#anywho... still in a haze about it all... not sure where i am or what day it is....

[laddersmp3]

went to church once and these were the nuns now im gay

[arizona2004]

Safe Haven

Requested: yes

Cazriel x reader

word count: 3914

My face was pressed into the mud; I couldn’t even scream anymore. Three males held me down so I could barely move, but I was too tired from fighting so hard to struggle anyways. I was about to give up when the tip of a blade grazed my wing, and I remembered what I was fighting for. They were trying to clip my wings. I fought against the hold the males had on me to no avail. The fourth male brought his knife down, tearing it into my left wing. And not just once, not twice, but three long wounds. Then onto my right-wing. I tried holding back the tears, but it did me no good. I sobbed into the ground as not only my wings were taken from me, but the freedom and joy they stood for. 

When the knife was pulled from my wing, I thought it was done, but the male picked up mud and smothered it in the open wounds. They burned, everything burned, and it was getting blurry. I was going to pass out, I realized. “No one is to touch her, no one is to clean her wounds, no one is to heal her,” the voice of the camp leader rang out behind me before he walked away, and I fell into unconsciousness. 

I awoke a few times the next day, but when I did, it was to burning pain at my back and pitying eyes in all the females that walked by. I noticed I was no longer where I had been, pushed off to the edges of the camp, no longer in their way. So I turned my head away and looked at the forest to my left, falling asleep once more. 

It was the next time that I woke, that I was not alone. I felt someone crouching to my right, and as I turned to look at him, another person crouched to my left. I whipped my head to the left to find Azriel. Staring at me with pain and grief behind his eyes. “It- it’s gonna be okay,” I heard from my right. Cassian. I turned to him to see the same look in his eyes and tears. He’s crying. “It’s gonna be okay. We’ll fix this,” he murmured, pushing my hair back from my face.

I turn my face away, looking toward Azriel, but he’s not there. That’s when I hear the shouting. I look back to Cassian and passed him to the camp. I can’t see the women and children. There are only men; they’re being pushed inside a blue-force field? Yes. All of the men are being rounded up and forced into a prison, and there is Azriel: collecting them and pushing them all inside. I look back to Cassian and notice beneath the sorrow in his eyes is anger. He combs a hand soothingly through my hair, “We’ll take you to Madja. She can heal you,” he says, voice cracking. That’s when I notice the bandages on my back and the fact that I am not in as much pain as before. Whatever infection was settling in has been slowed by magic. 

He continues soothing me until Azriel calls, “Cassian, they’re all here.”

“I’ll be right back,” he places a kiss atop my head and stands, walking toward Azriel. I watch in a haze as my males, my lovers, question all the men. Anywho are young, innocent, or remorseful are released. There aren't many.

They decipher who the males at the core of hurting me were. The camp leader and the ones that held me down. They were pulled aside one by one, and I had to close my eyes while Cassian and Azriel took turns hurting them. Through it all, I listen to them fighting, to their yells, and their pleas. 

“We didn’t know she was your lover,” some of them screamed.

In the end, I’d turned my head away from the scene. I am no stranger to blood and gore, and I would never be angry with Cassian and Azriel for what they are doing, but I do not revel in watching those males dying. The camp leader is the last of them to die. He spits out cruel and disgusting words at all three of us, and I try not to listen. I’m not sure which of them does it, but his words are suddenly cut off as his head is cut from his neck.

Cassian returns to me first. He pulls the make-shift bandages from my wings, inspecting the wounds beneath, “Az, we need to get her to Madja. We couldn't have cleaned the wounds well enough, and she’s still losing blood,” he said over his shoulder. Seconds later, I felt a hand on my shoulder, and we were spinning through space.

The room we landed in was clean. The floors and walls were pristine white and blue, and everything looked very orderly. Nothing was out of place or messy. A few people were in the large room, and their attention was immediately drawn to us as Azriel winnowed us in. Whatever place this was, it had many doors leading out of it and many healers- I realize as several of the males and females come to inspect my wings. Faintly I hear Azriel speaking to an older female. She must have ordered me moved because soon, Cassian is carrying me through one of those many doors and into a room with nothing more than a bed and a couple of chairs in it.

Then, I must have fallen asleep again because I woke up hours later, remembering very little after being brought to this healing den. I’m lying flat on my stomach, facing Cassian asleep in a chair to my left. Slowly I blink my eyes awake and turn my head. Azriel is seated on my other side with his head in his hands. When I try to speak, only a quiet groan escapes my throat. Azriel sits up suddenly and before he can mask it I make note of the guilt and pain behind his eyes. Cassian also jolts up behind me and moves to Azriel’s side of the bed. He’s far less skilled at hiding his emotions; they’re always written all over his face.

I want to speak, but the words won’t come. As if knowing my question, though, Azriel says, “she couldn’t save them,” Cassian turns his face down, away from me, and Azriel avoids my eyes too, as he continues, “She tried. Several healers did, but they couldn’t save your wings. The infection was too great. You’re lucky to be alive.”

A choked sob leaves me as everything crashes in. My wings have been clipped. I’ll never fly again. I turn my face into my pillow, dry sobbing into it, while Cassian sits on the edge of the bed. I feel his hand hover over my back, but he pulls back, deciding not to touch me. 

I feel like I can’t breathe as I heave into the pillow and wish the entire world would just disappear. I know Cassian is saying something, but I don’t hear his words. Azriel hasn’t said anything else, but I can feel his eyes on me and the guilt in them. 

After some time, I fall asleep again. 

*

Before I even open my eyes, I know it's not a nightmare as I had hoped. My wings ache with burning pain. “You’re due to take another tonic for the pain soon. I can go get it,” Azriel says from behind me. He must have sensed my pain. When I open my eyes to look at him, he is not who I see. Slouched forward in a chair, head lying on the bed, is Cassian. One of his hands is brushing against mine, and I move it closer, wanting more contact. I look slightly behind me at Azriel and tell him with my eyes that I would like that. 

He’s gone for only a moment before he returns. I barely had the chance to blink, and he was already back. Walking over to my left side, where Cassian sleeps, Azriel helps pour the bitter liquid down my throat and gets water to ease that too. 

My hand rests on top of Cassians; I briefly look before returning to Azriel. “He must be exhausted to not have woken up yet,” I say.

Azriel looks down at him and puts his hand to Cassian's head, gently running his fingers through the dark curls, “He wouldn’t sleep. Drank so much coffee he couldn’t even dose off; he didn’t want to. Eventually, I knocked him out.”

I raise my eyebrows in shock, but Azriel just smirks slightly looking back to me, “I didn’t hit him or anything. I asked Rhys to go into his mind and put him to sleep for a while,” the moment ends then, the smile leaving his face, “I didn’t want him getting hurt too.”

He blames himself. I know he does. He always does, though I wish he wouldn’t, “It wasn’t your fault, Az,” I murmur, closing my eyes. I can feel him staring at my wings, which have already started to ease as the tonic sets in.

“If we had come to see you sooner, this wouldn’t have happened. Madja said there was nothing we could have done about the infection, even soon after they did it, but if I had been there a day earlier, then we could have stopped it from happening at all,” the words rush out of him angrily at first. He sounds like he’s speaking more to himself than me. Then his voice cracks on the last few words, and I open my eyes to see tears welling up in his eyes.

I look at him for a moment longer and say, “come lay with me,” a confused look crosses his face, “this wasn’t your fault Azriel, now please come hold me.” He didn’t miss a beat. Crossing to the other side of the bed, he laid down on the edge, gently maneuvering himself to only touch me where there was no chance of making contact with my wings. 

His right arm slithered under my head, resting his hand on the other side of my body. My right hand felt numb beneath my body, but I pulled it up to brush it with his. He grabbed my hand in his, and so I fell asleep, knowing I held both of my males close to me.

*

My dream started as a memory. It was the first time I had met my males; crouching next to the creak outside of camp, I sharpened a rusty old knife with a rock. I had been wishing I had a good knife, but that would be too risky to steal, and any protection was better than none. I didn’t hear the figure to my left, and when a branch snapped behind me, I knew I only heard it because that male wanted me to. 

Dropping the knife, I quickly stood, turning to greet the male. It had been Cassian. Jokingly he said, “You couldn't hurt a fly with that knife. You really need a lesson in weaponry, don’t you?”

I shouldn't have gotten angry, but I did anyway, “I know about weapons,” I snapped, “but not all of us are privileged enough to have pretty little knives like you,” That's when I became aware of the figure to the side. He laughed deeply, and I was sure he must be laughing at me. I would be punished severely for this.

My attention snapped back to the first male as he spoke, “I didn’t mean to offend you,” he said, “but you really shouldn’t use that dagger. I’ll get you a better one.”

“Here. She can have this one,” the other male spoke, pulling out a dagger. It is plain and silver with a simple, twisted image of shadows carved onto the surface, leading to the black hilt, “I’ve had it for ages but never really use it,” He detached a sheath from his belt and slipped the dagger in before handing it to me. I looked into his eyes a moment longer before turning away, blushing.

“What do you need a weapon for anyways?” Cassian asked.

I shrug slightly, “protection.”

“From?”

“Everyone,” I say, tucking the dagger under my skirts. I probably should keep it closer being alone with two males, but for whatever reason, I did not feel threatened by them. The memory faded away as another appeared. Only days after I had first met the two Illyrians, the high lord’s most trusted friends, and advisers, they appeared in my camp again. Not for business with the Camp leader, however. I felt them stalking me as I walked through the wood,  when I was carefully distanced from the camp, they showed themselves- Cassian with a grin spreading across his face, and Azriel with a carefully blank expression, but curious eyes nonetheless. That was when things began. When I started falling in love with them.

These meetings continued for months. We met inside a small cave just outside the camp. It was glamoured now from anyone's eyes but ours. My little safe haven. It had been where I was running when I realized they intended to clip my wings. I wasn’t fast enough, though. 

Now the dreams were turning, twisting into something more terrifying. Darkness rushed toward me as I fell into the next scene. I tried screaming and fighting as hands grabbed me in the dark, but I just kept falling. My whole body burned, and a shiver ran down my spine as I was thrown into the waking world.

*

The warm heat of a body pressed at my right ran through me as I blinked my eyes open. It was Azriel, I realized now. He brushed his fingers gently down my spine, soothing me, “It was just a bad dream,” he murmured against my hair, pressing a kiss to my head. 

On my other side, I felt Cassian squeeze my hand. He was awake now, holding my hand tightly as he laid his head closer to mine. Feeling them beside me was already enough to relieve my aches and ease my mind. “Do you wanna talk about it?” Cassian whispered between us, just loud enough for Azriel to hear. I shook my head in answer, closing my eyes tightly in an attempt to fall back asleep. 

I couldn’t, though. So I just lay there with my males on either side of me, trying to pretend we were still in that little cave, and nothing had gone wrong. I still had my wings. 

*

Days have passed now. Most of them were filled with me laying in bed with one or both of my males holding me. Other times though, they involved tears streaming down my face and screams tearing out of my throat. Cassian and Azriel were always there, rocking me through it and reminding me of what I still had, though it felt like I’d lost everything. 

Occasionally I’d wake to arguing. I heard the high lord scolding Azriel and Cassian about their actions after the first day, but he didn’t sound seriously angry. Mostly I heard the whispered arguments between Azriel and Cassian about me. My treatment, my pain, how best to help me. I hated that they were arguing. It happened less and less as I recovered, but I still hated it.

Neither male was here now though, it was a rare occurrence. I had told both males the other was staying with me and told him he should go eat. I needed the alone time, but I knew it wouldn’t last long. Rather than stay in bed, I stood on numb legs and hobbled over to the bath. It has been too long since I’ve bathed. How Cassian and Azriel managed to be near me without wanting to vomit at the stench was beyond me. 

Kneeling on the ground, I held my hand under the water as it rushed out. When the water was ready and smelling of lavender, I submerged myself to the waist. Slowly I let my wings touch the water as I lowered myself further. When I was finally in the water entirely, I relaxed and leaned my head back before slipping down lower to wet my hair. 

When I was still under the water, finally relaxed, I breathed out slowly. Everything was peaceful until a pair of large hands gripped my upper arms and pulled me from the water. My eyes shot open, and I fought the male until I noticed it was Azriel, “Stop!” I yelled at him, “What on earth are you doing?” I shouted. I shot a glance to Cassian, standing in the doorway. He looked upset, and Az was definitely angry.

“What are you doing?” he replied with a growl. I tried pulling my arms away from him. He loosened his grip, but only enough to no longer hurt. I still couldn’t get away.

“I was bathing,” I glared at him, “I didn’t realize that wasn’t allowed.”

“Bullshit,” he said

“Az…” Cassian spoke.

“You’re not allowed to kill yourself! I won’t let you,” Azriel shouted.

What, I thought, “I wasn’t trying to kill myself,” I say calmly, looking straight into his eyes, “I just wanted a bath.” Suddenly a wave of guilt hit me because I’d made them think that. Azriel must have believed me because he released my arms and took a step back.

I pulled my arms up to cross my chest and looked away from them. Cassian pulled Azriel out of the bathroom, but neither of them closed the door. I returned to the bath but was no longer relaxed. I decided to quickly clean up and return to bed. The room was nearly silent except for the short whispered argument between the males. When I stepped into the room to dress, they both studiously looked away from me and one another. I dressed quickly and laid in bed, falling asleep before either of them could try and talk to me. 

After weeks had passed, I was sitting and walking again. Most of the pain had gone, now only phantom pains and sore scars remained. I was barely able to move my wings, and Madja said with some physical therapy, I would regain much of the movement but never enough to fly again. 

Cassian sat with me now, massaging my back. Things had gotten better. I’ve tried imagining life without my wings, and as long as I remember that I’ll always have my batboys, things aren't so bad. “Do you wanna go for a fly,” Cassian whispered. 

“I can’t,” I said, tears welling up as I imagined I could.

Cassian pulled me up, “come on,” he said, pulling me by the wrist. He walked us up to the roof and stood behind me. Pulling my hips to him, he said, “stand on my feet.” I looked at him confused, “just do it.” So I did. I stood on his feet, and he wrapped his arms under mine and across my chest. “Try to keep your legs straight against mine,” he whispered against my ear, “if you need to hook your ankles around mine, do that.” Then we were taking off into the air, flying straight up. It wasn’t the same as flying myself, but it was relaxing nonetheless. We flew straight for the house of wind and hovered there for a moment. I was going to ask why we weren’t moving, but then Azriel walked out onto the balcony and shot toward us. 

We spent hours in the sky. We even developed signals so Cassian would fly however I wanted. Glide left or right. Sharp turns. Down, up, backflip, frontflip. I felt like a kid again as I tumbled through the sky with the two most important people in my life.

When finally we were too exhausted to continue, we landed at a restaurant in the city. Azriel went in first, apparently having made reservations. As I followed-Cassian's hand in mine-we were led across the room between tables until we reached a curtained wall in the back. The males both grinned at me as our host pulled back the curtain, revealing a beautiful candle-lit scene. A beautiful private area just for us.

The evening was perfect. We ate dinner and laughed and just enjoyed each other. The room reminded me of our cave: chilly, small, and with colorful pillows and blankets littering the floor. It didn’t take long after finishing our meals for the three of us to end up in the mess of fabric. I have no idea how long we laid there. They just held me whispering beautiful things into my ears and an occasional obscenity from Cassian. They always knew what I needed. 

My back was pressed to Cassian as he carefully wrapped his arms around me, avoiding my wings. I’m almost positive he’s asleep, and even in sleep, his grip is like iron. I couldn’t possibly move. Azriel, in front of me, combed the hair out of my face. “You’re gonna be okay, ya know,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to my forehead, “I know it doesn’t always feel like it, and you wanna give up sometimes, but you can’t. Please don’t ever leave us. We’re gonna be okay,” a tear slid down his cheek as he whispered these words to me.

“I promise,” I whispered back, pressing my forehead to his, “I promise.”

*

The next day I was released from the healers’ den, but it didn’t matter; Cassian and Azriel still never left my side. I didn’t mind, though. As soon as we left, they dragged me down endless streets of houses. I had no idea where we were going until I saw the large manor seated beside the Sidra, to our right. It must be the high lord and lady's house. We didn’t turn to it, though. Instead, I was led left, that’s when I noticed the smaller house, seated directly across from the manor. It was smaller, but not small. Beautiful ivy ran across the brick it was built of. It was supposed to look old but was certainly brand new. A short white fence ran along the yard. Cassian opened a little gate motioning for me to continue up the path. Inside, the house was stunning and appeared brand new. A curved staircase wrapped around behind us, and a chandelier hung from the high ceiling.

“What is this,” I asked quietly, not wanting my voice to echo.

“A house,” Cassian answered simply, “how about a tour?”

“Whose house?” I asked.

“Ours, of course,” Azriel replied. “We figured the house of wind was out of the question since you wouldn’t very easily be able to get in and out. And the beds in the River house are just big enough for two Illyrians. Not three.”

“So we bought this place. For the three of us,” Cassian finished, biting his lip nervously. 

“You bought me a house,” I asked incredulously.

