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wazzupmrstark · 3 years

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instead of you [part seventeen]

pairing: [best friend’s brother] tom holland x college!reader

summary: you didn’t expect to spend your summer pretending to be your best friend’s girlfriend- then again, you didn’t expect to fall for your best friend’s brother, either.

warnings: swearing, mentions of alcohol +sex

word count: 1.5k

series masterlist

The flight from Naples to Tokyo took fourteen hours, not including the two and a half hour layover in Istanbul, meaning you had sixteen and a half hours to sit in awkward tension-filled silence next to Sam. The tension was one-sided, of course, but it was still agonizing to endure.

You had been able to push your anxiety aside during your last day in Italy because it had been so busy. There had been a power outage in the middle of the night, causing everyone to oversleep and miss the ferry for one of your tours that morning. It had been a scramble to get back on schedule and do as much as possible with the time you had left. The boys had been hungover and their parents were tired of wrangling them. You had dozens of photos on your camera roll of Sam and Harry bickering when they were supposed to be posing for a nice picture, and even more of Tom flicking them off.

But now you were stuck alone with your thoughts, unable to use distraction as a means to escape. You tried reading your book, but found yourself unable to concentrate on the words on the page. After staring at the same paragraph for over fifteen minutes Sam noticed and asked if you were okay and you finally decided to call it quits.

You almost wished the Hollands hadn’t scheduled in a day and a half to adjust to the time zone change. You’d rather exhaust yourself with the nonstop tourist bullshit than have to cope with the reality that you had gotten off to thoughts about your best friend’s brother. Not to mention living with the secret that the same best friend’s brother had kissed you not long before that.

If Sam noticed anything was off, he didn’t mention it. He probably chalked it up to lack of sleep, or perhaps was too tired himself to care.

“Which one of us do you think will be randomly selected in customs today?” Harry asked, stretching his arms above his head.

You were standing in the aisle waiting to deplane, placing bets on who’d get searched by border agents this time. Somehow each time you traveled to a new place one of you was always chosen to get pat down or have your carry-on searched. Tom had yet to be the lucky winner, and you suspected it had something to do with his celebrity status.

“Y/n,” Tom answered easily. “She has the U.S. passport.”

You rolled your eyes. “Like England has a squeaky clean record with Japan.”

“At least we didn’t-”

“Bro, you can’t say the b word on a plane,” Harry interrupted.

“Even when the plane’s on the ground?”

Sam shrugged. “Better safe than sorry.”

“Whatever,” Tom continued. “It’s definitely going to be y/n.”

“Would you mind stepping out of line, ma’am?”

You sighed, not even bothering to look back at the boys. You already knew they were grinning like idiots and you didn’t want to give them the satisfaction. The agent ushered you to the side behind a glass partition, but not before you heard another agent repeat the same question to one of the Hollands. You smiled to yourself, happy not to be the only one singled out.

Behind the privacy screen another agent greeted you and asked you to take your sweatshirt off, explaining that it was too baggy and needed to be checked. You saw other people in baggy clothes who weren’t getting pulled out of line, but assumed they didn’t have the red flag of “U.S. Citizen” printed on their identification that would be cause for any additional suspicion. You complied with the agent’s request and pulled your sweatshirt off for them to further inspect.

You were glad you’d worn a sports bra underneath your sweatshirt because you usually didn’t wear anything underneath them. As soon as your head was out of the pullover you immediately met by Tom’s polite smile.

He averted his eyes as soon as he saw you, pausing his conversation with the official to mumble a quiet ‘sorry’ to you as he was shown to the spot next to yours.

You zoned out as they spoke, only aware of him again when he started unbuckling his belt. You caught his eye this time.

“Forgot to take it off,” he explained.

“Sweatshirt’s too loose.”

You both faced forward as the customs officials proceeded through the motions. You were stuck standing there half-naked with your arms wrapped around your chest self-consciously while an agent pat Tom’s legs down.

“Dad said we can meet them at baggage claim,” Tom said after a few moments of silence between the two of you. “They went on without us.”

“Okay,” you squeaked back in response.

You knew it wouldn’t take long, but it still made you nervous to be alone with Tom. Sam was like a safety blanket, or a buffer between you and him and without him you were afraid it would be painfully awkward.

The woman handed you your sweatshirt back and you had to wait for Tom outside of the screening area. He joined you a minute or so later.

“They find any dirt on you?” you asked from where you were leaning against the wall across from the exit.

“Nope, you?”

“Yeah, actually I’m in custody right now. Can’t believe you missed the handcuffs.”

“Man, what’d they get you for?”

“Identity theft,” you sighed.

“Damn, that’s a bummer,” Tom replied, false sympathy rolling off his words.

He cocked his head in the direction the rest of his family had went, indicating that you should get going, and held out a hand to pull you upright. You took it hesitantly and let him help you.

“I was actually hoping you could bail me out?” you went on, continuing with the bit.

Tom made a sound through his teeth and grimaced. “I’m kinda broke right now.”

“Aren’t you an actor?”

“Sorry, but I think you have me confused with someone else.”

“No, you’re definitely the guy!”

“You’re thinking of Tom Hiddleston,” he insisted.

“Remember that IOU you gave me? I’m cashing it in now.”

“That’s not how it works!”

You laughed. “No, but if I ever actually get arrested I’m using my IOU to get you to bail me out of jail.”

“I don’t think that a kiss and getting bailed out of prison are comparable, but I didn’t put any conditions on that postcard, did I?”

“Nope!” You smiled happily.

“Well that’s on me, so...”

You took the shuttle together to the other side of the airport where the rest of the Hollands were waiting and finally found them with all of your luggage at the furthest carousel from the entrance.

“It’s about time!” Harry yelled over the crowd as soon as he saw you.

Sam grinned when he saw you and you couldn’t help but grin back. He wrapped an arm around you instinctively and you relaxed into his shoulder, relieved to be with him again. It hadn’t dawned on you until that moment just how attached you were, but you didn’t have time to dwell on it because the other Hollands were all looking at you expectantly.

“Did everything go okay?” Nikki asked.

Tom nodded. “They made y/n strip, but it was uneventful otherwise.”

You pursed your lips, cheeks burning. “It was just my sweatshirt!” you hissed to Sam.

“Yeah, but you never wear anything under your sweatshirts!” Sam hissed back.

“I had a bra on this time.”

“Oh, so it was just another night at the bar for you?” You wrestled yourself out of Sam’s grasp at that and glared. “Am I wrong?”

Sam’s dad cut in before you could respond. He had a habit of calling “family meetings” in the middle of public spaces to finalize plans and get everybody on the same page, which was always an experience.

“Alright, gather up, gang!” he said, beckoning you all closer. “So we’ll be staying at... this hotel,” he explained and turned his phone around to show you the name of it. “And the thing is, we have two rooms to share between the six of us. One for your mother and I, and another for you four.”

“What?” Sam asked. “You’re going to make us stay with them?”

“I thought we were getting three rooms like every other time,” Tom chimed in.

“We were meant to, but I made a mistake when booking it,” Dom clarified.

“How?”

“The entire website was in Japanese, Sam. I don’t know Japanese!”

“Dad, Google has a translate webpage option!” Harry groaned.

“Well no one told me that while I was booking this entire trip by myself!”

You traded a look with Tom, who looked just as panicked as you felt. But it would only be for a week. You would find a way to manage. You didn’t really have any other option.

“I’m sure it’ll be fun,” Sam tried, forcing a smile.

“That’s the spirit!” Dom cheered. “We’ll make it work.”

sorry she’s short this week :( but lmk what you think i always appreciate feedback!!

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#instead of you #iou #tom holland series #tom holland x reader #tom holland x bi!reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n

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nothoughtsonlynat · 3 years

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Human (Natasha Romanoff)

Human: Chapter 1

A/N: Troyes, France is 6 hours ahead of NYC so 7pm there is 1pm in NYC. For the sake of this fic we’re going to pretend that the Battle of New York lasted quite a few hours.

*This is my first ever fic and I wrote it at 3am so bear with me

WARNINGS: swearing; mentions of weapons; violence; panic attack; anxiety; my crappy writing; and I think that’s it (lmk if there’s anything I should add)

Barcelona, Spain; January, 2012:

The repetitive ticking of the clock registered in my brain before my eyes even opened. I didn’t need that clock to know what time it was, of course. It was 4:30 am— the same time I've woken up everyday for the past twenty-five years of my life. I no longer need to wake up this early, yet it’s a habit so deeply engrained in my framework that it’s seemingly unbreakable. I roll out of bed and make my way into the dingy kitchen with light footsteps. With some quick math I figured that I got barely two hours of sleep last night, but that’s more than usual. I started the coffee machine and asked with a sigh, “Would you like some coffee or are you just going to lurk in the corner?”

The leather-clad stranger with an eyepatch stepped up to the kitchen island opposite of me and responded, “I wouldn’t mind a cup. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised that you knew I was here.”

“Well, you know what they say about old habits. You got a name?”

“You can call me Fury. We have a lot to talk about, Eight.” I slid him a mug of cheap coffee and gestured for him to take a seat.

“Then we’d better get started so you can get the hell out of my apartment.” He simply chuckled in response and I could already feel my patience wavering.

Two Hours Later:

“Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division? Really, dude?”

“Yeah, it’s a mouthful. Trust me I know.”

“I’m sorry that you came all this way for nothing, Fury, but there’s no way in hell I'm working for some government spy circus.”

“It’s technically an extra-governmental spy agency-“

“Doesn’t matter. I’m not joining,” I said, cutting him off.

“So, you’re just gonna hop from one shitty apartment to the next until you die? That doesn’t seem like a great life.”

“Better than the one I lived before.”

“You aren’t the person to live in hiding. You’re the person who thrives in the action and lives to kick ass, and we both know it.” When I didn’t respond he continued, “I’ll leave you my card. When you change your mind, which you will, you’ll know where to find me. You don’t have to be the bad guy anymore, Eight.” With that he slid off the stool and left my apartment, leaving me with nothing but my rapidly spiraling thoughts and a black business card.

Troyes, France; May, 2012:

It had been four months since Director Fury came to my apartment in Barcelona. We’d kept in contact and he hasn’t given up on me joining S.H.I.E.L.D.. I'm living in my third apartment since then. Wow…those landlords must really hate me. I was watching the seven o’clock news when I saw something that made me choke on my Cheerios. “An alien invasion?! What the fu-” My Cheerio-muffled exclamation was interrupted by the ring of my burner phone. “Hello?”

“Eight, you watched the news recently?”

“Uh yeah, I'm watching it now. You fighting aliens now, Nicky?”

“Okay first of all, I told you to stop calling me that. Second, yes… aliens. I’m forming a team of…extraordinary people to help protect against these threats and they could really use a hand to finish off this fight.”

“I may be weird as hell but I ain't ‘extraordinary’, Fury. I don’t wanna join your band of misfits.”

“Alright, how about a compromise? You fly your fancy jet here right now and help them out and if you still don’t wanna join once the battle is over, you can go right back to France and I’ll stop bothering you about joining.” After a few seconds of silence I agreed.

“Fine, but I’m not gonna change my mind. Wait, how do you know about my jet?”

He gave a hearty laugh and said “I know everything, Eight. You should know that by now.”

New York, New York; 96 Minutes Later:

I flew my jet into the city, making sure to take out a few flying Chitauri in the process. We don’t need to talk about how I got my hands on a German jet that can fly 2100mph. I saw a few interesting characters standing in a circle fighting off an endless sea of aliens. I maneuvered the jet and— wait…is that guy wearing blue tights? Is this what Fury meant by extraordinary? Whatever. I landed in the street about 20 yards away and killed the engines. I hopped out and started jogging towards the group. A couple of them turned around, probably wondering who the hell the chick in the black uniform is and— whoa that’s a beautiful woman. After realizing my steps had literally faltered in a mini gay panic, I slowed to a walk and said “Y’all need a hand?”

“Depends on whose hand it is,” replied the redheaded source of my panic.

“I’m a friend of Fury’s. He practically begged me to come save your asses.”

“Fury doesn’t beg,” she said in a doubtful tone.

“Not typically, but I'm just that awesome. If you don’t believe me then call him up but I’m gonna go kill some aliens.” With that I took off down another street where there was a group of the repulsive bastards. After unloading all of my magazines into Chitauri bodies, I switched to my swords and daggers. After another hour or so of fighting, there were no more aliens in sight. I started jogging toward the rich dude’s tower when I saw said rich dude falling through the rapidly-closing portal. I stopped next to Mr. Blue Tights and the buff blonde guy with the hammer when the big green dude grabbed Mr. Rich Dude from the sky and landed next to us. The green guy yelled, waking Mr. Rich Dude up with a start. “What the hell? What happened? Please tell me nobody kissed me. Except for her, she’s pretty hot,” he said nodding toward me. Just then the redhead jogged over to us and eyed my blood-soaked form from head to toe.

“See something you like, Red?”

“No. I’m pretty sure I'd be classified as a sadist if I liked the sight of that much blood,” she said with a raise of her eyebrow.

“Yeah that’s fair.” She shook her head at me with a small smirk. There was barely a second of silence when Mr. Rich Dude spoke up.

“Anybody want shawarma?”

Three Hours Later:

I had gone to the Triskelion after the band of misfits apprehended Loki. Agent Hill showed me where to park my jet and directed me to a room so I could shower and stay the night if I wanted to. I had put on black jeans, a white tee, and a black jean jacket, all of which had been in a to-go bag in my jet. I was toweling off my hair when someone knocked on the door. I opened the door to see none other than the one-eyed-wonder standing there. “What can I do for you, Nicky?”

“The Avengers are being debriefed in Conference Room 6B in ten minutes. You should come.”

“The Avengers? Is that what you’re calling them? That’s cute. But I'm not an Avenger and I don’t want to be an Avenger, so no thanks.”

“You should come anyway.”

“I don’t actually have a choice, do I?”

“You know me so well, Eight,” he said with an amused grin.

I walked into the conference room and the Avengers were already there. Steve Rogers, Clint Barton, Tony Stark, Bruce Banner, Thor, and Natasha Romanoff—whose names I learned from Hill— were scattered around a large table, along with Fury. Romanoff eyed me from where she was standing and arched a perfectly sculpted eyebrow at me. I squinted my eyes and wiggled my eyebrows in response, and I could see her stifle a laugh. “What’s your name?” She accompanied the question with a blank expression, which made me feel oh-so-special.

“That’s a very personal question, Miss Romanoff. Let’s slow the pace, please.”

“You know my name but I can’t know yours? That doesn’t seem fair.”

“The world isn’t fair, Miss Romanoff, and I love a good mystery.”

“If you two are done flirting, we have business to attend to,” interjected Fury.

“Right, my apologies, Nicky.”

“Don’t call me that, Eight.”

After an excruciating 43 minutes and 27 seconds, Fury finally let us leave. I was so close to freedom when that unbelievably sexy voice called to me. “Eight!” Romanoff hastily walked towards me in an effort to catch up.

“Yeah?”

“Is your name actually Eight?”

“If you want it to be.”

“Why are you so damn stubborn?”

“It amuses me, Red.” There was a brief silence during which both of us were trying to figure out if the conversation was over.

I was about to leave when she continued, “So that’s it? You’re just gonna leave?”

“Well, no. I’m going to stay the night, steal some really expensive jet fuel, and then leave in the morning before Fury can get up my ass about joining his little team.”

She rolled her eyes and responded, “Why won’t you join the Avengers? And why won’t you tell me your real name?”

“It’s just not my style. I’d rather fly solo.”

“You ignored my second question.”

“Then maybe you should take the hint and stop asking.” With that I turned around and started walking away, but a hand on my arm stopped me dead in my tracks. Alarms started going off in my head, and I'm pretty sure Romanoff was saying something to me but I was too caught up in the memories of beatings, punishments, and psychological conditioning to register it. After a few of the longest seconds of my life, the white of my vision cleared up and the voice telling me ‘physical contact is strictly forbidden’ faded into the background. My heart was still hammering in my chest and I was trying to keep my breathing steady despite the inevitable panic attack trying to drag me under, I regained my neutral expression and said. “Sorry, did you say something?”

“Are you okay?” She had a concerned expression and if I wasn’t so blinded with anxiety, I would’ve appreciated how cute the furrow of her eyebrows was.

“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just gonna turn in. It’s been a long day.” I turned around and walked back to my temporary room at a brutal pace. As soon as the door closed behind me, hot tears raced down my cheeks and I lost the ability to breathe. It was gonna be a long night.

3:21 am:

I finally managed to calm myself down and stop the panic attack after almost four hours. Well, I passed out because I couldn’t breathe but it did calm me down. Trying to sleep would be pointless, so I decided to leave before anyone woke up. I didn’t really have much to pack so I grabbed my duffel bag and left the room. I made it to the corridor attached to the landing pads and ran into the one person I really didn’t want to see. “What are you doing out and about, Red?”

“I’ve got places to be and things to do. Were you just going to sneak out in the middle of the night like a teenager with a rebellious streak?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I’m doing, actually. Do you need a ride? Where are you going?”

“Madrid. Fury said I could hitch a ride on another plane that’s headed for Germany.”

“Well I’m going to France if you wanna ride with me. My jet will get you there a lot faster.” She studied me for what felt like way too long, probably debating if I would try to kill her or not. You know how spies are with their trust issues.

“What the hell, why not?”

And that is how I ended up in a jet with “Candy Shop” playing over the speakers and Natasha Romanoff in the copilot seat yelling at me to, and I quote, ‘slow the fuck down.’ “Why would I slow down, you psycho?! That’s the whole damn point of this thing!”

“Where did you even get a German jet this fast?”

“Germany.”

“No shit Sherlock. How did you get it?”

“I went to Germany, stopped in at the local speedy-jet dealership, and walked out with this beauty.”

“Sarcasm is a defense mechanism, you know? You’re only being like this to keep me from seeing the real you. You built walls. You want everyone to think you’re fine when in reality, you’re falling apart.”

“Okay…um…there was no need for that, Dr. Romanoff. I can find my own therapist, thank you very much. And don’t go pretending you’re all healthy in the head, Miss Assassin.” It was quiet for all of five seconds before we both burst into laughter.

Madrid, Spain:

I landed the jet at the local S.H.I.E.L.D. base and killed the engines. Romanoff and I removed our headsets and I stood to help her get her bags. “Welp, I’ll see you around I guess.” I really wasn’t good at this type of thing. Or any social interactions, really. Twenty-four years in a cell will do that to you.

“Will I? See you around, I mean?”

“Um, I don’t really know, honestly. I’m not part of S.H.I.E.L.D. so we won’t just run into each other or anything but…”

“Why won’t you join S.H.I.E.L.D.? I mean what else are you doing?”

“Ohhh, I see. You just love me so much that you don’t want me to leave. You’re gonna miss me so much-” I was cut off when she threw her backpack at my head. “Hey! You’re lucky I caught that! Freaking crazy woman.”

When our laughter died down she said, “Well I should probably go. Thank you for the ride.”

“Of course. Hitchhikers are always welcome aboard my beloved jet.” A small smile appeared on her face and she stepped forward to give me a hug but she must’ve seen my body go rigid because she stepped back. She might’ve said something but the voice in my head was too loud for me to understand her. I don’t know how long it was before I unfroze but when I did, she was gone. I walked to the front of the jet and started the journey to France.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #natasha romanoff #black widow #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff fluff

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sazc94 · 3 years

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Speak Now

Hello, I am back, with an unofficial entry into the lovely @msmarvelwrites 2k Challenge. This is heavily inspired by her challenge but, but I am also aware I am clogging up her mentions ;)

Speak now Pairs:

Steve x Reader, with brief mentions of Bucky x Reader and Historical Wanda x Reader cause its Pride Month :)

Words, around 6k.

Themes, suggestions of smut so 18+, lots of swearing, angst and heartbreak and some fluff.

Baby, I didn't say my vows So glad you were around When they said speak now

You looked in the mirror and took a deep breath. Today was the day you had been dreading for the last 8 months. Steve Rogers and Sharon Carter’s Wedding. Ignoring the pit in your stomach you smoothed your lilac chiffon dress down once more, before checking your make-up and French-braid updo one last time. You felt sick oh how could he be marrying her? Had you two genuinely meant that little to each other meaning it was that easy for him to marry her?

You felt the tears threatening to spring from your eyes and pinched your nose. The limo was almost here, and you didn’t have enough time to re-do your make up if you started crying now. Plus, you knew deep down if you started crying, you’d never make it to the wedding. As one of Steve's closest friends you knew you had to suck it up and be there at his big day.

Originally, he had tried to convince you to take up Sharon’s half-assed offer to be in her bridal party. You would much rather stick needles in your eyes. So, you apologised to Steve and Sharon (not that she cared or even listened) advising how you didn’t have the time free to commit to such a big thing. Steve had originally been upset looking crestfallen, his baby blue eyes pleading with you. You gave him a small smile before assuring him you would still be there for the wedding.

“Don’t worry about it Steve. I’ll be there on the big day. Would never dream of missing it, especially the opportunity to see Sam and Bucky in suits” you said ruefully. Steve didn’t skip over the fact you had called him Steve. You had always called him Stevie. Well. Up until he had announced his engagement to Sharon.

“Hey Dollface”, Bucky said kissing you on the cheek before opening the door to the car. “Hey Buck, Hey Sam, you two look delicious,” you said shooting them a playful wink. Sam mumbled a small thanks avoiding eye contact with you. Bucky however, took this an opportunity to move closer to you. His hand resting on your thigh. The four of you had been friends since college. That’s why you were riding in the limo with them to the church earlier than most.

The four of you had formed a strong friendship back then. Along with Wanda and Pietro Maximoff and Natasha Romanoff. Bucky and Steve had been childhood friends and you had met Sam at Freshman orientation where he had almost knocked you unconscious during his haste to catch a football.

You and Bucky had a complex history. He had liked you from the moment he had met you, however, you weren’t interested in him. To be fair, you hadn’t been romantically interested in any of the boys, instead, your interest had been caught by one of the red-haired females you were sharing off-campus accommodation with. It didn’t stop Bucky from trying to get you into his bed all through your freshman year though. He had eventually given up in the summer and had never brought it up again after realising his best pal Steve had a thing for you too.

“So, what do you say Y/N, after the wedding, you come back to my hotel and let me make you feel real fucking good again, just like I did all those months back”, Bucky whispered. His hot breath tickling your neck. You instantly felt yourself flush at the memory. Straightening up you removed Bucky’s hand. “Come on James, I told you. It was a one-time thing, never gonna happen again. The only hotel room I will be ending up in is mine”, you said. Determination filling your features.

From across the limo Sam snickered whilst Bucky sulked. “Sure Y/N we all know who’s hotel room you’re gonna end up in and it isn’t anyone in this limo’s” Sam smirked. You instantly felt yourself heat up with embarrassment at Sam’s call out. He was right though. Anytime things got rough for either of you, you and your college girlfriend Wanda always found a way into each other’s beds. You picked at bottom of your knee-length dress before sighing. “Actually, I’m fairly certain she and Vision are in a good place at the moment, and she is bringing him as her date. You examined your fresh manicure avoiding their eye’s.

