#Midtown Eats

[xxplastic-cubexx]

MARVEL RIVALS NEW SEASON DROPS ON MY BIRTHDAY LETS FUCKIGN GO????????

[ashlee-simpson]

[walkingdetroit]

Grocery Trip to Marcus Market

[raven]

"you're breathing the subway air already" not me im wearing a mask and will never take it off!

[sreegs]

Sections of the Alphabet, a guide:

ABCDEF - The Grade Quarter. For obvious reasons these letters are associated with rank and quality. Though E is not a common grade it nevertheless is part of the territory.

GHIJK - The Working Class Neighborhood. In English these letters do a lot of grunt work. Their proximity to the grades make them overlooked but what would we do without them?

LMNOP - Midtown. When learning the alphabet this section gets a lot of attention due to its distinctive landcape and how it rolls off the tongue. Its vista of peaks and hills make it stand out as well.

QRSTUV - The Support Town. A land of contrasts. The heavy lifters in this area draw a sharp disparity with Q, which is unique for its specialist role.

WXYZ - The Outlands. A stretch of unusual landscape that is distinct for its cuisine. Everyone knows what kind of dish you're eating when it's got some of these letters in it.

[starseongs]

walking around manhattan by myself listening to ateez with a completely straight face but im experiencing more emotions and going thru more insane delusions than u can even imagine

[scarletttbitch]

the fact that i'm at work doing fucking Nothing instead of drawing stupid fanart in my room should be a CRIME

[sunarryn]

DP X Marvel #1

Don’t get me wrong—I love DP X DC, but I want more post for DP X Marvel, so I decided to write my own.

Danny had been in Amity Park, dodging international press, paparazzi, and the occasional FBI van parked outside his house, because, well, saving the world and exposing the existence of ghosts kind of made him a big deal. The whole “I’m actually Phantom” reveal had sent the world into a meltdown, with headlines like “Teen Ghostboy Saves Earth, Wears Same Hoodie for Six Days” and “Should Phantom Pay Taxes?” clogging up the internet.

That’s when Tony Stark showed up.

In person.

“You ever consider switching teams?” Tony asked while eating a hotdog in Danny’s kitchen like he owned the place. “I don’t mean ghost to human. I mean ghost to Avenger.”

Danny, halfway through microwaving leftover pizza, blinked. “Is this a recruitment thing or are you just lost?”

“A little of both.” Tony admitted. “I’ve got a proposition for you. Comes with a full scholarship, housing, no taxes, and a lifetime supply of Pop-Tarts.”

“…Okay but like. Why Pop-Tarts?”

“I have a theory about your ghost metabolism and artificial preservatives.” Tony said, waving his hand like it was normal science and not the start of an exorcism. “Anyway. Stark Industries internship. Full ride to Midtown School of Science and Technology. We pretend this is for science—understanding ghosts and ectoplasm and your stupid glowy ice powers or whatever—and I get to say I recruited the coolest teen superhero before the other billionaires.”

“You just don’t want me joining Batman.” Danny muttered.

Tony narrowed his eyes. “Don’t say the B-word in my presence.”

So that’s how Danny Fenton—Amity Park’s favorite undead menace—ended up in New York City, living in a swanky Stark-funded high-rise with a fully stocked lab, an entire ghost-proof gym, and a contract that explicitly stated “NO OPENING INTERDIMENSIONAL PORTALS BEFORE 9AM” in Comic Sans.

Midtown High was wild. First of all, every student looked like they either had a skincare sponsorship or fought crime on the weekends. Second, the STEM program had actual quantum computers. Danny’s old school had a vending machine that exploded if you pressed B5 twice.

Third: Peter Parker.

Danny met him on his first day, right after being hit by a rogue drone in robotics class and slamming face-first into a whiteboard that read “No running in the lab.”

Peter looked down at him. “You good, man?”

Danny blinked. “Spider-Man?”

Peter blinked. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Danny smirked. “Uh-huh. Tony says hi.”

Peter yanked him up by the arm and shoved him into a janitor’s closet so fast it could’ve given someone whiplash.

“Shh!” Peter exclaimed. “You can’t just say that out loud! People don’t know!”

Danny shrugged, now intangibly phasing halfway through a mop bucket. “Relax. Everyone already knows I’m Phantom. It’s not like we’re on equal secret identity footing here.”

Peter blinked at that. “Wait, you’re Phantom? Like THE Phantom?”

Danny stuck his head through the wall dramatically. “Boo.”

Peter shrieked and punched him. Which didn’t work. At all. From then on, they were inseparable.

Mostly because Tony made them sit next to each other at every Stark-sponsored science conference with assigned seating and a label that said “Teen Angst Section.” But also because they kind of understood each other. Weird powers. Exhausting double lives. Constant media attention. Love lives that were mostly disaster zones.

Also, because every time there was an emergency in New York, Danny would dramatically yell, “I GOT THIS!” turn into a glowing ghost, phase through the ceiling, and leave Peter holding their science project like, “Great. Now I have to explain this to Ms. Warren.”

There was a running bet in the school on how many times a week Danny would ghost out during class. The record was four times in a single Monday. Once during math. Twice during lunch. Once mid-presentation, when his eyes flashed green, and he mumbled, “Hold up, I think a ghost just tried to eat a nun,” before vanishing.

He got an A. Mostly out of fear.

They became known around Midtown as “Science Boyfriends,” a term coined by their English teacher after they accidentally blew up the chemistry lab and rebuilt it with better airflow and a smoothie bar.

Peter tried to deny it. Danny didn’t.

“I mean, he’s cute.” Danny would shrug while eating a granola bar and floating upside-down. “And have you seen his calves? Spider thighs? Man’s got spider thighs.”

Peter threatened to web his mouth shut. Danny turned intangible and said “do it, coward.”

Happy Hogan was having a mental breakdown.

“Mr. Stark.” He said once, after catching Danny phasing through a vending machine and Peter falling out of a ceiling vent. “They’re going to destroy the school.”

“They’re already destroying my will to live.” Tony muttered, sipping coffee while watching Phantom carry Spider-Man bridal-style on a street livestream. “But you can’t deny the brand synergy.”

And oh, the public loved Danny.

Kids wore Phantom backpacks. There was a whole TikTok trend called “Go Ghost Challenge” which was just teens flinging themselves over furniture in hopes of catching flight. People stopped him on the street for selfies. A company released a Ghost Repellent Spray that was literally just Febreze with a green label.

Meanwhile, Danny and Peter were balancing AP Physics, ghost attacks, Stark internships, and trying to keep a low profile despite Danny being literally neon.

Peter was this close to combusting.

“I can’t keep doing this.” Peter whispered during lunch, forehead pressed against a table. “My GPA is dying. I’m dying. My soul is cracking. I haven’t slept in three days.”

Danny, completely fine, sipping chocolate milk through a straw, replied, “I think a banshee tried to possess the home ec teacher.”

Peter stared. “… Danny.”

“Her cupcakes were glowing.”

“DANIEL JAMES!”

It didn’t help that the media kept speculating if Phantom was dating Spider-Man. There were articles like “Who’s the Top Ghost? Our Editors Discuss” and “Teen Heroes: Roommates or Soulmates?” Danny read them out loud during lunch.

Peter screamed into a burrito.

And then there was that time someone tried to kidnap Peter during gym class. Bad idea. Danny turned invisible, slammed the guy through the bleachers, and then flew Peter to safety in front of the entire school.

“You didn’t have to carry me!” Peter hissed later. “I had it under control.”

“You were duct-taped to a chair.” Danny pointed out.

“I was about to chew through the tape!”

“Like a squirrel.”

“Like a spider!”

After that, it wasn’t just the school that shipped them. The city did. There were shirts. Stickers. Fanfiction. Someone made a rap.

Tony started selling merch.

“We’re not even dating!” Peter yelled one afternoon, dodging a drone with their faces painted on it.

Danny just winked. “Yet.”

And honestly? They made a good team.

When ghosts got loose, Danny handled the supernatural. When aliens showed up, Peter webbed ‘em to the nearest wall. When things exploded, they blamed Flash Thompson.

Midtown might have been chaos. Their lives might have been actual flaming garbage fires. But in the middle of it all, Danny and Peter were the weirdest, most terrifying, most effective duo the teen superhero world had ever seen.

One had ghost lasers.

The other had web shooters.

Both had the fashion sense of stressed-out raccoons.

And somehow, they made it work.

Until Danny accidentally opened a portal to the Ghost Zone during prom. But that’s a story for another day.

[nevarrhoe]

mea culpa (m.m) - 4

SUMMARY: "mea culpa" (exclamation - noun/legal term)

used as an acknowledgement of one's fault or error.

↪ in which matt murdock accidentally falls in love with the district attorney's daughter.

warnings: smut !! p in v, she/her pronouns used for reader

series master list

any minors caught interacting will be blocked and reported

What was meant to be one night with Matt Murdock quickly turned into two, and then three, and then four. And then it was a week, and before you knew it, an entire month had passed. Twenty-eight days of nothing but bliss and what Matt was sure was the closest thing he had ever experienced to heaven. It was like you existed in a bubble: just you and him, locked away in his apartment, eating Chinese or fucking on every viable surface. It was nirvana in a way you had never thought existed.

He was everything you needed, in every sense: grounding and warm in conversation, with a sharp wit and dry humour. He also made you feel things you hadn’t thought possible. You figured that was the difference between the college boys you used to fuck around with, compared to a weathered man in his thirties. That fact had worried you at first - the age difference, the class difference, the everything difference - but none of it mattered when you were together. You and Matt matched each other in a weird way. 

He’d spent his entire life searching for the next thing: the next case, the next bad guy to take down, the next adventure. When he was with you, he felt satisfied. There was no scratch to itch. No thirst to find something greater. He was content. 

And for you, your focus was always pissing off your father. Matthew was just old enough and just enough of a good man and a good lawyer to do that. Not that you ever planned on your old man finding out about your relationship, but he provided an opportunity that felt just sexy enough to fulfil your rebellious side.

Maybe it was more than that. Maybe there was a connection. Maybe, just maybe, you didn’t want to give it too much thought. Thinking ruined everything. 

“Good morning.”

Matt woke you as usual; strong arms wrapped around your waist and coarse hands roaming over your stomach. He pressed a soft kiss to the back of your neck and pulled you towards him. It was clear what his intentions were - the same as they had been last night and every night before that. 

“Morning,” you rolled over and pressed a kiss to his jaw. “I would love to stay, Matthew, but my dad needs me in the courthouse at nine.”

He let out a low grumble. “I didn’t realise that you worked for him.”

“I don’t,” you grinned at his expression. “But in order for him to keep paying off my credit card, I gotta run a few errands for him every now and then. That way, I don’t have to work and…” you leant in a little closer, pressing a kiss to his ear. “You get me all to yourself, all the time.”

“Okay, yeah,” Matt huffed, pressing a hungry kiss to your lips. “I can deal with that.”

“Good,” you smiled. “So you’ll let me go?”

“What choice do I have?”

“None,” you replied. 

