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pagesfromthevoid · 9 hours ago

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Honey & Glass | r. r.

Robert "Bob" Reynolds x superpowered!reader

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: Mentions of suicide, not a lot of Bob interaction just yet, Valentina and Walker need their own warnings

Author's Notes: I love him, okay? I'm not even sorry.

Masterlist | Talk to Me! | AO3

Six Months Before the Void

“Sergeant Barnes, if you would just give me a chance –,”

“A chance to do what, exactly?” Bucky asked, turning to face the young woman who had –for the better part of an hour –been following him through the charity event.

“Help with your campaign!” She explained, throwing her hands in the air. “Sir, you’re an icon. A legend. So it genuinely pains me to say this. But you suck at talking in front of the camera.”

He stared at her for a long moment, considering what she was saying. Okay, sure –he wasn’t great at interviews. But he was polling better than everyone else running against him. That had to mean something, right? He rolled his neck, pushing aside an annoying tingle that had shot up his spine.

“I know what you’re thinking,” she continued, stepping in front of him, putting her hands up as if she could stop him from leaving. “You’re thinking that you’re polling better than everyone else running against you, and that has to mean something.”

Bucky’s brow furrowed. “How did –,”

“And it does mean something –but it won’t if you don’t learn how to address the public. The whole ‘man of the people’ schtick gets old fast when it’s less endearing and more ‘is this man actually qualified?’”

He doesn’t have time for this, he decided, shaking his head. Then he reached out to just move her –something he didn’t really like doing, but she was too persistent and kind of annoying, so he needed her to go away.

“I’m not going away!” She exclaimed, ducking away from his touch –as if she anticipated it. “Also don’t manhandle people –sir, do you realize how bad that looks? Like, our mayor does enough of that.”

“How are you doing that?” He demanded, grabbing her by the arm and pulling her to the side. Though his grip wasn’t tight –he didn’t want to hurt her.

“Doing what?”

“Can you read my mind?” He demanded again, glaring down at her.

“I mean…,” she dragged out the phrase, making a ‘maybe’ sort of motion with her hands. “Listen, I told you I knew what you were thinking. But that’s not all I can do –and I can use it to help you.”

“Why on earth would you want to use your superpowers to help me run for Congress?”

“Because I actually think you can do good for Brooklyn,” she insisted, and Bucky swore that she was being genuine. “I am being genuine, sir. I care about my city. And I do think you can do a lot more than most can. But you need a public relations specialist and I am really good at my job. Theoretically, at least.”

“Theoretically?” He asked, frowning deeply.

“I mean, you would be my first client because I finished my Master’s like right before the Blip then disappeared technically, but I know I can be really good at my job if you just give me a chance. Please. I’ll even do it for free!”

“I’m not –you’re not doing it for free. I’ll pay you –,”

“Yes!”

Present Day –D.C.

“Any word on our friend?” Bucky asks, glancing at his PR specialist slash assistant slash…well, everything, really.

He isn’t sure how to describe the young woman who stood next to him, because she’s a jack of all trades at this point in his very short Congressional career. She started off managing his social media and helping his public image before the election. Bucky had to give credit where credit was due: the girl is good at her job. Her speech writing skills are solid. She keeps his message and support consistent. She even managed to get him less stiff and weird on camera. She keeps him on schedule and pushes him through things he doesn’t want to do, with both a smile and a snarky comment that lightens his frustrations.

Her abilities came in handy quite a bit in these tasks. Between reading the minds of the people around her –knowing what they wanted, how they felt –and being able to project positive thoughts into a crowd…well, Bucky is glad she was so persistent six months ago.

But then she had a run-in with one of his opponents supporters, showing up to work disheveled and frustrated.

“It’s nothing,” she had insisted, “Just some asshole who thinks I’m a monster for helping you.”

Bucky decided that he could teach her a few things too.

She was a fast learner, and a willing student. If she got knocked down, she got up again and immediately sought feedback and improvement. While she’s no super soldier, she is able to hold her own if she needs to —after a few months. Bucky taught her how to handle a weapon or two, she taught him how to use Twitter and TikTok (which he hated, but damn did it help his numbers). It’s a good partnership.

The latest lesson is a bit of espionage –nothing super intense. Bucky is working on how to get Valentina Alegra de Fontaine impeached –and while his assistant was a great asset in confirming that Valentina was, in fact, guilty…well, the public doesn’t know he has a mutant in his employment. And while Bucky has no issue telling anyone, she does –and it isn’t his secret to tell.

“None of my family knows,” she explained over a beer one night after another charity gala. “I don’t…It’s not something I need anyone to know. I already know what everyone thinks; I don’t need them to start thinking specifically about me too. I don’t think I could handle it.”

“Her assistant –her name is Mel –is on the fence about her boss,” she explains, clicking away at her phone as she sends him over her notes. “I tried talking to her but she pretty much immediately beelined for the door when I got closer.”

“Who's the unapproachable one now?” He jokes, grinning down at her as he grabs a champagne glass for both of them.

She snorts in response, taking a sip of the bubbly he hands her. “Still you, sir.”

“Fair enough,” he agrees, nodding some as he looks around the room. “Anything else?”

“She’s getting rid of any and all evidence of O.X.E and something called Project Sentry,” she continues, though she’s hiding her lips behind her glass. “I couldn’t figure out what that was –I’m sure something ratchet.”

“Ratchet?” He asks, frowning deeply.

“Terrible,” she offers.

Her and her millennial slang. He couldn’t understand it half the time.

“I’ll try to get closer –,”

“Don’t,” he interrupts, stepping in front of her. “Cool it for the night. I have some angles that I can work with; I need you to do what you do best now.”

“Get people to think you’re not a weird old man from the forties?”

“...yes.”

“Can do, sir.” She salutes him, grinning up at him.

Bucky shoos her away, shaking his head, then heads off to locate Congressman Gary about his findings.

*****

She sees coordinates.

She knows she promised Bucky she wouldn’t get closer to Valentina, but she never promised she wouldn’t pay attention to Mel.

“I know you’re avoiding me,” she comments as she slips behind Mel with a polite smile and glass of champagne. “I don’t know why. I thought we were like…I don’t know, two peas in a pod. Assistants to weirdly powerful people –,”

“Oh, I’m not –,” Mel starts but bites her tongue. “I’m not avoiding you. Just super busy. You know, being an assistant to a weirdly powerful person.”

She nods, sipping her drink thoughtfully. But Mel is focused on her tablet again, and the coordinates are flashing in her mind as she looks at a name –John Walker. U.S. Agent. Dime store Captain America. She makes a face behind her glass, unable to help it.

The same coordinates flash again, indicating that Walker was being sent somewhere to get rid of someone named Belova in Utah.

She hums as she jots down the coordinates in her phone, fully intending to send them to Bucky.

“Well, well –finally, I get the pleasure of meeting the little girl who’s made our junior congressman remotely functional,” Valentina announces from behind, catching her off guard. “You know, you could do a lot better.”

She smiles politely, though she wonders if it looks as forced as it feels. “I don’t think I could, but I appreciate the sentiment.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Valentina hums, bumping shoulders with Mel, who looks painfully uncomfortable. Her thoughts are loud. What is she doing? She literally told me not to talk to this girl. Why is she talking to her? What’s her angle? Is she trying to fire me? Do I want to be fired?? “Could work with us –I bet your skills would do wonders.”

She narrows her eyes at the inflection –at the implication –in Valentina’s tone. “I think you have an excellent assistant already, Ms. de Fontaine –,”

“Oh, I don’t need another assistant. Mel is perfect,” though her tone sounds…alarmingly poisonous. “You, though…you could be so much more than just Bucky Barnes’ pretty assistant.”

“I am more than that, ma’am,” she argues, narrowing her eyes.

“I think you have the potential to be a hero,” Valentina continues, ignoring her. “Think about what you could do with those powers of yours.”

“I don’t –,”

“Oh please,” the director of the CIA interrupts. “Number one, it’s obvious that you can read minds. You know way too much and have almost no contacts in D.C. Just because everyone else in this room is oblivious doesn’t mean I am. Number two, you have an actual talent –something that can literally calm down the worst of the worst without even touching them. Think about what you could do with that.”

She opens her mouth to say something, but stops herself. Valentina is manipulating her. She knows that the director is. It’s obvious, and Valentina isn’t even trying to hide it.

“I’m making an impact here,” she says, though she’s not half as confident as she was before.

“Are you, though?”

“More so than a woman experimenting on humans and destroying the evidence.”

Valentina laughs –well, snorts really, because her laugh is not from amusement. “Shit, you know. I thought I could get you. That’s unfortunate. Now you’re just a liability.”

Her brow furrows and as she’s about to call out –for Bucky, for someone –there’s a high pitched screeching in her ears and everything goes fuzzy. She curses out loud as Valentina calls for help –as someone helps her up and leads her away. She can’t hear what’s going on –she can’t see what’s being presented to the crowd. But through blurry eyes, she can see Bucky trying to make his way through the crowd.

She’s blacked out before she knows if he’s going to help her.

*****

Her head hurts.

That’s all she can focus on.

There’s a dull ache in her skull like someone took a screwdriver and tried to scramble her brain through her ears.

The pain, however, is overcome by the sound of gunshots echoing in an empty room.

She rolls over, bumping into a crate or something, and tries to push herself onto her knees. There’s yelling and gunshots and she’s barely able to think let alone move. But she manages to get herself sitting up, eyes screwed tight as she presses her head into the crate behind her. She needs to get her bearings. She needs to figure out where she is and she needs to call Bucky because she fucked up and now she’s probably in danger and –

“It’s getting kind of tense out there,” a voice whispers –trembling, soft.

But she’s not expecting anyone to be so close to her and she screams out, throwing herself away from him.

The gunshots stop, and there’s a silence for a moment as the weapons shift towards her and this man she doesn’t recognize. Though, she’s certain that even if she could see properly without feeling like her brain was bleeding, she wouldn’t know who he is.

“And who are you?” Someone asks, and she can hear footsteps coming closer.

She tries to mask herself –hide from whatever is probably going to kill her –but the moment she even considers her powers –there’s another violent jolt down her spine and she cries out in pain.

“Oh,” the man above her says, putting his hands up. “I’m –I’m uh, Bob. I don’t –well, I don’t know who she is –,”

“Don’t involve me in this,” she hisses as he points to her, though she looks up as John Walker peers down at her. She glares at him through squinted, bloodshot eyes.

“Aren’t you…Bucky’s assistant?” He asks, holstering his gun.

She nods once, swallowing hard. “Yeah…yeah, I am.”

“How the hell did you both get in here?” the Russian asks.

“I don’t remember,” Bob admits, still trembling some as he looks down at her on the floor. “I found her like that –,”

“I think I was kidnapped,” she explains as Walker offers her a hand to stand. She slaps it away and slowly pushes herself up. “Fucking Valentina –,”

“So just to confirm,” the Russian begins. “Valentina sent…all of us here, to kill each other. Plus two civilians?”

“I think she sent me here to get killed,” she offers, leaning against the crate to hold her up. “I, uh, can read minds and shit.”

“Ah, okay. Liability,” the Russian confirms, as if it was obvious. “Doesn’t explain Bob though.”

“Wait, you guys were sent?” He asks, and she’s taking a breath and finally finds herself focusing a little better.

She glances at Bob now, taking a moment to finally look at him. He’s in scrubs, disheveled and confused. She, probably inappropriate for the moment, thinks he would be kind of cute if he was a little more cleaned up. Or least not in scrubs.

There’s not a chance in hell she can read his thoughts –her brain is still a mess. She tries to focus her gaze, blinking away the fuzziness that had overwhelmed her. Things were getting clearer; their thoughts —though still fragmented and scrambled like a TV without signal —were finally breaking through. He’s standing there barefoot and it's hard to believe that he wasn’t just…here already. He seems too confused to have snuck in, and more importantly too scrambled.

“I don’t think it matters, really,” she finally says, standing up straight. “We need to get out because Valentina is absolutely trying to kill all of us.”

“Okay, these two —yeah, I get it,” Walker argues, motioning to the Russian —Yelena— and the other woman —Ava —she’s gathered. “But I’m a decorated war vet. I was Captain America —,”

Bob suddenly laughs, and the sound feels almost unnerving in the situation they’re in. She turns to him, his fragmented thoughts loud and…and scary.

Walker isn’t amused. “What’s so funny, Bobby?”

Some thought —or maybe emotion —flares up in Bob but he just laughs uncomfortably again.

“You keep saying you’re Captain America,” he explains, wringing his hands.

“And why is that funny?” Walker presses and his thoughts are getting louder now too.

“It’s just…you’re an asshole.”

For a moment, there’s silence. Walker looks mortified and angry. Yelena is clearly holding back her laughter while Ava is more focused on getting the hell out. But Bob is laughing —boyish, timid, and dare she admit it, kind of cute. And she can’t help but laugh now too.

“Oh, god. He’s got such a point. God bless you, Bob, thank you so much for seeing things clearly,” she agrees, putting a hand on Bob’s shoulder. “Walker’s literally the worst.”

There’s a moment. The room shifts, like how it shifts when she uses her powers. But it’s darker, and she’s familiar with her room she’s standing in. It doesn’t last though. As she’s trying to figure out where she is, it shifts back.

And suddenly she’s back in the vault, hand on his shoulder, and everyone staring at her like she’s lost her goddamn mind. Maybe she has, because she’s worried she’s accidentally lost control. And that’s never happened before. She’s usually in far more control —but she chalks it up to anxiety and shakes herself out of it. She didn’t mean to do it; it wasn’t on purpose. Bob does seem a bit put out by it though; blue eyes wide as he stares at her like he’s done something wrong.

“Sorry, I —,” he starts, but an alarm goes off, interrupting her thoughts and she drops her hand from Bob’s shoulder.

“We need to get out of here,” Yelena states, pointing to the clock on the wall. “We find the console that controls the barrier, Ava can get through and open it from the other side. Once we’re out, we split up, we find an exit. Walker, keep assistant girl and Bob alive.”

There’s arguing, and their thoughts are getting louder as she’s finally coming into focus again. She wants to argue and remind them what her name is but it seems redundant at this point, given she’s probably going to die.