“Us. We bought us a house,” Cassian replied.

This would take some getting used to. Them doting on me all the time; always near. It wouldn’t be difficult, I imagined.

“You can decorate it however you’d like,” Azriel spoke.

“Even if I want to paint all the walls pink and hang orange curtains from all the windows,” I smirked. He cringed slightly, and Cassian laughed, holding out his hand, offering the tour again.

[sweetbyte]

guilty 

bakumomo - rated m

chapter one | chapter 2 | ao3

chapter 3 

He’s never been more fucked in his life and he’s not even sure in what sense. Literally, figuratively or perhaps both.

Bakugou doesn’t realize that his hands have idly been tracing patterns on Yaoyorozu’s back until she sighs in contentment. She returns the gesture by running her hands along his sides in a soothing motion as best as she can from her position. She’s still draped over him from when she collapsed after she fucked herself limbless on his cock and he’s still debating if this is some fantasy he’ll be waking up from remembering how they landed on her bed.

It had started in the kitchen. He doesn’t remember who moved first but it ended up with him eating her out on the counter. They somehow migrated to her couch where he tried to give her an out trying to be a fucking gentleman for once instead of taking her against the wall. She rode his thigh until he felt her wetness seep through the dress pants he was still in from the night before all the while confirming very clearly that she was not opposed to the wall, not in the slightest.

So to the wall they went and he finally entered her, from behind no less. He fucked her so hard that she struggled to stay on her toes trying to meet his thrusts. Not even in battle did he feel such a desperate frenzy.

It slowed down when they made it to her bed. Be it the adrenaline rush coming to its end or the intimacy associated with the bedroom, he gave her a gentleness even he couldn’t explain. He let her take the wheel and sat back for the ride until she was practically begging him to come with her. And he did, clutching her thighs with such force he was certain they’d be bruised for days. Good. He saw nothing but blinding whiteness as his senses left him only coming to when she collapsed on top of him.

He’d let his mind wander, not used to dealing with the after math of having sex with a childhood…acquaintance? They weren’t friends, not really. She probably would call them friends. But everyone was her friend, everyone had wanted to be her friend. No, all of his sexual encounters had been to the point and over, no lingering, no cuddling. He’d always been clear when looking for a lay and yet here he was, basking in a post coital haze.

“You are thinking entirely too loudly, one would argue that is my role.” His hand freezes over her spine and he feels his mind start to overload trying to come up with the best course of action.

“Seriously, I’m starting to smell burning rubber. I think one fire scare is enough.” Yaoyorozu teases again, this time pinching his side causing him to scoff.

“There he is.” She snickers, pinching his other side. He answers with a snarled “Quit it!” Before he can stop, he smacks her ass in retaliation and his eyes widen momentarily at her reaction. Yaoyorozu let out something of a surprised yelp crossed with the many sounds of delight he’s committed to memory from just an hour or so prior. She makes an effort to hide her face but he can feel her heartbeat quickening from her position on top of him.

“I would have never pegged you to be this kinky, Yaoyorozu.”  He smirks as his hand soothes the cheek he struck feeling her breath catch by his neck. “Some would say its my role, being this insatiable.”

“I can’t say this is a norm for me.” Her response is breathless as he resumes gliding up and down her spine.

“Ah, so you don’t seduce men into your bed on a regular. Good to know.” Despite his teasing, some ridiculous part of him is relieved. Relieved she doesn’t do this often, that he’s not just a scratch on her bed post. The twisted irony, like he has the right to know her sexual history. She’s her own person, so is he.

“I don’t! This really was not my intention either.” She huffs and its unfair really, how she can look so innocent with his come still dripping from between her thighs. And maybe he does know her better than what he had originally thought. Maybe he did pay attention to her in school to know what she’s trying to say without speaking, what she’s trying to get him to ask.

“What was this?” What is this? Is it something? Is it nothing? What am I?

Her eyes meet his and there’s an intensity that he cannot explain. He understands why so many people fawn over her. He might have persuaded to jump off a cliff for her.  Might have…

“A chance.” She finally says after she’s done soul searching him as well. “A shot in the dark.”

“Did you make the shot?”

The corner of her lip twitches as she leans closer to him until she’s a breath away.

“You tell me.”

And suddenly he’s breathless, he doesn’t know what to say.. doesn’t know what to do. So his hand moves to the back of her head tangled in her hair to hold her in place as he slowly leans up to kiss her. This feels right. Her lips on his, her body pressed on his, her heartbeat against his. Her and him. He should really be concerned, its only been one day and he feels like a fucking addict.

Yaoyorozu mewls as she pulls away with that damned flushed look on her face, but it’s the brightness of her eyes that catches his attention this time.

“We should get cleaned up and maybe find something to eat.” She mutters as she looks at the clock on her night stand.

“Worked up an appetite , did you?” He snorts and she nips his throat and whispers “something like that” before pulling away and out of the bed completely.

“As long as we order out, I don’t trust you in the kitchen.” He retorts as he lounges on her bed enjoying the view of her puttering around her room naked as she gathers some clothes. It feels so domestic he wants to puke.

She pouts. “I’m not that bad.” “Whatever you say, sweetheart.”

“I am going to take a shower.” It comes out as a question. The question being ‘are you joining me?’. Only an absolute moron would say no.

He doesn’t miss the way her eyes track his movement tracing the lines of his body. “I’m going to need a change of clothes, somebody ruined my pants.”

She turns to avoid his smirk and begins to walk towards the bathroom while he trails behind her shamelessly staring at her backside. They don’t fool around in the shower, but its so intimate that it make him want to explode. He’s never been on the receiving end of someone so attentive. He has never let himself be.

She finds him something to wear as apparently she’s still somewhat of a mother hen and has had countless friends crash at her house under her care. He waits for some shitty feeling to pop out like jealousy, possessiveness or even resentment at the multiple people in her life but it doesn’t. She doesn’t owe him anything and yet she chose him.

They eat and fall asleep on the couch but it eventually gets late. He’s too proud to admit that he doesn’t want to leave. He doesn’t want the spell to be broken, the awkwardness to set in from the outside world.

He makes himself change back into his own clothes and lingers by the door after she scurries off to do something asking him to wait for her. The rolling in his gut has him considering running out the damn door. He’s not used to this shit.

But then she steps out dressed casually with a backpack on her shoulder with a brilliant smile on her face. “I’m ready.”

“What?”

She shakes her head at his confusion and takes his hand. “I was serious about taking my shot. You’ll tell me if I’m being too forward?”

Yaoyorozu bites her lip in nervousness as she studies his face waiting for him. To do something. To say anything.

“This shit is new to me.” He answers honestly but slowly intertwines their fingers together. ‘But I’ll try.’

She nods in understanding, a relieved look on her face as she squeezes her hand. “Let’s go.”

A/N: Better late than never. School and work threw me through a loop, but I was determined to finish this this month unlike my other pending fics. Poor things. Did change the rating, just in case. I don't understand the difference between M and Explicit yet. Hopefully it doesn’t seem too rushed. I like the idea of Bakugou struggling with the concept of feeling affection, or maybe I’m just projecting. Anywho, thank you for reading!

[insomniac-astronomer]

Romanogers: Trade Her Back | Ch. 2 - Steve’s Apartment

Hi there! Welcome or welcome back to this story! Since this is a part of a series, I would strongly advise you read chapter 1 here: trade-her-back-ch-1. Thank you so much for coming back to check out part 2!

Song for the chapter: “That Man” by Caro Emerald in true Peggy Carter fashion.

Enjoy!

~~~

The forties smell different. It's strange, but that's the first thing I notice. Like gasoline and smoke. Not at all what I had been expecting.

I couldn’t tell you where we are if I wanted to.

“Welcome to my old apartment.” Steve sends me one of his dorky smiles.

The building is made of brick. Six evenly-spaced weathered doors line the front of it. Steve leads me up a few concrete stairs to the end of the row of lower doors. He kicks a brick to the side revealing a key. Making quite the spectacle out of it, he unlocks the apartment and beckons me inside.

“Oh-” Steve’s voice trails off as we both stare at the wreck that is his old home. “I wouldn’t have been in here since I left for the war but that would have only been a few months ago.”

“Someone made themselves a doorway through the window,” I gesture to the smashed glass.

“Hold on.” Steve’s voice darkens as he pushes me behind him. Seriously? I shove past him and start examining the place, ready in case someone decides to attack us from around the corner.

After a few minutes of me going left and him going right, we determine that the trashed apartment is empty. Completely empty; not just of people, but of furniture and valuables as well. Whoever broke in might be on their way back here right now.

“Board up that window with something. Make sure that everywhere else is still secure. And why the hell did you think it was a good idea to leave your key under a brick?” I speed back to the front door, locking it tightly and testing it’s integrity a few times, just to make sure.

“Only Bucky knew I kept the key under there.” Steve says back as he picks up a piece of the broken couch to place on the window.

“It’s not that hard to find.” I mutter as I begin testing light switches. All of them seem to be working, as the lights are slowly warming up and I haven’t started an electrical fire yet.

A few moments of strange silence pass over us as we work on straightening up the place and testing some of the appliances. Unsurprisingly, everything seems to be in working order, there’s even a small carton of milk in the fridge.

Steve and I have always been a chatty pair. I don’t think I’ve ever realized that till now, when we haven’t spoken in at least twenty minutes. Superhero work is tough, but when you’re with your team, there’s a certain unspoken agreement not to mention any hardships unless we have to. Keep the mood light, you know? That’s maybe why this quiet feels unfamiliar to me.

“What do we do now?” I ask to break the silence.

Steve gives me a confused look, almost gesturing to the pile of rubble he was sorting through.

“I mean after we finish cleaning. You jumped us to the forties, did you have a plan in mind?” I try to make my tone sarcastic and teasing but given the solemn mood we’re both in, I don’t think it transfers.

“It’s Saturday.” Steve says quietly. I’ve never seen this man so deep in thought, even back when Wanda had put that nightmare in his mind.

Suddenly, I remember. “Your dance with Peggy.”

He nods.

I want to say something to comfort him. Yes, we went back in time for this but he deserves to be happy for once. Even if it’s just an artificial sort of forties-haze joy. Although, he’s already seen her at ninety years old. Hell, he went to her funeral, saw her body.

Oh, that’s messed up. He said at eight right?

“You’d better get ready Prince Charming, the sun’s starting to set.” I smirk. “Don’t want to show up looking like you just made out with her niece or anything.”

Steve sends me a glare, though I finally see a small smile fight it’s way onto his face. “You know what Romanoff --”

“What? I didn’t say a bad language word.” My snarky facial expression turns into a grin.

“Just for that, you’d better have this whole place cleaned by the time I get back.” He says, standing and brushing some brick dust off his pants.

I roll my eyes. “Please, I’ll leave you some of the fun.”

~~~

Steve left a few minutes ago. He told me not to leave the apartment because, well, can you imagine what would happen if I walked down a street in the 1940s wearing a skin-tight suit? But besides that, he’s right. Life was different back . . . now, and I would probably behave like an alien to them.

The kitchen and living room have now been swept out and all the bits of rubble removed. Steve was able to salvage the couch cushions and set them up like a children’s fort-style floor couch. Since everything in the kitchen was mostly in working order, that looks almost normal. If you don’t count the fact that there is no table or chairs.

There is no TV, just a small radio to entertain me. Fantastic.

Although, I did just come back from the dead so maybe it would be alright for me to rest my neck for a minute or two. I lay down on the floor couch. Just a couple minutes and then I’ll keep cleaning. Steve should be --

I don’t know where I am. A strange orange material seems to be covering my eyes. I reach my hands up to remove it, only to find that the material is surrounding me. It’s like I’m walking through an orange snow globe if all of the snow had transformed into a million complicated crystalized patterns.

What is happening? And why does it feel like I’m walking through quicksand?