Rolling out of bed, you scooped up the clothes that had been discarded the night before. Matt had taken you to Josie’s, and then you’d stumbled back here and resumed your usual activities. It was rare that you went out to drink in public; anywhere past Midtown was out of the question because of your friends, and Josie’s because of his. Last night, however, Foggy and Karen had both been working late so you’d had the chance to hang out there for a few hours without being seen. 

You shoved your blouse into your bag and picked up a shirt of Matt’s, pulling it over your head. He didn’t protest, instead laid back in bed with his arms folded behind his head as you pitter-pattered about. It was nice to listen to. 

“I’ll see you later,” you softly pushed back some of his hair and pressed a kiss to his forehead. 

Things had never been this intimate in the beginning. The first few times you’d stayed over, there was no hanging about in the morning. You would normally just up and leave - sometimes before Matt had even woken up. Then, you’d started staying for coffee, and then breakfast, and now…you never left without saying goodbye. It felt wrong. 

“Or,” Matt grabbed you by the waist, pulling you back into bed. “You could just stay.”

He pressed a kiss to your lips, purposefully centring your core on top of - as it was often so eloquently put - his morning wood. You couldn’t help but let out a soft moan, tangling your hand in his hair. It felt impossible to get enough of him. Every time you thought he’d given it his all, he gave more. That had been why you’d kept coming back - at first, at least. 

“Matthew,” you grumbled. “I can’t. I have to go, I have to shower before I get to my dad’s office-”

“- shower here,” he cut you off, lips momentarily straying from your neck. “Wear my clothes. I’m sure I have a suit that will fit you.”

“Mmm,” you hummed. “Because that won’t be a dead giveaway, will it?”

Matt paused, juniper eyes seemingly finding yours for just a split second. It was a tense subject -you and him, and…well, everyone else. Your relationship would be a little more than just frowned upon. You’d probably get a bollocking from your dad and maybe a limit on your credit card but it was more than that for him. His entire career would be blown up. 

“I wish…” Matt spoke, but then stopped. 

“What is it, Matt?” you asked. 

“I wish we didn’t have to hide,” he murmured. 

That was the first time he’d ever said anything that implied your relationship was more than just a fuck: if you were just sleeping around, what was there to hide? Obviously, you hung out at his apartment but what if he wanted…more. Like dinner, and dates, and things that normal couples did. All things that were elements of a relationship built on something other than mere craving. 

“Yeah,” you softly sighed. “I mean…what we can do? Sneaking around might get old but I don’t mind.”

“Yeah, it’s alright for now,” Matt replied.

For now. 

–

You made it to the courtroom just after 9AM. 

The weather was warm that day, so you’d opted for a little black dress (Gucci, of course) and some black heels (Chanel, stolen from your mother). All eyes were on you as soon as you entered the courtroom: that was natural, given your relation to the District Attorney, but also because you were the nicest thing to look at in a ten-mile radius. There was nothing but old men, stretched out down the corridor with their brief-cases and creepy smiles. 

And then, hanging out by the vending machines, was Matt Murdock. He dared not acknowledge your presence but even just seeing him made you feel better. 

“Darling!” 

“Dad,” you spun around on your heel. “Good morning.”

“You’re late,” your father replied. “Where have you been? You’re late.”

“It’s 9:03.”

“Traffic,” you shrugged. “You’re lucky I’m here at all so I suggest you do not talk down to me-”

“- don’t get mouthy,” he cut you off. “Not here.”

“Fine,” you huffed. “What do you want me doing?”

He shoved a pile of folders into your hand with a fake smile. “I need you to look at the alibis for the Thomspon case. There are holes everywhere and it’s well below my pay grade to find them.” 

“Holes?” you frowned. 

“Yes. Holes. The defendant’s alibi is about as reliable as you after a few martinis,” he explained. “You have a law degree. I’m sure you can figure it out, sweetheart.”

“Right,” you muttered. 

“Take them to my office,” he said. “One of Thompson’s attorneys will be around this afternoon to come and collect them. Tread lightly with them. They haven’t been happy with me since they realised I’ve basically got this one in the bag.”

“Another unfair win for the DA?” you innocently asked. 

 “A very fair win,” your father shot back. “I’m surprised they’re letting him go to court at all with the lack of evidence that they have. It’s not going to be a good day when they lose.”

Your father’s office was situated at the back of the courthouse. The man had overhauled as much as he could without the city kicking up a fuss about it being a protected landmark. The walls had been stripped and painted white, and all the furniture replaced with black leather chairs and glass desks. There was no art - no books, no pictures, nothing. He’d spent millions on it and it was somehow still alarmingly more boring than the grey rooms the attorneys, defendants and witnesses had to sit in down the hall.

That was telling, wasn’t it? Maybe your dad wasn’t in charge of funding for every last room in this place but hell. He didn’t exactly look out for the little guys. It was a wonder he kept getting voted back in. That was probably another matter of money. 

Your task made for a very boring morning in a very boring place. There were hundreds and hundreds of papers to look through; testaments from witnesses, alibis from the defendant, CCTV footage that had him confirmed in what felt like twenty places at once. You didn’t have much time to go through them either, not when his attorneys were due to collect the evidence at midday. 

“There’s no fucking case here at all,” you quietly muttered to yourself. Your dad had been right - for once. His lawyers were doing him dirty by letting him go to trial with every piece of evidence pointing against him. 

And it wasn’t until you got to the last page that you saw his lawyer’s signature and realised who exactly those lawyers were: an M.Murdock and F. Nelson.

Fuck.

Leaning back in your chair, you glanced up at the clock: 11:58. Either Matt or Foggy would be here any second to collect the files, and you could only hope it wasn’t the one you’d been sleeping with for the last month. That would have been an awkward conversation. 

But fate was a bitch, right? And you knew the second that you heard the tapping of a cane that Matt was right outside your door. 

He knocked twice. Matt always knocked twice. 

You stood up, brushing off your skirt and pulling open the door. “Mr Murdock - please, come in.”

Matt had you pushed up against the door the second it was closed, large hands gripping your waist and lips attacking your neck. Normally, you would have been completely there for it - there was an expensive sofa that you could fuck on right there. It was just that your mind was a little…preoccupied. And he picked up on it right away. 

“Hey,” Matt frowned, hand ghosting over your cheek. “What’s up?”

“It’s uh…” you pulled back and pushed his hands off of you, moving to lean against the desk. 

“Is it the way your dad spoke to you earlier?” he asked. His face was etched with concern - and maybe a little with overprotectiveness. “Because I overheard that and I didn’t like it one bit-”

“- it’s your case, Matt,” you cut him off. “I just signed off on the evidence on behalf of my dad. We’re - I mean he’s happy to take it to court but I feel like I should tell you that it’s a guaranteed win for his office.”

Matt frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“The evidence in those files isn’t going to help your client one bit,” you quietly explained. “And we have a legal duty to deliver it to the courts.” 

“Thomspon is innocent.”

“You might think so but his entire defence is hearsay. The victim’s statement is pretty much bulletproof and there’s CCTV footage that places him at the crime scene,” you continued. “If you want my advice, I’d get him a plea deal and call it a day.”

Matt’s body language changed in a second. He took a step back from you, dark features etched with an entirely new type of frown that you were yet to see on him. You didn’t like it. 

“Are you giving me legal advice-”

“- no!” you snapped. “I’m just trying to help you. I know you put your heart and soul into this case-”

“- and you’re about to blow it apart!” he cut you off. “Where did you even get all this?”

“This evidence was delivered to the office. I’ve signed it and I’m sending it off once you’ve signed it too. I was just trying to prewarn you.”

You’d come this far without your differences getting between you. Now, it felt like they’d hit like a bullet. 

“Thomspon is an innocent man,” Matt lowly repeated. “And you’ve just assisted in providing evidence that’s going to send him to prison -”

“- why are you acting like I’ve done this on purpose?” you cut him off. “Like I said, I’m just doing my job and you’re just doing yours. It’s not that deep.”

“Not that deep?” he scoffed. “Maybe not to you. This is all just money to you and your father, isn’t it? Just a throwaway case, maybe.” 

“No!” you exclaimed. “Not at all. I didn’t mean to get involved. I’m just the messenger, Matt-”

“- no, it’s more than that.”

Matt paused for a second - though it felt much longer. He seemed angry at you but you were pissed at him. Not only for kicking off at you, but for putting you on the same level as your father when you had tried so hard not to let that happen. How many hours had he spent convincing you that you were your own person? Encouraging you to stand up for yourself?

“We’ll never see things the same way,” Matt continued. “At the end of the day, I’m me, and you’re just…you’re a spoilt little rich girl.” 

You froze. “What the fuck did you just say?”

“I…” he trailed off. “It was easy to ignore at first but I think this has shown me. We’re from different worlds and no matter how hard you try, you’re never going to understand-”

“- you should watch your mouth, Matthew Murdock,” you took a step towards him, jabbing a finger into his chest. “I might be a spoilt little rich girl but I would much rather be that than a man who runs his fucking mouth and kicks off without even listening to what I have to say.”

“Maybe I didn’t word it the best,” he calmed down for a second, trying to gather himself. “What I meant was-”

“- oh, I know what you meant!” you laughed incredulously. “Just take the files and get the fuck out. This was never going to work anyways.”

[simmerandwrite]

electric touch (part 2)

Pairing: Bucky x medical team! reader

Summary: Getting a spot on the field medical team was your dream. And your closest work friend Bucky Barnes finally asking you out? That was the cherry on top of your good news. Now all you had to do was pass your training week. Seems easy enough until you’re faced with someone who doesn’t want to see you win.

Warnings: abuse of power, verbal abuse, physical assault, some PTSD (but none of these are because of Bucky!!!!)

Wordcount: 8.5k

Part 1

Notes: WELP, sorry for the delay on this one. I've never rewritten so many scenes before (I have about 2k worth of trash from this part). thank you so much for your patience and for reading and reblogging part 1. hope you enjoy!!! <3

--

You didn’t anticipate the first-time seeing Bucky’s apartment would be like this: after two hours spent at a private clinic in Midtown, getting an x-ray then a consultation with a Dr. Alvarez, followed by the application of a cast. Then there was a visit from Tony Stark himself, alongside Pepper Potts, who carried a great amount of apologies and offered support for whatever the next steps ended up being.

Not once did you think you would be sneaking into the Tower through a back elevator, arm resting in a sling, shuffling your feet quietly beside Bucky as you ventured to his apartment, and feeling somehow both on edge and utterly exhausted throughout the whole process. And Bucky checked in with you every step of the way – sometimes with just a cursory glance. He managed to say so much without saying anything at all, and you really appreciated that.

God, he was so careful with you. Gentle, even. Gentle wasn’t the first word you would use to describe Bucky. Not that he was rough or reckless or brutish or whatever the opposite of gentle was. When it came to you, he was always kind and quiet and attentive.

But the way he spoke to you, how he had apologized after every bump and pothole as the ground shook his car, how he held his hand at your back as he guided you to his door - it was unexpected and gentle and exactly what kept you from spiraling. 

Despite all that, you wanted to visit his apartment for the first time excited, with butterflies in your stomach. Why did it have to be like this?

When you got to his door, there was a Stark Industries bag hanging off the handle. Bucky paused, then nodded with a hum before scanning his access card to open the door. 