Oh. Oh god. She’s actually going to die. She’s actually enough of a liability that someone wants her dead and she’s going to die in a vault underground, with a bunch of assholes and some guy named Bob. Her hand grabbed at her chest, trying to ease that panic as she fell against another crate, sitting down and breathing hard.

“I’m going to die because I’m too good at my job,” she mumbles to herself. “God, what the fuck?”

“You’re not going to die,” Walker insists as Yelena shouts out in discovery. Walker turns his attention to the Russian, hurrying over to smash the controls in with his shield.

“We might die,” Bob offers, as if that was reassuring. He sits beside her, hands in his lap as he picks at the skin around his nails. “It’s fine, I think.”

Another yell of triumph and they both watch as Ava phased through the walls, finding an escape. If she wasn’t so scared of death, she would have been wholly impressed. Bob patted her shoulder awkwardly —though she pulled away.

“Don’t —I don’t want to accidentally make you see my thoughts,” she explains, frowning deeply as he drops his hand. “I appreciate the thought, Bob. I just —I don’t want to freak you out.”

“Oh,” though he doesn’t really seem to understand what she means.

“Come on!” Walker suddenly screams, hitting the door. “Where the hell is she!”

The two civilians stand, moving to stand behind Yelena and Walker. The timer is counting down and the thoughts around her are…alarmingly accepting of their fates. Walker and Yelena both seem to be totally fine if this is where the line ends for them. And Bob…well, his thoughts are still fragmented and confusing, but he seems just as willing to die down here as the other two.

“Oh my god,” she whispers, covering her eyes. “You’re all suicide risks.”

#robert reynolds x reader #bob reynolds x reader #sentry x reader #robert reynolds #bob thunderbolts #thunderbolts*#the new avengers

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vampz1re · 2 days ago

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pairing: Idia x reader , Jade x reader, Floyd x reader, Epel x reader ( all one-sided )

cw: angst , hurt little comfort , rejection , reader is called yuu , reader is in-love with the character(s), reader is NOT yuu , yuu comforts reader, GN reader, Floyd is a bit mean , mischaracterization a bit.. Epels is more left to decide since I got a bit more happy after awhile...🫵

note: i'm in a lil bit of a bad mood so i'm making u guys also sad with angst!

word count: 1.1k

enjoy!

IDIA SHROUD —

It had started innocently enough , you had interacted with him a bit after his over-blot and even attended his club when Yuu was busy

After his overblot, you'd worried about him - everyone had, in their own way. But you'd stayed. Quietly. Consistently.

You brought snacks. Asked about his builds. Laughed at his dry, muttered jokes when no one else could hear them. And maybe - somewhere between the late-night strategy sessions and the way his eyes lit up when he talked about game lore , you’d fallen a little too hard.

So you confessed.

Right in the club room, when it was just the two of you and the flickering light from the monitors painted shadows across his face.

“I like you, Idia.”

The words hung in the air like a broken line of code. He didn’t even turn around.

Instead, his fingers paused over the keyboard, hovering like they didn’t know where to go.

“…E-Error,” he whispered, stuttering just a bit. “W-What did you just say?”

You hesitated a bit at his answer, before answering baxk just as firmly . “I said I like you. I mean - romantically.”

The silence that followed was deafening.

For a long moment, the only sound was the hum of the computers. Then, Idia exhaled. It wasn’t a relieved sigh. It was the kind of sound someone makes when they realize their worst fear just came true.

He turned in his chair slowly, hair dimming to a dull blue. His eyes didn’t quite meet yours.

“You… shouldn’t like me. I - I can't do that."

The words sliced cleanly through your chest.

There it was. The rejection. Clean. Final.

You stood there for a second, searching his face for something - regret, pain, second thoughts. Maybe they were all there, buried under layers of self-doubt and defense mechanisms. But none of them changed his answer.

You had left the room shortly after , rushing back to ramshackle , only to fall into Yuu's arms shortly after arriving as they were the only other friend you had trusted to see you this way.

JADE LEECH —

You had always liked the outdoors , which led you to joining the Mountain Lovers club , which had also led to you getting a bit close to Jade Leech.

You weren’t sure when casual conversations on winding trails turned into something more , but they had. Somewhere between pointing out moss species and stargazing by the lake , you’d started to feel something.

You had said one afternoon , as the two of you sat on a rock ledge overlooking the misty valley below. “I think - no , i do like you.”

He tilted his head slightly , eyes narrowing in that unreadable way he always did when he was intrigued.

“Hmm,” he murmured , “That is... unexpected. But fascinating.”

The silence stretched between you , only broken by the distant rustle of leaves in the breeze.

“Is that a problem?” you asked , heart beginning to pound as you galnced over at him for a split second .

For a moment , Jade said nothing. His eyes remained fixed on the horizon , expression impossible to read.

“Affection,” he finally said , “is a curious thing. And I... am not quite sure what I would do with yours.”

The words didn’t hurt immediately. They landed slowly , like rain soaking into your clothes before you realized you were cold.

There it was. Not quite rejection. Not quite acceptance. A careful , polite boundary.

You sat in silence beside him for a while longer , letting the wind pull at your sleeves , trying to figure out whether you had just lost something or uncovered a truth you weren’t ready for.

After that , the club went by with some awkward silence yet also just barely enough to where you managed to pull through until the end .

Your tears only fell when you reached ramshackle and Yuu had questioned how club was - given they knew of your plans to confess .

FLOYD LEECH —

Uyo didn’t know when the lines between ‘fun buddy’ and ‘crushing’ had blurred between your view on Floyd.

One day it was just teasing and laughter- wild grins and fast footsteps down the hallway.

And then suddenly , every time he smiled at you , your heart tripped over itself like it didn’t know how to keep up.

You told him on a quiet afternoon , the two of you sprawled out on the lounge couches , his head dangling off the side upside-down.

“Hey , Floyd,” you said , voice a little too soft.

He blinked at you lazily. “Hmm? What’s up , shrimpy shrimp?”

“I think I like you. Like... not just for fun.”

The words hung in the air , strange and fragile.

Floyd sat up slowly , expression unreadable for once.

“Like like me?” he asked , tone light—but his eyes weren’t laughing.

You nodded - already depely regretting this .

For a second , nothing. No grin. No teasing comeback.

“That’s dumb,” he said , voice flat, his eyebrows furrowed. “You’re not supposed to do that.”

It stung more than you thought it would. You opened your mouth , then closed it again.

“Why not?” you managed to ask.

He shrugged , looking away. “Cause if you like me , you can get hurt. People always do.”

There it was. Not anger. Not confusion. Just a wall.

You didn’t say anything else. Just sat there , hoping the sting would fade before he noticed the way your hands were shaking.

You didn't even make it out the lounge door before rushing back to your dorm, tears already threatening to roll ldonw your face .

EPEL FELMIER —

You weren’t sure when it happened—but somewhere between shared apples and quiet afternoons , you started liking Epel more than you meant to.

It hit you all at once one day , watching him laugh in the sunlight—unfiltered , unguarded.

So you told him. Just the two of you , sitting under that familiar tree.

“Epel ,” you said quietly. “I think I like you.”

His smile froze , just a little. He blinked.

“Huh?”

“Romantically,” you added , more quietly this time. “I... I like you.”

For a moment , he didn’t speak. Just stared down at the grass , fingers digging into the dirt.

“Oh.”

That was it. Just one word. Flat. Quiet.

The silence dragged on too long. It wrapped around your chest and tightened.

“Never mind,” you said quickly , trying to laugh it off. “It’s okay. I just thought you should know.”

His head jerked up. “Wait -"

But you were already standing.

“I get it,” you said , forcing a smile. “You don’t have to say anything.”

Epel stood too , reaching like he wanted to stop you - but the words never came.

“I just—” he started , but nothing followed.

You gave a quick nod and turned away , swallowing the ache in your throat.

"...i just needed a second.." were thw ords he whispered as he hesitated to run after you.

#angstyvampz #cozyvampz #fluffyvampz #twstvampz #vampz1re #vampzyap #twst x you #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #idia shroud #idia shroud x reader #jade leech #jade leech x reader #floyd leech x reader #floyd leech #epel felmier #epel felmier x reader #twisted wonderland

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asoftsighh · 2 days ago

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Hii ! How are you ?? I wanted to make a request for Tasm Peter Parker, I imagine Peter passing by the street where the reader is walking and picking her up and starting to swing from building to building on the web with her, like that scene from the second movie, when Peter wrote "I love you" on the bridge and then he picked up Gwen while swinging on the web, I imagine the reader hearing screams about Spider-Man, and then, she is meters above the ground

₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊ tasm!peter parker x reader ₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

peter takes you for a swing

1k words

a/n: i'm good and hope you are too! thank you for requesting babe this was so fun! (i changed it just a bit, hope thats okay) ʚ♡ɞ

Walking down the sidewalk, through the hustle of Queens at lunchtime, you can practically taste the spring rolls that will be in your hands soon. You and Peter’s favorite Chinese restaurant, Pearl’s Garden, is a ten minute walk from your shared apartment. They can make your food in less time than that. The owner, a nice old man, knows you both by name.

You eventually turn down a street that isn’t nearly as crowded, where people have turned into convenience stores or have gone down to the subway. Just as you see the sign for Pearl’s, a big, green rectangle, you hear a whoosh. An arm wraps around your waist, curling you up toward their body like you weigh 10 pounds. Before you can scream, you shoot up into the air.

“Peter!” You screech, turning in his arm to wrap your arms around his neck. There’s no need to worry about other people hearing his name since you’re already high up enough.

His spandex-clad hand tightens around your waist, holding a fist of your jacket just in case. You can’t see it, but you know he has that stupid smile.. “Hi babe!” he says cheerily, like this is a normal place to hold a conversation, flying between tall buildings. “Where were you going?”

You press your face into his shoulder; at some point, you must’ve wrapped your legs around his waist. You’d think you’d be used to this by now, the feeling of shooting up and leaving your stomach far, far behind. Still, you fight the urge to squeeze your eyes shut, but you know that will just make it worse.

“Were you following me?” You yell over the sound of air passing by your ears.

You feel the bump of his nose against your temple right before he glides you both around a shiny, windowed building. You think he laughs as your arms tighten around him. “I saw you from above and wanted to say hi. Totally normal boyfriend stuff.”

If you weren’t too scared to let go of him, you’d pinch his side. Still, you smile to yourself. “Can’t you just say hi like a normal person? I think my insides are dying.”

This time, you do hear him laugh... loudly. It buzzes against your ear, soft and scratchy, like he didn’t expect it to come out. He doesn’t respond as you peer over his shoulder hesitantly. You think you’re slowing down; it’s so hard to tell from up here. You watch as cars drive down below, before all you can see is a rooftop. He has landed on a flat roof, most likely some commercial building.

You unravel your legs from his waist. Just as they are about to hit the ground, Peter’s swinging arm joins the other and wraps around your back, his hand spreading on your side. “Let me go,” you whine, though you don’t let go of him either. He sways you back and forth, a mix between dancing and puppy-like energy.

“I missed you,” He says, his voice sounding clearer, like there's no mask covering his mouth. You lean back, and sure enough, you can see his handsome face now. His crooked smile was creeping in, but it was the way his eyes crinkled when they met yours, soft and golden and impossibly kind, that made your heart ache.

Your smile matches his. “I saw you a couple hours ago,” you say. Your hand creeps up the back of his neck to touch his hair, the thick, brown locks soft on your fingers.

He looks pained all of a sudden, as if a couple hours without your presence has physically wounded him. He tugs you back to him, squeezing your body as close to his as he can get without it becoming painful. “Where were you going?” His breath tickles the baby hairs growing from your temple.

“Pearl’s. I was hungry and wanted lunch. And we don’t have any food at home because somebody forgot my yogurt.” You say, not unkindly.

He pulls back enough to look at you again, squinting at you. “You told me you weren’t mad about that.”

You aren’t, not really. You just like messing with him. “You’re lucky you’re cute, Parker. And that I was craving an egg roll or two.”

Still, he is never easily mollified. His face falls into the crook of your neck, his nose brushing against your jaw. “I have failed you. As a boyfriend. As your grocery shopper. As a man.” You’re giggling now, which you expect was what he wanted in the first place. He presses a kiss to your jaw. “I’ll get you your yogurt on the way home. Pinky promise, babe.”

You smile into his hair, kissing the outer shell of his ear, simply because you can. “Are you busy with Spider Man stuff? Or can you take a break to have lunch with me?”

He removes his face from your jaw to give you a look, one that says what a stupid question and Oh My God I love you all in one. “Duh.” He punctuates it with a kiss on the tip of your nose.

You grin at him, heart beating in the way that only seems to happen when he’s this close. When you can see darker rim around his eyes, the blonder streaks of hair around his forehead that can only come from time in the sun. “Good. If you said no, I wouldn’t have gotten you anything for later.”

His jaw drops open dramatically, and before you can push him away, his arms tighten around you like he can read your thoughts. “Cruel,” he says against your cheek. “What have I ever done to you?”

You laugh as he gathers you in his arms again, getting ready to leave. “Forgotten my yogurt, apparently.”

As payback, he doesn’t give you a countdown for when he jumps off the building, heading back to Queens. Your scream gets swallowed up by the rushing air, cars honking, and his laugh against your ear.

criticism is welcome as long as it’s kind ✮⋆˙

i’m very new to writing ✮⋆˙

#peter parker x reader #peter parker fluff #tasm!peter parker x reader #tasm!peter parker fluff #tasm!peter parker pic #marvel fic #marvel fluff

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motorsportbarbie13 · 14 hours ago

Text

Hurricane - Part 7

{“Emma.” Her head snapped in the direction of her name being called. She was surprised to see it was GP. “Go make sure he’s okay, yeah?” Emma bit her lip, eyes bouncing between where the engineer stood and the door that Max had just stormed out of. “Are you sure?” GP nodded, removing his headset and placing it on the counter beside him. “You’re probably the only who he’ll see right now. He needs you.”}

warnings/notes: no warnings that i can think of. as always, thank you to my writing therapist @lestapiastrisgirl. in the interest of transparency, this one is going to end here, for now. i feel like this is a good place to pause since i'm feeling a little...wrung out...creatively. i don't think emma&max's story is done quite yet but i also need to take a pause. i'll put together a little update post later this afternoon in case anyone is interested in what my summer plans are. OKAY! onto part seven!! word count: 6.8k

hurricane master list main master list ask me anything

The low hum of conversation and the clinking of silverware filled the trendy Miami restaurant that Charles had chosen. If it had been up to Max, he’d be back in his hotel room stewing over the fact that it was now Friday evening and Emma was still avoiding him. He picked at his fish, the Michelin starred chef’s excellently seared salmon tasing like ash in his mouth. Across the table, Charles was droning on about��something. What it was, Max wasn’t quite sure but his friend’s usual charm filled the space that Max couldn’t be bothered to worry about. Because Max was distracted, he was only catching snippets of the conversation, his attention constantly flitting to his phone that was lying face-up on the table beside him.

