up even the coldest heart.

"Hey! What about me?" Steve exclaimed, feigning offense at Alissa's exclusion.

"You too!" The little girl extended her arm in his direction, inviting him to join in the embrace.

Natasha then extended her free arm in your direction, and you didn't know how or at what point, but suddenly everyone present was enveloped in a group hug. Even Alexei ended up joining despite his previous rivalry with Steve. It was something everyone definitely needed.

"Okay, darling, let's pretend you don't know it's us and let us perform the act we prepared," Natasha spoke, and the little girl laughed at the silly impression of Rapunzel and Flynn Ryder your girlfriend and Steve had prepared for this special ocassion.

December 3rd, 2023

"We will be here when you come back, my love," you whispered with your forehead leaning against Natasha's, after pulling stay from a passionate kiss.

"Don't worry yourself. Clint and I will go to another planet, collect one of the Infinity Stones and be back in literally a minute," was the last sentence Natasha directed towards you, very confident that those words would be the truth.

"Damn you, Natalia!" You exclaimed, throwing your phone towards the floor of your room, so hard that you wouldn't be surprised if it broke.

It wasn't the best idea to end this day looking at old pictures; of your first dates with Natasha, of when you moved in together with Liho, and of the day you adopted Alissa, among thousands of other memories frozen through photograph.

You were drowning in your own tears again like every night, after Alissa was already sound asleep in her room to hear you.

It was a routine where you fell asleep after draining it all away, so you would have the strength to face another day without her.

You missed her caresses, her kisses, hearing her laugh, her jokes and her raspy voice in the mornings.

All physical aspects that ultimately were a form in which her eternal essence manifested itself, but you knew now more than ever that you were only used to her physical form, but that her essence would live on until the end of time.

Until she would return to us again.

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow #black widow x reader #marvel #mcu #end game #natasha romanoff x you #scarlett johansson

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froggie-recs-fics · 3 years

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Fic Roundup (up to 9/26/21)

I'm gonna start collecting fics I've read recently to recommend them, because making trope lists takes too long and many fics fall by the wayside. Let me know if you like this new format!

The fandoms in this list are as follows: Marvel (SamBucky, HTP, SpideyPool, WinterHawk, WinterIron, Stony, Stucky, SpiderShield), DCU (Bane/Blake), Inception (Arthur/Eames), Teen Wolf (Sterek).

A * signifies a particular favorite (though I love all these fics)

Marvel

Sam/Bucky

double back by flowermasters (E, 12K, Post-Endgame, Time Loop, Time Travel)

Sam gets stuck in a time loop. In 1943.

Things could be worse, but they could certainly be better.

Companion piece here: quick time

I'll explain everything to the geese by napricot (Post-Endgame, E, 50K, Sam can talk to birds)

Bucky is so competent that it hurts my feelings is not a rational complaint to have about a person, and yet, after a year of being Captain America and partnering up with Bucky for the new and improved, post-Blip Avengers, that’s kinda how Sam’s feeling.

It’s not great. It maybe leads to Sam making some rash, ill-advised decisions like claiming he has a previously undisclosed superpower, and then getting caught in a web of lies when he ends up actually developing that surprisingly inconvenient superpower. Talking to birds had seemed like a harmless superpower, but it turns out that birds have a lot of opinions, and they don’t hesitate to tell Sam about them, especially when it comes to his supposedly subpar courting skills. Which is ridiculous, because Sam isn’t courting Bucky. Right?

Rumlow/Bucky

**blueprints for a better world series by itallstartedwithdefenestration @astralhux (CATWS, Post-CATWS, Noncon, E, 115K, Dark Main Character)

When Pierce discovers the asset is no longer capable of getting himself hard during recreational use, he tells Rumlow to figure out what the problem is, and to fix it. The solution turns out to be more complicated than anyone expected.

I can't recommend this series enough

Peter/Wade

*Dead Men Walking series by doctorestranged @lazystrawberrymilkshakes (E, 235K, Identity Porn, Slow Burn)

When a series of murders take place, Peter Parker goes undercover in Sister Margaret’s to get intel on Tony Stark’s prime suspect: Deadpool. Peter goes in hoping to get enough information so that Spider-Man can save the day, but like everything in Peter’s life, it becomes a bit more complicated than that and it soon becomes apparent that he might not be the best fit for the job.

All About Chemistry by TwiceBakedPotato @sedatedkoala (No Powers AU, M, CNTW, 74K, Teacher-Student Relationship, Slow Build)

After serving his 20 years in the Marine Corps, Wade Wilson is cashing in his GI Bill and going back to college. He feels like the old man on campus, but that doesn't matter. He likes his classes. He likes learning. And he especially likes his Chemistry professor with the messy brown hair.

Clint/Bucky

Making Me A Habit by Kangofu_CB @kangofu-cb (No Powers AU, T, 20K, Pet Store, Slow Burn, Pining, Misunderstandings)

Bucky is a disabled vet struggling with reintegrating into civilian life. He has a routine and a rhythm, and he doesn't like to let anything - big or small - disrupt it. That all changes the day Bucky finds himself inside CATastrophe, the local pet rescue, recovering from a panic attack in the back room of the shop.

He’s used to walking by the place, not visiting, but the next thing Bucky knows, he’s hanging signs and being used as a climbing tree for a bunch of freshly-acquired kittens. And he just...keeps going back. First for the kittens, then for the disaster shop owner who rescues actual kittens from actual trees and teaches archery as a side-gig, and eventually because he’s hopelessly in love.

(Clint was in love before Bucky ever walked in the door.)

*Nameless by AvaKelly (Post-CATWS, M, 101K, Time Travel, Time Loop, Slow Burn)

A gun is pointed at him before he can even move from his position, the Soldier's metal arm steady in its aim. Clint sighs.

"Nemo," Clint says. "It's tattooed on your wrist, right here," he lifts his right hand and taps his left index finger where his palm ends.

The Soldier's eyes widen. "How do you know this?"

"I put it there."

Glitter, G-Strings and Other Mission Hazards by flawedamythyst @flawedamythyst (T, 16K, Undercover, Stripper Clint)

“Which is why you need me to shake my booty for cash,” said Clint.

“Precisely,” said Coulson. “You’re the only agent we have who wouldn’t need additional training in the skills of an exotic dancer to take on the mission, and we want to get someone in there as soon as possible.”

Clint nodded, shutting the file. “Okay, awesome. I’ll dig out my sequined g-string.”

“You’ll have full access to requisition any costumes you might need,” said Coulson.

A mission requires Bucky to be Clint's back-up as he goes undercover as a stripper, which gets more difficult with every new costume he comes out in.

Paternal Error by EVVS @skylarkevanson (Post-CATWS, T, 33K, Kid Fic, Established Relationship)

Bucky has never once thought of being a parent. Not since the Winter Solider happened.

Until he falls in love with Clint Barton. And that idiot just keeps collecting children for his flock.

Now Bucky has to pretend like he's good at parenting.

Bucky/Tony

Forms of Love by bear_bell (Post-CACW, E, 33K, Split Personalities)

Months after the Avengers' dispute in Germany, the team returns to the US and moves back into the tower. As always, everyone pretends that nothing happened. Tony is just fine with this. He's used to pretending, and he'll be damned if he lets any of them see him flinch.

Tony's the bad guy, after all. He's used to it. He's fine with it. He's good at it.

Only now, there's something far worse loitering around the tower - The Winter Soldier. No one notices the guy at first, but when they do, Tony figures that he should have the soldier's back.

Birds of a feather should flock together, and the bad guys should start a book club.

Steve/Tony

While You Were Sleeping by betheflame @betheflame (No Powers AU, M, 65K, While You Were Sleeping AU)

It's been years since Steve Grant Rogers Drysdale has spoken to his twin, Ransom. So it was quite a shock when he was summoned to a hospital and found out that Ransom was in a coma.

Even more shocking? That Ransom is engaged. To Tony Stark.

Steve/Bucky

The Road Goes Ever On And On by PipGraham (Omegaverse AU, M, Noncon, Graphic Violence, 20K, Road Trip, Pre-Serum Steve, Past Domestic Violence)

When Brock's continued domestic abuse puts not only Steve's life in danger, but also that of his unborn pup, he flees into the night with just a small backpack of clothes and almost no money to his name.

Steve quickly runs into trouble as he tries to embark on a 3-day cross-country bus journey back home to New York City.

He meets a kind veteran when he most needs a helping hand.

Just Words by LadyRazzle (crimegimp) @ladyrazzle (Pre-CATFA, Soulmate AU, T, 2K, Fluff)

Inspired by that now legendary post: "soulmate AU where you wake up on your 18th birthday with the first words your soulmate will say to you tattooed on your body so you’ll know them when you meet them." Well what if they appear the moment you turn 18, rather than just the day? And what if by the time you turn 18, you'd already fallen in love?

Bucky wasn’t eager to discover what the words said. He already knew what he wanted them to say. He always had.

Peter/Steve

Forgetting It's There by spinstitcher (stygian) (NR, 8K, Crack, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Identity Porn)

“You’re Captain America,” he blurts out.

“What?” says Captain America, looking a little wide-eyed. He casts a nervous glance at the girl at the counter – he has nothing to worry about there, she’s rocking out to her iPod and could care less what they’re talking about – and says, “No, uh, Steve, it’s just, I’m Steve.”

“Right,” says Peter, and then because his brain-to-mouth filter had apparently been completely destroyed in the fight on Oscorp Tower: “Hey, your butt really is as tight as it looks on TV.”

DCU

Bane/Blake

7 Deadly Ass(as)sins by teacuphuman @teacuphuman09 (AU, E, 23K, BDSM)

Bane and Barsad own a sex shop and John needs a job.

Straws by Menirva (Bane/Blake/Barsad, AU, E, 38K, BDSM)

John works in a smoothie shop.

He has a knack, a second sense if you will, for being able to look at a person and know what they're going to order. It's not the most spectacular gift in the world but he likes being able to figure people out and he's never wrong.

Except for this scruffy asshole who is clearly just ordering the wrong thing to fuck with him.

How is he even finishing an extra-large?

Inception

Aurthur/Eames

Rough Trade by Whisky (whiskyrunner) @whiskyrunner (AU, E, 23K, Internalized Homophobia)

Arthur is an investment banker. He is professional and efficient. He's a halfway decent cook. He's totally independent and has been since the age of eighteen. Maybe he's tired all the time because he works about ninety hours a week which is twice what normal people do, but he's rich and he's competent at his job. He's almost thirty, and already a success.

And there are some things Arthur is not. For instance: Arthur is not gay.

Lucky by earlgreytea68 @earlgreytea68 (M, 37K, Kid fic)

Arthur finds a baby.

Teen Wolf

Stiles/Derek

Cut to the Bone by standinginanicedress (Omegaverse AU, E, 112K, Secret Relationship, Enemies to Lovers kinda)

“Not that it’s any of your god damn business, but my name is Stiles. Do you need something?”

The alpha grins. All teeth, shiny white, straight as an arrow. He’s got this sculpted perfection to him that Stiles is sure has worked on all the omegas he’s ever encountered before, but Stiles stands his ground and narrows his eyes. “A date.”

Stiles looks him up and down, slowly, from the black shoes on his feet, to his uniform khakis and blazer littered with pins, to his face. He frowns, makes a face, and says, “pass.”

Cornerstone by Vendelin (Human AU, E, 83K, Marine Derek, Blind Stiles, Friends to Lovers)

Suffering from PTSD, ex-Marine Derek Hale moves back to Beacon Hills to open a bookshop and find a calmer life. That’s where he meets Stiles, completely by accident. Stiles is talkative, charming and curious. Somehow, despite the fact that he’s blind, he’s able to read Derek like no one else.

Stand Fast in Your Enchantments by DevilDoll, Rahciach (AU, Graphic Violence, E, 76K, Captivity, Feral Derek)

"Stiles knew damn well what a pissed-off wolf sounded like, and every hair on the back of his neck was telling him that somewhere in this room was a very pissed-off werewolf." An AU in which Derek is feral, Stiles is magical, and they eat a lot of fast food.

The Payoff Pitch by Leslie_Knope (Sports AU, E, 83K, Coming Out, Friends to Lovers)

Derek is on the cusp of his second season with the LA Dodgers, and as the reigning runner-up Rookie of the Year, the pressure’s on him to become the team’s star pitcher and lead them to the playoffs for the first time in five years. He’s trying to deal with the burden of expectations and really has zero desire to spend any extra time or energy on anything that isn’t baseball.

But then he meets Stiles.

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johnkrrasinski · 3 years

Text

𝙞𝙣𝙫𝙞𝙨𝙞𝙗𝙡𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜

Chapter 4: hell was the journey but it brought me heaven (final)

full masterlist // series masterlist // commission open // support my work

Pairings: bucky barnes x reader

Word Count: 2,943

Summary: blessed with telepathic abilities since birth, you were captured by HYDRA and turned into one of their weapons to kill. after the blip, you were pardoned by the government and you were obliged to check up with dr. raynor everyday which you had no clue would lead you to the one soul you’d been waiting for.

Warnings: SMUT!! (18+) dirty talk, oral (female receiving), fingering, shower sex, happy ending.

A/N: this series is dedicated to the lovely @ohmickeyhenry who commissioned this story and developed the concept. thank you for trusting me with your story. i sincerely hope you like it.

You sat on the front porch as your fingers flipped through the page of the romance novel you had your nose in. It was a beautiful day, the weather wasn’t too hot or too cold, perfect to spend hours escaping into a story outside. Alpine purred on the chair where Bucky would sit if he was here but he wasn’t because he was on an overseas mission with Sam and though you offered to come with him, Tony said that it would be best if you sat this one out. You didn’t take it personally, however, it was hard to be separated from him for nearly a month.

Bucky said he’d be coming home soon and though the mission kept delaying them to come home, Bucky called and texted you every day to let you know that he was alright and how far on completing the mission had they gone. You were glad that Sam and Bucky had each other while you weren’t around to take care of him because you knew that Sam was the only person who could ground him other than you.

You and Bucky had been together for nearly five months now, after your recovery in Wakanda and adjusting to the new life of being superheroes, you both decided that you wanted to settle in a more remote place. All of the Avengers had their own places outside of the compound so you thought, why don’t you get yours? You talked about getting your own place in Brooklyn but eventually, you came to a decision where somewhere in the country would be better for both of your mental beings, while also still residing in the New York area so that you’d be ready in case there are emergency missions.

Since moving to the countryside, you had felt much more at peace and you had learned more about yourself than before. You were in the middle of the process of moving in when Bucky was needed by Tony to take care of an international matter with Sam, so Tony helped call in some people to help you with your stuff.

The place you had with Bucky was lovely, it wasn’t anything big or swanky, it was simply a rural rustic home that blends woods and stones as the foundation. It had a large loft where you placed your bed, and the roof had upper windows which shed lights into the entire room. It was even more stunning at night where you could see the stars and the moon that illuminated the dark space. From the veranda, you could enjoy the beautiful view of greenery and the lake surrounding you. It was heaven, but most importantly, it was your and Bucky’s little heaven.

You’d often feel lonely living in the cabin, so you decided to adopt a cat while Bucky was away. You didn’t tell him because you wanted it to be a surprise. You named her Alpine. You’d always wanted to have a pet and now that you had your own place, you could have one without worrying it would bother anyone.

You talked to Bucky this morning and he estimated that he’d be coming home in two days, which means he’d be home by his birthday. You couldn’t think of a more perfect gift than this adorable, blue-eyed cat. It was as if she got them from her dad whom she had yet to meet. You also wanted to make his birthday and celebrate his coming home more special so you put down the book and went to the grocery store in town that afternoon to shop for the ingredients to bake a cake.

You had learned a lot of new things after you moved here, and baking was quickly becoming your hobby, so you were excited to utilize that new skill to surprise the love of your life. You spent the next day in the kitchen so once Bucky walked through the front door, the cake would be ready to be served. You were giddy thinking about the look on his face and how proud you would feel to make him happy with something you made of your own.

You were lying on your couch with Alpine by your feet, reading the book that you didn’t get to finish yesterday when you heard your phone notifying you a text had been received.

I’m outside, babydoll.

You instantly got up from your couch and put your book on the table. Your first thought this morning was Bucky would back to your arms this afternoon and you were ecstatic. You had missed him terribly and you wanted to curl up in his embrace and never let him go. He was your anchor and you were his rock, you both needed each other to get through the days. How you managed to survive so long without him was beyond you.

You chose a nice outfit, nothing fancy just a simple sundress that you feel your best in, put on some makeup and did your hair. Though you didn’t have a clue on makeup products, let alone apply them all over your face, you did spend a handful of times watching Youtube for guidance. You knew you didn't have to put all that effort to keep Bucky in love with you but you wanted to do something nice for him. For the first time in forever, you were a free woman who was allowed to make her own choices, you were going to revel in exploring them.

You opened the door and there he was, as handsome as the devil, as gentle as an angel. Everything about him captivated you yet, he soothed every nervous system in your body too. He was grinning at you like he had just won a prize and you couldn’t help but throw yourself at him as soon as the door was fully opened. “Bucky!”

He hugged you back, holding you so tightly to his chest and he kissed you as a lover would until you needed air. “You’re a sight for sore eyes,” he swept the hair that was falling on your face, slightly hiding your beauty.

You smiled at his flattery, “I got a surprise for you…”

“A surprise?” He looked genuinely perplexed. “What’s the occasion?”

“It’s your birthday, silly. And to celebrate you coming home, of course, because I missed you so badly.”

“Sweetheart, you don't need to get me anything, you’re all the blessing I need in my life.”

“And you are mine, but you deserve more. So, close your eyes.” You ordered him like you were an excited 10 years old ready to show off her science project to her parents. He did as he was told and you took his hand and led him to the kitchen where his cake was sitting perfectly. “Don’t open your eyes until I tell you!”

He chuckled, “okay.”

Bucky trusted you wholeheartedly so he didn’t worry he’d walk into a wall or slam his hips to the kitchen counter as he was being led down to where his cake was. “Okay, now open your eyes.” He did so and he saw you standing behind the tiny dining table, near the kitchen chanting Ta-Da! Presenting a chocolate birthday cake, in the shape of a heart in front of you.

You lit up the candles that were in the shape of 106 and you brought the cake closer to him, “happy birthday, my love.”

Bucky was grinning from ear to ear, he couldn’t contain the happiness swelling in his heart. While he was on his bike, driving from the compound to his cabin-like home, all he expected was a warm shower and being tangled between the sheets with you. Since he was turned into The Winter Soldier, he no longer cared about birthdays or his age. Time felt blurry and all that mattered was his purpose in his life which is to make amends to the wrongs he committed during his winter soldier days and the few people that he cared about.

But now you were in his life, you were going to make sure his birthdays are special and that every second you both spent together was precious. “I got another surprise for you…” You walked to the couch to carry Alpine and when Bucky saw her, his eyes lit up.

“You got us a cat?!” You handed her to Bucky gently like a newborn baby and Bucky cradled her to his chest, looking like an affectionate father.

“I did. I felt lonely while you were away so I thought I’d get a pet now that we’ve got our own place and I saw her at the shelter when I went to town and she looked so adorable, I just had to take her home, Buck,” you watched Bucky lovingly stroke the cat’s ear.

“I never had a pet before…”

“I know, and neither had I so I thought, the three of us would make a wonderful family.”

“Thank you, doll. This is… This is the best birthday gift I could ever ask for.”

“You’re welcome, love. By the way, her name’s Alpine.”

Bucky nodded, “suits her.”

“Now, as delicious as that cake looks, I really need to take a shower, would you mind joining me?” Bucky held out his hand for you.

“There’s nothing else I’d rather do,” Bucky took your hand and carried you in bridal style to your bathroom, which had rustic walls like the rest of the house and dark brown sink vanity with a mirror at the centre above.

Bucky put you down and you both began stripping out of your clothes. You helped Bucky with his once yours were on the hanger because you wanted to feel him, really feel him now. Once only his boxer remained, you slid the shower glass door and you pulled him, giggling like teenagers trying to sneak out in the middle of the night as he struggled to take off his boxer with the way you were pulling him.

You turned on the shower, just warm enough to soothe your nerves and help Bucky relax. Bucky cupped your face and you both began making out, the stream of water made it difficult to keep your eyes open but you always got so lost in his kisses that you could never keep your eyes open even if you wanted to. It felt like heaven to feel those lips again after a month of his absence.

Bucky lifted you and you wrapped your legs around his waist. He slammed you to the bathroom glass as he dominated your mouth, his tongue tangled with yours as his vibranium arm leaned against the glass. Bucky trailed kissed to the column of your neck and you threw your head back, giving him easier access. He bit the skin, marking you as his.

The water kept flowing down and you both forgot what you were there for in the first place. “Oh, missed you so fucking much, doll.”

“I missed you too,” you said as you panted.

“Those nude pictures you sent weren’t helping either. Each time I see you naked, it went straight to my cock. It was torture not to have you right away.” Bucky put you down and kissed your body, down to your stomach until he reached the part where you needed him most. Bucky lifted your right leg onto his shoulder and kissed the inside of your thigh as he left a love bite with his teeth there too.

You didn’t mind, you were his as much as he was yours and you loved it when he got a little rough or possessive, though you knew Bucky would never hurt you and if he did, you wouldn’t hesitate in telling him. But you loved to walk around with his marks on you, you wore them proudly.

Bucky dipped his head to your core, tasting your arousal like a famished man. He had been deprived of your taste for a month, he wasn’t going to hold back. He could spend hours in between your legs if you let him and he’d never get tired of it. Bucky licked a stripe of your slit, making you throw your head back again and moan.

He grabbed your arse to keep you standing, with the way he was devouring you, your thighs began to shake, and you would’ve crumbled to the floor if he wasn’t holding you. You tugged his hair, keeping his face close to your cunt. You couldn’t help but grind yourself onto his face and you could feel him smirking.

The way his stubble grazed your delicate skin was tantalizing, you’d tried to close your legs a few times around his head but he always held them back. You could feel your muscles tightening, but before you could burst, Bucky put your leg to the floor and he stood up, kissing you again and you could taste your arousal all over his tongue. It was erotic yet intimate at the same time.

Bucky grabbed your hips and spun you around, you could feel his stiff member nudging you from behind as you both fought for dominance with your tongues. Bucky took a fistful of your hair and lifted your head back, once again trailing open-mouthed kisses to your throat. His fingers made their way down to your clit, rubbing it in circles furiously as if you weren’t soaked enough already from the way his tongue ingurgitated you.

You whimpered at his touch, the way he always knew how to light up every cell in your body with his touch was a wonder. It was as if your body had given itself completely to him and it was going to comply with whatever his touch tells you to do. Like the way you willingly bared your soul to him, you didn’t fight it at all, let the love and passion you had for each other consume you.

“You’re dripping all over my hand, doll.”

“I need you to fuck me now, please.” You were losing your mind with the way he was stimulating you, you needed to have him inside you now.

“Anything for you, baby.”

Bucky used your wetness to lubricate his member, making it easier for him to slide in. You leaned against the glass with your hands against it as he gripped your hip with his flesh hand and your shoulder with his vibranium one. Bucky pushed himself until he was fully sheathed and he groaned, “oh fuck, I ain’t gonna last long. Missed this tight cunt so much.”

Bucky gave you a few seconds to adjust to his size, and once you told him to move, he began with slow paces. You threw your head back and leaned against his shoulder as he kept thrusting in and out of you at a faster speed. Bucky moved his vibranium arm to your hip and wrapped his flesh hand around your jaw, directing it to his face so he could kiss you deeply.

The sounds of your skin slapping were salacious. Bucky felt you clenched around him and the coil in your stomach tightened. His fingers that were gripping your waist once again furiously rubbed your clit, igniting the fire in your muscles. Your cries grew louder as his rhythm began to falter, and the dam in you broke, your squirts streamed down your thighs, clouding your brain with pleasure.

Bucky started to get messy as he chased his own orgasm. He followed you to the place of euphoria, releasing himself deep inside you, panting your walls with hot white gush. Bucky leaned his forehead against the glass as he breathed heavily with his heart thumping against his chest. His weight on your back was comforting so you stayed there for a while until you both began to come down from your highs.

Bucky pulled out of you and his orgasm ran down your thighs, following yours. You turned around to face him and kiss him again. “That was fucking amazing,” Bucky said as he cleaned you up.

“I should be the one doing that, I wasn’t the one who just came home from a one month mission,” you retorted as you watched him going down to scrub your thighs where your juices were sticking on your skin.

“Well, now that I’m here, let me take care of my girl, will ya?”

You only chuckled and eventually, you both helped rinsed each other off. Once the shower was done, Bucky dried you with a towel and carried you to your bed, which he had yet to sleep on since it got here.

Life was a funny thing. Sometimes it dragged you down to hell, making you question if you had ever committed such a heinous crime in your previous life that cost you such misery in your present. But then, slowly but surely, the journey that you had to endure, led you to your fate, for better or for worse.

You couldn’t change where you had been and what you had done, but you could choose how you were going to redeem yourself and how you were going to spend the remaining years of your life now. You didn’t know much about your future as an Avenger. Hell, you were barely an Avenger, to begin with, but eventually, when you were ready, you knew there’d be nothing too big to overcome because you had Bucky by your side to walk through the storm with.

You didn’t have the privilege to believe in mystical things such as lucky stars but you were going to thank whatever was out there for the invisible string that tied you to Bucky.

tags; @ohmickeyhenry @suitofvibraniumarmor @themaddies-obx @themaddies-obx @beminetokeep @bluemoon-icecream @bluemoon-icecream-blog @harprs @thefridgeismybestie @abitofeverythingg @wolfonthemoonwatchestvshows @julimelodi @bookscoffeandotherstuff @tanyaherondale @artisancowbells @ferxaniti @intothesoul @hallecarey1 @buckybarnesplumwhore @thefallenbibliophilequote @andiyholly @emizla @capxwinter @jevans2 @alwaysreadingimagineschick @swtltlmrvlgrl @extremelyblackandwhite

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gloriafc · 3 years

Text

Welcome Home

Y/N Barnes is the name you went by. You wore the name proudly, especially the day you married Bucky. He was your soulmate and you couldn't imagine living without him until the day Steve told you he disappeared with the many others in the blip. Steve stayed by your side, the two of you only having each other as you grieved your husband. A month after the blip you found out you were pregnant. "How am I supposed to do this Steve? How am I going to raise his baby without him here?" "I'll be here. It's not the same thing. But I'll try my best."

Eight and a half months later you had given birth to a beautiful babygirl. Rosalina Marie Barnes. Steve stared at the newborn in his arms, "She has his eyes." "I know. I stared at them for an hour wanting to cry." "Why Rosalina?" "Bucky always brought home roses. Didn't matter the occasion. Sometimes just because he hadn't brought me flowers in a while, but they were always roses. Even if it was just a single rose that he picked off a random bush. I had to work that in someway in his honor."

Pepper and Tony helped you as much as you'd let them, Morgan being born around the same time as Rosalina. The two girls became best friends, as they slowly got bigger. Soon they were able to walk and run causing chaos wherever they went.

As five years passed you learned how to live without Bucky. You always told Rosalina about her dad, to keep his memory, and to answer any question she may have had about him. She understood why she didn't have her dad, and as much as it hurt her to know she may never meet him she still loved him with her entire heart.

When Steve told you the Avengers were trying to reverse the blip you didn't know what to feel, thankful Morgan and Rosie were off playing unable to hear the conversation. "This is a good thing y/n." "I know." "You don't sound like its good." "Steve. I spent the last five years without my husband, grieving him. I spent the last five years as a single mother. Spending everyday looking into his blue eyes without him there next to me raising that beautiful girl. And you're telling me you think you guys found a way to bring him and the rest of the world back? Steve what happens when he comes back and he decides a kid is too much for him, or he thinks that I'm not the same person I was when the blip happened? Because I'm not. I spent five years trying to get over him just to fail everyday. I climb into bed everyday just wanting to be held in his arms and to get a whiff of his cologne but cant." You stop yourself unable to finish your train of thought, "Steve. As much as I missed him and as much as I wished he was there for Rosie growing up this is a big change."

When you go home and tell Rosie that Uncle Steve was trying to bring her daddy home she climbed into your bed with your giant photo album asking you to tell the stories of all the pictures in the book. "What's this one mommy?" "That's the day mommy married daddy." "You look like a princess." "I felt like one. Your daddy always made me feel like one." "Do you still love daddy?" "I'll always love him baby. Just like I'll always love you." "Do you think he'll love me?" "I think so. How could he not?" "He's never met me." "Doesn't mean he can't love you. I'm sure your Uncle Steve will tell him all about you."

And he did, as they were being transported back Bucky asked about you. "What happened to Y/N?" "She survived the blip Buck." Bucky could see the look on Steve's face, "What happened?" "Nothing bad. Depending on how you take it. Uh. Y/N found out she was pregnant a month after the blip happened." Bucky stayed silent as the information processed in his head making Steve continue with a proud smile on his face, "You have a daughter Buck. Shes every bit as crazy as Y/N, but shes stubborn like you. Besides your eyes shes her mini me." Steve pulls out his phone and shows him a picture of the three of you on Rosie's last birthday, "She named her Rosalina. Rosie for short. Rosalina Marie Barnes." "She kept my name?" "She couldn't bring herself to go by anything else. She loves you Buck even while you were gone. There hasn't been a day she didn't miss you, even Rosie knows who you are."