The living spaces at the Tower were pretty basic, and you knew Bucky wasn’t intending on staying there forever, but he somehow managed to make it feel like his home nonetheless. 

A basic kitchen was immediately on your left as you walked in, open directly into the living room - which had a big, comfortable couch covered in a few pillows and blankets. You carefully fell into it, eyes closed. The impact made you wince but you decided it was worth it, given how you sank into the cushions.

“So, what do you want to eat?” Bucky had stopped in the kitchen area, grabbing what looked like a stack of menus from the top of the fridge.

You just shrugged, glancing over at him briefly before closing your eyes. “I’m not really hungry.”

Even though you weren’t looking at him, you could sense the frown on his face.

He sighed out your name. “Didn’t we just learn a lesson about taking those intense pain meds on an empty stomach?” He paused. “Actually, you think about it, I’m going to change...”

You squeezed your eyes even harder, trying to scrub away that recent memory. 

The doctor had been fitting the temporary cast on your hand and wrist just as whatever remaining particles of pain medication seemed to disappear from your bloodstream. That had been enough to make you feel nauseated but then when a nurse came to share some stronger meds with you, Bucky was quick to grab the nearest trash can when they immediately made you throw up. 

Most of it made it into the can, at least.

Now he was probably going to change out of his shirt that had been hit with the rest.

In the few moments of quiet while Bucky was in his bedroom, everything about the last few days hit you all at once. 

Boone. The gym. Your face on the mat. The way he yelled, screamed. Why hadn’t you left? 

Your couch. The growing pain. The purple and yellow and blue bruises. Why didn’t you just walk away?

Bucky.

Bucky at your door, with soup. Bucky with his tender touch. Your hand.

Pepper Potts, her kindness. 

The doctor.

The doctor said something about surgery after seeing your x-ray. Metacarpal break in your hand, down from the ring finger, and a hairline fracture down your wrist.

Pepper had been so kind but what was it she said about a police report? About filing a report with HR? What had she said about taking a break from work?

Bucky, Bucky had been so patient. He hadn’t left your side. But–

How would you ever write again? Could you hold a pen? Would you be able to do your job? Now you wouldn’t have your new role and you’d be shit at your current job, too. How could a nurse function without typing notes or holding a stethoscope or –

Boone. The gym. Your face on the mat. Bucky. Boone. Bucky. Your hand and this cast and this goddamn sling.

In your slurry of thoughts, you hadn’t even realized the tight feeling growing in your chest. Instinctually, you tried to place a hand over your heart and – pain, your wrist. Heaving in deep breaths, it felt as if your lungs couldn’t handle functioning properly.

And your skin - everything felt too hot. You shuffled forward on the couch until you were closer to the floor, dropping to your knees as you tore at your sweatshirt with one hand. It was only halfway zipped up, barely draped over your shoulders, and just so so so hot - were you dripping with sweat?

Could Bucky hear as you called out for him? God, what if he just changed his mind - you were a mess, this wasn’t the person he knew and definitely wasn’t the person he asked out.

How could he be proud of you now?

You tore off your glasses as tears started to fall.

Your name, someone was saying your name. 

Were you under water? It felt like you were under water. Your skin - hot. Your hand, your wrist – pain. 

Boone. 

You collapsed further, bracing yourself on the rug with your free hand. It was strangely soft under your palm. Bucky’s apartment had a soft rug.

Bucky. Bucky was saying your name. 

“Hey, hey. You’re okay.” 

He sounded close, so close. You blinked through your tears and saw he had dropped down beside you on the floor. 

“Sweetheart, can I - can I touch you? Is that okay?”

You nodded, peeking your head up to look at him. Everything was blurry. 

Slowly, he reached out and pressed one hand against your chest, firm. The other was running up and down your back. You listened to him carefully as he talked you through whatever this episode was, breathing in tandem as he applied just enough pressure to your chest and shoulders to really ground you beside him. 

He spoke your name, trying to keep your attention. “Talk to me, please.”

“Bucky - I..” You closed your eyes, sparing a moment to breathe at his pace. His hand pressed against your chest didn’t let up but he helped you lean back against the couch. “I’m scared.. Boone, he.. What if.. My hand..”

“I promise you’re never going to see him again.”

“No, no. I’m not..” Another deep breath. Your heart rate seemed to steady. “I’m not scared of seeing him. I want to.. I want to break his jaw or.. I wasn’t strong enough to even try..” You lifted your arm, tight in the cast and sling. “I won’t even be able to do that. He – I fucked up my hand and I - how can I even do my job or write anything or hold anything or even text? And I - I’ve never had surgery before and I’m - I’m scared something will go wrong and I won’t get to join the med team and I - How can I..” You could feel yourself starting to hyperventilate. “He kept yelling at me to fight back.. Fight back and-and prove myself! I should have – I should have just walked away, I should have–”

You couldn’t quite remember how the shift happened - but you were soon back on the couch, gently turned towards Bucky as he wrapped his arm around you. Time seemed to disappear as you cried into the crook of his shoulder. 

Maybe it wasn’t the most comfortable position as your hand pulsed in pain, but the close feeling, the touch of Bucky, the heat radiating from him - the combination soothed you. 

Bucky seemed to sense the exact moment your heart rate returned back to normal, as he very gently nudged you away just enough to peer down at you. He reached for your glasses and secured them back to where they belonged then offered you a soft smile.

“I don’t want to, uh, invalidate your feelings,” Bucky started then quickly paused. “Christ, I sound like Steve.”

That made you laugh.

“But you’ve gotta know that the doctor who's going to fix your hand will do a damn good job and while maybe you’ll have to take some time off work, you’ll be able to adapt until you fully heal. I promise.” He shifted and grabbed your available hand. “And surgery can be scary but I’ll be there the whole time and wait for you after, okay?”

“You’ll do that?”

Bucky seemed to falter after another moment. “Only if you want me, I don’t want to assume–”

“No, no. I do. I just..” You let out a slow breath. “I.. I’m really grateful to be right here, with you. I’m glad you didn’t leave my apartment earlier, even when I was pushing you out.”

Now he had a chance to laugh. “Yeah, I think we both know I wasn’t going anywhere, sweetheart. Now, you need to eat something. Any requests?”

Half an hour later Bucky was unpacking a delivery bag and handing you a meal and a dose of medication that you had brought home from the clinic. Admittedly, the warm food helped settle you even more and you had a feeling that you’d fall asleep quickly.

The bag hanging from Bucky’s door was full of overnight essentials, including a Stark Industries branded t-shirt and matching sweatpants. You managed to change and brush your teeth with only one hand, then found Bucky waiting for you in the hallway.

“I got my bed set up with extra pillows for you.”

You glanced into his room, then craned your neck to look back towards the living room. A lone pillow and blanket created a makeshift bed on the couch cushions.

Bucky answered the question on your mind: “I’m sleeping on the couch.”

You scrunched your face up. “No.”

“No?” Bucky repeated, raising an eyebrow.

“Even with extra pillows, I think there is definitely room for us both.” You stepped into his room and surveyed the space. Again, although a bit basic and free from any excess, it felt like Bucky lived there. A framed picture of him and Steve lived on his dresser. A basket of unfolded laundry sat outside his closet door. An extra pair of boots leaned up against his bedside table. 

Bucky let out a long breath, saying your name quietly. He shook his head then motioned towards the bed. “Okay.”

It took a few moments to adjust into a position that felt comfortable enough for you. Bucky helped you rearrange some of the pillows before he very cautiously joined you in the bed, doing his best to not create any extra movement to jostle you. 

Silence took over a few moments later, when he reached down and grabbed your left hand. 

You squeezed his palm, speaking through a yawn. “This isn’t how I pictured us sharing a bed for the first time.”

He laughed in return, shifting against his pillow. “Me neither, doll.” 

Then, you heard Bucky move again. And after a sweet mumbling of goodnight, he leaned over and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

--

To say Bucky was reluctant to leave you alone was an understatement. But once you settled into his bed, the pain medication seemed to finally kick in and you were out like a light. He left a small note on the bedside table, near your phone, to let you know he’d be back quickly and to call for FRIDAY if you needed anything. As he slipped into the hallway, secured in a black hoodie, he glanced towards his phone.

Tony’s message had been nondescript, but Bucky understood enough he had information about Boone. Tony insinuated earlier he was already digging into the video footage and how to proceed, but knew Bucky would want to be informed every step of the way.

Not that it mattered - Bucky already had a plan: find Boone then kill him.

Okay, no, no. Bucky couldn’t kill him. He’d never take a life like that again but… well, he had already considered a thousand different scenarios that left Boone to deal with the consequences of his actions. 

Bucky cracked his neck as he got into the elevator, shooting up to Tony’s lab. He stepped out directly into the space, following the echo of Tony’s voice somewhere inside. Bucky found him standing behind one of his workstations, hands flying around as he swiped at the screens illuminated ahead.

Tony paused, pivoting slightly as he shuffled a few things around on his desk. He leaned towards the end of his workspace, hooked his foot on the bottom of a wheeled chair and slid it in Bucky’s direction.

“How is she?” Tony asked, perching on the side of his workstation as Bucky sat.

Bucky shook his head. How could he even answer that? “Finally sleeping.”

“I hope they gave her the good stuff.” Tony’s fingers tapped against the side of the desk. “You know, Dr. Alvarez told me your girl must have a high pain tolerance given the severity of that break.” Before Bucky even had a chance to defend your non-relationship status, Tony carried on. “But Barnes - she’s tough, really tough. Look.”

Bucky turned his head to the screens, as a series of video captures started playing on the screen. It was footage of you - from the training gym, during all your sessions the week prior. 

Tough didn’t seem like enough. You were strategic and resilient and smart. Sure, maybe you needed to work on your pace and Bucky could certainly give you some pointers when it came to aim, he was still impressed.

“Here’s the thing.” Tony paused the footage. “When this incident happened– listen, I know incident isn’t the right word here. But when it happened, someone retroactively cut out some security footage.” He shifted his hand and tapped the screen again. “I just recovered it. And I am looking into how that imbecile managed to bypass the admin code for the security logs.”

“Did you watch it?” Bucky held his breath, tearing his eyes from the screen back towards Tony who shook his head. 

“Not yet.”

Bucky flicked his hand to the screen, to signal for Tony to show him. Bucky stood from his chair and crossed his arms once the video started.

As he watched, the anger flared up in Bucky almost instantly. Just seeing you alone with Boone in the gym made his stomach drop but when Boone shoved you down, Bucky growled.

The footage didn’t have any audio, though Bucky had a feeling that if he could also hear whatever Boone had been shouting at you, he’d be trashing Tony’s lab just to deal with his frustration. 

At first, everything seemed normal enough. Bucky sucked in a breath when Boone pulled off your glasses. His fist clenched tightly when Boone pushed you down to your knees. When Boone’s hand touched your head…

“Good for her,” Tony muttered out when you quickly started to fight back. 

When Boone escalated things though - as your face dragged against the mat, as he pulled at your arms, how he followed up as you tried to crawl away, as he clearly shouted and stomped his feet down on your hand, Bucky couldn’t help but boil over. He let out another growl and grabbed a nearby stool, snapping it over his knee.