No new messages. Not a single text from Emma since before sprint qualifying yesterday, and even that one had been a cool and even toned ‘they’re waiting for you in the media pen.’ She’d been the epitome of professional since they’d arrived in Miami but there was a slight edge to it now. It was still the same Emma that he’d come to know: competent, organized, ensuring that his schedule was strictly adhered to but there was something missing. The easy banter, the shared smiles, the comfortable intimacy that had begun to blossom between them since Emma had joined him in Japan had seemingly vanished overnight.

She’d excused herself early again tonight, saying the jet lag was hitting her harder for some reason and that she’d wanted to get some sleep ahead of the sprint race tomorrow morning. Max hadn’t pushed but her icing him out had the panic building in his chest. The memory of falling asleep with Emma wrapped around him, the smell of her floral shampoo comforting him in a way he wasn’t familiar with was like an ache that he couldn’t make better. She hadn’t seemed uncomfortable that night, hadn’t seemed like he was pushing her too far. Maybe he had read it all wrong though because the memory of waking up alone that next morning was sharp and painful, blotting out the way he’d felt with Emma in his bed.

He’d tried, of course, since they’d arrived in Miami. A few casual remarks during the pilates class on Thursday, an inside joke cracked softly amidst the bustle of the garage in between practice and sprint qualifying earlier in the day. They were desperate attempts to bridge this awkward chasm that Max was seemingly responsible for creating but nothing had worked. He’d been met with bright, almost brittle, friendliness that felt more like a shield than an invitation.

It was driving him insane.

Charles’ laughter faded as he noticed Max tapping his phone for what felt like the fiftieth time that night. He leaned forward slightly, something like concern playing on his face. “Everything alright? You seem a bit preoccupied tonight.”

Max forced what he hoped looked like a nonchalant shrug, picking at a stray piece of potato on his plate. “Fine.” He clipped. “Just tired. Long day of dragging that car to places it doesn’t belong.”

A wry, understanding smile ghosted across Charles’ face. “You usually handle that shit like it’s a walk in the park. You’ve been…” He pauses, looking at his friend thoughtfully. Charles had known Max for a long time, since they were children, so he was fairly confident in his ability to read the moods of the Dutchman. “Off since you got here. Did something happen earlier this week?”

Max knew he was asking specifically about Emma. His jaw tightened, the muscle there fluttering as he tried to choose how to evade giving Charles a real answer. Charles senses that there’s more behind Max’s silence and he lets the question hang in the air between them for longer than he normally would. Lifting his wine glass, Charles takes a sip, casually observing Max over the rim.

“It just seems like there’s tension there. Between you and Emma, that is.” He stated it like it was a fact, not a question. Max hated how easily Charles was able to read him. “She’s usually around during media day and in the garage. I don’t think I saw her leave Red Bull hospitality all day.”

Max finally meets Charles’ gaze, a flicker of annoyance crossing his features. “She was just working, Charles. Catching up on things. Race weekends are busy, Miami especially.”

Charles raised an eyebrow. “Emma is never that quiet in the paddock, you know that. Even when she’s working, she’s usually lobbing sarcastic comments at Lando. Those two bicker like brother and sister most of the time. I think Ollie and Kimi were a little lost without her. They both asked me twice if I’d seen her and if I thought that she was mad at them.” He pauses again, choosing his words carefully. He knows Max and his propensity to shut down if challenged too hard. “You’re different too. You’ve been quieter than normal, distracted. Anxious even.” He leans closer, his voice dropping slightly. “Everything okay between you two?”

Max hesitated for just a beat too long and Charles saw the walls crack open. He took a long sip of water, the cold doing little to cool the heated anxiety rising in his chest. He trusted Charles, more than most, and the weight of the anxiety that had been sitting in his stomach like a ball of lead for the last three days was unbearable.

“Nope.” He admits, letting the singular word hang in the air like a confession.

Charles sets down his wine glass, look of concern etched on his face. “Alright, what happened then?”

Max scrubbed a hand over his face, unfamiliar with this level of vulnerability. But he was going crazy living in his head over this so he knew he needed to get it out. “Do you remember that storm we had the other night?”

Charles nodded, but remains silent otherwise.

“She is apparently terrified of storms and she kind of…ended up sleeping in my bed.” He paused. “With me.” The words hung in the air between them, heavy with the implication of what he’d just said.

Charles blinked, brows rising slightly as a flicker of surprise crossed his features. He’d seen the way the two had interacted around each other, anyone with eyes could see the steady undercurrent of something more than just a professional relationship wanting to form. What Charles hadn’t realized was the depth of it. “With you?”

Max nodded, a small, almost reflexive smile touching the corner of his mouth at the memory. “Just slept, nothing more.”

“And?”

Max nodded again, “And I liked it. More than I should have. It felt right. Natural almost. Like she belonged there.” His smile faded then, replaced by a frown. “And she’s been avoiding me ever since. She’s being professional. Polite. But it’s not the same. Like she regrets what happened or something, like I crossed a line and she’s angry I took advantage of her or something. This whole week she’s been distant.” He pulled out his phone again, his thumb brushing over her name in his contact list. Sunshine. “I keep waiting for her to text me, for some sign that she’s not completely regretting it, or me.”

Charles watched him as he rambled. Spiraled, really. He could see the turmoil on his friends face, the unguarded vulnerability in his eyes. “Have you talked to her about it?” He asked gently. “About what happened, how you feel.”

Max rolled his eye, a defeated sigh escaping his lips. “I haven’t had the chance. Or I haven’t taken the chance because I’m afraid of the answer. I thought we were going in one direction and suddenly, she’s made a u-turn and I’m left trying to follow her lead. I don’t want to push her, she’s been through a lot already but this is driving me insane. I don’t know what to do, Charles.”

“You need to talk to her, my friend. This is just going to fester and if you’re not careful, it’s going to effect your performance this weekend.”

Max heaved a sigh, picking at the last bits of his salmon. He knew Charles was right. Of course Charles was right. He was being a coward and needed to suck it up. Emma meant more to him than this and he was allowing her to drift away. He didn’t want to lose her but from the way she was retreating from him already, Max knew hew as already headed that way. He needed to make a move and needed to make it fast.

Picking up his phone, Max opened up the string of messages between him and Emma and typed out a quick text and hit send before he could second guess his actions.

Hey Sunshine, I think we need to talk.

********

The early morning sun hung low over the skyline, barely breaching the high rise buildings at Emma’s back. She sat near the water’s edge of a quiet stretch of beach, coffee in one hand, phone in the other. The text message she’d woken up to this morning stared back at her like a snake poised to bite.

The green and white striped beach towel she’d nicked from the hotel pool was feather soft beneath her as Emma stretched out on the sand, toes pointed in a delicious stretch that she could feel beginning to burn. The beach was quiet at this time of the day, the only ones taking in the serene setting was Emma, a couple walking down the beach hand in hand, and a few seagulls.

Emma leaned back on the palms of her hands, fingers digging deeply into the warm sand beneath her.

As she stared out over the water watching the white tipped waves roll in over and over, her mind kept flickering back to the text message Max had sent last night. He’d called her Sunshine again and she hated the way her heart fluttered at the nickname only Max used. She’d never asked why he’d picked the nickname, just preened under the attention every time he’d used it. And then he’d said they’d needed to talk. Her stomach churned unpleasantly at the thought. Was he regretting what had happened? Was he rethinking the whole arrangement they had? Did Max want to fire her?

How had this gotten away from her so quickly? One moment she was dealing with her anxieties the best way she knew how and the next, Max was there, trying to take care of her like no one had ever wanted to. She couldn’t be falling for Max. It just wasn’t a good idea. He was her boss. Her boss that also happened to be her best friend’s older brother.

It was so messy.

Emma hated messy.

But with the mess came contentment. It had felt so right. So easy and natural, to just curl up in Max’s bed beside him, tucked into his side like she had belonged there all along. How could it be messy if it was what was supposed to happen all along?

Emma wasn’t built for this kind of vulnerability. Not after a lifetime of self-reliance and independence. Vulnerability was terrifying and something that was for other people. She couldn’t afford it and she didn’t want to risk the only stable thing in her life. The ingrained fear of history repeating itself, of this fragile connection she’d developed with Max shattering like glass, was a constant source of anxiety for her ever since she woke up the morning before.

She rubbed at her temples, the bright sunlight beating down on her from the height of its daily trek across the sky, doing little to help the spiraling she was doing.

Enough.

Enough of this overthinking.

Emma knew herself well enough to know that she needed help to get out of this hole she was digging herself deeper and deeper. She couldn’t go to Max. And her mother was out of the question, she still hadn’t spoken to Gloria since the day she had accused Emma of sleeping with Max (ironic, considering the position she was in right now). She reached for her phone and begun to scroll through her contacts. Her finger hovered over Victoria’s contact. Could she go to Vic for this? She’d always been there for Emma in the past, when her overthinking had gotten the best of her. But this was about her brother of all people. There was no way to pretend she was spiraling about another person, Vic would see right through her.

You’ve got to trust her. A small voice whispered in Emma’s head as she debated what she should do. Vic is your best friend. It’ll be okay.

Drawing in a deep breath, Emma hit Victoria’s contact before listening to it ring.

“Bestie!!!” Victoria picked up on only the second ring, voice cheerful and happy. It had been a while since the two had been able to catch up and Emma grinned at the sound of her best friend’s voice. “How’s Miami?”

Emma leaned back on the beach towel, closing her eyes. “Hot.” She groaned.

“I bet. I don’t know why the FIA thought Florida in May was a good idea.”

“Especially after two straight weeks in the Middle East too. Like, have some mercy on us.”

Victoria chuckled. In the background, Emma could hear the sounds of her 2 boys playing together. “So, how are things going with Max? Is he being nice to you?”

Emma had to tamp down a laugh at the sheer absurdity of the question. “He’s fine. More than fine, actually.” She said, voice shaky.

That seemed to pique Victoria’s interest. “Oh?”

If there was one thing that Victoria was good at, it was letting Emma talk at her own pace. She could tell there was something there, something deeper going on that had prompted the call from the way Emma ended that sentence but she knew better than to push. Victoria knew that pushing Emma on anything would only result in her shutting down. From the way her voice wavered when she had answered her question, Victoria knew that this was going to take a little cajoling.

“You know how we got that really bad storm in Monaco Tuesday night?”

“Yeah. It sounded pretty crazy from your texts. You’re not the biggest fan of thunderstorms, are you?”

Emma chuckled, dragging a single finger through the sun-warmed sand. “Not at all.”

“So…” Victoria prompted again, patiently waiting for her best friend to spill.

“Once we stopped texting, I was all alone and I started to get really anxious. So anxious that I started baking.”

On the other end of the line, Victoria winced. She knew Emma stress-baked while she was anxious but it usually had to be pretty bad for her to switch the oven on that late at night. She idly wondered where her brother was going to come into play in this story.

“And then Max found me in his kitchen at 2 in the morning.”

“He did? Was he sleepwalking? Usually once that man is asleep, he is out for the night.”

Emma was surprised to hear this because she knew how quiet she had been that night. It made her wonder why Max had woken up in the first place. She had just assumed he was a light sleeper and that she had been too loud.

“No, he was wide awake. I think the lights in the kitchen woke him up or something.”

Another beat of silence. Victoria was clearly trying to piece things together. Emma knew she was dragging the story out far too dramatically but she was seriously reconsidering what she was about to confess. “And then what happened?” Victoria asked softly.

Emma hesitated, the image of Max’s concerned face in the dim kitchen light flashing through her mind. “He…he was really nice about it, Vic. He didn’t make fun of me for being scared, didn’t say I was being stupid or say my baking was a dumb or anything. He just, sort of stayed. And then the storm got worse and…” Emma draws in a big breath, closing her eyes. “And by then it was nearly 3 in the morning and we had a flight to catch, so he wanted me to get some sleep but I knew I wasn’t going to be able to sleep so he asked if I wanted to try sleeping with him…”

The last bit of the story comes out in a hurried rush and Emma shuts her eyes tight as soon as the truth is out in the open. For a moment, Victoria is quiet, like she was trying to figure out how to respond. “You slept with him in his bed?”

Emma can’t read her best friend’s tone so she just replies with a simple “Yeah.” Before she squeezes her eyes tighter. Here it comes. The anger. The explosion. The accusal of betrayal.

A longer silence stretched between them. Emma could practically hear Victoria’s mind racing all the way across the Atlantic Ocean.

Finally, Victoria was able to form a proper sentence. “Well, it’s about damn time.”

“Wait. What?” Emma’s head spins. “You’re not mad? Worried? Disappointed?”

“Mad? Oh my God, Em! I’ve been waiting for something like this to happen between you two since like, day one. Disappointed? Why on earth would I be disappointed? My best friend might be finally be realizing what an amazing guy my incredibly stubborn brother is!”

Emma let out a shaky laugh, the butterflies in her stomach settling into something almost manageable as she realized her feelings for Max might not cost her her best friend. “It’s so complicated though, Vic! He’s my boss! I could lose my job. What if it was just a one time thing? A pity snuggle, if you will?”

The laugh that bursts out of Victoria has Emma laughing uncertainly herself. “I’m dying at the term ‘pity snuggle’, please. Max hates being touched, hates people in his space so the fact that he allowed you to sleep in his bed? That man is down bad for you.”