Before any of my questions are answered, the orange world flashes brightly, and there is only darkness.

~~~

I can’t believe Tumblr formatted this all for me. I wrote it on a Doc with indents and everything, this is fantastic. Anywho, sorry this took so long to write out, it’s about three letter-sized pages in length so. Let me know if I got the characters right or otherwise, I’m very open to constructive criticism.

Quick question: I’m plopping my masterlist into my bio for now, but does anyone know how to get it on the dashboard of options? Like where the asks and archive buttons are. Thanks :)

I have also now actually opened my asks so if you have something specific you would like me write, jump in and send me something. Check my bio for fandoms and masterlist for the post with guidelines if you would like to submit something!

One last thing, I’m going to attempt to make this story somewhat interactive with the lovely romanogers community reading it. Go follow my instagram _lenamarieanne to answer polls and other things that will affect not only chapter lengths but possible characters and story events!

Thank you so much for reading! Much happiness and sunshine to you! ~Lena Marie Anne

P.S. Feel free to drop a like, leave a comment, or do a re-blog. I will respond to any comments!

[hczcls]

hello hello hello !! it’s been a minute since i was in a group setting so forgive me for any mishaps, i am but a lost soul. anywho under the cut is a bit about my child lottie, she’s a mess and a thousand but love her anyways! hmu if you would like to plot or have any wanted connections you can see this child fitting in!

tw:  alcoholism, drug addiction, death, grief, overdose, child neglect, child abuse, underage sex, porn.

APP.

( dove cameron, cisfemale ) - Have you seen CHARLOTTE HALE? LOTTIE is in HER JUNIOR YEAR OF STUDY year. The JOURNALISM MAJOR is/are 23 years old & is a SCORPIO . People say SHE is/are CHARISMATIC, INDEPENDENT, AGGRESSIVE and CRUEL. Rumors say they’re a member of CALLOWAY. I heard from the gossip blog that HAS A ONLYFANS.  (mon. 25. est. she/her.)

AESTHETICS.

the last breath during a chilly night out, champagne flutes and forgotten cigarettes on bar counters. melodic laughter of a child unhinged,  fur coats and ripped fishnet stockings, warm hands on cold bodies, spinning until your ears ring and your stomach curdles, the 3 AM headache from a long night out. the screeching sound of the electric guitar, broken glass scattered across an unkempt home, the hollowness of loneliness, blasting music echoing through empty halls, sandy hallways and discarded clothes, screened phone calls and short voicemails, stacks of medical bills and scattered chips of redemption.

- here’s her board!!

SYNOPSIS.

In short, Lottie Haze fits into the cliché realm of a spoiled rich socialite. Growing up the daughter of a famous rockstar did nothing for her humbleness, being the heiress of a family fortune made before her father in the fashion of famous Las Vegas casinos, Lottie was doomed to a life of narcissism and selfishness from the start. Her life is a blur before coming to Yates, she doesn’t delve much into her past and doesn’t stand for the curios pokes and prods from her fellow peers after they watch all the documentaries about her past. Drug abuse, life on the road, the death of her mother, her own overdose at such a young age before being plucked out of her father’s arms. Lottie doesn’t think about it, doesn’t speak about it, but it’s all there, edited from time to time on Wikipedia. Famous for being nothing but the child of the rich, Lottie’s a lot more than meets the eye, but at paper-thin, she’ll allow most to think she’s the typical Instagram influencer, rich, pretty girl plagued with basicness and ignorance.

HISTORY.

Charlotte Haze’s parents weren’t good for each other. It wasn’t a healthy relationship; it wasn’t made from start dust and fairytales. It was a match made in hell, two selfish souls uniting in a mix of tequila and heroin in the back of the Stillborns’ tour bus. Ricky Danger was her father, a name coined from the mind of a self-indulging teenager with too much time on his hand and brain clouded with too many pills. When Jeanette Haze, daughter of a multibillionaire hotel and casino owner, told him the news of their child he was excited, not thinking of the dangers and responsibilities that came along with a child born of wedlock and on the road. Charlotte couldn’t remember a time in her childhood when things were normal, nothing was the cookie-cutter dream house that most children fantasize about, they had no real home, she had no real toys, no friends her age, everything was clouded with smoke and glamour, money and gifts sent to her by her grandparents who couldn’t gain control of their wild daughter and her idiot of a boyfriend  who was too busy dragging their toddler all over the world with them.

Her mother died of heart failure when she was eight, something that happened so fast that she barely had time to register what it was. There were two funerals, the respectable one full of family members she’d never met who touched her blonde curls, cradled her chubby cheeks, told her how much she looked like her mother and the one thrown by her father. Where men all spoke highly of her departed mother, where alcohol was passed around, stories were told, and the friends she grew up with made her smile and laugh, instead of feeling lost and alone. Lottie was too young to know what was going on behind closed doors, too sheltered from her grandparents to know that they were doing everything in their power to take her away from her father, who simply brushed the death of her mother off his shoulders, and carried on in life, numbed by booze and drugs. This lifestyle wasn’t something a child should grow up in, an idiot knew that, but Ricky didn’t see a problem with it, he didn’t see how damaging it was, he didn’t care, and once he thought Lottie was old enough, he shared it with her.

Charlotte was 11 the first time she got drunk, 12 the first the time she smoked weed, 13 the first time she had sex, and fourteen when she first got addicted to cocaine. The list grew as she did, the perfect little star on the road, the daughter of the world’s ‘best’ guitarist, the lead singer of The Stillborns. He was so proud of his girl, he loved her more than anything, and she lived to make him proud. She could remember the concerned looks from tutors on the road, her father hiring them to make sure he could keep Lottie at his side, having her learn from the strangers when she could, paying them off not to speak about the things his daughter was involved in, and everyone turned their head, said nothing. Charlotte didn’t know any better, the life she lived was all she knew, all she loved. Sex, drugs, and rock & roll, just like her mother, she was truly the perfect girl, just like her father had wanted her to be.

That all changed when she was seventeen. when one night her father must have misjudged the dose he helped her shoot into her veins. Ricky had had his fair share of overdoses, his own, his buddies, even the one that put his wife into cardiac arrest and took her from him. Though when his daughter started to convulse, he couldn’t bring himself to do much of anything but push her onto her side and dial 911. He left her in the dutiful hands of his band manager and a family friend before he left her alone to wake up in the hospital with no clue what had happened, no idea where her he was, and an onslaught of CPS agents, police, and paparazzi.

It was all that was needed for her grandparents to finally get custody of Charlotte, proof of her father’s neglect, proof of his horrible influence of the young girl. Lottie waited for him, waited for him to show up at the hospital, show up at court, show up to fight for her, but he never did. He never called, he never wrote, and when Charlotte was moving in with her grandparents in their little ranch in Las Vegas after spending months in a rehabilitation center, she still heard nothing from her father. The tides changed then, Charlotte realized she couldn’t go on living the way she had, the way her mother had, so rather than wait until the day she was eighteen to go back to her old life, she made a new one, or at least she tried to. It was a twisted Cinderella story, at least that’s how the news showed it. The once tragic life of a child of rock & roll turned into the sugary sweet life of a beautiful Instagram star, Charlotte Haze coined a new life for herself, with the watchful and worried eye of her grandmother.

PRESENT.

College seemed like something that would be good. A set routine, a new chance at life, a way to start over…  sure she didn’t do the best at school on the road but was that her fault or the environments. It would be something normal, a true school environment she never got to experience.  Vermont was far, but with some tears and lots of convincing, she was able to get them to agree to let her leave. , and they made sure to give her everything she needed to get on well, with a few standards she had to meet at least. Music would always be apart of Charlotte’s life, even if her father wasn’t, so she figured journalism would be good for her, getting to explore the lives of all the musicians and artists but while also keeping a safe distance from the true lives some lived on the road, not wanting to break her vow to herself, to avoid any and all triggers to her past.

She’s been sober for a while, though the bumps of life have given her a few setbacks, relapsing is part of the process, after all, at least that’s what she told herself each time she embarrassingly returned to her NA meetings or faced the disappointed look of her grandmother who controlled her allowances, basing how much money she fed to the spoiled girl by how stable her life seemed to be at the time. Lottie was going to live her life for herself, she did what she wanted, how she wanted it, though she put on her best appearances for her grandmother, after all, it wasn’t like she was actually going to get a job to support herself, not when she had all the money she could ever ask for in her namesake alone.

SECRET.

Lottie is used to having things handed to her, she’s used to being able to spend her money frivolously, with no care or worry of consequence. But when her grandparents cut her off and the cash flow stops coming in, there’s not much for her to do to keep her materialistic life up. Sure she could get a job on campus, work at a book store, the coffee shop, the record store… but Lottie doesn’t like to work… and she has little patience for tedious things… and so her genius idea was to make money off doing the one thing she never got bored of, sex. Lottie has a secret camgirl/porn account that she earns extra cash from, it’s not something she’s ashamed of at all, but she doesn’t want it getting out on account of her old money grandparents and her widely known father, the last thing she wants to be is a cliche, even if she’s happily living as one.

TLDR.

So basically, Lottie’s got a tricky background, she’s rich af, spoiled af, bitchy af, and kind of just does what she wants whenever she wants. She’s up and down with her sobriety, views everything pretty cockeyed, considering she doesn’t want to trigger herself into using again, but will down a bottle of Grey Goose with little consideration of the consequences. She’s got a lot to hide still, gets her inheritance from her grandparents and that can be easily toyed with, considering they view her life with a magnifying glass. Connection wise she’s open to anything, hookups, passed hookups, ex’s, FWBs, frenemies, best friends, she’s bi and ready to cry so please, love her.

[kayteewritessteve]

If Only You Knew - Epilogue

Description: You arrive home one day to find a wedding invite for two of your best friends from high school. You knew this day was going to come eventually, but even with that said, you weren’t prepared to return home. At least not after 7 years of avoiding Buckhannon, West Virginia. Or rather, avoiding him; your ex-best friend and the secret love of your life. But maybe it was finally time to face your past, to face him, and everything else that happened on that horrible night. Who would have knew that your prom would end up being a total disaster, and the very last night you’d spend in Buckhannon for the next 7 years? you certainly didn’t. That’s for sure.

Catch up HERE.

Word Count: 9,200 ish. Sheesh, this is a ‘giant’ one! See what I did there ;) Sorry, not sorry!

Pairing: Modern!Steve Rogers x Reader.

Rating: 18+

Warnings: Violence. Drinking. Bad and offensive jokes. Possible triggering thoughts, feelings and emotions. Moments of bullying and harsh name calling. Lots of curse words. And a very sloooow burn.

A/N: I sadly don’t own any of these characters. And no beta reader, so I do proudly own all the errors and this story, so there’s that.

Well, here it is!!!! The final part to the If Only You Knew series. And this is so bittersweet, I am so glad to finally give this story an end, but i’m also going to miss this lovable gang of friends and this story in general. But I have a few other AU’s in store for you all, so stay tuned for those. And that’s about it. I hope you all love this epilogue and I can’t wait to hear what you all think about this ending. Also, I want to note that this chapter might be a little confusing to follow, so play close attention to the timestamp years, they will help you. Anywho, ENJOY!! ♥️

The sun filtering in through the sheer hotel room curtains, along with the incessant ringing of your phone’s alarm, both wake you from your peaceful, be it short, slumber. You quickly reach over to silence the alarm and then are just about to groan, but halt the action when you remember exactly what day it is. It’s wedding day!!!

You stretch from your place still sheltered under the soft duvet and then flip it off you to sit up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes as you do. You blink the haze away for a moment then stand and wander over to the closet to retrieve your customized silk robe, putting it on over your pj shorts and tank top. And then head to the bathroom to brush your teeth.

You hear your hotel room door flung open, followed by a shrieked, “get up!! It’s wedding day!!” that could only come from one person, Nat. Followed by a whispered, “where the fuck is she?!” clearly from Hilde.

You poke your head out of the bathroom, toothbrush hanging from your mouth, to mumble happily around it, “right the fuck here.” Then you slip back into the bathroom to finish brushing, not missing Nat whining, “hurry up!” as you do.

You chuckle, totally understanding her current excitement level. Today was going to be a big day for all of you. And you’re not gonna lie, you’re just as excited as she is, if not more.

This day has been so many years in the making, and your whole group of friends were ridiculously excited for it. To say the least.

You finally enter back into the bedroom, then you all head down to the party room in the hotel, the one that was rented specifically for you ladies to get ready in.

You walk into the room to see a bar counter covered in mimosas, coffee, tea and an assortment of fruits, treats and breakfast foods. Which of course you instantly make your way to, receiving a snort from Wanda as you do. “You would go straight to the coffee.”

“I’ll have you know, I was far too excited to sleep. So coffee will be the only thing keeping me up right today. Well, that and sheer excitement,” you smirk and quickly make a cup, taking a few large sips then hum, happily.

There is a knock at the door and Hilde goes to check it, finding the hair stylist and makeup artist standing in the hall. They both come in and start to set up their stations as you continue to just happily drink your coffee in silence. Nat, Hilde, Wanda and Rebecca all join you and proceed to make up plates of food, and drinks, alongside you.

And then there is another knock on the door, this time Rebecca answers it and it’s the photographers. She invites them in and they quickly exchange a few words with Nat and then begin to take pictures of the room, the dresses and all of you standing around enjoying the morning. Clearly documenting all the little parts of this wedding, starting with you ladies getting ready for it.

After a few minutes the makeup artist informs you that they are ready to start, and Nat goes for hair first, while Rebecca goes for makeup. Leaving Hilde, Wanda and yourself to eat, chat and wait for your turns.

“Have you both decided how you want your hair done?” You ask them as they sip their mimosas.

“Fully down, all curled,” Hilde answers.

“And I was thinking curled as well, but half up, half down,” Wanda says then looks at you, “what’s your plan?”

“Ah,” you hum for a moment, thinking, “I think I’ll do a full up-do.” You shrug, “maybe have a few pieces hanging down.”

“I like it,” Hilde nods.

“Sounds beautiful,” Wanda adds with a smile, and then the photographer walks up towards you three, snapping photos of you all just chatting, before he ventures off to take a few pictures of the other ladies having their makeup and hair done.

“I feel like a celebrity, with this photographer running around snapping shots,” Hilde laughs.

“Same,” you and Wanda say at the same time and then both giggle before taking another sip of each of your beverages.

As the morning progresses on, all of you ladies get your hair and makeup done, then help each other into your dresses. When there is only about 10 minutes to go before the wedding actually starts there is another knock on the door. Wanda goes to see who it is and finds Winnie holding James Jr—who looks freaking adorable in his little ring bearer suit—and your dad. Who looks so handsome all dressed up in his black suit and tie. Winnie puts James down and he runs towards Rebecca, instantly.

“Well don’t you just look so handsome in your suit,” she coos at him and he giggles as she picks him up. You can’t help the giant smile on your face as you watch how her and James interact. You are so proud of the mom she has become, and James is one lucky kid.

“Do I look so handsome in my suit?” your dad asks and wiggles his eyebrows at you.

You chuckle at this ridiculous man, “yeah, but not as handsome as James.”

He pouts for a second then kisses your cheek, “you ladies all ready to go?”

You nod, “yep, I believe we are all set.”

You all grab the last few things then head out of the room to go get into position next to the closed chapel doors. Making sure that none of you will be seen until it’s your turn to walk, and that everyone knows their places. Then you all just wait for the wedding march song to start.

When you finally hear it playing through the doors, Winnie opens them and ushers Rebecca to go first. Then Hilde. Then Wanda. Then Nat. And then finally she takes James’ hand and the hand of the flower girl, your Aunt Carol’s daughter, Lashana, and wishes you luck before they begin their walk down the aisle, towards their seats at the front.

You take a deep breath, this is it. This is the moment you marry the love of your life and you couldn’t be happier.

You feel your dad take your hand and give it a reassuring squeeze, which causes you to look up at him. “You look stunning,” he smiles, “and you got this, you’ll do great.”

You can feel the tears slowly forming in your eyes as you nod to his words, and whisper, “thank you, daddy,” as you attempt to blink away the happy tears.

You were about to marry the man you’d loved for 11 years. The man you’d swear, up and down, was made entirely for you. The last 2 years hadn’t been easy, but you wouldn’t have traded them, or him, for anything. You’re mind starts to flash back to a few different memories from the last 2 years, the main ones that all led up to this exact moment. Your wedding day.

July 2018 - 2 years ago.

You were standing next to the dessert table at Nat and Bucky’s wedding reception. It had been a beautiful day all around. And you were so happy for your two best friends.

The bachelor/bachelorette party had done a complete 180 after your talk with Steve, and ended up being an amazing night for all of you. You’d gone home with Steve that night, but not for the reasons most would think. You’d both had a lot to drink and knew you couldn’t make proper choices that night. Nor did you want your first time together to be like that.

It was just that, at the end of the night out, neither of you were ready to part ways, not after years of being apart and finally voicing how you both felt. So you went home with him and you both just laid on his bed talking till the wee hours of the morning.

Going over everything, all the moments you both thought something was there but ignored. Turns out, there actually was always something there for both of you. Especially that first day at the lake, where you almost kissed him. You learned he wasn’t upset because you almost kissed him that day, no, he was upset because you hadn’t. And the moment on the field, the day he beat up Johann, as you’d just learned that night, he had almost kissed you that day.