He dropped the wooden shards to the ground, apologizing to Tony before requesting he turn off the video.

“Listen,” Tony raised his hands, as if to forgive Bucky for the outburst. “I can’t put Pepper through the PR nightmare if you kill this guy.”

“I’m not going to..” Bucky sucked in a breath. Well, he wasn’t going to speak in absolutes or promises. He could barely see past the red in his eyes, there was no point in lying.

Tony let out a small yelp. “Oh, hold on. Let’s..” He dropped back down onto a rolling chair and moved towards one of his computer screens. “FRIDAY, let’s pull up the last 6th months of data for Agent Nathan Boone. Every swipe in, hour worked, blah blah blah. You know the drill.”

Bucky tried to follow Tony’s thought process, crossing his arms as he watched the screens compile different information.

“When does he usually go to the gym?” Tony asked, swiping ahead of him as he scanned over the data.

FRIDAY’s lilt echoed above them. “Agent Boone, on average, visits the gym every day he is on schedule. He first enters usually between 6 and 6:07AM.”

Tony nodded. “Okay, and when was the last time we did diagnostics on the gym security system?”

“Well, boss, this system doesn’t require regular diagnostics due to the software protection.”

“Right. Then it sounds like we’re due.” Tony shot a glance over his shoulder to meet Bucky’s gaze. “Let’s run it in the morning, around 6AM. Full system shut down - including cameras - for half an hour?”

Bucky grunted. “Make it an hour.”

--

 Following his visit to Tony’s lab, which actually concluded with sharing a glass of whiskey, Bucky made a plan. 

He returned to his apartment and bed, where he luckily found you still sleeping soundly. When you both stirred awake a few hours later, just shy of sunrise, Bucky encouraged you to stay in bed while he hit the gym.

You barely argued as your eyes fluttered shut again, wincing only slightly as you adjusted on the bed. Bucky promised to return with breakfast when he was done.

Then, he headed to the gym. He discovered easily how effective a piece of paper could be at deterring people from entering. One well placed ‘Closed for cleaning’ sign and a locked door kept anyone else from accessing the space after Bucky watched Boone enter.

A thousand scenarios flashed through Bucky’s mind when he saw Boone. On top of the flood of thoughts he wrestled with all night long, Bucky was simply itching to rearrange Boone’s entire dumb fucking face.

But, no. No. He had a plan.

Bucky rolled his head slightly, cracked his knuckles, then headed towards the weight area. It wasn’t hard to find Boone, given he was the only other person in the space. That and he was already proving himself obnoxious - blasting music from his phone instead of using headphones.

“Boone.” Bucky approached slowly. Boone looked up as he did, shifting slightly as he sat on the bench and giving Bucky a small nod.

“What’s up, Sarge?” Boone replied. “I guess you and I are the only early birds today. Usually a few more in here. Though with some of these new recruits, I guess I’m not surprised they don’t give a shit about training.

Bucky sucked in a breath before motioning to the weight rack behind Boone as he set up a bench press. “You need a spot?”

Boone shrugged. “Sure.”

“This your warm up?” Bucky smirked, tapping against the plates resting on the bar. “You’ve gotta be doing more than that these days. Cap told me he’s been impressed by your bulking.”

Boone let out a stiff laugh. “I hit a new max rep last week, actually. I realize that’s nothing compared to you and Cap .”

“C’mon then.” Bucky leaned forward and slapped Boone’s shoulder. “Let’s see what you can do.”

Boone stood up on impact, skepticism evident on his face before he sat again. But, he didn’t falter. “Sure.”

Bucky walked over to the weight rack and grabbed two additional heavy plates, sliding them on as Boone laid down and got into position. 

“Speaking of new recruits.” Bucky bristled as he tried to make convincing small talk with Boone and his dumb fucking face. If Boone thought it was out of character, he didn’t mention it. “How’d training go last week?”

Boone laughed, stretching his arms up to brace the bar. “Yeah, it went fine. Most of them passed. That’s on par with the recent cohorts. Usually one or two bail out.”

“Oh yeah?” Bucky crossed his arms, doing everything in his power to reign himself in. 

“Makes sense. Most people aren’t ready - some will never be–” Boone pressed upwards, inhaling a sharp breath as he lifted the bar.

“Too much?” Bucky took half a step backwards.

“No, no.” Boone carried on, barely moving the bar up off the rack. “I’ve got it.” His arms fully extended, as the weight bar swayed slightly between his arms before he positioned it back in place.

Bucky returned to the weight rack and grabbed two more plates. “Nice. You got more in you?”

Boone hesitated, looking backwards to meet Bucky’s gaze. He nodded. “Absolutely.”

Once the new weights were settled, Bucky stood above him again. 

“Hey.” Bucky closed his eyes, moving to the side of the bench to peer down at Boone. Bucky said your name. “She was training with you last week, right?”

Boone froze momentarily then blinked. “Uh, yeah. I remember her.”

“Between you and me - how’d she do?” Bucky rested his hands underneath the bar, temporarily alleviating some of the weight as Boone pressed upwards again. “Do you think she was ready?”

Boone closed his eyes to focus on his lift. “Between you and me,” he echoed to Bucky. “That dumb broad will never be ready.”

A searing heat coursed through Bucky as he released his hands, stepping back as the overweight bar slammed down on Boone’s chest. Boone roared out in pain, whimpering as the entire barbell rolled down onto his throat. As his arms flailed at his side, trying and failing to push it away, Boone tried to call out for Bucky’s help.

Though his anger remained, watching Boone struggle was still enjoyable. And although Bucky would have been happy to see the barbell crush Boone’s windpipe, he eventually did step forward and reach for the weights.

With his left arm, Bucky removed the bar and threw the entire thing to the side. With his right hand, he yanked Boone up off the bench onto his feet.

“Did you forget how to spot me? The fuck?” Boone shouted, eyes widening as he rubbed at his throat. He swung his arm forward and pushed against Bucky’s chest.  “I could have fucking–”

Bucky snarled, shoving Boone back the same way - sending him into the rack holding the weights. Boone bounced off the structure and tumbled to the side, wincing in pain as Bucky stalked after him. “Why don’t you fight back?”

“Barnes, you’re out of your mind. What the fuck–”

“Fight back.” Bucky advanced closer, looming over Boone as he scuttled backwards on the floor.  “Prove yourself.” It was clear to Bucky that reference hit Boone directly. Although he couldn’t bring himself to snap back, Boone’s face grew red. An extra bead of sweat dripped down from his forehead, as he pressed against the wall.

Bucky crouched down, grabbing Boone’s jaw between his metal fingers. “What the fuck is wrong with you, huh?” Bucky said your name slowly. Boone’s eyes briefly widened. “What do you get out of beating up an agent?” 

“I didn’t–” Boone tried to shake his head. “Is she your little girlfriend or something? Listen, I wouldn’t have – I didn’t know she – What did she say–”

“It doesn’t fucking matter if she’s anyone girlfriend, you piece of shit.” Bucky grabbed him by the throat and pulled him back up to his feet, sparing a moment to spit in Boone’s face before he made his next move. Bucky dropped his hand and took one step back, stretching his arms ahead of himself before letting out a growl. “Fight back, Agent Boone. Prove. Yourself.”

--

Despite your nicely medicated sleep in Bucky’s bed, you were tired. And talking to a lawyer and Pepper and HR and a member of the NYPD police, Officer Reyes, about the entire situation again definitely contributed to your exhaustion. 

You were even on your second coffee but it didn’t seem to be helping. Bucky was practically holding you up as he sat at your side. You were in the medical wing at the tower, going through everything you needed before surgery. It had been scheduled quickly - probably at Tony’s request, given his relationship with Dr. Alvarez. And although you didn’t really want to think about the gravity of having surgery, you couldn’t help but look forward to the healing process. You wanted this all to be over already.

“That’s everything we need. You’re prepared for tomorrow. Start fasting at midnight!” 

You thanked your coworker, Jillian, for being a wonderful nurse and securing you back into your sling. Bucky helped you to stand, giving you a once over to make sure you were okay. 

Bucky had been quiet all morning. That wasn’t particularly out of character, but he seemed tense. You didn’t always see every side of him as friends and now with all this - things were shifting. You didn’t mind it, though. You welcomed it, especially after waking up in his bed and relishing in the sense of security that he was at your side.

“Hey Bucky?” You stopped him once you were outside the doors, heading in the direction of the elevators. 

He immediately frowned, searching your face as he turned to face you. “Are you okay?”

“Yes.” You offered him a reassuring smile. “But are you?”

“Don’t worry about me, sweetheart.”

You rolled your eyes, extending your good hand to grab his. “If you can worry about me, you must know I worry about you too. Can’t help it.”

Bucky cracked a reluctant smile. “Okay. Well, try not to worry about me right now then, okay? You’ve got enough on your plate.”

Before you could hit him back with another defensive rebuttal, you were interrupted by your name being called down the hallway. It was Pepper and Officer Reyes, again.

You drew in a hard breath, relaxing a tiny bit when you felt Bucky squeeze your hand. He hadn’t let go, and it seemed he didn’t plan to. When the officer asked to speak with you, Bucky took the lead and guided you into the nearest consultation room to have the conversation privately.

Pepper opted to wait outside but Bucky joined you, arms crossed in front of the door while you sat opposite the officer.

You really liked Officer Reyes. She was patient, direct, and took her job very seriously. And right now, that meant dealing with Boone.

“Just to give you a fair update,” she started, folding her hands together on top of the table. “We had the arrest warrant prepared and although he swiped in for work and into the gym this morning, we actually found Nathan Boone at his apartment downtown. He came willingly. In fact, it seemed he was waiting for us. He’s been charged with assault in the third degree and you’ll be happy to know he pled guilty.” 

You sat back in your chair, a sense of relief flooding through you. Although you knew there was video footage and physical proof of Boone’s attack, you still had doubts the judicial system would work in your favour. 

“So, is that it?” You asked cautiously. 

Reyes nodded. “From you? Pretty much.” She tipped her head sideways briefly, considering. “I shouldn’t mention this, but given the circumstances, it must be some sort of karmic payback. Nathan Boone was in bad shape when we found him - the guy will probably need some medical attention himself. We asked him about his injuries but he had nothing to say. Fell down the stairs, so he says.”

“Bad shape?” You couldn’t help but ask. You didn’t have any sympathy for Boone but the curiosity surfaced. 

“I have a feeling he’ll have to squeeze in some x-rays and a visit to a dental surgeon in between his court dates.” Reyes stood and offered her hand, giving you a small smile. “I’ll be in touch if we have any loose ends.”

After she left, you remained in your chair, quiet for a moment before you motioned for Bucky to sit. He was sitting after one swift stride, locking eyes with you.

You started slowly. “I meant to ask. How was your workout this morning?”

Bucky was straight faced, matching your pose across the table. “Good.” 

“Nothing else to share?” You pressed, raising an eyebrow. 

“I always like to have a plan when I go to the gym and this morning, I did exactly what I planned on doing.”