“I don’t know, Vic. What if I’m reading way too much into this? And I ruin our friendship? I don’t want to lose him in my life. I don’t want to mess this up.”

“Okay, hold on. Breathe.” Victoria says firmly. “First of all, you’re amazing at your job. There’s no way he would ever fire you, the entire senior leadership team at Red Bull would riot. You’ve whipped that man into shape quicker than anyone on staff has been able to. Secondly, my brother may be a stupid idiot, but he’s not cruel. If he didn’t have feelings for you, he wouldn’t have had you in his bed, he wouldn’t have comforted you like that.” Victoria pauses for a moment, as if she wants to let Emma absorb everything that she’s saying. “And third, I know you have your reasons to be caution and to not trust someone’s intentions but Max isn’t them, Em. He’s a decent guy when he’s not yelling at GP about how shit his steering is.”

Emma snort laughed at that but found herself nodding along. “I know.” She whispered, willing her head to go along with the logic that her heart was already trying to follow. “He texted me last night. I didn’t see it until this morning but he wants to talk.”

“Okay! This is good!” Victoria started.

“Good? Vic! No one ever started a good conversation off with ‘we need to talk’. Never!”

Victoria hummed, “See, normally you’re right but this is Max we’re talking about. He texts like a 70 year old most of the time, he probably just thought this was easiest.”

Emma squinted at the horizon. That didn’t quite sound like the Max she knew. He was always texting her. Stories about what Helmut was bitching about that day, questions about her day, quick check-ins. But, she reminded herself, this was Victoria’s brother so she probably knew better.

“Just see what he has to say and then go from there. Because I’m guessing that you’ve spent the last however many days spiraling in your head.”

“I hate how predictable I am.” Emma grumbled, rolling her eyes.

Victora chuckles, “Please for the love of all that is holy, my dear, stop overthinking everything that happens. It’s okay to maybe allow yourself to want this, Em.”

And that was the exact problem, wasn’t it? Because if Emma started to want this thing between her and Max to take root in her heart and grow into something, that meant opening herself up to a new level of hurt she wasn’t even sure she’d be able to ever come back from.

********

‘Yeah, I think we do. After the sprint today though. Focus on the race, k?

Max stared down at the text Emma had sent him a few hours ago. He’d been at the track early, preferring to spend the morning of a race day alone, getting into his head. Sometimes Emma drove with him but more often than not, she found her way to the track on her own. Max hadn’t even bothered asking her if she wanted to come with him because his text had gone unanswered last night. Anxiety had churned in his stomach until well past midnight. He assumed she had just fallen asleep early but the ‘what ifs’ played over and over in his head until the sleep had finally swept him under.

The reply had come just as he was walking out of his hotel room, the relief of Emma finally answering him had felt like a cold splash of water in the middle of the Miami heat. He wasn’t entirely sure how he was supposed to focus on anything other than finally getting everything out in the open though. If he’d had his way, Max would have gone right over to her room that morning before leaving but he knew he shouldn’t push her.

He knew Emma’s routine on a race weekend by now and as he checked his watch for what felt like the fifth time in sixty seconds, he frowned. She was late. He scanned the Red Bull hospitality suite looking for the familiar shock of long blonde hair, listened for her laugh but…nothing.

“Hey, Laurie, have you seen Emma?”

The PR intern that Emma was particularly close with swiveled her head in Max’s direction, cheeks going a bit pink. “Oh! Um! No, not this morning. She was still getting ready when I had to leave so she said she’d grab an Uber.”

Max frowned. It was nearly time for him to get in the car for the sprint race. It was pouring rain, a random storm popping up wasn’t unheard of in the spring but the torrent of rain that beat against the windows was going to make the sprint race interesting for sure. They were already talking about a delay. Max was hoping the rain would hold though. He drove his best in the wet and he’d need every ounce of luck he had to pull out a decent finish today.

“It’s going to take her forever to get here, what with the traffic and now with this rain.” He murmured, more to himself than to Laurie, who looked like she didn’t quite know how to respond. His eyes flicked over to the brunette, seemingly suddenly realizing that she was still waiting for him to talk. “Will you let me know if she shows up?”

Laurie nodded, a smile touching her lips before she turned around to continue on her way.

Max glanced at his phone again. He needed to get changed and then over to the garage for some last minute prep. He couldn’t hang around the hospitality area for much longer but there was something twisting in his stomach at the thought of not seeing Emma before he got in the car. It made him uncomfortable, not knowing if she was going to make it or not. Not knowing what she was going to say after the race. She could be prepared to end it right then. Maybe that was why she was late, she was busy trying to find a flight home or figure out what she was going to do after she quit.

“Max, you’ve got to start getting ready.” Rupert appears over his shoulder suddenly, tapping at his watch.

Max nodded, glancing at the door one last time. “Yeah. I’m going. Hey, if you see Emma can you let her know I’m looking for her.”

Rupert nodded, “Of course. She’ll be here soon, I’m sure.”

Max started towards the stairs that led to his drivers room as he pulled out his phone to type a message. Everything okay? You’re usually not this late…am I going to see you before I get in the car?

Three dots appeared almost instantly and then disappeared. Appeared again for a beat and then a message: traffic is a fucking nightmare. I’m so sorry I’m late, I’m trying.

Max shucked off his team kit before slipping into his fireproofs and race suit. As he started out towards the garage, he replied: Not mad, just be safe.

He tucked his phone back in his pocket, anxiety somewhat calmed knowing that Emma was on her way and wasn’t trying to flee the country. Max was finally able to switch into racing mode for what felt like the first time all day. He was meticulous about it, his preparation. Check in with GP, talk about setup, take a look at track conditions (terrible) and the weather (even worse), and then it was helmet on and time to focus.

There was still a bit of his attention that was elsewhere. Out of the corner of his eye, every flash of blonde caught his eye, tricking him into thinking it was Emma but as Max slipped on his racing boots, listening to GP talk about final setups he was still looking for her.

“Alright, lets get onto the grid. The race will probably be delayed because of the rain but they want us out there now.” GP said in his ear, yanking Max’s focus back to what mattered.

He’d have to get into the car without seeing her and it was driving him insane.

And then he saw it.

A flash of blonde hair followed by the voice that he could pick out of a loud room with ease. Emma. She had just jogged into the garage, gauzy white maxi skit swishing at her feet. She was flushed and slightly out of breath, like she’d run in from the paddock. Max was surprised to see one of his team jackets around her shoulders, a few sizes too big for her petite frame.

He was already half-way into the car, there was no way he could get out to go see her without causing a scene, something that he knew she wouldn’t like. So he settled for eye contact and a wink, both of which drew a small smile from her and it was enough to allow Max to focus on the task at hand.

And then the race went completely sideways.

*******

Emma watched in horror from the garage as Max’s race fell apart.

A pit lane mistake.

Damaged front wing.

Ten second penalty.

The sight of his name tumbling down to the bottom of the timing tower.

Everything went so bad so quick and Emma had to just sit and watch the entire thing play out in front of her. She had flashbacks to Bahrain, how angry Max had been with the team and himself afterwards. This was going to be worse. The mistake by the crew was inexcusable and from her spot in the viewing area in the garage, she could practically see steam pouring out of Christian’s ears.

She watched at Max got out of the car, do his post-race check-in with the FIA, and then make a beeline out of the garage. He didn’t even stop to say anything to GP, didn’t take his helmet off, nothing. She’d never seen him this angry and she didn’t quite know what to do. Part of her wanted to go running after him but Emma didn’t quite know her place here. She was his assistant, not family. She didn’t know if he’d want to see her, talk to her, especially with this thing they had hanging heavy between them. Now wasn’t the time to bring up personal shit, she knew that. Especially when she knew Max was going to have to regroup in just a few hours and somehow put together a good qualifying session.

“Emma.” Her head snapped in the direction of her name being called. She was surprised to see it was GP. “Go make sure he’s okay, yeah?”

Emma bit her lip, eyes bouncing between where the engineer stood and the door that Max had just stormed out of. “Are you sure?”

GP nodded, removing his headset and placing it on the counter beside him. “You’re probably the only who he’ll see right now. He needs you.”

Emma’s heart thudded at GP’s words. She didn’t know if she trusted her instincts here but she trusted GP, he’d known Max for years. Emma nodded, something in her chest clicking into place, a surge of nervous energy cutting through her. She didn’t hesitate, turning and practically jogging towards the door Max had just disappeared through. She knew the layout of the paddock well enough to know that he was probably on his way back to his drivers room at the back of Red Bull’s hospitality.

Getting through the crowded paddock wasn’t all that difficult and before she knew it, Emma was standing outside the door of Max’s drivers room, her hand hovering over the cool metal handle. A thousand things raced through her mind. Was there anything helpful she could say in the moment? Was GP right, did he need her? Would he even want to see her? Would her anxieties be proven right and would he fire her on the spot?

She needed to stop spiraling. Victoria’s words played in her head: Max wasn’t cruel. He didn’t do things that he didn’t want to. He cared about her. She wanted to badly to believe that, to know that on the other side of this door, she’d find the Max she’d begun falling for the moment he came to her rescue at Victoria’s request.

Taking a deep breath, she knocked softly, so softly she barely made a sound against the door. Without waiting for a response, her anxiety and need to put eyes on Max, overriding any sense of propriety, she pushed it open and stepped inside.

The room was dim, the curtains drawn against the relentless Miami sun. Max was standing at the window, his back to her, and his shoulders were slumped in a way she hadn’t seen from him since Bahrain. The air in the room was thick with raw frustration and disappointment.

He didn’t turn around immediately and for one heart-wrenching moment, Emma wondered if she’d made a mistake. Maybe he did want to be alone. Maybe GP had been wrong and she’d overstepped once again. Her mother’s voice started to sound in her head. She’d made another mistake and this one was going to cost her.

“Max?” She called softly, barely loud enough for him to hear.

But he did. Max’s shoulders tensed almost imperceptibly. He remained still for another beat and then slowly, deliberately he turned.

The sight of his face made Emma’s heart clench. His usual sharp, focused gaze was clouded with a raw mixture of anger and hurt. Jaw tight, there was a muscle twitching in his cheek, he looked lost. Heartbroken. Defeated. Vulnerable in a way that Emma knew no one else got to see.

When his eyes focused on her, when he realized who it was that was in his room to see his despair though, something shifted. The anger didn’t completely vanish, but a flicker of surprise, then something softer, warmer, replaced some of the harshness. It was like a dam had cracked, allowing Emma a glimpse of the vulnerability he usually kept so fiercely guarded.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. The only sound in the room was the soft ticking of the clock that hung above the doorway behind Emma. Max’s gaze searched hers, a silent question in his stormy blue eyes. And in that moment, standing in the dim quiet of his drivers room, surrounded by the remnants of a disastrous race, all of the carefully constructed walls they had both erected to keep each other out since Monaco crumbled away like sand castles at high tide.

All that was left was the raw, undeniable connection that had sparked between them on a sidewalk in the middle of a Monegasque neighborhood. A connection neither of them could, or would, deny any longer. Emma searched Max’s face for confirmation that she wasn’t the only one feeling the seismic shift between them. That she wasn’t alone in the way she felt the air turn warm, anticipatory almost. What she saw in Max’s eyes wasn’t the anger or frustration that had been so plainly laid across his face just moments before. No, that was gone. What she saw was a deep, almost desperate longing, a desire that she hadn’t ever seen turned in her direction in her entire life.

In that moment, Emma knew. Emma knew so profoundly and certainly that GP had been right. Max did need her. And more than that, she realized that she terrifyingly, desperately, needed Max too. Needed him in a way that she had never let herself need someone before because she’d never been allowed to need someone in the way that she needed Max. It was almost a need on a molecular level. A magnetic level.

“You came.” Max said roughly, almost a whisper, as if he couldn’t quite wrap his brain around the fact that she had come after him. The anger still simmered beneath the surface, that was evident in the tightness of his jaw, but the surprise of seeing Emma there in his drivers room, still tucked into his jacket, had momentarily eclipsed it.

Emma’s heart clenched at the need in his voice, the statement that was so raw and vulnerable. “Of course I did.” She replied softly, her voice trembling a bit. She took a small step further into the room. “You needed me.” It wasn’t a question, just a simple statement of fact, finally a recognition of the bond that had formed between them over the last weeks they’d spent together.

With one statement, one look, the professional boundaries, the carefully constructed walls, meant nothing. All that mattered was the fact that both Emma and Max were finally ready to admit there was something raw and real between them, something that couldn’t be denied any longer because it was making the both of them miserable.

A flicker of something that looked a lot like relief washed over Max’s face, softening the harsh lines of the lingering anger. He took one step. And then another. One last one and he had closed the distance between them. His eyes searched hers, a silent plea for reassurance. He didn’t want to make the same mistake as before, didn’t want to push her into something that she regretted. But something in Max’s heart told him that the night in Monaco that he’d held her until she’d felt safe enough to sleep wasn’t a mistake, it hadn’t been something she regretted.

Without another word, without hesitation, he reached out, his rough hands framing the softness of her face. His thumbs brushed softly against her cheeks, the touch sending a delicious shiver down her spine. Emma’s breath caught, her own hands rising instinctively to capture his wrists, fingers gripping him tightly.

His gaze dropped to hers for one single, fleeting moment and a silent question passed between them. They both knew that there was no going back after this. If they crossed this line, everything was going to change. Everything would become real, the feelings that had been simmering just below the surface would be out in the open. No take backs. Nothing. It was a prospect that both terrified and thrilled Emma as she let her eyes dip from Max’s intense gaze down to his lips and quickly back up again.

And then, Max closed the remaining distance, his mouth finding hers in a kiss that was both desperate and tender all at the same time. It wasn’t a gently brush like the almost-kiss in Monaco. This was a calming kiss. A release of all the pent-up emotions, the fear, the longing, the unspoken connection that had been simmering between them since the moment Max had rescued her in his green Aston Martin.

Emma met his kiss with a fervor of her own. All of her anxieties and uncertainties melted away the moment Max’s lips pressed into hers, warm and unyielding, demanding and gentle all at the same time. The world outside of the room they stood in ceased to exist. The disastrous race, the difficult season, the weight of a difficult family situation. It all fell away and the world around them quieted.