When they land Steve calls you to tell you that Tony died. "How's Pepper doing?" "You know Pepper." "Working through everything. How is he?" "Why don't you ask him yourself?" Steve hands the phone to Bucky, the sound of his voice immediately making you cry, "Hey doll." "Buck." The sound of your sniffles makes him want to tear up, "You dont know how much I missed you." "I can imagine it doll. Steve told me we have a daughter." "She's beautiful Buck. Wait until you see her."

The day of Tony's funeral you're helping Rosie get ready trying to avoid being late, but it seems she has other plans. Bucky waits nervously, for him it's only been a week since the last time he saw you, but he knows that it's been five years and you'll be with your daughter. Steve nudges him when your car pulls in and the pair watch as you climb out and go around before you're helping Rosie out as she carrys a gift bag. Pepper followed by Happy and Morgan reach you first, you quickly pull Pepper in with a sad smile "Sorry we're late Rosie had other plans." You watch as Rosie hands Morgan the bag, before she grins as she pulls out a rabbit stuffed animal dressed like iron man, "Squeeze it Morgan." You watch as her and Pepper get teary eyed when the rabbit speaks in Tony's voice, from a recording from one of Tony's voice files, "I love you 3000." Pepper looks at you, "How did you get that?" "I have my ways, theres one more thing." You reach into the bag and pull out a small stuffed cheeseburger that attaches to the bunnies hand, Pepper looks at you, "That's perfect. Thank you." Morgan hugs your legs as she looks at you unable to say anything. Happy looks at you with a sad smile, "I think theres someone waiting to see you. I can watch Rosie." "Thank you Happy."

You make your way towards Bucky and Steve, stopping in front of them as your eyes take Bucky in before you start tearing up. "Doll. You look beautiful." You can't even say anything before he takes you into his arms and you hold onto him tightly, afraid to lose him again. You both sway as you quietly cry doing the one thing you wanted to do for five years.

The three of you move to sit on the steps of the back porch, watching as Happy keeps the two girls entertained. "What's she like?" Steve chuckles as you say, "Sometimes she's a giant pain in my ass." "She's only saying that because she has her mother's attitude." You smile and shake your head, "Theres too much personality in one little body. You're going to have to find out for yourself. But she definitely takes after her dad." Bucky looks at you and Steve confused, "I've lost count of how many times I was asked to pick her up early from school because she got in a fight. A fight in preschool." You nudge Bucky, "Guess what she did?" He just shakes his head as Steve continues, "Every time I asked her she said the bigger kids were picking on the small kid so she fought the bullys." You chuckle, "Sound familiar?"

Ten minutes later she runs up to you, cuddling into your side as she peeks at the man shes called her dad in photos. "Mommy." Bucky can feel his heart thump as the word leaves her mouth, he's always wanted to experience having a child with you he just never imagined you'd do it without him. "Come here." You pull her onto your lap facing Bucky and Steve as she tries to hide in your hair. Not even a second later she's pulling something out of her jacket pocket. "These are yours." She hands Bucky his dog tags, you've told her they were something he never took off, but they fell during the blip and Steve brought them to you. She loved to play dress up with them, always being careful and returning them to their spot when she was done. Bucky looks at the spot where her hand touched his before slowly handing them back to her, "I believe you've kept them safe for this long." She smiles as she holds them to her chest and you kiss the top of her head.

When it is time to go Rosie grabs your hand before stopping and looking at Bucky and reaching for his hand, "Come on Daddy." You couldn't hide your smile, hearing her call him that and him actually being there and not just a picture. Steve nudges his best friend, "Go with your girls." Bucky smiles, "My girls. I like the sound of that." He grabs onto Rosie's hand with his giant hand compared to hers, the three of you walking back to your car. He watches as you help her into her seat before shutting her door, "I'll drive. We had to find a bigger home once she started walking. It's not too far from here."

As you drive Bucky finds himself smiling as you hum along to the music, something you've always done, what makes him stop and look in the backseat is the voice of his daughter singing along to the music as she kicks her feet and stares out the window at the passing trees. He can't hide his smile when he sees your smirk, "Like mother like daughter huh?"

When you park in the driveway Bucky stares at the house as Rosie runs inside, "Tony built it. This is his land, well Peppers now. I couldn't stay in that small apartment anymore. I needed a fresh start but couldn't bring myself to leave completely. After Morgan was born Pepper took over everything Tony did and gave me her old job as assistant. It let's me afford more than we needed without making me work all the time." Bucky still looks at the place you call home, you grab his metal hand, the cold metal having a familiar homey feeling to you, "Come on. There's so much she's dreamed about showing you." As soon as you step foot into the house and lock the door you smile hearing Rosie rummage around in her room, "You got this Buck. Trust me." You lead him to where her room is. When she grabs his hand to pull him further into the room and makes his seemingly giant frame sit on her little bed, handing him her favorite stuffed animals and telling him about each one you cant help but start to tear up, the life you always imagined for her happening right before your eyes.

Your phone buzzes and pulls you out of thought as you read the message from Pepper smiling at the picture attached. She managed to capture a picture of the three of you as you were leaving, Rosie in the middle as you held hands. Your backs were to the camera but its quickly become one of your favorite pictures. You quietly leave the room knowing Rosie is easy to entertain and good at playing host. You quickly open up your computer and after a few short minutes the picture Pepper sent you is printed out and you're sticking it in your photo album. As you close the book you stop remembering the bins you've kept in the garage all these years. You find the one you'd continuously dig through when you were pregnant and couldn't fit any of your clothes, and carry it inside. You stop when you see Rosie and Bucky standing in the hall, "There you are Mommy. I want to show daddy the pictures." You smile and nod, "How about we let daddy get into some more comfortable clothes while I make dinner?" She quickly let's go of his hand, "Can I help?" "Always Love."

Rosie becomes preoccupied with going through the pantry trying to find what she wants for dinner as you lead Bucky to what would now be your shared room. "You'll find everything easy. These are all your clothes. The rest of your stuff is in the garage, but that can wait until tomorrow." Bucky takes the box from you his hand finding the side of your face and you cant help but lean into his touch your eyes quickly finding his. "You kept everything?" With a nod you answer, "I couldn't bring myself to throw anything away. Or donate it. The thought of someone else wearing your clothes, making the smell of you go away was too much for me. And it helped that when I was pregnant and to big to fit in my own clothes that I had backups." For the first time in five years Buckys lips meet yours as you both get lost in the moment. It isn't until you hear a tiny "Eww" that makes you break apart. You both chuckle at the disgusted look on your daughters face as she stands in the doorway holding onto a box of macaroni and cheese, Bucky can't help himself, "What? You don't like this?" He gently turns your face so he can kiss you again, making you laugh into the kiss when Rosie pretends to gag. He let's you go and is quick to grab Rosie making her drop the box and let out happy giggles as he spins around. You immediately know what hes going to do as he stops in front of you, "How about this?" Before she can question anything you both press multiple kisses to her cheeks making her giggle even harder as she tries to push you both away, "That tickles!"

Just hearing the sounds of his daughter's giggles makes him immediately become protective. Even though he just met her he already knows how much he loves her and how he'd do anything to keep a smile on her face. The fact that you gave him a child makes him fall even more in love with you. When you both head to the kitchen to make dinner he can't shower fast enough, not wanting to miss a single moment with you both. As he walks down the hall he finally takes notice of the different pictures that line the walls. There's some of the two of you, some with Steve, with Tony, Pepper, and Morgan. He can see that you continued to live your life but stops at the ones with him in them. He sees your wedding picture and cant stop himself from touching the frame, next to it a picture of you pregnant, then one of you holding Rosie as a newborn. He gets taken out of thought when he can hear two giggles coming from the kitchen, he smiles thinking how much his daughter is exactly like her mother, and wouldn't change a thing.

Bucky slowly eases into your nighttime routine, and being around Rosie. Anytime he needs reassurance about what to do he'd look at you and you'd simply nod or shake your head. He watched as you tucked Rosie in for bed, her refusing to be tucked in unless he helped making you laugh. After you turned off her light he followed you to your room climbing into bed alongside you. "This side feels unslept in." "It should. I can't sleep on that side, when Rosie would climb into bed with me she always managed to sleep on top of me."

As soon as you feel yourself start to fall asleep you feel an all too familiar weight on top of you, "Rosie what are you doing out of bed?" Bucky reaches over to turn on the light in his half-asleep state shocked to find Rosie on top of you and under the blanket, "There's a monster under my bed." "And there's a gremlin under my blanket." Bucky can't fight the smile on his lips as he watches the mother-daughter duo. "Mommy, I need daddy to fight the monster." "Liar." "You don't know that." "Mmm i think I know my own child Rosie. You just want to sleep in here." She looks between you and Bucky with a smile he knows he'll end up giving into everytime, "Can I?" You look at Bucky, "It's up to you Sergant." He can only shrug, "She's already under the blanket." Rosie grins before snuggling in-between you both.

After Rosie's fast asleep Bucky feels her weight shift until he feels her weight on top of him, not even a second later he hears you quietly say, "I told you. Welcome home Buck."

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine

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puppypeter · 3 years

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These are all dark fics, READ THE TAGS before reading the fics. It is your responsibility to check whether what you are about to read is something that you can stomach. While most of these fics are based around trauma, recovery etc many feature triggering scenes or flashbacks as well as darker themes. Please be safe and don’t read them if they can be triggering for you! Proceed with caution! Most of them are Hydra Trash, but still not just the ugly bits as I like there to be a plot. Hiding them below the cut:

between scylla and charybdis | 21590 words

Sam Wilson has been witness to a lot of things he wishes he could unsee. Civilian families shot dead in their cars because of miscommunications at checkpoints. Riley’s body spiralling to the ground in a smoke-plumed plummet. His own face in his bathroom mirror after waking up hung-over as hell at two in the afternoon, the day after the anniversary of Riley’s death, year after year after year.

And now, in an abandoned bunker on the outskirts of Boston, a seemingly unremarkable manila folder at the bottom of a filing cabinet.

Berceuse | 10730 words

There are strange, new things Bucky needs from Steve.

Dreamers Often Lie | 11040 words

As far as Bucky remembers, sex is something that is painful and terrifying if you wake up while it's happening. As the Asset, sleeping through sex was a rare treat. When Steve lets Bucky know he's interested in a sexual relationship, what Steve doesn't know is that they have fundamentally different ideas of what that entails.

despite the threatening sky and the shuddering earth (they remained) | 71532 words

“They really didn’t want the mask to come off.” Hill thumbed through the scans, and pulled out a film that she then handed over to Sam, face mostly expressionless but for the flat line of her pursed lips.

Sam accepted the film and held it up to the light, angling so both he and Steve could see it, squinting at the outline of the Winter Soldier’s skull, and the blips of unnatural white that showed up, God, in his brain, not to mention about half his teeth, plus the mask, with its thin protrusions—

“Those are pins,” Steve realized. He looked over at Hill. “The mask—it’s nailed to his face.”

Hill’s face was as unmoved as ever. “Like I said. They really didn’t want it coming off.”

Fire And Water For Your Love | 77084 words

When the Avengers investigate an abandoned HYDRA base on behalf of S.H.I.E.L.D., they unexpectedly encounter a dark-haired man with a torn metal arm, who leads them to an even more shocking discovery deeper inside the base. The Avengers must reconcile what they have found with the lies S.H.I.E.L.D. has been telling for decades.

Give An Inch | 5070 words

The Captain has a warm smile and clear, open eyes. The Soldier knows these are tricks. He's fallen for them before and he won't do it again.

Humans As Gods | 4818 words

"HYDRA's scientists had been delighted to find their serum-reversal procedure had worked. Their jubilation was dampened by the discovery that Steve's smaller self might no longer be Captain America-sized but was still 100% Steve Rogers, and Steve Rogers was now mad enough to spit nails. A minor oversight in the design of the containment area meant that smaller-Steve had simply wriggled out of the now ridiculously-oversized restraints like an angry ferret escaping a paper bag, and punched the nearest technician in the nuts.

Chaos ensued."

HYDRA scientists successfully de-serum Captain America, only to discover that they are utterly unprepared for Steve Rogers. Meanwhile, the Winter Soldier follows his instructions to the letter. This works out just great.

The Only One That Needs To Know | 6571 words

Bucky can't control his body. He can only control what secrets he keeps.

I Was Wearing My Blue Coat | 11503 words

Following exposure of his past as the Winter Soldier, anonymous postings of explicit video footage, 63 charges of murder and the wrath of the Internet, James Buchanan "Bucky" Barnes finally steps into the limelight and tells his story to Zenat Patel of the New York Times.

Compliance Will Be Rewarded | 4767 words

Someone told him once: "Compliance will be rewarded," and he remembers pressing his head against a man’s leg in open supplication. He remembers hands in his hair, and a gentle grip on the back of his neck. He remembers a man telling him "so good, so good for me aren't you?" And he remembers nodding his head in a desperate attempt to be exactly as good as he was supposed to be.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Bucky Barnes is physically free from Hydra, but the hold on his mind lingers still. All he wants is to go home, and he'll do anything he can to get there.

To Burn Your Kingdom Down | 12370 words

The Avengers go after a Hydra splinter cell with a nasty habit of brutalizing their prisoners. Steve has some ugly history with them, and when a rescue mission gone wrong leaves him and Sam in enemy hands, the situation gets uglier still.

Worth The Wound | 7709 words

The asset knows that maintenance is better than punishment. But with Steve, maintenance becomes more pleasant, soft and gentle and everything he could dream of. It was only natural that he decided to prolong that maintenance a little longer.

The Spaces In-Between | 6971 words | Part 1 of What We Tried So Hard To Hide Away

"Memories are like buckets of water: they weigh on the heart and the brain until the body fails. You're blessed to stay forgetful and young, Soldier."

Sometimes blessings feel like curses.

Illuminate The Scene | 7086 words | Part 2 of What We Tried So Hard To Hide Away

The doctors had wanted to keep the Soldier. Shock him and freeze him until he was fixed, or tear him to scrap if he couldn’t be repaired so that he wouldn’t be an entirely wasted investment. Steve is the only thing stopping them.

When the Soldier can't trust his own body, how can he trust anything?

All These Riots Of Broken Sound | 83790 words | Part 1 of Forever Is A Close And Honest Friend

When Steve and the team return to Avengers tower to find Bucky gone, they must venture into B.A.R.F. to figure out what triggered him to leave and hunt those who wronged him. Trapped in a simulation of Bucky's worst memories with rogue HYDRA agents waiting to strike, 100 years of secrets, lies, pain and love drive the team to their limit and push Steve towards a realisation that is a century in the making.

I Was Lost But Left A Trace | 3585 words | Part 2 of Forever Is A Close And Honest Friend

Disorientated, the Asset reached up to wipe at the moisture on its cheeks and was shocked to find it clear, instead of the crimson it has been expecting. It didn’t understand why this misidentification had caused uproarious laughter from the technicians.

“It is not blood,” the Asset told him, “but it is still a malfunction.”

This sobered the technician a little, and he nodded tightly.

“Yes. It is. But we will fix you.”

I’ll Always Be Blamed For The Sun Going Down | 9907 words | Part 3 of Forever Is A Close And Honest Friend

He knows he’s in the right place. He has heard the guys at the docks laugh and joke about the queers who come out after dark, looking to earn a little extra cash. He has seen the johns, when he’s been out late enough, skulking in the shadows like predators hunting for their next meal, looking for something in particular. Sometimes they look at him.

A small, rusty pen knife that his father had picked up in Europe during the Great War sits heavy in the breast pocket of his jacket. Just in case.

Book Of The Moon | 16019 words | Part 4 of Forever Is A Close And Honest Friend

In 1929, Bucky Barnes falls in love for the first time and resigns himself to never telling a soul, let alone Steve, the object of his affections. In 1943, half a world away from the man he can never have and fighting for his life and his sanity, something new begins to bloom.

Habeas Corpus | 18054 words

An unexpected incident in the field leaves Steve Rogers facing the infiltration of a Hydra base and retrieval of important intelligence, all while pretending to be the Winter Soldier. Unfortunately, there are important aspects of the Soldier's past that Bucky hasn't disclosed, and Steve has no idea what he's really walking into.

Bullies | 14979 words

Written for the MCU trash meme prompt:

I wanna see Steve being messed with by his secretly-HYDRA coworker buddies. I want them generally fucking with him, "accidentally" doing terrible things to him or getting Steve into awful situations, telling jokes that aren't really jokes, gaslighting, performing sexual-assault hazing under the guise that "that's what people do now," pressuring him into other sex shit, anything, just fuck Steve up.

Steve isn't failing to fully catch on because he's dumb or oblivious: it's just that he is Steve, so he wants to believe the best of everybody, and he doesn't want to believe that he could be working for/with bullies and that (as Natasha says) he essentially died for nothing.

Not Unwanted, Not Unloved | 50320 words

They'd resigned themselves to never becoming parents - until Bucky gets pregnant and drops off the grid without even a whisper to his mate about his condition. Steve will still raze the earth to find him, but that doesn't mean he likes what he finds.

The Tones That Tremble Down Your Spine | 13889 words

Tony tells him they’re planning a party for Steve’s birthday. He knows how parties are supposed to go.

Lacuna | 62875 words

The Winter Soldier doesn't remember Steve Rogers, but he needs Rogers' help.

OR: The one where Bucky doesn't remember Steve, but falls in love with him anyway.

Not A Perfect Soldier | 93354 words

In a world where HYDRA was wiped out in the '40s, Steve is found by the Army rather than SHIELD. General Thaddeus Ross wants a perfectly obedient super-soldier at his command, and to that end, he sets out to break Steve to his will. As Steve struggles to come to terms with all he has lost, his life in captivity is only made bearable by the presence of another prisoner-- another super-soldier known only as "Soldat". Then the Avengers strike a deal with Ross to "borrow" him for missions, and Steve is faced with a team who dislikes him, an organization he doesn't trust, and the question of what he's willing to do to escape Ross's clutches.

For Want Of Him | 103174 words

It's the twenty-first century, and Steve Rogers has never been more alone. Everything he knew, everyone he loved, is now gone, and a dark, bitter loneliness claws at him, raking bleeding gashes into his heart. And then there's Brock Rumlow. Rumlow is like salt in his wounds; vicious, and cruel. But his dark brown hair and teasing smirk reminds Steve of someone long dead, and his New York accent sounds like home...He's a soldier like him...he understands. And Steve makes the fatal mistake of trusting him.

The Same Measure | 4943 words

The Winter Soldier was never allowed to stop unless an injury was too grievous.

To Be Unmade | 5114 words | Part 1 of Alexander Pierce Should Have Died Slower

For the asset, things only ever get worse. The external scars fade quickly enough. The internal ones dig deeper and deeper.

But the internal scars are called love, and doesn't that make them worth the hurt?

Do Not Put In The Icebox | 7143 words | Part 2 of Alexander Pierce Should Have Died Slower

When the asset malfunctions on a mission, Rumlow and Rollins learn more than they ever wanted to know about Pierce's hobbies.

And then everyone has pancakes.

The Knowing Makes It Worse | 4130 words | Part 3 of Alexander Pierce Should Have Died Slower

No is a bad word and invites punishment.

Or, Alexander Pierce is a very bad man who delights in manipulating and degrading the asset.

Love Is For Children | 5303 words | Part 4 of Alexander Pierce Should Have Died Slower

Bucky understands how the game works. He can't understand why it makes Steve cry.

But Natasha and the other Avengers are there to help.

I Just Wanted To Be Sure Of You | 4461 words | Part 5 of Alexander Pierce Should Have Died Slower

Bucky has Bucky Bear; it's only fair for Natasha to have something of her own.

Visiting a toy store wasn't strictly necessary, but if Tony wants to throw money around, no one's going to complain.

“Till The End Of The Line | 6069 words | Part 6 of Alexander Pierce Should Have Died Slower

It's hard to take a friendship right back up when so much has changed over seventy years.

Particularly when HYDRA's conditioning resurfaces.

*if you feel that any of these fics shouldn’t be in this list please just send me a message! :) I have read them all but over the past 1+ years so some of them I might not remember all the details of :)

#HTP #hydra trash party #dark fics #recovery fics #but with A LOT of trigger warnings #puppy peter fic recs #don't like don't read #hydra angst #bucky angst #bucky whump #MIND THE TAGS!!!

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metalbvcky · 4 years

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*Shows up late to the Stucky/Marvel fandom Post-EG with Starbucks and dozens of fics that I’ve read in hand* So you guys like fanfiction?

Yeah so, because of quarantine I’ve been consuming a ton of fic. I’ve probably read over 1.5 million words in just a couple months. So why not share what I’ve been reading! Note that some of these are older (popular) fics so veteran Stucky peeps will probably know of them since I not too recently delved into the realm that is Stucky fanfic. :)

Down below are over a dozen fics with different tropes, Canon/AU’s, and what not. Please do heed the tags on some of these. For the curious: My AO3 bookmarks.

Also shoutout to @stuckylibrary, the mods over there are doing the lords work.

Key: ♥ = My fave, S = Smut, DS = Dom/Sub

Heroes are Easy, People are Hard ♥ by Halbereth, Lorien - Words: 152,284 | CW Fix It, Slight Canon Divergence, Recovery, Slow Burn

Shuri and Wanda cleared Bucky's triggers shortly after Killmonger's attempted coup, and he and Steve went on the run. But it turns out there's more to "fixing Bucky's head" than "getting Hydra out of it." When a group of rogue scientists manage to neutralize the serum and make Steve very sick--pre-serum "this is bad" kind of sick--and they're cut off from contact with Wakanda, Bucky knows only one person with resources to help. He calls Tony and surrenders on the condition that Tony tries to help Steve.

From there, it's basically three variously messed-up guys’ trajectories from "This Is Fine", "Reasonably Speaking I Know It’s Fine", "I Will Be Fine With It" to actually being fine, guest-starring a far-better-adjusted teenage boy who climbs walls, a 1957 Ford Thunderbird, two women with a keen sense of the absurd, and Bruce, the Zen master of “it’s fine that it’s not fine.” Add in the fact that Bucky's been secretly in love with Steve since the thirties and things only get harder. Learning to be a person is the hardest thing Bucky Barnes will ever have to do--but he's got company along the way.

Reap The Whirlwind by Cristinuke - Words: 18,221 | Canon Universe, Post CW, Domestic

Bucky finds a cat. Or rather, a cat finds him.

Your Favorite Ghost by augustbird - Words: 21,013 | Canon Divergence, Post TWS

It's harder than Steve ever expected to bring Bucky home.

Despite the threatening sky and shuddering earth (they remained) ♥ by praximeter (Zimario) - Words: 71,532 | Canon Divergence TWS, Body Modifications

“Those are pins,” Steve realized. He looked over at Hill. “The mask—it’s nailed to his face.”

Hill’s face was as unmoved as ever. “Like I said. They really didn’t want it coming off.”

This city bleeds its aching heart ♥ by Renne - Words: 34,537 | Canon Universe, Fake/Pretend Relationship

The one where Steve and Bucky pose as a happily married couple while on a mission for SHIELD, to catch an international arms dealer hiding in a suburban neighbourhood.

The Best Way to Wake ♥ by LeeHan - Words: 42,293 | Post TFA, Canon Divergence TWS, Recovery

James Buchanan Barnes lay in a glass pod in the middle of the table, frozen since he fell. Steve’s hands were on the glass before he realized he’d moved. “Wait, Captain!” “Get him out,” Steve whispered, his hands searching for a clasp, a keypad, something. “Captain, we need to keep him in stasis—“ “I said get him out!”

Infinite Coffee and Protection Detail ♥ series by owlet - Words: 264,438 | Canon Divergence (sort of)

The mission resets abruptly, from objective: kill to objective: protect

Undersell, overcommit by silentwalrus - Words: 10,222 | Canon Universe

Steve goes so hard for Bucky that he becomes a licensed, practicing massage therapist.

Sparked Up Like a Book of Matches by Sena - Words: 26,734 | Post-TWS, Canon Universe

Steve lives in Stark Tower and doesn't have much to do when he's not going after Hydra strongholds. He attends charity events to make Pepper happy. He goes hiking with Sam. He hangs out with Clint in Bed-Stuy and watches Dog Cops. Sometimes Tony gives him super alcohol in a sippy cup. Sometimes he sees Bucky out of the corner of his eye and wonders if it's real or if he's starting to lose his mind.

Alternately, the one with terrible jokes, a foot chase through the Lower East Side, and a tiny little robot named Shitcan.

Sugar Sweet ♥ from the Red Velvet series by ColorCoated - Words: 173,400 | Modern/Sugar Daddy AU, Age Difference, Slow Burn

"What's your name?" It wasn't even a line. He was just pretty and Bucky wanted a name to go with that face. With that strong jawline. With those deep blue eyes. A little smirk, "Steve."

Awww, Steve. He looked like a Steve. Bucky pursed his lips in a way he hoped was attractive, "You should buy me a drink."

College Student Bucky finds himself immediately attracted to Steve. He knows that Steve's a bit older than him, and that Steve himself is put off by the age difference. . . But that doesn't stop Bucky from wanting to climb him like a tree.

Steve and Bucky Go Away for the Weekend (and cook a lot) ♥ by E_Greer - Words: 30,126 | Canon Universe, Domestic

In which Steve coaxes Bucky out of the Tower for a birthday weekend away and sweet, fluffy domesticity ensues. Phlintasha helps keep Bucky calm, Steve has Opinions about how you set the table, stories are told, greenhouses are toured, baths are had, books are read, tears are shed, stars are gazed upon, and everyone makes Bucky feel loved. Includes Friday night dinner, Saturday morning breakfast, Saturday lunch, Saturday dinner, and Sunday brunch.

Dona Nobis Pacem by thegraytigress - Words: 65,214 | Canon Universe, Recovery

"This job... We try to save as many people as we can. Sometimes it doesn't mean everybody, but if we can't find a way to live with that... Next time maybe nobody gets saved."

An incident on the battlefield exposes how much Steve's falling apart under the crushing weight of leading the Avengers after Sokovia. Now Bucky's adopting a new mission: save Steve before he destroys himself completely, even if it means the end of Captain America.

Give 'Em Hope ♥ by L1av - Words: 130,022 | Modern/Hospital AU, UA/Age Difference

Dr. Steve Rogers likes to think that if his patients have hope- their chances of survival will increase. Bucky Barnes has a 20% chance of survival and a desperate yearning to experience life. Against Steve's better judgment, he develops a relationship with his patient. It's illegal. It's wrong. But it's giving Bucky the hope to keep going, so Steve's going to keep giving it, because he wants Bucky to survive. He needs him to.

You belong (to me) by hermionesmydawg - Words: 29,759 | S, DS, Canon Compliant, Post CW

"Hold on." Bucky lifted a finger and backed out of the doorway, returning a moment later with his cell phone. He snapped a photo of Steve, typed a few words, and then returned to his apple. "What the hell were you doing at a sex club last night?"

"Not having sex, if that's what you're wondering." An alert sounded from Steve's nightstand - a new Snapchat message. He rolled his eyes and unlocked his phone. Sam was always sending stupid Snapchats and frankly, Steve couldn't figure that goddamn app out and cursed whoever created that piece of shit.

The chat wasn't from Sam this time, however. It was a picture of himself, not looking guilty at all, with the caption "when your buddy catches you looking at p*rn."

Circling Back from the It’s Not Linear series by chaya - Words: 59,642 (Series Total: 136,782) | Canon Divergence

Steve looks for Bucky, Bucky finds Steve, Steve tries desperately to put Bucky back together. Bucky tries desperately to let him.

Continuing Education by 743ish, romanticalgirl - Words: 14,443 | S, Canon Universe/College, Shrunkyclunks

Steve is invited to be a guest lecturer on the WWII unit for Bucky's college course. Bucky's more than happy to glean any extra knowledge (in more than just history) from Steve, and Steve's happy to eductate him. But then Bucky has to decide if he can handle the fact that Steve throws himself into danger, and if the sex is worth it. Or if it's not just sex anymore.

Salt & Sugar by GoldBlooded, stfustucky - Words: 19,598 | Modern/Restaurant AU

Steve Rogers is a bigshot celebrity chef in New York City, and Bucky Barnes is a classically trained pastry chef in Moscow.

When billionaire and mutual friend Natasha Romanoff calls on them to collaborate for her Memorial Day Benefit Gala, they both brace themselves to spend the week working with some jerk they're bound to hate. Except... Steve makes a burger that could bring Bucky to tears, and Bucky makes tartlets so beautiful Steve's sure they qualify as art. Maybe, just maybe, together they could make this a night to remember.

@/sgtbarnes1917 and @/cptrogers1918 by BayleyWinchester - Words: 114,203 | Canon Universe, Social Media Fic

Bucky Barnes broke Twitter with one photo

Proprietary Information ♥ from the Additional Information series by notlucy - Words: 85,141 (Series Total: 165,871) | Modern AU, Age difference, Slow Burn

Okay, so Bucky Barnes has a crush on Steve Rogers. The guy's gorgeous, talented and, oh yeah, the Chief Design Officer of the biggest tech company in the world. In other words: he's so far out of Bucky's league that he might as well be in a different stratosphere.

Deep in the Woods (Where My Heart Has Been Waiting) by SilverMyfanwy - Words: 15,353 | Pioneer-AU, Shrinkyclinks

Steve Rogers gets lost in the woods in a snowstorm. Bucky Barnes takes him in. Pioneer-era AU ish with Shrinkyclinks, evil chickens and a cabin in the woods.