After a quiet 15-minute ride the three of you arrived at the church. Bucky had been whispering sweet nothings in your ear the entire ride. Sam had ignored you up until you had gotten out the limo. Grabbing you by the elbow he pulled you to one side telling Bucky to go on in.

“Y’know Y/N I always thought it would be you up there with him today,” Sam said sympathy filling his eyes. “I know this day is hard for you. So just know after the wedding if you want to get out of here, I have your back and will cover for you”, Sam continued. His brown eyes boring into you. You felt that familiar lump form in your throat and instead of addressing it you threw your arms around Sam and buried your face in his chest.

“Thank you” you mumbled. You and Sam were great friends, but Sam very rarely showed you physical affection. However, at that moment he knew that the hug was grounding you, so he rested his chin on the top of your head squeezing you tight. Running his hands up and down your back in a reassuring measure.

You stayed like that for about 2 minutes, a few loose tears escaping, that was when you heard Steve and Bucky’s laughter coming down the hallway towards the churches front garden, where you were stood in an embrace with Sam. You stiffened before withdrawing from Sam’s embrace. You shot him a small sad smile, before shaking your head and running off before Steve had a chance to talk to you.

You knew he would tell you how much it meant to him that you were there. How he was so happy that despite all your history, how you had once again shown up for him. You just couldn’t face him. You had gone out of your way to avoid being alone with him for the past eight months. “Hey, Where’s Y/N rushing off too”? You heard Steve ask as you rushed off the nearby meadow.

Bucky and Sam were obviously a part of Steve's wedding party. Because of this, they were needed at the small church where the wedding was taking place an hour before guests were due to arrive. Steve had insisted on you riding to the church with Sam and Steve in the limo he was paying for. He refused to hear of you spending money on a cab to attend the big day. Especially not when there was plenty of room and you were on the way to the church. Eventually, you had agreed after Steve had worn you down. The goofy grin he had given you had simultaneously made your heart do a somersault and rip further in half.

It was warm summers day in Massachusetts and the little church really was the perfect venue. Well to you, and it definitely was for Steve but you knew that social standing meant more to Sharon, she had wanted the big fancy private venue which seated 500 plus guests in NYC as opposed to the quaint little church with a max capacity of 50.

The long grass tickled your ankles as you entered the meadow, your eyes were instantly drawn to the big oak tree with a rickety wooden swing hanging down. You had at least 40 minutes before you would need to head in. The wedding was in an hour, but you weren’t looking forward to the awkward encounter with Wanda that was waiting for you. The sun was beginning to blaze, and it was even midday. Deciding you had enough time; you undid your strappy beige sandals and ran towards the swing.

You sat on the rough wood, slightly warm from the heatwave MA was experiencing, the rope had frayed and aged but you didn’t care, the sun was fighting its way through the canopy of thick green leaves. You let out a deep breath before kicking your feet along the dried dirt. You leant your head back and closed your eyes, shutting the world out deciding to live in these tranquil moments.

Flashbacks.

You and Steve had been dancing around the sexual tension between the pair of you for the last 3 years. Neither one of you ever daring to make a move. Mostly because you and Wanda were either constantly fighting or fucking. Sometimes both. Okay, mostly doing both. Steve wasn’t much better, every few months he had a new girlfriend and then there were countless one night stands in between. However, it was your final year of college you and Wanda had decided to call it quits for a good 5 months ago.

You hadn’t planned on getting this drunk, originally Sam and Nat were coming over to your apartment for some drinks to check out your new place. But then Sam had asked to bring this girl he was dating Jane, and Steve had heard from Nat about the get-together, pleading with you the be included.

So that was how you had ended up drunk as a skunk belting out cheesy pop hits on your old PlayStation sing star. Natasha had left long ago, claiming she had a paper to write, Sam and Jane were snuggled closely on the small sofa.

“Come on Y/N sing You’re the one I want with me,” Steve said trying to pull you up from the floor. You whined and wriggled your wrist free-falling back on the cold laminate floor. The sudden movement made Steve lose balance as his feet had been on your toes.

“Stevie, now look what you did” you giggled as the blond hottie fell on the floor opposite you. “This never would have happened if you’d just agreed to sing with me Puppy” Steve replied pouting. Puppy. He called you that claiming you had the biggest puppy dog eyes and energy of a 6-month Puppy all the time.

“I told you, I don’t sing duets anymore jerkwad,” you said shuffling away from the blonde. Steve decided that he didn’t like this much and pouted. You let out a small involuntary giggle. This only seemed to upset Steve more, deepening his pout and raising his eyebrows, he let out an exasperated sigh.

The mixture of Steve’s adorable pout, the tension between you and the alcohol was too much and with that, you broke out into a fit of giggles rolling about on the floor. Your T-shirt etched up as you moved to try to quieten your giggles, showing flashes of your skin to Steve. Your giggles were intoxicating, mixed with the wafts of your favourite body spray, the way you screwed your eyes up when you laughed, and with the way your shirt was etching higher and higher, Something in Steve snapped.

In one swift movement he caught your wrists as you rolled over so you were on your back, pinning them above your head with one hand, his other holding your left leg in a bent position, Steve was on top of you using your leg to prop himself up so he wasn’t crushing you. Your eyes caught Steve’s baby blue eyes. You swallowed, unable to break the eye contact with Steve.

“Stevie”, you whispered uncertainly. With that, the daze Steve was in broke and he crushed his lips to yours. He tasted like beer mixed with the fruity makeshift cocktails you’d made when the beer ran out, his lips were slightly chapped.

His kiss started of hungry and frantic, you returned the kiss, drinking in all the sensations. The pressure on your wrists loosening as the kiss melted into a softer, gentler, more loving kiss. After a few moments, the kiss stopped and Steve drew back, You didn’t move, just as stunned as him.

You could see the blush slowly creeping over Steve's face, so you leant in, closing the small distance as Steve's face still awkwardly hovered inches above yours.

“I think we should kick Sam and Jane out” you whispered shooting him a sly smirk. Steve's blush deepened. He nodded his head and slowly drew back. Once standing he offered his hand to yours to help you up.

After Sam and Jane left you and Steve spent the entire night fucking each other senseless. It was the start of your 4-year relationship. You and Steve were practically inseparable for the rest of your time at college. You already were before that night, but after the kiss and the events that followed you two became insatiable for one another.

You were so caught up in your flashback that you didn’t hear Bucky calling your name. “Earth to Y/N,” he said waving his hand frantically in front of your face. You were so taken by surprise you couldn’t help but let out a small shriek, to which both you and Bucky burst out laughing. “Jesus H Christ, Bucky! You almost gave me a heart attack”. You said shooting him a toothy grin.

“Sorry Y/N, Steve sent me out here to look for you, he just missed you earlier, said he wants to speak to you and get a photo of the four of us,” Bucky said. You felt your heart squeeze, you couldn’t do it, you couldn’t talk to him before the ceremony, you just didn’t trust yourself. You didn’t realise it but you had started crying. Bucky caught it before you did. Pulling you up from the swing he enveloped you into a huge hug.

“Hey, hey, it's okay. Bucky’s got you. Don’t worry I’ll make up some lame excuse about you fixing your hair or makeup or something, don’t worry doll. Sam and I are gonna get you through this day and once the weddings done, we are going to get super drunk. It may be an open bar, but Sharon’s Daddy is paying for it”, Bucky said rubbing soothing circles on your back. Unable to speak or else the damn would completely burst you simply just nodded into Bucky’s chest.

Bucky stayed hugging you for about 5 minutes before heading back off into the church, you both knew that if Bucky stayed around too much longer, Sam or more likely, Steve would come looking for you both. As you watched Bucky jog off your phone buzzed.

Hey Babe, can’t wait to see you. Visions looking forward to it too, according to his sat Nav we should be arriving in 10 minutes. See you soon! Xx P.S I hope you’re wearing something sexy for me 😉– Wanda x

Of course it was Wanda, she didn’t need to sign of her text with her name. You still had each other’s telephone numbers. You dropped yourself onto the floor, not caring about the dried dirt around the tree. You knew this was going to mark your dress but with Wanda acting up now, you were well past the point of giving a flying fuck.

You leant your head back on the tree before uttering out a string of expletives. Attending your ex-boyfriend’s wedding was hard enough without your college girlfriend attending too. Wanda was happy (mostly) with Henry aka Vision (god what a pompous nickname). However, that never seemed to stop Wanda and you falling back into each other’s beds. Or Her sending texts like this whenever a group of you got together.

Flashback

“Steve, look at me, please. Say something. This isn’t something I’m choosing to do lightly”, you pleaded for Steve to look at you. Your Grandma in England was sick, she had been given a year, two max to live. Your mum hadn’t been around much for you growing up and your Grandma had practically raised you with her Son (your dad), you had chosen to go back to England to be closer to her during her final year.

“Stevie, please baby. This has nothing to do with you, or me, or us. It’s just the woman practically raised me and I want to be there for her. It will be a year, two max. You can always come visit, I’ll be over to visit, We can make this work. Just please say you want it to work”, you were practically begging by this point. Tears were falling down your cheeks and the man who held your heart in his hands and had the power to stop all the pain stood there at the opposite end of your shared apartment. With his back to you.

“What do you want me to say Y/N?!” Steve's voice came out in an accusing whisper. He still made no motions to turn to face you. “Of course you should be there for her during her final moments. But a year, maybe two? We have a life here, an apartment. I have friends here, Sharon, Sam, Bucky, and Thor. Hell, Nick even said I might even be up for a promotion in a month or two.”

You didn’t miss the fact that Sharon who had been eyeing up Steve since joining Fury’s Law firm 8 months ago was suddenly included in that list of friends. Steve was oblivious. But he wasn’t that oblivious. He knew mentioning her would hurt you. And he was right it did.

“You know what Stevie, I get that. That’s why I’m not asking you to come with me for the whole time, I’m just asking you to come over for two weeks whilst I get settled and then to do the long-distance thing for a while. But if your Friends and possible promotion are that important to you, Then forget it”. You grabbed your phone, the overnight bag you had packed and stormed out of the apartment.

You waited in the rain for 15 minutes, wishing for Steve to chase after you. He never did. So, you called Wanda and asked if she would mind lending you her sofa for the night. You had booked two tickets for a 6 am flight, believing that your precious Stevie would of course come with you to visit your family during this difficult time.

Spoiler alert, Steve didn’t show at the airport the next morning, he also spent the next 3 days avoiding your calls.

Eventually, Steve did apologise. But by then the cracks had formed and the damage had been done, after 5 months you called it quits. 4 Months Later Steve was dating Sharon Carter. You arranged with Wanda and Sam to mail back your key and have your belongings collected. Sam had offered to store them at his apartment in his spare room.

Your phone buzzing beside you pulled you from your flashback. “Natasha! No, I am here, I’ll meet you out the front of the church in a few moments.” You said before hanging up the phone. Showtime folks.

You stood, steadying yourself against the big oak tree before slipping your sandals back on one by one. You checked your reflection using the screen of your phone. Dusted the back of your dress down and plastered that well-known smile on your face before heading back over to the church.

As you approached you spotted the two familiar redheads, Natasha’s a deep red which blazed in the sun, whilst Wanda’s was a lighter shade which almost reflected the sun off of it. Also amongst the group of familiar faces were Pietro and Carol from college. Thor one of Steve's colleagues you liked him, his brother Loki who looked like he was about to melt in the sun, and of course the elusive but well renowned Nick Fury.

These weren’t the only familiar faces in the crowd. Sharon was one of the top socialites off New York, Reed Richards and his Wife Susan were in attendance, their two children were also here, Valeria and Franklin you had heard they were part of the wedding party.

Bucky and Sam appeared at the group shortly before you did, allowing you to slip in beside Nat and Thor. On the opposite side of the small circle like shape Wanda stood hanging off her partner Vision’s arms. She of course spotted you right away and broke through the group squealing your name with excitement.

“Y/N Baby, how are you? You look gorgeous in that dress if I may say so myself!” Wanda said pulling you into a hug and then kissing you on the corner of your mouth. Her lips the brushed against yours ever so slightly before she bounded back over to Vision.

Vision hadn’t missed her antics, but he like you had an unspoken agreement that when Wanda was in one of her giddy moods to just roll with it. He brought two fingers up to his head and half saluted/waved in acknowledgement of your presence. You smiled at him back. He was a good guy; it just didn’t help having their relationship shoved down your throat by Wanda every time you two spoke.

After a few minutes of catching up and posing for group shots with Sam and Bucky, everyone made their way inside. Sam and Bucky both shot you a reassuring smile before they headed of the end of the aisle.

“So Babe. Tell me what’s new? Any more saucy rendezvous with Bucky Barnes” Natasha asked as you all sat down on the pews. Somehow your plan to end up in the middle of the small pew did not work and you found yourself on the end of the pew closest to aisle. Oh well at least you were sat next to Natasha who in turn was sat next to Thor and then Nick. Wanda was sat on Separate pew behind you and was the opposite end of her pew. (one less ex to stress about)

“Nat” you hissed. “I told you, that was a one-time thing. Not even Sam knows. So, keep your mouth shut!”, you said rolling your eyes. Natasha was never one to take orders kindly, so she shifted around in her seat to talk to Thor and Nick.

Flashback:

“Sharon and I are engaged” Steve announced to the small group of you who had gathered at Bucky’s apartment. He made this announcement whilst avoiding eye contact with you (because of course he would). Nat and Sam jumped up to congratulate Steve. Bucky sat down next you with a cheerful grin. You felt your heart break, but you would be damned if golden boy wonder got to see that.

“Exciting news, aint it doll, you gonna be my date? I look mighty fine in a suit if you ask me” Bucky drawled. You looked up his ocean blue eyes and how they shined with such affection for you. You smiled at him before grabbing his beer and taking a long gulp. “Certainly is. Oh I don’t know Buck, I might ask Wanda or even Nat to be my date.” You replied shooting him a wink.

Bucky rolled his eyes, this was all part of the course with the pair of you two, he would flirt, you would joke back but never really return the favour.

After the five of you had all settled back down and congratulations had been shared, you checked your phone, half an hour had passed. Sufficient enough time to leave without making it look like you were leaving because of Steve’s announcement. Which of course you were. You grabbed your jacket from the back of your seat. Said your goodbyes to Bucky and Sam. Kissing them both on the cheek, Natasha had excused herself to make a call, so you would text her your apologies for missing her when you got home.

“Congratulations again Steve, I’m happy for you.” You said forcing yourself to sound sincere. The fact you had called him Steve and not Stevie hadn’t been missed by the three gentlemen at the table. Sam and Bucky shifted uncomfortably whilst Steve forced a small smile onto his lips.

You’d only been back in NYC for 3 months, so you were renting Sam’s spare room. You knew he wouldn’t be home for ages yet. No doubt he would stop of at Leila Taylor’s hotel room for the night as she was in town. So, when you heard a knock on the apartment’s front door 2 hours after leaving Bucky’s you were confused. None the less you opened the door. You expected it to be anyone but Steve.

“Steve!?” You tugged your robe around your body tighter. “What’s wrong? Is Sam okay?” You asked opening up the door inviting him in.

Steve shifted, his muscular frame feeling too big for your apartment. Avoiding your eyes he walked into the kitchen he helped himself to a beer he knew you and Sam stocked in the fridge. Steve was here often, especially for a regular Monday night boys night, recently you had been avoiding being in the apartment on a Monday night. Steve let out an exacerbated sigh and pushed one if his hands through his mess of blonde locks. Suddenly the tension between you cracked and Steve's usual happy demeanour clouded over.

“What the fuck is wrong with you Y/N?” Steve asked pointedly. “You’ve practically avoided me since you got back, I know you try and stay out late on Mondays, so you don’t have to face me. I tell you I’m getting married and you practically bolt out the door?!” his tone accusing.

“You left Y/N. You made the decision to go to England. You walked out the door that night” he said. The anger in his eyes and voice made you feel small. Steve had never been like this with you, never in all your years of friendship.

“You couldn’t even pretend to be happy for me Y/N?” Steve asked looking around utterly broken and wrecked. Finally, he lifted his eyes to meet yours. You stood there, tears in your eyes, arms wrapped around your body tight, you were trying to disappear. Where did Steve get off? Yes, you had left, but for Christ’s sake, Steve had practically pushed you out the door.

You felt all your resolve crack away. Fuck this he didn’t get to stand there and make you feel like the bad person. So, without a word. You walked over to Steven Grant Rogers and slapped him. Steve stood there shocked. You felt shame, anger, embarrassment, and most of all hurt, and with that your heart broke completely in half and you ran into your room sobbing.

Steve realised he had fucked up and ran after you, but you were too quick and shut the door on him locking him out. Steve sat outside your door pleading for you to let him apologise. You couldn’t hear him though, the sound of your blood pulsing in your ears and your heartbroken sobs drowning him out. Eventually you must have fallen asleep because when you woke up it was 2am and you were still in your clothes.

The next morning Sam had informed you that when he had returned Steve had been sat outside your bedroom door. He didn’t ask any questions but told you that Steve had asked if you would meet him at the Starbucks down the road for breakfast at 10. He also silently handed you a note.

You had met Steve that morning and accepted his apology, but your friendship would never be the same. Probably not helped by the fact that the night after Steve had announced his engagement, you went back round to Bucky’s with the intention of letting him fuck your brains out

Anticipation was building and you saw Sharon’s snotty family dressed in pastel, her mum made a mad rush along the side of the church pews, trying desperately not to get caught. It looked like one of the bridesmaids had left the bouquet behind. You couldn’t help but smirk. Certain that Sharon would be yelling at said bridesmaid somewhere in a back room. Such a shame how things always happen to the nicest of people you thought.

Natasha had stopped giving you the cold shoulder now and just as you and Thor were winding her up about her latest conquest the organ started playing. A hushed silence fell over the church, and everyone stood. The organ switched to the bridal march, all though to you it sounded like a death march.

Whilst everyone watched Sharon float down the aisle like the pageant queen she truly was. You let your gaze wander over to Steve. God he looked handsome in his tux. The black fabric stretched taught around his muscular frame. His usually deshelled blonde hair slicked back just slightly. You also let your gaze wander over to Bucky and Sam.

You couldn’t help but feel a stab of pride with the way they stood there in their sharp suits. Standing up straight and tall. Bucky’s usually loose long brown hair tied up into a neat man-bun. Sam’s presence could be felt from where you were sat a few pews from the back of the church. He always did know how to command a room. Just as you felt a small smile tug on your lips you flickered your gaze back to Steve. His eyes caught yours and your smile fell, and you felt that familiar ache in your chest once again.

The wedding started and everyone sat down, you fixed your gaze onto Bucky and Sam, not daring to let yourself look at Steve and his blushing bride. Everyone cooed about how beautiful she looked, and how handsome Steve was. Sharon’s family wiped away tears, you had blocked out the majority of what was being said focusing on the click of the cameras from the wedding photographers.

Then began the part you were really dreading. The Vow’s. Steve and Sharon exchanged vow’s nothing personal about them at all just the standard, I Steve rogers blah blah. You couldn’t help but feel your heart tighten a little when he slipped the ring on Sharon’s finger. The next few moments became a bit of a blur. Natasha had her hand on your leg in what was meant to be a comforting gesture.

However, it seemed to spur you on for when the Priest spoke the words: “Speak now, or forever hold your peace” you stood up with shaky hands. Everyone’s eyes turned to you. Oh fuck what were you doing?! You were about to feign a medical emergency when you caught Sam and Bucky smirking out of the corner your eye. Their nods so slight that you almost missed them.

You didn’t need to look at the faces around you to know most of them were horrified, you were certain a few of your friends were putting it on for show, revelling in the drama. However as your eyes caught Steve’s, a look of hope flickered across them.

“Don’t marry her Stevie”, you said your voice barley a whisper. You had never been one for being the centre of attention in big crowds. You could feel yourself getting flustered. “What, the fuck, did she say?” Sharon screeched. Steve didn’t seem to be listening though and his baby blue eyes never left yours.

Taking a deep breath you continued “Don’t marry her. I know this is selfish, but she doesn’t love you, not the way I do” You stepped out into the aisle. No matter the outcome of this sudden outburst you were going to want to make a quick exit. “Fuck Steve, outside of your status, I bet she doesn’t know the first thing about you deep down, not really, not like I do” “You love summer, but not because of your birthday being in July. No, you love how everyone seems to always be happier in the sun. You prefer Winter over spring or fall because you love the way the nights draw in making you feel cosey as you curl up with a book. You’d also never admit it, but you’d take a bullet for Both Sam and Bucky, if it meant they got the chance to be happy. And lastly, you love the smell of sunscreen over anything else, because it reminds you of simpler times at the beach with Bucky when you were both younger” you were rambling now, and you struggled to stop.

Everything stood still, Bucky and Sam were now grinning like idiots. Steve stood at the end of the aisle mouth agape and Sharon was just in full on meltdown mode. Sensing that you may have just made the biggest mistake of your entire life, you went to leave. Something stopped you, the urge to address Sharon.

“He gets stressed every year around the anniversary of when Bucky went missing for 4 days on a hike up a mountain.” You said spinning around to face her.

“He still blames himself even though he was found thanks to Steve. He shuts down, but if you wrap him in a blanket and play old movie’s he’ll start to open back up” the tears in your eyes were falling faster than you could dry them. You were so busy staring at her you didn’t see Steve stalk up the aisle towards you.

“One last” you turned to face Steve again, however you were cut of by the feeling of his warm lips crashing on to yours. His hands cupped your face. “Shut up Y/N” he said pulling away. He grabbed your wrist and took of rushing back up the aisle towards the exit dragging you behind him.

The church erupted into chaos as Sharon screamed for Steve to come back. Many talked about the disrespect and tutted. Bucky and Sam whooped and cheered; a few people clapped in that slow confused sort of way. It was all a blur as Steve moved quicker than he ever had in his entire life. You were still in a daze. You couldn’t quite believe you had interrupted a wedding.

Steve moved off to the side of the church his grip on your wrist tightening as he fumbled in his pocket, it was like he was looking for car keys. Suddenly he remembered where he was. What he was wearing and that he was in a tux and did not in-fact have keys on him. However, the limo he had paid for to bring you and Sam and Bucky to the wedding could be seen just down the lane from the church.

Steve turned to look at you, before shooting you a wink and he took of running, you nearly stumbled over your feet trying to keep up. The driver seemed a bit a taken a back as Steve opened the door and pulled you in behind him. You still couldn’t hear anything as your heart was beating out your chest so loud you were surprised Steve couldn’t hear it.

Steve rambled of an address to the driver of the limo, assuring him that he would still get paid for the unplanned journey. The limo set off and Steve settled into the seats pulling towards him so that you had no choice but to straddle him. Finally, your heart beat slowed enough for you to process everything, and with that you started crying again.

He was yours again, after all this time, after all the heartbreak and angst he had chosen you. You didn’t believe it, which is why you were crying, certain this was a daydream, and you would once again snap out of it and find yourself back in the church.

Steve pressed his head towards yours, pecking gentle kisses on your nose, cheeks, and forehead, as if he seemed to understand what you were thinking. He opened his mouth.