You nodded then leaned back in your chair. You knew you could ask exactly what you wanted and he'd tell you the truth. But maybe it was better left unsaid. If you didn’t ask, he didn’t have to explain himself either. But, that didn’t make the entire thing any less of an internal debate.

Why did you care even a little tiny bit about Boone being injured? 

It wasn’t even about Boone. 

It was about someone inflicting pain on your behalf. But, wait. Then again – was there any chance Boone was feeling guilty for his actions? Fueled by his fucked up testosterone levels and short fuse? Why did you have to wrestle with your conscience when he didn’t show even an ounce of remorse for what he did? 

If Bucky had chosen to defend you, to wrestle with Boone instead… Well, maybe that was what needed to happen. 

You remained in a staring contest with Bucky, searching his face for anything. You could see something just behind his lips, a desire to say something else. Maybe he was worried he would upset you with the whole truth about what happened at the gym. If that was the case, you also knew Bucky wouldn’t apologize for what he might have done to Boone.

Bucky was strong willed. He stood up for what he believed in. He’d never want to see injustice or unfair behaviour being excused. 

You sighed then nodded again. “Okay.”

“Okay?” Bucky repeated slowly, tilting his head. “Sweetheart, I—”

“No. It’s okay.” You cracked a small smile. “Bucky, I—thank you. For last night and for not leaving my side and taking care of me, protecting me.. for everything.”

He said your name quietly, reaching across the table for your free hand. “It’s an honour.”

You sucked in a breath, blinking away the feeling of crying again.  “Don’t do that – don’t be cheesy. I won’t survive.”

Bucky just smiled.

--

Somehow an hour long surgery seemed like a lifetime to Bucky. He glanced at his phone to check the time again and let out a long breath, slumping down just a bit further in his chair. Despite your exhaustion, you had barely slept the night before and Bucky felt helpless, even with all his efforts to calm your nerves.

“I’m a nurse, Bucky. I’ve helped so many patients before and after surgeries and I’m still just – I want this to be over.”

Bucky knew you were okay, in the best hands Tony could pay for, but he was still desperate to see you roll back down the hallway, safe and sound.

After another chance to take some breaths and repeat a few of his safe mantras, Bucky looked at his phone. Instead of seeing the time, he saw ‘Sam Wilson’ popping up on his phone.

It had been a very easy task for Bucky - ignoring Sam for the past 48 hours. It was petty, childish even, but he still didn’t want to talk to Sam. Bucky was still sitting in an uncomfortable swell of anger over the whole situation. A situation that could be traced right back to Sam, in a way.

Bucky closed his eyes and finally brought the phone up to his ear when Sam called back again. He stood from his chair and started down the empty hallway.

“This is Sergeant Barnes.”

Sam immediately scoffed on the other end of the line. “Thanks for finally picking up.”

Bucky just grunted. “What do you want?”

“I want you to say out loud what’s bothering you so we can move past this.” 

Silence fell between them before Bucky finally replied again. “You put him in charge, Sam.”

“I have a lot of fucking regrets about that, Bucky.”

Bucky couldn’t help but wince when he heard Sam swear. In the field, Sam certainly had a mouth at times. But during the day to day operations of the job, back in the office, he was usually well restrained. Clearly, he was out of sorts, too.

“And I heard someone already went and put Boone in his place. There is only so much I can apologize for when that jackass cheated the system and misled me. Boone broke my trust and I can get over that. But I am fucking gutted I broke her trust. This never should have happened. I know that.”

“I know you know. I..” Bucky closed his eyes, pausing to rest against the nearest wall. Eventually, he left out a quiet laugh. “I don’t know what to do with my leftover anger, Sam.”

“You and me both, man. At least you got to crack him in the jaw a few times. Wish I could have been there.”

Bucky sighed. “I’ll tell you all about it in great detail. I owe you a beer, alright?”

“Whenever you’re ready to leave your girl's side, pencil me in.”

After he hung up with Sam, then exchanged a few messages with Steve, Bucky resumed his position of waiting for you outside the entrance to the surgical suites. He tried distracting himself with a few reports he had to go over and listened to a few tracks on a new playlist from Natasha. Eventually though, all he could do was stare at the door and be patient.

Soon enough, a nurse appeared at the door and signaled to Bucky he could come through. He was directed to a recovery area and finally, he could feel his shoulders relax. There you were - safe and sound. 

Bucky pulled up a chair beside your hospital bed, greeting you with a smile as you looked towards him. 

“Bucky!”

“Hey doll.” 

“She’s still coming back from the general anesthesia. She might be a bit out of sorts still,” the nurse confirmed, giving you another once over. “The doctor said everything went well and the office will be in touch about follow up appointments.” The nurse paused, giving Bucky a coy smile as she walked away. “She immediately asked for you when she started coming to - Sergeant Handsome.”

“I said that was a private nickname,” you whined, closing your eyes tightly. You tried to push yourself up slightly to sit, but were quickly stopped by your immobilized arm. “Ow.”

“Let me help,” Bucky stood up and adjusted the bed so you could sit up more. 

You turned to look towards him. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Bucky scooted his chair closer and sat again. “You feelin’ okay?”

You nodded. “Just a lil’froggy.. Foggy..”

“So, Sergeant Handsome? Were you talkin’ about me?” Bucky couldn’t help the smile on his face as you closed your eyes. Though it fell just as quickly when you frowned. “What’s wrong?”

“Can I - can I tell you a secret?” You kept your eyes closed, letting out a slow exhale as you settled against the pillows propping you up. 

“Sure, doll.”

“Actually, no, no.” Your eyes shot open, narrowing again as you locked eyes with Bucky. “This hasta be a secret exchange.”

“A secret exchange?”

You licked your lips then used your good hand to point at him. “You tell me one first, then I tell you one. It’s fair.”

“I mean, you started this whole thing,” he laughed, then decided it was probably best to play along. The medication was clearly still making you a bit loopy and the last thing Bucky wanted to do was upset you any further in this state. “Okay. Let’s see.” He paused again then shrugged. “I met my nephew a few weeks ago.”

“Bucky! Oh, oh wow. That’s..” You reached for his closest hand and he met you in the middle. You squeezed his fingers but didn’t let go after. “I’m gonna cry - I’m so happy for you. When I.. I’m back to normal, I wanna hear all about it. Okay?”

“I can’t wait to tell you, sweetheart.” Bucky cradled your hand in his, rubbing his thumb against your skin. “Now, it’s your turn.”

You sucked in a breath and closed your eyes once more. “I’m.. I’m really sad we aren’t gonna have our date.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “Who said we aren’t having our date?”

“We’re suppos’ta celebrate my new position and..” You shook your head. “Look’at me now.. No new job and-and a broken whatever–” You tried to move your casted arm and just winced, which quickly transformed into a yawn. “Who wants to date this..”

Bucky released your hand from his and leaned forward, bringing his palm up to cup your cheek. Exhaustion seemed to catch up with you as you fell back asleep.  “I promise we’re going on that date.” 

--

The first few days following your surgery were painful, as you probably should have anticipated. You insisted Bucky didn’t need to stay at your side the whole time - in fact, you knew he had work to do and an upcoming mission to plan for. Thankfully you had a few close friends in rotation who kept you company throughout your days and somehow an endless supply of credit with your favourite food delivery app, making your life a lot easier. (You assumed you had Tony to thank for that.)

You and Bucky still talked all day long. That made dealing with the pain a lot easier, too.

You: are you doing anything after work? You: if you’re free You: you could come over? Bucky: be there by 7 :)

“It’s going to leave quite the scar, unfortunately.” Your check up with Dr. Alvarez had downgraded you to a removable splint, which you were really relieved about. You were perfectly capable of handling the care yourself and it was nice to release the pressure on your hand.

You had taken the splint off to show Bucky when he showed up. You were sitting beside him on your small loveseat, catching up about your last few days. He was holding your hand gently in his own, tracing his finger lightly over your skin. 

Somehow, by some weird trick of your mind, it seemed like the pain had already become easier to tolerate. Like Bucky’s touch was helping settle your nerves and discomfort.

“Tony has this thing… it could help with that,” Bucky finally responded, his voice barely audible. “The scarring. I don’t know how it works but it can build synthetic tissue and..”

You smiled when Bucky looked back up at you. “Yeah, maybe.” It was clear Bucky was holding something back but you didn’t want to press. “Okay, I have a confession. I invited you here because I need help with something.”

He nodded. “Sure. Whatever you need. What is it?”

It was another unconventional first for you and Bucky and your new whatever relationship status. You had visions of a sexy steamed bathroom, shared laughter and maybe slippery hands and low moans and… This wasn’t how your first shower together was supposed to go.

You chewed on your lip as you tried to figure out the logistics. You had a semi-normal shower the other day, but it had been incredibly difficult if not impossible to get any soap or shampoo where it needed to go with an immobilized arm. Even now, without the splint, you barely had any range of motion in your hand. Plus you were supposed to be taking it easy.

“Okay, so. Let’s…” You turned towards the shower then back towards Bucky, who was standing only a few inches from you - thanks to your tiny New York City apartment bathroom. “I’ll be in the shower. Uhm, naked. Then when I need soap or shampoo or… whatever, I’ll stick my good hand out and you can give it to me.”

Bucky stifled his laughter. “Sure. I can… give you whatever you need, doll.”

“Bucky,” you whined, doing your best not to laugh along with him. “Don’t, please. I know this is weird.”

“I’m sorry,” he immediately sobered up. “I’ll, just..” He turned to face the door, away from you, as you stripped down and got into the shower. “Tell me when I should turn around?”

It wasn’t a very graceful process but it worked. Bucky was very polite and helpful with everything you needed. Truthfully, it would have been better to have him in the shower with you but you just weren’t there yet. Beyond sleeping side by side and cuddling on the couch, nothing further had happened between you. And well, that was expected - given everything. But your stupid injury really was getting in the way.

“Okay, just, uhm - my towel?” You turned off the water and reached out, feeling the fluffy fabric right away. You did your best to wrap it around your body then drew the curtain open again. Bucky was waiting for you, eyes closed tightly but with an extended hand to help you step carefully over the tub. 

“Thank you,” you said quietly. “You can open your eyes - I’m covered.”

“Feel better?” He asked as he opened his eyes, offering you one of those soft, sweet Bucky looks you were coming to really appreciate and love. 

God, you didn’t want to fuck this up. 

“Here, let me..” Bucky took your injured hand and carefully fixed your splint back into place. Then, well, he filled in the small space between you both. 

You sucked in a breath as he positioned his forehead against yours, beads of water and condensation sticking to his skin. “Thank you,” you repeated, though you wondered if it was even audible.

He kept one hand safely holding your injured wrist while his other found a spot on your hip. He whispered your name with just enough inflexion for you to understand his unspoken question. As soon as you tipped your head into a nod, his hand left your hip and was encompassing the side of your neck, thumb running against your jawline.

Your tongue swept across your lips. “ Yes.”

Bucky’s lips met yours, gentle and rough and exactly what you imagined kissing Bucky might be like. A bolt of electricity surged through you, across every nerve. It was the perfect balm to forget about your wrist, about uncertainty, about anything but Bucky.