A Bucky Odyssey by inediblesushi, thorstbench - Words: 9,952 | Shrinkyclinks, Cap!Bucky, Nurse!Steve

Bucky Barnes, Captain America, has a plan to make Steve Rogers, SHIELD nurse, fall in love with him. Confiding in the Internet might not be the best idea, though. So when the bad pick up lines do not work and Steve looks determined to staying single, he decides to be more himself and less what he thinks he should be.

At first I wanted to wait to post this until I finished a few more fics from my ever growing read-later list but what the heck, now or never! I’ll probably end up making a part 2 reclist by the amount of fic I’m reading these days.

Happy reading and stay safe out there fellow Stucky trash members!!

#stucky #stucky fanfic #stucky fic rec #stucky fanfic rec #stucky fic #stucky fanfiction #stucky au #marvel fanfic #steve x bucky #my reclist #long post for ts #wow this is over a million words worth of fic + that doesnt include everything else ive read omg #the amount of talent in the destiel and stucky fandoms are insanely incredible #a total of 21 fics and at least 5 are apart of a series ... thats a lot of words

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helloprettybb · 4 years

Text

bring me back

My first Steve Rogers fic, so I don’t have very high hopes for this.

prequel

Warnings: one curse word and a whole lotta angst, but good ending

Word count: 3.1k

July Fourth is officially the worst day of the year. You used to enjoy it, but now, you can’t even think of the day without being filled with rage. Years ago, you would be celebrating the love of your life’s birthday, but now, you are alone. He didn’t even say goodbye before leaving for good. You knew that he loved her, but you didn’t realize just how much until the day he chose her over you.

Bucky tried to console you, but he was equally as hurt as you. Neither of you could wrap your heads around why he didn’t come back, but eventually, you had to accept it. As time passed, your sadness evolved to anger and now even the mention of Steve made your blood boil. Every ‘I love you’ was a lie that made you feel so whole only to break you apart when his true love was revealed.

So on every Fourth of July when everyone else is celebrating, you sit under The Tree. The Tree was outside the Compound and has been there for nearly 200 years. You and Steve had your first date there and it eventually became your spot. You shouldn’t be so sentimental, but you couldn’t help the feeling attached to such a simple object.

This Fourth of July is no different. Bucky’s firing up the grill while you stroll over to The Tree. The Tree is as beautiful as it had been on your first date. As you lightly trace your hand over it’s ridge, you notice something. Stepping back, you find a message carved into the bark. It reads, “Bring me back. Brooklyn, 1946.” Shit.

This is a sick joke. You must be imagining something, because this cannot be true. Is it really him? You know that it can’t be anyone else since before the compound, this was just a Stark Industries warehouse. “Bucky!” you shout, loud enough for him to hear you across the yard.

“I’m making burgers! What do you want?” He shouts back, still preoccupied with the grill.

“Come here!” you shout even more urgently, hoping he gets the message. You don’t even have to be near him to know he rolled his eyes. You hear his footsteps followed by his annoyed voice.

“If I burn the burgers because of you, I’m cutting down the tree.” he fake threatens. You’re still in too much shock to throw back a witty remark. He finally reaches you and asks, “What do you want?” All you do is point at the message. Bucky squints a little before his eyes widen with realization. “It can’t be.” is all he says.

You nod and reply, “It has to be him. Who else would write that?” The two of you just stare at the tree in silence until Bucky speaks up.

“So what do we do?” he asks. You sigh and weigh your options. If you ignore the message, you can live the rest of your life as normal. As appealing as that sounds, you know you can’t do that. As angry as Steve Rogers makes you, he is still the love of your life. You couldn’t not see him again if you had the chance.

You look Bucky dead in the eye and say, “We have to bring him back.

Your leg bounces up and down as you wait for him to pick up. Finally you hear him ask, “Hello?”

“Bruce, we need you to come to the Compound.” you state. After the battle, Bruce limited his days here. Now, it’s only you and Bucky with the occasional visit from Sam and others.

“Did something happen?” he asks, voice filled with concern. The last time you asked him here, one of your lab experiments exploded and you needed his help.

“It’s Steve.” you say plainly and before he could ask any questions, you hang up the phone.

The next morning, Bruce arrives at the Compound. “So what is it with Steve?” he asks.

Bucky replies, “Y/n found a message carved in the tree. It looks like he wants us to bring him back.” Bruce doesn’t even attempt to conceal his shock.

He doesn’t say anything so Bucky continues, “Do you think you could fire up that machine?” Bruce nods and leads you to the storage facility where all of Stark’s old inventions are.

“It won’t take me long to fire it up. But you’ll need to call Scott to get the Pym particles.” Bruce states while tinkering with the machine.

You immediately pipe up, “I’ll do it.” You dial your phone as you leave the room. You can’t stand thinking of Steve any longer and are desperate to find something to distract you. After you call Scott, who said he’d be there tomorrow, you invite Bruce to stay over.

While watching television, you feel yourself beginning to doze off. On the brink of sleep, you hear Bucky and Bruce talking at the kitchen table. “How’s she holding up?” Bruce asks. You could feel their eyes on you so you pretend to sleep.

“She seems fine, but I know it’s an act. I mean, he left her for Peggy.” Bucky explains sympathetically.

“He left you too.” Bruce replies. You hear Bucky sigh and hear him get up from the table.

“Yes, but it’s different for her. Bruce, he was going to marry her. You know, before the blip and all.” Bucky confesses. You feel a tear glide down your cheek as you know exactly what he’s talking about. You felt the ring in Steve’s pocket all those years ago.

You knew that the fight over the Accords would not end well, so you begged him to take you if he had to go. After days of arguing, he finally conceded and said he would get you if anything happened. Of course, something did happen, so when you got an anonymous text with coordinates and a time, you knew it was from him. For two years, you lived in hiding with Steve, Sam and Natasha. As Stark’s apprentice, your skills helped all of you stay undetected even by Stark’s state-of-the-are technology.

It was the day before Steve and Natasha found Wanda and Vision that you felt it. You were going through Steve’s pockets while doing laundry when you felt a small box. Out of curiosity, you opened the box and saw a simple, yet beautiful diamond ring. You wondered how he managed to get this, but figured it probably wasn’t in the most moral way. You heard the footsteps out the door and quickly shoved the box in the same pocket before throwing the pants in the pile.

“We have to go to Edinburgh.” Steve states.

“What happened?” you ask, knowing who’s there.

“Wanda and Vision need our help.” he answers curtly, not giving any information. Seeing the concern on your face, he softens and pulls you towards him. Whispering in your ear, “I’ll come back for you, I promise.” He kisses you lightly and leaves. That was the only promise he never kept.

The next day, Scott brings the Pym particles while Bruce finds the old suits. He hands it to you, but you shake your head. “I’m not going.” you state firmly. Luckily he doesn’t argue and passes a suit to Bucky. He leaves to put it on. Bruce asks, “You ready, Buck?” Bucky nods and takes position on the platform. You can’t help but compare this to when Steve left, but this time, you hope that he’ll come back. Bruce counts down as Bucky closes the suits helmet. He pushes the button and Bucky leaves. A couple seconds later, Bruce says, “Coming back in three, two, one.”

When he flips the switch, two figures appear. You instantly know which one is Steve. All the memories come flooding back and it takes everything in you to contain your tears. Before your mind could catch up, your feet lead you away and back to the Compound. You hear a faint call of your name, but continue walking.

You slam the door before collapsing into a sob. You knew seeing him would be difficult but you didn’t think it would be that damn hard. All the emotions that you’ve felt over the past five years hit you like a wave and you couldn’t keep it together. It was also the surreal feeling that he was actually back that you couldn’t come to grips with. As you begin to spiral, you hear an alert go off.

“Y/n, Steve Rogers is walking towards your door,” F.R.I.D.A.Y announces. You mentally thank your past self for programing F.R.I.D.A.Y to alert you whenever someone came towards your room.

“If he tries to come in, tell him that I’m not here.” you tell F.R.I.D.A.Y before using the emergency exit that leads to the garage. You slip out before Steve could even knock on the door.

Hopping into one of Tony’s least expensive cars, you tell F.R.I.D.A.Y, “Don’t let anyone know that I left or where I’m going.”

“Yes, ma’am,” F.R.I.D.A.Y replies, “I don’t mean to pry Miss Y/n, but aren’t you excited to see Captain Rogers?” You know that she’s just pulling at your leg so you chuckle dryly.

“Excited isn’t the word I’d use, F.R.I.D.A.Y,” you half-joke as you pull the car out. Luckily no one is outside and you leave. The drive is peaceful and finally lets you air out your thoughts.

You’re mad at Steve, right? He’s the one that left. You always stayed by his side, no matter what. The two of you were always there for each other, so why did he leave? You know that he loved her, but he said he moved on. He even claimed that he loved you more than he ever loved her. Was all of that a lie?

Before your thoughts could consume you completely, you arrive at your destination. Knocking on the door, you stare at the floorboards awkwardly. The door swings up and Morgan exclaims, “Aunt Y/n!” You smile as she gives you a big hug.

“You’re so big now! What are you, ten?” you ask cheerfully.

“Ten and a half!” She says proudly. You laugh and walk in the cabin. Pepper is in the kitchen and perks up when she sees you.

You apologize, “Sorry for not calling ahead. I just, really wanted to see you two.” Pepper leaves the kitchen to hug you.

“Oh, it’s no problem. I’m just happy to see you!” she replies. You needed a hug after everything that happened and Pepper could probably sense your sadness when she says, “Hey Morgan, don’t you have homework? You can talk to Aunt Y/n during dinner.” Morgan whines a little before scurrying to her room. When she leaves, Pepper sits you down on the couch and asks, “So what happened?”

You see the genuine concern in her eyes and can’t control the watering in your eyes. “Steve’s back,” you respond, voice wavering more than you’d like. Pepper is shocked for a moment before seeing your crumbling resolve.

“Oh sweetie,” she whispers before pulling you into another hug. This time, you can’t stop the tears from falling. You sniffle into Pepper’s shoulder, feeling slightly bad for wetting her nice blouse. You pull away and attempt to regain your composure.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know why I’m like this,” you apologize. Sniffling, you continue, “I should be happy that he’s back, right?”

Pepper reasons, “It’s understandable that you’re upset. He really hurt you when he left.”

“Yeah, but I moved on or at least, should have moved on. Ugh, when did I become so weak!” you declare, frustrated at your own feelings.

Pepper lightly grabs your hand and says in a very motherly tone, “You are not weak, Y/n. No one knows what you are going through.”

You sit in silence for a little, thinking over Pepper’s statement. You bite the inside of your cheek and ask, “How did you get over it?”

Pepper sighs a little sadly and responds, “Well, I knew why he did it. Of course, I was upset and even a little mad, but he left for a reason. It helps to put things in perspective. Tony made the ultimate sacrifice to save not only us, but the entire world.”

You stay at Pepper’s for a week before deciding that it’s finally time to leave. The week away from the Compound gave you some perspective and although your feelings toward Steve were messy to say the least, they were at least a little under control. When you were a couple miles away from the compound, you ask F.R.I.D.A.Y, “Who’s at the Compound now?”

“Just Bucky.” she responds. Just Bucky? Why isn’t Steve there? Then you remember that he has a lot of people to see again so it’s not surprising that he isn’t there.

But when you pull up to the Compound, you realize you’ve been lied to. Standing in front of the garage is Steve Rogers himself. You park the car in front of him and step out. Before he could get a word in, you remark flatly, “F.R.I.D.A.Y said that Bucky was the only one here.” It was hard looking him right in the eye. You almost want to run up and hug him, but your boiling anger and resentment stops you.

“I told her to not tell you I’m here.” he responds calmly, tone even and hard to read. You scoff and begin to walk away from him. But before you could walk inside, Steve grabs your wrist, tight enough to stop you but not enough to hurt.

“Y/n, we need to talk.” he says and now that you’re closer, you could see the pain in his eyes. You almost give in but know that his torment is nothing like the kind you feel inside.

“Get your hand off of me, Rogers.” you bite back, not holding any of the bitterness back. Steve doesn’t say anything and lets go of your wrist. While you walk away, you throw the keys at him, which due to his superhuman reflexes, he catches instantly.

“Park the car. I would’ve but someone was standing in my way,” you comment annoyedly before walking inside. You don’t look back, but when you hear the engine rev, a part of you fills with pride.

You stroll into the kitchen to grab some food. Bucky’s there eating a piece of pizza and nods a silent hello. You wave curtly and search the fridge. “Where’d you go? Bucky asks, trying to sound low-key.

“Pepper’s. Had to help Morgan with her homework,” you joke, both of you knowing that’s not the reason. Bucky mutters a quiet okay before returning to his pizza. You hear the door open so you grab an apple and escape to your lab. You knew you couldn’t handle any more confrontation today.

At your lab, or rather Tony’s old one, you go to the security cameras and open to the kitchen. Bucky is still eating, but he’s joined by Steve. You turn the audio on and eavesdrop on their conversation.

“You gotta help me, Buck.” Steve almost begs. You could hear the desperation in his voice.

Bucky just shakes his head and answers, “I’m sorry, but I can’t. You really hurt her.” Steve leans back on the counter and sighs in despair. Bucky reads his body language and walks over to him.

“Look, there’s hope she’ll forgive you.” he assures to a rather hopeless Steve.

“Really?” he asks in a disbelieving tone.

“Yeah, after all. She’s the one who wanted you back.” he comments before leaving the kitchen. You’ve heard enough. Closing the security camera and leaving your lab you finally decide to face the issue head on.

You enter the kitchen and see Steve leaning against the counter. You declare, “Why’d you do it?” Steve perks up and begins to step closer to you. You know the closer he gets to you, the weaker your composure becomes so you take a slight step back. It’s barely noticeable but you could see Steve’s shoulders slump a little at that. You fidget with your hands a bit, feeling your confidence dwindling. You can’t deny the power he has over you and even with five feet between you, it’s almost overwhelming.

“Why’d I leave or why’d I come back?” he asks. You could tell he’s reluctant to explain both reasons, but you need to know.

“Both, Steve. Why did you leave me?” you could feel your anger boiling over and can’t help but continue, “After all those years together, how could you just go back to her. I’m not even mad at Peggy because it wasn’t her fault. I’m mad at you, because you were the one who chose her over me!” There are tears brimming at your eyes and you know Steve can see them. He steps a bit closer, but this time you don’t retreat.

“I’m sorry, doll. It just didn’t feel the same after the snap.” You look through your watery eyes and see Steve’s equally pained face. “You know, I went back for you. But when you weren’t there, I figure you were snapped away.” This time Steve looks away from you. You feel the urge to comfort him and so you hesitantly place your hand on his. You rub the top of his hand soothingly and Steve smiles sadly, “I was devastated when I thought I’d never see you again. But in those five years, something changed. I started to accept that you were gone and that made me think I didn’t need you anymore.” You still can’t meet his eyes, finding it too difficult and too intimate. Steve notices and lightly place a hand under your chin to make eye contact.

“But I was wrong, Y/n. I will always need you.” he confesses and you smile a little. You wanted to be mad at him; you really did. But when you look into his eyes and listen to his words, you can’t help but see the man that you fell in love with.

Teary-eyed and very emotional, you respond, “Oh Steve.” Before pulling him into a searing kiss. You haven’t been with anyone else since Steve left and you’re glad you weren’t. No one could compare to Steve, especially when it came to his lips. They were just as soft as you remembered and equally as intoxicating. You missed everything about Steve, but especially this. When you needed to breathe, you pulled back slightly so that your foreheads were still touching.

“Please don’t leave me again?” you plead desperately, causing a tear to slowly fall from your eye.

Steve wipes it off before assuring, “I promise.” He buries his head into your shoulder and says, “I’ll never leave you ever again.” You pull him even closer and for the first time in years, feel at home. You realize that Steve never broke any promises and decades later, he still hasn’t.

#steve rogers #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers angst #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #avengers #avengers imagines #chris evans #chris evans angst #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you

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imgoingtocrash · 4 years

Text

knowing (of everything she doesn’t)

Chapters: 1/1

Rating: G

Word Count: 9,097

Relationships: Michelle Jones/Peter Parker, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Morgan Stark, Peter Parker & Pepper Potts & Morgan Stark & Tony Stark, Michelle Jones & Pepper Potts & Tony Stark, Happy Hogan & Michelle Jones, Happy Hogan & Peter Parker

Summary:

“Mister Stark means a lot to me, M,” Peter says firmly, effectively ending the discussion.

“I know,” she answers, squeezing his hand where it rests over the cupholder between them.

Looking out the window, what she thinks to herself is: do you mean that much to him?

Maybe it’s overprotective or presumptuous of her—she’s only known Peter well for a couple of years and has been dating him for less than one.

It’s just—in all that time, in all of the stories of his alter-ego’s exploits that he’s finally shared…she just can’t see how the universe-saving multibillionaire fits into all of this.

MJ joins Peter for a Thanksgiving visit to the Starks' lake house. It turns out that even after years of quiet observation and a few months of dating, there are still things about Peter Parker and his life that manage to surprise her.

Read on AO3

My gift for @peter-stank for @friendly-neighborhood-exchange!!! Happy belated Birthday, Beedee, and thank you so much for your amazing contributions to the fandom. Hopefully you enjoy this fic as much as I enjoyed writing it. <3 (Fic also under the cut, as requested by the exchange/until reveal.)

They’re an hour into a two and a half hour drive when Michelle decides to drop the question.

“Isn’t it weird?” MJ asks. “Casually being invited to your boss’s house for Thanksgiving?”

Peter shrugs, but she can see the way his shoulders tense underneath his hoodie when he answers, “Maybe. Before.”

Before doesn’t need to be clarified. The Blip.

“Besides, he makes a mean turkey stuffing. I promise, that’s worth it,” Peter attempts to deflect, the barest hint of a smile directed her way.

But Michelle has never been good at leaving well enough alone. She asks too many questions, sometimes makes people uncomfortable. It’s how she got good at academic decathlon and how she (mostly) figured out Peter was Spider-Man.

“What changed?”

“Hm?”

“The Blip was traumatic for everyone in one way or another. Why did it change things with Tony?” She never refers to him as Mister Stark despite Peter rarely ever calling his mentor anything else.

“It just…did.” Peter shrugs again, eyes determinately focused on the road ahead and far away from her. “He lost me, I almost lost him, it sucked. That’s all.”

“Okay, but—“ It just doesn’t make sense to her that he was an intern at SI or a superhero colleague or whatever, and somehow it added up to…whatever this is. Schlepping up to the Catskills in Peter’s hand-me-down Toyota for a few days at the Starks’ cabin. Like, that’s just a thing that Peter has been invited to do, and he doesn’t think anything of it.

“Mister Stark means a lot to me, M,” Peter says firmly, effectively ending the discussion.

“I know,” she answers, squeezing his hand where it rests over the cupholder between them.

Looking out the window, what she thinks to herself is: do you mean that much to him?

Maybe it’s overprotective or presumptuous of her—she’s only known Peter well for a couple of years and has been dating him for less than one.

It’s just—in all that time, in all of the stories of his alter-ego’s exploits that he’s finally shared…she just can’t see how the universe-saving multibillionaire fits into all of this.

They arrive at the lake house just as the sun’s setting, the orange hues reflecting across the water.

A loud thwack breaks the relative silence that’s formed by the car’s engine turning off.

“Petey!” shrieks the high pitched little voice that accompanies a little blur of movement out of the house.

Peter’s already unbuckling his seatbelt, a smile blown wide across his face. He kicks the door open—used to the way it sometimes sticks—and just barely misses hitting the brown-haired little girl that can only be Morgan Stark in her precious little head.

“Morgie!” Peter shouts in a parrot of her tone, not bothering to shut the door behind him before he picks up the five-year-old girl, spinning them both around in circles while she screams with laughter.

“’S so good to see you,” Peter says, pressing sloppy kisses to Morgan’s cheeks. “Did you miss me?”

“Yeah! Daddy said you were coming for a whole week this time, and I have a whole list of movies that you have to watch with me, and—“

Morgan trails on, but MJ is watching Peter—his attention is zeroed in on the girl in his arms, his megawatt grin on full display. He’s comfortable with her. She called him Petey—a nickname she knows is usually reserved only for May. She knew Peter was close with Morgan, but she’d always assumed it was in that way she sees her younger cousins every holiday and they think she’s the coolest person in the world for exactly eight hours, and then they don’t see or speak to each other again until the next family event, rinse and repeat.

The girl stops herself, moving her eyes directly to MJ and locking on. She’s always kind of hated that about little kids—they look into your soul and just kind of know things.

“Who’s that?” Morgan asks, more firmly wrapping her arms around Peter, as if to protect him.

(The only danger Peter’s been in from MJ in the last three hours was during their argument about road trip playlists. Particularly, Peter’s memetic gag of repeating What’s New Pussycat? on the same playlist multiple times and thinking she wouldn’t stop it before the first It’s Not Unusual.)

Michelle decides to get out of the car and introduce herself instead of awkwardly staring through the open door. It’s a bit of a chore—the passenger door’s handle is finicky—but she gets out without landing her ass in the mud and considers it a win. She still wipes her hands on her pants as she rounds the car, trying to remove any weird, nervous sweat. She’s not worried about it. She’s fine.

“I’m, um. Michelle,” she states, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. “Hi. Nice to meet you.”

Morgan’s head quirks to the side, looking Michelle up and down before she screams, “Daddy, Petey brought some weird stranger to Thanksgiving!” directly into Peter’s ear.

“Ow,” he hisses, rubbing at his earlobe. “Morgan, that’s not cool, MJ is—“

Morgan doesn’t let Peter finish, sticking out her tongue and wriggling out of Peter’s arms, running off towards the house as fast as she came out of it.

Tony Stark himself opens the screen door of the cabin next, chuckling as his daughter weaves between his legs. The effects from the battle with Thanos are clear—though it’s less intense than she imagines it was a year ago. White scar tissue spindles through the right side of Tony’s face, following down under his t-shirt and transitioning into to the metal arm painted the iconic Iron Man color scheme of red and gold.

Peter showed her the specs of that arm shortly after they got together—apparently Tony finished his rehab just after their trip to Europe, and it was supposed to be a gift from Peter. Seeing it on the man himself is…daunting, to say the least.

“Sorry about her,” Tony says, easing himself down the stairs as he approaches. There’s no kind of limp, but he seems to take his time with it all the same. “She gets a little territorial with us sometimes. Pep says we need to get her around more kids her own age, but the idea of sending her off to preschool…”

He shakes his head like he’s clearing cobwebs. She has to admit, he seems more human like this, surrounded by nature, talking about his daughter, the sun showing the lighter, grey strands of his hair more clearly.

“Hey, Pete,” Tony says, pulling Peter into a hug. It’s not just a one-armed casual sort of hug either, but a full one that goes on for a minute, dramatically rocking them back and forth. “Ugh, I missed you.”

“It’s only been a few days, Mister Stark!” Peter’s laughing reply is muffled into Tony’s shoulder. When they come apart, the smile from earlier has returned. Tony’s hands—robotic and human—have moved to Peter’s shoulders.

“A week. A whole week! I can’t spend that much time away from you anymore. It aggravates my angina.”

“Now you’re just trying to be embarrassing,” Peter grumbles, reluctant when the other man runs his hand through Peter’s gelled hair and musses it up just so.

“Absolutely,” Tony admits. He turns to Michelle. “You must be the famous scary girlfriend.”

“You’re just as bad as Morgan!” Peter whines. MJ isn’t sure she’s ever heard him sound so childish in his life despite the fact that he acts like a giant, overexcited goofball ninety percent of the time.

“My reputation precedes me,” Michelle ends up replying, shaking Tony’s hand when it’s offered. For some reason she was more nervous to meet Morgan than her father. Maybe it’s just her instinct to not be intimidated by rich tycoon types. Then again…she and the rest of the world know that he’s much more than that. Still. Old habits die hard.

“Now see, she can take a joke. I like her,” Tony says, nodding at Peter. Peter’s face goes a soft red, just edging on a full blush. She doesn’t really care if Tony likes her, but Peter clearly does.

Tony hooks an arm around both of their shoulders, leading them up to the house.

“Seriously, it’s good to have you guys. I’ve kind of been dreaming about the holidays—it got me through a lot of my physical therapy sessions,” he admits. It seems to be a more vulnerable comment than he lets on—Peter leans his head onto Tony’s shoulder. He’s almost too tall for it, but it’s…weirdly sweet. Peter’s big on physical comfort, as she now knows. Apparently even Tony has gotten used to it.

“Christmas is going to be a goddamn blow out, trust me,” Tony continues, breaking their grouping to lead them into the house. “Wall to wall Avengers, a mountain of presents. I’m slowly but surely convincing Pepper to let me build a fully functioning Santa’s sleigh to put on the roof.”

“No, he’s not,” comes a voice from deeper in the house. Pepper Potts steps in from what must be the kitchen, wiping flour off on the apron around her waist. “I will accept the light-up ones that are meant to be decoration and nothing else.”

Pepper presses a finger into her husband’s chest firmly, spreading a puff of flour and accenting her point with a quick peck to his lips. It’s a surprisingly domestic scene. She looks at Peter, and he’s looking at her already, soft doe eyes and a mind probably full of gross, sweet things that are way, way in their future.

Dork, she mouths. His returning smile is predictably un-cowed.

“You kids are just adorable,” Tony comments. Pepper nudges him with an elbow on her way to Peter.

“Hi, sweetie,” she says, pressing a kiss to his head and holding her hands up. “I’d hug you but—“

“All good,” Peter replies. “Anything I can do to help?”

“No, no. You unpack, relax. I’ve got it, just—semi-literally have my fingers in a lot of pies, right now.”

“That’s code for please, god, don’t let a Parker near my cooking,” Tony whispers to her.

“Enhanced. Hearing.” Peter’s look at his mentor is the closest to peeved that he really gets. (She has to admit, though—there’s a reason they mostly go out or order in on dates. Cooking isn’t really either of their fortes.)

“Boys,” Pepper hums. It sounds like this is a common occurrence in the Stark household. “It’s nice to meet you, Michelle. Peter talks about you all the time. Again, I’d shake your hand, but—“ She holds up her palms, shrugging.

“No it’s—super awesome to meet you. Thank you for having me.” It’s actually beyond awesome. Despite her beef with Stark Industries and their ilk, she has to admit Pepper Potts is pretty high on her list of inspirational female powerhouses. She became CEO at 40 with only a Bachelor’s in Business and a Fine Arts minor, and Stark Industries entered a historic era of technology production and philanthropy under her guidance.

“Oh my god, you’re totally starstruck right now, aren’t you?” Peter questions in her ear, quieter than Tony so that only she hears.

“Shut up,” she says between her teeth, swatting at his arm without breaking her smile at Pepper.

Pepper smiles, giving Tony a look that Michelle can’t decipher. It might be flirtatious? Are she and Peter reminding Pepper of Tony and herself when they were younger? Her life is so weird, right now.

“I’ll go get our stuff,” Peter offers, out the screen door before she can argue that she doesn’t need his help. Like, it’s nice that her boyfriend can lift an entire car’s worth of stuff in one go, but she doesn’t always need him to. It feels a little…exploitative of his powers, somehow.

“I have a five-year-old to console,” Tony says, then quirks his head. “Chide? Eh, I’ll feel it out in the moment. Maybe a little of both. Make yourself comfortable, Michelle.”

Pepper watches Tony ascend the stairs, a what can you do? sort of look on her face towards MJ.

“Seriously, you and Peter have the afternoon to yourselves. If you need anything, just ask FRIDAY.” Pepper points up to the ceiling, as if that’s where the AI lives—which, maybe it does—before she turns around and attends to the beeping timer coming from the kitchen.

Michelle’s had a little experience with Peter’s AI, Karen, but the whole house being run by a super AI is something totally out of the norm. Honestly, she’ll probably just ask Peter any questions to avoid conversing with it.

She takes the chance alone to really observe her surroundings. From the outside the house looked like a pretty rustic cabin, but inside it’s a mostly-open floor plan mix of modern design and homey decor.

In particular, she notices the walls and surfaces are covered in pictures. The entryway features what can only be a shot of Tony and Pepper’s wedding day. The lake is featured behind them—Tony in a suit, Pepper in a white maternity dress that accentuates her pregnant belly.

Further into the living area there’s a larger variety of shots: Baby Morgan in Tony’s arms at the hospital, a few older shots with faces Michelle recognizes—Bruce Banner, James Rhodes, and even a group shot of the Avengers, smiling and receiving Medals of Honor from the Mayor of New York.

Nestled in a few shots of Morgan at a few different ages is a familiar face. Peter is pictured with Tony—it’s a selfie that was clearly printed, Peter making a goofy face combating Tony’s unamused expression. Next to it is a more recent picture. It appears to be from the spring shortly after the battle. Morgan is sitting in Peter’s lap, her hands covered in sticky popsicle juice while Peter is taking a lick from the offered desert over her shoulder. Clearly a candid moment.

Finally, nestled in-between a shot of the Starks teaching a younger Morgan how to swim and a press picture of Tony and Pepper from a gala she can’t identify is one of Peter and Tony on the very couch next to her, both of them asleep and pajama-clad, like they’d fallen asleep like that the night before and someone caught it the morning after.

“Ugh, that one’s so bad,” Peter says, suddenly behind her. He has a talent for sneaking up on her, one that would probably be more useful if he wasn’t always running his mouth and announcing his presence, particularly to bad guys. “Of course you found it.”