“Baby, I didn't say my vows, So glad you were around, When they said speak now”

#marvel x taylor swift #avengers fanfiction #avengers au #wanda x y/n #wanda x vision #platonic!bucky x y/n #steve rogers fanfiction #steve x female reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers fluff #Platonic!sam x reader #sam wilson #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes #steve angst #steve x reader #msmarvelwrites2k

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leiakang · 3 years

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hi! i’m lily, i’m 19 from england and this is a brand new muse that i’m really excited to play out here. if you want to plot, like this and i’ll come talk to you in your ims/disco!

I saw [LEIA KANG] at a coffee shop in [MANHATTAN] today. I forgot how much [SHE] looks like [SHIN DOHYUN]. They are a [TWENTY FOUR] year old [CEO OF KANG ENTERPRISES] who’s been in NYC for [ALL HER LIFE] now. Every time we run into each other, they are always [HONEST AND CREATIVE] but I’ve heard people say they can also be [IMPULSIVE AND ABRUPT]. [BRUTAL BY OLIVIA RODRIGO] reminds me of them every time it comes on the radio. — [lily, she/her, 19, gmt+1]

name: leia kang

korean name: sojung

gender: cis woman

pronouns: she/her

sign: capricorn

ethnicity: korean.

nationality: american

sexuality: bisexual (really doesn’t care)

family: kang yeonjung (mother), kang youngchul (father - deceased), kang zachary / kijung (older brother)

BACKSTORY

her name says it all. her father really liked star wars so leia came to be indeed her father’s princess. her parents came to new york city to expand their already very successful investment company that also dabbled in the music industry because they could. the kangs were millionnaires even before they took ownership of that penthouse suite on the new york skyline. within ten years they would be billionnaires.

leia had always been a charming girl up for some fun. she tried hard in school but was naturally distracted and so the leia, you could have done better speech came into existence. she got good grades, was above average and that was enough for her. she never felt the need to be pushing herself but maybe that was because she felt her privilege coming from a rich family. she was a people person and enjoyed conversing more than she loved doing essays.

she had her first big fight with her parents when she revealed she didn’t want to go to college. she hung around with manhattan’s elite but if she was being honest, she found them insufferable and would much rather just use her fake id to have some fun. it was a big deal and first but then her brother happened. he had ended up in the hospital after an accidental drug overdose.

one thing to get straight is that leia absolutely adores her big brother. he was the one that was always so encouraging to her to do what made her happy. for all she knew, he was her hero and was owning his life to the fullest. why didn’t she see that he was struggling? hindsight was a useful thing but leia hadn’t been told about her brother’s addiction and he had ended up in the hospital. she was absolutely blindsided and the attention was taken off of her and put on her brother who needed it more.

leia wasn’t particularly mad about it, he needed help. however, the lack of supervision gave her a boost to be crowned one of new york city’s most decorated party girls. she’d be the first one there and the first one to leave. she felt so free and with no real pressure from her parents to get a job or make something off herself, that’s where she would stay. it made her blind to the fights that her parents had, the fights they had while discussing the welfare of her brother and how he was constantly struggling.

by this point, leia had pushed him away. when their parents didn’t give him money, he came to her and a couple of times, she buckled and gave him what he wanted. she loved him, she wanted him to love her too, for things to go back to how they once were but every time he came back, stopped her in the street and made her swear not to tell their parents, her heart sank a little more until she couldn’t do it anymore. enough was enough and she refused to help him. they were both upset for different reasons, he vanished for two weeks and then ended up back in rehab.

kang youngchul died the day after her twenty fourth birthday, in the early hours of the morning while she was still celebrating, from a heart attack that no one could see coming. leia was drunk when she finally rang her mother back. she didn’t believe it at first ut when it set in, she wished she hadn’t celebrated so hard. it all felt like a dream when she woke up hungover but it was real and she had to feel everything all over again.

it was a surprise to everyone when youngchul left nearly all of his assets, including his 98% share in the kang enterprise company to leia. she knew her parents were having trouble but was never at home enough to register how bad it was (maybe purposefully). he had left a property to zach but he wasn’t there for the will reading because he was in rehab and her mother was very adament that he couldn’t break his stay.

the twenty four year old who has had no proper job is now in charge of kang enterprises, much to her mother’s bitterness. the woman is upset and she doesn’t know what to do. she has her brother living with her in her new manhattan skyline apartment but when he doesn’t come home for a few days, it worries her. leia is trying so hard to try manage everything, to step up seen as her father has trusted her. leia stopped partying and started trying to learn business, taking advice from people who now worked for her? it was weird for her and still is.

people in her age group recognise her as the former party girl of the upper east side and others, youngchul’s legacy that got nearly everything and gave nothing to his wife. leia is providing for her mother but she wonders how bad it must have been between them to write her out entirely. leia is trying her best but sometimes does find her impulsive side taking over just because she needs a break from the pressure.

#villageintro #death tw #addiction tw #drinking tw #alcohol tw #heart attack tw

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dragon-of-dreams · 4 years

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Pieces

My Masterlist

Part four to Cracking a Code; Previous Part

Pairing: dark!Steve Rogers x Reader (fem)

Warnings: Swearing, gaslighting, stalking, aftermath of noncon, noncon touching

Summary: The next day can’t be real, can it? Or where y/n goes into work and gets hit by a strong sense of deja vu.

Word count: 2k

A/n: I’m so sorry that this a) took so long and b) has so much plot not much else, but well I promise it’ll get creepier next chapter!

~*~

The next morning you woke before your alarm clock, which was good because it gave you time for the world’s longest and most thorough shower.

And was also terrible because you woke up and it was still real.

It happened.

The intensity with which you scrubbed down your body was straight out unhealthy and you only stopped when you realized how close you were to breaking skin. He’d hurt you, but you wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of hurting yourself over him. You were hurting enough as it was.

While that mindset stayed with you, you were also shaking the entire time it took you to put on clothes and get to the office. Leaving your apartment was harder than you had ever imagined it being. For the first time in your life, you could understand those people you sometimes saw on the television, who hadn’t left their homes in years. You’d give anything for a reprive of having to live what was now your daily life. You knew it wouldn’t end and hiding in your apartment sounded oh-so-appealing, if – in your case – completely useless.

You used the short elevator ride down to your apartment lobby for some breathing exercises, put on a smile for your doorman, and in front of the double doors leading out into the Brooklyn sunshine you froze.

You knew Steve wouldn’t be there to follow you around. No, he wouldn’t stoop that low. But then again, he didn’t have to. You were terrified as his words rang in your ears: Good thing I had Buck accompanying you home. As you stared out into the busy street before you, you knew without a doubt, in your heart, that Bucky Barnes, the fucking Winter Soldier, was out there waiting for you. Watching you. Never leaving you. You were fucked. There was no running away.

“Miss? Are you alright?” You turned your head to the porter approaching you from behind his desk where he kept guard over his proverbial sheep, unknowing that you’d been torn by the wolf already.

You forced a smile: “Yes, thank you, uh, “ your eyes flew to his name tag, “George. Work has been keeping me so busy lately I’m turning into the weird professor guy from the movies!” you laughed and George chuckled but eyed you worriedly. “I’ll see you later, Miss. Please take it easy at work today. Tell Mr. Stark to cut you some slack!” You smiled and nodded at him: “Will do. See you tonight” and with that, you pushed through the doors and the pit in your stomach. Out into the bustling life of New York City.

You didn’t look behind you as you briskly walked down the street to the subway, but you could feel Bucky’s eyes on you like the fog creeping in in early October. It was an all-consuming feeling, creeping in from the sea to swallow you whole.

But you kept your head up high. You weren’t a stranger to being afraid, to being bullied. You had been the smartest student in every class you had ever taken and men didn’t appreciate being beaten by a woman. You hadn’t backed down when you were a kid, you wouldn’t bow down now, not to Captain America and most certainly not to the Winter Soldier! You knew you were putting up a façade but if you didn’t you wouldn’t have made it out of bed this morning, maybe never have left it again, but that wasn’t you.

‘Oh yes, the times are changing and those boys better get with the program’, you thought grimly as you stepped into a subway car and crossed your arms, staring at the open doors, waiting for your shadow to make an appearance.

Bucky entered through the doors to your left. You almost missed him, but now that you knew you weren’t looking for blond and beefy but brunette and murdery it was a lot harder for him to play invisible. He was good, but you were better.

But by God was he confused when you approached him. “Good morning, Mr. Barnes. I don’t know what Steve told you about me, or what your involvement in all of this is, but here is what I am telling you: Fuck off. I don’t want to see you or him again, so make sure he gets the message?”

Before Bucky could reply you moved away from him and slumped down in between two elderly ladies, the perfect shield from anyone getting close to you. Even Bucky knew not to harass a woman in front of two NYC ladies. They’d beat him to death with their shopping bags. You smirked at the mental image you had created in your mind, escaping reality even if getting away was only temporary.

Once you were sitting, the pain you had ignored so diligently came back with force. Your lower half was cramping and sore and you wanted to cry from the pain of it, but no, not while Bucky was there. Not ever again, while any man could see. ‘When had you turned to hate men for what one had to you?’ you wondered.

Bucky disappeared one stop before the tower and you were relieved that he seemingly had realized how dead-serious you were.

The second you entered the tower, you were utterly, abnormally calm and finally stopped shaking. You didn’t have a plan yet, but you knew you’d have to get away, away from this place and Steve and all the pain he’d caused you. After all, you could barely move without hurting.

You could go and teach at any university in the country. They’d love to have you. All you needed to figure out how to quit without seeming suspicious. That was going to be difficult because Tony knew you loved your job. But you couldn’t tell him the truth. No one would believe you if you told them the real reason and you had worked too hard to now be labeled as a crazy fangirl/stalker-lady. You huffed. If only they knew who the real stalker was.

You smiled at your secretary, thanked her for the coffee she had bought for you on her way to work. You squared your shoulders and open the door to your office ready to start your day.

When you entered your office you were hit with a strong sense of déjà vu, you started to shiver again and felt all color leave your face. You almost dropped your coffee.

Steve was in your office again. But luckily – blessedly even – so was Tony. What the actual fuck? You cursed in your mind but tried to smile. It didn’t work judging by Tony’s expression.

“Y/n, are you all right?” he asked while crossing the room towards you. “You don’t look too good.” Before Tony’s outstretched hand could touch you, you took half a step back. “I think I’m coming down with something. The flu, I guess,” you mumbled.

“Then why didn’t you stay home?” said a sincerely concerned voice – Steve’s. Sincerely concerned? No, it couldn’t be! Your creepy-man-radar must just be off, right?

“I… I… I promised Jarvis to teach him about the code. I forgot yesterday” you murmured turning to the super-soldier, whose brows were drawn up in concern and he was leaning forward, looking you over as if to check for injuries or signs of your alleged flu. ‘What was going on?’

“Is there anything I can do for you gentlemen?” you asked. Steve smiled at you at that. His smile was stunning. So… open and kind. And WHAT THE HELL??? No! His smile wasn’t kind! He was your rapist! Except that it was. There was no denying that. If your entire body hadn’t been hurting maybe you would’ve started talking yourself into the fantasy that yesterday hadn’t happened, but it did. But his smile was nothing like yesterday. His smile made you want to trust him.

“Well, y/n, I just wanted to congratulate you and Stevie here wanted to thank you for your speedy work. We were able to arrest 20 people yesterday because of the intel you decrypted.”

“Yeah? That’s great” you forced out and turned back to Tony, but your eyes kept straying to Steve.

“Were you working late again, Gaia?” Tony suddenly asked. Shit. Tony had been on your ass to get a life. “No, no, why?”

“Because you look, and please forgive me for being frank here, worn out and really sick. I told you to take better care of yourself. Work isn’t everything, you know?”

You were about to call Tony out on that, after all, he was famous for his work benders, but Steve never gave you the chance.

“Jarvis, when has Ms y/l/n left her office yesterday?” Once more he sounded concerned. ‘Oh, that bastard’ you thought. Steve knew - of course - that you’d lied to Tony. “At 9 p.m., Captain, 4 hours after her workday usually ends, Sir.”

You wanted to strangle the AI at that moment.

“Well Tony, if you don’t mind I will take y/n home, then. She obviously needs to rest and I need to head to Brooklyn anyways to meet with Bucky.” Steve sounded offended that you’ lied, so righteous.

“Yes you do that, champ” Tony agreed, absentmindedly, not noticing that Steve had no right knowing where you lived. “Say hi to Buckeroo for me, will ya?” Steve nodded and added “Tony, you can’t work your employees that hard. We talked about this.” His voice was imploring, and a little disgruntled. What was happening?

“Well with this one it isn’t my fault” Tony replied flippantly as he walked to the door. “Take care of yourself y/n, okay?”

“Tony, I’m fine. I’m an adult, I can decide if I am fit to work or not!” You wanted to sound assertive, but you were rather aware that you begged. Tony just smiled at you and grinned: “What the Captain says goes, young lady, trust me it’s for the best.” And with that, he’d left your office, leaving you alone with your tormentor.

You were done for. You knew it. Steve would now pounce on you and break you to pieces and… fuck. You were getting wet. Your brain knew that this was a self-defense mechanism to your body, but your heart felt ashamed. There was no denying that the sex had ended spectatcularly.

You jumped a mile when you felt a gentle hand on your shoulder, ripping you out of your thoughts. “y/n?” Steve’s voice was soft. “It’s time to go home, come on.”

“Don’t touch me” you replied, your voice hoarse with unshed tears.

“Don’t worry, I can’t catch the flu, you could even cough on me, doll.” Steve joked, as he took your coffee from you and placed it on your table. “Any aches, pains or other flu symptoms?” For the first time since Tony left you, you dared look into his face. He seemed so concerned that you couldn’t help yourself and nodded. “Yeah. “ You sounded defeated even in your own head. “Both.”

“It’s okay, angel. I’ll take you home and take care of you.” Steve wrapped his warm, strong arm around you and moved you out of your office. Everything started to blur together, as he called out to your secretary that you were sick and he was taking you home and he moved you into an elevator and finally maneuvered you into a car. You let him. You let yourself be manhandled. You still didn’t understand what was happening. Where was the man who had almost fucked you to pieces yesterday night? At the thought, more wetness gathered between your thighs and you blushed scarlet as Steve got into the driver’s seat next to you. If any of the rumors about his enhanced senses were true, he’d be able to smell you by now.

As Steve pulled into the crazy Manhatten traffic he said: ”Bucky told me about your little argument this morning” His voice was so soft it lulled you in even more, “and quite frankly darling, I don’t appreciate the language you used nor how unappreciative of my protection you are. I know this must all be difficult for you, but there will still have to be consequences for your behavior,” ‘he sounds like a well-meaning teacher’ you thought confused. “but for today, I think you earned yourself some aftercare for taking my cock so well yesterday.” You felt like you’d been hit by a truck. Steve still sounded absolutely casual, but you froze at the slight mention.

His right hand settled on your thigh. “Breathe, darling, deep breath. It’s gonna be alright. I’m gonna take care of you from now on out.”

#fanfic #dark!Steve #Captain America #dark!Steve x reader #marvel #Cracking a code #dark!fic

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anika-ann · 4 years

Text

The Troubles Are Lurking in Queens - Pt.1

Of Arrogant Lawyers and Cheerful… Spider Vigilantes?

Pairing: Matt Murdock x reader Word count: 1860

Type: Two-shot, reader insert

Warnings: swearing, mention of attempted assault and a gun and a knife, pregnancy, adorable Peter Parker aka your friendly neighbour Spiderman

Summary: When an arrogant lawyer demands his paperwork right now or better yet this very moment, you’re a good wife to Matt and decide to deliver the documents yourself – for your husband’s mental health sake (and for the sake of the meeting he’s running to).

The catch is the said lawyer has his office in Queens – and whoever said Hell’s Kitchen was the least safe place in NYC was clearly lying.

You were staring at barrel of a gun. And your first thought was: the universe is punishing me for falsifying legal documents.

It happened approximately like this:

“Mr. Davidson-” Matt murmured, massaging the bridge of his nose, giving up the struggle of tying up his tie with one hand. Though that might have had something to do with the fact you snatched the said hand away to do it for him.

“I understand you would like to have the-"

You couldn’t make out a word, but the male voice on the other end sounded downright outraged. This Mr. Davidson had been pissing you off for quite a while; he was the opposite counsel on one of Matt’s cases and he was making everything difficult in the line of paperwork, well-aware Matt was going to dismantle him.

He. Was. Indescribably. Arrogant. Which was something you just couldn’t stand and it drove you up the wall.

“I just don’t have time right— no, I do not have a messenger boy on my disposal just to deliver the documents to you, you can be sure as-" You covered Matt’s mouth before he could swear, gaining a look as grateful as frustrated and wounded.

Oh yeah, you would love to even send this guy to hell and back just to kick him back down there, but Matt had a professional image to maintain. He inhaled deeply.

“Mr. Davidson, I’ll even deliver you the document myself-"

“With coffee and ‘go fuck yourself’…” you hummed as you finished the tie, causing the corners of Matt’s lips twitch.

“-but I just can’t do it before noon.”

Matt listened to the man’s raised voice for a while, grinding his teeth.

You felt really sorry for Matt. And what did a good wife do when feeling sorry for her husband? Helped him.

“I can deliver it.”

Matt shook his head, covering the phone. “I need to print it in non-braille version somewhere and sign it. I don’t have time for that-"

“I can sign it,” you shrugged. Matt’s eyebrow shot up. “What? I saw you sign stuff more times than I can count. It will be fine.”

“That’s a fraud.”

“It stays in a family. I’ll be signing by my own last name.”

Matt’s features softened at the note, but he didn’t change his mind. “That’s still a fraud, sweetheart.”

You pointed at the phone wordlessly; the man on the other end of the was so caught up in his monologue, enchanted by listening to the sound of his own voice, that he didn’t even notice no one was responding.

Matt pouted in an ‘okay, you have a point’ way. His eyebrow furrowed with concern – of course it did. He always worried about you, sometimes for a good reason, however, lately… ever since you two had found out you were going to be parents, a new life growing in your belly… well. Matt was anxious and downright paranoid.

“You would do it?”

“Sure. I could use a walk.” Oh, you could. You might be having a day off, but sitting on a couch all day might actually kill you.

“It’s in Queens.”

“...and a subway ride.”

He still seemed to struggle.

“-are you even listening to me?!”

And that did it. Matt cracked. “Of course, Mr. Davidson. You’ll have the documents before noon.”

“Now was that so hard?”

Matt inhaled sharply and you quickly took the phone from his hand.

“Mr. Murdock put you through to me. I’ll deliver you the documents. It was a pleasure to deal with you, Mr. Davidson,” you chatted sweetly and ended the call. Matt was watching you, pressing his lips together, clearly holding back a smile.

“You’re a mischief.”

He kissed you forehead lovingly.

“Me?” you asked innocently. “I was perfectly polite. He was being a dick. Now, you mean the papers for the Howard’s case, right? Speak fast or you really will be late for your meeting…”

That was how you found yourself on your way to Mr. Davidson’s office in Queens, two copies of whatever paperwork with yours/Matt’s signature and the bloody Google maps app that wasn’t counting on alleyways. And you had about four extra pounds just in your belly, so you really wanted to count any shortcut in.

On a second thought, maybe God was not punishing you for the little fraud with the signatures but for your laziness.

Now you were staring at a barrel of a gun, four pounds of living growing mass of your baby in your belly and you really didn’t know how to fight the mugger off. The memory of Matt’s voice reminding you the first rule – run from the danger – was shushed by a dreamed voice of his that was telling you to just give the thug your fucking purse, because running was not an option in your state and situation; on top of everything, Mr. Davidson’s ‘now was that so hard?’ mocked you and you mentally yelled YES.

“Are you deaf too? Give me your fucking bag!”

“Okay, okay— just… just don’t shoot! I’ll give you my phone and wallet, but I have some legal papers I can’t-”

He shot into air and you jumped, your instinct screaming at you how to disarm him – Matt had taught you how, you had actually done it before, because you fucking lived in Hell’s Kitchen, the most dangerous area in NYC, Matt had taught you for a reason. But another instinct – not to take any risks and protect your baby – was much stronger. You gulped, feeling tears gathering in your eyes.

“Please, just— just don’t hurt me.” Don’t hurt the baby. “Here-"

You barely managed to extend your hand with the handbag when something white curled around the gun – more like cocooned it – and pulled the weapon away.

Both you and your assailant gasped.

“Fuck.”

“Up here, bad guy!” a cheerful male voice called out and you fought the urge to look up, not wanting to leave the still dangerous man out of your sight.

Good thing you didn’t; he pulled out a knife and lunged after you.

You barely dodged the knife and caught his forearm. He seemed surprised at your defence, but let the knife fall, trying to catch it with his free hand. You listened to your first instinct – you deflected the knife before he caught it.

You managed to kick his knee and then his both legs were suddenly tied together with the strange white-- thingie and the thug was pulled away, cursing.

You blinked in shock, looking in the direction he was being dragged. A strange man of not so strong built, dressed in blue and red costu— armour, it must have been an armour, because he was obviously stopping a crime in a dress-up, which made him a vigilante. And as a vigilante wife, you knew vigilantes were in fact not wearing costumes, but armours.

“What kind of a douche attacks a pregnant woman?!” he demanded exasperatedly and with one motion of his wrist, the mugger’s hands were tied too. “Coward!”

And he knocked him out, tossing him aside, looking up at you. What kind of a mask was that? The strange eye area-- and was that a spider emblem on his chest?

He took several steps towards you and you instinctively stumbled back.

This guy might have saved your ass, but he was still a stranger, shooting some white sticky substance from his wrist and he was wearing a spider themed cos- armour and it was really creepy. Which said something considering your own husband was lurking at night dressed like the Devil himself.

“Hey, it’s okay! I’m not gonna hurt you! I promise!”

He held out his hands, showing you they were empty and that he meant no harm. Jesus, he was so thin. Was he even a man? Was he a kid? Like, a teenager? His voice sounded like it still some masculine changes to go through.

“Who are you?” you asked cautiously. ‘How old are you?’

“I came to help! I’m just your friendly neighbour Spiderman!”

The who now? “I’m not... from the neighbourhood. I’m-"

“-BLEEDING! Oh god, oh god. You really showed the guy, but you’re bleeding. Oh god, oh shit— now that’s more money to the swear jar-" the kid, and you were now sure he was a kid, started panicking and you had no idea why, because-- oh.

Your hand was bleeding.

“Oh.”

“Oh god, I have to get you to a hospital-"

You froze. “That’s not necessary-” You didn’t have time for a hospital now. You needed to deliver the stupid papers; your hand had to wait, it didn’t look too deep, you’d be fine. Though it did kinda hurt, how had you missed that?

“What?!” the kid squeaked. “You’re bleeding! I should have done better, oh no-"

You felt a ridiculous urge to comfort him all of sudden, so you crossed the distance, boldly caressing his arm.