You both spent most of that night with wide eyes and murmurs of ‘idiots’. Because that’s what you’d both felt like after learning all the truths. You’d also learned that those anonymous roses on your porch, from that first Valentine’s Day in town, yeah, those were from him. And that he’d also bought 17 roses–one for each month you’d known each other, the cornball—originally through the school but Madeleine had deleted the order. It was insane how much you were oblivious to back then, but it was all out there now.

You both finally passed out around 8am, and slept most of the day away. But when you woke up, Steve wasn’t beside you anymore. You looked to where he had been when you’d passed out and saw 14 roses on his pillow, along with a note that read, ‘1 for every Valentine’s Day I missed, plus every birthday. I’ll be downstairs making breakfast when you wake up. Come find me.’ With a smiley face drawing below the words.

You jumped out of bed, looking down to instantly remember that he’d lent you a t-shirt and sweatpants to sleep in. It wasn’t an overly cute look, as the pants barely stayed up and the bottoms covered your entire feet. Fucking giant. You giggled then decided to forgo the pants entirely. And ventured down to the kitchen in just his shirt. Hoping it would make him sweat, just a little—and oh boy, had it ever. Except, a lot more than ‘just a little’.

You both ended up spending the whole night together, going to your house to grab some clothes and then passing out early, once again together in Steve’s bed. And when the alarms began to go off the next morning, you both begrudgingly pulled yourselves out of bed. Got dressed, shared a heated kiss that neither of you wanted to end, and then went your separate ways to get ready for the wedding. Hilde and Wanda scooped you from Steve’s place, instantly demanding details. Which you happily gave them, needing to just gush about the last 24 hours.

So now, here you were, loading up a plate of desserts at Nat and Bucky’s wedding, because let’s be honest, you were a sucker for treats, when a voice behind you sends a chill down your spin. “I hear you both finally voiced your feelings.”

You cringed and slowly glanced over your shoulder to see Madi standing a few feet behind you. “That’s not really any of your business, Madeleine,” you replied, coldly.

She took a few steps towards you, now standing directly behind you, so you sighed deeply, not really in the mood for her shit right now. Or ever, really. But especially not today. Then you turned to face her, and just as you did she spoke again.

“You don’t deserve him,” she whispered harshly, “you aren’t good enough for him.”

And normally her words would have hurt you, but at this point in your life, you could honestly care less what she thought of you. You’d finally gotten the one man you’d always wanted, and nothing, or more specifically, noone, could ruin this for you. You were on cloud 9 and refused to ever come back down. “Well you see, you may think that, but Steve doesn’t, and more importantly, I don’t.” You shrug, “so, say whatever you’d like. But your opinions on this don’t matter. We are both happy, and nothing you can say or do will change that this time. So honestly, fuck off back to your miserable little life and stay the hell away from us.” You smile, smugly and go to turn back to your mission at hand. Getting more of those delicious treats on your plate.

“You bitch,” she hisses and grabs your arm to stop you from turning away from her, “you think I was mean to you in school, oh, just you fucking wait. Once I marry Tony, I’ll be around Steve for the rest of our lives. And so long as you’re there, I’ll make sure to do everything in my power to mess this all up for you. You don’t get the happily ever after with the man I love. I won’t let you. I’ll happily break you both up and then show him he should have picked me.”

“Wow,” you said slowly, the true evil that is Madeleine fucking Karlington finally showing through to you. I mean, you always knew she was a horrible person, but you never realized it was to this extent. “What about Tony? And how exactly will you ‘show Steve he should have picked you’ if you’re married to his brother?” You ask, honestly just curious how she plans to play this all out. And just like the true evil genius she is, she spills her whole master plan to you, thinking she had the upper hand here.

“I know you’re only asking because you think you can run to Tony and tell him all of this. But he won’t believe you. Just like he didn’t believe Steve. So I’ll tell you, just so you know exactly how I’ll be taking Steve back from you.” She smirks, “I plan to leave Tony once I win Steve back. I’ll start by claiming Tony is abusing me after a little while of marriage and that’s why I don’t love him anymore, and want out. And Steve will spring to my defence and then I’ll work my magic on him. And the rest will just fall into place,” she shrugged and you honestly wanted to throw up at how nasty and vile this woman is.

But as you were about to make your rebuttal, a form shifted behind you and you glanced over Madeleines shoulder to see Steve standing there with a disgusted expression on his face. But that wasn’t the form you’d seen shift. No, the one you saw move was Tony, his upper arm gripped tightly by Steve, as if he’d just dragged his older brother over here, kicking and screaming. You figured he had.

You weren’t entirely sure how long they’d been there. Or just how much they’d heard. But the hurt and angry expression on Tony’s face made you believe they’d witness damn near the whole thing. You’re eyes shifted from Tony’s form to Steve, locking on his eyes for a moment before you flicked them back to Madeleine.

“That sounds like a wonderful plan, Madi, however,” you pause and go to step around her, “I don’t think it’s going to play out exactly how you were imagining it would.” Then you walked passed her and she turned to probably say something back to you, but froze when she saw you stand next to Steve. Who released his brothers arm and patted him on the shoulder, apologetically.

Then he took your hand and led you away, but you didn’t miss Madeleine going to speak and Tony cutting her off with a harsh, “don’t bother. We’re done.” Then he stormed off, with Madi hot on his heels, begging him to listen. But he didn’t. He ended his engagement with her that night, and cancelled the wedding the following day.

And as far as you know, Madeleine stayed single for a while, living with her mother but then shortly after Steve proposed you heard from Rebecca that Madi had up and moved away to LA. Where she still lived to this day. Most likely still miserable and alone. But you honestly could care less how she felt. You were just glad you didn’t have to see her ever again.

August 2018 - 2 years ago.

You spent the 2 weeks following Bucky and Nat’s wedding with Steve. You both were damn near inseparable, and you’d basically lived at his house during that time. But as time ticked on, you realized you had some big decisions to make.

Steve had been a sweetheart, as always, and hadn’t brought any of the big topics up. But you could tell they were weighing on him. Just as they were on you. Him being the amazing man he was though, he just left it alone, allowing you to think and figure out exactly how you wanted to play this out. Letting you come to a conclusion entirely on your own. However, this really wasn’t just about what you wanted anymore. What he wanted had to play a part in all of this.

So one night, you sat him down and decided to break the little bubble you’d both been happily living in over the last two weeks. Hoping the outcome of this talk would be what you both wanted.

“So, I think we really need to figure out what to do about Boston,” you started, hesitantly.

He nodded, “yeah. I think you’re right.” He paused, and frowned for a moment, but then quickly corrected it, “what do you want to do about it?”

“I’ve thought a lot about it over the last few weeks and I think I may have figured out a game plan,” you said softly, “I’ll need to return to Boston for a bit, to work everything out on that end though.”

He looked down at his hands in his lap and nodded slowly, waiting for you to continue. You started to believe that maybe he thought you’d be leaving for a while and that maybe you wouldn’t be able to come back right away. But ooooh, how wrong he was. “But I’d like you to come with me, as it will be a lot easier to pack and move with your help,” you shrugged, though he probably missed it.

His eyes instantly snapped up to meet yours and his eyebrows tried to high five his hairline—And by ‘tried’ you mean they successfully did. “Wait, what?”

You giggled at the cute, dazed look on his face then continued on, “I, ah, sort of emailed my resignation to my boss a few days ago, and got her confirmation back that same day. I, then, sent my resume to Shield High and they just emailed me yesterday to say they were very excited to see my resume come in, and that they wanted to set up an interview. Which is in 3 days.”

“Holy fuck,” he whispered slowly, clearly now piecing it all together in his head, “are you serious?” He asked breathlessly.

You smiled and nodded, quickly. So excited to hear what he thought of all of this. “I am.”

He shot up off the couch and pulled you up with him. Wrapping you in a giant bear hug, and after a few seconds you realized you were vibrating slightly, and it dawned on you just how excited he was. He was literally bouncing. “Oh shit,” he whispered, happily, “this is the best thing I have heard in weeks!” He kissed the top of your head, then froze, “wait, where are you going to live?!”

“I already talked to my dad, and if I get the job at Shield High, I’ll be moving in with him at first, while I get settled in and then I’ll look for a place later on.”

“You could live with me?” He said quietly into your hair and your smile grew even bigger.

You pulled back to look up at him, seeing the hesitant but overjoyed look in his eyes, “although I’d love that, so so much. I think we really need to do this right. I do want to move in with you, one day, but just not this soon. I want the cute moments where you pick me up from my house for a date. Or where I get to sleep at your house after the odd one, and it’s new and exciting because it isn’t my home.” You take his hand and squeeze it, “if all of this goes how we want it to, we will have many, many years of living together, but they will be when we are both ready. And not just because I don’t really have a place to live,” you giggled and he smiled down at you.

“I totally get it. And I want those cute moments too.” He smirked, “so, speaking of dates, when are you free next.” Then he winked in an overly exaggerated manner at you, and it took everything in you to not laugh and call him a cheeseball. Because honestly, you wouldn’t have him any other way. He is perfect just the way he is. One giant, soft, cheeseball.

“For you? I’m always free,” you jokingly wink back and then you both break out into a fit of happy laughter.

September 2018 - 2 years ago.

“Is that the last of it?” Steve asked as he stood in your, now empty, Boston apartment holding a big box labelled ‘bathroom’ on the side in sharpie.

“I think so,” you said softly as you stood in the middle of your empty living room. You slowly did a 360, taking in just how different this place looked, without all your belongings in it. “I just have that little box on the counter then we can go drop off the keys.”

He smiled and nodded, “okay, I’ll meet you at the van.” Then he walked out the door and left you to be alone. You assumed it was so you could say goodbye to the place you called home for the last few years.

You did a final walk around the apartment, that moment being bittersweet, you were going to miss this little shitty apartment, but you were also so excited for what the future held for you. And Steve. “Thanks for all the good years,” you said softly as you rubbed a hand along the kitchen counter then picked up the last little box.

You’d gone for your interview at Shield High, and they’d damn near hired you on the spot. Well, they’d actually called to officially offer you the job the following day, but same thing. So you and Steve booked his time off, 2 weeks, and then two plane tickets so you could both come up to Boston to collect all your things.

You gave your notice to your apartment manager, who was sad to see you go, but excited for you. You paid the final months rent and then spent a few days showing Steve your favourite parts of Boston. Before the rest of the two weeks was spent packing and cleaning.

You rented a moving truck and were both going to drive back to Buckhannon together in it, along with all your possessions.

You’d done the final walk through with your building manager that morning, and then there you were. Standing for the final time in your little kitchen holding the final box.

“I hope the next tenant loves you just as much as I did,” you whispered then headed out the door, putting the box down to lock up for the final time and then picked up the box and went to hand in your keys.

The ride back was a lot of fun, you and Steve stopped along the way to enjoy the sights, and spent 1 night in a little motel as the 11 hour drive was a little too much to do all at once, especially after many days of packing and cleaning.

When you finally reached home, you unpacked all your belongings into a corner of your dad’s garage. Well, minus your bedroom and bathroom things, those you brought up to your room and unpacked. You figured it would be smarter just to leave everything packed away until you either found your own place or moved in with Steve. Whichever came first.

You got yourself all settled in just in time for the school year to start, and the very first day of class you knew, instantly, that this was the job for you. You loved every student equally, and couldn’t wait for all the fun things you had planned for them, for throughout the upcoming school year.

July 2019 - 1 year ago.

You and Steve had been together for a year now, and so, for your 1 year anniversary, he had this elaborate plan that you weren’t allowed to know a fucking thing about. No matter how much you begged him, or tried to blackmail your friends—once you learned they were all in on it. But none of them would give you anything, and the only person you may have been able to crack—Sam—was nowhere to be found.

And the odd time when you did track him down. He. Was. Never. Alone. Either Hilde would be with him, or Wanda. OR, in some cases, Bucky. All those turds knew Sam was the weak link and they refused to let you break him down. Traitors. So you gave up, finally, and just waited for the special day.

Wanda had brought you a dress the night before, with a note attached to it that read, ‘A beautiful dress for a beautiful woman, I’ll be here to pick you up at 10am. So be ready. No sleeping in!’ You’d laughed. Like your excitement would even allow you to sleep that night, let alone sleep in.

So at 9:45am you stood on your front porch, ready and waiting. And when he showed up at 9:50am, slightly early, you weren’t surprised in the least, he was always early. This was actually late for him, if you were being honest.

He got out of the truck, to come get you. Telling you how stunning you looked in the dress, which fit like a glove, you figured you’d have to thank Wanda for that one. Then he offered you his hand, walked you to the truck, and opened the door for you. You tried to pry any details out of him once he got in the driver’s seat, but all he told you was, “you’ll have to wait and see.” The smirk on his face only made you want to know more.

The first stop confused you, it was your work, or rather, Shield High. You went to ask, but all he did was shake his head as he got out of the truck, he opened your door and led you inside. How he got keys for the school on a Saturday, you had no clue. But you just went along with it.

He led you to a place in the hall and then stopped. You looked around and realized it was the place you’d originally bumped into him that first day of school, all those years ago. And you INSTANTLY knew where this anniversary date was going, but you kept that to yourself and just played along. Not wanting to ruin a single moment of this day for yourself, or more importantly, him. Since he had clearly planned this out way more then you’d originally thought.

“This, was the exact spot where we first met,” he started as he turned to look down at you, and you had to force yourself to not grin like an idiot, or cry—Shit, that was a very real thing that might happen right now if you didn’t put solid effort into keeping your tears at bay. This was only the first stop, you can’t cry yet.

“I thought you were absolutely stunning, instantly, and something in me that day knew you’d play some huge role in my life, I just never could have fathomed how true that feeling would end up being. Or just how important you’d end up becoming to me. Nor was I aware that day, just how desperate I was for someone like you in my life. All I knew then was that I had to know you; the mystery new girl who hinted that she was used to going unseen, called me cute and then looked adorable with a giant goose egg on her head,” he paused. “Which I still feel horrible about, by the way,” he added then chuckled as his fingers lightly rubbed the spot on your head where the goose egg had been, all those years ago. You laughed at that, and it was a watery laugh from the tears that wanted to escape, but you hoped he hadn’t noticed.

“It was a hell of a meet cute, though,” you said with a smile.

“Truer words have never been said,” he smiled back. “Okay, on to the next place.” He offered you his hand and you happily took it. He then led you out onto the field and stopped in a place you knew all too well. “This is where I finally got to actually talk to you, sort of. I was super awkward when we first joined you ladies that day, but only because I was so nervous, and unsure as to what to even say to you. You looked so interested in your book and I didn’t want to bother you. But when you got up and left the group abruptly, I realized I may have made you upset and couldn’t let you stay that way.” He pointed towards the school, “so I chased after you, without so much as a word to our friends, and basically forced you to let me walk you to your locker.” He turned back to look at you, “it was the best choice I’ve ever made.”

“I’m also glad you made that decision, that day.”

He smirked at you, “because you had no clue where you were going?”

You burst out laughing, then lightly swatted his arm, “rude! I totally knew where I was going!”

“I call bullshit,” he laughed, “but that day I realized that I’d happy lead you anywhere you needed to go. So long as you needed me to, and kept smiling, that beautiful smile, at me.”

That, of course, made you smile. Shocker.

“Yes, that one,” he said as he pointed at your lips, “that’s my favourite one.” Then he leaned down and kissed you softly. But the kiss ended far too quickly for your liking, as he took your hand and led you towards the student parking lot. Where his truck was currently parked. But before you even reached the truck, he stopped again.

“And this spot,” he turned to you again, “was the first place I ever had the overwhelming want to kiss you. It wasn’t the only spot, but it was the first. And that probably had to do with you saying I was,” he paused and smirked again, “‘fucking built’ if I remember correctly?”

“Oh god, you heard that?” You cringed at just how awkward you were that day.

“Oh yeah,” he pulled you flush against him, gently, “I heard it,” he whispered as he leaned down to kiss you again, before pulling back to hum, “aah, that’s better. That’s how that moment should have played out.” Then he excitedly continued on towards his truck, pulling you along with him, which caused you to laugh loudly at this giant, cheeseball.

The next stop was Sam’s house, though you didn’t go in, nor did you see Sam. Steve just led you to the backyard and you saw that everything had been set up just like it was that first birthday of his, the first one you’d been in town for. Even down to the paper with ‘Fire pit reserved, so piss off!’ written on it and attached to a chair.

You looked up at him, after taking it all in and saw that he had just been watching you, as you did.

“This spot is special,” he said then turned to glance around, “it will also be the only spot I show from that night.” He looked at you again, “unless you want a piggyback ride to Nat’s house?” He smirked.

You smirked right back, as you recited the same words you’d said that night, “a piggyback ride does sound very tempting,” you hummed it over for a second. “Yeah, who am I kidding? I’d never turn down a free ride,” you winked and then you both laughed.

“Okay, but it will have to wait till later. We have a schedule to keep,” he said then looked around again, thoughtfully, as he spoke, “this was the place where you gave me the best birthday gift I could have ever asked for. It wasn’t some fancy, expensive gift, like I’d received from others in the past. No, you actually thought it out. Put effort into it. And it was perfect, I couldn’t have asked for anything better. And it warmed my heart to think of you setting it all up for me, and just how well you already knew me. Even after such a short amount of time.” He turned to smile at you, “but you almost always knew exactly what to do to warm my heart. It was like it just came naturally to you. Which didn’t go unnoticed.”