The kiss deepened, the initial urgency softening into tender exploration. Max’s hands tightened slightly on Emma’s face, his thumb stroking her cheek gently as his lips moved over hers with a sort of reverence she had never felt before. Emma leaned into the kiss, her own hands sliding up his arms, the rough fabric of his race suit scratching against the palms of her hands. The lingering scent of burnt rubber and motor oil clung to him but none of that mattered to Emma. All that mattered was that Max was kissing her and she had never felt like this in her entire life.

His lips parted slightly, his tongue tracing the seam of her lips and Emma opened for him, sighing with relief at the feeling of having him so close. Her hips tipped forward, desperate for their own friction and Max dropped a hand to her waist, pulling her impossibly closer into his body. He needed to be closer to her, needed to feel how she responded to him, how she opened for him in a desperate attempt to show him how much she needed him, wanted him.

The anxiety that had been a constant companion to them both over the last few days began to recede, replaced by a warmth that shimmered between them. Something clicked into place and it was like this was how it was always supposed to be. Emma’s arms instinctively circled his neck, her fingers tangling in the hair at the nape of his neck. The nearness of him, the solid feel of his body against hers, it all felt like coming home. It was a sense of belonging with someone, to someone, that Emma hadn’t realized she’d been searching for.

The kiss finally softened, their lips parting with a soft sigh. A breathess silence hung between them for a moment, the weight of the past few days lifting with each breath. Emma’s forehead rested against Max’s chest, the steady beat of his heart a comforting rhythm.

A small smile tugged at the corner of Max’s lips. “Well,” He murmured into her hair, voice still husky. “That definitely wasn’t in your job description.”

Emma chuckled, pulling back slightly to look up at him, cheeks flushed a pretty shade of pink. Max decided then and there that shade of pink was his new favorite color. “Hmm…” she mused, grinning wickedly. “Maybe I should add ‘proficient in stress-reducing strategies’ to my resume now. Think HR will approve?”

Max’s grin widened, the tension that had been clouding his features since Emma had walked through the door finally easing. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to the curve of her neck, the warmth of his mouth on her skin sending a shiver down Emma’s spine.

“As much as I’d like to thoroughly discuss the finer points of that particular skill set,” He murmured against her skin, “I think the FIA might have something to say about me me missing the entirety of my media duties if I don’t get into the media pen in the next ten minutes.” He pulled away slightly, a wry smile on his face.

Emma shook her head, “Who would’ve thought it would be you reminding me about being on time to media duties.”

Max rolled his eyes before turning to grab his water bottle from the couch behind him. When he faced Emma again, his heart clenched at the sheer happiness sitting brightly on her face. He decided then and there that he’d spend the rest of his life making sure Emma always looked like that when she looked at him.

“Come on, Sunshine,” He started, holding his hand out to twine his fingers with his. “We don’t want to keep the media waiting.”

#max verstappen #max verstappen fic #max verstappen oc #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen imagine

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paulyenvol6 · 1 day ago

Text

The Bolter

I really want to write a part 4 but I don't really know where this could go, so if you have any suggestions feel free to let me know :) Also, I cried while writing this so there you go.

Part 1 and 2

Contains: fluff, so much cuteness, mentions of pregnancy, reader giving birth to their child, description of pain and discomfort, Joel being a dream, soft and sweet Joel, established relationship

Wordcount: 5,113

Masterlist

5 Months later

"Joel, can you grab my mug for me real quick?" you said over your shoulder, your face tensing in pain at the slightest movement.

"Course, sweetheart."

You listened to his footsteps behind you with your eyes closed, then opened them as you felt the cushions of the sofa give way to the weight of his body as he sank down on them with an exhale.

"Here you go."

You gave him a smile, gratefully taking the cup of tea from his hand and brought it to your lips to blow some air over the boiling hot liquid.

"Thanks."

Joel smiled as well and then moved closer to you, a hand wrapping around your shoulders and his body offering you support with the way he slid behind you so that you could settle against his chest.

"That comfortable, darlin'?" he wanted to know, quietly whispering in your ear because he knew how much you currently hated loud noises.

"Yeah," you replied, shifting one last time to adjust your round belly and then sighing as you dropped your head to his shoulder.

"S'fuckin' killin' me, Joel," you mumbled and were so thankful for the way he knew you so goddamn well. You were at a state in your pregnancy where you couldn't stand too much physical touch which was why Joel kept his hands rested on your bicep, securing you so that you didn't have to hold yourself up, but not stroking patterns over your skin like he usually would. He was listening to you, paying attention to your words and the reaction of your body and you appreciated it so much.

"I'm sorry. I'm really sorry you have to go through this. Can I do anythin'? Anythin' you want, just gotta ask me."

You hummed, but shook your head while you scratched with the nail of your thumb over the rough fabric of his jeans.

"No. Just wanna sit here like his. Although… can you…" – you slightly sat up – "Can you give me a massage? The thing you do with your knuckles?"

His lips curled into a broad smile and happy to do something helpful, Joel brushed your hair over your shoulders to have access to your back.

"Sure. I told ya, whatever you want. Just needa ask me, baby…"

He began by pressing two of his knuckles into the skin between your shoulderblades, a treatment you had started to fall in love with over the past months. It was nothing more than a simple massage, but you enjoyed it so much, the tension in your body magically disappearing whenever he rubbed your back, that you had recently asked him to do it more often.

"Joel," you said while he worked on your back, your hands gently caressing your round belly and your eyes still shut.

"Yeah?"

"I'm a little bit scared."

He ran his eyes over your profile, his expression softening at the way you nervously sucked your bottom lip into your mouth.

"Of the pain? Or of what comes after?"

"Both, I think."

Joel thought about it for a second before swallowing to remove the lump that had formed in his throat.

"I can't tell you that the pain is nothing 'cause it probably isn't nothing, but what I can tell you is that you're fuckin' strong and brave and that I don't think there's anythin' in the world you can't do. I'm really sorry that you're gonna have to endure it and it's okay and normal to be scared of it, but I know that you're gonna do amazing."

He gulped again, looking at his fingers that were still carefully kneading your back and then continued.

"And about the after… I know s'gonna be fine. You know what my mother told me once? She said that right before she gave birth to me, she was so overwhelmed she thought all of this would be a total mess. She didn't know what she was doin' and neither did my dad and they knew nothing 'bout parenting and stuff. But they did it. Of course it wasn't always easy, she said that too, but she told me that the second she held me in her arms the first time she just knew that it would be fine. I don't think many parents feel prepared or ready before their child comes and maybe you just can't prepare yourself for it. At least entirely. I think you learn over time an' you… you know, you pick up skills and… and make experiences and then everything comes together."

Joel glanced at your profile again, the butterflies in his stomach excitedly fluttering at your shy smile.

"Are you scared?" you then asked and a quiet chuckle left his throat.

"Of course. I'm scared every moment. But I have you. We have each other an' we have all these other people like Tommy and Maria and…" – he laughed out again – "Ellie."

You joined in the laughter and opened your eyes to peek behind you, your eyes meeting and a warm shudder going through your body at his soft brown eyes.

"Can you imagine Ellie babysitting?" Joel laughed, the vibrations transferring from his hands to your body.

"Honestly, why not? I'd just be scared that she gives the child a gun or somethin' or tells horror stories."

He scoffed, quietly shaking his head and then pressed a brief kiss on your shoulder.

"Anyways, the point is that I'm scared as shit. And that I'm wondering what I'm doin' every moment of my life. But what's more important is that I know that we're gonna do this together. And – And I know you can't just switch these fears off like that, but you have to know that I'm never gonna let anythin' happen to you, I'm never gonna leave you alone or abondon you or – or let ya down."

Joel's hands on your back tightened like he wanted to prove something. "You have me."

You swallowed loudly, the lump in your throat thickening at the gravity of his words, quickly blinking a few tears away.

"Thank you, Joel. Seriously. S'kinda helpin', I think."

He nodded although you couldn't see it and then continued to silently knead your aching back until he heard your breath getting heavier a few minutes later and a quick glance at your profile showed him that you had fallen asleep.

He smirked to himself, gently caressing your shoulderblades and thought about it for a second before deciding not to wake you. You were exhausted and had a lot of trouble sleeping in your current state, so he didn't want to deprive you of a good night's rest even if he had to remain in this position behind you that started to feel uncomfortable for him.

Joel's legs had begun to ache, his thighs buzzing, but he knew if he moved a single muscles you, who had a very light sleep these days, might wake up. In the end, it wasn't even a question. Joel didn't move an inch even when his limbs started to burn and endured it until you eventually woke up at around 12pm, your searching hands reaching behind to see whether Joel was still there.

"Joel?" you mumbled, slightly turning in his hold which made his eyes flutter. He wasn't asleep yet, but had been close to dozing off.

"Yes, honey. You wanna go to bed?"

His mind was immediately wide awake, the sting in his numb legs returning and to his relief you nodded and attempted to rise from your position between his spread legs. Joel quickly put his hands on your hips, supporting you as you stood up with wobbly knees.

"Careful, pumpkin. Lemme help you."

You hummed, your eyes closed as the drowsiness threatened to pull you over the edge again at any moment and so Joel was fast to follow you, stepping behind you to lead you into the bedroom.

"There ya go…," he whispered, an arm wrapped around your shoulders so you wouldn't bump into the door frame and then guiding you to sit down on the bed.

"You need anythin'? Are you hungry or thirsty or cold?"

You shook your head as Joel pulled back the blanket for you to crawl under, tucked you in and then sat down on the edge.

"You sure, love?"

"Yes, Joel," you breathed, the exhausted expression on your face turning into one of love and affection as you felt his large hand cradling your head.

You smiled and leaned into his touch while your boyfriend was watching you through soft eyes, looking at you like you were the only thing in this room or perhaps even the world. His mouth was in a thin line, but not in the way that he was angry or upset, but rather a deep and grave longing, the fear of losing what was right in front of him because Joel knew that he loved again. And he had sworn to himself so many times to never allow it again, never let anyone under his skin, but here he was now and it felt so goddamn good and right.

It felt like his heart was being ripped out of his chest, but in a beautiful and comfortable way. They were tender hands with soft skin that smelled like you that had taken his heart from him and somehow it felt like these hands were not only carrying it to somewhere safe, guarding and protecting it, but had also taken a huge burden from him that he hadn't even been aware of before.

Joel leaned down to kiss your cheek and when he straightened up again he believed that he could feel a tear rolling down his face.

"I love you," he whispered, the emotion showing in his voice and then cleared his throat as he walked around the bed to lay down as well. You hadn't replied, your chest rising steadily so you were probably already sound asleep.

The next day started pleasantly and somehow you felt better than you had in weeks. Perhaps it was the sun shining through the window or the fact that you woke up with Joel's hand holding yours, but for the first time in a month you hadn't opened your eyes with the urge to complain about your physical state.

You even crawled to your boyfriend who was hugging a pillow in his sleep and instantly felt your insides clench at the picture. Although Joel would probably sooner die than let anyone know, he was an extremely touchy and affectionate person who loved to have a hand on your waist or on your thigh or hug you as many times a day as possible or just sit with you snuggled up against his chest. And right now, with your pregnancy making you reluctant to get too close to anyone, he clearly missed having his arms around you, but of course he was too caring to let you know.

But right now he looked so comfortable and you longed for his closeness and despised the fact that he had wrapped his arms around a pillow instead of you, so you carefully took it away and replaced it with your own body leaning against his broad frame. You lay with your head on his chest, peacefully listening to his heartbeat and your hands grabbing his to toy with his fingers.

Although you had tried not to wake him, his eyelids fluttered after a few minutes, his mouth opening as if he wanted to ask something, but then he smiled at the wonderful view that you were offering him.

"Honey…," he whispered and blinked to get rid of the sleep in his eyes. He squeezed your hand, running his thumb over your knuckles and then bent his neck to kiss your hair.

"That's a nice thing to wake up to," he mumbled which made you smile from ear to ear and it only consolidated when Joel brought a hand to your belly to follow the curve.

"How're you feelin'?"

"I'm good, actually," you replied, turning your head to kiss his collarbone as a proof and then darted up to him.

"I slept well. Better than yesterday."

Joel pursed his lips looking at you, his eyes sparkling with so much warmth and depth, you just wanted to carve this picture in your head for enternity, restoring it whenever you craved his expression of pure love and he wasn't around. Which you hoped you would never need because you expected him to be around you every single second anyway.

"That's good to hear, honey," Joel whispered, his voice hoarse and husky from the sleep and his eyelids fluttering as the warmth of your body embraced him so wonderfully, he knew he could go right back to sleep.

Therefore the two of you spent a lazy morning, cuddling and dozing until the sun was high in the sky and even when the two of you decided to get up, you took all the time you needed and eventually had a long and extensive breakfast, or rather lunch.

It was 3pm when it started. It was a quick moment of pain that went as sudden as it had come but it had knocked the air out of your lungs.

"Joel," you warned, concentrating on your breathing, your hand pressed on your stomach.

"What is it, darling?"

He was immediately at your side, stabilising you, who had needed the support of the edge of the table to keep yourself steady.

"Contractions. I don't know, I – Fuckkkk."

Joel's eyes popped open as he watched your profile with concern. He felt you reach for his hand and clenched his jaw in pain as you squeezed it tightly, but didn't hesitate a minute to offer you his other hand as well.

"Okay, honey, do you wanna go to the hospital? I can take you there right now if you think - "

"No we gotta wait. We gotta see how much time there is between the… Oh fuck, Joel, I…"

You couldn't finish the sentence and instead let out a long whine, that excruciatingly rang in his ears. He felt helpless watching you cringe and hunch over in discomfort and just wanted to do anything to make you feel better. Anything to make it more bearable and the fact that there was nothing he could do but hold your hand and wait for you to tell him what you needed nearly drove him insane.

"S'okay. We'll wait 'n' meisure the time. Just tell me if you need anythin'. And we can go to the hospital, it's fine. Even if the baby's not comin' yet, we can just go to check if – if everything's fine and maybe they can do something about the pain, n' give you some positions that are more comfortable..."

It turned out the child was in fact coming.