“Hey, no, you did great-"

“But you’re bleeding, miss— madam? I should probably go with madam-"

You pressed her lips together so you wouldn’t laugh at his babbling. Had he noticed your ring? Maybe it was your growing belly.

“It’s alright, Spiderman. You saved me from getting shot and mugged, that’s wonderful.”

He looked up. “So you’re not mad at me? Why don’t you want me to take you to the hospital then?”

“Because-"

“Of course! Karen, call mister Stark!” he blurted out, delighted he found a solution.

“What?!”

You wanted to ask who Karen was and where she had been hiding, but Stark’s name kinda caught your attention more urgently. Call Stark? You would hope he was talking about a different Stark, but this kid had some sort of a suit and was playing hero, so-

“It’s okay, he’ll help-” the boy was quick to reassure you, poor kid not having clue why you did not want to see Tony Stark in the slightest.

“No!”

“He’s a good guy!”

“I don’t need-"

“Oh, Mr. Stark! Thank god. I have a woman— no, not a girlfriend, I mean-- no, not an experimental intimate stuff mentor-"

You almost choked on your own spit. Now you had no doubt he was talking to Tony freaking Stark, because he would make a remark like that. Wonderful. You hadn’t been interacting too much with Tony; in fact, you had only met once, the meeting being pretty intense, with blood, kidnapping and stuff.

“An injured one! She was almost mugged and she’s pregnant and she’s bleeding— from her hand!” he explained exasperatedly, gesturing wildly with his hands. “And she wouldn’t go to the hospital and she’s saying it’s not necessary, but-”

There was a short silence and you wondered what Tony was saying, where, when, how and WHY had he recruited a kid and what the hell was all this.

You checked the time, finding out you really needed to go.

“I’ll show you how she is. Karen, initiate a video call-"

“No! Wait!” you yelped, lunging after a non-existent phone, desperately wanting to stop him. Oh no, please, you so didn’t have time for Tony Stark. You were sure that if Stark saw you, he would recognize you and-

“Mr. Stark is saying I should definitely bring you-"

-and would want you to come.

You raised your hands in defensive gesture. “I’m walking away.”

You looked around, gathered your handbag and stuff, spun on your heels-

“No way! Mr. Stark thinks you need medical attention-"

“I’ll make sure he needs medical attention unless I’m walking away.,” you growled loudly, more annoyed than anything else. “I really need to deliver these papers-"

“Oh! Where?! I’ll drop them off for you, madam! Maybe it’s even on our way! Where do you need them?”

You were so stunned you stuttered an address.

“Great! Let’s go!”

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Part 2 (final)

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Thank you for reading!

(This is an oldie, might feel a bit different than my usual stuff)

#fanfiction #marvel #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock imagine #peter parker #peter parker imagine #matt murdock #mcu #daredevil #spiderman #daredevil fanfiction #matt murdock fanfiction #spiderman fanfiction #imagine #marvel fanfic #the troubles are lurking in queens #anika ann

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writingjoycebyers · 3 years

Note

Could you write a small drabble about jopper being protective of eachother 🥺

Joyce Byers x Jim Hopper - Friend, old friend - a song fic

(this fic is based on the prompt above (I hope this counts as protective) and the song slow mover by Angie McMahon. Comments and reblogs make my writing heart go boom boom - you know how it works. love feedback and suggestion on how to do it better. or ideas. or thoughts. or whatever <3)

Warnings: contains mature topics like a hint of cheating, alcohol consumption, very light nsfw (superficial) and angst. 18+ as always

Friend, old friend, it's 4 AM

What are we doing in the street?

They walk through the empty streets of Hawkins, a cold february night in 1969, snow falling onto them, and they don‘t even notice the small, cold drops on their heads, shoulders and hands - they‘re far too gone to notice, too drunk to freeze and too sober to dance in the snow the way they used to when they were kids in Jim‘s parents backyard. They‘d left the bar an hour ago, to roam the empty streets at night, talking and walking like old friends do.

„Yeah, he‘s with my mother tonight. Jon loves it there.“, Joyce adds as Jim asks her where she‘s left her son - a reasonable question considering Joyce seemed to have time and space to get wasted all on her own on a saturday night. „She lets him have chocolate before dinner and all.“

„And...“, Jim adds, unable to finish his questioning words when Joyce interrupts him. „I‘ve got no clue, and I kind of don‘t want to know.“, Joyce finishes his sentence, anticipating the question underlying the small word „and“ and the tone of her friend‘s voice. No clue, he might aswell be screwing some girl in her very own wedding bed. Lonnie.

„Joyce, does he even care for the kid?“, Hopper suddenly blurts out, without warning, and boy — he does sound angry. He stops, and grabs her by the shoulders. It‘s a sudden move for him, impulsive and way more serious than she had experienced him at the bar, in their heavy, drunken laughter above the tears behind her brown eyes.

„He... even asked me if I want to try for another one.“, Joyce confessed, a whisper in the cold as she tried to avoid locking eyes with Jim. She had become bad at eye contact lately. Her hand found his on her shoulder. He had not actually asked, had rather joked around that if they tried for another boy, then maybe he‘d finally have a kid that liked what he‘d call boys stuff. Joyce swallowed hard. Lonnie didn‘t want to make another baby for love. No, he was being selfish. And still that idea had sparked a tiny bit of hope inside of her, a hope that he‘d maybe change? Change for the sake of another kid? But she couldn‘t tell Hopper. So she told him some kind of half hearted truth.

„Are you hungry?“, she suddenly asked as his grip on her shoulders began to losen. She nodded into the direction of a 24 hour diner, the neon lights behind them illuminating his silhouette from behind. She loved his silhouette.

I don't want to buy fried chicken

I wish that I was going to sleep

„Nah...I just... Joyce.“, he mumbled, his articulation heavy and sloppy from the drinks he had drowned. The „Joyce“ said it all. He knew she was trying to distract him, knew she did not want to talk about Lonnie, that she did not want to stay with that man and neither would want to leave him. He‘d take her with him, he thinks, take her with him into his small apartment in NYC, around the corner of his police training station, and hold her tight every night in his way too small bed, and never let go again. He‘d done that once too often already. But then, his mind flashes to the woman he‘s dating, Diane, tall and blonde, a woman he hasn‘t thought of much during his visit home, if he was honest with himself. A small bundle of guilt starts to form in his gut, and he isn‘t sure if he‘s sick from the alcohol, or if it really is his conscience.

„Just tired.“, he mumbles then, and none of his thoughts were said.

So they start to make their way towards Jim‘s parents‘ house, the way they had done it so often as teenagers just a couple of years ago. A lifetime ago. Joyce keeps on walking next to him although she lives on the opposite side of town now, that small house on the edge of the woods. Where was home?

Quietly she follows Jim up to the corner of the street, because walking next to him feels a lot like home to her, so familar with his warmth, his unique scent, his height towering above her. He was home, after all.

They stop by the STOP-sign, a flashing one that stands across the streets of Jim‘s birth place, and as if the stop sign was meant for them, they don‘t go any further. It‘s quiet, a winter night, and Joyce feels like she can hear the snow flakes falling. Jim‘s presence feels warm, and life feels cold - and she does not know where to go. She‘s got a house to live in, but no home to go to sleep at. No peace within her own four walls.

„So, when are you heading back to the city?“, she asks shyly after some moments of silence.

„Tomorrow night.“, he replies, staring down on the floor, and then back up to the sign as a car goes by and it starts blinking.

„So.. last night here, huh?“, Joyce whispers, her face turned to the side because for some reason, for some damn reason she can‘t look him in the eye again.

The silence gets louder, the blinking feels harsher, the cold gets colder. She wraps her arms around herself as she feels the dizziness of the alcohol get washed away by the bleak midwinter air and her thoughts. The last night - their last chance?

Her thoughts drift off as she feels his gaze on her, feels him get closer and wrap his arms around her. They stand there in a deep, intimate hug and she asks herself what if - what if she was married to him, what if the house on the other side of the street was theirs, their home? What if they entered the living room, warmed themselves up with a deep, long kiss? God, she wanted to kiss him. His breath is warming the side of her face while he still hugged her, and she turns her head a bit, looking up. The last time they had been this close to kissing had been another lifetime ago. His eyes look dark and warm in contrast to the cold wind around them.

„You wanna come inside with me?“, he suddenly suggests. She answers with a small nod.

And I don't want to kiss you

Underneath that flashing sign

They enter his parents‘ place and although it is huge and empty, it is welcoming and cozy. The furniture hasn‘t changed. The atmosphere hasn‘t changed. There‘s a small light on the table by the sofa, and the room looks so large without Jim‘s family in it. She looks at him, and he looks sad. „It is okay to miss them.“, she whispers softly, her small hand on his back as they stand in the middle of the living room. The tension they had shared under the flashing light is gone for a second. They‘re old friends again. She rubs his back, and feels like she was wrong, feels as if she had interpreted it all the wrong way. Maybe he needed a friend, not a lover. Or maybe he needed time?

She can sense his tension underneath her hand, and she‘s glad she can be close to him in some way, somehow. Joyce looks around the familiar room, the old clock on the wall telling her the night might soon be coming to an end, and she gets sad herself. Their last chance - gone?

But then, suddenly, Jim wakes up from his short, griefing trance. Without a warning he pulls her close by the hand that had just comforted him, and as he leans down his lips find hers. There‘s no time to lose. They kiss and it feels both wrong and right, both hot and cold. She‘s overwhelmed by the passion behind his kiss, the force behind his touch as he scoops her up into his arms and her legs wrap around his waist like they belong there. „Jim...slow down. I want to feel this.“, she suddenly whispers. Suddenly, the night feels still young as he takes her by the hand and they walk up the stairs to his childhood bedroom

What's the hurry? We're not ready

We've got plenty of time

Some time later, minutes, hours, moments, they‘re a mess of limbs and words and kisses and Joyce could swear to God she has never felt like this before. He‘s rushed, but gentle, as if he‘s trying to make up for the lost time, and she‘s the other side of the magnet, slow and sensual and they make the perfect mixture. It takes a bit of talking, a bit of trust, and then they arrive - arrive at home.

For the rest of the night, Jim holds her tight in his way too small bed for once and he never wants to let her go again. They look into each other‘s eyes as they lay entangled, none of them daring to losen the grip, and Joyce feels tired, but she does not want to miss a second of this. Their last chance, remember?

„Get some sleep.“, he murmurs with a soft kiss onto the top of her head. „I‘m not leaving your side tonight.“, he adds as he strokes her hair, caresses it gently, stroking away the thoughts of guilt that come creeping up in Joyce‘s mind as she lays in the arms of another man, indulging in the afterglow of a forbidden rush of passion and confusion. What about him, she thinks, is there someone he should feel guilty for now?

Joyce couldn‘t know what the future would hold for him, a wife, a marriage and a daughter. She could only guess. Neither could she know what the future would hold for her, that she would indeed try for another baby with Lonnie and that, in two years or three, she‘d sometimes find herself lying awake late at night, counting the weeks between their little adventure and her blood results from the doctor‘s pregnancy test. It‘d be wishful thinking, maybe, that she wanted her second son to be more like Hopper than Lonnie. Wishful thinking, and a stupid, unprotected adventure.

Maybe you will get married

Maybe fall in love

Could you make me fall asleep

When you're holding me?

Try set me on fire

The morning after, Joyce awakes with her head on his chest and his arms neatly placed around his torso. Jim is fast asleep. Memories of the night come flashing back in front of her inner eye. She‘s Lonnie Byers wife. She is Lonnie Byers god damn wife in another man‘s bed. And she‘d always thought she was better than Lonnie.

Quietly, she leaves the bed and tiptoes to her clothes lying on the floor on the other side of the room. For the first time, she catches a glance of Jim‘s old room. Nothing has changed. She gets dressed as silently as possible, staring at a picture on the wall - him and her during Prom Night, in front of the Gym. She should have known earlier that this was more than friendship. She had known earlier, actually, and they had always danced around it, danced like it was prom night - until yesterday.

There's someone else but I twist all of

His words and he twists mine

At last, Joyce puts on her jacket, slips into her shoes and opens the old wooden door as carefully as she can. One last look towards the bed with a peacefully sleeping Jim in it, and she‘s out the door. He had promised last night he wouldn‘t leave her side, but this was a promise she herself could not make. In this moment, she felt as if they had to go backt to the separate paths they had chosen at some point, whether they were right or wrong, drunk or sober.

She waves him goodbye as the front door of Jim‘s parent‘s house closes behind her. A wave he doesn’t see.

Joyce would never return to that place again — She‘d not return home for more than 10 years after that. And when she, in 1983, finally does return home, entering the Chief of Police‘s office one morning, she‘ll be too panicked to notice that it‘s home, too broken to see that he‘s still there beneath the flashing sign. Waiting.

So I'll have to let him go

We sometimes fit, but we always lie

And he thinks we could make it work

But only when he's drunk

You think you could help me swim

But I've already sunk

_____________

Thanks for reading. Please drop me a line if you‘ve got thoughts on this. Or if you wanna chat about joyce/st/jopper. My inbox is open.<3

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huntergatherercreator · 4 years

Text

The Takedown | Part Eleven

Pairing: Mob!Tom Holland x Detective Reader

Summary: NYC has a new drug lord determined to wipe out any and all competition in order to grow his empire. You're going undercover to stop him.

Warnings: Mentions of weapons, swearing, violence, drugs

Notes: In all of my plotting for this fic I’d never planned on writing a lot from Tom’s POV but I’ve really got into it. I hope everyone’s enjoying mob Tom as much as I am!

Part 11 – 1,547 words

Toms POV

It had been six days. Six fucking days and no retaliation from Rivera. In any other situation he’d take this to mean he’d won but he knew Rivera wouldn’t back down. Despite the warning Tom had dropped off at the docks Rivera would have a plan of attack. He always did. He pressed his forehead against his linked fingers. Thumbs rubbing at his temples he inhaled deeply trying to rein in his thoughts. Maybe driving him to madness waiting for the guillotine to drop was part of Rivera’s tactics. Get him too caught up by the question of ‘when’ that he missed the ‘how’.

The grating buzz of the intercom had his jaw clenching. He’d been in meetings all day with his men and not one of them had anything useful to say. As his assistant let him know his next appointment had arrived he was tempted to tell them to fuck off. He knew better though. He had to lead by example. Act as if the threat wasn’t a worry in front of his men otherwise they’d spiral. Settling back in his chair he adjusted his suit jacket as the door opened and Joe entered accompanied by a heavily tattooed runner. It took him a second to pull up the name. Tate, he realised with a slow sinking in his gut. Finding a replacement for Arnold was yet another thing he had to fix.

Glancing between his man and the newcomer he took in their shared unease as they perched in the armchairs before his desk.

“This is about her isn’t it?” he realised with growing anticipation. If his theory was right then she could be the key to toppling Rivera off his gunmetal throne. Joe nodded but wouldn’t make eye contact.

“Tell me,” he demanded.

“I’m sorry, boss. I couldn’t get anything on her, but-“

He stood swiftly, his chair rattling as it hit the wall. Hands gripping the edge of the desk he towered over them. “How is that possible? Is she working with Rivera or not?”

“I don’t know, boss. It’s like she knew she was being followed, she kept throwing me off her trail.”

“Did she know she was being followed, Joe?” He didn’t believe his best man would be obvious enough to get caught. He never had before, but it was the only explanation for the failure he could think of.

“No. I’m sure of it. I’ve had others track her at different points around the city and they’ve all lost sight of her too,” Joe insisted, squirming under Holland’s dark stare.

“What about her background?”

“Came up clean.”

“Too clean?”

Joe shook his head. “She’s been picked up a few times, mostly for theft, once for dealing but was released. That was when she was younger. If she’s been dealing since then she’s kept her head down. Which might explain why she’s so good at covering her tracks.” Tom threw him a pointed look.

“Don’t make excuses. You fucked up, Joe. One woman. That’s all I asked. One.” He was letting his temper get the better of him but he didn’t care. Now that his last lifeline had evaporated he was back to square one. Hand raking through his hair he closed his eyes for a brief second.

“Why is he here? What else has gone fucking wrong?” he motioned to Tate who’d sat unmoving through their conversation. Joe’s hesitation had his fists clenching. Without a word Tate lifted the backpack he’d been carrying and slid it onto the desk.

“She gave it to me. It’s the pay-out for her stash.”

Unzipping the bag roughly he balked at the cash within. Arnold had been an incompetent prick giving her more than one person’s lot to sell, but given the bundles before him she’d somehow pulled it off.

“Told me to give you a message, too. Says this is what you’re due, and she’s keeping the profit.”

Tom stilled. His skin prickled. Who the fuck did she think she was?

“And you did nothing to get the rest?” he snarled. His heart rate was picking up as adrenaline seeped in.

“Figured you’d prefer to get the cash back personally,” Tate motioned to the front of the bag where a slip of paper was tucked. “Found her address going through Sam’s shit.”

Some of the tension in his shoulders lifted. It had been a while since he’d dealt with anything like this himself. Unbidden an image of the last time he’d seen her flashed behind his eyes. She’d stared down the barrel of his gun without even a flicker of fear. He couldn’t wait to change that.

“I want a car ready in ten minutes.”

****

Detective POV

The hot water of the shower helped flush away the tiredness clinging to my bones. It was just after five in the evening and even with a full day of recuperating I was still drained. After giving Zoey and the girls their dues she’d tipped me off about a rave happening in Hell’s Kitchen. It had been risky given that was Rivera’s primary territory but a large portion of the drugs that had been left had been sold. What little was left got pushed on the streets and then I’d summoned Tate to take Holland what he was due.

Given the derisive smirk on Tate’s face he’d pass my message along, if only to be the one sent back to deal out my punishment. I tried to picture how Holland would react to the news but couldn’t get past the darkness of his eyes. A shiver snaked up my spine as my pulse spiked. I shook my head sharply to clear the thoughts threatening to creep in, turning up the heat as I did to chase away the chill.

Holland is a mobster. He’s a killer. He’s dangerous. I’d found myself repeating the mantra more and more since the Cove. Zoey had questioned me about it again too. Still probing about how I was dealing with the case, angling towards me stepping back again. I’d shut her down quickly. This was my case. I’d know when things went too far. Now, after clearing the literal weight off my back in the form of the drug filled backpack, I’d been able to find a way to reel Holland back in.

Wrapping myself in a towel I padded towards the kitchenette to grab a cup of coffee. Halfway towards the machine a thin slash of light cut across the floor. The front door was cracked open. It was undamaged, meaning someone had picked their way in. A quick glance around the small apartment and I couldn’t see anything else out of place. There was no sign of an intruder but my skin prickled. Tightening the towel I gently clicked the door closed. Reaching into the umbrella stand I picked out one of the many guns I’d stashed around after Arnolds visit. Double checking the clip as quietly as I could I moved back towards the only unchecked area.

The door was closed, how I’d left it, but the tingling of my scalp warned me to be on high alert. I pressed against the wall, my fingers resting lightly on the door handle. The roaring of blood in my ears made it impossible to tell if I could hear movement or if it was my adrenaline fuelled imagination. I took a slow breath and on the exhale threw the door open. A moment of pause to draw out any gun fire and then I swung into the room, weapon raised.

I froze unable to process the situation that greeted me. Holland was sat on the corner of the bed, his gun resting against his thigh, the other toying with the underwear I’d left out. Waves of heat warmed my cheeks as he stroked the lace without expression.

“Did you buy these with my money?” His even tone had my breath catching. I’d confronted him before, I’d seen him angry. I’d seen him humiliated. This was different. His curls were in disarray as if he’d been running his hands through them repeatedly. His shirt unbuttoned at the top, tie loose around his neck. I knew pushing him wouldn’t end well. I kept my mouth shut.

“How about this?” Picking up the gun I’d had hidden in my bedside cabinet he turned it over in his hand as if appraising it.

Excruciatingly slow his gaze turned from the items on the bed to where I stood still aiming at him in the doorway. Leaning back on his free hand those dark eyes appraised me. Shame flared as a new type of heat spread. I bit the inside of my cheek hoping the surge of pain would douse it before he noticed but I was too slow. He’d zeroed in on the change of my breathing and the new flush I could feel coating my neck. He shoved off from the bed. My trigger finger tensed as he stalked towards me. My mind swam with the mantra. Holland is a mobster. He grabbed my wrist, slamming it back against the door frame. He’s a killer. Pain shot through my arm and the gun clattered to the floor as my body reflexively let it go. He’s dangerous. His strong fingers enclosed my throat.

------

Taglist:

@spideylovin @lukesbabylon @panicattheeverywherekid @keep-bears-wild @unbelievableholland @tomholland-mcu @whattheheckparker @stargazerholland @gorillaglue23 @marvelpeters

Part 12!

#mob!tom #mob!tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland imagine #tom holland

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princessphilly · 3 years

Text

Plain Jane Teaser

This is smut. Not super explicit smut but it’s NSFW

How much did it fucking hurt to love someone who doesn’t love you back? It hurts so much but it’s better to give up than to keep running after them.

But still, this is my story. So I thought I was in love with someone who didn’t really notice me. Like, no matter what I did, they always looked for someone else. I was totally invisible to them even though I was right there. I mean, he saw me but at the same time, he didn’t see me. I was just the friend of his teammate, the girl who was his teammate’s plus one whenever he was single. I was always at events for the team but I was like the fucking wallpaper to him.

It’s not like I just stood there, hoping, praying, and wishing he would look at me. I flirted with him and I know I’m attractive. I’m not blonde bombshell hot but when I go out and party, I always have at least two or three guys trying to take me home. So, it fucking sucks that I can’t get him to fucking like me.

It’s been over a fucking year and I’m getting tired of being hung up over him. So, what, he has amazing blue eyes and is fucking awesome with kids? I’m over this shit.

My friends thought it was because maybe my friend told him I was off limits. Others thought he just wasn’t into me.

It doesn’t matter because I’m moving anyway. I just aced an interview and I just got my dream job. I’m supposed to be moving to NYC for work in a month.

So… I’m laying here with a heavy arm around my stomach, a hand literally holding one of my tits and wondering, how the hell I ended up in bed with the one guy who I swore I would never fuck.

I look down and I see the scruff burn and I try to slide from under the arm but I swear, he holds me harder. Part of me wants to die; the other part feels what is poking my ass and wants to take another ride.

I, the girl who spent the past two seasons trying to get noticed by Duncan Keith, manages to get fucked by Captain Serious. Yes, him, Jonathan Toews.

I close my eyes as I refuse to give in to the urge to scream. The one guy who always had to make a comment, the one who poked fun at my crush on Duncs and told me it would never happen, of course I fuck him.

I rub my thighs together; I can feel a seep of wetness as I think about what I did earlier this night. I also give up trying to move because I can’t move over 200 pounds of rock-solid man on my own.

I’m the biggest fuck up on earth.

Jamila mentally wrote that journal entry as she tried to go back to sleep. It was a little after four AM, there was really nowhere for her to go. She was already going to have to take a walk of shame anyway, no point in trying to leave. The arm around her waist tightened and a groggy voice muttered, “How the fuck are you awake?”

Jamila stiffened before whispering, “Fuck.”

“Yeah, fuck.”