“I didn’t realize—“ she starts, but frowns, unsure of exactly what she’s thinking. It’s so…homey, here, and Peter’s clearly welcome. She knew he visited a lot, but this… “You’re all over the place.”

Peter clearly doesn’t think anything of it, shrugging. “I, um. We didn’t have anywhere to go after, you know?”

He’s never comfortable talking about the Blip or the battle against Thanos. A lot of people aren’t, but Peter in particular always stumbles through it. In the months of their dating, he’s only brought it up if she’s asked, never on his own.

“We lived here for a while. Our old apartment belonged to someone else, but May wouldn’t take any charity, wouldn’t accept the Starks’ penthouse in the city. She and Pepper looked for a place in Queens for months, but there were suddenly all of those people looking for housing…”

He loses himself for a moment. He does this sometimes too, drifting off like he’s disconnected, unable to keep himself in the here and now.

She takes his hand, and with a squeeze he comes back. There aren’t any tears, but there’s a weight in his eyes that she recognizes: guilt. For having a home when others still don’t months later. For failing at stopping Thanos the first time. For any number of other things he’s yet to reveal to her.

“Peter…” she tries, but what can she say? It’s times like this that she wishes she was…more. That she was better equipped to handle this superhero life that he’s so dedicated to. He takes the weight of the world on his shoulders, and she hasn’t figured out exactly how to give him a break, to take some of the weight as her own, or if she ever can.

“It’s fine, I’m—anyway, it was just…kind of nice, after everything that happened. Tony was recovering from here, Pepper was working from home a lot, Morgan was scared, I was…” He clears his throat, not finishing the sentence. “It was good to have everyone under one roof for a while, that’s all.”

She tucks herself into his side in a hug, unsure how else to respond. He would accept platitudes but he wouldn’t believe them. She rarely knows the right thing to say, anyway. Maybe this is the best she can do.

He pats her shoulder, breaking the quiet. “Come on, I’ll show you upstairs.”

Peter keeps his arm around her as they walk, squeezing them both up the stairs with their backpacks in hand.

“We’re staying in my room.” He stops walking, stiffening in a way that makes her feel—well, her age. They haven’t even really discussed sex, but any discussions past their first few chaste kisses have turned out a little awkward, stumbling forward because neither of them have dated before this.

“I mean, as long as that’s okay with you, I can take the couch, or—“

“No, no, that’s fine. We’ve shared before,” she mumbles, knowing there have been a few times May must have seen them asleep on Peter’s bed and let them be. She assumes his aunt’s open door policy will stay in place, likely why the Starks are okay with them sharing. Not like she has much desire to do anything in the Starks’ house, and especially with a five-year-old only a few rooms away.

“Your room?” she asks, moving them along. She assumed he and May just shared a guest bed or something that he just took over whenever he visited, not that he had a room of his own.

“It, ah—Mister Stark insisted,” Peter laughs, but mixed in with the slight embarrassment is something warm too, shown by how Peter’s gaze turns to the door clearly labeled Morgan’s Room in a pretty cursive font, likely Pepper’s work. She can hear the soft murmurs of Tony’s voice in the room, meaning that Peter can probably hear the entire conversation.

There’s a bathroom in the hall that’s a mix of Morgan’s colorful bath toys and what she knows is Peter’s deodorant sitting on the sink counter. Next to Morgan’s room is another bedroom, likely Tony and Pepper’s. At the end of the hall is where they stop, the unmarked door holding a room that is different from Peter’s in New York, but funnily enough, almost more expressive of him.

Peter hasn’t made it a secret that he doesn’t love his new apartment—it’s smaller than their old place, and devoid of the memories from his Uncle Ben’s presence. He seems to think there’s not much point in decorating it with the future expectation of college dorms ahead of them, and has apparently spilled most of his personal effects across this room instead.

The A New Hope poster on the wall is one of the nicer reproductions, framed and—signed by Mark Hamill, of course, probably a gift from Tony. A hologram is up on the desk, the Spider-Man symbol lazily floating around like a desktop screensaver. There are a few Lego sets unfinished in the corner—Peter rarely finishes them without Ned to keep them on task.

It’s Peter spilling out of every crumpled sheet of loose-leaf paper, every sneaker missing its mate.

Peter immediately takes to cleaning up the array of dirty clothes on the floor, mumbling apologies. She spies a faded hoodie with the cracked screen-printing of MIT’s logo among the mess before he scoops it up too.

“I was in a hurry last time I was here, sorry. Pepper says she won’t clean up after me because it sets a bad example for Morgan—which I totally get! But also, I mean, you’ve met me.”

It’s as self-explanatory as he makes it sound—he has a busy life. Sometimes, when stuff is crazy, a few dirty socks on the floor don’t really matter so much.

However, she also senses that some part of him likes the mess. His room in the city is a cramped box, and the charging case for the Iron Spider takes up an entire corner on its own. Here, he’s free to spread himself across the floors and up the walls as much as he likes.

“Yeah, Parker, you are kind of a mess,” she teases, only smiling more at his response of wrinkling his nose up at her.

“Anyway,” he continues with a grunt, flinging a sock into a hamper that’s overfull like he’s some kind of basketball star and frowning when it bounces into the floor instead. “Since Pepper’s kicked us out of the kitchen and Mo is being a grouch, we can do whatever. FRIDAY has any movie or show you could want—comedies, romcoms, that sad documentary about polar bears you like…“

“It’s not sad, it’s realistic.”

“What’s real is that you watched me cry about the ice caps melting for like thirty minutes, M.”

He brings her close, wrapping his arms around her waist and swaying them in place like it’s some kind of grand romantic moment, the two of them bickering in the middle of his messy bedroom at Tony Stark’s house. For some reason she has the impression that he’ll spurt into a tall and lanky mess in a few years, but for now she’s still looking down at him just a smidge, meaning he’s looking up at her all…mushy and enamored.

“As we all should,” she replies, failing to sound serious because she’s suddenly distracted by the hint of Peter’s teeth peeking out of his smile. Her boyfriend is so cute, which, yes, she knew that, but it’s just—he’s so much, Peter Parker, and she’s barely even scratched the surface after quietly watching him for years and thinking she had him all figured out. It’s intimidating, to see the open emotion on his face and know there’s even more that she’d never considered underneath.

“I—“ She takes a breath, trying to recover from the flustered blush that’s creeped up her cheeks without her permission. “Nap. I could go for a nap. That sounds good, right?”

Peter’s smile grows—he’s always so entertained when he breaks her brain like this, so smug that he’s one of the only people that can.

At her warning look, he lets her awkward stumbling drop, holding up his hands. “Yeah, MJ, that’s—sounds good.”

“That’s what I thought.”

If she picked that activity for an excuse to hold Peter close for a few hours alone after the barrage of meeting so many new people, well, no one has to know.

“Pete.” A voice she only vaguely recognizes is within the edge of her consciousness. It’s not her step-father, so she chooses to ignore it, snuggling into the warmth under her head further. “Spiiiider-baby. Kiddo, c’mon, wake up.”

Her eyes open just a slit—watery vision turned milky by the overpowering beam of light that leaks in. In the darkness of the room, she finds Peter’s face, still firmly buried in his pillow. Behind him, partially obscured by the curve of his shoulder and the powerful light from the hallway, is Tony.

He smiles when he catches her eyes. “Not the one I planned on, but hey, one out of two’s not bad.”

“Peeetey,” Tony tries Peter again, this time accompanying his calls with a touch to Peter’s head, he’s—running his hand through Peter’s hair? Is she dreaming? “Buddy, it’s time to get up. It’s dinnertime.”

“Hm?” finally comes Peter’s groggy response, slurred as he turns into Tony’s hand.

“Magic words,” Tony jokes to her, stroking Peter’s curls again, fully mussing what’s already been ruined by their nap.

“Feels nice,” Peter sighs. He squeezes the arm he has around MJ, as if for emphasis. “M’comfy.”

“Aw, they’re so cute when they’re sleepy,” Tony full-on coos, and that seems to do it, eliciting a groan from Peter’s chest against her ear.

“You’re so embarrassing, Mister Stark.” Peter bats Tony’s hand away this time, rubbing at his eyes and flitting them over to the holographic clock on the desk—6:30 PM.

“We slept a while.”

“I’ll say. I had Morgan all primed for an apology and you two were totally passed out.”

MJ removes herself from Peter’s hold, running a hand through her loosened ponytail and catching a few matted curls with a frown.

Tony turns up the lights slowly, sliding the switch to half-power.

“I negotiated that you two would watch Mulan with her after dinner, by the way. She tests people with how they react to Disney movies. Don’t ask me why.”

Peter nods solemnly, stretching his arms with a few quick pops.

“I got Tangled. Ned and I went to see it with Ned’s little sister as kids, but I still got all choked up at the whole hair-cutting scene. Cemented me with her for life.”

Peter literally rolls off of the bed, landing on his feet as if he’d simply sat up and stood like a normal person.

She and Tony are similarly unimpressed.

“The fact that you also act like her personal spidery-jungle-gym probably doesn’t hurt either,” he comments.

“You’re just mad that she doesn’t play Iron Man as much anymore.”

Tony sniffs, but doesn’t deny it. “Pizza’s getting cold. Pepper was too tired to cook anything else tonight, and I instantly agreed.”

“But have you ever had pizza for Thanksgiving?” Peter inquires, tapping his skull with his pointer finger like this idea holds the secrets of the universe. “You order the night before and eat it reheated the next day. No cooking required.”

“Just say May burned a turkey the year before and you were scared,” Tony replies. “It’s so much faster that way.”

“I’ll have you know it was Uncle Ben who was scared—“

By the time they’ve moved on to weighing the importance of tradition versus creating new traditions, Michelle has managed to brush her hair back into a more controlled ponytail and has splashed a little water on her face in the bathroom.

They’re still in Peter’s room going at it when she returns.

“You guys talk a lot,” she interrupts.

They both go silent, look at each other, then shrug. It’s like looking into a mirror, in a weird way, and she’s concerned that she’s dating half of that mirror when the other half is Tony Stark, who spent years flying around in a suit of armor and almost died on multiple occasions.

“Daddy!” Morgan thumps her way up the stairs, sliding into Tony’s legs on socked feet. “Mommy said you’re taking too long.”

Tony easily brings his daughter into his arms, bouncing her on his hip and leading them down the stairs that way.

“Oh she did, did she?” he asks, voice taking on a playful quality. “That doesn’t sound like Mommy. She usually just tells me to hurry the fu—“

“Mister Stark!” Peter interjects, slapping his hands over Morgan’s ears and awkwardly hovering over Tony’s shoulder on the stairway to do it. Honestly, it would probably be more comfortable for him to just get on the ceiling at this point.

“Oh, I’m kidding! I wasn’t actually gonna say it!”

Tony pulls Morgan out of Peter’s loose grip, moving all of them forward and almost sending Peter toppling down the stairs. MJ grabs the back of Peter’s shirt even though she suspects his feet are doing the steadying for him.

“You guys are like some kind of messed up comedy troupe,” Michelle comments, watching Peter pout and dust off his clothes as if it will rid him of any embarrassment.

Pepper shakes her head at all of them as they enter the kitchen, probably having heard at least some of that. “More like a circus,” she grumbles.

“We do have an alpaca,” Tony adds, placing Morgan onto her feet.

“I think that’d be more of a petting zoo,” Peter argues.

“Michelle, I’m sorry about them,” Pepper says. “Get whatever you want, we always order plenty for Mister-Mega-Metabolism over here.”

Pepper points to Peter, who has already unceremoniously shoved half of a slice of pepperoni pizza in his mouth and has a trail of grease slipping down his chin.

“You guys are so mean,” he sulks without bothering to swallow, meaning the words are a garbled, spitting mess. “Mister Stark’s the one that keeps nagging me about my blood sugar!”

“You’re attracted to this,” Tony says to Michelle, pointing at Peter. “This? Really?”

“He’s alright,” she answers, dragging both a slice of vegetarian and a slice of cheese onto her own plate without bothering to look at Peter’s fake-hurt expression.

“MJ, you’re supposed to be on my side, this is—I can’t even—“

In his distraction, Morgan decides to be sneaky. Only MJ seems to catch her subtle movements toward Peter, using her short height to her advantage and the element of surprise to steal what’s left of the piece of pizza from Peter’s hand. She giggles to herself triumphantly, biting into it herself.

“Morgan, sweetie, that’s—“ Pepper tries, but seems to lose the end of the admonishment that was probably about germs.

Peter only smiles, crouching as if preparing for a fight.

“Here they go,” Tony hums, expectant in a way Michelle certainly isn’t.

“You better watch out, you little—!” In a fit of laughter, Morgan sprints out of the kitchen, Peter hot on her heels. They run a lap around the living room furniture.

“Peter, leave your sister alone, she needs to eat her—aaaaand they’re already in the yard,” Tony sighs. He and Pepper seem to give up, bringing their own plates and the so far unused plates of Peter and Morgan to the table. MJ follows suit, placing herself an empty chair between the two table heads.

“I swear to god, they’re normal, like, ninety percent of the time.” Tony pauses. “Eighty-five. Solid eighty percent.”

“Did you…?” MJ feels awkward asking about it, but maybe it’s something Peter hasn’t told her yet, something she wasn’t supposed to know that just slipped out. Tony said—he called Morgan Peter’s sister. “Is there something I should know?”

Both Tony and Pepper look at Michelle like she’s not making any sense.

“What you said—that Morgan is Peter’s sister, it’s just—I can keep a secret! I just didn’t know he was, you know. Yours.“

“He wishes,” Pepper snorts into her ice water.

Tony’s responding smile is far too wide.

“I keep asking May for partial custody, but she just won’t budge!” He snaps his fingers in a very exaggerated, aw, shucks way. Pepper and Tony both laugh.

“Ah,” she lets out, embarrassed to have even had the thought that Peter might be Tony’s secret child or something, picking at her pizza toppings to avoid looking at the Starks.

“Don’t worry about it, sweetie.” Pepper pats her arm comfortingly. “Before the Blip there were articles with pretty similar lines of questioning. All shut down because they photographed a minor, of course.”

Pepper seems pretty proud of that, and MJ supposes she should be. People definitely would have made the Spider-Man connection sooner if Peter and Tony were in the paper together all the time.

More seriously, Tony says, “I’ve looked at the kid’s blood…more than I wish I had, honestly, but he gets injured, it happens. Anyway, yeah, no. FRIDAY would have figured that one out pretty quickly. DNA scanners and all.”

She nods, and the awkward silence thankfully only has to sit for a few more seconds before Peter bursts back into the house, Morgan wriggling around and squealing in his arms.

“I caught a wild Morguna!” Peter cheers.

“Is that the name of an actual Pokémon?” Tony asks, switching his gaze between Pepper and Michelle for an answer. “Did I accidentally nickname my kid after a battling monster thing? I only know like three of them, help me out here.”

Peter rolls his eyes, placing Morgan down with a quick tickle to her ribs that sends her flying towards the table.

“Come eat, Little Miss,” Tony commands, patting his hand on the chair to his right. Peter sits automatically to his left. “Michelle won’t want to watch a movie with you if you misbehave.”

“Do you like Disney movies?” Morgan probes, kicking her feet under the table and creating a light vibration.

Michelle shrugs. “Depends on which movie.”

Morgan squints, accessing. She nods.

“Good answer.”

Next to her under the table, Peter gives her a thumbs up, another piece of pizza already in his other hand.

The answer of where he got the food is clear as Tony shoves his other piece over to Morgan.

Pepper rolls her eyes and stands to presumably help re-fill his plate from the boxes on the counter.

Mulan was as good as MJ remembered it being when she was a kid.

Morgan seemed pretty pleased when she started mouthing along the words to I’ll Make A Man Out Of You, but less so when that prompted Peter to turn it into a dance number including the jumping kicks that almost resulted in a broken glass coffee table.

Despite their earlier nap, Michelle and Peter both find it fairly easy to fall asleep that night.

Still, it may be because of the nap that she doesn’t sleep as hard. She feels a disturbance, physically—Peter’s warmth leaves the bed, the steady pressure of his spine against her own is no longer there.

At first Michelle thinks it’s just a quick bathroom trip. Then she finds that she’s not as comfortable as she was those five minutes before without Peter because he keeps the room warm and he’s cool under the sheets (possibly because of the spider-man thing, she’s never asked).

So she waits.

She thinks about the English paper that will be her final for this semester that she only has half an idea for, and what drills AcaDec should be running for their first practice after the break, and…still no Peter.

She thinks about the pictures she spotted of Peter and Tony in the kitchen—the one of them from his internship next to one of Tony in a hospital gown, Peter on the hospital bed, his body covering Tony’s lost arm, both of them smiling with wet eyes and what it all means.

He still isn’t back yet.

She scoots over to Peter’s side of the bed and peeks her head out of the open door. There’s not even a light on in the bathroom.

Well, now she definitely has to investigate.

The cabin probably isn’t old enough for any squeaky floorboards, but she watches her step just the same, aware of every little noise in the half-dark of the night. She makes it to the stairs before she finally sees the dim glow of lights on downstairs accompanying the sound of someone talking.

“…it’s just so—messy.“

“Then explain it to me.”

She goes to her tiptoes, moving just a few steps down. On the couch she identifies the owners of the voices—the backs of Peter and Tony’s heads are silhouetted in the light of the fireplace in front of them.

“Tony…” Peter says, clearly hesitant, curling further into the couch.

“I can handle it, Pete. It’s worse for me when I don’t know what you’re going through, trust me,” Tony replies.

“I don’t even know what I’m going through,” Peter jokes, but his voice is weak, and Tony doesn’t laugh.

Peter sighs. “It was just—one thing to another. Like, I was under that building, and I felt like I couldn’t breathe, and then it was Titan, and I couldn’t breathe and I could feel myself—I could feel it happening and I was reaching out to you, but then you were—“

She can’t see Peter’s face, but his arm moves over his eyes, and the sleeve comes away tear-stained. He’s crying. Peter’s crying, broken, and her heart strains to do something about it, but this is—all of this is so much and she’s just overhearing it, what is she even doing?

“You were dying and I couldn’t…I heard when your heart—when you—” Peter’s words hitch into sobs, quiet and purposefully muted, like he’s scared to release them.

“Oh, buddy, no, no,” Tony brings Peter closer, his arm bundling Peter against his chest. Earlier she’d thought of what Peter might look like years from now, but now he looks smaller, younger.

The things Peter’s seen…he fought aliens in space, he was dusted and remembers it, his hero, his mentor, this man taking on Peter’s tears and pain with his whole body, his heart—another father—almost died right in front of Peter’s eyes. God, Mysterio almost put a bullet through Peter’s head for revenge—they’re still children, how can Peter handle this, how could anyone?

“Shh, I’m right here. I’m here, I’ve got you,” Tony soothes easily, like Peter is Morgan, just another one of his children seeking comfort.

“It’s okay, Pete. Everyone is okay. Just let it out, you’re okay.” Tony presses a kiss to Peter’s head, rubbing Peter’s back, so gentle, so soft, so unlike anything the world has ever shown her about Tony Stark, something precious and kind.

Something saved only for Peter, for his family.

Michelle sits at the top of the stairs for too long.

Too long thinking of every epic story Peter’s ever told about Spider-Man—the bruises he brushes off, the cuts and scrapes that he can hide away within a day, all of the times that he wins, the failures glided over as footnotes to a success story.

There’s so much she doesn’t know.

She knew he carried guilt, responsibility, but never this. This is a raw, deep wound of loss. It’s a fear scraping at him in the dark that he hides in the light. That he hides from everyone. From her.

Peter is curling into Tony for that comfort instead, burying his fears and worries into the man who brought him into all of this. If there’s anyone that could understand, of course it would be Tony.

She doesn’t know what do to with this knowing of everything she doesn’t. These are things she’s scared to know, things she wants to know anyway because they’re a part of Peter, and she wants more of him despite the sensical parts of her brain that scream for her to run off to California for college and leave dating a literal superhero that regularly risks his own life behind.

As Peter’s tears start to taper off, she stands from her place on the stairs, tip-toeing her way back up to Peter’s bedroom just as quietly as she came, leaving Tony's final whisper of, “I love you, it’s okay,” behind her.

She lies down, bringing the covers that smell of Peter's body wash up to her neck, the familiar scent comforting.

She only falls back asleep as the first dregs of sunshine begin to peek through Peter’s blinds.

Peter doesn’t come back to bed.

Unlike the day before, Thanksgiving morning is a quiet affair. A fog seems to have fallen overnight, leaving the outside of the cabin wet and hazy, matching her mood after the night before.

MJ wakes lightly a few times: the scent of coffee hits her nose, a high-pitched giggle echoes from Morgan in the hall, the sounds of doors opening and closing downstairs break the spell on and off.

If Peter enters the room to get dressed, he doesn’t wake her. She’s not sure if she wants him to or not.

There’s this—knot, buried right in the middle of her chest. Guilt for watching a private moment. Disappointed that she hadn’t thought about it sooner, that she’d let herself accept his constant assurances that he was fine, that there was nothing for her to worry about beyond the norm.

It’s Happy that ends up waking her.

“Knock, knock,” he announces, pulling open the already cracked door. Michelle doesn’t think she’s ever seen him out of a suit before now—usually he’s playing driver for them after school or hovering around Peter and May’s place, something Peter’s only become minimally more comfortable with since May and Happy's dating-ish-thing started. He’s picked a dress shirt and dark jeans instead. Not far from casually formal, but still…weird.

“Morning,” she announces from her blanket bundle, sulky and comfortable.

His eyebrow raises, wrinkling his balding hairline. “Do I wanna know?”

She shrugs.

“Okay, well, Tony and the other kids are making breakfast. Doesn’t seem like your thing, missing out on good food.”

“Are you fat-shaming a growing teenage girl?” She raises an eyebrow, her face dead serious and her tone purposefully instigating.

“Of course not, why would you—“ he catches on quickly, used to her tricks by now, her jokes that aren’t jokes. His lips hint at a smile under his goatee. “Very funny, kid.”

“I thought so.” She smiles.

“Food in ten,” Happy reiterates, turning around to shut the door.

“Happy—wait,” MJ calls, hesitant. He looks back at her expectantly, but she isn’t sure what to say without saying everything, her emotions caught in her throat.

“You—Peter’s worked with you for a while, right?”

She sits up from under the covers, ignoring the borrowed t-shirt of Peter’s hanging off of her frame and the messy wrap containing her curls. This is Peter’s family, in a way, and Happy saw her unhinged and wielding a mace back in Europe. Surely they’re at the point of being able to ignore things like appropriate dress, or whatever.

Her hands end up wringing themselves together. She’s unsure where to look—the whole room is a reminder of Peter, a collage of all the different parts—the hero, the boy, the growing man.

Happy’s facial expression questions the non-sequitur, but he redirects to Peter’s bed anyway, situating himself comfortably, probably realizing this isn’t just about what she’s asking.

“Working with, not so much. Looking after his scrawny ass…” He nudges her with his shoulder, but she doesn’t brighten up much, so he sobers.

“In the beginning, I spent a lot of time ignoring him when he needed me the most. Tony and I both did, and we both regretted it. After the Vulture, things changed. I listened to every asinine voicemail, Tony instituted lab time every other weekend…”

Happy clears his throat, his eyes honest. “Don’t tell him this, but after we lost him, I spent so much time wishing I hadn’t missed a minute of it. I kept wishing I could get him back, listen to him babble about his nerdy crap in the back of the car for just one more hour. Stupid stuff.”

“But then he came back,” she supplies.

He nods. “Then he came back. Tony was out of commission, and I promised myself that I wasn’t ever going to miss another call, even if it was just the kid rattling my ear off about free churros or a dress that he thought looked nice on you at school that day.” At the ending comment, he bumps a hand at her leg, emphasizing.

“Ugh,” she groans, but puts a hand over her mouth to hide a smile. Happy doesn’t appear fooled.

“What’s this about, Michelle?” he asks, meeting her eyes.

She sighs, crossing her arms and leaning back against the bed’s headboard.

“It’s just—after everything that’s happened, after everything you’ve seen him go through…do you think—is Peter okay?”

Something dawns on Happy’s face, followed by a somber kind of smile.

“If you ask me, the people that choose to do this kind of thing—these hero types…none of ‘em are anything close to okay. I mean, you’ve seen the kind of stuff they’re up against first hand. Weird tech, magic, aliens…it doesn’t exactly scream mental stability if you’re going towards that kind of danger.”

It’s not meant to be comforting, and he doesn’t say it as such. It’s just a fact: normal people don’t put on suits and fight bad guys and come out on the other side unscathed. That’s why so few ever do it, powers aside.

“But it does speak to a lot of heart. People didn’t understand that about Tony, when he started: you have to care about people a whole hell of a lot to want to keep saving their ungrateful asses over and over again.”

“I know that Peter cares—and I love that about him!” She blushes at the heated admission, but Happy seems content to let it go with only a kind smile. “It’s just—I didn’t realize how hard it must be on him. He doesn’t tell me how hard it is. I don’t know what to do.”

“Talk to him?” Happy suggests with dry condescension.

She frowns at him, because very clearly she’s not there yet, which is why she’s talking to him.

“I had to try,” he sighs. “Look, I know it’s hard to see someone like him going through all of this. It’s even harder when they don’t admit things are tough. Sometimes it’s just—there’s not much that you can do. We sit on the sidelines, we pitch in where we can, and when they do need us…”

He trails off, looking out Peter’s window. The lake ripples with a light rain.

“When they do need us, we show up. We show up and tell them how stupid they are for acting tough. We’re there when it matters, even when they’re being stubborn and telling us to go.”

Happy shrugs. “Well, that’s always been my tactic, anyway.”

MJ shrugs back, biting her lip. “It’s not the worst advice I’ve ever heard.”

“Tony?” he questions.

“Captain America. Those pre-recorded seminars make you want a big bag of weed more than any college stoner alive.”

Happy actually does laugh at that, patting her knee over Peter’s comforter.

“You two are good together. And I’m not just saying that cause I’m romantic or something—though I did know Pepper and Tony would be perfect together before anyone else, and you can quote me on that.” He points his finger at her, dead serious. Clearly that’s a regular argument at the Stark family get-togethers.

“He’s not going to get lost in this alone. He has too many people on his side for that. But if you need him to be more honest, you’re probably going to have to ask for it. Multiple times. Explicitly. These geniuses have concrete skulls protecting all of that brain matter.” He taps against his own head for effect.

“Yeah, I—thanks, Happy.”

“No problem,” he replies. Then he groans as he lifts himself from the bed, standing. “Now get up, or Morgan’s going to hog all of the syrup. Tony’s not above stealing from her syrup pool, but I personally think it’s an abomination.”

Despite the quiet morning, downstairs is filled with activity once she arrives, her floral dress toned down by one of her favorite grandpa sweaters, grey and a little garish.

Happy arrived with James Rhodes, apparently, as the Colonel is currently swinging Morgan around the living room like it’s a playground. Pepper and Happy are involved in something at the stove, crowded together and bickering about whatever they’re attempting not to burn. Tony is absent at the moment (out feeding their alpaca, maybe,) but Peter’s gaze finds her from his place at the counter where he’s seemingly just stealing bits of fruit out of a bowl instead of contributing.

His smile makes her feel floaty, like the department store dress and thrift store sweater are something more elegant, something he’s revering from across the room. She has value outside of his opinion, yes, but she likes his stuttering compliments, the bloom of pink on his cheeks, the tentative hand he links into her own.

Michelle likes him, might even love him one day, and she wants to get past all of this business where she’s torn up about his other life as a superhero and get back to his eager attempts to get her to full-belly laugh, holding his hand in the hallway, sneaking chaste kisses as rewards for acing flash cards.

“Hey,” Peter says, but he looks just as pensive as she feels. Maybe he knows how she’s feeling, senses it with his weird tingle-thing.

“Hey.”

They end up breaking the following silence at the same time.

“Peter, I—“

“Can we—“

She tilts her head to the porch, smiling. They’re both kind of ridiculous. “Outside?”

Peter situates himself on the porch’s bannister, swinging his legs from his perch. She chooses to lean on the wood next to him.

She’s trying to prepare exactly what she wants to say when Peter says, “I know that you were there last night. I know you heard…well, everything.”

Michelle’s eyes go wide, turning to him apologetically. Of course, his super senses. He probably heard her heartbeat.

“I really didn’t mean to pry, you just didn’t come back to bed and when I overheard you were clearly so upset and—“

“It’s okay, MJ.”

“Is it, though?” she asks curtly. “Because it didn’t seem like that was the first time something like that’s happened.”

He looks away. “It’s not.”

She nudges his side with her own, swaying him on his ledge a little.

“I’m sorry. It’s my fault, bringing everything up like I did.”

“M, no, that’s not—“

She holds up a hand, asking for his silence.

“I just feel like I kept…pushing. You don’t really talk about all of this—Tony, the battle with Thanos, everything that made you want to become Spider-Man. And I realized I never really asked, either.”

She knows that she doesn’t have to take this burden on for him, but she wants him to know she’s listening, that she cares.

“I mean—Tony Stark is kind of your dad, dude! And I had no idea.”

Peter laughs, rubbing the back of his neck as if embarrassed. He also doesn’t deny it.

“It just…it made me feel like a crappy girlfriend, ‘cause I never thought about how all of that felt for you. That’s all.”