--

Although you knew you were returning to work on a modified schedule and task list, you had still been nervous about it. Especially because you didn’t know what everyone else knew about Boone and you and what had happened. But luckily you were welcomed back to cheerful coworkers and a very light workload.

And no one mentioned Boone or your injury. You did have to catch on newly updated mandatory company wide training though, directly related to substance abuse and security protocols. 

You got used to working with only one hand, which would still be the case for a few more weeks. But otherwise, things felt okay. And by the time your meal break rolled around, you couldn’t help but feel giddy about being back at the tower. Because you had a lunch date with your boyfriend.

Your boyfriend Bucky Barnes. 

Not that having lunch with Bucky was new, but now it felt like so much more. Every single milestone in your relationship so far had been abnormal but this - this was perfectly ordinary. Although calling him your boyfriend still felt a little foreign on your tongue, you didn’t mind that change. 

When you spotted Bucky in the cafeteria, your knees nearly gave out altogether. You couldn’t help but grin when he stood to greet you, holding a bouquet of flowers in one hand. With the other he pulled you in for a hug, followed by a kiss on the forehead.

“Hi,” you said, using your freehand to brush against some of the petals. “This is unexpected.”

Bucky smiled, taking the seat across from you. “I was going to hand deliver them down to the med floor but I figured you might be a bit overwhelmed this morning. And maybe Sergeant Handsome would distract you from important work.”

You rolled your eyes, though it was impossible to hide your giddiness and fight off your warm cheeks. “You’ve gotta let that one go, please.”

“Absolutely not.” Bucky shook his head, still smiling. God, would you two ever stop smiling? There was something incredibly comforting about knowing Bucky was feeling just as wild as you were when it came to all these kinds of feelings.

Ever since he kissed you - when you were sopping wet and injured and a mess, all wrapped up into a towel - things had just been heightened. Not that everything had been smooth sailing, especially when it came to your pain and this recovery process, but going through all of it with Bucky was exactly what you needed.

Every time you struggled or hit a new roadblock, he let you have a moment to react then he simply cheered you through it. “You can do hard things,” he would echo back to you time and time again. (Which was particularly annoying sometimes, like when you were on your first official date and couldn’t twirl your pasta very well.)

As you were approaching the end of your lunch break, sharing a dessert with Bucky, you sighed. “Can I just say something out loud?” 

Bucky nodded. “Of course.”

“I just…” You reached to adjust your glasses as you found your words. “..can’t help but think about how right now I should be preparing to be on the field team and maybe even going out on missions to help and.. I’m just disappointed.” 

Bucky put down his fork, churning through his own thoughts before he replied.

You continued. “I mean, I guess there’s no way of knowing if I would have even passed the evaluation though. Seeing as I never even… it’s likely I might not have been ready. Maybe I’ll never be ready for it now. I have to start from scratch with this—” You held up your wrist. “I can’t even do the boring parts of my regular job with one hand. I have to do the extra boring stuff instead. I.. I’m just whining. I’m sorry.”

“Do you have to get back right away?” Bucky asked, grabbing his phone. He sent a quick message then stood, extending his hand out for you to grab. “Let me show you something.”

Your manager had told you to ‘take it easy’ your first week back, so running late from lunch probably wouldn’t be a problem. So, you grabbed Bucky’s hand and followed. 

The upper floors of the tower weren’t somewhere you had ever visited before. You shot up the elevator and nearly let out a gasp when you and Bucky arrived in Tony’s lab. It was huge - with bright lights, big windows and plenty of flashing screens. 

“Stark?” Bucky called out, keeping his hand tethered to yours as he guided you through the space. 

“Over here,” Tony called back, popping out from behind a screen. “It’s all loaded up. I’ve gotta run to meet Pepper and some very irritated investors but I’ve granted you full access to the video footage.” He turned towards you. “How’s the hand?”

You tried to give him a thumbs up. You winced. “Getting there.”

“I’ve got a good therapist - physical therapist, that is. No one can help this brain.” Tony tapped his temple. “I’ll send you his details.” 

Just as quickly as you arrived, Tony departed, giving one last pointed look at Bucky before he disappeared into the elevator muttering into his wrist. 

“Sit,” Bucky instructed, pulling a chair and positioning it in front of the screen. “Please.”

You let out a dramatic sigh before complying. 

Bucky sat in another chair at your side, picking up a nearby tablet. With a swipe of his hand, video footage appeared on the screen ahead. It started to play. 

It was footage of you - giving your all during your training sessions. From the sparring drills to physical challenges, you kept up and even performed better than some of the others. 

You snuck a glance towards Bucky, who was watching the footage with what could only be described as a proud smile. 

“You’re resilient, sweetheart,” Bucky said quietly, turning his head. “Although I could offer you some tips, you woulda past Sam’s eval - there’s no doubt in my mind.”

“Tips? Like what?” You couldn’t help yourself from smirking. “You wanna throw down on a gym mat?”

“Preferably a mattress, actually,” he muttered, raising an eyebrow as he paused the video. “Well, right there - you could have—” 

“Okay, I don’t need a play by play.” You nodded and let out a slow exhale. “I get it. I’m capable. I just have to.. get back to that.”

Bucky turned back to you again. “You’ll get there. I’ll help. I can be your personal trainer.”

“Okay.” You leaned over and pressed a kiss to his lips. “Now, about that mattress.”

--

 ONE YEAR LATER

Three months. It had been three months since you were officially on the field medical team. The job hadn’t been easy or soft - especially the first time you were dealing with bullet wounds in the middle of nowhere. 

The med team was a tight knit group though - you had joined a new training group following many months of recovery and training and luckily found a wonderful team of colleagues. Not only that, your time supporting major Avengers missions had been an incredible, and daunting, experience.

But today, three months in, you were finally on a mission with your boyfriend. Bucky’s speciality was covert ops and most of his missions were small-scale and secretive, with only a select team of Avengers involved. But this particular mission was a bit different - with the medical team joining later as things had escalated.

After everything had settled, including a few injured civilians who were assisted and transported for further care, everyone had returned to the jets with a long flight home ahead. You found a spot on the jet with Bucky, Sam, Steve and a few others. 

“Agent! Medical attention is needed over here.” 

You whipped your head around, searching for Steve and where his voice was coming from. You took a few strides forward, pausing as the jet started to take off. You found Steve sitting near the back with Bucky.

“This man is dying of a broken heart, apparently,” Steve rolled his eyes, pushing off from his leaning position and patting Bucky on the shoulder. “Good luck.”

You just sighed but couldn’t help smiling. You grabbed Steve’s arm before he got too far away. “Want me to clean that up?” You pointed to a small cut near his hairline.

Steve waved his hand. “Thank you but it’ll be fine by morning.” He gave you another smirk before heading to sit with Sam in the cockpit.

“What’s wrong with you, Sergeant Handsome?” You smiled at Bucky as you stood in front of him.

He reached out to place his hands on your hips, slotting you just between his legs as he sat. “Two hours with you and not even a kiss yet.”

“Oh my god,” you swatted his shoulder. “I was helping people. Your knives were flying all over the place. When was the optimal time for that?”

He replied with an exaggerated eye roll. “Alright, fine.” He extended his hand up to cradle your jaw, pulling you down to meet his lips. 

“Better?” You asked, shifting to take the seat beside him. 

“Much.” He nodded, turning enough to get a better look at you. “How are you doing though? I know today is–”

“I meant what I said the other night,” you cut him off. “Seriously.”

You knew Boone was getting out of jail after serving a year, which admittedly was the best sentencing you could have hoped for. Not that it really made up for his indiscretions but you knew you’d never see him again anyway. You didn’t want to waste anymore of your energy or time on him ever again.

“Forgetting he exists is only one thing. You know I can make sure he actually ceases existing and–”

“Bucky,” you laughed, shaking your head. “I’m good. Truly.”

You lifted your right hand to stretch your fingers, taking a moment to admire the fancy glove Tony had designed for you. It was reinforced with something that gave you even more support when out in the field. You were grateful for it, though your rehabilitation had been successful. Slowly you pulled it off your hand, pausing to stare at the lines on your skin. All that remained was an occasional ache and some fading scars.

Out of the corner of your eye you saw Bucky raising his right hand and you grinned. You knocked your knuckles into his twice then wiggled your fingers at one another. Before you could pull back, Bucky gently grabbed your hand and moved it closer, pressing a soft kiss against your scarred knuckles.

Maybe you were left with a few fading scars. And maybe every single step along the way hadn’t been easy. 

But you had Bucky by your side. Bucky, who you found unintentionally, whose touch filled you with life. 

And maybe that was all you needed.

[thekinslayed]

Just You, Just Me: Prologue

summary | A pursuit to prove a point leads to a chance encounter that leaves you questioning the script you thought you knew. He was the kind of man you meet only once, or maybe over and over in your mind.

pairing | modern!aemond targaryen x columnist!reader

wordcount | 1k

tags | none yet!

note | happy thanksgiving! hope you like this little intro to this new world. hold on tight, we're going to have some fun <3

-> masterlist

likes, comments, reblogs are much appreciated!

We all know the story. Girl meets boy. Boy wines and dines her, sucks and fucks, holds her hand across town for 2 weeks. On Sunday, he promises her dinner on the Bay on Tuesday. Boy takes a rain check on Tuesday. An awfully long rain check. Girl never hears from boy again.

Welcome to King’s Landing. A floating island once said to be built by some lords on dragons, now a sprawling mecca of 20-something young women, some 30-and-more unmarried, stiff-gelled yuppies, and underwear models on billboards. There might have once been a castle high up on the hill, but the city is always a happy hunting ground. Strings are never attached and walks are never done in shame. It’s eat or be eaten. Or eat some more. 

This was where love sprouted wings and morphed into a horned monster that ate the fruit of monogamy. Thousands of 20-something, attractive, spry young women were stuck in the storybook where the 20-something, handsome, slick young man left her in the end. Same old, same old. But things are changing. For the first time, women had enough money, zeal, and almost enough power to lure a man into bed and leave him the next morning without having to feel anything. Haven’t you heard? Women can fuck like men too. 

Aegon Targaryen was the poster child of the system that ran KL. 32, silver-gold shorn locks, a pocketful of daddy’s cash, and an empty resumé written in ostrich skin, he cruised through life with an ease only nepotism can bestow. Now, were you once the girl who thought to change one of the city’s most well-spread bachelors? Perhaps. Were you the same girl when you were 24 and 26? Sure, but you learned your lesson soon enough. See, it’s the hair that really gets you, you know? And those thighs. Foolhardy Aeg was now your old reliable, who adorably thought he could still spin you around on his dragon-ringed finger but he was your sweet little guinea pig you could call up in a ring for a little experiment. All in pursuit of science, of course. This column didn’t write itself.

You found him at the bar at Gino’s with a cigarette hanging off his perfectly pouty lips. It didn’t take much effort— a ruffle of your hair, a chiffon strap falling off your shoulder, and the golden boy was dragging you halfway through Midtown to his 13th-floor flat. It was half past three when his name left your lips in a screech when he made you cum on his cold tongue ring. Something the girl at 24 and 26 certainly did not get. If you did, maybe you would’ve tried harder to cling to his scuffed Chelseas.