The arm was still around her waist but the fingers were now tracing her side. Jamila didn’t even try to suppress the shiver, it felt so good.

“I can still fucking taste you, sweetheart.”

The fingers moved higher to where they started to caress her breast, teasing her nipple.

“Oh fuck,” Jamila half-moaned. Last night had been too good and even though she was sure she’d regret it in the morning, she was totally all in for it now. Moving his hand from her side, she placed his palm over her pussy. He chuckled, his deep voice losing the sleep from it.

Spreading her legs open, Jamila asked, “Touch me, please.”

“I like when you ask politely,” Jon rumbled as his fingers slid through her folds. Jamila whimpered; she was already wet and damn it, as he kissed her neck, she wanted him again.

#plain jane fic #jonathan toews #nhl smut #fic teaser #yes it's another series

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sebspocketsquare · 4 years

Text

Quarantine: 3

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (online)

A/N: Heya guys! Here’s part 3! It’s a little short and ends on a dark note, so don’t hate me.... Part 4 is in the works and i promise it’s gonna be a lot longer than this one!

Warnings: Flirting, language, quarantine, fear

[Sarge:] Any plans for today?

[Sarge:] Y’know, other than gaming :P

You stare at your phone and take a shaky breath. It’s noon on a Wednesday, six weeks since quarantine started and two weeks since you found Sarge…. and it’s been four days since you’ve run out of milk, rice and eggs.

You’d been good about rationing, good about not snacking too much, but the inevitability of you having to go to the store was screaming in your face today.

[clairv0yant:] I um.. unfortunately have to venture outside today.

His response is nearly immediate.

[Sarge:] You’re not serious are you?

[Sarge:] I just watched a video of two women in NYC fighting over a fuckin’ chicken breast.

[Sarge:] It’s not safe, Clair..

To an outsider, his concern for you might seem misplaced, weird even.

How could he care for someone so much after only two weeks?

But time works differently in quarantine.

He quickly became your entire world, and you, his.

Every waking moment was spent talking to each other, and though you knew you’d probably never meet him and nothing would come from your deep, late night conversations…. you couldn’t help but start to feel things for him.

You’d never tell him that, though.

[clairv0yant:] Unfortunately I don’t have another choice :(

You knew the video he was talking about, because it was taken at a big-name store only a few miles from your apartment. As soon as you saw it, you made a mental note to stay away from there and try a smaller, locally owned place instead.

[Sarge:] Sigh…

[Sarge:] I’m gonna worry about you every moment that you’re gone..

[Sarge:] I’d ask you to check in when you get there and leave, but..

[Sarge:] Would that be too possessive of me, doll..?

His ever-growing concern brought a small smile to your face and a fluttering feeling in your chest.

[clairv0yant:] No, I don’t think so, J. :)

[clairv0yant:] I swear I’ll check in with you every step of the way.

[Sarge:] Thank you for indulging an old man’s worrisome heart, Clair.

[clairv0yant:] Always :)

You dress carefully, choosing each article of clothing wisely.

Jeans, a long sleeved shirt, tall socks, boots that you didn’t mind leaving outside on your balcony for a few days, and a scarf to wrap around your face.

You debate on bringing gloves, and finally decide to carry a pair in your pocket, along with a bottle of hand sanitizer.

You knew it wouldn’t do much to protect you, but at least it was better than no protection at all.

When you’re all bundled up and you’ve sent J a message letting him know you’re leaving, you lock up and head out into the near-empty city.

There’s something strange about being one of the only people wandering the street in a normally shoulder-to-shoulder traffic area.

Litter scatters the sidewalk, and though your inner-self screams for you to pick it up and discard it in the nearest waste receptacle, a part of you knows you literally can't.

It’s too dangerous right now.

It takes fifteen minutes to reach the corner market you had in mind, and as you’d hoped, there are only a handful of people inside.

You’re able to get all the essentials you’d run out of or were low on, plus a couple of extra things just in case.

Your interaction with the cashier is pleasant, but brief, and once you’re outside the store with your goodies, you sanitize your hands for good measure.

J receives one more message from you before you’re heading back to your apartment, thankful that it’s looking like you’ll just miss the rain clouds that are starting to roll in.

Your heart is feeling a little lighter than it has lately, the knowledge that you had J waiting for you when you arrived home surely had something to do with that.

You find yourself smiling as you think of what your conversations later on might consist of.

If he’d be sweet and soft J, or the teasing and flirting J that you’d also come to adore.

All sides of him were turning out to be lovely.

You feel as if nothing can wipe the grin from your lips, that is, until you reach the building that houses your apartment, and a shiver of fear races down your spine when you notice that your front door is slightly ajar.

TAGS: (I wasnt sure who to tag, so if you dont want to be, I’m sorry!! Just trying to get this out there. ALSO if you wanna be tagged INBOX ME! I tend to miss people in the tags :( ). @mindingmyownbusiness @plumfondler @buckybarnesappreciationsociety @loricameback @tinaferraldo @geminimoonbeamx @preserumsteverogers @moderapoppins @lowkeysebby @buckyshattergirl @jayattemptstoruletheworld @the-observant-fangirl @moondancewrites @moonbeambucky @trinityjadec @stevieang @bionic-buckyb @eyecandybarnes @propertyofpoeandbucky @promarvelfangirl @ballyhoobarnes @bucky-plums-barnes @cate-lynne @witchymarvelspacecase @imaginingbucky @theimpossibleg1rl @babygurl8840 @wonderlandmind4 @buckysthing @formulafun @curvybihufflepuff @fanficsformarvelkillme @shadyskit @lostinthoughtsandfeelings @reading--mermaid–mermaid @fuckmestan @siliverin @verygraphicink @sallyp-53 @thatsbucknasty @steadyphantomcat @booktease21 @kiki5283 @lostinspace33 @drayshadow @theperditioncrasher @mmyepic @feelmyroarrrr@alien-beans @heartsaved @sideeffectsofyou @dreamingofonceuponatime @just-a-littlebit-of-everything @bluerorjhan @tarynsnotokay @jamdropx35 @turquoisekokiri @pinknerdpanda @starkrobb @marvelgirl7 @unscriptedtimetraveler @fangeekkk @wonderlandmind4

#quarantine #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #online au #sebspocketsquare christmas

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imanativeofswlondondahling · 4 years

Text

Becoming A Stark (4) Peter Parker X Stark! FemReader

A/N: So this is the longest chapter I’ve written for this so far! And it’s one of my favorites. Also my mom surprised me with a Nintendo Switch to make up for the fact that I haven’t been allowed to leave the house since March so I’m hoping to get another chapter of this out this weekend but there’s also Animal Crossing now so.......... As always let me know your thoughts on this or if you want to be tagged whenever I post a new chapter!

Word Count: 8346

Warnings: Mention of drug and alcohol abuse, swearing I think

Chapter One || Previous Chapter || Master List

“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” Tony’s voice is painted with the smile he wears as Pepper walks into the living room.

“You saw me two days ago.”

“Two days too long.” He says before kissing her cheek. “I didn’t know you were coming over.”

“That’s because this is just a stop. I’m not staying. I’m picking up Y/N.”

“You’re taking Y/N…?” He trails off in confusion.

“We’re going to get mani/pedis, do some back to school clothes shopping, and maybe get dinner. I want to get to know your daughter better.”

“She seems fine with hanging out with everyone except me.” Tony says dejectedly.

“You’re an acquired taste.” Pepper teases before placing a quick kiss on his lips. “Give her time. She hasn’t had even a week of having a father yet.”

“What time will you be back?” He asks, already knowing that he’ll have to fill his afternoon by himself.

“Six or seven maybe?” Tony glances at the Stark Phone that he’s actually started carrying with him now that it’s more personal. Natasha had snapped a picture of Y/N at, apparently, your favorite place in the whole city, which looks like a big book store. You’re not even looking at the camera, you’re carrying a ton of books and yet reaching for another one, but you’re smiling which is more than he can say for the past few days. When Natasha sent it to him, he immediately made it his background and lock screen. It may not have been a week, but you’re definitely becoming his world. “I’m going to see if she’s ready to go.”

You take one last look in the mirror, trying to decide if this is the outfit you want to be seen out in the world with famous Pepper Potts. Maybe you should change and dress up, but you’d rather be comfortable if you’re being honest. So instead of a dress or a romper, you’re in a pair of ripped denim shorts, a Rolling Stones t-shirt that you found at a thrift store a few months ago for so cheap but it’s in such good condition, and tie dyed high tops. You had thrown your hair into a ponytail with a red scrunchy only because the humidity was too much today. There’s a knock on the door. “Come in.” Jerk It Out by Caesars is playing over JARVIS, but he turns it down as Pepper walks into your room. You are in the middle of putting on the heart shaped pendant that Nana had given you for your thirteenth birthday as Pepper stands across your room.

“You ready to head out?” You glance back at the mirror once more time as you see Pepper in a red cocktail length dress.

“Do I need to dress up?” You ask, suddenly worried that your shorts and t-shirt won’t cut it in Pepper’s world.

“Honestly no. I probably should change. I came from a business lunch at this overly posh restaurant. If you’re good waiting like five minutes, I’ll go change.”

“Yeah I’ll be fine.” You grab a bag from your pile of bags, throw your wallet, a testing kit and then wander down to the kitchen to grab some low snacks.

“Rolling Stones?” Tony asks in mock surprise. “Couldn’t wear something like AC/DC or Black Sabbath? Have some taste if you’re really my daughter.”

“If you’re having doubts, I’ll go home to Nana and Pops.” You say as you throw the applesauce pouches in your purse.

“Nope. Not happening. I’ll forgive your subpar music taste, but we’ll get working on music education soon.” You just roll your eyes. You weren’t going to admit to him that you already listen to AC/DC a good chunk of the time and when in the right mood you listened to Black Sabbath.

“Y/N Miss Potts wants to know if you want her to grab you a pair of sandals for your pedicure.” JARVIS asks.

“I’ll grab a pair.” Turning to make your way back up the stairs, you walk back into your room. Grabbing the first pair of sandals you see. As you walk out your door, you see Pepper walking towards you in a loose white top, denim shorts, and a pair of sandals. “That’s the most laid back I think I’ve ever seen you.”

“That’s because you see me coming from SI most of the time and I have to dress up for that. But we’re going for comfy and casual now.” She smiles at you. “Did your dad see your shirt?”

“And give me crap for my subpar music taste? Yeah.”

“I had a feeling he might.”

“That’s why he’s not invited.” Pepper laughs.

“It’s not because we’re going shopping and for mani/pedis which he would be miserable at anyway?”

“That too. But still, if he hates on the Stones, he’s not invited.” Pepper lets out another laugh as the two of you walk back into the kitchen.

“What joke did I miss out on this time?” Tony asks.

“You had to be there.” You say instead of explaining.

“It’s nothing.” Pepper says, leaning over to place a kiss on his lips.

“I can’t tell if you’re corrupting her or the other way around.” Tony says as the two of you walk towards the elevator. “Maybe I should come along for supervision.”

“Bye Tony.” Pepper says, rolling her eyes before telling JARVIS to take them down to the garage. “So where do you normally go for back to school shopping?”

“Well we never had a ton of money, so Nana and I usually hit up the thrift stores. But I find great deals like this,” You motion to your shirt. “Four bucks and it’s basically brand new. Well as brand new as an old shirt can be.”

“Where are your favorite shops?”

“We’d go to Buffalo Exchange if we were looking for more like dresses and stuff. Like that one I wore to dinner I got at the Buffalo Exchange on the lower East Side. But there’s also a handful of good mom and pop thrift shops in Queens and Brooklyn if you’d rather head over that way. Bayside Thrift Shop is a good one in Queens or there’s Out of the Closet in Brooklyn.”

“Which one do you have better luck at?” Pepper asks as they walk to where Happy is waiting for them.

“I’ve always had great luck at Bayside.”

“So lets start there and then we can head to Buffalo Exchange before mani/pedis.” Pepper suggests.

“Where are we heading?” Happy asks as you and Pepper slide into the backseat.

“Bayside Thrift Shop in Queens.” Pepper turns to you. “Want to put some music on while we drive over?”

“Really?”

“Nothing you put on can be worse than what Tony puts on when he’s in a bad mood.” She says with a smile.

“Um ok. JARVIS can you play my June playlist?” You ask before he can list that you have a playlist called Tony Stark Can Rot. For some reason you feel like she wouldn’t like that as much.

“Certainly Y/N.” The first notes of Sweet Child O’ Mine by Guns N’ Roses start to play and you relax into the seat. If you had headphones in, it would feel like all the times that you, Betty, and Astrid had gone between Queens and the main island during the summer. The biggest difference was you weren’t crammed into the humid subway car and sitting to your right was your dad’s girlfriend, who was the farthest from the evil stepmother character from the thousands of books you read growing up. In fact, she is sweet and kind, someone you could find yourself loving easily.

You turn your head towards the window and focus on the passing sights of NYC as you head towards the area you had lived your whole life. You could point out the hospital you had been born at if you turned down the right streets. If you went up a few blocks you would pass your elementary school, your middle school, and the school you’d be starting at in a little over a week. Your whole life up until a few days ago centered on this area of New York. That bodega was the first one you had been able to run to on your own and that’s the street you take to go the back way to Betty’s old apartment. “Missing home?” Pepper asks, seeing you staring out the window with longing.

“This place is all I knew for the longest time. I spent more time in Queens than I did in Manhattan.” You say with a shrug, not wanting to sound ungrateful, but you miss home.

“You’ve gone through a lot this week. It’s ok to miss it.” Pepper’s hand rests on yours and gives it a little squeeze. “Queens can always be home, even if you’re living in Midtown.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever give Queens up.”

“Even when I’m in Malibu, I miss New York like crazy. It’s definitely home.” You listen to what Pepper’s saying as Happy turns the familiar path to head towards your favorite thrift store. He pulls into a lot across the way from the thrift store before getting out to open the door for you and Pepper. “Now, will you show me your favorite thrift shop?” Pepper asks.

“Easily. This place is meant to be shared.” You can’t help but smile as the three of you cross the street.

“What do you like the best about Bayside?”

“They tend to have a lot of graphic tees. Both of like the band variety but also just like sassy variety. And I could live in tees if I didn’t have to wear other clothes sometimes.” You admit as you open the door and hear the familiar chime. You see Anita at the counter as you walk in.

“Y/N! We thought we were going to miss you for back to school shopping.”

“Never! I have to come to Bayside.” You say, being completely honest.

“Where’s your Nana?”

“I brought my… Pepper this time.” You say motioning to your dad’s girlfriend, but not knowing how to introduce her.

“Well any friend of Y/N is a friend of ours. We thought you might be coming by, so I set a few things aside that you might be interested in.” Anita reaches behind the counter and pulls a stack of about four t-shirts out. Pepper watches as your face lights up. “We just got them in.” You lift the top couple up to look at the bottom couple.

“These are awesome!” The black and grey shirts look similar to things that Tony would wear, but Pepper keeps that to herself.

“I’ve got them. You keep looking.” Happy says as he takes the shirts from your hands.

“Happy, I can carry them-”

“It’s clothes, they’re not heavy. I’ve got it.”

“Thank you Happy.” Pepper trails a couple steps behind you as you finger through the shirts handing. The first to get pulled off the rack is a Nirvana shirt with a yellow smiley face on it. Then a blue tie dyed Pink Floyd 1973 tour shirt follows it.

“That’s one your dad can’t even try to say he was at. Three year olds weren’t allowed.” You roll your eyes, but you can’t help but smile at Pepper’s comment. You find another more classic looking Pink Floyd shirt hanging on the rack a few shirts back that you add to your pile.

“If I had been wearing that would he have said I had better music choices?”

“Probably. He’s just judgmental when it comes to music.”

“The Stones are classics!” You argue as your hands run through the racks to fall on a Sweet Child O’ Mine Shirt. “Oh this one is a winner.” It has a faded look to it and you love that in your shirts.

“Definitely so.” Pepper takes it from the rack and hands it to Happy. “To be fair to all your tastes, I think this one is needed though,” she says pulling another Rolling Stones shirt from the rack and you smile at it.

“They are my favorite.”

“Tony would die if he heard that.” You shrug. “Wanna try these on?” Pepper motions towards the pile that Happy is holding.

“Sure.” But then an Eagles Hotel California Tour 1977 shirt catches your eye. “One more for the road.” You say before snagging the shirt. You try on the shirts you had found before getting to the stack that Anita had put aside for you. You look at the four finally. The first was a grey Pink Floyd 1972 Carnegie Hall T-shirt?! Holy shit! Your mind might explode. Then there’s a black Aerosmith shirt with a boombox with wings that says ‘Let the Music Do The Talking’ which is such a big mood. Underneath that one there’s a black Nirvana Unplugged in NYC shirt which you have been looking for forever since you love that album. And last but not least there’s a classic looking Guns N’ Roses printed on black shirt in a gold font. Anita knows you well. Four of your favorite bands and to be honest four of your new favorite shirts. So far all of the shirts fit pretty well, or even fall on the large side which is how you like your t-shirts.

Pepper knocks on the fitting room door. “I found a couple things I think you’d like Y/N.” You open the door wearing the Guns N’ Roses shirt. “Oh I like that one.”

“Really?” You’re surprised that Pepper would be into band shirts.

“You think I could date your father and not be into what he considers some of the greatest musicians of our time?” Pepper smiles at you. “But also gold is just a good color for you and your skin tone.”

“I’m not going to be Iron Man at any point.”

“Wouldn’t want you to be. However I did grab these shirts because I think your dad’s reactions will be worth it.” You look at them and laugh.

“He’ll never let me leave the tower wearing them.”

“So wear them around the tower to bug him.” You close the door and try on the two shirts. The first is a tank top that you probably never would have looked at had all of this not happened. But Pepper was right. Tony would react to it, hopefully. Across the black fabric printed in white the shirt reads ‘I’m A Female’. Then in pink it reads ‘Fe = Iron, Male = Man” before finishing in white ‘Therefore I Am Iron Man’. You open the door to show Pepper.

“If I walked into the kitchen one day wearing this telling him I was going on a run, how much of a heart attack would I give him?” Pepper doesn’t have a chance to answer before Happy does.

“He will lock you in the tower. And possibly never let you leave.” Happy states, knowing how protective Tony is even after only knowing this kid for a few days.

“Worth it.” You and Pepper say with a teasing grin.

“Can I take a picture? That might be my favorite shirt so far.” Pepper asks. You nod and then, shocking even yourself, you throw your hand out in the standard Iron Man pose and Pepper snaps the photo. “I love it.” You smile and turn back into the dressing room before the flush takes over your face at the affection from your dad’s girlfriend. You shake your head, pushing the thoughts that want to invade your mind out of your head as you lift the last shirt up to change into it.

This one is grey and in white letters say ‘Screw Your “Lab Safety” I Want Superpowers”. Your dad was going to hate it for sure, knowing so many scientifically modified people. But you love it. Plus it’s so comfy. You roll the sleeves a bit and then open the door to show Pepper and Happy.

“He’s going to hate that one as well.” Happy says the moment he sees it.

“Or he’ll laugh and say show it to Steve.” Pepper says, cocking her head to one side. “Either way, we’re getting it.” In your head you know you shouldn’t buy all the shirts that you tried on, but even if you let Pepper pay for the two that she found, the remaining ones should only come up to about thirty dollars, and you think you have that much in your wallet. You collect all the clothes in the dressing room, which Happy immediately takes from you, and you follow Pepper and him towards check out when your eyes fall on the most beautiful jean jacket you’ve ever seen.

It was a medium wash jacket, that had been loved just enough that it was no longer stiff. It had some wear and tear in some spots, but it was loose enough that it would sit perfectly on you. You have to try it on. Pepper sees you debating about the jacket, but can’t figure out why you’re debating. “It’s a gorgeous jacket. Try it on.” You take it off the hanger, gently as if it was a child instead of a jacket, and slip it over your shoulders. Rolling the cuffs up a couple times so it didn’t hang over your hands you look down at the jacket, loving that it hits an inch or two below where your shorts do. “Now that is how a jean jacket should fit.” Pepper says, smiling that you found something you clearly loved on this trip. You slide it off your shoulders and the price catches your eyes. Yes, thrifting can be great, but the jacket is still fifty dollars even at the thrift store. You don’t have that much.

“I don’t need it.” You say, not wanting to bring up that you can’t afford it even if you did need it.

“I’m not taking no for an answer on that. A jacket that looks that perfect on you has to come home with you.” She places her hands gently on it and lifts it from your hands.

“Pepper, really I don’t-”

“Tony can afford it and it needs a good home.” Then it hits you, Pepper’s not going to make- no let you pay for any of this.

“You found many things today.” Anita says looking at the pile Happy and Pepper had made on the counter. “This is going to look the best on you.” She places a hand on the jacket that Pepper had added.

“She pulls it off like no one else.” Pepper agrees. Anita and Pepper chat about the weather and honestly you’re not sure what else because you just watch as the number climbs. You’ve been coming here for years and never seen the number go that high. Your heart falls into your gut when the jacket gets added. Looking in your purse, you know you have about forty dollars to your name and that wouldn’t cover even half of that right now. But Pepper hands over a black card, similar to the one that Natasha used the other day, and doesn’t even stop the conversation. It’s like this money thing doesn’t even bother her. But it definitely bothers you. Anita puts the clothes into a cloth bag and hands it to you.

“Thanks Anita.” You smile at her, but you don’t know when you’ll be back. All you’ll remember now is feeling uncomfortable for spending Tony’s money here. Happy opens the door and you follow Pepper out of the shop. Pepper is trying to make small talk but notices you looking nowhere but the ground. She takes the bag from you and hands it to Happy.

“Can you put this in the car?”

“But-”

“Five minutes?” She says. And technically, Pepper is his boss, so Happy nods.

“I’ll be right across the street.” She smiles as he walks across the street.

“So wanna talk about it?” She asks, bumping shoulders with you.

“Talk about what?”

“Why the ground is so interesting?” Pepper takes a pause trying to give you a chance to speak. “Or maybe about why you went so quiet in one of your favorite places?” Normally, you’d just keep it to yourself but for some reason, you don’t think Pepper will judge you.

“We, uh didn’t have a ton of money growing up. Whatever money we did have went to making sure we could afford rent and my insulin and making sure that there was food on the table. So once I was about eleven, some of the other people in our building would let me run errands for them or watch their younger kids and they would pay me some pocket money for doing it. And that pocket money I saved in a jar throughout the year so that once I could go back to school shopping and twice a year I could buy Nana and Pops something nice from Christmas and their birthdays. We didn’t really celebrate many holidays, but the ones we did we celebrated really small. Santa would bring me clothes while my friends would get touchpads and toys and I didn’t question it because I knew that while their families didn’t have to worry about whether or not you were going to have to choose between buying medicine you needed to live or putting food on the table.

But Nana and Pops tried to make it so I didn’t feel that. So when I got the chance to go to The Strand or Bayside, it wasn’t picking everything that caught your eye because I was the one paying for it. So I would buy one or two books or shirts because I couldn’t afford to spend all that money if I wanted to buy Christmas presents too.” You play with Queenie’s tubing, not wanting to look Pepper in the eyes as you continue. “But in the past three days, Natasha, Tony, you, whoever, have made it clear that Tony’s made of money and that he’s fine with spending it on books, phones, clothes, whatever he or anyone else wants. But there are people out there that aren’t that fortunate.