“You’re not a crappy girlfriend,” he replies, bringing her hand to his lips for a quick kiss. “Just ask Mister Stark—for all that I like talking, telling people about my problems…” He shakes his head in distaste. “I hate it. It feels like I’m just complaining.”

“Well, I personally love complaining, and would love to hear you do it more,” she says.

He lets out a breath of a laugh through his nose, but he sobers again, keeping hold of her hand and squeezing.

“The stuff with Tony…it can be hard to talk about him without mentioning everything that got us here. It’s easier to let people think what they want to.”

MJ nods, understanding. Tony has been a public figure for his entire life. It makes sense that he’s pretty insular about the people that he considers family. Anyone important can be a liability—at least, she knows that Peter also tends to see it that way.

“It’s cute that you care about my relationship with him so much, though. I didn’t realize you were so protective,” Peter teases, hopping off of the ledge and onto the porch next to her.

“Oh, shut up,” she grumbles, swaying their still-attached hands between them.

“Yeah, yeah,” he hums, smile wide across his face. He’s used to the parts of her that go hot and cold, and takes them in stride.

It feels good to have this out in the open, a previously closed door now tentatively cracked and inviting her in. It's a step closer, she thinks. A step closer to him and his world, this family he's made for himself.

A familiar look overtakes his face, and she feels a rush of warmth in her veins.

When they kiss—really kiss—it’s always tentative, a silent game of question and answer.

Peter inches closer, slow enough that she could turn away if she wanted. (She never does.)

Michelle tilts her head, reaffirming his desire. Are you sure? (He always is, his confidence always so much easier than hers.)

Together they take the final step, their movements more confident now as they’re slowly gaining practice. The slight difference of height between them often means she catches his top lip and his hands have a way of snaking around her waist, pulling them closer.

A wolf-whistle breaks them apart abruptly.

It’s Tony, walking over from what appears to be a barn not far from the lakeside, a teasing caught-the-canary smile in place.

“Well, well, look at you two,” he says, working his way up the steps with a little more pep than the day before.

“Please don’t start,” Peter begs, shrugging off the metal hand that immediately goes to ruffle his hair.

“Hey, you’re lucky it was just me. Rhodey has a real hard-on for breaking up PDA.”

“Please never say hard-on again in my presence.”

“Say it in mine,” Michelle interrupts. “I want it on camera.”

“I mean, I’m sure it already is if you look hard enough.”

Peter groans.

“I’ve never hidden my past from you, Pete. Now, Morgan—I’m hiding as much as possible from her internet searches until she’s at least sixteen.”

“I personally love the old flip-phone one of you drunkenly dancing on a bar-top to Toxic.”

“Oh, yeah! I actually remember that. Nice girl, Miss Spears.”

“I regret introducing you two,” Peter sighs, pouting.

“Love you too, kiddo,” Tony replies, opening the door ahead of them. “Now, c’mon. Happy’s going to deep-fry the turkey and you gotta watch. It’s some real Food Network shit.”

“Mommy! Daddy said your word again!” comes Morgan’s call from the living room area.

Peter shrugs to her, a smile on his face like he’s apologizing for getting her involved in all this.

She takes his hand again, giving it a squeeze before following him back into the Starks’ lake house and shutting the door.

#irondad #spiderson #spideychelle #ironfam #peter-stank #friendly-neighborhood-exchange #marvel #my writing

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feferipeixes · 4 years

Note

Even though their parents have made it clear that they will not be going back to gravity falls, Mabel makes deals with Dipper to tesser them there whenever their parents aren't around. This leads to a lot of midnight visits that can last until 4 or 5 am, since Stan's sleep schedule hasn't recovered from thirty years spending most of the night in a basement and their parents usually fall asleep around 11

At one end of the hall, a door clicked shut. At the other, a door quietly glided open, and a 13-year old girl’s head peeked out.

“Okay Dippler Effect, Mom and Dad went to sleep!” Mabel hissed excitedly. “Let’s ride!”

“That’s a new one,” Dipper replied in a whisper. The idea of sneaking out in the middle of the night still gave him anxiety, even though he’d done it a million times, even though no one but Mabel could hear him, even though the concept of him getting caught and punished was long dead. “Do you even know what the Doppler Effect is?”

“Sure do! It’s that thing when, like, if someone’s standing in one place listening to you, the sound of your brother’s protests get whinier as he blips away with you to go hang out with your friends!”

Dipper snorted into his hand. “Okay, that was pretty good.” He grabbed his sister’s hand. “Ready?”

Mabel put on a serious face, gripped her Dream Boy High backpack, and nodded. “Ready!”

There was a quick jerk as the air twisted around them – flashing colors filling Mabel’s vision and an awful nausea filling her stomach – and then it stopped. Mabel’s bedroom in Piedmont was gone, replaced by the kitchen of the Mystery Shack, complete with the sounds of a romcom floating in from the TV in the other room, a few empty cans of Pitt Cola sitting on the counter, and a sleeping Grunkle Stan slumped over the table.

Dipper floated over to his Grunkle and poked him in the head. His finger, unsurprisingly, went right through. “I thought he said he’d be awake,” he said, pouting. “Should I visit him in his dream and tell him to wake up, or -”

Mabel clapped giddily – cutting her brother off – threw her backpack to the ground, and unleashed the glee that had been building up within her since they’d planned this trip a couple of days earlier. She screamed at the top of her lungs, causing Dipper to clap his hands over his ears and recoil (which resulted in him clipping halfway through the refrigerator).

Stan jolted upright in his seat. “SOOS, THE COPS ARE HERE, HIDE THE VIOLINS!” he shouted. He blinked sleepily a few times, and then his eyes settled on Mabel bouncing up and down in front of him with a face-splitting smile on her face. “Oh, it’s just you kids. Geez, you’re gonna scare me into an early pension doing that.”

Mabel jumped at her Grunkle and hugged him tight. “Well, someone said he’d be awake at 11 so we could come by right after our parents went to sleep! Did someone forget it was our -”

There was the pounding of boots on stairs, and the door burst open to reveal Ford in a lab coat with ash on his face and in his hair. “Stanley! I heard screaming, what’s going on? Did the man-eating toaster come back? You swore you’d let me be the one to kill it if it did!”

“Calm down poindexter,” Stan started, “it’s just -“

“GREAT UNCLE FORD!” Mabel screeched, peeling herself off of Stan and running over to hug him instead. “You made it! I thought you were still having an awesome boat adventure!”

Ford flinched, but then ruffled Mabel’s hair. “Of course I made it, Mabel. Wouldn’t miss it.” A tuft of his hair spontaneously caught on fire, and he patted it out. “You’ll have to excuse me, I brought some of my research home with me. I must warn you, I may be slightly radioactive right now, so… watch out for that.”

“Haha, YES!” Mabel pumped her fist. “Soon I’ll have magic glitter dandruff!”

“Ask him about the boat trip, ask him about the boat trip!” Dipper whispered in Mabel’s ear. She waved him off.

“So nice of you to show up,” Stan said, getting up and punching his brother on the shoulder. “Did you finish cleaning all of your science crap out of the parlor?”

“Yes, yes, of course,” Ford countered, and then paused. “Mostly. Almost. There’s too many people in there right now anyway. But hold on – I only see Mabel. Where’s my former apprentice?”

“MABEL HE’S TALKING ABOUT ME,” Dipper hissed. “Tell him I want to know about his trip and the sea monsters and the cursed gold doubloons he’s hiding from Stan and -”

“Dipper’s right here!” Mabel chirped. “He’s just invisible right now! Speaking of, Grunkle Stan, did you get a sacrifice for him?”

“You know I did, sweetie.” Stan picked up his eight-ball cane and gestured down the hall. “But today’s an important day. He’s not getting none of that rodent’s blood hootenanny we usually get him. We got something special.”

Mabel started hopping up and down so violently that the walls shook and everyone had to cover their ears. “What does that mean!!!!!!!!”

Stan hoisted Mabel up onto his shoulders. “How about you come and look for yourself before you blow the whole house down?”

Mabel cackled. “Onwards, Stan-oshima!”

Dipper eyed his sister jealously, and then floated over to Ford and pretended to sit on his shoulders. He and Mabel stuck their tongues out at each other playfully, forgetting to pay attention to where they were being carried, until -

“SURPRISE!”

Dipper and Mabel both flinched at the chorus of voices, and Mabel almost toppled off of Stan’s shoulders. It was a moment before they could take in the sight in front of them, but by then, Stan had placed Mabel on the floor and people were already coming up to her and hugging her.

“Dude, so good to see you!” Wendy said. “Where’s your bro at?”

Soos pushed up next to Wendy. “Mabel! You made it! Is Dipper here too?”

“Hey, it’s my turn to talk to her,” Pacifica drawled. “You’re lucky I’m even here – my parents would never allow it. Good thing they’re in Venice right now. Why can’t I see Dipper?”

Mabel screamed in joy again. “I can’t believe it, all of our friends are here! Wendy and Soos and Pacifica and Candy and Grenda and Robbie and Thompson and that weird guy who likes America! You all made it! And bro-bro’s right here,” she added, grabbing her incorporeal brother and squeezing him close. “We just haven’t summoned him yet!”

“Sixer. That’s our cue,” Stan said from behind them.

Dipper and Mabel turned around to see Stan and Ford each holding a cake with the number “14″ written in the center. Stan placed his cake on the table, while Ford carried his over to an empty space of the floor where a summoning circle had been drawn out. He placed the cake in the middle, and pulled out a vial of blue liquid from his lab coat. He uncorked it, dropped the liquid into the circle, and then paused.

“Uhh, remind me what the incantation is?” he asked.

“It’s stella splendidum, te invoco -” Dipper started.

Mabel cut him off by grabbing his sides, effortlessly lifting him up, and throwing him at the circle. He squealed in surprise, his little wings flapping frantically as he toppled through the air. He came to a stop a few feet above the circle, at which point Mabel shouted, “COME ON OUT, DIPDOPS!”

Another yelp, and Dipper was yanked out of the Mindscape and into the real world. The cake they sacrificed to him disappeared, replaced by a very nervous looking demon. Even though Dipper trusted his friends in Gravity Falls to be more supportive than his parents, it had been a long time since he’d seen some of these people, and, well, things sure had changed even since the Transcendence. He felt every eye in the room fall on him, examining his fancy attire, his sharp teeth, his pointed ears and gold-on-black eyes.

And then they began to cheer.

“Good to see you little man!” Old Man McGucket yodeled.

The Multibear growled softly. “Such a lovely gathering now that you’re here.”

“The Mystery Twins are back!” Candy joined in.

An incredible sense of relief washed over Dipper. Mabel pushed her way through her friends and pulled him into a tight hug again.

“Can you believe it, bro-bro?” she said, giggling as the rest of the crowd rushed in to join her. “Everyone made it!”

“Yeah, this is incredible!” Dipper wiped a golden tear away from his eye. “Everyone’s still here. Everything’s still okay.”

“Hope you like it, kiddos,” Stan said, ruffling his hair just as Ford did Mabel’s. “Happy birthday.”

The twins grinned. The remaining cake was passed through the crowd until it was resting in front of them.

“Don’t forget to make a wish!” Grenda shouted.

Dipper laughed. “I don’t know about you, Mabes, but I’ve already got my wish.”

“Me too, bro-bro,” Mabel replied. “Although I wouldn’t say no to backstage passes to the Boyz 4 Now concert, or maybe a jetpack, or…”

“Just blow out the candles, dummy,” he retorted.

The crowd of their friends and family started chanting “Blow! Out! The candles! Blow! Out! The candles!” The birthday twins nodded and grabbed each other’s hands. They both drew in a large breath. They blew as hard as they could.

Applause rippled through the room, and Mabel and Dipper were happy.

—

At 5am, there was a soft blip, and two teenagers appeared in a bedroom in Piedmont, California. A newly 14-year old girl’s head peeked out the door, looked toward the other end of the hall, and then pulled back into the room.

“Looks like we got away with it, bro-bro!” Mabel whispered. “That was the best sneak out to Gravity Falls to date!”

“It sure was,” he replied, and a warbling note of gratitude filled his voice. “It sure was.”

(AO3 link)

#gravity falls #transcendence au #dipper pines #alcor the dreambender #mabel pines #stanley pines #stanford pines #fic #fluff #long post #my stuff #asks #anonymous #i went a little off script from this prompt but i hope you enjoy it anyway!

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illyrianwingspans · 4 years

Text

Do Not Go Gentle: when the party’s over

Link to song: when the party’s over by Billie Eilish (ma queen)

Synopsis: Feyre says fuck it.

TW: Emotional abuse, non-con near the end, brief mention of physical abuse, dark thoughts. Please, if you're sensitive to the topics, read with caution.

Ao3 Link

Chapter 11: when the party’s over

Relapses come slowly.

They don’t happen overnight: you don’t go to sleep one evening and wake up the next morning with your brain scrambled and fried with darkness and shadows. It doesn’t hit like a wave or a bullet or blunt impact.

Relapses are like parasites. They present themselves slowly, precisely, they’re smart—they know exactly what they’re doing. Relapses know your weaknesses, your Achilles’ heels, they know which strings and blocks to pull in order to make you unravel and come crashing down. But never, never are they fast. Never are they quick and dirty. They take their time and they enjoy it as they slowly suck the life out of you and you’re let with nothing but the shell of the person you once were.

As I stared at myself in the mirror that night, I wondered how I let myself get this far. I wondered why I didn’t just leave, why I didn’t pack my things, cash my cheques, take my money and run. What was it that kept me here? Why didn’t I just…go?

In the shower, I scrubbed at myself over and over again, trying to figure out how everything had gone so wrong so quickly. Was it me? Was it my mind, prone to these slips?

Was it the man who occupied my bed?

I didn’t know. I didn’t know.

Because no matter how much I racked my brain, no matter how many times I tried to untangle this knot, all I found were more questions. More dead ends. More thoughts, darker than the rest, that were threatening to destroy me altogether.

The mirror was fogged over with condensation. Good. I didn’t want to see the finger-sized bruises peppering my neck.

Because I knew they were there. They were blue and purple and gruesome, and I’d need to cover them up for the next week. Tamlin hadn’t tried to speak to me this morning as he got dressed for work, and I pretended to be asleep. Tonight would probably be another night of unbearable, stifling silence.

But I didn’t care. It felt like somebody had poured cement in my body over night, leaving me stiff and heavy, and my head was filled with this mind-numbing static that wouldn’t go away no matter how much cold water I splashed on my face.

Because another day of silence wasn’t anything new. This silence… it was all I had anymore.

And I found that I’d grown fond of it, and began to fear the noise.

Noise, like the chime of the elevator that had me scrambling to the closet to pull on a turtleneck sweater and some leggings. Starting my day off nude in front of Alis wasn’t necessarily a good thing. She was supposed to stop by at some point today to drop off some groceries, but I didn’t expect her to be so early.

“Hey Alis—” I croaked, voice rough, as I made my way to living room, only the person in the entrance wearing a black, crisp immaculate suit definitely wasn’t Alis.

Rhysand stood in front of me, hands in his pockets, smug amusement pulling the corners of his mouth into a smirk. “Feyre, darling. Looking lovely as ever. Really love what you’ve done with your hair.”

I blinked. Seeing him here was a shock, but honestly I wouldn’t really put it past him at this point. Crossing my arms, I sighed. “How did you get in here?”

The smirk on his face paused for a moment as his eyes shifted around my face, then settled on my eyes. He shrugged. “You weren’t very subtle when you punched the code in. And Tamlin’s not very creative. Zero three twenty-one, first day of Spring.”

I stared at him pointedly, and the smug faded away. He took in my appearance—really searched my face and wandered my body. It would’ve felt predatory, even suggestive if his face wasn’t filled with concern and sorrow.

My face filled with heat once more, and I turned around, swallowing hard. “Why are you here, Rhys.” It sounded more bored than curious. I knew why he was here, and I didn’t want to hear a word he had to say.

I didn’t need to look over my shoulder to know he’d followed me and the scraping of the chair against the floors let me know he sat at the counter bar stool. For a few moments, he was silent as I got the espresso beans from the coffee counter and fired up the machine.

“I miss you making my morning coffee. Nobody makes an Americano quite like you.”

I didn’t say anything. He goaded, “Nothing? No, ‘Thank you Rhys, I’ve missed you too’. No ‘Go to hell, Rhys’. Or my favourite, ‘You’re a prick, Rhys’.”

I stilled and closed my eyes. “Get to the point.” I didn’t have time for his wit or sarcasm. I just wanted to be alone.

His eyes practically burned into my back. I paid him no heed, though, as I poured the milk into the stainless steel steaming cup. Rhys cleared his throat, then said, “I was worried about you. After everything that happened yesterday.”

The din from the street below filled in the silence between us as I tried to find something to say. “You couldn’t have called? Texted? Something a little less invasive?”

“I called you seven times. Both last night and this morning.”

I frowned. I hadn’t checked my phone at all, too preoccupied with…

Absentmindedly, my fingers brushed the collar of my turtleneck. “I’ve been away from my phone.”

“I knew there was a reasonable explanation. But I had to see you anyway. To make sure you were okay.”

The milk steamer whined and I winced, then said over the shrieking machine, “I’m fine. Happy? You can leave now.”

“Feyre.” He sounded hurt, like he was betrayed or something that I couldn’t trust him. “Please. I’ve been searching every possible lead to find the people trying to kill you. You know the police won’t know where to start, they have no clue what happened with Isaac and James.”

Hazel eyes flashed in my mind but I shoved them away.

The bullet yesterday was a blip. I knew I should’ve but I… I just didn’t care.

“I told you Rhys. Let the police handle it, they know what they’re doing.”

“They don’t because they don’t know where to begin. You’re not listed to have any known enemies. Say, I don’t know, people who were killed in an accident at a coffee shop.”

I whirled around to him, spoon still in my hand and pointing at him accusingly. “You’re a real prick, you know that Rhys?”

Rhys stared at me, spoon raised, looking like a madwoman, and grinned. “There’s the Feyre I know and love.”

But there was this…this distraught filling my chest. Like before an earthquake when you feel the ground beginning to tremble beneath you, so infinitesimally, but enough to let you know that the whole goddamn world is falling apart. The blood in my veins froze, then thawed and boiled over until I melted, angry tears in my eyes.

Because this one interaction was probably the most exciting thing that’s happened to me in the last three months. Even with the wedding, even with the absurdities I dealt with being attached to this whole mess, this one simple conversation was more stimulating than three months living what was supposed to be my perfect life.

“You don’t have to lie to me,” he murmured, and I looked up, realizing my cheeks were wet with tears. Rhys’s face was soft as his gaze met mine. And I could tell he knew.

The ring on my finger, though, Tamlin’s words in my ear, made me snap out of it. I wasn’t supposed to talk to Rhys. I wasn’t supposed to even be in the same room with him, lest I wanted to royally piss off my finacee.

And I really couldn’t afford more nights like the last.

“Please, just get out. Leave me alone.” My voice was guttered. There was no winning not for either of us. Though Rhys had been a good friend, one of my only friends, my loyalty was to Tamlin. To the person I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.

The thought shook me to my core.

“Feyre—”

“Get out. Now.”

Rhys didn’t waste his time and slid out of the bar stool, feet swiftly carrying him to the front entrance. I followed behind him quietly, arms crossed in front of my chest as he straightened his jacket and cleared his throat.

“One thing, Feyre,” Rhys said quietly, defeat lining the droop of his shoulders.

“What?”

“It’s Cassian’s birthday tomorrow night. He’d really like it if you came. We’re going to Rita’s at seven.”

Tamlin would never let me go. And I was in no state to go to a night club, let alone with people I didn’t know, because surely there would be plenty more with them. But the kindness in his voice, the gentle, sincere manor with which he’d said it…

“I’ll think about it.”

***

I wanted to hurt him, I realized, as I sat in the bath, filled with bubbles so I couldn’t see my body. Alis had come and gone, the only other exciting part of my day—and I realized, stuck up here with nothing to do, that I wanted to hurt him. Like he hurt me.

Even if it would make things worse. Even if it was stupid, and I was being reckless, immature, infantile, I wanted to hurt him.

If that was going out with my friends, my true friends who had been there for me, then so be it.

Because honestly, at this point, I didn’t know if there was anything else left for me. Hope had flown out the window the second that I’d pulled that trigger. The second that the bullet had whizzed past my face.

The second he’d laid his hand on me.

And I knew, because every time I took a bath, I had to hold my sponge as tightly as possible to keep my fingers from reaching into the drawer beneath the sink and resorting back to my old ways.

***

That night, Tamlin bought me soup.

Soup, and flowers, and chocolates—and remorse. It was all over his face, I could tell when he saw me in the turtle neck, and his eyes had filled with shame. Something softened in me, and I let him pull me into his arms. I let him talk, talk about nothing and everything as we ate in bed together, and he put on my favourite movie.

I let him pull my body into the warmth of his. I let him touch me, intimate in a way we hadn’t been in a while.

I almost laughed when I realized after we’d both finished that he hadn’t taken off my shirt. That it was too painful to remind him of what’d he done, last night, not ten feet away from where we laid intertwined in each other.

So, no, there was no guilt the next day as I donned my warmest pair of dressy heels and a white, thin strapped dress I could layer beneath the black turtleneck I’d worn the day before. There was no guilt as I went out and bought a gift for Cassian using my secret debit card. And there was no guilt when I texted Tamlin saying I was going to Alis’s for her nephew’s birthday party. She wasn’t going to be at reception today, and I knew that tomorrow morning when she stopped by it wouldn’t be too hard to ask her to cover for me.

When seven o’clock came around, I was getting out of the Uber, my stomach in knots as I made my way to the hostess bar and asked, “Reservation for Cassian?”

“Right this way.”

The restaurant was food by day, shots by sundown, and I could see the dance floor in the distance, currently barren. I think I’d been here once, many moons ago in my college years, way before I’d met Tamlin. I also remember puking my guts out in the bathrooms, which only brought a small smile to my face.

It terrified me with each step we took closer to the table. Knowing Cassian, there were probably two dozen people there, maybe a few gym rats, or worse, mousy bimbos—

“Here you are,” the hostess said, and pointed to the table in the corner. Booth style, not too far off the dance floor, with only…

Five people. Five people sat around the circular booth, Rhys and Cassian included—both of whom were laughing heartily at something a gorgeous, jaw-dropping blonde woman who swirled a glass of red wine in her hands.

“Feyre!” It was Cassian who first spotted me, delight in his smile as he stood from where he was at the edge of the table. “You made it!” He slid out of his seat and made forward to wrap me in a hug. I couldn’t help but laugh as his arms squeezed me.

“Jeez, you really need to come back to the gym. You feel like a twig.” He said as he set me down. I punched him in the arm, which earned me whoop and a strangely terrifying smirk of approval from the other, smaller woman with black hair.

“A twig who hasn’t forgotten how to punch,” I said, before sliding into the table beside him. Across from me, looking as immaculate as always, Rhys grinned as he brought his drink to his lips.

“Everybody, this is Feyre Archeron. Feyre, this is Azriel, Morrigan and Amren. But feel free to refer to her as Tiny One.”

“Put a muzzle on it, Cassian. Lest you want spit in your food.” Amren, the asian woman with dark hair and grey, gleaming eyes looked as though she would rather be anywhere but here. She looked like she ate blood for breakfast.

The blonde one, Morrigan, said, “These two always go on and on about you. I’m so glad we could finally meet. Honestly, they’ve been hoarding you all to themselves.”

“For good reasons.” The last one, Azriel, said, voice low and rough like midnight. As I finally took in the dark hair, tanned skin and high cheek bones, I realized that I remembered him. I didn’t know where, but his face—it was like we’d seen each other just the other day.

“You look so familiar,” I said, and Azriel’s head tilted to the side. His face betrayed no emotion, and I could tell by his stiff demeanour that he wasn’t much of a talker. It was like shadows clung to him, like he preferred it that way, blending into the background.

He shrugged, the barest movement of his shoulders. Morrigan interjected, “I mean, he does look a lot like these two idiots.”

Rhys rolled his eyes. “Mor, that’s no way to speak to the person who signs your pay check.”

“Last time I checked, Mr. Noctis, we aren’t at work. And I may address my cousin however I please.”

My brows shot up as I looked from Mor to Rhys, from Mor’s round, rosy cheeks, fair skin and nearly bleach blonde hair to Rhys’s dark, tan features. I drawled, “Cousins?”

“In the loosest possible term biologically.” Cassian supplied. “Otherwise, they were basically attached at the hip as children. And now I’m stuck with her for every holiday and celebration against my will.”

“I can always return your gift, Cassian,” Mor said sweetly before taking a glass of wine. Then she looked to me and said, “Oh, we must get Feyre a drink. Pick your poison.”

I hadn’t drank in a long while. Usually just champagne or wine at Tamlin’s work events. But it’d been a long while since I had…

“Tequila?” Was the first word that left my mouth. I didn’t know what instinct made me say the most potent of liquors, but the knot in my chest was loosening with every smile and laugh shared around the table. Tonight, I wanted to let loose. I wanted to damn tomorrow and just do this one thing for myself.

For once, Tamlin’s voice wasn’t in the back of my head with a warning. And if that wasn’t a sign…

“Ooh, I like her. We can keep her. Make it two.” Amren said, a wicked smirk on her face. I didn’t know if it pleased me or horrified me.

Cassian jostled my shoulder and gleaned, “You’re gonna drink me under the table bringing the tequila out this early, Archeron.”

The waitress interrupted us, asking for our orders, and I quickly glanced at the menu and ordered the salmon and a salad, knowing I probably wouldn’t be able to finish half of it. And, just before she left, Rhys added, “We’ll also take a round of tequila.”

The evening passed by savoringly slowly, peppered with fine food, strong drinks and conversations that had me stifling my laughter. Cassian, Azriel and Rhys recounted the times they were in the Academy training together and the foolish things they’d pulled on each other—Azriel had stolen Cassian’s clothes and forced him to run buck-naked through the dormitory courtyard—and Mor told me of all the stupidities that came with working retail as a teenager. Amren offered quips and snide comments, and chatted quietly with Rhys about matters that seemed business-related, by the look of seriousness in Rhys’s eyes. His gaze flicked to me, catching me staring at him—I looked away quickly, but not before I saw the small grin on his face.

The meal, as the exorbitant prices promised, was delicious. And as I predicted, I only managed about two thirds of it before a wave of nausea and fullness ran over me and I had to resort to pushing food around the plate for the remainder of the meal. Rhys’s eyes narrowed as the waitress took away the plate, and I looked off towards the expanse of dance floor to conceal the blush flooding my cheeks.

There was cake—was, meaning Cassian ate most of it—then more drinks. Too many, because next thing I knew Mor was laughing and screaming at the top of her lungs against the din of the pounding music, trying to entice the table into dancing with her. Azriel and Cassian immediately stood, the both of them disappearing into the amassing crowd on the dance floor, whereas Amren headed over to the bar looking for something stronger, apparently (as if the other rounds weren’t enough to knock someone as tiny as her on their asses). It left Rhys and I remaining in the booth.

He pointed to the slice of cake sitting untouched before me. “You going to finish that?”

“Hm,” I snorted, “another bite wouldn’t hurt.” The chocolate mousse melted in my mouth and I sighed. Rhys was across from me in the semi-circle, and with the noise of the club, we’d have to shout at each other all night. So I stood, cake, fork and drink balancing precariously in my hands, and slid over until I was beside him.

He looked down at me and wondered, “Didn’t feel like dancing?”

“I’ve got two left feet.” I replied before taking another bite, my eyes wandering over his seated silhouette. Tonight he hadn’t worn his usual immaculate suit, but instead opted for a black silk-like button down and black jeans, tailored to the very inch. From beneath the collar of his neck, I could see the hint of a tattoo, and my brows shot up.

“You have a tattoo?”

His fingers tugged gently at the collar of his shirt. The movement sent a draft of something sweet in the air, like citrus and jasmine. A refreshing, comforting scent that had me leaning back against the plush leather. “It’s customary for people in my culture to get these tattoos.”

“Where are you from?” I wondered, fingers wandering over to my drink (though I knew full well I should’ve been slowing down).

“Illyria,” he answered, and pointed vaguely to the dancing crowd, “as are Cassian and Azriel. My mother was Illyrian and we were raised on the reserve. My father didn’t particularly like that, thought I should’ve been in the city with him, but my mother didn’t particularly care about what my father thought.”

Sipping from my drink, I nodded politely. I’d never been to the Illyrian reserve, which was an hour or so north of the city, though heard about it here and there in the news. Mainly about land disputes and rich assholes trying to buy it out. Now, looking at Rhys, the distinctive striking features made perfect sense.

“You can stare all you want. I consider it volunteer work, letting you gawk at me so openly.”

My cheeks heated and my mouth dropped open. I scoffed, “Gods, now I know why your only friends are your employees.”

“Keep your friends close and your payroll closer.” He gave me a wink, and I rolled my eyes. My gaze wandered off to the dance floor, where I could spot Mor in the distance flailing her arms—gracefully—and swaying from side to side in her bright red, skin tight dress. Cassian and Azriel were alongside her, though Cassian’s eyes were fixed on another woman who’d fallen into step with him, a slick, seductress smile on her face. Rhys shook his head at the sight, despite his cheeky grin, and I only laughed as I took another sip.

“Why aren’t you out there with them?”

At that, Rhys also took a long sip. He opened his mouth, closed it, then finally said, “I prefer your company far more to their sweaty…” he looked over, just in time to see the woman unabashedly grinding against Cassian, “‘dancing’.”