“Honestly, I was so nervous about that night, I was worried it wouldn’t be enough. I’d wanted to do more for you, but you are seriously so difficult to buy for.” You both laughed again.

“Gotta keep you on your toes,” he said, “but honestly, it’s the thought that matters. I’m not big into buying gifts, I have everything I could ever want. Or need. I just love how you find the little ways to show me that you’re thinking of me. To show me that you care.”

“Okay, noted,” you said with a nod, “that’s easy enough to accomplish, when all I can ever think about is you. And I do care about you, more than you’ll ever know.”

“Oh,” he raised an eyebrow at you, “I’m all you can ever think about?”

“Oh god,” you playfully groaned, “please don’t let that go to your giant ego.”

“Too late,” he chuckled, “and it’s only giant because of you.”

“Well shit,” you mumbled, jokingly, “I knew I shouldn’t have complimented you so much.”

He laughed loudly at that, “we’re already here, so no point in stopping now. Keep the compliments coming.”

You rolled your eyes, fondly, but then he continued on, “but this spot wasn’t just about what you did for me that night, it was also going to be the place I finally confessed my feelings for you.” He sighed then mumbled, “but I kept getting interrupted.”

“Really? You were going to tell me that night?” You asked, wide eyed.

He nodded, “I was. I’d planned on telling you that night, for weeks. Bucky even knew about it.”

“That little bugger!” You joked, knowing full well Bucky would never go behind Steve’s back on anything, let alone something as big as him having feelings for someone. Even if it would have made all of this a whole lot easier. But would you have even believed Bucky if he had come to you telling you about Steve’s true feelings for you? Probably not.

“Oh trust me, he begged me many times to just tell you. He even threatened to tell you himself once, if I didn’t get my shit together fast enough. He clearly never ended up telling you, but for a few days there, I honestly panicked, thinking that he was going to,” he laughed.

“That sounds like something Bucky would do,” you laughed as well, “he’s always been the pushy one.” You paused, “well, him and Nat.” Another pause, “oh god, they really are so perfect for each other.”

“They are. But they aren’t the only ones,” he smiled down at you, and you instantly knew what he meant by that. Because you and him were also so perfect for each other.

“That they aren’t,” you said back.

He took your hand, giving your knuckles a gentle kiss as he murmured, “on to the next spot.” And then he led you back to the truck.

But you didn’t miss the curtains moving in Sam’s house. And instantly you knew he had most likely been watching. The lurker. You chuckled causing Steve to look back at you but you waved it off, “I’ll tell you later.” To which he just smiled and nodded as he opened the truck door for you, again.

The next stop was the lake, specifically in front of the concession stand. The exact spot you both stood and waited for your food that day. The spot where you had almost kissed Steve for the first time.

“You already know that I wanted to kiss you that day at the lake—or that I wanted you to kiss me,” he corrected.

“And that you pouted about it for the rest of the night,” you ribbed him, lovingly.

He gasped and feigned offence, “yeah, well you would have too if the girl of your dreams was about to kiss you and then literally pulled away as if you were on fire,” he pouted. “Then apologized for almost kissing you, because she, and I quote, ‘didn’t mean to’.”

“Ouch,” you said slowly, “yeah, okay, I’ll let you have that one,” you giggled, “you actually remembered my exact words?”

“Thanks for that,” he scoffed, “and yeah, I had nightmares about that day for weeks. And I say nightmares because even in my dreams, you never kissed me in that moment.”

“Awe,” you coo, “my poor baby.” You smirked and watched as he feigned offence again, but then the look quickly disappeared from his face.

“Oh, you’ll pay for that one, Y/L/N,” he said as he reached out and grabbed you, you didn’t even have a chance to attempt to avoid him this time. He was too fast.

He then began to tickle you, and you forfeited damn near instantly. “Okay! Okay! I give! I give!”

He stopped tickling you, and you pulled him down to plant a kiss on his lips. Pulling away after a moment, “there, does that make up for not kissing you the first time?”

“No, but it’s a step in the right direction,” he said before pulling you back into him for another few kisses.

After a moment he pulled away to glance at his watch, “okay, we have to go, there is something we have to pick up soon.” You gave him a quizzical look but he just shook his head, “you’ll have to wait and see.” Then he walked you back to the truck.

A little bit later you pulled into Huddle House’s parking lot, and instantly your mouth watered, he looked over at you and laughed. “Wait here,” he said as he hopped out of the truck and went inside, coming out a few minutes later with 2 brown bags in his hands.

He climbed back into the truck and handed you one, “now, I was going to take you out to some fancy restaurant for dinner, but I figured you’d appreciate this a little more.”

You happily took the bag, “oh gosh,” you groaned, “it smells just as divine as I remember.” You contently sighed then peeked in the bag and took a giant whiff of the glorious smell.

Steve chuckled as he watched you, “but does it,” he raised his hand up as if to show the words up in lights as he spoke, “Smell Divine, Every Time?”

You burst out laughing, “oh god, you remember that too?”

“I remember everything. You’re kind of hard to forget, plus you’re weird. So that helps.” He smiled sweetly as you scoffed at him and then you both dug into the bags. And just like always, you had to search for the dang fork. You eventually found it with a triumphant ‘ha!’ That was followed closely by a happy, “oh damn, it also still looks better than it smells.”

To which Steve murmured between bites, “you always say that.”

Once the food was finished you looked over at him, feeling so pleasantly full, “amazing choice. That was perfect, I’m so glad you picked here instead of some fancy restaurant.”

“I’m glad to hear it, I figured you’d like this more,” he said as he collected up all the garbage and got out of the truck to throw it away.

Once he was done that, he climbed back in, “okay, so this spot was to signify that first summer I spent away from you. That was the summer I knew it wasn’t just some silly crush, and that I truly loved you, and everything about you. Being away from you for those 2 months was hell, but coming home and seeing you again made it all better. That morning will forever be etched into my mind.”

“Mine too,” you said softly, “that was actually the summer I realized my true feelings for you, as well.”

His eyes widened slightly, “really?”

You nodded, “yeah.”

“Wow,” he said slowly, “what are the odds?”

You shrugged, “1 in a million, I’d bet.”

“Sounds about right,” he smiled, “okay, let’s go.”

You both buckled up then headed off. Pulling into High Life’s parking lot soon after. And your heart rate had instantly sped up. He hadn’t said this would be the final spot, but you just knew it was going to be. This was it. The moment you've always dreamed of. Well, the first big moment in a domino effect of moments to follow.

He hopped out and opened the door for you, then led you to the exact spot you’d shared, not only your true feelings but also your first kiss.

He stood there quietly for a moment, hands in his pockets, just staring up at the bar, “and this, this is where my favourite chapter, so far, started.”

He turned to you, “God, that night started off complete shit but it turned out to be, hands down, the best night of my life, so far.” He smiled and took your hand, and you were damn near screaming on the inside, “honestly, Y/N, the words I said to you that night were so true at the time, I did love you so much back then.” He paused and the look in his eyes softened a bit, “but now, now I realize that I barely loved you at all. Not truly at least, not fully.” He shook his head, “I could have never loved you then, like I do now. Not without having the last year to learn all about you as my girlfriend, instead of my best friend. Not without getting to see you first thing in the morning, no makeup and messy hair—”

“The messy hair is entirely your fault,” you interjected and he just chuckled and shhh’d you then whispered, “I have no regrets about that.” Which he finished off with a wink.

You giggled and then he continued on, “as I was saying. I couldn’t love you truly back then without learning that you like to spend Sunday mornings in bed, reading and marking your students assignments. Or that you prefer to shower first thing in the morning, as opposed to at night. Or that you always do the Sunday crosswords in pen, so no one else can do it. Or really, any of the many other amazing things that I’ve learned about you in the last year.”

He slowly lowered down to one knee and pulled a little box out of his pants pocket, and you straight up almost squealed. No joke, you had to quickly slap your free hand over your mouth to stop the noise from escaping. “Basically, all that was to say, I love you more now then I did then. The first time we found ourselves in this very spot. And I want to continue to not only learn about you, but to love you even more, as I do.” He released your hand to quickly open the box, then took it again, “So, Y/N Y/L/N, will you do me the honour of marrying me, and allowing me to love you, more and more, for the rest of our lives?”

And then the squeal finally escaped you, you honestly couldn’t have stopped it even if you’d tried, “yes! Oh god, yes!” You fell to your knees and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him towards you and crashing your lips to his. He chuckled and wrapped his arms around your waist as kissed you back with everything he had.

You pulled away after a moment, when the cheers finally reached your ears and then glanced around in search of the cause. Instantly noticing the little gang of 6 people standing off to the side of the parking lot. And you knew exactly who they all were, without a shadow of a doubt.

Steve stood up then helped you up off your knees, he placed the ring on your finger then turned to quickly glance at your friends before turning back to you, to whisper, “I tried to tell them we’d come see them after all of this, but they weren’t having any of it. They refused to miss this moment,” he chuckled fondly.

“That sounds like them,” you laughed then waved them over, “they wouldn’t be our merry band of misfits if they weren’t,” you started and then yelled the next part for them to hear, “overbearing and pushy as hell.”

“Hey!” Sam exclaimed, “we heard that!”

“That was the point, Sammy,” you smirked at him.

He paused then shrugged as he said, “honestly, I can’t even deny that, all of us are those things,” he laughed.

“And we like it that way,” Bucky added.

You all excitedly chatted in the parking lot for a bit, then all ventured into High Life to celebrate.

All throughout the night you’d glanced down at the beautiful ring on your finger and a smile would break out on your face, then you’d glance at Steve and your smile would grow even bigger. And every time you’d look at him, it was like he could feel it, and he’d look back at you. Then smile himself, as if he knew why you were looking at him.

The night ended up being an amazing one. But honestly, you were too happy for it to be anything but amazing.

January 2020 - 5 months ago.

You’d tried on 24 dresses so far and were reaching the point of being fed up and done with dress shopping. You could picture the exact dress you wanted in your head, but finding it, that wasn’t so easy. You’d gone to 5 different bridal shops in search of your dream dress, and had come up short at all of them—Well, you were currently still in bridal shop number 5, so it couldn’t be ruled out just yet, but you weren’t too hopeful it wouldn’t be ruled out soon. Like the others.

So you just stood there, in the little silk robe they give you when trying on dresses and waited for the attendant to return. You’d tried on 3 dresses so far during this appointment and as you were taking off the 3rd one the attendant froze and said, “oh! I think I know exactly which dress to try next.” Then she quickly mumbled a, “be right back,” and tore out of the room to grab the dress. But once again, you weren’t hopeful it would be a success.

At this point you were resigning yourself to just marrying Steve in some damn jeans. It would be fitting to your relationship. But before you could venture too far down that rabbit hole, the attendant knocked and entered the room, a dress in a clear bag draped over her shoulder.

She helped you into the dress and then clipped it tightly to your form at the back before she helped turn you towards the mirror. You gasped, and the tears instantly formed in your eyes as you took in the sight. In this exact moment, you felt like a bride. And you instantly knew, “this is the dress,” you whispered, breathlessly.

“Oh yay!” The attendant cheered happily from behind you, “okay, let’s go show it to your group.” She adjusted one of the clips and then lifted up the bottom to help you walk.

You climbed up onto the podium and turned to your friends and your dad. Who were all currently speechless. And that caused your tears to finally break the confines of your lower lids, and run happily down your cheeks, as you chuckled out a watery, “so, what do you guys think?”

“Perfect,” Wanda sniffled.

“Breathtaking,” Hilde nodded, wiping a stray tear away.

“Oh god, you’re a vision,” your Aunt Carol whispered.

“I’m more emotional about seeing you in this dress, then I was about my own,” Nat said through a breathless chuckle as she grabbed a kleenex and dapped below her eyes.

You nodded happily, then turned to your dad, who still hadn’t said a word yet, “what do you think, daddy?”

He glanced up and down at the dress for a moment then met your eyes. And you realized his were now also filled with tears. “Oh, kiddo. This is it,” he nodded and smiled, “this is the dress.”

“Yeah?” You asked as you looked down at the dress then at all of them.

“Oh yeah,” they all said in unison.

“Steve is going to fall over when he sees you walking down the aisle towards him in that,” Hilde said and you laughed loudly at that thought.

“I hope not, can’t have him injured on our honeymoon,” you smirked, and then burst out laughing again when you heard your dad groan loudly from his place on the couch.

“I didn’t need to hear that,” he shook his head, and mumbled, “I can’t unhear that now.”

You finally calmed down your laughing fit enough to tell the attendant you’d take the dress. Even though she’d probably already figured that out.

Your dad bought the dress for you, not even allowing the attendant to tell you how much it cost. His exact words were, “the price doesn’t matter. This is the dress and I’ll be damned if you don’t get to walk down the aisle wearing it.”

And that’s exactly what you’d get to do.

June 2020 - Present.

“It’s our time, kiddo,” your dads soft words pull you back to the present and you blink away the flash backs and turn to smile at him.

You take a deep breath, “then what are we waiting for,” you excitedly reply and then both doors are pulled open for you to make your grand entrance, on the arm of the first man you ever loved. The same arm that will soon pass you off to the last man you’ll ever love.

After one more glance at your father, who is clearly trying not to cry, you take a step through the doors and your eyes instantly find Steve’s. And the look on his face says it all.

He breaks the eye contact for a moment, to glance the full length of you, and then those beautiful deep blues lock back with yours and even from down the aisle, you can see the tears building up in them. And that almost makes you cry, but you manage to hold it together, determined to not ruin your makeup before he gets an up close look at you.

You reluctantly break the eye contact, in the hopes it will help you hold back the tears, and then you glance at the people in the pews on either side of the aisle. Seeing Thor and Vis sitting beside each other, giant smiles on their handsome faces and both looking dapper in their suits.

Then you see Laura and the kids, all dressed up and looking amazing. Before your eyes shift to the other side and see Sam’s mom and sisters, all looking beautiful as always in their pastel coloured dresses.

Next your eyes find Peter, Tony and Pepper, sitting near the front. You’d met Pepper about a year ago when you’d gone to a family dinner with Steve, she was lovely and you were so happy to learn Tony had met a nice woman finally, one you hoped would stay around for a while. As you both had hit it off instantly and you could totally see her making an awesome sister in law one day.

And next to them are Steve’s parents, Howard and Maria, both looking so effortlessly content and happy in this moment. Like they both had known this day would come, and the cheeky wink Maria gives you solidifies that thought.

Then lastly you look to the other side, seeing Winnie, James Jr, Maria Hill, your Aunt Carol and your cousin Lashana all sitting together. Winnie and your aunt were already bawling their eyes out and you hadn’t even reached Steve yet, that made you giggle quietly to yourself as your eyes finally flicked back up to Steve’s.

You both then hold the eye contact the rest of your way down the aisle, up until your dad passes you off to your future husband, sharing a few whispered words that you can’t quite make out, but you do see Steve nod his agreement to something before he focuses back on you to whisper, “come on, beautiful. I’ve been waiting 11 years to make you my wife. I can’t wait any longer.”

You giggle softly at this corny cheeseball you were about to marry, then let him lead you up the steps, knowing instantly that this is exactly where you’re meant to be. And Steve is exactly who you’re meant to be with.

If only you’d known sooner, but, then again, you know now, and that’s really all that matters. You got here eventually, and honestly, you wouldn’t have changed a thing. You believe everything happens for a reason, everything plays out a certain way to force you to grow, learn and appreciate everything you have. If things all came easily, they wouldn’t mean as much in the end.

You glance at your soon-to-be husband and smile, receiving a smile in return, then you both focus on the minister. Knowing that this is the final part before you both can call yourselves married. And you both couldn’t wait any longer for that. Or the beautiful, crazy, corny life that would follow this moment—The life where your best friend is by your side every step of the way, except now you’d call him your husband.

‘Your husband.’ God, you really love the way that sounds.

The End.

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muse

request: art major!reader w law major!doyoung pls :cc bullet note format if u can!!!

a/n: he’s a year older than you but it doesn’t matter that much

warning: a few swear words oopsie

genre: fluffy college!au

pairing: doyoung x reader

summary: ummm basically just how you and doyoung meet and get to know each other

word count: 5.1k (oops)

lets GOOOOOOOO

okay so basically college has been a JOURNEY

people ALWAYS had some shit to say as soon as they found out you were an art major

it was usually “what are you going to do with that” “do you know how unsteady that career path is”

liKE I GET IT

do they really think they’re telling you something new????

oh I’m sorry your majoring in business Susan™ and you decide to throw away your passions just because some high school counselor told you that you wouldn’t be able to support yourself but IM going to make my passion a career

lol sorry I have a lot of feelings

now onto how you met your mans doyoung

your freshman and sophomore years, you had only seen him in passing

tbh you barely recognized him when you saw him more than once

you knew him as “that one dude that i always see in the dining hall wearing suits”

then junior year you got a job at the convenience store on campus (lets get this BREAD)

pls tell me it isn’t some weird niche thing that only my school has

aNyWHO he started coming in around 2 am right before closing

and ALWAYS picked up 3 coffees all of which had double shots of espresso

this happened about 2 or 3 times a week

(which is very unhealthy guys gals and nonbinary pals pls try to drink cold water instead, it helps wake me up or green tea)

so despite seeing him so often at work, he began to appear less and less everywhere else

were you lowkey kinda sad about it???

mAYhaPS

that was until winter quarter started

you needed an elective class, SO you figured ‘eh why not take philosophy’ you had heard around that the professor is really chill and overall the class wasn’t supposed to be that bad