The money that Natasha spent buying me books the other day could have paid for my Nana’s medicine for a month. Or how much you just spent on clothing for me could have bought me clothing for the whole school year and bought Nana and Pops Christmas presents. Hell I looked up how much my new phone cost Tony and it could have paid for four months of insulin. That’s sixteen vials. But more importantly that’s nearly 1500 dollars. And I bet if I lost it, he would have a new one waiting for me.” Pepper lets you continue the rant, and doesn’t let you know that he added more upgrades to your phone than the baseline one that does indeed cost as much as your medicine does. But what she would rather talk about is why does your insulin cost that much? “You guys might not care about money, but it makes me sick every time that you drop this money on me. I’m not worth it.”

“First of all, you are definitely worth it and so much more. Tony has money just wasting away in the bank and likes to waste it on the people he loves. That means he’s going to drop money on you. But coming from the lifestyle you grew up in, it’s going to take some getting used to. Plus in his mind, he has fourteen years of Christmas presents and birthdays to make up for.” Pepper watches as your eyes go wide and knows that this might be the wrong thing to say. “But Tony is also up for doing things for charity. So maybe you can come up with an initiative that he can throw money towards for you. Like maybe fighting to lower the cost of insulin for others? Because while it’s not a problem now for you to afford it, why should it cost so much for others? Tony would definitely like to fight that. And that is something that SI can also get behind as well.” You look up for the first time since finding the jean jacket back in the shop.

“Really? SI would get behind something like that?” You ask, not understanding why a tech company would get behind something like the cost of insulin.

“Tony wants to look into manufacturing things to make diabetics' lives easier, which I told him he needs to talk to you about before doing anything. But your name is part of the company. You’re a Stark now. So anything that SI does, takes an interest in what you have an interest in. So yes, the cost of insulin is something that SI will fight for too. Help me do some research on who to support and we can start the battle as one of your first introductions to the world as Tony’s daughter?” You nod, knowing this is something you’ve always wanted to help with but never had the power to do anything about.

“Thank you.” You say, before doing something without thinking- you throw your arms around her. Her arms wrap around you, but she’s not sure what she’s being thanked for.

“What for?”

“Listening. Being here. Being human?” You say, joking about the last one, but it feels right.

“Of course. I don’t know how to be anything else.” She says and pulls on your ponytail a bit. “Now you want to show us around your neighborhood a bit before we head back to Manhattan?”

“You want to see it?” You ask, surprised that Pepper wants to see Queens.

“It’s part of what makes you you, so yes.” Happy finishes crossing the street to be back with the two of you.

“There’s a really great coffee shop up this way. Or if we go down this way there’s an amazing sandwich shop called Delmar’s. Oh and Pops goes to play chess at this park down that way.” You point out three different ways.

“Coffee sounds like a plan.” Pepper says. You drop your arms, not wanting to hold on to her longer than you’re allowed to but Pepper keeps an arm around your shoulder as you walk towards the coffee shop you love. It was always a treat when you got to go, but the smell alone was something you had missed. They make all their syrups from scratch and you could spend all day there reading if you were allowed.

As you walk, you point out the book shop where you sold the books you were done with to make some extra money, the apartment building that you, Nana, and Pops lived until there was a rat infestation, and the bodega that you used to go to to stock up on low supplies. You wave to some people that you know by face alone and smile at the feeling of being home. It feels nice to share this world with Pepper, and almost makes you wish Tony was here to show him what home feels like to you. It’s not throwing money around on things you don’t need. It’s the feeling of the sun on your skin as you walk around the streets you’ve known all your life.

At the coffee shop, Pepper buys you and Happy coffee, yours iced and his hot, as well as an iced tea for herself. “So I was thinking, we could go to Buffalo Exchange to try and find you some bottoms to go with the shirts we found for you, or maybe a dress or two? That way you have some clothes until the rest of your stuff gets moved from Queens?” You don’t say anything, but you know she’s right. You only have a few more sets of outfits and half of them aren’t appropriate for school. You force yourself to take a sip of your coffee as you nod your head. “We don’t have to Y/N. We can hold off.”

“No, we should. I don’t have that much stuff left at the tower and some of it is more wear at home type stuff.”

“Do you want to make a stop at your Nana and Pops house and get some more stuff?” Pepper asks.

“Can I?” You miss your Nana and Pops so much it hurts.

“Of course. Tony isn’t trying to keep you from them. And we’re already in the area.” You can’t stop the grin from exploding on your face. You know that Nana and Pops won’t have much more baggage you can put stuff in though so you turn to Marcie, who’s working at the counter.

“Hey Marcie, do you guys have any boxes that you haven’t broken down yet?”

“Actually yeah. We got shipments in this morning of some stuff. What size are you looking for?”

“Big enough to put some clothes and stuff in.”

“Ah moving apartments again?” Marcie had helped you with boxes when the rat situation happened. “Rats again?”

“Not rats, but something like that.” You say with a teasing smile. She walks to the back and grabs the couple bigger ones.

“Will these work?”

“Those are perfect!”

“You can have them on the condition that you still come and get coffee occasionally.”

“Deal! I’m going to go to MSST so I’ll still come by!”

“Then the boxes are all yours.” She hands them to you and Happy offers to take them from you. Marcie looks at him with confusion but you wave it off.

“Thanks Marcie!” You say before returning to the table where Pepper sits.

“I’ll bring the car up,” Happy says. “Be back in five minutes.”

“Thanks Happy.” Pepper says as Happy takes the boxes with him as he leaves the shop.

“You seem to know all the people at your favorite shops.” Pepper comments.

“New York is more like a small town when you think about it. We all go to the same businesses over and over again. Why shouldn’t we know the people who’s shops we frequent?” You shrug. “Plus Marcie is the best person to get boxes from when you have to move buildings. Then you don’t have to pay for them.” Pepper and you both drink your cold beverages as you sit waiting for Happy.

“Have you ever traveled anywhere?” Pepper asks, wanting to get to know you better. You shake your head.

“I’ve uh never left New York. We never really had the money.” You glance out the window. “I don’t even have a state ID, much less a passport.”

“Well we can get you an ID sweetheart, that’s easy. And knowing your dad, he’ll want to get you a passport since deciding to take last minute trips is one of his favorite things. But if you could go anywhere, where would you want to go?”

“You’re not going to like plan a trip, right? Because you’ve spent plenty-”

“Y/N, I just want to get to know you. Now if Tony asks you, I would answer on the bet that he wants to take you wherever you answer.”

“The kid in me wants to say Disney World because who doesn’t want to go. But I think the actual answer would be the Grand Canyon. I’ve always wanted to see if it’s as big as it looks in pictures. And the third choice would be London. So many writers lived there and I want to see what inspires them to write the way they do.” You look back at your coffee. “I’m not the best at picking just one place.”

“Never said you had too.” Pepper says, trying to catch your eyes. “I think all three are wonderful ideas. Maybe we should go there, but leave Tony at home to finish the deadlines he never touches.” You look up at her with surprised eyes. “Ok, maybe he can finish them before the trips and then come along because if I steal his kid for that long, I’ll never hear the end of it. He might take my job away for stealing you for that long, if it didn’t mean he would have to start doing work again.”

“Really?”

“You’re all he talks about these days. And I don’t see that stopping anytime soon. He’s not someone that’s easy to get to know. And I would say he’s definitely an acquired taste, but once he’s in your corner, having Tony Stark have your back is sometimes greater than having Iron Man. I hope you get to learn that. Because I know he desperately wants to show you how much he already loves you.”

“But he barely knows me.”

“There’s this thing about being a parent, so I’ve heard, where you love your kid so much from the moment they enter your life. That’s how he feels, and how he’s felt about you since the moment he saw you for the first time. Every night since you entered his life he said to me ‘God Pep, I didn’t know I could love a kid so much.’ And I don’t see that stopping anytime soon.”

“But I’ve kind of treated him like garbage?”

“And you think you’re the first teenager to ever say things to their parents like that? You have a better excuse than most though. Most aren’t thrust into having parents as late into life as you were, but you’re dealing with a lot. Most people also aren’t dealing with having Tony as a father. I give you props for that alone.”

“You’re the one dating him.”

“Yes but that’s different.” Happy pulls up outside the coffee shop. “Come on. We have all the time in the world to debate who has it worse in regards to Tony.” Pepper teases you. You turn and wave to Marcie.

“Bye Marcie!”

“Good luck with the move!” She waves before returning to the order she’s in the middle of taking. You follow Pepper towards the car and climb into the backseat. Happy drives you towards the apartment he had taken-picked you up from less than a week from.

“Would you feel more comfortable if I stay in the car?” Pepper asks as you pull up and Happy puts the car in park. If it was Tony, yes. But you like Pepper. You want her to see the place that you think of as home so you shake your head.

“Plus I want you to meet my Nana and Pops.” You swing the door open before Happy even has a chance to open the door for you. You’re too excited to see Nana and Pops. Usually you would just run up the six flights of stairs to the apartment, but you’re not going to subject Pepper and Happy to that just because you don’t want to wait for the slow elevator. So instead you bounce on the balls of your feet as you wait for the elevator. If not for your fear of elevators dropping, you would have continued bouncing the rest of the way up. But finally, finally, the elevator arrives and you count the three doors as you pass towards home. It’s weird to not have your key so you knock on the door.

“I’m coming, I’m coming.” You hear your Pops voice and you could almost cry. He opens the door and you don’t wait a moment before flying into his arms. “Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” He pulls you away to say something, probably like ‘there’s no way you’re my granddaughter. You’ve gotten too big,’ but you push against his arms to wrap your arms around him again. “I’m right here. Not going anywhere. I got you.”

“Who’s at the door Lou?” Your Nana calls and it sounds just like coming home now.

“It’s me Nana.” You say even though the sound is muffled by your Pops’ chest.

“Is that you babydoll? What are you doing here?” Your Nana rounds the corner and then you're out of your Pops’ arms and into her’s.

“We’re sorry to just surprise you. But we were in the area and Y/N has been missing you.”

“Never apologize for bringing her ho- to visit.” Your Pops voice is a little rougher than normal. “You must be Pepper Potts.”

“Yes, nice to meet you. And this is Happy, or um Harold Hogan, our head of security.” In the back of your mind you place the fact that Happy’s real name is Harold of all things, but right now you’re too focused on the fact that you’re home. “Y/N also needs to get a few more clothes and things so Happy has some boxes for her to put some stuff in.”

“That’s fine. She’s always welcome to come and get things. This may not be as fancy as where she lives now, but it will never stop being her home.” Pops voice rings out and Pepper can feel that he’s not welcoming them in like he welcomes you.

“Pepper, will you come help me get the stuff in my room?” You ask. You know Pops probably isn’t happy with the way things are working out either, but leaving Happy, he can at least go over the security plan or something. Leaving Pepper seems just mean after how nice she’s been to you today.

“Sure honey.” Pepper smiles at you. She follows you down the hallway to the door where your name is printed in block letters on a piece of computer paper. “I like this.”

“Thanks, Betty made it for me.” You pull it off the door. “Do you think I can hang it on my door at the Tower?” Pepper nods.

“If you want to, I don’t see why you can’t.” You open the door and Pepper follows you into the room that is about a quarter of the size of your room at the Tower, yet feels more at home than the Tower. “So what is coming with this time?” Pepper knows that at least with most of the books and if you want any of the furniture, they are going to have to get a few men to move it.

“I’m thinking mostly clothing and maybe some of my books. Not all of them, but at least a few of them. Oh and there’s a blanket I’ve been missing.” You walk over to the dresser in the corner and open the bottom two drawers, which are filled with mostly distressed jeans and shorts. “All of these.” You say with a laugh.

“How about I work on putting those in this box while you get the blanket and pick out some books?” Pepper suggests. You shrug, it sounds like a good enough plan. Walking over to your shelf, you have to stop yourself from calling out to JARVIS to ask him to put on music and instead pull your phone and put on your playlist instead. Have you really gotten that used to living at the tower? Before you can get to the shelf, you spy the quilt you want sticking out from the under bed boxes.

You pull it out and hold it close. Part of you wants to unwrap it and drape it around your shoulders, but you know that you’d be wasting precious time doing that. So instead you trace your fingers over the different triangles of fabric. Pepper looks up and sees what you’re looking at. “Is this the blanket you were missing?” You nod and she comes to take a seat next to you on the twin bed that you grew up in. “It’s beautiful. Was it handmade?” Pepper asks, but doesn’t make a move to touch it since it’s clearly special to you.

“My, uh, mom made it.” With everything that has happened in the last week, Pepper hasn’t actually heard anything about your mom besides Tony talking about how your mom was a one night stand. “She was in a recovery program the first three months after I was born to try and get her recovered. Alcohol and drugs. Part of her recovery was making this quilt. Something to focus on as she went through withdrawal. It’s part of the reason I was placed with my grandparents. I was born two and a half months early and addicted to crack. So she wasn’t that fit of a parent. But they hoped that with rehab she would get better and come home. It, um, didn’t work like they hoped. She relapsed and they found her on the streets six months later dead of an overdose.” You don’t look up as you trace your favorite triangle, the peach colored one. “This is the only thing I have of her. I’d like to think she made it for me, but I think I know deep down, she only made it because the program made her.”

“She would have been lucky to know you.” Pepper says, wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

“But she didn’t so…” You trail off. “But I have Nana and Pops. And I have Tony now. And I guess you and the Avengers too.”

“You got bonus family galore.” Pepper holds you close. “I got you and I’m not letting go.” She whispers into your hair as she places a kiss there.

“Thanks Pepper.” You lean into her side, before placing the quilt into the box at your feet. “I’m glad you got me.” You admit.

It doesn’t take much longer to pack up the clothes and books you want from the room you love. There’s still other things you’ll need to come back for, but you can do that another day. You have the things you need to get you through at least the beginning of school. Before you know it, Happy is taking the boxes down to the car and you’re wrapped up in your grandparents’ arms once again. “You’re welcome anytime babygirl. You have your key for that reason.” Your Nana says into your hair.

“I know Nana.”

“And if you need a break, you come on over. Being Stark’s daughter isn’t the end all be all.” Pops’ voice is aimed more at Pepper than at you, but you nod.

“I know Pop.” You kiss both their cheeks. “I love you both. So much.”

“We love you too babygirl. Always have, always will.” Your Nana runs a hand through your hair. “Get going. You probably have big fancy plans for the day.”

“Still the same girl you know.” You say as you walk towards where Pepper stands. You follow her towards the door, but take one more look at your grandparents before you both start making your way downstairs. As you get outside, Pepper looks at you.

“Do you want to do more thrifting and mani/pedis or you want to call it a day? You still have next weekend? We can always do more back to school stuff then.”

“Do you mind if we don’t? I’m kind of exhausted.”

“I wouldn’t have offered if I did. Plus we can order food to the Tower and maybe watch a movie or something instead. Calm night instead.”

“That sounds awesome.” You say as Happy starts the drive back to the Tower. Going back to Manhattan took a little longer than normal, just because of the time of day. You scroll through social media, trying to take in your last day as Y/N Y/L/N. Tomorrow the news breaks about you being Tony’s daughter, so you’ll take the calm before the storm. Pepper is reading over things on her own phone, probably SI stuff if you had to guess. “Pepper?”

“Mmm-hmm?” She answers as she scrolls.

“Will the explosion from the news tomorrow be bad?” You ask before adding. “Like you dealt with when Tony announced he was Iron Man. Will this be that bad you think?” Pepper puts down her phone and looks at you.

“I don’t think this will be bad news. I think there will be questions, but that’s why SI has been putting together a lot of press packets for different situations. If the press tries to spin it in different ways, we will be ready. The most important thing we have stated in all of this, is that while Tony didn’t know about you until recently, he is very happy to be your father and he is doing everything in his power to provide the best home for you.” Pepper pauses looking for signs from you on which way you were feeling. “For now, how you feel about everything is going to stay silent because of your age and such, but eventually, if you feel up for it, we’d love to publish something about you and your dad together.”

“Why about me?”

“Because the public will want to know, but also because you are one day possibly going to be a face of SI. If that’s the path you wish to take. Again this isn’t a decision you have to make anytime soon. Right now, the focus is keeping you out of the press as much as possible.” Happy pulls into the garage as Pepper says all of this. “But I think the public is just going to be interested in learning about who you are because you are an extension of Tony and they like knowing about him.”

“I can understand that. But I don’t even feel like I know him all that well yet.”

“You will in time. I promise.” Pepper says as she walks with you towards the elevator you had left only a few hours earlier. You had grabbed the clothes from Bayside, but Happy said he would get the boxes and take them to your room for you. Upon arriving to the living room, Tony is surprisingly waiting for you and Pepper.

“My two favorite ladies, back already.”

“Finished early. Figured we could do a night in instead.” Pepper explains as Tony gives her a kiss on the cheek.

“Did you have a good day kiddo?” Tony looks towards you and you nod before turning to Pepper.

“Thanks Pepper.” You say before giving her a quick hug. “I had a lot of fun today.”

“Of course. I had fun with you too.” Pepper’s arms wrap around you, squeezing you back. And for a moment you can’t help but wonder if this is what it feels like to have a mom. Yours was out of your life moments after you were born. You let yourself relax in her arms for a moment before you feel Tony’s eyes on the two of you.

“Uh, I should go put these things away.” You pull away from Pepper and make your way towards your room, canvas bags in tow without saying anything to Tony.

“It’s not fair Pep.”

“What?”

“She hugs you.” Tony whines as he plops down on the couch. “All she does for me is make playlists called Tony Stark Can Rot. How is that fair?”

“Now how would you know what her playlists are called?”

“I asked JARVIS to play some of her music so I could know more about her since she refuses to hang out with me. He asked which playlist and started listing them. To be fair it has some great music on it. But still, I would never make a playlist called Y/N Stark Can Rot.”

“You don’t name your playlists.” Pepper points out.

“Not the point.”

“The point is you're jealous that she’s closing herself off to you.”

“Maybe I am. She’s my kid. I want to know her. I want to do everything for her and with her. But everything I try backfires.”

“So don’t try so hard.” Tony’s brows pull together as he looks up at Pepper. “You suggested her friends coming over for dinner and that worked really well.”

“Yeah worked really well in that she told me about a teacher that hated her enough to throw scissors at her.”

“She also acknowledged that you’re going to be here for her from now on. That’s a success. So try doing small things like that. Don’t make huge gestures. Don’t you dare buy her a gigantic bunny. Try to let her get to know you. And don’t try to buy your way into her life. She hates that.”

“You literally took her shopping today.”

“We went thrifting.”

“What? All of that needs to be washed immediately!” Tony starts freaking out.

“This right here?” Pepper motions towards him, “This is the kind of reaction that will push her farther away. She loves thrift shops. She told me and we went to her favorite ones to look for clothes. She opened up about her life before us Tony. That picture on your phone. That’s a moment she shared with Natasha. You need to give her a moment to open up to you.” Tony notices Happy walking by with a couple of boxes.

“What all did you buy her today?”

“We stopped by her grandparents’ house so she could pick up some more stuff. She mentioned she was getting low on some stuff.” Pepper motions towards what Happy is carrying. “She really misses them. I think we need to give her time to see them too.”

“I’m not keeping her from them.”

“I’m not saying you are. I’m saying I think we should schedule times so she doesn’t feel that way. Also I told her that SI would start a charity fund to fight the cost of insulin.”

“Not against that but why?”

“She was feeling really uncomfortable about how comfortable we all spend on a day to day, based on her background with money.” Pepper says, not really explaining.

“That tells me less than nothing.”

“It’s her story to share. You’ll have to wait until she wants to share it with you.” Pepper kisses his cheek. “But you have an amazing kid.”

“I know that. I just want to know her like all of you know her.” Tony says frustrated.

“Give her time.”

Permanent tag list: @wormonastringonastick

Becoming A Stark Tag list: @persephonehemingway @iamaunicorn4704 @furiouspockettoad @daughter-of-stark @eternalharry @huntective-kyeo @riiis-stuff

#peter parker #peter parker x stark!reader #Pepper Potts #peter parker x reader #peter parker fan fiction #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fan fic #peter parker fanfic #Tony Stark #tony stark can't be dead if you just don't let yourself believe it #tony stark daughter #tony stark x daughter!reader #tony stark x daughter!you #imanativeofswlondondahling #becoming a stark?#happy hogan

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argylemnwrites · 4 years

Text

Change of Plans - Part 3

Pairing: Drake Walker x MC (Riley Liu)

Book: The Royal Romance (An It Couldn’t Wait Another Moment universe AU, set nearly 3 years after that epilogue)

Word Count: ~4700

Rating: NC-17 (language, 30 diamond scene)

Summary: Living in NYC in March 2020 is redefining normal for Drake and Riley. Life doesn’t always go according to plan during a pandemic, after all.

Author’s Note: Finally finished up the third and final installment of my AU inside my AU. Sorry the word count got away from me a bit here, but hopefully you all like this conclusion to the journey even further into the real world for these two. (I might have fallen in love with this version more than my planned version... oops)

Just like parts 1 and 2, this does hint at or reference some events from the prologue and the first couple of chapters of Why Are We Still Waiting?, but it does not spoil the core content of the story. And again, Trigger warning for coronavirus discussions. Also, explicit adult content in this part.

Part of Drake couldn’t quite believe that today was actually real. It felt sort of surreal still, even though he had the marriage certificate in his hand and was wearing a ring on his finger. Even though the officiant’s words still ran through his mind, pronouncing them married. It felt too much like a dream. But they were married. She was his wife.

They were in their cab, back to their apartment. Obviously, no reception. No bars or restaurants were even open, except for takeout. But that was alright. Being married to her, that was what mattered. Who really cared if it didn’t happen as they planned?

“So, for our honeymoon, what do you think about Brooklyn?” Riley asked, settling in under the arm he’d thrown across her shoulders after giving the driver their address.

Drake chuckled, “Sounds great. You have a place in mind?”

“Yup! I found this little one bedroom apartment with absolutely no amenities, but it does come with a corgi.”

“Perfect. Hopefully it comes with the opportunity for digital filing of cases, because that’s what I really want to do.”

“But you finished your work for today, right?”

Drake nodded. It had been a pain in the ass, but he’d been able to take care of enough between last night and this morning that he would probably not draw attention to the fact that he’d taken this afternoon off. It had seemed stupid to tell his supervisor his plan when he’d been able to get the work done. The firm might be letting people work from home, but that didn’t change the fact that the leadership on his team was a bunch of frat bro assholes that would have absolutely made him use a half day of vacation.

“Good,” she said, turning her head and leaning over slightly so that her lips were practically on his ear, “I’ve got plans for you.”

Drake swallowed roughly, sparing a quick glance towards the cab driver before turning his head and kissing her. The only thing hotter than the promise her words held was the fact that she was now saying them as his wife.