“Glad to know I rank a step above that.” My eyebrows raised emphatically, and Rhys’s face broke into a smile. I said, “Reminds me of my college days.”

“You went to college?”

“Prythian University,” I nodded, “two years only. I was part of a sorority for a while, though.”

His mouth fell open in surprise. “Oh, Feyre darling, you must tell.”

***

The rest of the night went…easy. I wasn’t worrying. There was no impending panic. There were no fears. Part of it had been the alcohol, yes—it’d loosened what’d been wound so tight for so long—but being here, being with people, laughing with friends… My mind, despite the haze of alcohol, felt clearer than it had in days.

Talking with Rhys was easier than breathing. It started with my college days, then to his studies abroad—peppered with some particularly interesting sexual experiences in foreign countries—then moved onto how he’d met his friends, which he assured me, were family first, employees secondly. Cassian had been abandoned in the Illyrian village, left to fend for himself in an inexistent, permanently drunk foster family, and Rhys could tell by the way the boy never had a lunch at school. CPS hadn’t gotten involved because of the abhorrence that was dealing within the torrid laws regarding indigenous communities, which meant Cassian was stuck. Rhys had found Cassian shivering in the cold at recess—his family hadn’t gotten him a winter jacket—and decided to bring him home to his mother. She’d been furious at first, but Cassian returned the next day, and the day after.

The same had been for Azriel, though the details were much more vague about the man cloaked in shadows. It was a gruesome tale, being an illegitimate son, constantly berated and beaten by his parents and older brothers. He’d gotten the gnarled, scarred hands because they thought a fun experiment would be to douse Azriel’s hands in gasoline and set them on fire. When Rhys came home with another stray, this time his mother didn’t even bother with fury. Only set to buying another cot to be squeezed in next to the two other boys.

Amren, though, met Rhys much later—in his college years, after the academy. She was an upperclassmen he’d met at a bar and tried to hook up with, to which she responded by humiliatingly laughing in his face. Rhys admitted he’d never felt more undignified than when Amren was doubled over in stitches at the thoughts of sleeping with him. Yet still, they’d become fast friends, and even faster business partners. Amren was the top of her class in law school, one of the smartest people he’d ever met, and as soon as he seized control of the company, his first order of business was hiring her as his second in command and chief legal officer.

The second order was to hire Morrigan—simply Mor—as his chief experience officer. Her and Rhys’s father had been the most invested in the company being the two major shareholders, though Rhys’s father shares made Keir’s, Mor’s father, look like pennies. Mor’s childhood had been a series of parental pressure, encouraging her to be wed off to exemplary, rich suitors Keir consistently tried to set her up with. She’d been engaged to marry one of them, Eris, son of Autumn Publishing’s CEO, not of her own volition. Rhys didn’t mention any specifics, only that it’d ended horribly, and Mor had never been the same since. But she was fiery, determined, and Rhys could only describe her as his best friend (though he made me promise to never mention that to her).

At some point, Mor had to come peel Rhys and I away from the booth—despite our vehement protests—and drag us onto the dance floor. The whole lot of us were jumping, screaming at the top of our lungs, and pounding back more liquor as the night sped along. I danced with everyone (Amren compromised by allowing us to dance near where she was seated by the bar), even Rhys, whose hands had been soft and warm as they wandered down the skin of my arms and shoulders. Cassian and I shimmied, Mor and I fake tangoed, even Azriel gave me a few twirls, not before it felt like the liquor was going to come straight back up, and I had to take a seat. The plush back of the booth seemed comfier than when I’d first sat down at the beginning of the night.

“Feyre?” Cassian asked. I opened my eyes, not having realized they were closed in the first place. Exhaustion had hidden just far enough away from me to have not noticed it drenching my bones. Beads of sweat had gathered on Cassian’s forehead from all the dancing. My tongue felt limp and heavy in my mouth, and the room felt as though it was spinning.

“Yes, my good sir?” I grinned sheepishly. Cassian’s mouth fell open in amused shock.

“You’re drunk,” he chortled.

“Pfft. Am not.”

“Are too,” he said, letting out another laugh. “Dear gods. What are we going to do with you?”

“Let me have some fun!” I whined, then knocked back the rest of my glass. My fingers groped at my throat as if they could ease the fire slithering in my chest. It burned all the way down, like I knew it would burn on its way back up—but I wanted more. This excitement, this pleasure, no matter how clouded or distorted it was, was all I had anymore.

“Let’s slow down, there, you’ve had a lot tonight.” Cassian suggested as I tried to wrench myself up from the table to get more. My butt hit the cushioned seat once more, body bouncing slightly with the impact. It made me laugh.

A laugh that slowly melted away as I took in Cassian’s sombre gaze, trained on my mouth. No, not on my mouth, I realized, but lower. My neck.

My stomach dropped. The neckline must’ve shifted, already it’d barely covered them in the first place—

Cassian’s eyes were burning when they met mine, and it was like my head was dunked into ice cold water, and I was sober in the span of a heartbeat.

“Feyre,” he breathed, and it was like the rest of the club disappeared.

I didn’t waste another second. He’d already known too much, and by some sort of miracle had kept it to himself, but this—this would ruin Tamlin and I. Quickly, I scrambled to find my bag, and pulled out my phone to call an Uber.

Only to find twenty two missed calls, and over fifty text messages from Tamlin. The earth dropped out from underneath me. My chest collapsed as I realized how horribly, horribly wrong this had all gone.

I should have never stepped foot outside the apartment. I should’ve just grinned and bared it instead of creating this steaming shit storm raining down on me.

Cassian was shouting something over the music, and I couldn’t hear him as I pressed away from the booth, heading to the club’s side door entrance where the smoker’s were. A voice called out my name, and I turned around to look over my shoulder—

To bump face first into a hard, male chest, sending me nearly teetering to the floor. When I looked up, an apology already on my tongue, every nerve in my body jumped as my eyes met Tamlin’s golden emerald ones, boring into my soul like he would shred it apart with his bare hands.

“I didn’t know Alis’s nephew was turning twenty one,” Tamlin snipped coldly, his fingers tightening around my wrist to the point of teeth-clenching pain.

“Tamlin, please. Not here. Let’s go.”

“What did you think would happen, Feyre? That I’d sit idly by as my wife was out to a child’s birthday party until one in the morning?”

“Fiancée,” I corrected seethingly, my hand slithering between us and pressing against his stomach to get him to move. “Let’s leave.”

“Feyre!” A voice called once more, only it died out right behind me. I sighed, tears pricking the corners of my eyes as I turned to see Cassian standing there, his expression one of stone cold fury as he stared Tamlin down.

Tamlin, the picture of opposition, only laughed. “I see. Alright.” He looked at me, but inclined his head to Cassian. “You came for a quick fuck?”

My face flushed with shame. I couldn’t even look at Cassian. “Tamlin, stop.”

“No, I get it. I understand. I think I have to set the record straight, though.” The only warning I had was the clenching of his fist, and it was the only warning I needed. I acted on instinct and brusquely grabbed my fiancée by his right arm to hold him back. I hate that I knew it was his preferred hand to punch with.

Tamlin whirled on me, his eyes burning with rage. His hand clutched my jaw, fingertips pressing painfully into my cheeks, and I gasped as he pushed me into the wall perpendicular to the exit door. He growled, “Stay out of this. You’ve done enough already, you fucking—”

“Let go of her!” Cassian yelled, striding towards us like he was ready to slam Tamlin through the goddamned door.

Another figure appeared in the background, the same man who’d been outside the door who only uttered, “You two. Out. Now.” Pointing to both Tamlin and I, he signalled for us to step out. Even Cassian paused at the bouncer’s presence.

And behind the bounder stood Rhys, whose eyes were filled with contempt for the man beside me. He’d lowered his hands, thank the gods—I don’t know what Rhys would’ve done if he’d found us like that. Eviscerated Tamlin, most likely.

I just wanted to go home. I wanted the silence back.

“Let’s go, Feyre,” Tamlin said, laying his hand on my shoulder. I flinched at his touch.

We stepped out the door, and I didn’t look back, though I knew their eyes were burning through me.

***

“I told you to never speak to him again.”

I said nothing. It was true. I’d explicitly gone behind his back.

“He was being friendly, Tamlin.”

“You’re not friends. Rhysand is not your friend. How many times do I have to say it to you for you to finally understand?”

He’s more of a friend than you, I wanted to spit, but there was no fire left in me. It’d been strangled out the moment his hands had clenched around my throat, bereft of the oxygen needed to keep on.

“I know you went to see him before the wedding.”

I swallowed hard. I couldn’t even look at him from where I sat perched on the edge of the bed. “You’ve been following me again?”

“Because you’ve been disobeying me.”

Disobeying. The word sliced through me. Like I was no more than his pet.

“He’s the danger, Feyre. He was involved in the operation that nearly got you killed. The day after you went to see him, the day of our wedding, that sniper nearly killed you. Don’t you see it?”

I wanted to laugh. I wanted to draw a map of Tamlin’s ignorance, of all the ways he’d went wrong—I wanted to show him his shortcomings, how foolish he was not to see that he’d dug this grave himself.

But there was nothing left within me. Only a barren of wasteland bestrewed with the ruins of the person who’d crumbled into nothing.

“I’m sorry.” The words were broken jagged pieces I offered to him with bloody hands.

He didn’t respond. Only approached me slowly, carefully, then tucked a piece of hair behind my ear. I sighed and leaned into the palm of his hand. Then he was kissing me, pushing me back onto the bed.

Mine, mine, mine—I could see the word in his eyes, feel it with every thrust of his body from behind me, hands gripping my back and pinning me to the mattress. Protect, protect, protect. We both finished, and he rolled onto his side and fell fast asleep.

I curled onto my side, wondering if the tears would ever come. They didn’t. Only silent, dry sobs I tried to stifle with my pillow.

Because I wouldn’t dare shatter the silence I’d finally found at last.

#dngg #acotar #acomaf #acowar #a court of thorns and roses #sjm #sarah j maas #feyre #rhysand #rhys #acotar fanfic #acotar fanfiction #feysand #feysand fanfic

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usetheventsclint · 5 years

Text

The Truth (Quentin Beck x Stark!Fem!Reader)

FAR FROM HOME SPOILERS AHEAD

Summary: You never thought that you would fall for the mysterious stranger from another world, and perhaps it would have been better for you if that was the case.

Warnings: Angst. Only Angst. I’m sorry. Also, my writing is pretty bad, but I just got super bored and noticed there was hardly anything written for Beck yet (probably because the film has only been out for like... 3 days)

You should’ve expected it. Despite looking for the best in people, it always led to you being let down. Back when your father was still alive, he’d often miss important moments in your life due to prioritizing work so much- birthdays, award ceremonies, your graduation- but you never blamed for it. Hell, after he became Iron Man, you felt like you couldn’t pull him away from saving the lives of others for things that meant nothing in comparison. You always thought there would be more time eventually anyway, picturing him retiring and letting his essentially adopted spider-son step up to the superhero role… yet it would never come to pass, with him sacrificing himself to save everyone.

The world had thrown so much at you, so when Quentin Beck kept showing up in your life it felt like payback for everything you had been through. You’d met him not too long after Tony’s funeral, with him approaching you as you tried distracting yourself from everything, still clearly in denial about what happened during the ‘Battle for the World’. Though you had initially brushed him off, used to so many people approaching you throughout your life purely on the basis of you being a Stark- and even more so now due to your father’s death- there was something about him that drew you in.

-----

“Beck. Quentin Beck.” The male smiled, offering his hand as he sat beside you. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, internally cursing not bringing someone to keep you company. Happy was often a good choice when it came to wading off unwanted attention, but he was busy with May Parker, and honestly deserved a break from everything. “You look really familiar.” He continues, clearly not getting the hint as he leans into the view.

Nodding, you finish your drink before offering him a polite smile. “Yeah, I get that a lot.” You awkwardly shuffle off your seat, preparing to call an uber or something to get out of here as fast as humanly possible. However, to your dismay, the much taller male takes a few strides and quickly catches up to you.

“I, uh… didn’t mean to make you feel awkward.” he responds, sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s just… I’m not used to seeing people who look so familiar- not here, anyway.”

You cock your head to the side, your eyes meeting his. “I’m sorry, but now isn’t a good time. I don’t know you, Beck.”

He closes his eyes for a moment, and when he opens them again, you see a slight hint of sorrow. “Apologies. I just thought you were… You look a lot like the late Y/N Stark, is all.”

Raising your eyebrow, you can’t help but laugh. He was certainly different from the regular people that tried to hit on you, that’s for sure. By now, most people had given up and just asked if they could have some money. “That’s new.” You respond, trying to figure out the mysterious stranger in front of you. “I’m pretty sure I’m alive.”

His eyes widen, and the sadness in his eyes only grows. “I see, that means you’re… never mind” he murmurs, avoiding your gaze completely. “Do me a favour, Y/N? Just… have a nice life. Take chances, live your life, and make it great.”

“You’re not from the future or something right?” you nervously chuckle. “Telling me to live my life before I’m inevitably taken out by someone? You said I was dead, so-“

“No- I’m not from the future, and you’re perfectly safe… but I mean what I said. Live your life, Y/N. Do what you want to do, not what others expect you to do. You’re greater than you know” Offering you one last wave, he walks out of the door and out of view. Most encounters you had throughout the day were just forgotten about, but there was something about him that made you certain that you wouldn’t forget him any time soon.

-----

Over the next few weeks, you encountered the brunette far more often, almost as if fate was pulling you together. From just passing each other in the street, to ending up at the same coffee shops on most mornings, to showing up in your dreams. It wasn’t until you decided to head to Nick Fury to talk about some intel regarding the recent disappearance of the body of a fallen Sokovian that you realised just how far ‘fate’ was willing to go. Instead of being greeted by Maria Hill, or the aforementioned eye-patch wearing male, you found yourself face to face with a familiar set of sky blue eyes.

-----

“Wait a minute, Beck? What are you doing here?” you ask, quickly looking around the area to find any sign of the SHIELD agents. “I mean, it’s not that I’m not glad to see you or anything, but there’s a difference between just bumping into each other and… whatever this is.”

“Stand down, Y/N.” Fury’s familiar voice calls out. You turn around, with a wave of relief washing over you as he walks out of the shadows, followed shortly by Hill. “I see you are already acquainted with Mr Beck here, which makes my job a whole lot easier.”

“Riiight.” You respond, not even attempting to hide your confusion. “Listen, I just came to drop some files regarding Pie-“

“Have you heard about the recent attack in Mexico?” Fury questions, abruptly cutting you off. Previously adamant about getting as much information as to what happened to the silver-haired male’s body, you could tell that this was something very important if Fury dismissed it so quickly.

“The whole ‘killer wind’ thing?”

Quentin offers you a small smile. “On my Earth, we call-called them elementals. Beings of unimaginable power, even just one of which has the ability to destroy the world. Two have already been taken down- but there are still two to go; water and fire- undoubtedly the most difficult of the four to take down.”

“I see… So what does this have to do with me? Fury, I’m happy to provide you with any information I come across- you know that- but if this is another attempt to recruit me into the Avengers, I swear to Thor that I’m going to kill- Wait.” You pause in place, the cogs in your head turning as you piece together exactly what Beck said. “Your Earth? As in ‘the multiverse is a thing’ your Earth?”

He nods. “The elementals already destroyed my home. I’m here to make sure that it doesn’t happen to another world,” he continues, idly fiddling with a golden ring placed on his finger. You hadn’t noticed it before, but it didn’t take much to put two and two together to figure out that the person who owned the other ring was no longer here. “I honestly didn’t mean to come across as a creep when we first met. Y/N Stark, as I know her, is dead. I just wasn’t expecting to find her doppelganger so early on.”

“I’m… I’m sorry Quentin. I didn’t know.”

“Of course you didn’t, how were you supposed to? Anyway, we could use your help in tracking them down.”

You nod, taking your place next to him as you begin to comb through the available intel. You feel his eyes on you, and notice a soft smile spread across his lips- a smile that, for once, you can’ t help but return.

----

It didn’t take long for you to fall under his spell. With Fury often pulling you away from Stark Industries for intel gathering, you found yourself in the company of Quentin far more than you had ever expected. It wasn’t unpleasant however. He often talked about everything that had happened in his world, and you filled him in on the history of the Avengers and the recent ‘blip’ events. It was comforting, being able to have a genuine talk with someone without them having other motives.

When he eventually asked you out, you didn’t think twice about saying yes, letting your heart lead you and ignoring the tiny voice at the back of your head saying something was up. He often talked about wanting to be the next Iron Man, which was certainly admirable and very much needed after everything that had happened. Had it not been for the wall-crawling teenager, who was trusted to continue Stark’s legacy on a superhero standpoint, and had Beck arrived sooner, you could’ve seen him working under Stark. However, completely blinded by this ‘perfect’ man, you failed to recognise some early warning signs- the way he flinched whenever you talked about Tony (odd, considering how much Quentin wanted to follow in his footsteps), the way he would try and change the subject if you talked about any of Tony’s old projects. You had just assumed that it was a sore subject for him, thinking about what happened to the other you and the other Tony in his universe.

Frankly though, you didn’t want to look at the warning signs. You wanted to be blissfully ignorant and- as Beck said when he first met you- live the life you wanted to live. For once in your life, everything was going perfectly, almost as if someone had whisked you away to a fairy-tale world where things somehow always worked out. That is why when FRIDAY overheard you and Pepper catching up as Beck headed out to fight the fire elemental, you didn’t want to hear what the AI had to say about him. FRIDAY talked about Quentin Beck- an amazing illusions specialist working on the Binary Augmented Retro-Framing tech, but was soon discharged for getting too power-hungry and for being far too unstable. You pushed the information aside and went to find Quentin, just expecting the reason for what FRIDAY said to be that it was this Earth’s version of him… not your Quentin.

From everything you had gathered with the help of Maria, you knew the next elemental was going to show up in Prague. Had it not been for Beck’s insistence that you stay behind for safety’s sake, you would be with him right now. You didn’t think too much about the danger, however, and quickly prepared a jet to take you over to him. You just had to see him, hear from him that everything FRIDAY said had nothing to do with him, and make sure he was okay. From what you had seen him do with the water elemental, you had no doubt that he was powerful, but Tony was also powerful- power and invincibility were not interchangeable.

By the time you set down in Prague, the fight was long over, but not over long enough for Quentin to have left the area. With secrecy mattering very little for this particularly personal ‘mission’, you decided to ask around to see if anyone had seen him. He clearly must’ve stuck out, with it only taking a few moments for someone to direct you to a nearby pub. You didn’t fail to overhear their comments on how they thought the place was abandoned, however. Thanking them, you head towards the location, running through a thousand different scenarios in your head. What if FRIDAY was right? What if everything you knew about him was a lie? What if-

Your thoughts come to an abrupt stop as you find yourself at the door to the pub, arriving far sooner than you had expected. Taking a deep breath, you try and step towards the door and press your hand against it. You don’t open it, however, finding yourself unable to. You were scared- scared of having your heart broken. There was nobody you’d admit it to, but you were scared of being let down by one of the few people left in your life that you cared about. Instead, you walk towards the side of the building opting to just look in. Peaking through the window, you notice two familiar faces- Peter, who looked less like he was on vacation and more like he’d just been through hell, and Beck. It initially seemed like they were just having a nice heart-to-heart, which almost gave you the courage to run in there and wrap your arms around Quentin, but something was stopping you. Something was off. It was something minor, but undoubtedly there. A flicker. A flicker was all it took for you to return to your space in the corner of the window and continue observing from there. It was as if, for a split second, the interior of the bar warped.

You wanted to just dismiss it, but your mind went back to what FRIDAY said. This Earth’s Beck was a special effects artist, and you couldn’t deny the possibility that what you were seeing had something to do with B.A.R.F. You had seen it in development, and despite being one of the crowning achievements of Stark Industries, it wasn’t perfect- there were occasional distortions in the simulation. You had also not failed to remember what the locals said, about this bar apparently being run down and ready for demolition.

“Hey Y/N. You alright? What’re you doing here?” Jumping up, you immediately spin on your heel and come face to face with Peter, only just realising that he had left the bar. “There aren’t any more elementals, right? You didn’t find anything that would suggest otherwise? I really just want to sleep for the next few days and then talk to MJ about stuff.”

You smile softly at the teenager. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just trying to… figure something out. As far as I’m aware, we’re good on the elementals. Haven’t seen anything pop up that would suggest another attack, and neither Hill or Fury have been in contact. I was just waiting for the right time to talk to Quentin, but you two looked like you were busy.”

“Isn’t he great?” Peter beamed back. “Honestly, if anyone is going to become the next Iron Man, it’s him.”

You tilt your head to the side, resting your back on the wall, now out of the view of the window. “That’s funny. Always thought you were supposed to become the next Iron Man or whatever. My dad had a lot of faith in you, Peter. Why else do you think he gave you E.D.I.T.H?”

“Oh, yeah. I’m glad you asked about that. I gave it to Mr Beck- uh, Quentin- uh, Mr Quentin Beck?”

You almost choked. “You what?”

“Well, I thought that Mr Stark entrusted it to me to find someone worthy of taking his place. I’m just a kid… I can’t do what he did… But I think ‘Mysterio’ can. He took down those elementals, not me. I’m not ready to be Iron Man. I’m just your friendly neighbourhood Spider-Man, not someone who can save the world.”

You exhaled softly, closing your eyes for a moment. Peter was right- he only a kid and deserved to have a life outside of all of this mess. As much as you wanted to say that he was wrong, and that he had more than proven himself, you wanted to give him that opportunity to just be a teenager. Hell, if he was going to pick someone to take over E.D.I.T.H, Beck wasn’t the worst choice in the world- that is, if Beck is who he says he is, and you still wanted to believe that. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right,” you mumble, your mind still going through all the possibilities as to how Quentin isn’t up to something nefarious. Perhaps you’re just tired, and the strange warping in scenery was just a by-product of jet-lag. “Anyway, I should uhh… probably get in there and talk to him. I guess you’re free now, so enjoy the rest of your vacation Peter, and good luck with MJ. I hope everything goes well between you two”

“Thanks,” he hums, walking off with an added spring in his step. You hadn’t seen him so full of energy since before the events that Thanos set in motion. It was nice to see.

Turning your attention back to the window, still having your back to the wall, the smile you had on your face watching Peter fades away in an instant. All the scenarios you ran through, all possible reasons for Beck being an honest person- all of it- were proven false. It wasn’t jet-lag, and you weren’t seeing things earlier. The illusion fully dissipates as soon as Peter is fully out of view, with the once elegant and modern bar being replaced by one that had seemingly been untouched for the past few years. An almost manic smile appears on Beck’s face, an expression that’s a stark contrast to the soft smile he often wore around you. He was up to something- he had always been up to something- and, whatever it was, it wasn’t anything good.

You heard everything. His plan to outsmart Peter, to get E.D.I.T.H, and to become the next Iron Man, all the while getting his revenge on Tony Stark for firing him years ago- there was no multiverse, or at the very least, he wasn’t from a different version of Earth. FRIDAY was right. Though the words never left his lips, you didn’t doubt that you were a part of his plan either- nothing more to him than a step towards getting revenge. You pull away from the window, letting out a choked sob as you curse yourself for ever thinking you had a chance at being happy.

“It’s rude to spy on people.” A voice calls out, immediately recognisable as Quentin, now wearing the E.D.I.T.H glasses. Once again, you had failed to notice someone leaving the bar, and this time it could get you killed. You let out a self-depreciating chuckle as you thought about all those lessons Nat and Clint had given you on gathering intel and not getting caught. You were usually good at it, but something about Beck caused you to drop your guard. If only there were more vents. “Y/N, Y/N. What am I going to do with you?” Grabbing your chin, he tilts your head to face him, his piercing blue eyes staring daggers into you.

You tried looking away but found yourself unable to. “You lied to me, you’re not from another Earth, are you? I should’ve just listened to FRIDAY. I shouldn’t have shown up here.” you mumble, forcing every word out lest it get caught in your throat. “You never cared about me, did you? This was all a part of your BS ploy to get revenge for being fired, wasn’t it?”

“No, no, Y/N. You have it all wrong.” he smiles, wiping a tear from the side of your cheek. You swat his hand away, but he seems completely unphased. “It may have started out that way when we first met, but I genuinely care for you.”

“Are you kidding me? You care about me?” your voice raises. “You care about me? I don’t even know you Quentin. Everything you’ve ever told me is a lie, and you expect me to believe that you care about me? I trusted you- I ignored obvious warning signs because I didn’t want to believe it. Had I just done my damn job, I’d have known. Had you cared about me, you would have told me”

“Y/N, if I didn’t care about you, you’d be dead already.” The almost joyous tone he uses sends shivers down your spine. “And you do know me. I’m going to give everyone hope. That’s inevitably going to lead to a few deaths, but it’ll all work out in the long run. I’m going to be the hero that everyone needs right now.”

“No Que- No Beck. You’re not… You’re not a hero.” You pull away from him, and for a brief moment, he seems almost hurt. It doesn’t last long, however, with him returning to his crazed expression. You shake your head. Brushing past him, you send out a message to be picked up. You weren’t ready to go home though, not yet. “I’m clearly not my father’s daughter- I must be an idiot for trusting you.”

>Heading back to you now. Set a course for Heathrow Airport. I need to clear my head.<

“Have a nice life, Beck.”

You half expected him to follow you- to keep an eye on you and make sure that you didn’t tell anyone about what went down. To shoot you in the back the second your eyes left his. However, all he did was stand in place, watching your retreating form with a smile on his face. You pulled out your phone once more, scrolling down to your emergency contact. Though you could never see the number registered to it- courtesy of the number’s owner, no doubt- it never failed to get you through to Nick Fury. Though impossible to track down, even with the help of the Stark technology you possessed, you still needed to get the warning out to him.

>Don’t trust Beck.<

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

Returning into the pub, Quentin gathers his team around. “Change of plan. Forget New York- our Avengers-level threat? We’re going to do it in London. Anyone who opposes this can answer to E.D.I.T.H.” Pulling out a photo from his pocket, he looks longingly at it- it was an image of you two, taken a few months into your relationship. Your lips were on his cheek, and you were both smiling, happy just to be in the company of one another. He runs a finger down your face, before promptly putting the image back. “I’ll show you I’m the hero… But first, I need to cover up some of the loose ends you’ve made.”

#marvel #mcu #marvel cinematic universe #far from home #spider-man #spiderman #ffh #quentin beck #mysterio #x reader #peter parker #mysterio x reader #quentin beck x reader

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upthenorthmountain · 6 years

Text

A First Time For Everything

Happy birthday @kristanna!

For you I have a story! Or the first part of one. I started this waaaay back in April, after Charis was talking about the idea a lot and I just started writing. Then I was ill for months and then I picked it up again and here it is! I hope you like it.

Big thanks to @karis-the-fangirl as always x

Rating: MA, 6462 words (I KNOW)

A First Time For Everything

“Hi, are you Anna?”

She turned, prepared to deny it if necessary, but the man asking looked, well, normal. He was six-foot-something, blond with brown eyes, wearing a nice shirt and jeans, and he was smiling.

“Um, yes?”

“I’m Kristoff. Can I get you a drink?”

“Sure, of course.”

“Lindsay sent me your picture,” Kristoff said as they sat down in the corner of the bar, “So I knew who I was looking for.”

“She said you’ve - done this before?”

“Few times, yeah.”

“So it’s okay? Do we, do we go to yours, or -”

“Hey. Anna.” She looked up, and caught his eye. His gaze was steady, and she took a deep breath to calm herself down. “I think we have a drink together,” he said, “And then we can decide what we want to do. Okay?”

She nodded.

“And if you’ve changed your mind, then that’s cool,” he said. “Okay?”

“Okay.”

Anna took a drink to steady herself. “Can I ask a question?”

“Of course, yeah.”

“How do you get into - this line of work? Oh no, not work, I don’t mean work, I mean -”

He laughed. “I know what you mean. It’s a fair question. OK. Well you know Lindsay’s my ex?”

“Yes, of course.”

“We were together a couple of years, and then we kinda grew apart so we split up but we stayed friends. And she was my first but I wasn’t hers, but she said a few times that she wished I had been because her first experience was, not good. I mean not awful but, yeah. She didn’t really enjoy it.”

Anna nodded. Kristoff was so matter-of-fact that she was quickly forgetting to feel awkward; she’d spent most of the day psyching herself up to come tonight, convinced it would go terribly and wondering why she was bothering, but it was fine so far.

“So after we broke up,” Kristoff continued, “A few months after, she rang me up and she said she had a friend who was complaining that her virginity seemed to be scaring the men away, and she asked me if I would sleep with her because, and I quote, ‘I know you’d do a proper job.’ Obviously I said no,” he added quickly. “Because, what the hell, but then I did agree to meet her friend for a drink and I thought….”

“What the hell,” Anna said. Kristoff smiled.

“Well, yeah,” he said. “And I guess I did do a proper job, because she recommended me to her cousin, and I suppose at some point I got a reputation.”

Anna nodded solemnly. “I’ve heard that can happen,” she said.

“Right. I suppose it probably all sounds really weird,” he said. “It all made sense at the time.”

“A little weird,” Anna said, fiddling with the stem of her wine glass. “I mean, I was just complaining to Alison - I don’t know if you know Alison - I didn’t expect her to actually come up with a solution! But I told her, you know, and she said, you need to speak to Linds, she knows a guy.” Kristoff laughed.