WELL GUESS AGAIN

 because that really nice professor that everyone loved isn’t the one teaching the class this quarter

but hey you figured let’s go into this with an open mind and hope for the best

well on day one of this class (which is a 9 am by the way) guess who struts through the door

mister “that one guy i’d always see wearing a suit” who became mister “that one dude who always buys too much coffee at 3 am”

the man… the myth…… the legend………….MISTER KIM DOYOUNG

yep and ya boi decided to sit 2 seats down from you, it was too far to say hi or anything (esp bc you had never really spoken to him before) but like he was also just close enough for it to be awkward

so class went by normally you found out that the new professor wasn’t THAT bad but there was definitely gonna be a lot of work involved

so yeah life carries on as normal

you still see him all the time at the convenience store

one night it had been a particularly rough shift

your alarm didn’t go off, so you were running late, it had started to rain on your walk to work, and when you finally got there your manager apparently had someone piss in his cheerios because he had S U C H an attitude because you were

 TWO

MINUTES

LATE

you were sat behind the counter after what felt like hours of sweeping and mopping the floors

that’s when he walked in

you didn’t even lift your head to greet him as “hi, welcome” crawled itself out of your mouth

you did however notice when he sat his 3 cans of coffee in front of you

“hey your y/n right?”

 “that’s what it says on my nametag”

“haha yeah it does. i think i have you in my philosophy class”

when you finally met his eyes, you felt a little bad

you had kinda been giving him the cold shoulder for something that wasn’t his fault

 you gave him a little smile

“yeah i am. doyoung right?”

he nodded slightly

the air was a little awkward and silent as you scanned his coffees

as you handed him the receipt he asked “hey do you maybe want to study together sometime. i mean our test is in like two weeks and it’s a quarter of our grade so like if you were free we could hang out and get some work done?”

dUDE you froze

here he was standing right in front of you; messy hair, sweatpants, a sweatshirt repping your school logo and looking very nervous (but very attractive lmao)

i guess your reply took a little too long because he quickly started to back peddle

“i mean if you prefer to study alone that’s cool. i just always see you during lecture and you look like you understand the material and sometimes i get a little lost in terminology but if you don’t want to that’s fine too.”

you quickly snapped out of your haze

 “no, no. i would love to study with you. here let me give you my number so we can meet up. most of my classes are in the morning so any time after like noon should be fine.”

 you grabbed his receipt back and quickly scribbled your number on it before handing it back

“just text me when you want to get together”

 okay honestly you had never been one to give out your phone number just like that and you didn’t really like studying with people

but something about him made it so hard to say no

you just had this urge to get to know him

so when he texted you a few days later asking if you were free to study that night

of course you said yes

and it went pretty smoothly

he has a much better understanding of the material than he let on at first

he even ended up helping you understand a few things

you got together w few times over the next couple of weeks

each time you met you got to know each other more and more

yall quickly became friends

well yall became friends after the first night studying because lets be real it was awKWARD

like neither of you felt particularly comfortable yet because this was the first time you had actually hung out with each other despite knowing of each other’s existence for two years

oh yeah that’s something you found out after getting to know one another

 he had always seen you around campus and wanted to get to know you but never did because he thought it’d freak you out having a random stranger coming up to you like

‘hey I know you don’t know me but I see you all the time. let’s be friends.’

which isn’t THAT crazy but to each their own

okay but let’s jump to the time 2 days before your exam

you guys agreed to meet up at the library and the plan was to study for A WHILE just to make sure you were prepared ya know?

so like you get there and he was already sitting in a room waiting

 when you open the door he gets up to hug you

which he hasn’t ever done before

and like tbh he was really warm and smelled really nice like it his cologne wasn’t too strong, and it smelt sweet but also very inviting which isn’t really a scent but like do you get me? and he gave a really tight hug like the type that you didn’t want to let go of it felt as though you could stay there forever (this is also where you lowkey start having feelings for him but shhh because you don’t realize it yet)

so back the point

obvi you start studying and besides the hug nothing was really that different

you got through the material, quizzed each other, talked a bit

ya know the usual

time flew by and the next thing you know it’s 12:30 am and the library would be closing at 1 so you decide to wrap it up

“alright doyoung i’ll see you in class. get some rest before the test okay?”

 “yeah yeah i will” he rolled his eyes a little bit

 “seriously dude. i know you. go straight to sleep when you get back to your place”

he worried you sometimes. He really wanted to do well and the applications for law school were opening up soon, so he’s been kinda stressed no matter how much he tried to hide it and this test coming up isn’t helping

“i will. i promise.”

he walked you out of the library and you two would usually part ways and walk alone to your apartments

before you could turn and say goodbye doyoung was already speaking

“hey it’s a lot darker out here than usual”

you looked up at the pitch-black sky

“yeah I guess it is, oh well at least I have my pep-“

 “what? you have your pepper spray right?”

“no i forgot that i let my roommate borrow it. she’s going to a sorority thing and won’t be back until like 3 or 4. it’s fine though my apartment is only like a 10-minute walk. goodnight do”

“wait y/n. i’ll walk you back. it’s way too late and too dark for you to go home”

“no i couldn’t ask you to do that. you’re law and society class is at 8 am tomorrow so you need to get some sleep.”

 “well i won’t be able to sleep anyway if I’m staying up worried about you. so lead the way.”

despite the cold fall air, your face felt hot

like you know that it’s normal for friends to be worried about each other but that didn’t make doyoung saying it any less charming

the walk back was nerve wracking

you guys normally don’t hang out outside of the context of studying

so like this was weird, nice but weird

and once you go to your door there was a cast of silence

doyoung was just looking at you

normally it would make you kinda uncomfy/insecure but right now you were calm

there was something about looking into his eyes

the brown was so warm and inviting

after a few seconds of the comfortable silence, he finally looked away

and I awkwardly cleared my throat “thank you for walking me home doyoung”

 “of course, i’m just gald to know you got here safely”

“so um, i was gonna wish you luck just in case we don’t see each other before the test but i mean judging from our study session you won’t need it though.”

he giggled and i swear someone could have mopped up your heart because it was in a puddle on the floor

“shut up y/n. thank you though. i always appreciate your kind words. do you want to meet for lunch after the exam? i usually have a lab afterwards but it got cancelled so if you’re free we should meet up.” asjdjjklcbclkNCKDLSNCOS

“yeah i am free. i guess i’ll see you then.”

 he took a few steps back “yeah i guess you will. goodnight y/n”

“goodnight doyoung. actually get some sleep tonight, yeah?”

you could see his shoulders shake with laughter as he walked down the steps

to say you were smitten would be an UNDERSTATEMENT

the smile that showed up didn’t leave even after you fell asleep

when you get to class on that friday morning, doyoung is already sitting in his usual seat

the bags that usually take their place beneath his eyes are barely visible today

hopefully he took your advice and actually went to sleep

after the test you both got some burgers for lunch and just talked it had nothing to do with the test which was nice

i guess y’all make a great pair because once the scores came out, both of you got A’s

after that studying together became a routine

every tuesday, thursday and saturday leading up to the next test,  you guys would review or sometimes just hang out

it was a mutual decision to help each other study

even if you didn’t share the class, one would be there to quiz and make sure the other focused (most of the time it worked, other times you’d be the reason they got distracted and vice versa)

the two of you would go out for lunch on those days instead

as the quarter drew to a close and the break got nearer and nearer as did finals week

you and doyoung tried to keep up with your study schedule but it was getting harder

you had artwork due

you were particularly stressed over a sculpture that was assigned

your teacher gave you those choice of clay or marbleas a medium and clearly you chose clay

you were going to do marble but then you remembered the other 3 tests you need to prepare for and a portfolio that had to fit the theme of mythology

so basically you had a lot of art to produce and NO INSPIRATION like none, zero, zip, zilch, nada

you sat in the room you had reserved in the arts building

a pile of clay sat atop a slab of rock, a blank page of a sketchbook sat next to that

scrolling through pinterest had stopped working long ago and at this point you were losing hope

ring, ring, ring

doyoung’s name popped up on your screen

it was odd because you two usually texted for everything

“hey, do what’s up?”

“hi y/n i was just wondering if you wanted to grab some fro-yo. i just got out of another test and could use some company”

“ahh, doyoung i’m sorry but i’m stuck doing work. do you remember that mythology sculpture i told you about? well, it’s due next Wednesday and i haven’t even started on it yet”

his voice sounded so concerned “is everything okay? how are you doing?”

“i’m doing okay, just tired. i’ve been trying so hard but can’t find any inspiration” you sighed into the phone, looking out the window of your room

“what room are you in?”

“room 247 in building B. why?”

“just sit tight.”

the call ended before you could ask any more questions

okay when i tell yall it was less than five minutes and he was walking through the door just know that what i really mean is he rAN FROM THE OTHER SIDE OF CAMPUS TO COME COMFORT YOU

so yeah, he got there huffin and puffin, ready to blow your house down (with love)

“doyoung, what are you doing here?”

“well you were upset.” his tone was so matter-of-fact, and his eyes were so wide and innocent

honestly he looked so cute but like you were still very confused

what was he doing there?????

yeah you were upset but you also didn’t want to worry him

he casually walked over to a seat beside a window and pulled something out of his backpack

as he got closer and reached his hand out for you to take it, you noticed it was a sandwich

“it’s ham and cheese. light mayo, no lettuce or tomato”

when your eyes looked up at him he wouldn’t make eye contact

“you said this is the only way you take your sandwiches”

yALL 

you only told him this once in passing because he was eating a sandwich with mayo

but pls tell you are putting the pieces together

he stopped to get you food and made it across campus in 5 minutes

the walk alONE SHOULD HAVE TAKEN 10 MINUTES

HE STOPPED AND GOT YOU FOOD TO MAKE SURE YOU WEREN’T SKIPPING ANY MEALS

MARRY THID MANFSJDLFG

alrighty anywho

obviously you took the sandwich and spent 5 minutes thanking him for getting it for you

he sat back down in his seat near the window as you guys chatted for a bit

the conversation slowed slightly and you were able to just look at him

the light was bouncing off his face perfectly

his eyes looked like freshly brewed coffee. they were warm and inviting

his smile somehow managed to outshine the light pouring in

there he was

in all of his glory

your muse

your inspiration

his expression shifted to one of confusion

“y/n, why are you looking at me like that”

he could be your subject for not only the sculpture but also the portfolio as well

“okay this may be an odd favor and you can feel free to say no”

your leg couldn’t stop bouncing up and down and you thought your hands might catch a cramp from all the wringing they were doing

“don’t be silly. what is it?”

“well, i was thinking maybe you could be the model for my sculpture.”

 “of course i will but i thought it was supposed to be about mythology and i’m no greek god”

he chuckled a little bit

“shut up do. are you kidding me? your shoulders are like a mile wide. you have a great jawline and that smile? you’d have all the mortal girls falling for you i mean i did. that sounds like god-material to me”

he threw his head back laughing

mostly to hide the huge blush creeping up his cheeks

“okay, okay. i’ll pose for you. what do i have to do?”

“just sit still so that i can take some measurements of your face and then i’ll take some photos for reference afterwards.”

doyoung did as he was told for the most part

he sat there patiently

he kept peeking at your sketchbook as you laid out the rough ideas for a few of your other pieces

tbh you hadn’t even noticed

you were in the ZONE, you hadn’t been this inspired in a while and you wanted to take full advantage of it

you also hadn’t noticed the ,,,, um,,,, lack of space,,,,,, between the two of you

well doyoung had, to say the least

he sat there desperately hoping and praying that you wouldn’t notice how sharply he would breathe in everytime your hands touched his face to move its position

or that you couldn’t notice how much his hands were shaking and how he was constantly wiping them on his pants because they were very sweaty

finally, you had all the information you needed

as you stepped back and over to your chair in front of the clay, doyoung could finally breath

“doyoung, do you have any other classes today? i don’t want to keep you here if you have plans. you can go i can work off of the reference pictures”

he very vigorously shook his head

“no no, i’m free for the day.”

“okay. you should probably go get something to eat while get this started. this will probably be a long process.”

“yeah sure. do you want me to grab you anything while I’m gone?”

“nope i’m good. i already had the sandwich you brought me.”

“okay then i’ll be right back”

after he left it easy to feel the emptiness of the room

even though you were enveloped in your work it was still noticeable

the absence of his presence was palpable

the lack of it was almost suffocating

while you were worked on getting the basic shape and structure you found yourself unsettled

unable to get back into the ‘zone’ you found yourself in before

still, you pushed through the weird shift in the air, but it wasn’t long before doyoung came back with a bag of food

“hey doyoung.”

he glanced over at your pile of clay

“whoa. you made a lot of progress. okay i know you said that you didn’t want anything to eat but i brought burgers and some chips and stuff just in case.

“doyoung, you really didn’t have to. i would have been fine.”

he rolled his eyes but didn’t reply. he simply sat back in his chair and ate some of the fries that came with his burger

the hours seemed to fly by once doyoung returned

it also helped that you played music on the speaker that you brought

before you knew it, it was 5 pm and the sun was setting

you leaned back from your chair to stretch before standing and taking a good look at the sculpture

after about 4 hours of work, you were almost done

of course there were still things that needed to be touched up, like the hair and the eyes

you had decided on a pose of doyoung looking up and off into the distance

you turned and washed your hands in the sink at the back of the room

“here’s your burger if you want it. it might be a little cold, but it doesn’t have any mustard, lettuce, tomato, or pickle. that’s how you like it right?”

YALL HE DID IT AGAIN

HE REALLY JUST OUT HERE BEIN A WHOLE SWEETHEART

“yeah, how’d you know?”

“remember we met up for dinner before a study session a few weeks ago? that’s how you ordered your burger and you told me about how dill pickles were the bane of your existence”

 “which they are” you chuckled “but i can’t believe you remembered that”

“of course, i did. i remember everything you tell me”

your heart melted for like the fiFTH TIME TODAY

you smiled and blushed before grabbing the wrapped burger from his hands

you guys sat and ate in comfortable silence

once you had finished you turned to him

“if you’re ready to leave you can. i just have a few things to add but it’ll be okay if you aren’t here. i’m just about out of daylight anyway.”

he playfully cocked his head to the side and crossed his arms

“y/n. i have a feeling you’re trying to get rid of me”

“maybe i am doyoung. whatcha gonna do about it?”

“cry.”

you both busted up laughing

once you had calmed down you looked at him

“seriously do. if you wanna go study or sleep or something go ahead”

he stood up and began to walk closer to you

“oh stop that. y/n it isn’t a burden for me to stay here with you. i’m honored that you would choose me to be the subject of your work and i love spending my time with you”

at this point he was standing right in front of you. looking down into your eyes.

there was no hiding the redness flushing your skin

after a few moments of silence, you looked back down at your hands

he speaks again as if you two hadn’t spent the past minute just staring into each other’s eyes

“so what next? are you gonna keep sculpting me or are you gonna draw and paint a bit?”

“ummm ,,, i kinda want to just finish the sculpture so that i don’t have to worry about it ya know?”

“yeah. where is the light switch?”

“right by the corner near the door”

as he flipped on the switch and light once again flooded the room

you were able to get a good look at the sculpture

despite it not being finished, you were still incredibly happy and proud of it

you sat back down in front of it ready to finish the work

it only took another hour or two to finish once you really got back into it

you spent the bulk of the time adding in all the little details

and you also decided last minute to add a wreath atop his head and the top of a toga

you took a final step back before sighing in relief

you were finished

you almost wanted to cry

while you were staring at the piece doyoung got up to stand behind you and look at it as well

“wow y/n. it’s beautiful.”

“well it’s you so i hope it is.”

LOOK AT YOU. BEING BOLD. OKAAYYYY

before he could say anything else, you walked back to the sink and while washing your hands, asked his help to put it in another room to dry for a few days before it goes into the kiln

“it’ll take a while to dry so i’m going to leave it here and head to bed”

“okay well i can walk you back to your apartment”

“alrighty”

okay so you grabbed all your stuff (with his help because doyoung is too nice to just walk beside you as you try carry 4 different bags filled with art supplies)

the walk back was kind of uneventful

you invited him in to drop all your things off before he headed out, not until you thanked him for spending the day with you and being your subject

okay so 2 weeks pass

you and doyoung meet up a few times because you need him to model a few poses for your portfolio

but FINALLY you finished your portfolio and sculpture and turned it all in

since then you have been relaxing, getting ready for winter break

well “relaxing” is a loose term

tbh you had been kinda stressed over the scores you were going to get on the artwork

and today, the day before the quarter ends, your professor would be handing back your portfolio & sculpture with a score

you decided to text doyoung after getting dismissed from class

y/n: “hey i get the score for my art project back today. do you want to meet up and we can find out together?”

doyoung: “oh my gosh yes. but are you sure you want me to be there?”

y/n: “of course do. you were such a big part of this, i couldn’t leave you out of it. besides you haven’t seen the finished portfolio”

doyoung: “okay. same art room as last time?”

y/n: “yep. i’ll see you in 20”

you were nervous. as you waited in the room, your legs couldn’t stay still so you decided to pace in hopes of calming yourself down

or at least having something to do

when he walked into the room, your eyes met

there was no hiding the frantic look in them either

“hey y/n. do you have it?”

you pulled a card from inside the front of your portfolio and set it down on the table

doyoung’s voice was soft and calming as he walked up to you

“can i look at it?”

he picked up the large folder