The rest of the day was a chaotic and overwhelming mess with your body experiencing contractions in short intervals until Joel drove you to the hospital and then everything was a fever dream.

You remembered Joel guiding you into a room, you lying down on the bed while he sat on a chair next to you and his hand never letting go of yours. And then there had been nurses scurrying around you and you had closed your eyes, a mixture of excitement and fear flooding your veins and when you had looked at Joel you had seen the same emotions in his deep brown eyes.

"It's gonna be fine, pumpkin. It's gonna be fine, I swear you're gonna do so well," he had whispered as he had pressed a kiss to your hand and then the doctor had entered the room.

Later, you couldn't remember everything. There had obviously been a lot of pain and a lot of blood, which had frightened you so much that you had probably marked Joel's hand for all time, but he hadn't even flinched with his lashes as he let you abuse his poor palm.

You were in labour until almost 11pm, which to you had felt like 2 days, but eventually you had done it. Your face was covered with tears, but by now the majority of them were tears of indescribable and intangible joy. Sweat pooled on your forehead and dripped down your temples, but you couldn't have cared less. Because you had done it. You had given birth to a sweet little baby girl that was now given to you from the doctor.

"Meet your daughter," she softly whispered and placed the little creature on your chest.

A broken sob went past your lips and you felt Joel's grip on your hand tighten as your exhausted eyes took her in. Her eyes were closed and her lips a little bit parted and she… she simply looked so beautiful. For all the evil and terror you had seen in your life, you had also seen a lot of beautiful things, but this… this little girl you were holding in your arms right now was surpassing everything.

"Hi there..." you said, a strange mixture of cry and laugh, as you lowered your face to press a gentle kiss to her scrunched nose. Joel to your left chuckled, but it had more similarities with a sob as well.

"Hi… you look so beautiful... So strong and so fierce… You're not scared of anything, are you? You're gonna move mountains, my sweet girl..."

You giggled again when she wrinkled her nose, but it was hard to make out a lot through the veil of tears that hung like a curtain over your vision. Still it was hard to take your eyes off your daughter, your perfect wonderful daughter, but you eventually did it to glare at Joel.

"Do you wanna hold her?" you cried, pressing your lips together as your body trembled and shook, your chest heaving with the joy and relief of it all.

And looking at him was giving you the rest. The man with whom you had created this beautiful life. The man you had met two years ago and you had believed it to be either a miracle or just a dream. The man who had then left you, causing you to fall into a deep and dark hole, but then had come back and you were never going to let him go. The man you thought about before you went to bed and the moment you woke up. The man who was so closely connected to you, your life's energy seemed to drain away when he was away from you. The man who had stolen your heart.

Joel nodded and if you had been able to see properly you would have seen the traces of old tears on his cheeks as well as the new ones that were creating a path across his face, shimmering like the bright first light of dawn.

"Yeah," he said like he was out of breath and then took his daughter into his arms for the first time with shaky hands.

All you could do was silently stare. Truthfully, you weren't entirely silent because you just couldn't stop crying and sniffling, but who cared. You watched his beautiful face contort, the purest form of love taking control of each muscle and fibre in Joel's face and drawing it to look the most tender and loving you had ever seen him.

"She…," he breathed, but couldn't end the sentence.

She looks so tiny in his arms, you thought, your chest clenching and your mind realising that these were the two most important people in your life.

"Yeah," you said, bringing a hand to your eyes to rub and wipe away a few drops of salty tears so you could see better.

"What do you wanna name her?" Joel asked without taking his eyes off her for a single moment. You hiccuped in response and then gulped as you chewed on the inside of your cheek.

"I was thinking…," you began with your thin voice. "I was thinkin' Tess."

Joel had told you a lot about his best friend from back then, about his adventures with her and Tommy and you knew how much she meant to him. Honouring her by naming your baby girl after her seemed fitting. Of course you had briefly thought about Sarah as well, but had quickly come to the conclusion that Joel might feel like he was replacing his daughter, so you had discarded that thought.

Now brown puppy eyes stared at you that seemed to make the world around you turn and tremble. All you could see was him, your surroundings blurry and unimportant as Joel drew his eyebrows together.

"Really?" he choked and chewed on his bottom lip as he was clearly trying to fight another wave of tears.

"Yes," you replied and then moved your daughter to lay on your chest again with hands that were trembling so hard, Joel obligingly assisted you.

Then he swallowed the lump in his throat, his fingers intertwined and his eyes fixed on you as if to make sure this was real.

And then he slowly nodded while reaching for one of your hands, squeezing it lightly and feeling his lower lip twitch.

"Tess."

Three weeks later

It was a cold day with the wind outside howling as if it were singing a song, so you were especially grateful for your warm blanket when you woke up.

"Mhmmm," you made, rolling to your side to face Joel only to find… an empty spot.

You frowned and let out another sigh while running your eyes over the drawn back blanket.

Where was he?

It was so warm beneath the sheets, such a heavenly contrast to the cutting cold outside of the walls of your house and you had looked forward to spending the first few minutes of the day tucked in while cuddling with Joel, but now you found you had no choice but to get up and see why he had left the bed so early.

So you kicked the blanket away with your feet and then climbed off the bed with rather clumsy movements. Just as you were grabbing a sweater to pull over your pyjamas, you heard the first drops of rain fall on the veranda outside and regretted Joel's absence even more. Once you had put on the piece of clothing as well as some warm socks you opened the door to the bedroom and lazily searched the hallway.

"Joel?" you shouted and then listened precisely for an answer. Which didn't come.

"Joel?" you said again, louder this time and now there was a noise that made you purse your lips.

"In here!" his voice echoed against the walls and you realised he was in Tess' room.

Your feet dragged sloppily across the floor as you made your way to the door, your head still trying to fight off drowsiness and your eyes struggling to stay open. You carefully opened the door so you wouldn't wake your daughter in case she was still asleep but when you peeked inside the room your saw her in Joel's arms, gently rocking her from side to side.

"Hi pumpkin," he whispered giving you a bright smile and although his face lit up at the sight of you, you noticed that he looked tired.

"Good morning, Joel. Are you alright? How long have you been awake?"

He lifted his eyebrows and dropped his gaze to Tess again who softly gurgled in his hold.

"Oh, a couple of hours. I woke up because she was crying and then I went to her but she just wouldn't stop so I did the one thing that I know always helps and it did. I was just about to put her back in the cradle."

Your lips curled into a grin and you approached Joel to brush over your daughter's head.

"You played her something on the guitar?"

"Yes. At first, I didn't want to 'cause I was scared it'd wake you up, but I figured her crying would've woken you up anyway."

Joel smiled and then leaned in to kiss you.

"Sorry, my breath is terrible," you giggled and tried to wriggle away, but he grabbed the side of your face and held you close, devouring your lips until he finally pulled away.

"Don't ya worry about that."

You bit your bottom lip while Joel carefully put Tess in her cradle again and then crossed your arms in front of your chest.

"But you know you could've woken me up as well. You didn't get a lot of sleep, Joel and you know how I feel about you goin' on patrols and hunting and stuff without being properly rested."

He tilted his head and then approached you, grabbing your waist with his large hands and pulling you snugly to his body.

"I know. But I wanted you to sleep. You need a proper rest, too. An' I don't go on patrol today."

You furrowed your forehead and slid your arms around his head, toying with the babyhair in his neck.

"Really? I thought…"

"Jesse's going in my place. I..." - Joel smiled crookedly - "I think Tommy wants us to have a day just the two of us. He said Jesse will do the patrol and he said he and Maria will take Tess for the day so we can relax a bit."

You wore a toothy grin as your finger trailed up his jawline until it came to a stop on his cheek.

"Really?"

"Yes. They have Benji, they know what it can be like with a newborn. He said that's what he wished for sometimes in the first few months after they had him."

Joel tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and then gently turned you in his hold to guide you out of the room so you wouldn't wake Tess again now that she was sleeping peacefully.

"Let's have breakfast now. I made pancakes."

Your eyebrows shot up in surprise, your heart feeling like it was growing wings as you leaned into Joel's hand that was warm and comfortable on your waist.

"Really?" you breathed, thinking that there was no way he was real.

"Yeah. I made them before I brought her back to her room."

"Thank you, Joel," you whispered, the love you felt for him making you want to cry, but you somehow felt it wouldn't be fitting so you just gulped and put your own hand over his palm pressed to your side.

"I love you."

He briefly pressed a kiss to your messy hair. Joel marvelled that you always seemed so taken aback when he made a gesture like that. Didn't you know that he would do anything for you? Making pancakes, taking care of your baby girl so you could sleep… Yes, these were nice things to do, but how was it possible that you still didn't seem to understand that he would do so much more just to see a faint smile on your lips. Just to see this beautiful sparkle in your eyes or make your cheeks flush in excitement.

"I love you, too. And you're welcome," he whispered and then pulled you through the kitchen door.

"Sit down, baby, okay? I'm gonna make some coffee or do you want some tea?"

You briefly thought about it while sinking down on a chair but then shook your head.

"Coffee is perfect."

He was just about to turn around when he saw a suspicious glint in your eyes and as he obviously couldn't pass over it, he stopped in the motion and glanced down to you.

"Baby… What is it?"

Now your bottom lip was trembling, your fingers grabbing the edge of the table and your nose wrinkling as you tried to hold yourself together.

"You… You're so sweet," you stuttered and felt a single tear roll down your cheeks when Joel wrapped his arms around your body, firmly holding you against his chest.

"Oh, darlin'… No reason to cry. You know that I would do anythin' for ya."

"Yeah, b-but… you're so kind a-and sometimes I just… I can't believe s'real."

He chuckled, inhaled the sweet scent of your hair and then nuzzled his nose against your scalp as he gently cradled your head.

"S'okay… I love you so fuckin' much, honey and I sometimes can't believe you're actually real."

Your frantic breathing slowly began to steady until Joel pulled away from you, his face softening at the redness around your eyes.

"Oh pumpkin…," he breathed and traced your cheekbone with his thumb. "I love you. I love you so goddamn much…"

'I love you so goddamn much, it sometimes hurts,' was what he had wanted to say but he found that perhaps it would be a strange choice of words, so he kept them to himself.

It was true, though. Sometimes, when he looked at you his chest tightened and his heart pounded so loudly he could hear and feel his rapid heartbeat in every fibre of his body. And there was this quivering rumbling through his abdomen like he was getting sick, but of course he wasn't actually. It was the opposite and felt rather plesant. More like… butterflies that were swirling and twirling and tingling in his stomach and while Joel knew he couldn't do anything about the tension and excitement, which was sometimes so bad, it bordered on the uncomfortable, he wouldn't want it any other way. He wouldn't want it to feel any different.

Joel wasn't always great at telling you how he felt. He had gotten better at it, sure, but he was more likely to show his affection through gestures and actions or even just a gentle smile and a hand on your body. No one who knew him would probably consider him a very 'smiley' person, but with you… God, he sometimes felt like a teenage boy who was in love for the first time.

He wanted to get better at the other stuff, too, though. Telling you how he felt, verbally expressing his love because you deserved to know how you had swept him off his feet the moment the two of you had met and continued to do so every single day.

So you had taught him, you had opened up to him, shown him that it was okay to be vulnerable and that it actually felt good to share your feelings. Joel had a lot of learning and unlearning to do, getting rid of thick layers of ice that he had built up over many years to protect himself, but he really was getting better.

Joel took a deep breath, still touching and soothing the hot skin of your face, and then leaned down to kiss your lips.

"I love you," he whispered over and over again as you parted your lips for him, and when he pulled away and straightened his spine, you wore a big smile on your face.

"Let's get ya somethin' to eat now," he whispered, his pulse thrumming at the sight of your dimples.

~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist:

@thoughts-of-bear-undercovers @bbabycass @pascal-mynightlyobsession @zelena89 @orcasoul

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johamfated · 15 hours ago

Text

Harry faltered to see Dumbledore looking so upset. So emotional. And he almost had to do a double take when the man reached out to touch him. He really seemed to have a knack for upsetting this man, without even meaning to. It was a little disconcerting.

But still, Harry could not bear to see the older man so broken. So guilt ridden. Blaming himself for something he had no control over. For something that Harry didn't even blame him for. "I - sir, I don't need you to be perfect." He reached into his robe and pulled out the image of the older Dumbledore. He turned it so that the other man could see it. "This man wasn't perfect. He made mistakes. He pissed me off at times. But that didn't matter. He was trying, and that's what mattered. I couldn't have cared less that he was as messed up as anyone else. I didn't care that he once considered taking over the world with his former dark wizard lover. I didnt care that he left me to my magic hating relatives to ensure I couldn't be touched by Tom Riddle. And I certainly don't care that you're just as a screwed up as he was."

Harry paused, catching his breath. He needed to make the other man understand. To see that his worth didn't come from what he could or couldn't do for Harry. Or from how broken he perceived himself to be. And it caused Harry's heart to ache, that here he was, again, defending Albus Dumbledore from his own demons.

"Does it pain me that you've given up on this war?" Harry continued, "Of course it does. Cause I know what your life could be like. But, that's not why I'm here. Not really. That isn't why I came looking for you. I don't want to fix you because I think you're broken. I just want you to see yourself the way I do. Because I love you. And yes, I know you're not strictly him. But you are, at the core. Your soul. You are him. And I can't just...all you ever did was try to help me. Look after me. You were always there when I needed you. And Merlin help me, but I want to do the same for you. Not to fix you, but to show you that you don't need to be perfect."

Harry fingers continued to itch, and he gave in. He leaned forward and pulled the older man closer, wrapping his arms around him, perhaps squeezing him a bit too tightly. But Harry wasn't sure he cared too much in this moment.