“How many times have you done this?” Anna asked.

“You are number five. Will be number five. No pressure.”

“I’m not going to change my mind. Once I decide to do something, I do it.” She drained her drink. “Your place or mine?”

-----

You’re so innocent, Anna, Henry said. It’s sweet, but it’s hard on me, sometimes. Having to teach you everything about how the world works, show you everything. It’s a heavy responsibility, knowing I’d be the only man you’d been with. And I don’t want you to wake up one day and realise you missed out.

Hadn’t she always done everything he wanted? Always agreed with him, had her hair done the way he liked, wore the jewellery he gave her (even if, privately, she found the earrings too heavy, the necklaces too showy). Didn’t she deserve the thing that she wanted? A ring. Jewellery, again. But this time she’d be happy to let him choose it.

She wanted to be married. It wasn’t about his money, it really wasn’t; she wanted the security, she wanted to know that he’d chosen her, someone always on her side, forever. That was what she wanted. Forever.

This was just a blip. She just needed to do this, rid herself of this pesky virginity, and she’d get him back.

-----

They went to his place.

Anna felt her nerves coming back as they walked down the street, and the only way she knew to get over them was to talk over them.

“This is a one-off, right?” she said.

“Hmm? Yeah. It’s not, like,” he smiled at her, “An ongoing course.”

That made Anna laugh. “You don’t have a syllabus? No powerpoint?”

“Just the practical.” He unlocked his front door. “Do you want another drink first?”

“No, I’d better not. Complete lightweight,” she explained. “Two drinks and I’m tipsy, three and I’m under the table.”

“Okay, fair enough.”

The front door to the flat led into an ordinary-looking hall. As Kristoff shut the door behind them, Anna fell silent, unsure what to do now. She didn’t know how these things - got started. “Where’s your bedroom?” she heard herself say, then froze, afraid he was going to laugh at her.

But he didn’t; just smiled, and said “It’s right here,” and leant past her to open a door. Beyond it, sure enough, was a perfectly ordinary bedroom, with a neatly made bed and the bedside lamp already lit.

He waited behind her, and Anna took a deep breath and a few steps forward. This was fine. She was in a man’s bedroom, a man she’d just met that evening, and it was fine. Lots of people did this all the time, and she even had references. She sat on the edge of the bed and pulled off her shoes. Her heart was drumming.

Kristoff opened his mouth as if he was going to say something, but after a second he closed it again and walked over to sit next to her. Anna’s head burst with a million questions - should she undress? Or did he want to do it? Or should she undress him? Or maybe it would be quicker if they didn’t, maybe she should just lie down and -

Her train of thought was thrown from the track by the warmth of Kristoff’s hand on the side of her face. She jumped slightly - not quite a flinch - and he paused, still; then leant in until his lips were a breath away from hers.

It was Anna that closed the gap, in a sudden movement that was almost jerky. She was so used to kissing Henry, it felt strange - this was different, so different, warmer and softer and she didn’t know what to do with her hands, it felt strange leaving them in her lap, when he was running his fingers through her hair to cup the back of her head - should she do that? She put one hand hesitantly on his shoulder.

But maybe it felt more like she was pushing him away, because Kristoff withdrew, moving his own hand down to her arm. “Relax, Anna,” he said. “If you’ve changed your mind, it’s okay.”

“I haven’t. I’m fine. I am!” she said at his sceptical expression. “I am, I want - this, I want…”

He was still looking at her, thoughtful. “Tell you what,” he said.

“What?”

“How about we lower the pressure a bit - go into the lounge and watch a film or something, see how we get on. It’s barely nine, we’ve got plenty of time.”

“Watch a film?”

“Sure, sit next to each other, kiss a bit if we want, see what happens.”

“...okay.”

He stood and Anna followed him through to his living room, which was also very tidy. Kristoff sat on the sofa and picked up a couple of remotes; once he’d brought up the Netflix screen he held out one of them to her, and she sat next to him to take it. “Whatever you like,” he said. “Nothing too gory.”

“Or too girly?”

“Whatever you like. I have sisters, girly doesn’t bother me.”

Anna scrolled down until she found a rom-com she liked, an old favourite. She hesitated on the selection, but Kristoff put his hand over hers on the remote and pressed the OK. “Sure, why not.”

He leant back and put his arm out. Anna shuffled across to him and let him pull her closer.

----

“Anna.”

“Hmmph?”

“Anna. Film’s finished. Let me walk you home.”

Anna blinked, puzzled. No, the film was only partway through, they were only at the scene where….although she’d got a bit distracted, because Kristoff kept kissing her, and it was nice, very nice once she got used to it. And then at one point she’d sort of snuggled up next to him and it was very cosy and now the film was over and also she seemed to have drooled on his t-shirt.

“I can’t go home,” she said. “We didn’t, you know.”

“It’s late, you’re obviously tired. Come on,” he said, standing up, “Where did you leave your shoes?”

“In the bedroom. Where we should go, because, I came here on a mission, and I shaved my legs all the way up and everything, and I want to get it done -”

“Anna, come on,” Kristoff said. “It’s not some horrible ordeal to get through, okay? If you’re not ready today, that’s fine. I’ll walk you home.”

“I’m sorry.”

“What for?” He left the room and returned with her shoes. She put them on.

“For - leading you on. And, um, for falling asleep on you.”

“You’re always allowed to change your mind,” was all he said.

-----

He walked her home, but neither of them said much - it was only a short walk, anyway. When they parted, Anna said “Thanks anyway. Even if it didn’t work out.”

“Well - if you want another try, give me a bell,” Kristoff said.

“Really? You didn’t find it - frustrating?”

“We didn’t really get far enough for that to be a problem - and, sure. You’re gorgeous,” he said, as if it was a simple statement of fact. “Think about it, okay? Up to you. Goodnight,” and he walked away.

-----

“Hello?”

“Hi, Kris - um, you know you said if I wanted to try again, I should phone you?”

“Sure.”

“Are you still - interested?”

“Of course.”

“Okay.” And she hung up, and rang the doorbell.

“I’m ready,” she said when he answered the door. “I’m ready this time. Honest.”

Kristoff put his hands in his pockets and looked her up and down. “If you say so. Come in, then.”

Anna went through and shut the door behind her. She kicked off her shoes and, determined, walked straight through to the bedroom. Kristoff followed her, his hands still in his pockets, an expression of mild amusement on her face. Anna sat on the edge of the bed and looked up at him. “Come on, then.”

He sat next to her. “Why the sudden enthusiasm?”

“Just - you know.”

“Do I?”

“Want to get it over with.”

“That’s extremely flattering, thank you.”

“Don’t you want to?”

He didn’t answer her. Instead, he looked her up and down in a way that made her blush; then he cupped the side of her face with his hand, stroked his thumb over her cheek, and kissed her.

She was a bit more used to kissing him, this time. It felt more natural, and she could relax into it and enjoy it. After a few minutes, Kristoff pulled away and climbed up properly onto the bed; he held out an arm to her and she followed, then let him gently pull her down until they were lying facing, his arm around her. He kissed her again.

It was nice. He was so warm, and solid, and while he certainly wasn’t holding her down, his hand against her back was almost comforting, almost safe, and she didn’t want anything else but to be lying here kissing him. She wriggled closer.

Kristoff slid his hand down her back and stroked her bottom over her jeans for a minute, then he moved it back up again and slipped it under her t-shirt. The warmth against her bare skin made her shiver pleasantly, and after a second he moved his hand still higher and brought it round to the front.

Then three things happened, one after the other. Kristoff ran his thumb inside her bra cup and over her nipple; Anna reflexively bucked her hips against his, and felt the hard ridge of his erection against her thigh; and she gasped and let out a moan against his mouth.

And it all felt so good but also it was too much, and her body had never wanted anything this badly, and as she realised that she gasped again but this time her reflexive movement was away from him. She pushed him away and sat up, still out of breath and her heart racing.

“Sorry,” Kristoff said. “Shit. Sorry, Anna.” He sat up and ran a hand over his hair.

“It’s okay. I’m sorry. I’ll be okay, just - just give me a minute.”

“Okay.” They sat in silence for a minute.

“Anna,” Kristoff said, “Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

“Okay. I know you’ve never actually had sex before, but - what have you done? I mean, you’ve kissed someone before, right?”

“Oh, yes, of course.”

“Okay, good.”

“I was with Henry two years! Of course we kissed.”

“That’s what I was thinking, right.”

“But not kissing like that, you know. With hands and things.”

“Really?”

“Yes, he was always - very respectful, you know.”

“Never went for the boob.”

“No! No.”

Kristoff looked thoughtful for a minute. “And you didn’t want him to?”

“I - I don’t know.”

He looked at her. Anna was looking down, twisting her hands together. Kristoff cleared his throat. “Tell you what,” he said, “I was about to make dinner. Would you like to join me?”

“What? Really?”

“Sure. Be nice to have some company.”

“Okay. Yes. Thank you.”

Kristoff stood and walked over to the door. “For what it’s worth,” he said, “I think you can be perfectly respectful and put your hand on someone’s…well, anywhere.”

-----

“So what do you do?” Anna asked, following him through to the kitchen. “Like, for a job.”

“I’m an electrician.”

“Oh, cool.”

“New builds, mainly.”

“Do you have all your certificates and stuff.”

“Well, I’m legally required to, so, yes. Come here.”

Anna had sat down at the table, but now she stood obediently and came over to the counter. Kristoff put a chopping board and knife down in front of her, then handed her an onion. She looked at him. “Chop it up,” he said. “Spag bol okay?”

“Oh, yes, lovely.”

Kristoff got out some pans and started taking things out of cupboards and the fridge. Anna looked at her onion. She didn’t want to admit to never having chopped an onion before. The brown skin needed to come off first, right? How hard could it be.

The doorbell rang. Kristoff looked puzzled, and went to open it; Anna listened to him having a conversation, then he came back through to the kitchen accompanied by a young woman. “...it’s in the big cupboard, I think,” he said. “Ah, Anna, this is Katja. My sister. Our mother wants to borrow a dish -” he opened the cupboard, rummaged for a moment, and pulled out a serving dish - “so she’s sent Kat. Kat, this is Anna.”

“Oh, goodness, I’m sorry, Kris!” Katja said. “If I’d known you had a date I’d have come another time.” She took the dish and hugged it, grinning at them both.

“It’s not -” Anna started, turning back to her onion, sure she was blushing. Kristoff had frozen with his mouth open. Katja flapped her free hand.

“Oh, well, whatever you call it - I’ll get out of your way, don’t worry.” She leant comfortably against the edge of the worktop. “It’s so nice to see, though, how long has it been since you’ve had a girlfriend, Kris? Or even been out with someone -”

“I don’t tell you everything I do,” he muttered, taking jars off the spice rack and lining them up. “I thought you were leaving?”

“Oh, I am. I am. How did you two meet?”

“Friend of a friend. Goodbye, Katja.”

“Mm. Well.” Katja sighed, stood upright and took one half-step to the door. “It was lovely meeting you, Anna! Perhaps we’ll all see you again sometime -“

Kristoff put one hand on her shoulder and gave her a gentle push back out to the hall. “Give my love to our mother, when you see her and discuss this two-minute encounter in extravagant detail.”

“Oh, Kris, why are you always so -” The door shut. Anna fiddled with the handle of her knife. Kristoff came back into the room. “Sorry,” he said. “She’s just, you know. My whole family is like that.”

“Friendly?”

“Don’t know when to shut up. Is that onion done?”

“Um, yes.” She pushed the chopping board towards him. The onion looked pretty mangled to her eyes, but he didn’t comment, just lifted the board and slid the pieces into the hot pan.

“And now she’ll go straight to Mum’s,” he continued, “And describe you and what we were doing, and they’ll talk about it all evening and have us married off by the time they part. They all refuse to believe that I’m quite happy living by myself. When I split up with Lindsey it broke my mother’s heart. She’s obsessed with me Finding Someone. An actual woman in my flat after 7pm will drive her into a frenzy.”

“It’s fine,” Anna said. “I don’t mind - I mean, if she does think it’s a date, it doesn’t matter, does it?”

“I suppose not.”

“You can always just say it didn’t work out or we split up or whatever.”

“Yeah.”

She watched him cook. He looked tense, and she couldn’t bear the silence. “How long have you been single?”

“You know Lindsey.”

“Yes, but - you haven’t had a girlfriend since then? But that was years ago!”

“Mmhmm.”

“Linds is married.”

“Sure is.”

Now he looked even tenser. “Well, I’m sure you’ll meet someone soon.”

“I’m not looking, but thanks.”

“Really? But -”

“Anna, leave it, okay? I’m no good at relationships, I’d rather just be - me.” He stirred the saucepan, his jaw set. “I know that’s what you want but not everyone is built for that.”

“You’ve done it before - okay, okay, I’m sorry,” she said at his expression. “It just sounds - lonely.”

“Not everyone is the falling-in-love type.”

“Of course they are, everyone can fall in love -”

He sighed. “Of course they aren’t. Look, I was very fond of Lindsey - don’t tell her I said this, because I said I loved her, but I never really knew what I was supposed to mean by that. I was very fond of her and I liked spending time with her and I enjoy sex. But I don’t do falling in love. That’s just how I am, you don’t need to try and persuade me.”

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

He turned back to his saucepans and apparently the conversation was over.

-----

hey kris

hey what’s up

you not busy? at home

yes and yes, why?

The doorbell rang. When Kristoff answered it, Anna was standing there with a determined expression on her face. “I really mean it this time,” she said. “Honest.”

He stood back and let her in, taking her coat. “You know the way,” he said. “On your back, knickers off.”

At Anna’s face, he added “That was a joke. Can I get you a drink, or...”

“I’m good. And I can’t take my knickers off, because I’m not wearing any.” She plumped down on the side of his bed and grinned at him.

“Was that a joke?”

“Why don’t you come here and find out.”

He stood watching her, arms folded.

“I worked it out,” she said. “I worked out what the problem was.”

“And?”

“Oh, god, usual stuff I guess.I felt bad. For liking it? Because I felt like I shouldn’t. Because I’m a, a nice girl.”

“I didn’t realise you were brought up in the 1950s.”

“I know, I know...but. Once I realised that was the problem, it stopped being a problem! You know?”

“I guess.”

“I mean it. It is the twenty-first century, I am a grown woman, I am allowed to enjoy this. I will enjoy it.” She fell onto her back, arms above her head. “Come here and deflower me.”

He didn’t say anything, and Anna was about to sit up and argue her case again; but then suddenly he was on the bed, right above her, holding himself up with his hands on either side of her shoulders. Her heart thumped alarmingly.

He held her gaze for a long moment, then flicked his eyes to her lips and back up again. She closed her eyes a second before he kissed her; a deep, intense kiss, that was only broken when he pulled back a fraction of a centimetre to murmur “Ready?” against her mouth.

Anna wasn’t sure she could speak and she only had space to give the tiniest nod. She kept her eyes closed as he kissed her, again and again, his body still hovering a centimetre above her own.

When he shifted his weight onto his side next to her she must have tensed up slightly, because he said quietly “We’re just having fun, okay?”

“Mmhmm,” she managed, as he kissed her neck.

“And if you’re not having fun, at any point,” he murmured right by her ear, “You just say and we’ll do something else. Okay?”

“Okay…”

He kissed her again, then leant back further to pull his t-shirt off over his head. It was the first time either of them had actually removed any clothing and Anna felt herself blushing - to cover it, she pulled off her own top, and threw it on the floor. Kristoff looked her up and down, and now she was definitely blushing.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said.

“I bet you say that to all the girls.”

He shrugged. “Only the ones that are beautiful. Now,” he said, hooking a thumb under the waistband of her jeans, “let’s see if you were telling the truth.”

She hesitated, expecting him to undo her trousers, but he didn’t. He just ran his thumb under the waistband, and when he didn’t find anything underneath, he grinned at her and pulled her closer to kiss her.

Kissing felt even better with her bare skin against his. She let him unclip her bra, and wriggled her arms out of the straps; then was surprised when he rolled away, but it was only to shed the rest of his clothes and rummage in his bedside drawer.

Anna watched him, not sure what she should be doing, not wanting to stare but at the same time not knowing where else to look. She shrugged her bra off completely, then remembered her socks and pulled them off as well. Kristoff found what he was looking for, put the condom down on the bedside table and shut the drawer. He smiled when he turned back to her.

“I hope you’ve at least had an orgasm before,” he said.

“Yes, but not - in company. And it’s okay, we can just….”

But he was already kissing her again, and flicking open the button of her jeans as he did so. Anna shivered, and he moved to draw her body against his, keeping her warm as he pushed her jeans over her hips. She wriggled and kicked the trousers off. She could feel his erection now, hot and hard against her thigh, and when he moved his hand to her breast she moaned loudly and involuntarily against his mouth.

He gently pushed on her shoulder until she was lying on her back. “Okay?” he said, and she nodded. “How about now?” he said, sliding his hand over her thigh and between her legs, “How’s that?”

“Good,” she managed. “That’s - um, a bit lower -“ Anna stopped - she was being rude, she shouldn’t correct him - but then he did move his fingers a little lower, and she gasped. Kristoff smiled. “Relax,” he said softly, “We’re having fun, remember?”

Anna tried to nod, but she couldn’t concentrate, couldn’t think of anything except his hand between her legs - his mouth now on her nipple, his tongue stroking - Relax, she told herself. She clutched at his shoulder, blindly, and he looked up. “Okay?” he said.

“Yes - yes, please, don’t stop -”

He didn’t, but he did move a little so that he could hold her at the same time. She buried her head in his shoulder, trying to muffle the sounds she knew she was making, and when she came he pulled her into a hug and kissed the top of her head as her breathing slowed.

Then he moved away, and she couldn’t think why, until she saw him reaching for the condom packet on the side. Oh, yes. That. She bit her lip.

He must have seen, because he said “We can stop now, if you want.”

“But that’s not fair.”

He shrugged.

“And anyway, I want to,” she added quickly. Because she did - and not just, any more, in the sense of wanting it to be done. She was curious, and also...she just wanted to. She didn’t need to analyse it. She settled herself comfortably on her back and reached out an arm to him.

He kissed her again, gently, and and she felt herself relaxing into it. She closed her eyes and wrapped an arm around his neck, and let him gently move her legs so that he could position himself above her. She kept her eyes closed as he carefully guided himself into her - and then stopped. “I’m okay,” she said firmly before he could ask, and he huffed a laugh and started to move again.

And it was - nice. It didn’t hurt, and it felt somehow satisfying, almost. Anna shifted her hips to get more comfortable and Kristoff groaned in her ear. “You’re amazing,” he muttered. “God, I’ve been thinking about this for so long, ever since I saw you -”

“Really?”

“Of course.” He paused, breathing heavily, and she felt him throbbing inside her. “I didn’t want to pressure you into coming back, after the first time, but god, I wanted you -”

He wrapped an arm around her then, and pressed his lips to hers, and she felt him thrust against her three, four more times. Then he broke the kiss to groan and bury his head in her neck, and she felt him throbbing deep inside her and realised that she liked it. She was suddenly fiercely glad she’d come back tonight and that she hadn’t given up.

After a moment Kristoff kissed her quickly on the lips, then gently withdrew and sat on the edge of the bed. Anna lay there, thoughtful, while he dealt with the condom. Did she feel any different? A little. Did she feel older, wiser, more mature? Not really.

“I guess….I should go,” she said, “Shouldn’t I.”

“Mmm.”

“I should get dressed.”

“If you don’t want to catch cold, yes.”

“But now I’m sleeeeeepy.” She pulled at the duvet underneath her. “I’ll just have a little nap.”

“Come on, Anna,” he said, standing up and reaching for his trousers.

He dressed quickly, said “I’ll let you get on,” and went out of the room. He was smiling, perfectly friendly, but Anna felt a little let down. She found her clothes and dressed.

When she went through into the hall, Kristoff came out of the living room. “You okay?” he said.

“Yes, sure.”

“Just thought we’d better get up before we fell asleep.”

“No, you’re right. I should be getting back before it gets too late.”

“Do you want me to walk you home?”

“No, I’m okay. It’s only half a mile, and it’s not late.”

She walked over to the door and opened it. “Bye, then.”

He smiled. “Bye, Anna.”

Kristoff shut the door behind her. Anna stood on the pavement for a moment, before giving herself a little shake and heading for home. Anyone watching would have seen me go in and then come out a while later, she thought. They wouldn’t know what happened. They wouldn’t know I’m a woman now. Then she had to laugh at herself for being so ridiculous. She didn’t look any different, or she didn’t think she did; she felt a tiny bit sore, maybe, but the fresh air was waking her up out of her post-coital sleepiness.

She took her phone out of her pocket and quickly typed a text. Definitely a proper job. Thx for your help x

He replied a few seconds later. No problem. Take care

And that was that, she supposed. Problem solved.

——-

Henry handed her a glass. “To us,” he said.

“To us,” Anna said, and sipped the champagne. She took another surreptitious glance at her left hand. The ring was as bright and sparkly as she could ever have imagined.

He’d already had the ring, when she came back and told him what she’d done. She didn’t tell him all the details, of course; she’d described it more as a brief fling, insisted that it had made her more certain of what she really wanted. And he’d already had the ring, ready.

It was strange, though, being back here with Henry. Part of her seemed to be looking at him with new eyes. This is what you’ve wanted for years, she told herself firmly. Be happy.

But suddenly she couldn’t think what to say. She drained her champagne flute instead.

“I’ve got work in the morning,” she said, “So I’d better get going soon.”

“You know you don’t need to worry about that,” Henry said. “Once we’re married you won’t need to work.”

“I know.”

“You could give it up now if you like. Move in here.”

“Really?”

“Yes, of course. You can have the blue room.” He smiled at her indulgently. “It has a lovely view. I’ll make sure you have everything you need, my darling.”

Anna opened her mouth to say something, then closed it again. Why wouldn’t she sleep in his bedroom? But obviously he didn’t want to, or he’d have suggested it. Surely when they were married…

Then she looked around the room, and noticed something she hadn’t before. There was no sofa, or anything resembling one. All the chairs were for one person only. Each person sitting by themself, individually, not touching. When was the last time Henry had touched her? She couldn’t remember. He hadn’t even put the ring on her finger - he’d waited until she took it from the box and put it on herself.

Henry cleared his throat, and Anna looked up. “Perhaps we should go there now,” he said, “And you can show me what you learnt - while we were apart.”

He leant down to kiss her, and Anna lifted her face to his obediently. She knew how to do this, now; she could do it. It was easy.

-----

ONE MONTH LATER

It was funny. When Kristoff had suggested meeting at that bar, she’d been pleased because it was just round the corner from her flat. But that meant, of course, that she found herself walking past it all the time, and it had started to give her - a little pang, almost. That had been fun, hadn’t it? The whole thing. And now it was irrevocably in the past. And the future was looking pretty bleak.

She’d worked late. It was half eight by the time Anna was walking along the road the bar was on, and as she was its door ahead of her it opened, and two people came out, chatting.

One of them was Kristoff, and her heart leapt into her throat. And the other was a young woman, and her heart sank back down again into her boots.

You are number five. Will be number five. No pressure.

Anna stopped. And then started again, because she needed to walk down the road here, and it was silly to hide. What did it matter who he was with, and why? Maybe it was a friend. Maybe it was his sister - no, as the couple walked under a streetlight ahead of her she could see that it wasn’t Katja. Anna thought a bad word, and then told herself off.

She kept walking, steadily. Kristoff would turn right, here, to get to his flat, and she would keep walking straight on, and he wouldn’t even see her. She was concentrating so hard on this that she almost walked straight into him.

Kristoff and the woman he was with had stopped, for some reason, right by the bus stop. He saw her and said “Anna!” with a smile, and then she had to stop too, and say “Hi,” and this was so awkward. The last time he saw her, almost, she was naked in his bed.

“So this is Anna!” the other woman said, stepping sideways to hold her arm out into the road. “Hello!”

Kristoff rolled his eyes. “Yes. Anna, this is my sister, who I’m sure has heard all about you.”

Anna felt a brief surge of anger. She didn’t care who he was with, or why, she didn’t, but there was no need for him to lie. “I’ve met your sister,” she said.

“He has two. That was Katja, I’m Heidi. And here’s my bus! Lovely to meet you,”

“And you,” Anna said automatically. Heidi smiled at them both and boarded the bus. Anna and Kristoff stood in silence as it pulled away.

After a moment Kristoff coughed. “I heard you got engaged,” he said. “Congrats. That worked out, then, glad I could help.”

“Oh, no,” Anna said. “Well - yes, I did. But we broke up.”

“Really, already? I mean, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay - well, I’m mean it’s not okay, but it’s for the best. I realised - it wasn’t what I wanted. I tried, but - well. I gave him the ring back and everything. So, yeah.”

“I’m sorry.”

“The problem I have now is that I gave notice on my flat and the landlord found new tenants right away, and I have to move out in two days and all my stuff is in boxes and I’m going to be sleeping on my friend’s sofa and it’s not great but, you know. I’ll find somewhere new, I guess, though I’m not having much luck….I don’t know why I’m telling you this, I’m sorry…” She rubbed at her eyes, then looked up in surprise - Kristoff had put his hands on her shoulders, and she could feel the warmth of his hands even through her winter coat.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, but this time there was more sympathy in his voice. “It must be rough.”

He was standing so close. Anna wondered if, if she leant into him, he would hug her, and then realised with a shade of alarm that what she really wanted to do was kiss him.

“Um,” she said. “Maybe, if you’re not busy, we could go back to yours, and...or is it still a one-off…”

“A one-off. Sorry.”

“OK.” She sniffed. “Sure.”

“But if you want, we could - just hang out? Watch a film or something?”

“Really?”

“Sure.”

“I don’t want to impose…”

“I’m the one who offered.”

“Oh, so you did.”

They walked down the street together.

“You’ll find somewhere,” Kristoff said. “Somewhere even better, I bet.”

“Thanks. I hope so. It’s just, you know. And he didn’t even seem that bothered?” Anna added. “I was like, I’m really sorry Henry but I don’t think I can marry you, and he was all ‘oh okay fair enough, thanks for letting me know’.”

“Right decision, then.”

“Oh, I know it was the right decision...you know when something is just suddenly obviously the thing to do?”

“Sure.”

“Elsa always says - that’s my sister - she says I act without thinking but that’s not true, I just think quicker than her so I act quicker. But, maybe I shouldn’t have acted so quickly before, when I gave up my flat….oh, I don’t know. What’s done is done.”

“Can’t you live with your sister? Is she not local?”

Anna smiled. “She’s not local, no. She’s a microbiologist and she’s in Antarctica over the winter.”

“Antarctica? Really?”

“Uh-huh. Something to do with ice and bacteria and goodness knows what.”

“Wow.”

They’d reached Kristoff’s flat and he unlocked the door and let them in. “Have you eaten?” he said.

“Yeah, I had something at work. Why, are you going to cook for me again?”

“No. But you can make some toast if you want.”

“I’m good.”

Anna sat on the sofa. Suddenly she felt exhausted. Maybe she should just have gone home.

Kristoff say down next to her and picked up the remotes. “What do you want to watch?”

“Don’t care.”

He gave her a look, then pressed buttons until he’d selected the film they’d been watching before. “You missed most of it,” he said.

“I guess so.”

The film started. All Anna could think about was when they’d watched it before, when she’d been full of anticipation. When she’d been looking forward, to getting what she wanted out of life, to love and marriage and happiness. Now she didn’t have anything. Or anyone.

Her mood must have shown on her face, because Kristoff lifted his arm and waited for her to move underneath it. He was such a good hugger.

“It’ll work out,” he said quietly. “Things generally do.” Anna sighed and snuggled up further against his chest. Kristoff lifted his hand and gently stroked her hair.

“S’funny,” Anna said into his jumper.

“What is?”

“I had it all wrong. I thought being in love with someone would be - like this. Warm and safe and comfortable and not having to - perform, all the time. But it wasn’t. I was wrong. Kristoff?”

His hand had stopped moving on her hair, and when she looked up he was staring at the ceiling. After a second he blinked and focussed on her again. “Nothing,” he said. “I think - these things can be complicated. You don’t always feel the way you’d expect to.”

“Maybe the person I am now is different from the person I was two years ago, and we want different things.”

“Sure, probably.”

“Or maybe I was wrong all along.”

Kristoff said nothing, just started stroking her hair again. When Anna also stayed silent he said her name softly, and realised she had fallen asleep.

[TO BE CONTINUED]

#kristanna #fanfic #fanfiction #sara #you get the banner again because you get it every year #actually remembered to save it in my tumblr folder this year so maybe next time I won't have to go searching for it

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the-fandom-newsletter · 6 years

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Fandom Newsletter #4

Today is Friday, the 26th of October, and Welcome back to another Fandom Newsletter!

Writers: Atlas, Blackpurrl, Fyne, YoursTruly Editors: Fyne and YoursTruly

“Oh my God, Karen! You can’t just ask people why they’re white.” ~Mean Girls

Let’s get started!

First to YoursTruly with the Horror, Hannibal, Tim Burton, Animation, and Gaming fandoms--

Horror: Horror fans love the new Halloween movie! The movie has been a massive success among fans young and old! The movie gives off a nostalgic vibe, even referencing the older movies several times throughout the film. However, if you’re going to see this movie, stay until after the credits, there’s a little surprise at the end.