After a few moments, Drake pulled back, not wanting to make the driver too uncomfortable, but Riley tugged him down again, deepening the kiss slightly. However, after several seconds, a loud buzzing sound interrupted them. Riley leaned back slightly, pulling her phone out of her purse.

“What the hell?” she said as she unlocked her phone. “I have six texts from Maxwell. Wait - seven.”

Drake watched her open up her messaging app, and she let out a big sigh almost instantly. She quickly titled her phone so he could read the screen.

😲😃😭🤗😤🥳

That’s all my feelings

Because

OMG

YOU GUYS GOT MARRIED

YAY!!! 👰🤵🥂

WITHOUT ME

BOO!!!! 😡👎👿

Drake glanced up from her phone, “How does he know?” They had decided it was better to tell Liam and Iris, Hana and Catherine, and Maxwell, Savannah, Bertrand, and the kids at the same time, and since they had plans for a Zoom call this weekend, that had seemed like the perfect opportunity. No hurt feelings at being the last to know, no guilt trips from Maxwell, and no judgement from his sister for eloping. However, Maxwell had apparently found out within 15 minutes of the ceremony.

“I have no idea how he-” Riley started, but stopped abruptly, “Shit. Give me your phone.”

“Why?”

“I want to check if Daniel posted our photos to Pictagram.”

“Liu, I don’t have Pictagram.”

“Yes, you do. Maxwell and I set that up for you like a year ago.”

“Yeah… I deleted it as soon as he left town.”

Riley rolled her eyes at him, but closed out her message thread with Maxwell and opened up her Pictagram account. Sure enough @liuthebagelbitch and @dw519 were tagged in numerous photos in Daniel’s account and story. Them signing the paperwork. Sitting on the couch waiting. Holding hands and saying vows. Putting on their rings. Kissing at the end of the ceremony.

“Maxwell must follow Daniel,” Riley said, scrolling through the feed, “Yup, squidwiththemoves has liked every single photo.” She sighed, exiting the app. “And he’s texted me ten more times. We have to call him.”

Drake nodded, but before Riley could even open her contacts list, a Facetime request popped up from Maxwell Beaumont. Letting out one last sigh, Riley swiped to accept the call.

“Hey Maxwell!”

“What the hell? I’ve been working on my speech for your ceremony for years, Riley!”

“Wanna try that again?” Riley asked, raising her eyebrows expectantly.

Maxwell sighed, “I mean, congratulations! I’m so happy you decided to get married without telling me or inviting me.”

“Oh, I’m sorry we didn’t consider you in our wedding,” Drake called out, leaning into the view of the camera and rolling his eyes.

“Drake! How could you do this to me, buddy?”

“Do you really want me to answer that question, buddy?”

Riley elbowed him slightly, probably wanting him to not escalate the situation. Truth be told, Drake was only mildly annoyed at Maxwell making their wedding all about him. The bigger issue was going to be getting Maxwell to keep quiet about it until Sunday. That was basically four full days from now, and Maxwell had barely been able to contain himself back when he found out that he and Riley were involved for half that time.

“Sorry, Maxwell. But we didn’t want to wait again. Plus, I lost my health insurance, so now I’m able to go on Drake’s.”

“Why didn’t you guys tell me, though?”

“Because we wanted to keep this quiet and not make it everyone else’s business,” Drake grumbled.

“And,” Riley added, shooting him a look before she continued, “we were planning to tell all you guys together on Sunday.”

“I just can’t believe I wasn’t there,” Maxwell said, shaking his head sadly.

“We wish you could have been. We really do. But you understand why that wasn’t an option, right?”

Maxwell nodded. “Yeah, I get it.”

“And do you think you could not mention it to anyone before we see everyone on Sunday?”

There was a long pause following Riley’s question before Maxwell responded, “I promise not to tell anyone else.”

“Maxwell… who have you told already?” Drake asked, the word ‘else’ jumping out in his mind.

“Not that many, people I swear!”

“Well, I just got a ‘congratulations’ text with several question marks from Hana,” said Riley, glancing at the notification that had flashed across the top of her screen.

“I had to find out if you had told her and not me!” Maxwell said, gesturing towards the screen emphatically with his free hand.

“And Iris just asked me if what she’s seeing is real,” Riley continued as another notification popped up.

“I wanted to make sure she wasn’t more looped in that I was!”

“And now Savannah’s asking if I really married her brother today.”

“Wait, why is my sister texting you and not me?” Drake asked as Maxwell continued his defense, saying “I mean, we live under the same roof, so of course I asked her what she knew.”

“Maxwell, is there anyone you didn’t tell?” Riley asked, shaking her head.

“Well, Liam didn’t answer my calls, so he probably doesn’t know.”

“You told Iris!”

“Yeah, okay… fair,” Maxwell trailed off, clearly trying to find someone he hadn’t told. “This really isn’t my fault, though! You posted those pictures!”

“Daniel was our witness and photographer. He’s the one who posted them.”

“Well, then blame him. I just acted the way any normal person in my position would have acted.”

“Wanna try that again?” asked Drake, prompting a chuckle from Riley.

“Fine, I just acted in a way that you guys should have totally predicted. In fact, part of me wonders if you wanted me to find out so that I would tell everyone, and you wouldn’t have to deal with the drama of telling them that you got married without them.”

“Maxwell!”

“Fine, I’ll let you go be nauseating newlyweds. Congrats, you two!” With a little wave, Maxwell ended the call.

“Well, I guess people know,” said Riley after a moment.

Drake let out a sigh, tipping his head back against the top of the seat.

“You aren’t really upset, are you? I mean, I know we decided to tell everyone at once, but it’s not such a big deal that they know, is it?”

“Nah, it’s just annoying that instead of this just being our thing for now, we’re gonna spend our entire wedding night on the phone with people.”

Riley let out a little burst of laughter at that, so Drake twisted his neck to glance at her. “What?” he asked.

“I think you are severely overestimating how many close friends we have. I bet we can finish this up before we even get back to our place.”

“Really.”

“You take Liam and Iris; I’ll take Hana and Catherine. All our New York friends can wait, don’t you think?”

“What about Savannah?”

Riley paused for just a moment, “We can set up a video call with her and your mother tomorrow.”

“But she lives with Maxwell. She knows that-”

“She owes us our wedding day, Drake.”

Drake nodded. As much as he wished that Riley and his sister got along perfectly, he knew that Riley had a good point there.

“So, I’m gonna call Hana. If you give Liam a call now, it can just be our time when we get home.”

She didn’t have to tell him twice, so as she tapped Hana in her contact list, he unlocked his phone and scrolled to Liam in his recent contacts. The phone only rang twice before Liam answered.

“Yes, Iris. I see. Please let me actually talk to him, love?” Liam asked, his voice muffled and quiet initially before growing much louder. “Drake, I’m glad you called. You are apparently the source of great excitement here tonight.”

“Yeah… I didn’t mean to be-”

“Well, you are, my friend. Between my three missed calls from Maxwell about, and I quote ‘something that I probably wouldn’t consider an emergency, but he sure did’ and Iris bursting into my office with pictures of Riley and you pulled up on her phone, I’ve not been able to get very far in reviewing my nightly briefings.”

“Sorry about that. But, I… er, do have some news.”

“So I am gathering. It appears congratulations are in order,” Liam said. In the background, Drake heard a quieter “Congrats, you two,” that presumably came from Iris.

“Uhh, yeah. We decided to get married.”

“I’m guessing this was Riley’s idea?”

“What makes you say that?”

“She’s just a touch more prone to impulsive action than you.”

“Well, you’re wrong this time.”

“This was you?” The shock was evident in Liam’s voice, and it did bring a smile to Drake’s face. It wasn’t often that Drake was able to surprise him.

“It was.”

“Congratulations, Drake,” Liam replied after a moment, “I’m truly very happy for both of you.”

“Sorry we didn’t-”

“No. I’m happy for you. I’m not accepting any apologies as there is nothing that happened today for which you should feel even remotely sorry.”

“Thanks, Liam.”

“Can I talk to Riley?”

Drake glanced over at Riley, “She’s on the phone with Hana,” but she held up one finger and then held her free hand open, “but I think she’s about to wrap up and wants to talk to you, too.” Riley nodded in agreement.

“Excellent. And I mean it Drake, I know how much this means to both of you. So, truly, I wish you congratulations and nothing but happiness.”

Feeling a lump in his throat, Drake swallowed roughly. But before he could process the words of his oldest and dearest friend, Riley was snatching his phone out of his hand and passing her phone to him.

Hana and Catherine wished him brief, but heartfelt congratulations, but Riley was still on the phone with Liam after he said goodbye to them. He could only really hear her half of the conversation, and she wasn’t saying much, mainly listening to him apparently. Every so often, she would throw in an “of course” or “you know I will,” but other than a few chuckles, she was largely silent. Every so often, he would catch a word or two from Liam, but their conversation was basically a mystery to him.

It was a little strange, to think about how a couple of years ago, having to sit as an outsider while Liam and Riley shared something private would have filled him with a mix of jealousy and guilt and anger. Now, it was certainly a bit odd that his best friend seemed to have more to say to his… his wife than he did to him, but it wasn’t a bad feeling, necessarily. If anything, he was mostly curious, with just a bit of fear about what tales from their youth and adolescence he could be telling her. Those stories would require more explanations than he wanted to give tonight.

Eventually, the cab stopped in front of their building. As Drake paid their fare, Riley wrapped up the call with Liam.

“Thanks, Liam. We’re actually home now… Yeah, I know… You too. Stay safe, and we’ll talk to you guys in a few days.”

“What was that about?” Drake asked as Riley ducked under his arm as he opened the door to their building.

“Oh, he just had a lot of really mushy things to say about you.”

“I’m serious, Liu.”

“I wasn’t kidding. I think he basically gave me his best man speech just now,” she said with a shrug as she unlocked the door from the mailroom and started up the stairs to the second floor, “He just wanted to make sure I knew how lucky I was, I think.”

“Well, that’s fucking dumb. I’m the lucky one here.”

“This has all the markings of going on for a while. Why don’t we just agree that we’re both mad lucky and call it even?” Riley called over her shoulder as she walked down the hallway and pulled her keys out of her purse.

“Wait! I’m supposed to carry you through, right?” Drake remembered as Riley moved to push open the door.

She let out a little chuckle and rolled her eyes, but stood there expectantly, so Drake stepped up and scooped her into his arms, sliding one hand forward to turn the knob and open their door. Anderson came trotting over, eager to see his two humans, while Drake placed Riley down close to the door, not wanting to track their shoes and jackets too far into the apartment.

“He could probably use a walk,” Drake said, “and we should probably shower after spending hours out in public. How about I take him while you get started since washing your hair is always a… process.”

Riley swatted his chest lightly, but nodded in agreement. “You’ll join me when you get back?”

“Absolutely.”

Anderson took care of his business quickly, so it wasn’t too long before Drake was back in their apartment, hanging his sport coat up next to Riley’s jacket and kicking off his shoes. After washing his hands, he made his way into their bathroom, where the shower was running. The steam was already starting to get thick in the room, and eager to get out of his clothes and to join her, Drake quickly moved to drop his shirt on top of the pile of clothing she’d left next to the sink, but a scrap of tan lace caught his eye.

“I knew you were bluffing!” he called out as he fully removed his shirt and started undoing his belt and jeans.

“Huh?” asked Riley, peeking her head out from behind the shower curtain.

“About not wearing underwear. I knew you were full of shit,” Drake said as he stepped out of his pants and boxers, kicking them on top of the pile before climbing into the tub and under the water, sliding his hands into her long, black hair, somehow even darker now that it was wet, as she placed her chin against his chest and her hands on his hips, turning her face up towards his with a playful little smile.

He dropped his head to hers, pulling her into a passionate kiss, trailing his hands through her hair and down to her back. After a few moments, she tilted her head back. “As much as I like where this is headed, we should actually probably shower and not get too distracted,” she teased, trailing her hands around and squeezing his ass with a wink before she ducked past him and started rinsing out her hair. “Besides,” she added, “our track record for shower sex is not great.”

Drake couldn’t help but laugh as he opened up his bottle of shampoo and started lathering up his hair. Something about the floor of this tub was extra slippery, as they had learned the hard way not long after they moved in and then foolishly required repeat lessons about at numerous times. The worst was the time that he’d needed three stitches behind his ear after colliding with the tap as he fell backward, but the time Riley nearly dislocated her shoulder was a close second. “Yeah, a trip to urgent care would be pretty far from ideal at this point,” he said as he dropped a kiss to her forehead.

And so they both showered, trying to keep any touches light and loving, not wanting things to escalate just yet, but the sight of Riley with water trailing all over her naked curves was obviously turning Drake on. Based on the way she dragged her hand across him as she reached for her body wash, she was feeling the same way. By the time she was rinsing off and stepping out of the shower, Drake was scrambling to finish up, wanting to join her as soon as possible.

When he finally turned off the water and stepped out, there she was, wrapped up in her lime green towel, working a comb through her hair. She smiled at him through the mirror, her skin still looking like it was almost glowing from the warmth and water. As he drew up behind her, he slid his hands around her waist and dropped his lips to her shoulder, prompting Riley to shake her head.

“Drake, at least let me finish working out the tangles,” she said before letting out a little sigh as he worked his way over to the side of her neck, biting down ever so lightly when he reached that spot that always drove her wild.

“Who cares?” Drake mumbled into her skin, working his fingers to gather up the towel and moving one hand to her now-exposed thigh, “You aren’t gonna be seeing anyone anyway.”

Riley shuddered, dropping her comb to the counter before snaking her hand behind his neck as he slid his fingers to her center, his touch still light and teasing. “Maybe I want to look good for my husband,” she sighed out, moving her other hand to the knotted portion of the towel across her chest.

Drake groaned. Was her statement supposed to slow him down? Because hearing the word ‘husband’ coming from her lips? Talking about him? Well, fuck. It turned him on even more. Riley had to know what that sentence would do to him, right? So, he increased the pressure of his fingers, stroking her in the way he knew she loved before sliding a finger inside her. The angle wasn’t perfect, but he could feel her arousal and the fact that she practically growled “Fuck” as she clawed her fingernails into his neck seemed to indicate that she was just as ready to keep going as he was.

After a few moments, Drake stilled his motion when Riley grabbed his wrist. She spun, letting the towel fall to the ground and hopped up onto the small counter. She tugged him between her legs, but Drake shook his head.

“Our bed is just a few feet away,” he protested as Riley wrapped her hand around him, causing him to question why he was trying to change anything going on here.

“But it’s nice and warm in here,” she responded, dropping kisses along his jaw, “and I’ve never been good at waiting, Drake. We can be all tender and gentle later. For now, I just want you to fuck your wife.” She punctuated the last words by biting down lightly on his earlobe. Letting out a groan, he brushed her hand away and lined himself up, sinking into her. He hadn’t wanted their first time as a married couple to feel like some frantic quickie, but it had always been nearly impossible for him to deny her anything. So he started rocking his hips into her, reveling in the feel of her around him. The scrape of her nails along his shoulders. Her breath across his cheek.

As he shifted his stance slightly to fill her an angle he knew would be better for her, he caught a glimpse of their reflection in the mirror. There it was, a gold band on his ring finger, resting along her spine. It was almost hard to look away, so he just kept staring at it, soaking in the sight that proved they were married. It mixed with the feel of her hands digging into his skin and her legs hooked around his back, the sound of her breathy sighs and whispered “fucks,” the taste of her skin of her neck, and the smell of her peach body wash, spurring him on and increasing his pleasure.

Sensing that he was heading towards his peak a little quicker than she was, he tore his left hand off her back, sliding it between their bodies. He glanced down to where they were joined, his thumb circling roughly right above that, his ring pressed against the skin of the thigh he clutched. He slammed his eyes shut and dropped his face into the crook of her neck, not needing any additional stimulation. But soon, he felt Riley’s leg clench around him a little more.

“Are you close?” he murmured into her ear.

“Yes,” she moaned out, arching her back slightly. He wasn’t sure if she was specifically answering his question or not, but her response was enough of an answer regardless. Picking up his pace, Drake stroked his thumb harder. He knew he was seconds away from release when he felt her clench around him. He barely was able to recognize her climax before he shattered, spilling into her as he groaned into her skin.

After a few breathless moments, Drake felt his awareness returning. He slid out of her and shifted up, reaching behind her for a washcloth off the rack, dropping a kiss along her cheek as he stood up fully and helped her off the counter.

He wanted to tell how much he loved her. How much he would always love her. How he would always try to prevent her from ever regretting today. But any words he could think of didn’t feel like they were enough to actually describe his feelings, so he settled for gentle caresses and light kisses as they got cleaned up. Before they moved to go to their bedroom to get dressed, Drake grabbed her wrist and tugged her back to him, kissing her deeply.

“I’ll make us something nice for dinner, Liu. Okay?” he said as he pulled back, running his hand through her wet hair.

She nodded and gave him a bright smile before responding, “And I have an idea for dessert.”

He raised an eyebrow at that, “You have an idea in the kitchen?”

Riley just shook her head. “Yes, you ass. And not only will I not mess it up, but I know you’ll like it.”

Dinner was a quiet affair, Riley having thrown on some acoustic cover songs in the background and lighting a couple of candles they had leftover from their Valentine’s dinner while Drake cooked up a couple of steaks, some roasted potatoes, and some sauteed frozen squash. It wasn’t a perfect meal, but he thought he’d done a decent job finding something special for them out of their stock. He’d been surprised when Riley had set their glasses of whiskey on the coffee table instead of their dining table, but he got it once she’d tucked her legs under herself and curled up against his side on the couch. It was cozy and warm and intimate and felt right for the way they’d gotten married.

After they finished eating, Drake started loading the dishwasher and soaking the pans while Riley dug around in the tall cupboard they used as their pantry and then pulled something out of the fridge.

“You better not be baking something,” Drake told her over his shoulder, “Eggs are too hard to find these days to use them in a kitchen adventure of yours,” chuckling lightly as he felt a towel whip between his shoulder blades.

“If you’re done being a smart ass, I’m ready for you.”

Drake shut off the faucet and turned to face her, a smile slipping onto his face as he took in the graham crackers, marshmallows, and chocolate bars on the counter.

“I know it’s not exactly a wedding cake, but I figured we could do s’mores over the stove,” she said, settling in next to him.

“It’s perfect, Riley,” he said, slipping his hand into hers as he noticed an apple sitting off to the side, “but why the apple?”

“Oh, well I thought we could still do the apple-cutting,” she said with a little shrug, placing her chin against his shoulder, “I mean, I wasn’t sure if someone else needed to be there for this tradition or not, but I just thought it might be nice.”

Drake squeezed her hand, grabbing a knife out of the block and handing it to her. That she had remembered the one Cordonian wedding tradition he’d mentioned incorporating into their reception and thought to do it today was so perfectly her. Not snarky her, when she was annoyed at others or the world or at him. Not playful her, who would tease and laugh and lighten the room. But thoughtful her, who saw forgotten and neglected and broken people and made sure that at least for a moment, they felt seen and heard.

“So, just carve your initials,” Drake instructed, reluctantly dropping her hand so she could pick up the apple.

“Old or new?”

“What?”

“My old initials or my new initials?”

The weight of the day hit him again. Maybe this wasn’t the wedding they’d planned, but it was still their day. Their commitment. Their promise. And that meant more than having Maxwell as the officiant or getting married where his parents did or hearing toasts from Liam or Hana ever could. Watching the woman he’d loved for years, who he knew he’d love for all the years ahead, carve “RW” into that apple was plenty special.

He knew Riley could read him and his mood. She had always been good at that even before they lived together, so it didn’t surprise him that she kept quiet as he carved his own initials into the apple, then cut out a slice for them to share. She had to know he was dangerously close to being overwhelmed, so she didn’t push, just ate her portion of the apple before taking a step to the side and lighting one of the burners. After spearing a couple of marshmallows onto two forks, she grabbed his hand and pulled him over to the stove with her. They toasted their marshmallows without saying anything and without letting go. They were ready to face the good and the bad, together and united. The world was changing, but their world felt steady and sure.

Permatag: @ravenpuff02 @octobereighth @drakewalker04 @kimmiedoo5 @speedyoperarascalparty @mfackenthal @lilyofchoices @thequeenofcronuts @jamesashtonisbae

The Royal Romance/The Royal Heir: @kingliam2019 @sirbeepsalot @texaskitten30 @princessleac1 @ladyangel70 @dcbbw @yaushie

Drake x MC only: @jovialyouthmusic @iplaydrake @gibbles82 @drakewalkerisreal @riley--walker @notoriouscs @butindeed @axwalker @drakesensworld

It Couldn’t Wait Another Moment: @wickedgypsymoon @thesumofmychoices @cosigottahavefaith @thequeenchoices @katedrakeohd @feartheendlesssummer @ao719 @ooo-barff-ooo @sunnyxdazed

Change of Plans: @drakeandcamilleofvaltoria @burnsoslow

#drake walker #drake x mc #trr fanfic #trr au #trr au fanfic #tw: coronavirus #n*sfw #30 diamonds

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elinakazan · 4 years

Text

( ANNIE MURPHY + CIS FEMALE ) — Have you seen ELINA KAZAN? This THIRTY-FOUR year old is an ART CURATOR who resides in BROOKLYN. SHE has been living in NYC for FOUR MONTHS, and is known to be CREATIVE and CAREFREE, but can also be QUIXOTIC and DRAMATIC, if you cross them. People tend to associate them with HIGHLIGHTED PASSAGES IN A BOOK and PAINT-SPLATTERED CLOTHES | @codstarters

hiya! my name’s ella. i’m SO excited to be here and bring elina to this amazing roleplay. i can’t wait to interact with all of you! so please hmu if you’d like to plot!

. basic information

NAME: elina thisbe kazan

NICKNAME: el, ellie, lina

GENDER: cis female

PLACE OF BIRTH: victoria, british columbia, canada

HOMETOWN: birmingham, england

DATE OF BIRTH: april 26, 1986

AGE: thirty-four

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: bisexual

OCCUPATION: art curator at the moma

BOROUGH: brooklyn

. background

tw: cheating

Not much is known about Elina's biological parents. Her story is no much different than those of many children in the foster system: parents who were too young to raise a kid. She was born in Victoria, British Columbia, Canada. Although she still retains her Canadian citizenship, she does not remember much of her birthplace.

She was six months old when she was adopted by the Kazans. Both of them had immigrated to Canada ten years earlier. Her father, Estevan Kazan was a Greek citizen who moved to Canada to work on his Master's degree and her mother, Katina Trusova moved from Russia seeking a better life. By the time she was adopted, her parents had been married for five years and after several failed attempts to conceive, they decided to adopt. She does speak Greek and Russian fluently.

The Kazans lived in Vancouver for three years before Estevan was offered a job in Birmingham. The whole family relocated to England and a year later her parents adopted a baby boy and two years later a baby girl completed the family.

A happy and reckless child, Elina gave her parents several headaches. She had enough energy to light a city and no matter the number of extracurricular activities her parents enrolled her in, she simply couldn't stay still. Regardless of her endless vitality, Elina often gave nothing but satisfactions to her parents. The kind and bubbly girl turned over the years in a clever, outgoing and creative woman.