@regretismyconstantcompanion

Albus Dumbledore was sitting on the couch, staring into the fireplace that was across from him. The crackling of the flames was the only sound breaking the silence in the cottage that was nestled in the Scottish Highlands. It was isolated, miles away from even the nearest village. He had chosen it for that very reason, desperate for solitude even if it wasn't something that had been forced upon him. He had lost the duel against Grindelwald. He had known that had always been a possibility. There were equals after all and had known each other painfully well. They had spent that summer duelling, friendly but pushing each others boundaries. They had grown and changed and become more powerful but their tendencies had lingered. The fight had lasted well over an hour but in the end, Gellert had just gotten the better of him and managed to disarm him and send him flying backwards. His only minor consolation was the fight had left them both panting and injured. But it had been clear who the winner was. There was no backing out of the agreement they had made. His time in Nurmengard had been brief. A chance to recover from the duel before Gellert gave him an ultimatum. He could remain free if he agreed to leave Hogwarts and retreat from the Wizarding World. Albus had already known he would leave the school, for certainly he had lost that right when he had failed his students and the Wizarding World as a whole. He had agreed, knowing Gellert wasn't giving him a choice and not agreeing would result in either his death or being imprisoned in Nurmengard forever or the deaths of those he cared about. And so here he was, over a year after the duel. Staring into the fire, sitting beside a cup of tea that had long gone cold. Books had been removed from the overflowing bookshelves, scattered around the room. Some had been read, some he hadn't even yet opened. Plain parchment piled up on the desk. Few knew where he was and so letters came rarely. He had picked some of the fruit and vegetables he grew in a small garden he tended to. Perhaps he would make some jams and chutneys if he could find the strength and motivation. It came sometimes, mixed in with the heavy weight of despair that seemed to fill his waking hours. He had failed. He had let down the wizarding world and now he banished just beyond the world he loved so much. He knew what was happening there, of course. He did his best to learn of Gellerts ongoing plans and rise to power. Without him there, there was nothing to stop him. He knew the few Ministries that still existed moved against him but it wouldn't take much for them to fall. Everything would be lost then and Albus knew he was powerless to stop it. @johamfated

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wizard-on-whales · 2 days ago

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Imagine being someone close to James. I'm not talking about something quite like spouse but someone close. Maybe you both have known each other and been friends for years. You both feel so comfortable around each other and always go to one another when you just need someone to lean on. And yeah, maybe you both love each other in a way but you've always been too scared to do anything about it.

Maybe he invited you over for the evening to just hang out, have dinner watch a movie. At some point you fall asleep in the couch so he pulls a blanket up over you. When the movie is over he doesn't want to wake you up so he just scoops you into his arms and carries you to his bedroom, tucking you in. You've shared plenty of beds together over the years so it was nothing new. He crawls in next to you and scoots close but doesn't quite dare to place his arm around you.

Maybe it was after he had relapsed and realized he needed some help and support. He shows up at your door step, looking like a bit of a mess. You gladly open the door for him and pull him in. He didn't need to say anything, you just knew. You wrapped your arms around him and pull him down to your level, holding him close. Your nails gently scratch his back and you place a small kiss against his forehead. His body shakes lightly as he clings to you, letting out soft sobs.

Or when he injures himself in same way, your usually the one to baby him. After the pyro accident you spent a few months helping him put the burn cream over his arm because he was too scared to do it himself but he trusted you. Or when he's pulled something in his back you'll tell him to lay down so that you could rub it for him, easing some of the tension in his muscles. Or you just subconsciously picked up the habit of massaging his hands and forearms for him, knowing the get sore from frequent use from years of playing. And when he was a young drunk you couldn't count the amount of times you helped clean him up from throwing up on himself.

And of course he's returned the favor a few times, although you haven't hurt yourself nearly as much as he has. You were skiing together one time and you crashed into a tree, breaking your shoulder in the process. He had to help you get dressed and wash your hair until you had recovered. Thats when he had learned how to braid hair just to put it up for you. And another time you were standing at the stove cooking when you had accidentally burned yourself, he knew how painful that could be so even though it was one small burn on the side of your finger he babied you the rest of the night and finished cooking for you.

Sometimes he'll have trouble sleeping but he knows he can always rely on you. Maybe you went on tour with him and your room is just down the hall or you live just down the street so he'll make his way towards you and ask to lay down with you because he always sleeps better when your around, he says he feels safer that way. So he'll cuddle up under your sheets with your fingers running across his arm or through his hair, soothing him enough to quickly fall asleep. Or maybe your halfway across the world, but being on call with you for just a few moments would be enough to make him sleepy.

Or if his anxiety has been acting up, making his chest feel tight and his hands shakier than normal, you know all the ways to calm him down and make him feel better.

Maybe you two do eventually get together after years of denying being anything more than just friends. He might have been wedged under your car, fixing something on it for you when suddenly you hear him let out a string of curses. He wiggles out from under it and you see blood dripping down his arm. You pull him inside and to the bathroom, cleaning up the wound for him and making sure it didn't need stitches. His eyes stay on your face the entire time, trusting your hands enough to not care to watch them. You place the bandage over it before looking up at him, meeting his gaze. He smiles softly. You smile back. His hand comes up and cups your cheek, he's leaning in and you find yourself doing the same. You watch his eyes flutter shut, feel his warm breath against your face before his soft lips meet yours. It only lasted a few seconds but that was all it needed. He rests his forehead against yours and you both stand there in silence, holding each other like you always did, like you always would.

I love domestic looking photos of him.

#james hetfield #metallica #james hetfield x reader #james hetfield smut #james hetfield fanfiction #metallica smut #metallica fanfiction #papahet #metallica x reader

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cherrygirlfriend · 2 days ago

Text

SICK IN BED

warnings: none! fluff originally posted in august 2024

bsf!rafe taking care of sick reader

BEST FRIEND MASTERLIST

you were certain this was the worst you'd ever felt. you should've known it'd happen - of course, taking care of your little sister while she was sick would have some kind of consequences.

the tv in your bedroom was playing old episodes of buffy the vampire slayer, something you always watched when you were hungover or otherwise having a bad day, and apparently now whenever you were sick.

you had no appetite, and your entire body felt like it was on fire while also being ice cold, your trash can filled with used tissues, your second box of them now on your nightstand next to a cup of tea that had gone cold.

a soft knock was on your door, and you sighed, you knew that your sister felt guilty for getting you sick, but you also didn't want her to get sick all over again. "i told you, don't come in!"

but the door still creaked open, and you let out a soft sigh, the heels of your palms now pressing against your eyes. "i told you not to feel guilty that you got me sick, i don't blame you."

"i wasn't aware that i did that."

you furrowed your brows when the voice that came from the door wasn't your little sister's soft, warm voice, but instead a rough, deep voice, one you were intimately familiar with. you didn't even need to take your hands away from your eyes to know who it belonged to.

but once you did, you were confronted with your best friend's tall figure standing at your doorway, a smile on his face and a grocery bag and a bouquet of flowers in hand as he stepped into the room, closing the door behind him. you pulled your blanket up to your nose, aware that you definitely didn't look the best right now, only making the boy chuckle.

"why are you here, rafe?" you asked in a soft voice that was muffled by the blanket, "i texted you to tell you i'm sick."

"i know." rafe said as he slowly walked over to your bed, sitting at the edge of it. "you do know that you don't need to hide, right? i've seen you sick a million times when we were kids." the boy chuckled, slowly pulling the blanket down, revealing your face.

"then why are you here?"

"i'm here to take care of you." he said with a small smile. it was odd, you were sure you hadn't seen rafe act this gentle since you were both children, the boy now pulling things out of the grocery bag. "i brought you some crackers, and some of your favorite snacks. and, chicken noodle soup. your sister said you haven't really been eating."

"rafe, you do know that you could get sick too, right?" you asked as rafe started emptying the contents of the grocery bag, revealing an array of some of your favorite snacks, your eyes widening.

"well, if i do, i expect the same treatment from you."

you narrowed your eyes as you looked at him, "you do know that no funny business is gonna go down, right?" and the blonde simply burst into laughter. "i mean, this isn't exactly an attractive sight."

"just let me take care of you."

and even though you kept trying to tell rafe to leave, that he'd probably get sick if he stayed, but your attempts were futile, and after a while, there was a fresh bouquet of flowers on your nightstand along with a new cup of tea, you had downed the chicken noodle soup, the warmth of it calming down some of the pain in your throat, and you were both now settled in your queen-sized bed, a cold towel on your forehead that rafe had insisted you needed.

"i can't believe you're watching this again." rafe grinned, his arm lazily thrown around your shoulder as he bit into one of the twizzlers he had brought, buffy still playing on tv.

"what do you mean? it's a great show."

"mmhm. and you're sure it has nothing to do with your crush on that emo bleach-blonde vampire?"

you softly smacked rafe's chest before taking the cold towel off your forehead, now having turned lukewarm. "you know, he kind of reminds me of you."

that statement made rafe grin, turning to look at you with lifted brows, "oh, yeah? is that why you have a crush on him?"

you simply rolled your eyes, letting out a small scoff.

rafe hadn't even noticed the moment you had gone slack in his arms, still focused on the tv, only realizing that you were asleep when you let out a small, adorable whine in your sleep. he looked down at your face, so serene and beautiful, it made something in his chest ache. he'd never tell you, but the moments he loved the most were the ones like this. ones when he could just admire you without having to hide it.

he brushed a strand of hair away from your face, tugging it behind your ear before pressing a soft, feather-like kiss on your forehead, looking down at you, an aching feeling stabbing in his chest, one that was more intimate than any of the sexual aching he felt for you. and that was the moment that he really realized he was in trouble.

and in a soft whisper, he said, "i love you." hoping that the girl it was meant for wouldn't be able to hear it.

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my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction · 2 days ago

Note

oh brother have you ruined me for nipple piercings. I seriously cannot get that Jake!fic out of my mind. (if im being honest i think about ALL of ur works but that's besides the point)

ANYWAYS!! i have a burning question to ask!

Out of the two boys that are 'out of the loop', who do you think discovers the nipple piercings first? I'm betting on it being steven and then him panicking and making marc front and then marc has to deal with all the new sensations.

ANYWAYS

thank you for ur lovely and delicious writing and have a lovely evening :))))

Ahhhh, heeheeheeeee! I am giggling over this idea!! It went in a little bit of a different direction, which I hope is okay! <3

Chain Reaction, Reaction

Steven Grant x gn!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals • Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • buy me a coffee? •

Continuation of Chain Reaction & Good Vibrations - you don't have to read them to read this, basically, Jake has nipple piercings.

Warnings: Bit of an almost anxiety attack, kissing, swearing, not beta read, please let me know if I've missed a warning.

Word Count: 639

Steven wakes up groggily, his limbs ache, sleep heavy in the corner of his eyes. He grabs foggily for his phone on the bedside table to check the time, fucking early.

He stretches a little and then smiles when he sees you sleeping next to him, you must have stayed over with Jake last night. Steven settles back down into bed, rolling onto his side to snuggle up to you and then pauses as his arm brushes against his own chest and feels… something.

Fuck. Fuck. What the ever loving fuck?

“Shit!” Steven hisses and jumps back a fraction, as if he could get away from himself.

When the fuck? How the fuck?

You rub your face as you stir and glance up at him, a little confused.

“Love, when… there’s… I mean, my… I have piercings?” He lightly touches around his chest, careful not to actually rub the barbells. He knew enough about the basics to know it probably wasn’t a good idea to get bacteria into a fresh wound.

You stare at him a little sleepily for a second, his words taking longer than normal to filter in and make sense. And then your eyes widen. Jake hadn’t taken them out before he went to sleep last night.

“Oh.”

“Oh?” Steven’s voice rises slightly at the end, he clears his throat, shakes his head, trying not to let panic override him. What the fuck had happened? Was there-

“It’s alright, hey,” you sit up and stroke his shoulder soothingly, your voice calm. “So,” you screw up your face for a moment, a small mental battle running through your head on of this was actually your place to explain. This was Jake’s secret. Were you breaking his trust? But then again, Steven was upset, looking on the verge of panic. His body had been changed without his knowledge.

“Jake pierces them,” you start.

“Pierces?”

“Yeah, he pierces them and then uses the suit to heal them, and then takes them out and heals again. So you and Marc don’t have to deal with it…” You start to run out of steam towards the end, the words sounding more and more stupid as they fall out of your mouth.

“You knew about this?”

“Jake showed me yesterday.” You swallow.

Steven nods.

“I think he must have fallen asleep before he took them out.”

He nods again. “That makes… sense.” He pauses, “So, they’re like… healed?”

You frown a little in confusion.

“The piercings? They’re healed, they’re not… all fresh and that?”

“Oh, no, I mean, yes. They’re healed.”

“Huh.” He bites his bottom lip and lightly touches one of the balls with the tip of his forefinger. His shoulders visibly relax when there’s no pain, and he brushes his thumb over them.

“You okay?” You ask hesitantly.

He nods. “Yeah, it’s a bit…” He chuckles, “A lot of a surprising but… well, I mean, it is our body, innit? And it’s not like it’s permanent with Jake’s… job.”

You give him a slightly nervous smile. “I’m sorry for like…” You’re not sure how to phrase it. “I mean, I knew and you didn’t and it’s your body and-”

He quickly presses his lips to yours and smiles against your mouth. “You’re too sweet love,” Steven mutters before he licks into your mouth and strokes your cheek.

He leans his forehead against your as he pulls back, “I am gonna have a word with Jake though… but,” he shrugs, “I don’t know. Maybe we can keep them on for a while… on, is that what you say about piercings?”

“In?”

“In.” He nods. “That’s the one.”

“What do you think Marc will think?”

Steven pauses and then smiles cheekily as he wraps his arms around you and leans in for another kiss. “I think I’ll let Jake deal with that.”

Thank you for reading!

Taglist:

@pleasurebuttonwrites @raven-rk @campingwiththecharmings @lonelyisamyw-0love @romanarose

@steven-grants-world @blushingrn @to-be-a-sunshine @angel-of-the-moons @minigirl87

@lunar-ghoulie @silvernight-m @autismsupermusicalassassin @reallyrallyauthor @basicalyrandom

@alwaysmicado @spxctorsslxt @novarosewood @hammerhead96 @mylittledelulucorner

@queerly-anxious @swiftiegirliepop @oscarssimp @eternallyvenus @lounilu

@pigeonmama @iolaussharpe-24 @chaithetics @sub-aro @faretheeoscar

@queerponcho @twwcs @ingoldthewizard @ominoose @ierofrnkk

@have-you-seen-my-sanity @missdictatorme @musicalnacho @buckyssugarchick @lemonzestinmydrink

@sonotpractical @junggoku @julesonrecord

If you'd like to be taken off the tag list please let me know here

#steven grant #moon knight #moon knight mcu #steven grant x reader #x reader #steven grant x you #x you #steven grant x gender neutral reader #x gender neutral reader #steven grant x gn!reader #x gn!reader #my writing #fanfic #oscar isaac #oscar isaac characters

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sweetpumpkinpieinwithcoffee · 3 days ago

Text

Beginning, Middle and Everything Else (Part.2)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: Domestic life at the Stark Tower has always been something. Things seems to be back to normal between Y/A and Bucky even if she can't help but remark some new little attentions he has for her. And then, there is this night... and maybe not everything is that casual? Basically, it's just a lot of fluff and pining.