Hannibal: The Fannibals have began trying to bargain with show runner and producer Bryan Fuller for another season. The show left off on a not so satisfying conclusion, and many fans want more. Bryan Fuller has even teased the idea himself quite a few times. Will we get another season one day? Guess we’ll have to wait and see.

Tim Burton: Disney is offering, throughout the month of October, Halloween themed cruises. They even offer an onboard show featuring Jack Skellington and Sally. And you can even meet these characters for pictures! Now that’s a cruise! Also- The Nightmare Before Christmas celebrates its 25th anniversary this year!

YouTube: YouTube recently crashed worldwide for two hours. YouTube hasn’t said much about the incident, but problems like this are becoming more and more common on YouTube. Many people are wondering what the causes of these issues are.

Animation: Goretober is in full swing! Many animators have been uploading their daily Goretober art.

Gaming: The season of scary game releases is upon us! October is the month where many creators on platforms like Steam and Gamejolt are releasing their horror games in anticipation for Halloween.

Now to Blackpurrl with the Harry Potter and Bands fandoms, along with World News--

Harry Potter: Countdown to Fantastic Beasts: 27 days!

Bands: Did you know, about twelve hours of songs are uploaded to SoundCloud every minute? Insane!

World News: Denmark Shooting for the Digital Stars

Next to Fyne with the Sherlock, Supernatural, and Spooptober fandoms, as well as the weekly positive news--

Sherlock - Ever wonder how our beloved show even came to be? Apparently, for years, writers Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss took a train to and from Cardiff while working on Doctor Who, and discussed various projects they were interested in doing. One that kept coming up repeatedly was a modern-day adaptation of Sherlock Holmes. This reportedly went on for some time (with neither man making any particular effort to get it up and going) until Moffat’s wife, Sue, invited both men out for lunch. Her place of choice just so happened to be the Criterion, a watering hole and eatery in London’s Piccadilly Circus. It just so happens to be the same place where the fictional John Watson (Sherlock’s best friend) first hears of the famed detective. The two men got the hint and began working on the series, bringing us our show that we have today. I think we all owe Sue a little bit of a thank you, don’t you?

Supernatural - Did you notice that (according to Archangel Michael in the episode The Song Remains the Same) Dean and Sam come from the bloodline of Cain and Abel? So is this important? Or is this just another coincidence?

Spooptober - This year is the year that Halloween movie Hocus Pocus reaches its 25th anniversary. The premise of the movie is this: After moving to Salem, Massachusetts, teenager Max Dennison explores an abandoned house with his sister Dani and their new friend, Allison. After dismissing a story Allison says is superstitious, Max accidentally frees a coven of evil witches who used to live in the house. Now, with the help of a magical cat, the kids must steal the witches' book of spells to stop them from becoming immortal.A family favorite movie that almost everyone has seen and that is playing on at least one channel nearly every night of October. If you haven’t seen this iconic movie, you definitely should go channel surfing at some point this month.

Positive News - The words we use to talk about mental health can perpetuate stigmas. A new portrait project featuring people who have mental health issues aims to make us think again about the language we choose.

Lastly to Atlas with the Voltron, Musicals, and Movie fandoms--

Voltron: This fandom is a ticking time bomb set for December 14th. We are all going to die.

Musicals: George Salazar ships Boyf-riends!

Movies: Who else wants a live action Corpse Bride?

Now back to Blackpurrl with the weekly movie review--

Movie Review: Hannibal Rising

This movie relays the story of Hannibal Lecter’s childhood. Although most of the especially gory parts are not on camera, the viewer eventually knows exactly what became of the victim. It provides an interesting plot, and explains why the famous cannibal does what he does. I would not recommend this movie to anyone under thirteen or anyone who cannot handle tragic stories. Overall, I’d give it a 10/10.

And back to Fyne with the weekly trivia fact and quiz--

Trivia Fact - Did you know that the inventor of liquid soap became paralyzed after he slipped in the shower?

Are you an optimist, a pessimist, or a realist?

1. You fail a test. What is your reaction?

A. I'm stupid. I’m going to fail my exams.

B. This was just a blip. I’ll do better next time.

C. The questions were too hard. This is where my abilities stand.

2. You have quit smoking, but you accidentally have a cigarette. Which of the following is your reaction?

A. You have been set back, so you just go right back into the addiction.

B. You have been set back, but you believe you can quit again.

C. You have been set back, so you come up with ways to avoid similar circumstances that led you to the set back.

3. You are shown a picture of a man who isn’t smiling. What do you think this man is feeling/doing?

A. The man is plotting, rude, or experiencing something unpleasant.

B. The man is relaxing, thinking, or did not have enough time to smile.

C. The man is posing for the picture.

4. A close friend of yours sets you up on a blind date. How do you feel about this?

A. You have no clue what your date is like and you are afraid they’re going to set you up with a complete loser.

B. You have faith in their opinion and want to see for yourself what your date is going to be like.

C. You decide to see what your date is like and decide for yourself how well your friend did.

5. You’re a business owner who goes bankrupt. How do you proceed?

A. You see this failure as a sign that you are not meant to be in this business and pursue other options.

B. You see this failure as a lesson and use it to help you further your business in future reference.

C. You see this failure as a sign and choose to make plans to pull yourself out of bankruptcy.

6. You get a raise. How do you feel about it?

A. You don’t understand why you got the raise and you wonder if there is an ulterior motive.

B. You accept the raise happily, glad that your hard work has finally been recognized.

C. Yay! More money!

7. You’re an accountant and today you made a mistake with a number. What is your reaction?

A. You figure out where you went wrong, and then feel horrible about it for a long time afterward, questioning your abilities and worthiness as an accountant.

B. You figure out where you went wrong, fix it, and move forward.

C. You recognize the mistake and move on.

8. You have a bad day. Which of these is you after the day is over?

A. You believe that your life has been full of hardship and negative experiences.

B. You see the bad days as part of your life that help you grow or benefit you in some way.

C. Recognize that you had a bad day, and resolve to try again tomorrow.

9. You are struggling with groceries and someone comes to help you. How do you respond?

A. You become suspicious, tell them that you have nothing to give them, and maybe even yell at them to leave you alone.

B. You thank them and talk about their day or ask them about themselves.

C. You politely say thank you and either accept or decline their help.

10. You go on a vacation. Which of these is you?

A. Complain about everything you do and could potentially do, and eventually wind up not wanting to do anything at all but watch TV in the hotel room.

B. You want to experience as much as the location has to offer, even though you had no plans about what to do.

C. You enjoy the vacation and plan extensively about what you want to do and when.

Mostly A’s: You appear to be a pessimist. Always seeing the bad and negative in everything probably isn’t helping you be any happier or lead a happier life. Try and maybe appreciate things more often.

Mostly B’s: You appear to be an optimist. Always seeing the good and positive is probably helping you be fairly happy, and even leading to a happier life style. Though try not to be too optimistic all the time because it may end up hurting you in the long run.

Mostly C’s: You appear to be a realist. I guess you’re sort of a neutral character. Good for you.

(This isn’t physiologically proven, its literally just a test I made up in my free time so don’t take the results to heart and please do not be offended)

And finally, back to YoursTruly with the weekly book review--

Book Review- The Life Of P.T. Barnum is a fantastic book for anyone who loves a good biography. The book is a wildly entertaining autobiography by P.T. Barnum about his own life, starting from his childhood and following him through all his adventures. All in all, a fantastic book. 10/10

Wish our illustrator and writer Blackpurrl a happy birthday today! Comic is brought to you by our very talented artist, Blackpurrl. That’s all for this week, we’ll see you next week with another Fandom Newsletter!

Signing off,

Atlas, Blackpurrl, Fyne, and YoursTruly

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mdeeks15 · 3 years

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Given I am relinquished from my vow of silence. I can now pose a hypothetical. You have Person A and Person B. While in a relationship, these two do not subscribe to society’s default monogamist programming. Person A and Person B both date people together, both triads failing due to an inability on the third parties to provide enough care in the relationship. This causes tension between Person A and Person B as Person A pushed for the third parties to be in the relationship. However this passes as a blip

Person B starts talking to people and meets Person C. They inform Person A that they are talking to someone but neglect to inform them of any actual details (most likely due to medical issues on Person B’s part) leading Person A to believe they are talking to someone else. Things develop quite quickly and they go from a talking phase to the sharing of intimate photos in the space of two weeks. While Person B informs Person A and asks if it’s okay, they do not do so until after the fact, leaving Person A feeling like they don’t have a choice but to agree

Things culminate on Person A’s birthday, which Person B has forgotten. In an attempt to patch things up Person B offers to call Person A but spends the call talking about how they’ve made plans to go around to Person C’s house. The plan involves going round after dark which not only flies in the face of the arrangement Person A and Person B have (which is to meet prospective partners together, in the day and at somewhere public) but also Covid19 lockdown rules which have been thrown in the face of Person A since lockdown began

It is at this point that Person A starts to display their discomfort. With the plan involving a late start and the possibility of staying over for the night and Persons B and C’s talking history, a hookup seems entirely likely. Person B tries to frame it as merely a social call with the possibility of a hookup. Person A asks for things to be clearly defined but Person B says it’s not possible. Aware that the plan would most likely go ahead with or without their blessing and to avoid fighting ruining an already shitty birthday, Person A concedes and allows to meet up to go ahead

The day of the meet up arrives and as expected, a hookup occurs and Person B spends the night. Person A goes to work and comes back to a message asking to stay another night as Person C’s child has imprinted on them and they have already told the child they can stay over. It is around this time that Person C’s name is actually revealed Once again feeling pressured into an answer, Person A agrees to the second night. The next morning, Person B wakes up to leave Person C roughly the same time as Person A goes to work. However, Person B waits until Person A is off shift to decide to go for a nap, leaving Person A who had a rough shift to deal with it

Person A finally connects with Person C and warns them not to hurt Person B. Person C (tbh quite rightfully) tells them to calm their shit. This is the first (and last) time the two ever speak. Having heard that Person A had a rough time and being in the area anyway, Person B offers to meet up. After a seemingly decent meet up (albeit ending with Person A falling ill), Person B reveals that they would like to cut down they amount of time they see Person A. While their original schedule of twice a week was always impossible, Person B wished to meet once a month. Person A, having spent the better part of a year in lockdown and so unable to see their partner, naturally freaks at this ideal

In saying that they wish to cut down on meeting people, Person B mentions that they are unable to deal with seeing people. However evidence point them only being unable to deal with Person A. The two compromise on seeing each other twice a month, work or coursework providing. Person A is still slightly upset about the situation but the two make up. Being upset, however, brings all the issues of the relationship to the forefront, leaving Person A to decide that they are no longer comfortable with Person B and C’s relationship

Person A conveys their discomfort at this relationship, asking Person B to pull back on activities until they can sort through Person A’s emotions to get them okay with the situation. Person B reacts with hostility, calling Person A’s reason bullshit and unreasonable and accusing them of being manipulative and controlling. Person A fights back, telling Person B that things changed and that the whole point of consent was to be given and taken as necessary. Person B refuses, effectively breaking Person A’s consent and by definition, cheating on them

Person A continues to argue with Person B, and eventually decides to talk to someone who has more experience in these kinds of dynamics and comes to the conclusion that there must be some kind of separation. Person A calls Person B and informs them of the break. However, being unable to sleep and having to spend the day answering questions from their family about their relationship, Person A suffers a breakdown and messages Person B apologising for their behaviour before passing out

Person B accuses Person A of trying to manipulate them through previous relationship trauma and decides that the break would continue in that Persons A and B would be strictly platonic while Person B decides whether Person A is worthy of being in a relationship with. Person A agrees. The break continues to the original end date, but Person B decides to extend it further. Eventually they agree to rejoin the relationship but still continues to treat Person A like they’re deciding and continuing to see Person C

While Person A initially accepts these conditions, they quickly grow tired of things not changing and regains their stance of not being okay with the sexual relationship between Person B and Person C. Eventually this leads to an ultimatum where either the sexual relationship with Person C goes, or Person A does. Person B chooses to stay with Person A and eventually realises that they didn’t inform Person A of anything. Person B grows upset as Person C very quickly replaces them with someone who they choose to initiate a real relationship with, despite telling Person B that they don’t engage in that kind relationship

Person C eventually ‘dumps’ Person B for acting too much like a significant other. This sends Person B into a depressive spiral. Despite having their own feelings on the matter, Person A tried to help Person B feel better, eventually footing the bill for Person B’s therapy. Slowly but surely, though not without arguments, things begin to improve

While in this upwards stage, Person A tried to find their own separate partner in order to engage in their new relationship dynamic. After a few failed talking stages, Person A eventually matches with someone we’ll call Person D. Person D looks attractive and is quite fun to talk to. While on holiday with Person B, Person A decides to invite Person D to meet up. They arrange to do so in town and in the afternoon. Person A also invites Person B, if only to soothe their nerves regarding the whole situation

Eventually Person A, Person B, and Person D meet up. Person A missed out as Person D isn’t quite the same in person, a common thread in online dating I’m sure. However, Person B and Person D hit it off, and both agree that there is a likelihood they would date. Having no issue other than wishing their attraction to Person D remained, Person A gives the two their blessing and they eventually begin dating.

Shortly into this, Person A gets a casual message from Person B that they were engaging in activities that Person B had both agreed to give a heads up on if the conversation started and heavily stressed that the conversation wouldn’t start in the first place. Upset by what felt like a repeat of recent history, Person A pointed these facts out and Person B apologised. All was well until the next time that Person A and Person B met up, where Person B wasn’t wearing a necklace of great importance to the two’s relationship, but instead was wearing a gift from Person D. Person B also pushed Person A away while they were hugging

On top of this, plans for university visits were scuppered when one of Person B’s flatmates decided not to let Person A in. Despite most agreeing that the rule was unfair, Person B refused to say so on the basis that they would lose their right to veto anyone entering the building. Upset with the growing lack of care once again appearing in the relationship, Person A attempted to end the relationship but failed when they didn’t really want to, opting instead to try and meet with Person B to resolve their position before Person B left for university

While a conversation was had, Person B chose to pull away from Person A during an attempted kiss. Similar reactions were shown the next time they met and the time after, which coincided with Person A’s graduation and the last time the two were due to see each other before Person B left. Having arranged a meet up at a hotel for an overnight stay, Person A arrived in the hope that things could be settled but instead was told that Person B was acting the way they were as they were scared of Person A’s behaviour- behaviour that only occurred due to the way they were being treated

The bad mood was only compound by Person B having to go as there was a potential boiler leak and due to their room being closest, Person B had to leave. This combined with revelations caused Person A to suffer a second breakdown. After not hearing from Person B for the majority of following day, Person A continued to find their relationship degrading and decided to push Person B towards what appeared to be their intended solution which was to break up. Which they did. The end

So I guess my only question is, who sucked more? Person A or Person B

#tw vent #tw relationship trauma #tw cheating #this is a big one so I apologise

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rhi3915 · 6 years

Text

All Mine

Ok so you can thank the Litty Titty Committee™ for this blurb. This all spawned from us discussing this gif

and how it just screams “come sit on my lap.” You can also thank @buddyhollyscurls because without her, I probably wouldn’t have gotten anywhere on this fic and just given up, or waited a year to finally get the courage to post it. Alright without further ado, here ya go!

You needed a plus one for your best friend’s birthday. She was going all out this year. Normally you wouldn’t mind going stag, but your ex had unintentionally been invited. Due to these unfortunate events, you really needed to show him that you’ve moved on and that he was just a blip on your radar. Who better to invite than Harry? The two of you have been friends for years, and your ex was very aware of him. Unbeknownst to your ex, you and Harry had recently decided to become friends with benefits. It all started about a week after your ex left you. He gave you no explanation. Hell, he didn’t even have the balls to tell you. He just packed up his stuff and left. When you finally put the pieces together that he wasn’t coming back, you found yourself crying on Harry’s doorstep. He had no clue why you were upset, but he of course welcomed you with open arms willing to listen to why you were upset whenever you were ready to talk about it.

Harry had always been in love with you, but he never expressed his feelings because you never seemed interested. The boys you brought home were never anything like him. So once Harry found out what this prick did to you, the wheels slowly started turning in his head. He was ready to tell you how he felt, but could never find the right words. Finally a week after your break up, Harry found the courage to speak up.

“We need ta talk.” He blurted awkwardly.

“What’s up, H?” You asked quizzically.

As soon as he saw the look on your face, his brain shut down. He had no clue what to say any more. His rehearsed speech violently thrown out the window. The next thing he knew, his lips were on yours and it was like some other being had overtaken his body.

Although you moaned when he deepened the kiss, you hesitantly pulled away.

“Harry, I... I just got out of a relationship. I know I don’t love him anymore, especially after what he put me through, but I’m still trying to get over this heartbreak.” The slowly dissolving smile on his face made you continue, “it’s not that I don’t want you or want to be with you, I just feel like I couldn’t give you my all right now and you deserve so much more than just a fraction of my love and attention.”

This made him look up hopefully to you. Prompting him to finally speak, “So yeh do ‘ave feelings for me?”

“Always have, probably always will.” You spilled.

This caused the gears in Harry’s head to once again start turning. “Well how about this, love? Why don’t we try this whole friends with benefits thing people seem to be keen on? No emotions, no attachments, just being there for each other and making one another feel good,” he rambled on, “and then one day, when we both have everything sorted and if we both still feel the same way, we can take this to the next level. Whenever you’re ready. It’ll always be up to you.”

The offer on the table seemed pretty enticing. You really needed to get over the asshat who hurt you so deeply. And what better way to get over him by getting under someone else? You’ve always fancied Harry, but always thought you weren’t his type. Hearing him broadcast his feelings to you was the wake up call you needed. Here was the man of your dreams, willing to give you what you wanted with no strings attached until you were finally ready to make a commitment to him. It was ideal. How could you say no?

Three months later, and your friends with benefits arrangement was going better than ever. Harry could still see it in your eyes every now and again that your heart was still shattered. He knew you were slowly piecing it back together and he played a big role in that, but it seriously angered him that a man could ever hurt you so deeply that just little, obsolete things could trigger a memory and throw you six steps backward in your journey of moving on.

So when Harry realized that your ex was going to be at the party, he gladly accepted the plus one offer without hesitation. He wanted this man to suffer as much, if not more, than what you had. He wanted your ex to know that he no longer had any kind of hold over your heart, so Harry was more than willing to help twist the metaphorical knife in your ex’s heart (if he even had one).

It was about an hour and a half before the party. Harry had just finished getting ready, and walked into the bathroom to see you zipping up your dress.

“Holy fuck,” he whispered as he took in your figure.

You were wearing a tight, strapless, black lace dress. The hem stopping midway up your thigh, and just enough cleavage to tastefully show off your assets.

You turn to Harry with a smirk, “I take it you like what you see?”

Harry can only nod his head as he comes up to you, grabbing at your hips. He slides his hands to your backside and slowly starts to rake his hands up and down the swell of your ass.

“Yeh know, you an’ this dress are gonna be the death of me.” He growls, voice rough and full of want.

“Well as long as you don’t croak until after the party, it’s fine by me.” You bite back cheekily.

He takes that as his cue to start sucking the skin on your neck, right below your ear next to the beginning of your jawbone. As soon as you let out a moan Harry moves his hands back down to the underside of your thighs, lifting you onto the bathroom sink. Just as you wrap your legs around his waist, the alarm on your phone goes off. You let out a huff because you know it’s time to head to the party.

The pout on his face slightly amuses you. This man really has the most beautiful expressions on his face no matter the emotion it conveys.

“We gotta go, babe.” The two of you had just recently started using pet names. It was never discussed, but both of you really seem to like the special terms of endearment saved specifically for the two of you.

Harry’s pout from before slowly starts to dissolve as a thought comes to his mind. “Yeh not gettin’ off tha’ easy, pet. This party may be a lil’ bit of a stalling point but once it’s over and we come back home, I’m gonna ‘ave yeh screamin’ me name.”

That statement alone already had your panties soaked, and you thought that if he was gonna play dirty than so were you. So you give him the sweetest smile you can manage and slowly state, “We’ll see about that. Might just have you begging before the party’s even halfway over.”

To add to your threat, you seductively slink out of the bathroom giving him a show. The chuckle that rings out of his throat can be heard throughout your entire apartment. Harry shakes his head, spewing his thoughts out loud, “tha’ woman truly has no idea how much she does to me,” as he slowly follows you out of the apartment.

***

The party’s been in full force for a good hour now. You’d swear your best friend had watched one too many episodes of “My Super Sweet Sixteen” as a teenager, and it was slowly starting to deep out of her subconscious into her twenties. You giggle at how extravagant the party is, knowing your best friend is the most extra person you’ve ever met, but you wouldn’t change her for the world.

Harry finally comes back from getting you a drink. If the two of you bump into your ex tonight, neither one of you wants to be sober. As he hands you the apple martini you requested, you thank him and decide to commence your teasing operation. You slowly start to slide your hand up and down his chest. Thanks to the pink button down he’s wearing under his black suit and the top four buttons left undone, you have easy access. After a few moments, you’re able to realize that your teasing is doing the trick. You can slowly start to feel Harry grow hard as your thigh brushes across the crotch of his pants.

Smirking into your drink, you pull away heading to the dance floor. You hear him trailing behind you. When you reach the spot you were eyeing in the center of the floor, you abruptly come to a halt. Harry’s front colliding into your backside.

Due to the loud music, he yells into your ear just loud enough for you to hear, “Know what yeh tryin’ ta do, angel. S’not gonna work.”

Deciding to prove his statement wrong you start grinding your hips into him. Feeling his package getting thicker by the minute.

Slowly turning you around with his hands on your hips, he positions you to where one knee is between the both of your legs as he aids you in continuing the previous grinding. You’re starting to lose your will power, and decide to give in.

“Let’s go home. Now, H.” You whine into his ear.

“Guess yeh just couldn’t do without me.” He smirks, tugging on your hand leading you out of the party.

Just as the two of you reach the front doors to leave, your ex is arriving to the party walking straight up to you. Harry notices how your grip on his hand gets tighter. He instinctively lets go of your hand, protectively moving it around your waist to pull you in closer to him.

“Well, well, well, I should’ve known the two of you would be fucking around.” Your ex spits out, keeping his eyes on Harry’s.

Harry is just about to lash out at him, but stills once he hears you speak up. “Look asshole, what Harry and I do in bed and out of bed is no longer a concern of yours. You clearly had no feelings for me when you up and left me with no explanation, so you have absolutely no right to get jealous or make snide comments toward us.” You had no idea where this confidence came from, but you weren’t about to dim the fire in you now, “Oh, and since you’re so interested in our love life, I’ll let you in on a little secret. Unlike you, Harry actually knows how to please me in bed. Maybe one day you’ll learn how to make a woman scream your name out in pleasure, like he consistently causes me to do.”

And with that you grabbed Harry’s hand and stormed off to his car. You let out a huge sigh of relief, not realizing until now that telling your ex off was exactly what you needed to move on with Harry. You now knew for sure you wanted to take things to the next level.

Once Harry got in the car, he just sat there. It startled you, so you turned to figure out what was taking so long. The pressure between your thighs aching for relief that only he could provide.

As soon as you were about to ask him what the hold up was he started speaking, “Not tha’ I wasn’t completely turned on by what yeh said back there, but um what the hell was tha’?” He asked quizzically, no judgement in his eyes. He just wanted answers.

“H, I didn’t realize it until just a few moments ago, but that’s exactly what I needed to get over him. I just had to tell him to fuck off, and destroy any ounce of hope he had that I was miserable. I realized as soon as I saw him that I was over the bullshit he put me through. I have no feelings for him anymore. Not even hatred because if I hated him, that’d mean I still cared. I literally feel indifferent towards him.” You went to cup your hands over Harry’s cheeks as you continued, “The only man I have any kind of feelings for is sitting right in front of me. You remember when you said that when I was ready for more that you’d be ready for more?” You asked and he lightly shook his head, “Well I’m ready for all of it, H. All of you.”

His eyes bolted up to yours, asking for verification. As soon as you shook your head yes, his lips were on yours. “You’re gonna be screaming me name so much and quite loudly tonight that the entire neighborhood is gonna know tha’ yeh belong ta me.” He stated once he broke from the kiss.

Your thighs tightened to relieve the pressure building up inside of you as he started the car and sped back to your apartment.

***

Harry let you know that he’d be waiting in the bedroom for you as you stated that you needed to freshen up before the two of you enjoyed your first night as an official couple together. You had recently bought some lingerie in hopes of picking your spirits up, and now seemed like the perfect time to put it to good use. You pulled on your mint green lace, crotchless teddy. Your teddy took the shape of a monokini, but was mostly see through with no barrier to hide the heat and wetness radiating from your soaking cunt. You touched up your hair and wiped a bit of your eyeliner off that had smudged. Once you were content with your appearance you stepped out of the bathroom.

Harry was scrolling through his phone as he patiently waited for you. When he didn’t notice you walk into the room, you cleared your throat to command his attention. His jaw dropped as soon as you came into his field of vision.

“Damn baby. I have no idea what I did to deserve yeh, but fuck am I glad yeh mine.” His voice gravelly as he made his confession.

You had tilted your head down to hide the rosiness creeping up your cheeks. Once you finally looked back up, Harry spoke. “C’mere, love” as he gently patted his thigh.

You were starting to get a little nervous realizing the full weight of the situation. You and Harry were finally going to be completely intimate. All feelings in tact. He noticed your hesitation so he pleaded a bit more. “Don’t be shy, petal. Daddy’s not gonna bite...”

Your eyes darted quickly to his, his words sending electrical currents throughout your entire body. He gave you a slight smirk, and finished off his thought, “...unless yeh want me to.”

That was it. You were done for. Your eyes were raging with lust, and you needed him more than you needed air. You crossed the room approaching him as quickly as possible. As soon as you reached him you were straddling his thigh, sitting comfortably on top of the tiger tattoo. Being that the teddy you were wearing was crotchless, you and Harry both could feel the heat radiating off of your cunt. It all became too much for you to just sit still, and you slowly found yourself grinding against his thigh.

“Yeh so fuckin’ wet fo’ me, pet,” he groaned out his pleasure. “Don’t stop. Wanna feel yeh cum all over me leg.”

His words sent you over the edge. You picked up speed, quickly grinding harder onto his meaty thigh. Your breathing started to pick up, as his began to hitch. Finally, you screamed out in pleasure reaching your high. You lightly dropped your head onto Harry’s chest as you tried to come down from your high.

As soon as he could tell your breathing pattern was back to normal he grunted in your ear, “Bed. Now.” You shook your head as an answer, too blissed out to respond or move in that moment. So Harry stood up with your legs wrapped around his torso, and walked you to the bed. He positioned you back against the bed, spreading your legs out to make room to insert himself between your thighs.

“Told yeh you’d be screamin’ me name tonight, and this is only the beginning. Hope yeh ready to wake the neighbors, angel.” He smirked as he positioned his cock at your entrance.

He slowly inserted himself into you. Occasionally he’d slow, waiting for you to adjust to the pressure and give consent when you were ready for more. After a few gentle thrusts and confirmation that you were ready for more Harry pulled out and rammed back into you, earning him some of the dirtiest moans to ever leave your mouth. He mercilessly kept this pace up as you screamed out in pleasure. You tried to wrap your legs around his body, so he could get deeper into you but it just wasn’t enough. Harry knew that, and without a word he moved your ankles up over his shoulders continuing with the agonizingly wonderful thrusts, finally reaching that spongy, celestial area.

“Yeh so tight, love. Don’t know how much longer I can last.” He warned. You were close, but not close enough when he was due to explode his load inside of you at any moment.

You nodded to him that you understood, and you quickly moved your hand down to your clit. You rubbed harsh, quick circles over the area as Harry continued ramming into your core.

“Fuck, babe. I need yeh to come now.” He said as he licked his lips watching you touch yourself as he fucked relentlessly into you. Those words alone had your walls spasming around his cock. As soon as he heard your screams, he started unraveling as well shooting ropes of cum into your pussy. Harry came so much that the sticky white substance started spilling down your legs as he slowed his movements and gently rocked back and forth into you as you were both coming down from your highs.

He eventually pulled out of you and got up, running into the bathroom to grab a cloth to clean you up. As he ran the washcloth gently over your sensitive area he spoke. “Hope yeh enjoyed Round One, pet.”

“Most definitely.” You replied, breathless. Your curiosity slowly started to get the best of you as you asked, “What do I have to look forward to for Round Two?”

Harry’s eyes grew dark and the ever growing smirk was plastered on his face as he answered, “Well for Round Two, I’m gonna bend yeh over the kitchen counter and fuck yeh into oblivion. Then fo’ Round Three, I’m gonna eat yeh out in the shower. And fo’ Rounds Four through Six, well I’m just gonna leave those as a surprise.”

“Fuuuuuck me.” You said exasperatedly as your thighs quivered. You knew this was gonna be a long, but most pleasurable night.

“Oh I intend to.” He states with a devilish grin, as he lifts you over his shoulder, carrying you to the kitchen. He gives your ass a nice slap on the way there, while you reward him with the most boner inducing yelp you could unintentionally manage. “All mine.” He states as he grabs your ass again for good measure. All you can do is blissfully smile because you’ve been craving to hear those words from him for longer than you can remember. This was turning out to be one of the best nights of your life, and you most certainly couldn’t wait to top this night over and over again.

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles smut #let me know if you liked it #im an attention hoe

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