Elina never really had a plan, most of the time she just went along with the flow. One day she wanted to be an Olympic athlete and the next day she wanted to be a doctor. Her life aspirations were ever-changing. However, the only constant in her life was her love and passion for art, any kind of art. A dreamer per nature, Elina found solace in paintings, songs, films and books. They allowed her to travel to a different world and in the tough moments, art has always been there for her.

Loyal to her capricious nature, Elina tied the knot when she was just 18 years old. Harry Vandenberg was not a random choice. In fact, aside from art, he'd been the other constant in her life. Best friends since she moved to England, Elina swears that she knew she was going to marry him even at the tender age of three. It took years to go from strangers to friends to boyfriend and girlfriend and finally to husband and wife.

Elina started university shortly after the wedding. She decided to take a double program and she graduated with a Bachelor in History of Art and Classics from Oxford. While her academic life kept her busy, she often felt alone. Being in the army, Harry was often away. At first, she didn't mind the loneliness, but soon it started to take a toll on their relationship.

Throughout most of her life, Elina aimed to have a marriage like the one her parents had. In her eyes, they were the perfect couple until she found out it all had been a lie. Her parents divorce came out of nowhere but soon enough her mother explained everything. Her father had been cheating on her for the past fifteen years. Elina's whole world crumbled down upon hearing that and just like that her trust in those close to her was gone.

No one could be trusted. That was all she had taken from her parents' divorce and unfortunately she brought it into her marriage. Elina started to question Harry's faithfulness. Nothing he did or say could change her mind that her husband was not cheating. Without evidence she continued to accuse him and despite his best efforts to prove his innocence, their marriage came to and end. All those false allegations became a reality. She had pushed him away and turned him into a cheater.

Her heartache was enhanced when she saw Harry's face all over the news after his relationship with the princess came out. When it came to settle the divorce, Elina decided she didn't want anything, she just signed it and moved to Italy where she lived until four months ago.

Six months ago, she was offered her dream job: museum curator at the MOMA. She hesitated to take it since she knew Harry lived there and the last thing she wanted was to make everyone think that she was moving there for him but in the end, she couldn't deter her own dreams because of him. So, she took the job and relocated to New York four months ago. She got a nice place in Brooklyn and she hopes that the city is big enough to avoid running into her ex-husband.

. personality

Elina worships her freedom. She loves travel, adventure, meeting new people, and she longs to experience all of life. If she hates something in life that is routine. She doesn't want to lead a humdrum life and she is often doing a bunch of things as she is not tied down to one task. Her upbeat personality helps her to make friends easily and she often attracts people from all walks of life. She has a way with words and an uncanny ability to motivate others, she also loves to make people laugh and tends to be very sarcastic almost cynical. Honesty and loyalty are sacred to her and that can make her feel wary. She doesn't trust easily and chooses very careful who to trust. Elina is also an idealistic and a daydreamer. She is always in her own little world and she tends to get distracted easily.

. potential connections

siblings: she has two siblings, a brother (30) and a sister (28). they are also adopted (so the fc could be anyone). i imagine they have a good relationship, although maybe she could have had a fallout with one of them because they decided to take their father’s side in the divorce.

close friends: could be friends she made in england, italy or here in new york. she has plenty friends but this group is special because she trusts them which is a hard thing for her to do.

partner in crime: so elina is very spontaneous, they kind of person who rarely says no to adventure. unfortunately, not many people are like that but this person is just like her and they always say yes to all her plans.

art lovers: they run into each other at art galleries, exhibitions, open mics, museums, screenings, concerts, anything that involves art. so obviously they have the same interests, so they are each other art buddy.

university classmates/friends: she attended oxford for four years, then the royal academy of art and right now she’s doing a master’s at nyu.

before sunset plot: okay so she traveled a lot after her divorce, so i’d love a plot like the one in the movie, ya know, they met on a train and talked for hours, they walked around the cities and talked some more. there was a connection but then their ways had to be split.

unlikely friends: despite their differences they are friends. elina is very outgoing, reckless and impulsive while your character is the opposite of that.

fwb: since her divorce, elina hasn’t been in a serious relationship, however, this is the closest she has to one. they just fall in tune with the other. it’s easy, no strings attached. (m/f)

ex-flings: she probably has hooked up with a few people, it’s casual. (m/f)

tinder date: yeah she fell into the online dating world and let’s say it did NOT go well. it was akward but in a fun way. everything that could have gone wrong went wrong. it’s a fond memory but obviously there wasn’t a second date.

neighbours: people who live either in brooklyn or in her apartment complex.

OOOF ! okay, that’s all i have for now. i didn’t proofread this so excuse the lazy english but it’s 3 am here so my brain is dead. anyway, enough rambling. i’d loooove to plot with y’all so please like this or come and hit me up with plots. tumblr messages or discord, i’m game for anything!!! :D

#codintro #what a novel!#but plot with us pls #tw cheating

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anika-ann · 4 years

Text

Errare Humanum Est - Pt.11

Persona

Type: series, soulmate AU series (part 1, part 2) x Supernatural

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader (past?) Word count: 3400

Summary: Arrival to NYC is not what neither the Winchesters nor you expected. Like… not even in your wildest dreams.

Warnings: mentions of violence, blood and death, amnesia, swearing... that’s enough, I think, oh and confused Moose and Squirell (it’s a... reference)

Story masterlist

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Natasha slept like a baby – or like a dead. Sam didn’t find either of those options comforting. He couldn’t say he wasn’t glad Rowena had assisted them – but he would also be lying if he claimed to be happy about their particular ‘ally’ on this case.

While Dean’s eyes were glued to the road, Sam’s kept flickering between Natasha’s torso, always making sure she was still breathing, and his tablet, where he had started a search. Manhattan was surely a smaller place than the whole world, but it still had over million and half residents and finding Natasha’s soulmate wouldn’t be easy in the slightest.

He was still searching police databases for missing person cases and for house fires and gas explosions. The only problem was, he had no time frame to search – with Dean, it took three months for him to be resurrected and while his particular case had rather different circumstances (with angels having to fight their way through literal Hell and the whole Righteous Man versus apocalypse thing), Sam had no clue when exactly Natasha died.

It could have been the same day Castiel had brought her to them as well as months ago, years even. It wasn’t helping they still didn’t have her name and didn’t know the circumstances.

In other words, they didn’t have jack squat. Then again, Natasha believed her soulmate was a man, probably around her age – that would narrow down the search then. If they failed, they could always try to create her a tinder account and see who would super-like her.

Sam huffed in irritation and amusement, happy that Dean was pulling over. His legs might have been dying for the past few minutes.

“Where are we?” he hummed, cracking his neck.

Dean tuned down the volume before answering – and really, if the loud music hadn’t woken up Natasha, something must have been seriously wrong, Rowena’s magic messing her up on a level eleven on a ten points scale.

“Harrison, New Jersey. About an hour drive to Manhattan. Figured we would be no good in the overpriced hotels in the city, especially with her like this. Plus, I’m hungry,” Dean replied honestly and Sam raised one corner of his lips in a half-grin.

“Fair enough.” Dean opened the door, climbing up. Sam looked around, confused, not seeing any hotel, only a diner, and it got him get out of the car with an exasperated whisper-yell. “Where do you think you’re going? We can’t just leave her here!”

“Oh, we don’t. You’re staying, I’m getting food,” Dean grinned at him cockily, earning Sam’s famous ‘I’m-so-done-with-you-jerk’ face. “I might get you something too, Sammy.”

“Get something to Natasha too, in case she wakes up any time soon,” Sam growled, but obediently folded his long legs back to the car, casting a glance over his shoulder at their last passenger. “Jerk, isn’t he?”

Naturally, Natasha didn’t even stir, let alone reply.

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She didn’t regain consciousness until late night. When she did, she seemed to be convinced this was what hangover felt like – neither of the brothers opposed her. She ate two good portions of dinner, drank a litre of water and passed out again, absolutely exhausted.

“I don’t even wanna know what she would have looked like if Rowena drained her as much as she wanted to,” Dean noted darkly and Sam silently agreed, ready to hit the hay too.

“You think she’s safe to be left on her own?”

“You mean if she dies in her sleep? I wouldn’t worry about that now,” Dean shrugged light-heartedly, patting her calf that slipped out from between the covers. She didn’t seem to mind – or notice for that matter. “We might leave the bathroom light on so she wouldn’t crash into something when waking up groggy like before, but I think she’s good now. Get some sleep.”

Sam casted a glance at Natasha’s peaceful face, watching her form moving ever so slightly as her chest was rising and falling regularly. He sighed and made his way to the bathroom, humming in vague agreement. He was still going to set an alarm for every two hours to check up on her.

Funnily enough, Dean’s phone woke him up sooner as they had got the same idea. Sam snorted in amusement as Dean seemed ashamed for being caught caring for their protégé.

The next time Sam woke up, it was only due to his alarm at four a.m. About an hour later, he was snapped from his dreams by Natasha’s loud cursing as her shin met the nightstand; they had forgotten to leave the light in the bathroom on.

Well. At least she was alive and clearly alright enough to walk and talk.

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“So… what happens now?” Natasha asked the burning question as she finished her croissant and fruit.

Sam had been the one to go grocery shopping this time, adding apples to the cart. Dean had been mockingly disgusted, but Natasha seemed ecstatic, discovering she liked red apples better then green ones. It was adorable and Sam felt an uncomfortable pang near his heart when he realized what a little thing like this meant to her, an amnesiac.

He truly wished he had better news for her in a form of some masterplan. The true was they weren’t sure about their next step.

“Now we go to explore the island of Manhattan,” Dean shrugged, causing Natasha to tilt her head and squint.

“Okay…? How is that going to help?”

Dean made a face. “You women are so hard to please sometimes…”

Sam snorted, but quickly fixed his expression when Natasha’s eyes fell on him. He smiled at her tightly with a bit of guilt.

“We’re not sure how to proceed to be honest. Police station is an option, but I searched their databases – they probably won’t have any more luck than I did.”

“Oh,” she said only, her voice sad, her hopeful expression falling. “Can’t you like… eh, post my face on the internet or something? Could that help?”

Sam bit the inside of his cheek, the one ridiculous idea popping up in his head again. He glanced at the woman, her eyes full of steadfast trust in them.

Sam cleared his throat, uneasy sensation in his stomach.

“Well… I actually thought of creating you a Tinder account-“

“Dude!” Dean cried out, exasperated. “You don’t mean that!”

“I’m sorry, you have a better idea?” Sam demanded, irritated as he spun on his chair to face his brother.

Sam was aware it was a lame-ass plan, but there were kind of out of options.

“…what’s a Tinder?” Natasha asked cautiously and Dean answered her swiftly with the ominous words.

“It’s a fuck-app.”

“I’m sorry?”

Sam beat his brother to speaking this time. “It’s a form of a dating site – or better, a dating app for your phone. You create a profile and-“

“So it’s a dating side. Basically. What’s wrong with that?”

“It’s known for finding a quick lay,” Sam explained bluntly, making her eyes widen, blood rushing into her cheeks.

“Oh.”

Dean gestured towards her wildly as if wanting to scream ‘see?!’ when a mixture of emotions played on her face. Sam rolled his eyes and huffed.

Natasha, seeing their exchange, worried her teeth over her lower lip.

“Well… how about we have a trip to the city and if we don’t come up with anything better, we give this a go?” she offered, causing both brothers to look at her as if she had grown a second head. Frankly, Sam was pleased too, though.

“Seriously?” Dean questioned in disbelief.

“We don’t have a better plan, do we? Desperate times. Besides… I have two bodyguards if someone lures me out under false pretences, don’t I?” she asked innocently, an honest smile lighting up her face, her unshakable trust in them showing again.

It made Sam’s stomach flip and his heart melt like hot butter. His lips spread in a smile as well unwittingly and he exchanged a look with Dean, who shrugged.

“You got balls. Let’s go then.”

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It took them an hour to get to the city and find a spot and neither of them had a better plan. Which meant they wandered the streets – earning strange looks for some reason –, postponing the inevitable until they found a small homey café.

Sam gulped. “Well, looks like this is it. We’re gonna dive into the Tinder jungle…”

Dean scoffed as he entered the café, looking around for a free table in the friendly space. It was clear that this wasn’t a franchise type of thing and Sam couldn’t tell he minded.

What he did mind were several pairs of eyes falling on them – and few of them growing wide, having their owners nudge their mates and whisper.

The taller hunter glanced at his companions who seemed equally uncomfortable under the glares. Good, Sam wasn’t getting paranoid then.

The moment only lasted few second though, then an orange-haired barista making rounds approached them with a smile, pointing them towards the counter, breaking the spell.

“Welcome to MDDC. Order at the counter, please. Oh and I recommend our caramel latté. It’s known to be magical,” she winked at them and Sam winced, mentally pleading for no more magic.

Squinting at her nametag, he thanked her for the recommendation anyway.

“Thank you… Terri.”

She threw another wink over her shoulder as she spun on her heels and headed the same direction. Unlike some of the patrons she seemed unfazed by their presence as she should. Yet, Sam still caught some people watching them with interest and shuffled, uncomfortable in his own skin.

“Am I like… famous? Or are they staring at you?” Natasha whispered, cautiously walking to the line of customers.

“They are staring, aren’t they?” Sam agreed, his mind racing. Was it a good thing? What did it mean? Could Natasha be famous?

“Maybe they think we’re all in poly.”

“Dean,” Sam snapped instantly, not amused as much as his brother clearly was, judging by his smirk.

“What? They could,” Dean offered innocently, earning a curious glance from Natasha, followed by a shake of her head.

“I’m not even gonna ask.” Good choice. “Grab me the caramel latté, please? Maybe it won’t taste like coffee too much. I’m… ugh, I’m gonna…” she pointed towards the ladies room and Sam just nodded.

A quick scan of the room confirmed his suspicion – there were eyes following her. Whatever this was, it was about her, not them.

Good news: no one was about to call the police, recognizing them as criminals. Good news no.2: finding information about Natasha might not be as hard as they had thought. Might.

“So, what are we thinking?”

Dean joined him in the line, losing his carefree attitude. “I think it’s worth asking. This ain’t coincidence. I just don’t get it – if she is famous, how did you not find a match?”

Sam grimaced, wondering about the same thing.

“Maybe it’s her family – or her soulmate. They could be annoyed with people, wanting to have their peace. How much it can cost to have someone cover the digital trail? Or maybe they sued someone and it resulted in that.”

“Or we could be wrong and they’re just looking at her ‘cause she an eye-candy,” Dean hummed, sounding perfectly serious. Sam hoped that the look he sent him spoke volumes. “What? She’s cute, we’re both thinking it.”

Sam rolled his eyes , but didn’t protest. “Let’s hope that it’s not the case, otherwise we’re about to sign her up for a ‘fuck-app’.”

This time it was Dean who glared mocked murder. Sam grinned.

“So, guys, what can I get you?” Terri asked them cheerily, genuine smile on her face. It somehow made Sam smile back automatically.

“Flat white, medium for me. Americano, no sugar for him. Tall? Yeah. And one of those caramel lattés,” Sam ordered.

“Here or to go?”

“Here. Add one of those… cheesecakes or whatever it’s called,” Dean requested. Before Sam could ask, he explained. “She liked trying new stuff. And Rowena said she should eat a lot.”

“That’s surprisingly thoughtful of you,” Sam blurted out, not watching his mouth. It earned them a giggle from their barista.

“Shut up, Samantha. You’re paying.”

Sam snorted as his brother aimed for a free table in the back and he pulled out the cash.

“He looks like a piece of work,” Terri commented lightly. Sam silently agreed. “I’ll bring your order to the table, okay?”

“Thanks.”

The boot in a quiet corner was a good choice, though Sam felt a little sorry for Natasha, who would have to walk through the whole café and face the strangely curious eyes.

“Here we go. Enjoy,” the barista landed their coffees and dessert.

“Thank you. Uhm… Terri? Can I ask you something?” Sam asked and straightened in his seat, which earned him a suspicious look from the woman.

“I have a boyfriend.”

“What a shame for the rest of us…” Dean sighed, shooting Sam an amused look when he noticed how flustered he grew.

“Huh? No, that wasn’t what I was-! I mean, not that you weren’t- uh, I mean-“ Sam stuttered, horrified she came to such conclusion.

It was when she giggled, her eyes sparkling. “I’m messing with you. What is it?”

Sam huffed, but couldn’t help but sigh in relief. He even charmed a little smile, trying not to look too self-important and showing he was okay with her teasing him.

“This might sound strange but… I think… people are kinda staring? At our friend? Do you have any idea why?”

“Well… if I could take a guess… it’s… it’s just that she looks so much like her,” she said slowly, glancing around. No one paid them any mind as they lowered their voices.

Jackpot. Sam’s eyebrows jumped and he leaned in, intrigued. With the corner of his eye, he registered Dean doing the same.

“Like who?”

“Cap’s girl,” Terri said simply, her expression darkening and softening at the same time. “God give him strength and let her rest in peace.”

Millions of questions popped up in Sam’s head, mostly whirling about what, who, why, when. A tragedy had struck, that was nothing new, they expected as much, but not an event of public manner.

“Cap?” Sam questioned, confused. What kind of a nickname-

“Do you live under a rock?” Terri asked with a strange expression on her face. She seemed… surprised and weirded out, honestly. Sam couldn’t help but be offended at such blunt and mean question. “Sorry. Not much of a patriot then? Not from around here?”

“Wait, you mean Cap as… Captain America?” Dean whispered, sounding excited and Sam felt his heart skip a beat.

No way. Sam wasn’t very patriotic, never felt it, but even he knew who Captain America was and what role he had played in history – and present. But… she had to be shitting them, right?

“Well… yeah.”

Apparently not.

“Captain America? The Avenger?” Sam checked, making sure there was no confusion between them.

“Sure thing.” Terri shrugged, a small smile tugging at her lips.

“And she looks like his-…?“ Sam hinted her, trying to mask his impatience and excitement, probably failing epically.

“Soulmate, yeah.”

“That’s…” The younger hunter jerked his head, exchanging a meaningful look with Dean. “…interesting. Can we find her picture online? What’s her name? You know… celebrity look alike game and all that…? They do say my brother here looks like Bradley James.”

Oh yeah, Sam was totally making this up as he went. Dean was going to murder him for that comparison, but sacrifices needed to be made in the name of their rescue case. Terri tilted her head to side, examining Dean’s face, her smile growing wider.

“Huh. You kinda do,” she concluded and smirked. “I always was a sucker for Arthur and Merlin bromance.”

Sam snorted. They had watched an episode of Merlin. Dean had been horrified.

“I hate you. But yeah, do tell us.”

“Sure. But you can just check out the church on West 59th Street,” their barista confided them in – except neither of the brother understand what it meant. Dean was the one to ask.

“Why?”

“It’s the closest church to the Tower,” Terri announced, seemingly bewildered as she looked between the two of them. “How did you miss all this? It was all over the news.”

“We’ve been… travelling a lot.”

“Oh. Okay. You can just check it out. Light a candle for her. She died so a lot of others could live,” Terri explained them softly, clearly about to make her leave.

Sam had one last question though – well, among like million others.

Light a candle for her? What the hell?

“Thanks. Just… how long has it been?”

“Not too long. Few weeks.”

The moment their barista was out of hearing rage, Sam turned to Dean, whose shocked expression matched his own, and started whispering hastily.

“What the hell?!”

“Yeah, I’m right there with you. But it sounds legit. You check it out?“

Sam glanced around before pulling out his tablet. He liked this option better than the Tinder one, but an anxious knot was tying up his stomach as Natasha still didn’t find them at their table. She sure was taking her time. Sam hoped she was okay and wasn’t having a panic attack or something. And that there were no windows she could climb through – because if she was Captain freaking America’s soulmate, she might as well be a superhero just like him.

Seriously – what the hell.

The amount of results for ‘Captain America soulmate’ search was ridiculous, climbing to astronomic numbers. Links to articles, pictures, videos… and lots of the links had only the headline and nothing more to it – they had been deleted.

Sam wasn’t surprised anymore. Once again, if Natasha – which wasn’t her name at all, of course, as he found out – was the one for the supersoldier, there was no wonder someone would want to protect her privacy.

Sam roamed through the links, finally finding a photo – a photo of an altar, a picture of what clearly was a woman of Natasha’s hair colour, though blurred via filter, surrounded by teddy bears, flowers and candles.

The younger hunter gulped, satisfaction at possibly solving the mystery mixing with nervousness and compassion.

“Got something,” he hummed, passing the device to Dean.

“Well, that’s not creepy at all. Found any picture of her that actually shows her?”

Sam glared at his brother. “I’m trying,” he hissed, returning to his search.

He clicked on several videos – it was no surprise they had all been removed. He grunted in frustration, trying out what could be twentieth link, some no-name person Tumblr blog who had reposted it about three minutes ago.

Bingo!

The blurry picture moved a little, showing a blond man standing up from a bed in a plain room, crackling sound in the background. Sam froze the frame, attaching headphones and pressed play again.

The camera finally cleared and… the frame split in two. In the other frame, a woman strapped to a chair appeared, causing Sam’s heart stop along with his breathing.

Holy shit.

Holy.

Shit.

“Dean, you have to see this,” Sam choked out, a lump growing in his throat as he pushed the tablet to sit at the table between them and passed one headphone to his brother. Dean’s eyes went wide upon seeing the people in the video.

“Life is full of hard choices, isn’t it, Captain?” a scratchy male voice mocked the desperate man in the picture and Sam’s shoulders tensed when he realized just how hard choice the soldier was given; two bombs showed in the frame.

Well, shit.

“Steve?” Oh yeah. This was definitely Natasha’s voice. This was hundred percent Natasha. Who wasn’t Natasha, but whatever. “It’s… it’s okay. Go. Go save lives. I… I knew I’d have to share you with the world. Frankly, I didn’t imagine it would be like this, but— you go and be hero. My life is nothing compared to thousands and we both know that.”

“Is that really-“ Dean questioned incredulously, eyes glued to the screen.

“Yeah. I… I think it is.”

They spoke no more, watching the video as if it was the most suspenseful thriller they had even seen. Which it was, because the plot was very much real and they had the main character in the near bathroom. Risen from death.

Someone should probably check up on her, but Sam couldn’t tear his gaze away. It was like watching a train wreck to happen; they knew how it must have ended. Thousands of people Nat in the video had mentioned got to live; because Captain’s soulmate was about to blow up.

Both brothers still winced when the explosion did end the video.

Christ.

Dean slowly pulled out the earplug and gulped, glancing at Sam.

“Well… son of a bitch.”

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Part 12

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Thank you for reading!

(I’m sorry for that GIF use, I had to)

I hope it’s clear enough now that there’s a slight time shift between reader chapters and Steve/Nat/Sam/Bucky chapters (theirs are earlier, while reader had been resurrected a few weeks after her death, about after Steve’s drinking night.)

P.S. – I couldn’t resist that little cameo :D If you know who I mean the better, if not, don’t worry about it, Terri is one of my OFCs ;)

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