“Wow,” you said. A slight puddle of sweat pooled in between your collarbones because Aegon liked to keep his south-facing flat at 70 degrees. 

“I know,” he chuckled, emerging from the crumpled-down blankets and settling by your side. “Alright, love, my turn.”

You pouted at him, and told him you had to meet your editor uptown at 5. You left the confused, slightly offended pup with a kiss on the cheek and a promise to call. All in a day’s work.

Aegon would understand. He knew how the game worked. You left the sleek high rise with your shoulders pushed back and a glow in your skin that could only come from the power of the female sex. This was cathartic. No wonder men had the perpetual feather in their otherwise gaudy hats. With this revelation, you were ready to conquer the world with a newfound approach to sex in the city. 

The streets were an early rush hour maze. A man— work jacket, mud-stained jeans— bumped straight into your shoulder without a single glance away from his Scratch-Off card. And just like that, the bubble of your post-orgasmic hubris burst as the contents of your pearly Chanel splattered onto the concrete.

Your savior came in shiny brown Oxfords and a wool coat to match. You could barely look into his eyes as he handed your eyelash curler and the string of textured Trojans. You mumbled a thanks, and he told you it was no problem but the light quip in his tone told something else. You looked up to the glint of the late afternoon sun bouncing off glass, and a shimmer of slicked-back silver hair.

Another Targaryen.

King’s Landing had no shortage of this pale-haired, sharp-tongued breed, of course, but most you’ve met had diluted dragon’s blood, held little of the signature charm, except Aegon. Except this stranger before you. His eyes were icy blues, but one was a shimmering jewel of the finest treasure as he shamelessly stared at what you couldn’t hide. Your eyes met, and he knew that you knew, and he hadn’t backed down at all. 

“That’s a pretty necklace,” he smirked. Still staring. You heard yourself mutter a ‘Thanks. Vintage.’ and you started to desperately need a cigarette. 

“Mm. Looks like a million bucks on ya.” You spotted a dimple before the breeze blew your hair into your eyes. It felt warm. You felt seen, as though he knew exactly where you had just been. Mr. Blue then handed the last of your fallen pieces— a loose note, some pins, and a prayer card. With a nod and a painted amusement on his face seemingly plastered permanently, he brushed past you, way too close, and you swore something warm held onto the dip of your waist before the breeze took it away. He was a shadow of sorts, something there and not there at once, leaving behind only a fleeting sense of possibility. 

You couldn’t decide if you were charmed, challenged, or just caught in a game you didn’t know you’d started. Not a moment too soon, your stranger disappeared into the revolving glass doors you had just stridden out of, and you were left wondering if you had met a prophet, a thief, or the keeper of all the truths you’d been seeking. Your words were brief, your connection elusive, but something lingered, like the whisper of a story unfinished. Was it chance or design? In a place like this, can you ever tell the difference? You might not be as adept at this game as you thought you were. Maybe this was different. You might be a fool. Perhaps you really do just meet someone who knocks the air out of your lungs with a look, or maybe it’s the smog. As you walked aimlessly against the current of the tide, stumbling on your well-worn Blahniks, you couldn’t help but wonder— in a city as pungent and brutal as King’s Landing, is love at first sight a folly for the foolish?

[walkingdetroit]

Fall in Midtown. 10/16/23

[yzzaqczec]

Symbiosis

Mark Grayson x Reader (Venom Symbiote)

Prologue

The sky cracked open with thunder as a black streak tore across the skyline, moving too fast for most eyes to follow. But not Mark Grayson’s. Hovering high above the city in his Invincible suit, he narrowed his eyes, trailing the blur as it weaved erratically between buildings like a sentient shadow.

Whatever it was… it wasn’t normal.

And it wasn’t human.

You crashed down hard on the rooftop of a midtown office tower, claws digging into the concrete as the symbiote settled over your form like a living armor. The voice in your head Venom growled with anticipation.

"He’s close. The Viltrumite. We know his scent."

You didn’t answer. Your body still ached from the jump across states, still wasn’t used to Venom’s full power. It wasn’t just bonding to you—it was becoming a part of you. And the more it grew, the more the line between you and it blurred.

Mark landed a few feet away, boots cracking the roof’s surface as he stood in a battle stance, eyeing you warily. His fists clenched.

“Who are you?” he asked. “And what the hell are you?”

Venom chuckled, your voice overlapping with his in an eerie, dual-tone rasp.

"We are hungry."

You grimaced, trying to pull the symbiote back, forcing your voice to come through clearer. “Wait—I’m not here to fight.”

Mark didn’t move. His eyes flicked over your form, noting the writhing black matter, the jagged teeth visible even when you weren’t talking. “Could’ve fooled me.”

"He is strong. We could rip him in half."

“Not helping,” you muttered to the symbiote, stepping back. “Listen… I didn’t come here to cause trouble. I’m looking for help.”

“Help?” Mark echoed, still skeptical.

You nodded. “Something’s coming. Bigger than your Viltrumite war. Bigger than Earth. And if we don’t team up, we’re all screwed.”

Venom licked its monstrous lips.

"Or… we just eat everyone and leave."

Mark raised a brow. “…You’re serious?”

“Dead serious.”

He hovered just a few inches off the roof now, indecision playing across his face. Then he sighed.

“I hate this kind of day.”

TO BE CONTINUED…

pls recommend some ideas for this fic😭😭

[melmedarda]

arcane ep 1 dashboard simulator

🌉 pilt-power Follow

did we all hear about the explosion in the kiramman building in midtown? somebody's getting fired and i hope its old cassie

🗝️ kirammankitty Follow

literally get off her case? yes it was an apprenta from her clan whos apartment was blown up but its not her fault. she is a mother and a fully functioning member of society you're just jealous you'll never be as rich and influential as she is

🌉 pilt-power Follow

don't know how to tell you this but she's not gonna fuck you.

#some people wanna eat the rich and not in the cannibalistic way #anways fuck the kirammans

🏚️ zaun-and-zest Follow

deckard won't admit it but he got his ass handed to him by a girl. so much for his hardass exterior

🥊 fist-in-your-face Follow

are you saying girls can't fight?

🌐 worldstarzaun Follow

i saw thatttt bro, she let him have it. we were like let him get up, let him get up #deckardassbeating

🏚️ zaun-and-zest Follow

no i'm implying he is weaker than a girl do not put words in my mouth i will enforce my foot up your ass

🍃 downthesump420 Follow

i swear to janna if that pleasure house yordle makes eyes at me again i'm jumping into the pilt and filing a restraining order

🏩 babettes-saggy-tits Follow

why is it you. what do you have that i do not?

👤 life-in-the-lanes-deactivated-3404985 Follow

those damn kids have got the fucking enforcers breaking down my door and for WHAT. this is why i don't want kids they are too much trouble. normalize celibacy

🍺 alkaholical Follow

you won't have that chance have kids bc nobody will sleep with you unless you pay them

👤 life-in-the-lanes-deactivated-3404985 Follow

my mother will know your name

🐹 deathtoheimer Follow

you aren't living in zaun if you don't have multiple organ failure!!!!

🐹 deathtoheimer Follow

👮🏾 grayson-fanpage Follow

Grayson sighted in the Lanes, at Benzo's shop.

🚨 graysonsulimatefanboy Follow

grayson pick me please pick me please pick me please pick me please pick me please pick me im on my knees pleace pick me plouse pick me come over i'm at 69 sidereal st

🫄graysoncocksleeve Follow

mommy longdick just landed back in the lanes!!!!!! welcome mommy longdick!!!!

🚓 graysontheemilf Follow

now what is she doing in the ghetto? free my milf!!! grayson come home baby, the kids miss you!!

🔗 graysons-left-asscheek Follow

humilating how you all are begging over an enforcer who enables piltover's unjust presence and occupation of zaun. disgusting!!! the gray has muddled your minds. that being said, i need grayson to dom me.

🚫 defundthenenforcers Follow

using this post as a blocklist, all of you are sick fucks

🍻 thelastfop Follow

fuck that piltie marcus his stupid face makes me want to kill someone

💦 dilfvander Follow

a fellow marcus hater on my dash??? legendary because i hate that sleeze bag too. i hope he stubs his toe every morning and gets an itch he can never scratch and falls into the pilt and is run through a ship propeller and his remains float out to bilgewater where he becomes fish food. dishonor on him and his family fr.

🍻 thelastfop Follow

bro said

[worldsmessiestwriter]

That’s the trifecta.

tw - nothing

word count - 1,446

Peter Parker x Spoiled Stark! Reader

—————————————————————————

Tony Stark always claimed to be a genius, but lately, Y/N Stark was convinced her father was losing his touch. His latest invention? A scrawny high school intern named Peter Parker, who had somehow managed to worm his way into Tony’s good graces—and worse, into her carefully curated world.

For months now, her father had been spending hours mentoring Peter, teaching him things Y/N had assumed were reserved for her. The betrayal stung more than she cared to admit, so she covered it the only way she knew how: by making Peter’s life completely miserable.

And Peter, to his credit, was no pushover. Sure, he’d try to ignore her snide comments and fake-sweet tone, but every so often, he’d snap back. To Y/N, it was thrilling. To Peter, it was exhausting.

“Parker, you’re in my seat,” Y/N said one afternoon, stepping into her father’s lab with the kind of air that made everyone instinctively straighten up. She wasn’t wearing her school uniform today—Tony had summoned her for some family meeting—but her designer outfit looked as though it cost more than the entire workshop.

Peter didn’t bother looking up from the blueprint he was studying. “It’s not your seat, Y/N. It’s just a chair.”

“Aw, how quaint,” she said, leaning over the table so her perfectly polished nails tapped against the blueprint. “But it is my seat because this is my father’s lab. You? You’re just visiting.”

Peter finally looked up, clearly annoyed. “I’ve been working here all afternoon. You’ve been, what? Shopping? Getting another manicure?”

“Guilty,” Y/N said with a dazzling smile. “But let’s not act like I don’t contribute. I’m a Stark. My existence contributes.”

“Sure,” Peter said flatly. “That must be exhausting for you.”

Tony’s voice cut through before Y/N could retort. “Alright, that’s enough.” He was leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, his expression somewhere between amused and exasperated. “Y/N, stop terrorizing Parker. Parker, stop taking the bait.”

“Who’s baiting who?” Y/N said innocently, tossing her hair over her shoulder.

“Starting Monday,” he said casually, “you’re transferring to Midtown High.”

Y/N froze. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” Tony said. “You and Parker are going to the same school. I think spending more time together will help you two work out… whatever this is.”

Y/N’s jaw dropped, but she quickly recovered, plastering on her usual radiant smile. “You’re funny, Dad. But no.”

Tony smirked. “It’s not up for discussion, kiddo.”

Her smile faltered. “But why? I already have friends, fans and status at my school.”

“Exactly,” Tony said. “Time to shake things up. You’ll survive.”

Y/N had prepared for her debut like it was a runway show. She stepped onto the Midtown High campus in a outfit tailored to perfection, her signature confident smile in place. The effect was immediate: heads turned, whispers spread, and within minutes, she had a flock of curious students trailing behind her.