in a large gold print:

PROMETHEUS, he dies everyday but wouldn’t wish for any other way to spend eternity

“you chose me to represent Prometheus? what’s his story”

you began to recount the tale as doyoung slowly flipped through pages of your artwork

·         “well he was the youngest of the titans, which were the creators of greek gods. it was said that he was also the kindest. when he looked upon the earth and saw how the humans were struggling, Prometheus felt pity and decided to give them a gift. he gave them a divine secret of the gods. he gave them fire. he did this despite knowing that Zeus would punish him if he found out. which he did. the other titans and gods were furious, so they tied him to a rock near the sea. every day an eagle would come and rip out prometheus’ liver and he would die. every night it would grow back bringing him back to life. this torturous routine goes on every day and night and according to the myth it continues until this day, as it will forever.”

as you finished the story doyoung closed the folder

all he said was “wow”

it made you nervous. “so ,,,,, do you like it?”

“y/n. this is beyond words. this is amazing. and you chose me?”

“well yeah i mean. you two just seemed to fit each other. you are the kindest person i know. you’re very generous too. so really it wouldn’t have worked if i had chosen anyone else or any other myth.”

he said nothing. just set down your work and hugged you.

you embraced each other. sharing this moment.

“y/n no matter the score on the other side of that car, just know that your work is beyond incredible. not just because it’s of me”

you both laughed before he continued

“seriously. you are an amazing artist. your art moves people. it makes me feel emotions that i haven’t felt in a while. it takes me on a journey.”

he pulled back and gave you one last smile before grabbing the card off of the table

“on 3”

“….1”

“….2”

“….3!”

a 97 was written in bright red marker

“oh my gosh y/n”

you two jumped back into each other’s arms

the smile on your face was ear to ear. there was no way it was going to fade any time soon

“I knew you could do it.”

“not without you i couldn’t have,” you say leaning back slightly, your arms still around his neck

he rolls his eyes at you

“seriously doyoung. if you hadn’t come by that day i don’t know what i would have done. you were my muse”

his arms were wrapped tightly around your waist

your eyes would have met if his weren’t staring at your lips right now

“y/n.” he whispered

“doyoung?”

“can i kiss you?”

“absolutely”

FUCKING FINALLY

ahem sorry I got a little excited for you

it was great. what can i say

it was everything you expected to be

before you thought that the whole “fireworks” thing was just movies overexaggerating

 but NOW you can attest to that

the kiss with doyoung had so much built up tension and caring and passion and just wowza

when you finally pulled apart

both of you were slightly out of breath

doyoung still had this cute, dumb smile plastered on his face

he gave you a few more pecks

which of course made you have a big dumb smile plastered on your face

you actually pulled apart and out of his arms this time and took a look at the score card

beneath your score the professor left a little note

“i hope you don’t mind but i emailed the art gallery about your work. they have a small exhibition open if you’d like to showcase your art. here’s the email: ­­­­­­_______. please consider it. you have serious talent.”

“an art gallery doyoung. an exhibition in an art gallery.”

tears fell down your face

this was an amazing opportunity

a dream came true

“i can come over tonight and we can email them.”

you just nodded your head

tbh you were still in shock

this was a huge opportunity

“so y/n. i know there is a lot going on right now but I can’t wait. will you be my girl/boy-friend?

“doyoung of course. can you help me take this stuff back to my apartment then if you want we can go grab something to eat?”

he nodded happily and grabbed the sculpture

THE END

goodness gracious that took a while

I hope you enjoyed reading this 5 thousand-word trainwreck

I know some of the stuff about creating sculptures isn’t accurate, but I need to make it work with the timeline I had in my head

I hope it didn’t bother anyone too much

but yeah

thanks for reading

also I didn’t proofread this so hopefully there aren’t many mistakes

if there are just message me and I’ll fix them

also also here’s a sequel type thing that doesn’t have to be seen as a sequel umm it isn’t as good as this one but here ya go

·         

[tonystarkstan]

you’re still young (that’s not your fault)

Summary: Being a superhero? Hard. Being a superhero in high school? Harder. Luckily, he’s got Iron Man on his side.

or, five times Tony goes to Peter’s school and one time Peter goes with him to work.

Note: This is posted on my AO3, but it’s one of my favorite things I’ve ever written, so I thought I’d share it here! I hope you guys like it.

“So like, the issue is that I like learning and I need to go to school to get a good education in order to be qualified for an actual career,” Peter tells Ned as they stand at their lockers.

“How is that an issue?” Ned asks in confusion.

Peter sighs dramatically. “I hate school,” he says, as if that explains everything.

Ned nods sympathetically. “Makes sense. Oh, the joys of social hierarchy. Also, I forgot the solubility rules, so I totally bombed that part of the quiz today. Which means I’m probably going to fail, which means I’ll be kicked out of school, which means I’ll have to work at McDonald’s for the rest of my life and live off of a minimum wage salary.”

Peter pats his back consolingly. “You and me both, man. School just proves what we already knew: the world is conspiring against us.”

Ned scoffs. “Okay, but at least you have Spider-Man,” he points out, saying the name quietly so no one overhears.

Peter gives him a weird look. “Oh yeah, loved getting bitten by a fucking radioactive spider. It was like getting a kiss from Mother Nature.”

Ned shrugs. “Who cares? You’re staying with Tony freaking Stark. How is that, by the way?”

“Oh, it’s great!” he says enthusiastically. “The man has, like, zero parenting skills, so I get to eat whatever I want, and we just stay in his lab all night.”

“Dude, your life is so not real,” Ned says incredulously. “Have you heard from May?”

“Yeah, she said she’ll probably be home this weekend. I think she feels bad, but her work really needed extra hands with the hurricane relief, so it’s fine.”

“Gotcha. Hey, what do you – whoa!” Ned exclaims. “What’s going on?”

As they turn the corner, as large mass of students clogs the hall, all trying to peer over each other to get a look at whatever’s caught their attention. Before Ned and Peter can get any closer, though, the crowd parts down the middle by a seemingly invisible force.

That is, until Tony Stark steps through.

As usual, he’s wearing a three-piece suit, his trademark sunglasses, and in his hands is – what the fuck? – a Spider-Man lunchbox.

Tony’s eyes lands on the pair of them, and he casually makes his way over to them, as if Iron Man walking through a high school is normal.

“Hey, Pete! I was just looking for you,” he informs Peter.

“Hi, uh, Mr. Stark. Um. Hi. What are you, uh, doing here?” he asks, trying to ignore all the blatant stares that are now focused on them.

“What? A billionaire can’t just come by to see his favorite mentee?” He’s smirking though, and Peter knows the superhero is taking great pleasure out of embarrassing him.

“No,” he retorts flatly.

Tony puts his hand on his chest dramatically. “Oh, how you wound me. Betrayed! By one of my very own! What ever did I do to deserve such treatment?”

“Jesus Christ,” Peter mutters. “What do you want? Ned and I were just about to head to lunch.”

“Ah ha! And that is where I come in. I am, as usual, here to save the day.”

Peter raises an eyebrow and gives him an unimpressed look. Tony huffs. “Sheesh, tough crowd to please, apparently.” He holds out the lunchbox. “Lunch. You left your’s.”

Peter thinks back, suddenly remembering that oh yeah, he definitely did leave his lunch on the counter. However, it’d been in his old Star Wars lunchbox that he’d had as long as he could remember.

Noticing his look, Tony gestures to the bag. “I took the liberty of getting you an upgrade. We all know how much you like Spider-Man.”

Yup, I’m definitely filling his Iron Man helmet with ramen noodles now.

“Wow. Thanks,” he says, sounding anything but. He takes the bag gingerly. “Now I won’t starve. A true hero you are. Really living up to your name.”

Tony pretends to blush. “You’re too kind. I’m just here as a completely selfless act of service.”

“Sure. So, can you, like, leave?” Peter says impatiently.

Tony shoots him an affronted look. “Well, I know when I’m not welcome. Which, let’s be honest, never actually happens because I’m a famous genius billionaire. But I really do have to get going.”

“Oh, thank god,” Peter breathes. Tony laughs and ruffles the kid’s hair, knowing it’s all in jest.

“See ya later, kid.” He turns to Ned. “And you – be sure he actually eats it.” Ned looks like he’s about to faint. And with that, Tony turns on his heel and struts out, leaving behind a bunch of astonished high schoolers. Peter’s pretty sure Flash’s jaw is about to hit the floor.

After a second of stunned silence, Ned looks over at Peter and smirks. “What was it you were saying earlier about ‘zero parenting skills’?”

Peter groans. “Shut up.”

Ned’s laughter is drowned out by the mass of students headed excitedly in their direction.

-

“Dude, you look like shit,” is how Ned greets him.

Peter doesn’t even have the energy to be offended. He certainly feels like shit, flashes of hot and cold racing through his body and forehead beading with sweat.

“It’s fine, we’re fine,” Peter says, not at all reassuringly.

“Yeah, okay,” Ned scoffs. “Why are you even here?”

Peter sags against his locker tiredly. “We’re supposed to be going over Shell integration and the Trapezoidal rule in calc today. I can’t afford to miss it. Also, we have decathlon practice after school today and MJ will kill me if I miss it. Again.”

He startles when a light slap meets the back of his head.

“Speak for yourself, loser. We don’t want your disease,” MJ says from behind him.

“Sorry, May raised me to always share,” Peter jokes. “Anywho, it’s too late for me to go home now. May’s already left for work. What a shame.”

MJ just rolls his eyes but Ned tosses him a doubtful look.

“Come on!” Peter protests. “Seriously, I don’t even feel that bad!”

Three class periods later, Peter’s more than ready to retract his earlier statement. He definitely feels that bad.

He’s in the middle of Anatomy class, and he can’t, for the life of him, keep his head up. His muscles are aching just with the small bit of effort it’s taking to use an arm to prop his head up, and he’s so, so hot but can’t seem to stop quivering.

At this point, he’s completely tuned out the teacher, entirely focused on trying to keep himself from throwing up in the middle of class because God knows Flash would never let him live that down.

His phone buzzes.

Chair Guy: dude

Chair Guy: you look like an actual zombie

Peter groans internally.

Friendly Neighborhood Peter: thanks.

Chair Guy: hey I have a great idea bc im a genius who goes to a smart kid school!!!!

Chair Guy: go :) home :)

Friendly Neighborhood Peter: no :)

Peter quickly puts his phone away, and he sees Ned shake his head in exasperation. The rest of the class passes by in a cloudy haze of sickness, and he blinks up blearily when a shadowy figure stands in front of him.

“Peter. Peter! Yo. Dude, come on, class is over. Even Dr. Arrington has left,” Ned informs him.

Peter groans, tossing an arm over his eyes with the thought that maybe if he doesn’t look at Ned, he’ll just go away.

No such luck. “Peter, if you don’t get up, I’m calling May.”

Immediately, Peter’s head shoots up, and he winces as the dull throb in his head intensifies.

“You can’t! She’s at work, her phone’s off anyway because she’s not allowed to be on it. Plus, I still have Calc! And Decathlon!” he protests, but even he can hear how weak it sounds.

Ned just rolls his eyes. “I’m pretty sure at this point, MJ would kick your ass if you showed up to practice. Go home and we’ll all send you a ‘Thank You’ card.”

Peter swats at him weakly.

“Peter, seriously. We gotta go,” Ned says, hoisting Peter’s bookbag onto his back. “Think you can get up?”

The vigilante stares at him blankly. Ned sighs.

“Yeah, okay,” he mumbles to himself. “We are not fucking doing this.” Louder, he says, “Peter, give me your phone.”

The exhausted teen tiredly reaches into his pocket, groaning at how heavy an achy his arms are. He hands his friend the phone. If he were more aware of what’s going on, he ‘d be much more suspicious. However, at the moment, Peter wants nothing more than for his friend to stop talking so the pounding in his head will cease.

“Thank you. Stay here for a second,” Ned tells him, and Peter doesn’t even question it. Not like he could move even if he wanted to.

Maybe I can Uber to my Spanish class, his feverish brain thinks.

He’s not actually sure how long he drifts in and out of clarity, but at some point, he opens his eyes to feel a gentle hand carding its way through his hair, and he instinctively leans in towards it.

“Hey, Pete,” a soft voice says. It’s a nice voice, Peter thinks. Not too rough, but just enough gravel in it to create a low comforting sound. And it’s… vaguely familiar.

Peter lowers his eyebrows in confusion and wills his eyes to open – when did he even close them? – so he can see the owner of the familiar voice.

“There we go. He’s alive! A true miracle.”

Peter nearly closes his eyes again, because obviously he’s still dreaming. There is no way that Tony freaking Stark is kneeling in front of him, stroking his hair, and gently coaxing him awake. Not possible.

“Yeah, it’s me, kiddo,” Tony says, obviously reading the surprise on his face. “To be fair, I’m probably just as surprised at this development as you are, but your friend Ted, here –“ he gestures to said teen who offers nothing more than a shrug “ –called Happy saying that you’re dying, and we just happened to be in the area, and I also happen to be a superhero. So.”

Unreal, Peter thinks, and closes his eyes, ready to let unconsciousness swallow him whole.

“Ah ah – no. Nap time for the spider baby later,” Tony jokes, but Peter cracks his eyes open to see the worry lining his mentor’s face. “I say we blow this popsicle stand.”

Peter nearly sags with relief at how good that sounds. He’d do just about anything to sleep. But then he remembers why he’d been so determined not to stay home in the first place.

“I can’t!” he protests, finally speaking up. “Calc. Integration.”

Tony stares at him in disbelief, and then turns to Ned, who’s still watching the exchange with a look of awe.

“Did he just say what I think he just said?” he asks incredulously.

Ned just gives him a long-suffering look and nods. “Yeah. He’s dumb.”

Tony scoffs. “That’s an overstatement,” he grumbles under his breath. Louder, he says, “Peter, you do realize that you’re literally talking to a genius, right? An actual engineer who literally built a flying suit? And the arc reactor? I think I can teach you some damn calculus. Goodness gracious.”

Peter just blinks at him. “Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh,” Tony repeats, but he can’t help surge of utter fondness that rushes through him at the sight of the tired kid, still pressing into the hand in his hair.

“Come on. Happy’s waiting for us. I’ve never actually dealt with a sick – anything – before, so this’ll be a great learning experience for the both of us,” Tony says conversationally. He gets up, groaning at the ache in his knees, and takes Peter’s bag from Ned.

Peter immediately lets out a whine at the loss of contact. The noise strikes a chord deep within Tony, and he tries not to think too hard about it.

“Sorry, kid. Come on, up you go,” he encourages, hoisting the kid to his feet. Peter sways tiredly on his feet, and Tony is quick to steady him.

“Whoa, I got you,” Tony soothes. He runs a quick hand over the kid’s forehead and lets out a low whistle at the heat that meets his hand. “Sleep. You need lots of it. So do I, actually. What do you say we get to Happy before the evil man makes us walk?”

Peter smiles weakly and nods, stumbling beside his mentor, thoughts going blurry again as they make their way to the front of the school.

As promised, Happy is waiting for them, and it takes a little while longer to wrestle the kid’s lanky limbs into the car and across the backseat. Again, Peter lets out a whimper at the loss of contact, and Tony coughs to cover the soft smile that’s threatening to appear as he slides in next to the teen.

And if his hands end up back in Peter’s hair?

Well, no one ever has to know.

-

It was a stupid argument, if you could even call it that. Really, it was just Flash being a dumbass, as usual. Which, usually is a thing that Peter can handle – is used to handling – but today is just not one of those days.

Patrol last night had been rough, more mentally taxing than usual. Peter’s not exactly sure what about it made it so, but it left him wired up with an anxiety that followed him into sleep, prompting unwelcome nightmares and flashbacks of a variety he hadn’t experienced in a while.

Truth be told, he knows it’s kind of his own fault. He’s been overworking himself, staying out longer and longer as Spider-Man, coming back by May’s curfew only to sneak out hours later when he hears her breathing even out.

Then he comes back and works on homework and studying, getting a mere two or three hours of fitful sleep, surviving mostly on coffee and pure, stubborn willpower throughout the day. This all does nothing to calm the ever-growing wave of anxiety.

So, to be fair, this was probably a long time coming.

Flash just happened to be the catalyst.

Peter and Ned sat in their usual spot in the cafeteria, Peter comparing his homework answers with Ned’s. When Flash walks up, Peter immediately tenses, already preparing himself for an onslaught of insults.

(And how stupid is that? He’s Spider-Man and yet he’s reduced to nothing at the mercy of a stupid high school bully.)

“Hey, Penis! Ready to get your ass beat in the science fair this weekend?” Flash mocks. And to be honest, Peter finished his project weeks ago in the confines of Tony’s lab, analyzing how robotics can be used to enhance prosthetics and make them more effective and efficient.

And, at this point, he’s so tired, he doesn’t actually care who wins. He never did, really.

“Isn’t ‘Penis’ a little old by now? Surely you can be more inventive than that,” Peter taunts. And yeah, maybe not his smartest move ever, but whatever.

Flash flounders for a second, unsure of how to respond, before his face clears again. “I could, but this one suits you best. It’s kind of iconic, don’t you think?”

“Hey, Flash, you know what’s funny?” Ned steps in suddenly, and Peter groans. “How Peter’s smart enough to land an internship with Stark Industries, and you haven’t even heard back yet.”

Flash flushes with a mixture of embarrassment and anger. “Yeah, and how much do you suppose your little sidekick has to pay just to polish Tony Stark’s shoes? You know, there’s actually been speculation that there’s a something a little more – should we say? – kinky going on there,” Flash says with a suggestive smirk, and Peter immediately sees red at the very implication of his hero doing something like that.

“Shut the fuck up, Flash,” Peter snarls angrily, and Flash narrows his eyes at him coldly.

“What was that, Penis?”

Peter stands up, well and truly angry now. “I said ‘Shut up.’ You don’t know anything about him. And I’m sorry you couldn’t get an internship with him when I could, but I guess Stark Industries knows talent when it – “

A sudden flash of cold and wet leaves Peter sputtering. He barely registers the fact that Flash is standing in front of him, the cup in his hand totally empty, because the wave of anxiety that’s been building up the last few days decides then and there to pull Peter under.

No longer is he in his high school cafeteria. No, he’s back in the lake, alone and tangled and trying so hard to break free of his confines. The water is cold, seeps straight to his very bones, and against his will, his lungs take a desperate breath in, but all he gets is more water.

He can’t fucking breathe.

God, what if he dies like this? Just a useless body floating on a lake, and maybe it’ll be days before he’s found, and May – oh god, May! – will be left completely alone to deal with another bout of grieving.

And Peter – god, he doesn’t want to die, he’s not ready to do that yet, he’s supposed to graduate and watch the next Star Wars movie release with Ned and there are so many more people he needs to save, and also he’s just plain scared.

If only he could breathe.

“Peter!”

The unexpected and familiar voice shocks him, and he flails towards it, hoping it’ll bring him closer to the surface.