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: humor, fluff, light language, idiot in love A/N: Hello, I'm back with the following chapter. You kind the first one here. I do believe you can read them separatly though as a one shot. Again, English isn't my first language and truth be told I didn't proof read this before posting. Anyway, I hope you will like this new installement. Enjoy 🥹

Have you ever had to go grocery shopping for an Avenger? No. Well, imagine having to go for an athlete doubled with an eight year old. Now multiply this by the number of people residing in the Stark Tower at the current time. You already have your head spinning? Well that was basically what was happening to Y/A. Left alone with Clint and Natasha, the girl was basically fighting for her life and a box of chocolate.

If she had listened to Clint, her cart would have been filled with only pizza and the occasional macaroni and cheese (those were always a hit on wednesday nights, especially if Yelena was making it her way). If she had listened to Nat, true the cart would have been a little bit healthier BUT the number of vodka bottles would have been astronomical. Not that the former Russian agent was alcoholic, rather the team liked to party way too hard sometimes. And vodka was always easy to sneak into any glass or cup.

“Can we take gummies?” Asked Clint while they were waiting at the register.

“For the hundrest times, no. We still have some in the kitchen.”

“No, we have the strawberry kind, not the blueberry ones.”

“Do you want the blueberries just because it is purple and it matches yours and Kat’s signature?” Nat asked.

“Maybe.”

“Then no. Don’t need it.”

“I knew I picked the wrong team to go grocery shopping.”

“Believe me when I say I thought the same thing ten minutes ago when you two were bickery around ham.” Y/A said while paying. “Can’t you behave for more than an hour?”

“You wouldn’t either if you had to stay stuck for days with this one in a vent.”

“It was years ago!” Bite back Natasha.

“Children, mommy would like some peace.”

“You do know we are heading back to the Tower, right?” Asked Clint.

“Killjoy.”

“My pleasure.”

Truth be told, while grocery shopping was a pain in the ass, getting back to the Tower was even more painful. You adored your new teammates and roomates but really they could be loud. Especially when food was involved. “Do you have my lemon pie?” Would ask Steve who had developed such a sweet tooth since he had left ice. “Where is my Coca?” Would ask Tony before being reprimanded by Pepper for not asking politely. “And my beer?” Would half shoot Thor if he was there. It was all fun and game until they were digging into the bags, making a mess of everything. Children, those super-heros were just children with super powers or capacities.

“Or too much money.” Would complet Yelena when you finally found the time to rest. “Practically sure Tony wouldn’t have done half the stuff he did without all his money.”

“I’m not sure. He is a good guy deep down. And also, he has his brain.”

“Yeah, yeah… that is true.”

You had found yourself on the roof of the tower, enjoying the summer sun and a little bit of peace. Truth be told, you were quite content to not have been sent on a mission in some time. You could actually take the time to rest and fix some old injuries you had never really looked for. Plus, one of the upside of not being on duty call meant spending more time with the girls.

“Want to go clubbing tonight?” You asked.

“Always down. Think about anywhere in particular?”

“No. Probably to the Pachamama. To remind me of France.”

“You've been missing it a lot lately, aren’t you?”

“Well… I had really good memories there and I haven’t been in years.”

“So the Pachamama it is!”

But by the end of the day, you never made it.

————————————————————————————

“So you are telling me you just got your periods?” Asked Yelena right behind you as she was holding your hair.

“Yeah.” You couldn’t help but throw up again. The pain was excruciating. Why was it that doctors and searchers had found a cure for men who couldn’t get their penis up but none of them had found the time for a cure for difficult periods?

“I guess our little trip out is cancelled then?”

“What is cancelled?”

His deep voice filled the room in an instant and you couldn’t be more mortified. Not because your head was presently in the toilet, even if that was already a bad situation, but more because of your outfit. A night out at the club meant little clothes and involved a lot of glitter. You were young and you wanted to have some fun, some intent of a normal twenty-something years old life. Tonight, you had opted for a really short black short and a “dress” made in chane and glitter. High heels boots complemented the outfit and you were feeling badass. Well, up until you felt the first sign of your cycle and had to bolt to the toilet.

“Sure it is just your period honey?” Asked Wanda while rubbing your back. “You look pretty pale too.”

“Losing blood can have that effect.” You mumble.

“So what is cancelled?” He asked again.

Your situation with Bucky had kinda shift after the cookies a month or so ago. You had started to notice weird signs from him. Now it was almost impossible for you to seat near anyone but him at any debrief, somehow he had clocked your favourite mug and made always a priority of keeping it warm if you need tea or coffee. He had, regarding that matter, also clocked your preference: coffee in the morning or later in the day only if you had stayed up too late, past 10a.m and until the end of the day it was tea and infusion. Bucky was also the first to spot now when you were feeling down and the first to help you work through the high and low of being a public figure. He also magically always had your favourite chocolate ready after a particular rough mission. The shift was weird.

“We were supposed to go out tonight but Y/A isn’t feeling good.”

“Shit. Something you ate maybe?”

“Not that kind of sick.” You mumble while resting your head on the toilet (gross, you thought but it was cool and you thought maybe Wanda was right and you had a little bit of a fever).

“Oh… got everything you need? Pad, tampon ?”

“BARNES.” Almost screamed Wanda.

“What?”

“I’m just surprised.”

“Of me knowing about this? Hon, it’s not the 1950’s anymore.”

“Remind me your age again?”

“Do shut up. Hey, Y/L/N, how are you doing?’

Instead of responding directly, you started throwing up again while hot tears ran down your cheeks. Wanda calming rub in your back stopped for a millisecond before being replaced by a stronger and wider hand.

“Ok. Girls, go to your night out, I got her.”

“But…” Started Yelena, your ponytail still in her hand.

“No but, have your fair of fun and I’ll make sure she survives the night.”

“Go girl, don’t make me waste your night.” You said while you can. “Take pictures and I want to know everything in the morning.”

“Ok honey…” Said Kate. “Buck, be nice to her and make sure she has her hot-water bottle with her.”

“Will do. Now go.”

It was a matter of minutes before the sounds of their feet stopped echoing in the hallway and you could hear the door closing. Such a fun night in perspective.

“You can go Barnes… I’ll be fine. I think the worst is over.” You said while attempting to stand up. That wasn’t your best idea since your head start spinning and you had to regain control by putting an hand on the sink. “Shit.”

“Like you said. I’m not going anywhere until you don’t feel better. Or at least until you are sleeping.”

“So what? You are playing my daddy tonight?”

At his loss of words, you looked up and found him as red as a tomato. His pupils were dilated and fixed on your mouth. Shit, had you said something that would bring back his old Winter Soldier self?

“You alright there?”

“Yeh. Yup. Sorry, my brain froze for a moment.”

“Could see that.”

“Let me help you to go to bed.”

“Can do myself.”

Well, that you thought. You made two steps before needing the wall to stay up.

“Shit.”

“Ok. You tried your way, let’s try mine now.”

You couldn’t say anything before being picked-up, bridal style, and being kinda crushed against his chest. He smelled good. You had never really paid attention to this but Bucky did smell good. A mix of soap and his aftershave that subtle but very pleasant.

“I can walk.” You suggested.

“That you demonstrated very well not two minutes ago.”

“Do shut up. I’m ill, and you don’t make fun of ill people.”

“No Doll. I won’t.”

It was your turn to be silent for a moment and you could feel the heat in your cheek. But if it was the heat of your fever or something in reaction of what he had said you weren’t able to tell.

“Lead the way to your room.” He spoke softly and for one moment, you completely forgot what was the point of your evening anymore. You could only focus on his arms around you and the smell of his clothes.

————————————————————————————

Y/A’s room was two stories above where he had found her. Just like all the other rooms, it was very large. Nothing Bucky had ever known back in the 50’s when he and Steve had first shared a living-room while keeping an eye on his mother and then in their tiny studio right before the war.

And just like all the others it was such a personal space. Nothing the others would have chosen for themselves. This room was clearly yours. The colour, the furniture, the decor, everything seemed to scream “Y/A lives here”. Bucky smiled to himself. It was funny to be here.

“You can drop me on the bed and I’ll be fine. For real.” Said the girl when he stepped inside.

“Dropping you on the bed, I can. Leaving you alone? No.”

“Bucky, I’m fine, really.”

He put her gently on the bed and then started to look around. He was positive that if this was a recurrent pattern for you you would have your hot-water bottle on the ready. Unfortunately, it was nowhere to be seen. Instead, he went straight for what looked like a pyjama you had left thrown on a chair and grabbed it.

“You have to put this on.” He said gently to her. “And you also have to tell me where you put your hot-water bottle.”

“You really don’t need to do this.” Y/A said while trying to leave the bed and joined her private bathroom. Unfortunately, while you were very not drunk, you were struggling and fell by tripping on your own feet.

“Ouch.”

“And she said she doesn’t need help.” In a matter of seconds he was scooting you up in his arms and taking you to the bathroom. “Do you also need my help to get out of this… dress?”

You flushed a little. “Be careful soldier. One could think you are flirting with me.”

He flushed back a little. He hadn’t thought about the undermeaning of his words before it had been too late. Not that he would mind taking off your clothes in another context but… “Or one could think I’m just being helpful and considerate to my… friend?”

“Oh! Is that what we are now?” Y/N asked while battling with the fastening of her dress.

“If you want too.” He said, considering he might have put more hope than it was needed in his tone.

“I don’t know Bucky, only two weeks ago you could barely look me in the eyes.”

“You are very small.”

Y/A smiled back. “Touché. But still, is that what we are?”

“It’s what we could be.”

“Then ok. You are helping a friend take off her dress.” She said while offering her back to him. The zipper was clearly stuck.

Putting a gentle hand on her right shoulder he unzipped slowly the delicate material, past her shoulder blades, her mid back, until the top of her ass. He had to hold his breath and his gaze. She was clearly following his movement in the mirror right in front of them in the bathroom.

“Thank you friend. That was very helpful.”

“No problem, friend.”

He couldn’t help but notice the light pink spreading on her cheek and the way her eyes were stuck on his in their reflection.

“I should… yeah.” She gestured to her dress, the pyjama in her hands and the bathroom.

“I’ll be waiting here.” He said softly.

“Again, you don’t have to do all that. I’ll be fine and it isn’t in your job description to take care of me.”

“Yeah, I know. But you also are more important than just a job description.”

This time she was bright red and he considered if he hadn’t gone too far with his observation. She disappeared quickly into the bathroom and closed the door without another word for him.

————————————————————————————

The rain had started outside the Tower and Bucky was pacing inside your room. Y/A had been taking an unusually long time to change out of her dress to her pajama. He figured maybe you were doing your nightly skincare routine, something he had seen Nat do more times than he could count when she wasn’t out on the job.

Nevertheless, the minutes dragged on and a tight knot of concern began to form in his chest. That’s when the sound came, a dull thud, as if something had fell in the room were you were. He felt his heart stop in the moment.

“Shit. Y/N? Is everything alright?” He called out.

Silence.

“Y/A” He tried again, closing the small space between him and the closed door. “Y/A? I’m coming in.”

He pushed the door open forcefully to find you on the floor, your pajama rightfully on but you were struggling to brace yourself as you tried to sit up.

“Shit, Doll, what happened?” As he was saying so he move to your side in a flash, crouching next to you, scanning for injury with frantic eyes.

Y/A blinked up at him, sweat beading on her forehead. “Think it might be more than just my period.” She said weakly, her voice not much more than a whisper. “I just felt dizzy and then…”

“You are burning up.” He muttered, gently lifting you in his arms again. This time he noticed how you didn’t protest, simply letting your head fall against his shoulder.

Carrying Y/A to her bed, he laid her down with care before going back to the bathroom where he found a bottle of water he filled before coming back.

“Drink a little. I’ll look for some meds and I’ll be back.”

“I must have some Advil under the sink.” She said.

He went again and laid the little box on her bedside table after giving her the medicine. Silently, he vowed to stay by your side as long as you would allow it. Soon enough Y/A was sound asleep. Outside, the rain was still pouring, the others would probably cut short their plans if the weather kept being that awful. The room was in the dim light of the bedside’s lamp, warm in the rich colour you had chosen.

Time passed. Y/A’s sleep was difficult. Turning and trashing, fighting against the fever and something else. Bucky couldn’t only stay and watch. His only movement was to put a cool cloth on your forehead or stroking your wet hair back from your face with trembling fingers. For all the time he had to tend to others he hadn’t felt this anxious. He couldn’t and wouldn’t leave your side.

At some point he thought he heard the other coming in but no one made its way to your room. Probably they thought you were sleeping and didn’t want to disturbed you. He was glad they didn’t though, he could stay with you and wouldn”t have to explain to anyone the state of worry he was in. Besides, he also thought the fever was coming down, meaning it was nothing that serious. A difficult virus you would have caught after pushing yourself yet again.

He didn’t sleep that night. Just stay close, your hand in his, eyes on your face. When dawn find its way in the room, you started stirring, showing some signs that you were trying to wake up. He took back his hand and straightened in his chair. Slowly, your eyes opened, meeting his tired, worried ones.

“You stayed?” Y/A croaked, voice still light.

He couldn’t help but give a weak smile. “Of course I did. You don’t leave a friend in such a bad state.”

She smiled faintly but it felt real. Bucky couldn’t believe it was addressed to him. Y/A then extended a febrile hand toward him. Gently, he took it with his hand of flesh.

Maybe he would be fine, as long as he could keep you by his side.

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