“Oh, my God,” one girl gushed. “You’re so pretty. Are you, like, famous?”

Y/N tilted her head with a practiced laugh. “Not officially. But give it time.”

By lunchtime, she was firmly entrenched at the most exclusive table in the cafeteria. She sat at the center, sipping sparkling water she’d brought from home while her new entourage hung on her every word.

Peter, sitting at his usual table with Ned and MJ, stared in disbelief. “She’s been here for, what, five hours? How is she already the most popular person in school?”

“She’s rich, confident, and mean,” MJ said without looking up from her book. “That’s the trifecta.”

Y/N caught Peter’s eye from across the cafeteria and gave him a little wave, her smile impossibly sweet. Peter groaned.

“Parker!” she called, loud enough for the room to hear. “Shouldn’t you be eating your vegetables? You need to keep up your strength for all that… science-ing.”

Ned snickered, but Peter just glared. “She’s the worst.”

Y/N’s transition to Midtown High wasn’t just about popularity—it was another battleground for her rivalry with Peter.

In physics, the teacher announced a pop quiz, and Y/N immediately raised her hand. “Do we really need a quiz? I mean, it’s so basic. Even Parker might pass.”

Peter rolled his eyes. “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Y/N.”

“Oh, you’re welcome,” she said brightly, as if he’d genuinely thanked her.

When the grades came back, Y/N had scored a near-perfect 98%. Peter, to his frustration, had a 96%.

“Aw, so close,” Y/N said as they exited the classroom. “Maybe next time, Parker.”

“It’s two points,” Peter said, gritting his teeth.

“Two points that separate the winners from the losers,” Y/N said, flashing him a dazzling smile.

The real showdown came a few weeks later at a party thrown by one of the popular kids. Naturally, Y/N was the star of the event, gliding through the room like royalty. Peter, dragged there by Ned and MJ, tried to stay out of her way.

But Y/N, of course, found him.

“Parker,” she said, appearing at his side with a drink in hand. “You clean up… decently. For a boy from Queens.”

Peter turned to face her, already annoyed. “And you’re still the same, no matter where you go.”

“Flattered,” Y/N said, raising her glass. “But you’ll have to be more specific. Same gorgeous face? Same impeccable style?”

Peter smirked. “Same need to make everything about you.”

Y/N’s smile faltered for just a second before she recovered. “It’s not a ‘need,’ Peter. It’s a gift. One you clearly don’t have.”

Before he could respond, the crowd called for a game of trivia. Naturally, Y/N and Peter ended up on opposing teams.

The competition was fierce, each of them determined to outshine the other. When Y/N’s team finally won, she couldn’t resist throwing Peter a smug smile.

“Better luck next time, Parker,” she said, flipping her hair as she walked away.

Despite their constant bickering, there were moments when their rivalry softened. One afternoon, during a group project, they found themselves working late in the library.

“You know,” Peter said, breaking the silence, “you don’t always have to be… like this.”

“Like what?” Y/N asked, not looking up.

Peter hesitated. “Perfect. It’s okay to just be yourself.”

Y/N’s hand froze mid-note, but she quickly recovered, her smile returning. “Why would I settle for ‘just myself’ when I can be everything?”

Peter sighed and despite his urges he didn’t leave. for the rest of the night, they worked in silence—until Y/N stole his last slice of pizza, just to prove she could.

—————————————————————————

[the-badger-mole]

It's Time For Second...second....SECOND DATE UPDATE!!!!

{Transcript of Second Date Update from Tho and Due in the morning. Originally aired 1-/--/---

Good morning, RC! Thank you for tuning into Tho and Due in the Morning! I'm your host Tho.

And I'm Due! And it's time for Second Date Update! Today's first guest is Aang. Aang recently went on a date with a young lady that he says went really great, bu~ut he hasn't had any luck setting up a second date. {cue sad Aww! sound effect}

That's right. This situation is a bit different though. Usually on these calls, the first date is still the "getting to know you" phase for our couples, but Aang says that he and this girl had been friends for a while and actually knew each other pretty well before their first date. We're going to let him tell his story. Aang?

Thanks, guys. Yeah, Katara and I have been friends for about ten years now. We met when we were in high school, and I've been in love with her since the beginning. I had been trying for years to get her to go out with me, and she finally said yes!

Congrats! Tell us a bit about the date. Did something go wrong? Did she say anything to make you think she was upset at the end?

No! The date was amazing! I pulled out all the stops. We went to a nice restaurant, then a walk by the water, and dessert at this cafe that makes the best custard tarts in the city. We even kissed! But when I tried to make a second date, she said she was busy. I tried to talk to her when we were hanging out at our friend's house, and she seemed weirdly distant. I didn't know how to get her to talk to me, so I reached out to you guys.

Aw! Well, let's get Katara on the phone and see if we can't sort this out for you, alright, buddy?

{phone rings. rings. rings. ri-}

Hello?

Hi, is this Katara {last name redacted}?

Um...yeah? Who is this?

This is Tho from Tho and Due in the Morning on ZK100.

O-kay? What's this about?

You're on the air live with us on our radio show!

Radio show? Those are still a thing?

{Due laughs awkwardly}

Yeah, we're a hold over from the age of the dinosaurs. Anyway, you're on a segment we call the Second Date Update. We're calling you because we were contacted by a friend of yours. Did you go on a date with Aang a few weeks ago?

Yeah, I did go out with him once, like two months ago. What about it?

Well, Aang had a great time on that date, and he'd like to take you out again. We just wanted to know if you'd be interested.

No.

Oh, ouch! That was quick. Mind if we ask what happened? Aang said it was a lovely night.

{Tho laughs at Due}

Lovely night? Who are you? King Kuei?

Whatever man. So, Katara, did something happen that night that made you not want to go out with Aang again? From what he tells us, you two were already friends, so you like something about him, right?

He's...fine. Yeah, we're friends, but I didn't have as good a time that night as he seems to have had.

Oh? Do tell! He made it sound like a nice time. Dinner, a nice walk and then dessert. A kiss at the end of the night...

Ha! Okay, so the basics are right, we had dinner at this vegan spot in midtown-

Oof! Vegan! I see why you didn't want a second date.

What? No, no, that wasn't the problem. I'm fine with eating vegan sometimes, and it was a nice restaurant. But I made the mistake of telling him how much I liked my meal, and he launched into this long, preachy diatribe about the virtues of eating plant based, and how awful it was to eat meat. He stopped short of outright calling me a murderer, but only just. Then after dinner, he insisted he on what he called a short walk to a cafe for dessert. It was a mile through the most secluded part of Shori Park- you know, where they had that string of muggings over the summer? And I was in heels. I wanted to turn back and drive, but Aang kept insisting it wasn't much farther. I didn't feel safe walking back on my own, so I kept going. My feet were killing me and my shoes were ruined by the time we got to the cafe.

Yikes! That does not sound like the evening Aang described.

Oh, but there's more! It turns out Aang's a regular at this particular cafe, and he's very popular there. Very popular. He flirted with the cashier for like ten minutes. Then when he finally came back to our table with our orders, we kept being interrupted by all these girls who just had to ask him about random things or ask him to show them his marble trick- which by the way, isn't that interesting. I got a cab on Yip Yip, and it when it finally came, Aang was shocked to hear that I didn't want to walk back through the park to his car. He insisted on walking me out, and before I got in the car, he did kiss me. He smashed my lip into my teeth. I thought for sure I'd be bleeding.

Ooo...ouch!

Woah...yeah. I-I guess I can understand why he hasn't heard from you about a second date. But he'd been trying to get a date with you for a while, right?

No. I knew he had a crush on me at one point, but he never made a move. Then he suddenly asked me out. I had broken up with my ex a few months earlier, and Aang was the complete opposite of him. I thought why not give it a try with him.

Well, maybe he was nervous.

Trust me, if you had seen him in that cafe playing up for his crowd of admirers, nervous is the last word you'd use to describe him.

Wow... That sounds like a rough night. We actually have Aang on the other line. Would you mind if we brought him into the conversation?

{Katara heaves a heavy sigh}

I guess...

Alright. Go on Aang.

Hey Katara...

Hi, Aang.

I heard what you said about that night. I didn't realize you'd had such a bad time.

Well, maybe if you had let me get a word in edgewise.

I'm sorry I took you to a vegan restaurant. But you know I'm an ethical-

Ethical vegan. Yes. I know. I didn't have a problem with the restaurant. I had a problem with being browbeaten about eating meat. I respect the fact that you don't eat meat. You need to respect the fact I do.

That's like asking me to respect the fact that some people murder.

I can't have this argument with you again, Aang. I'm hanging up.

Wait! Please don't! I'm sorry, Katara. Can't we just talk this out?

There's not that much to talk about, Aang. Listen, you're a nice guy, but I don't feel that way about you.

How do you know after one date? I screwed up. I admit it, but I promise I'll do better next time.

Katara, we usually ask if you'd like to go on a second date. It would be completely paid for by the station. We'll even spring for a chauffeur so you don't have to worry about walking through sketchy areas at night.

No thank you.

Please, Katara! Give me one good reason you won't give me just one more chance.

I don't want to.

That's not a reason.

Okay, fine. You're self-involved to the point that you're boring. And you don't pay attention to anything I say. I've known you for almost ten years, and you brought me panda lilies for our date.

Those are very expensive flowers!

That I'm allergic to! Which you should know. You were there the first time I got hives from them.

No way!

Aaaahahahahaha! Aang! Buddy....!

I'm sorry! I forgot. I got nervous, and I wanted to impress you.

We've been friends for years. What made you think you had to put on some big production for me?

I-I just...

Yeah, great. Let it go, Aang. We gave it a shot, and it didn't work out.

That's not fair! You can't just throw away any chance of us working because of one awkward date. I've been waiting for years for this. It can't be over already, just like that.

I'm not arguing with you about this.

Wait, wait, wait! Come on, Katara! You have to give me another chance. We're supposed to be together!

Based on what?

On...well, haven't I been a good friend to you?

I don't know man...you didn't know she was allergic to panda lilies

Just because we're friends doesn't mean we're supposed to date.

I don't want to date you! I want to marry you! You-you're my Forever Girl.

{Tho, Due and Katara are all silent}

You can't be serious. I'm hanging up now.

If you hang up, our friendship is over.

Wow...okay. I didn't want to tell you this over the radio, because I thought it would hurt your feelings, but now I don't care. I'm dating Zuko now.

What?

Who's Zuko?

You can't be dating Zuko. You hate him!

I don't hate him. I've been friends with him for almost as long as I've been friends with you. We've been going out for a few weeks, and we just made it official a couple days ago. Even if I did want a second date with you, I don't think he'd appreciate me going out with another man.

Don't do this Katara! He's all wrong for you!

Good-bye, Aang.

Well, I think we lost Katara. Sorry about how that ended there, buddy.

There's plenty other girls. What about that cashier you were flirting with? In the middle of your date...

{Aang hangs up. Tho tries and fails to smother his laughter}

Well, that's all the time we have for today. Thanks for joining us on ZK100. Republic City's number one station for today's top hits, and the home of Second Date Update.