“I’m right here, bud, it’s okay. You’re okay. I’ve got you,” the voice tells him, and it sounds so convincing and real and soothing that he tries with everything in him to believe it.

“Hey, it’s me – Tony. I’m right next to you, and we’re both in your crappy school cafeteria,” the voice – Tony – informs him, and Peter frowns in confusion because Tony shouldn’t be here, he’s going to drown, too.

“Tony,” he gasps, hands finding purchase in warm fabric. Dry. It’s dry! But – what?

“Yeah, kiddo, it’s me. Open your eyes and look at me. It’s okay, I promise,” Tony coaxes him. And because he’s never had a reason not to trust him mentor, Peter cracks his eyes open, immediately cringing at the water that drips into his eyes.

“That’s it, good job,” Tony encourages, and Peter tries to let the sight of his mentor drown out the feel of water burning his nose.

“Mr. Stark?” he asks in a small voice. “W-what? I-I don’t – “

“Shhh, it’s all fine. You’re at school. You had a pretty bad panic attack. Your aunt wasn’t picking up, so they called me,” Tony explains. Peter takes in everything around him, drinking in the sight of the now completely empty cafeteria, save for him and Tony.

“I didn’t – I didn’t mean – I’m so sorry, Mr. Stark,” Peter says, cheeks flushing red with shame. Tony gives him an incredulous look.

“Peter,” he says gently, reaching out to tilt the boy’s face up. “Look at me. You didn’t do anything wrong. You never have to apologize for something like this.” Tony’s gaze darkens suddenly. “The only person who should be apologizing for anything is the childish, cruel, immature bully who did this to you.”

Peter opens his mouth to protest. “No – it wasn’t his fault! He didn’t know that would happen.”

“And that makes it okay?” Tony scoffs. “No, kid. That’s all on him.”

Peter stays silent, not willing to admit the man is right, as usual. Tony studies him for a moment, then lets out a heavy sigh.

“How are you feeling now?” he asks the teen.

“Fine,” Peter lies instinctively. Tony just raises an eyebrow at him. “I don’t know. That – that wasn’t supposed to happen. Usually I have it under control,” he says, looking frustrated.

“It?” Tony prompts.

Peter tugs anxiously on his shoelace. “I guess sometimes I still think about the lake? Because I was tangled and stuck and it was – “ He cuts off, throat closing abruptly. Tony puts a hand on his shoulder, grounding him.

“Scary,” Tony finishes for him. Peter just looks down. Tony sighs again, looking more tired than ever. “Pete, you gotta keep me in the loop with these things. And if not me, then May or Ned or someone you trust. It’s okay to feel like this. Hell, I’m scared all the damn time.”

Peter looks surprised at the confession. “What?”

Tony laughs bitterly. “How do you think I became Iron Man in the first place? It was because I’m scared. My suit? It literally just started out as a physical manifestation of my anxiety.”

“Does it get better?” Peter asks, and he looks so small in this moment that Tony’s heart cracks right down the middle.

Tony hesitates before answering. “Yeah, kid. It does. But it takes a while, and it might not ever go completely away. You just have to communicate with us. Think you can do that?” Tony asks, looking Peter straight in the eye.

Peter swallows thickly and nods. “Yeah.”

Tony looks intently at him for another moment and then nods in satisfaction. He moves to get up and groans. “Fantastic. I think all that emotion just gave me heartburn,” he complains, rubbing his chest dramatically.

Peter smiles, the somber atmosphere broken. “Or maybe you’re just old,” he jokes.

Tony pretends to look offended. “Rude. Offensive. You owe me one whole compliment for that.”

“Nope,” Peter says. Tony nudges him gently.

“Oh, come on. No nice things to say about your favorite superhero?”

“Who said you’re my favorite superhero?” Peter smirks deviously.

Tony’s eyes widen in mock hurt as Peter gets up and starts to walk out without him. “Two compliments! Now you owe me two!” Tony calls as he walks after him.

And Peter’s answering laugh? Totally worth it.

-

First of all, the fact that aliens decided to attack New York City during school hours? Rude.

Which is Peter’s first thought when Tony calls him right before his fourth class of the day. It goes a little something like this:

“Kid. We’ve got aliens attacking New York – again, don’t they ever learn? – and it’s all hands on deck,” Tony informs him.

Immediately, Peter lights up with excitement, already feeling the first shots of adrenaline at even the thought of fighting with the Avengers again.

“Yes, of course!” he gasps excitedly, making a beeline for his locker to grab his suit.

“Great, meet us at – “

“Hey, loser,” MJ greets, not caring that Peter’s on the phone. “Where are your safety glasses? You need them for lab today.”

“Shit,” Peter mutters, feeling his heart drop to his feet, because normally, hell yeah, he’d skip class to go fight with the freaking Avengers! Except today’s lab counts as one of three big exam grades and he literally cannot miss it.

“What was that?” Tony asks, sounding preoccupied.

“Uh, Mr. Stark? Can the emergency wait, like, an hour?” Peter stammers. Immediately Tony’s full attention goes back to the teen.

“What?” he demands sharply. “Why?” There’s a pause in which Peter is more than reluctant to answer, but Tony catches on quickly and groans. “Oh, Jesus Christ. Let me guess: Spanish test?”

“Chem lab,” Peter mumbles. He can practically hear Tony rolling his eyes.

“Kid, you can make it up. New York needs you right now,” Tony says matter-of-factly.

“But, Mr. Stark! I won’t be able to make this up, she said the only way we can miss it is if we’re in the hospital dying or it’s an extreme emergency,” Peter protests.

“So aliens aren’t an emergency now?” Tony deadpans.

“I mean, yeah, but I can’t exactly go up to her and say that I need to leave for something like that!” Peter says delicately, conscious of MJ standing nearby with a bored expression. “Anywho, I’ll be there in like an hour tops, I promise,” he says quickly before hanging up, and oh boy, he’s going to get an earful for that later.

Immediately, his phone starts buzzing again but he stuffs it in his bookbag hastily. MJ gives him a weird look.

“Your boss is fucking weird,” she comments.

“Tell me about it,” Peter mutters as they walk into class.

They sit down at one of the lab benches and wait for their teacher to start giving them instructions. Today’s lab is the Synthesis of Aspirin, and yeah, nothing they’ve done so far is nearly as cool or advanced as his web fluid or the stuff he makes in Tony’s lab, but he’s still excited. And nervous. Because he really needs a good grade on this.

Once instructions are given, Peter and MJ start methodically setting up lab equipment. Peter’s getting the hot water bath ready while MJ measures out the salicylic acid when a sudden hush falls over the room.

Curious, Peter and MJ both look up to see what’s going on and Peter immediately wishes the ground would swallow him whole.

Tony is standing in the doorway.

He strolls in with calm strides and a casual confidence and walks right up to the teacher.

“Hello, Dr. Mead. I’m terribly sorry, but we need to take Peter out of class. There’s an emergency at Stark Industries, and it’s sort of all hands on deck. He’s our best intern, after all,” he says charmingly.

She looks flustered in a way that Peter never imagined he would ever see of his usually very collected teacher.

“Um, I understand, but this lab is an exam. Is there any way it can wait after?” she asks hopefully, and honestly, Peter admires her for not just immediately caving into him.

Then Tony takes off his trademark sunglasses and looks at her with such a stern look that Peter immediately resolves to buy her the best teacher appreciation gift ever.

“I’m afraid not. This is a matter of utmost importance. Surely you have make-up labs?” he asks in such a way that implies the only correct answer is yes.

Dr. Mead opens her mouth as if to protest before finally just settling on saying nothing at all, before turning to the back of the class, where Peter is resisting the urge to hide under the lab bench.

“Mr. Parker, you may be excused. We can discuss make-up times later,” she announces, and Tony smirks, triumphant.

Peter’s face burns with embarrassment as he grabs his bag and walks out the room, feeling everyone’s eyes on him.

Tony ruffles his hair, and Peter swats at it in mock irritation.

“Was that all really necessary?” Peter demands when they’re alone in the hall. Tony shrugs.

“Nah. But then you hung up on me, and I’m petty,” he says. “But actually, I was already on my way to come get you. Cap, Nat, and Rhodes have got the situation contained, but they could really use some help, and we’re the only ones around.”

Peter, now that he’s not so worried about his grade, perks up with excitement again. “Man, this is so exciting!”

Tony gives him a fond look. Only Peter would find an alien attack exciting.

“Sure, kid. Now let’s go kick some alien ass.”

-

At first, there’s nothing to indicate why Peter’s spidey sense is suddenly going off like a blaring alarm.

His whole body is seizing with panic, everything in him screaming danger! But he strains his ears to listen for anything out of the ordinary and turns up empty, so he just shrugs and chalks it up to his anxiety going into overdrive.

Later on, he’ll hate himself for it.

Not even five minutes later, deep he hears it, clear as day: the crack of a bullet, one after another.

He shoots up in his desk, on high alert, and everyone around him starts looking around in confusion, not really comprehending the noise. For a second, he’s right along with them, not quite willing to believe that he’s hearing what he’s hearing, because no fucking way is this happening right now.

Then he hears the scream.

It cuts through the haze of the confusion that had clouded the room, and immediately Mr. Johnson runs to the door, knocking off the lights and covering the door window, and everyone is pushing to the back of the room.

Peter takes the moment of chaos to grab his suit out of his bag, and quietly slips out the other window, hoping that everyone was too preoccupied to notice.

“Hello, Peter,” Karen greets pleasantly.

“Karen!” Peter says urgently. “Call 911 and tell them there’s a shooter at Midtown. Contact Mr. Stark. Activate Stealth Mode.”

“Got it,” she says, and then a silence follows wherein Peter assumes she’s following his directions.

Without further pause, Peter quickly follows the sounds of students screaming and gunshots, praying and praying that no one’s bit hit.

“Peter,” Karen says, “Mr. Stark says to stay put; he and some of the crew are on the way, and so are the police. You are not to engage with the shooter.”

All it takes is another piercing scream for Peter to decide that’s definitely not what he’s going to do. He can hear students near the exits evacuating, but as he goes deeper into the school, it becomes eerily quiet. He tries not to focus on the hundreds of heartbeats skyrocketing in fear.

He rounds a corner and finds a student curled up under a water fountain, shaking and crying. She jumps and whimpers in fear when he enters her line of sight, eyes flooding with relief when she realizes who he is.

“Sp-Spider-Man,” she gasps, tears streaming down her face. He quickly shushes her, not wanting to draw any attention to them in case the intruder is nearby.

She shakes her head insistently. “H-He already c-came by. He’s at-at the classrooms b-by the audi-auditorium.”

Peter nods in determination. “I’ll take care of it. You need to stay hidden. If other people start running, join them. Stay quiet. You’re doing so good.”

And fuck, Peter doesn’t even know if that’s the right advice, because this is so much different than anything he’s ever dealt with before. These are his classmates – his friends – who’s lives are being threatened.

As he nears the auditorium, everything seems more still and foreboding, and he can hear a single set of footsteps walking calmly across the floor. Peter leaps up to the ceiling and rounds another corner.

He nearly falls back down at the sight that meets him.

The first door to his right his open, a body lay strewn in the doorway, and something in Peter’s brain shuts down, absolutely refuses to acknowledge the reality of the sight before his, refuses to go into the room in fear of what else he might find.

He hears gasps and soft sobs, but he pushes it all away and lets his gaze zero in on the figure at the end of the hall, gun raised towards another classroom.

The sound of the bullet, this time, is deafening, and Peter wastes no time before crawling until he’s just above the figure.

In the blink of an eye, Peter’s on top of him, wrestling the gun out of his grip and punching the guy with a ferocity that’s unfamiliar. He hits. And hits and hits and hits, because this guy attacked the wrong fucking school and those are Peter’s friends.

Peter sees red, flashes of anger and blood and oh god his friends, are they okay? And it hits him, suddenly, the gravity of everything that’s happened in the last ten minutes, the way his school will never be the same because of one person’s decision.

“Spider-Man, stand down,” a voice cuts through the haze, but he ignores it in favor of tossing another punch, but before he can, a metal hand wraps itself around his wrist.

“No!” he snarls. “This one deserves it!” He fights against the arms that wrap around his waist, thrashing against the hold.

“Kid. It’s me, Tony. It’s okay. It’s going to be okay. We’ll take care of him, you’ve done great. Your job here is done.”

With those words, Peter sags against his mentor, allowing the hard armor to support him and the weight of everything to sink in.

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you,” Tony says, gently picking the young hero up and letting the police come in and take over. No one even bothers to question him. It’s common knowledge that Spider-Man and Iron Man are close, and no one is willing to get him in trouble for beating the shit out of someone who deserved it.

Tony cradles the kid’s head to his chest, no longer caring who sees, only focusing on getting Peter out of there. Steve, Sam, and Natasha can handle the rest, he figures. There are cops everywhere, and scared students are being rushed out in a line to meet desperate parents waiting for them outside.

Happy is waiting for them, and Tony has never been more grateful for his status as Iron Man than now; no one tries to stop him.

Tony quickly deactivates his suit and gets the kid in, settling them both into the back seat, and Happy wastes no time trying to push his car through the crowd, glancing back at the duo with deep worry etched into his features.

Peter hasn’t said a word, and they’re halfway back to the Tower, where May is meeting them, when the teen starts shaking violently, clinging to Tony.

“Oh god,” Peter sobs, pulling his mask off, and Tony absolutely breaks at the raw terror and grief on the kid’s face as the weight of what’s happened hits him. “Tony,” he gasps, pulling his mentor closer.

Tony wraps his arms around the kid, hugging him with an unprecedented fervor. “Shhh, it’s okay now. I’m right here.”

But Peter’s hyperventilating now, tears soaking the man’s shirt. “I-I couldn’t – I was too late. I think – I think – Tony, I saw – “ and he doesn’t get past that, because he can’t. He can’t make the words push past his lips.

If he doesn’t say them, maybe they won’t be true.

Instead, he squeezes his eyes shut and presses his face into Tony’s chest, crying violently.

And Tony? Tony doesn’t know what else to do other than murmur soft words of comfort that he knows are falling on deaf ears. So he settles back in his seat, Peter practically in his lap, and runs his fingers soothingly through the kid’s hair. It’s going to be a long road to recovery, he knows.

But he’s in this for the long haul.

-

“No.”

Tony stands against his desk, arms crossed and sending a flat look to Pepper, who’s looking at him with an equally determined expression on his face.

“Tony, come on,” she says in exasperation. “He’d be thrilled, and if nothing else, it’d be great PR. I think people would really like seeing you be so invested in an intern, personally taking him for a deeper look at what you do.”

Tony rolls his eyes. “Pep, Peter’s already seen what I do. Hell, he practically lives in the lab after school. He literally has his own room here.”

“Sure, but he only ever sees Tony, his hero, mentor, and father figure.” Tony opens his mouth to protest that last label, but Pepper cuts him off. “Shut up, it’s true and you know it. Now, as I was saying, I think it’d be really beneficial for him to see you as Tony Stark, a business man, company owner, and employer.”

“The answer is still no!” Tony says.

And yet somehow, that conversation led up to now, with Peter standing awkwardly at his side at eight in the morning, staring at the main floor of Stark Industries with awe on Take Your Kid to Work Day.

“Mr. Stark, thisissocool!” Peter exclaims in one big breath. Around him, workers are bustling about. Tony, quite frankly, can’t believe he’s never taken his fake intern into the main part of his building. A careless oversight. It’s impressive, really, that the whole “internship” story has managed to hold up for this long.

“Whoa, calm down, kid,” he says, watching the kid fondly as he practically buzzes with excitement. Peter looks at him with wide eyes.

“What are we going to do today? Are you going to boss a bunch of people around? Build stuff? Paperwork? Now that I think about it, what do you even do?” Peter asks, sounding breathless. Tony just shakes his head in awe, wondering how after all this time, the kid can look at him like he hung the moon.

(And he would. He’d hang a thousand moons if that’s what Peter wanted.)

“Well, first of all, Pepper’s usually the one who bosses me around, so I’m sure you’ll get to see some of that today. We have a press conference at one. Oh, don’t worry, it’s no big deal. We’ll introduce you as one of SI’s interns and explain that I decided to take this day, when a lot of other kids would be around, to show you the ins and outs of what I do. They’ll love it,” he reassures.

And they do.

But Tony’s not surprised, really. The kid has a way of getting everyone wrapped around his finger.

Peter, awkward and nervous at first, quickly gains a bit of confidence, occasionally answering a reporter’s questions with typical teenage sass, but always with a soft smile so as not to offend.

“How did you two meet?” one curious reporter asks. Tony puts a hand on Peter’s shoulder.

“Well, this one here is a huge dumpster diver. I actually got an opportunity to see his skills at fixing and making tech with natural ease, so I encouraged him to fill out an application for the internship. His application was outstanding, to say the least, and the rest, as they say, is history,” Tony says with a smile.

“Peter, were you a fan of Iron Man even before the internship?” another reporter asks.

Peter laughs. “I mean, who wasn’t? But really, I was always a bigger fan of Mr. Stark himself. The work he’s done to create a clean source of renewable energy? That’s insane! I can only dream of making strides like that. I watched a documentary on his robots over the years when I was younger, and I remember thinking, ‘I want to be like him!’ It’s actually what led me to start dumpster diving and fixing old tech. I never even imagined it could lead me to work under the man who inspired me.”

Peter shrugs, missing Tony’s stunned gaze trained on him, while the reporters listen with rapt attention.

“So yeah. Iron Man is amazing and all, but the real hero is the man underneath the suit, which I think people like to forget. The suit isn’t heroic – it’s the man underneath it that is.”

Tony is speechless. Absolutely speechless and completely overcome with an emotion he can’t quite identify as Peter looks over at him and offers him a shy small, as if worried he’s maybe said something wrong.

Tony’s throat clogs with the amounting of affection he has for the awkward, precious, genius, and selfless fucking kid, and he’s nearly knocked off his chair by the force of it. He clears his throat roughly, before addressing the crowd that’s busy melting.

“As you can see,” he says, wrapping an arm around the teen. “I brainwash my interns well.”

The crowd laughs, and the spell of emotion is broken.

However, when Tony goes down to his lab that night, long after Peter’s been dropped back off at home by Happy, he finds a sticky note attached to one of his computers, the messy scrawl deeply familiar.

There’s only four words, but they make Tony’s heart swell in his chest.

I meant every word. -P

[turtle-steverogers]

al is ripped and race is whipped

oof some Not Angst for once

warnings: implied steamy situation

editing: no

ship: ralbert

Albert looked up from his phone, laughing when he saw his best friend being wheeled in from the operation room, heart-shaped bandaid on his forehead and socks on his hands. He was smiling goofily around a straw that was protruding haphazardly from a can of Ginger Ale.

“Hi, Albie!” He exclaimed, earning amused glances from surrounding people. He turned his head to look up at the nurse that was pushing him, “That’s my best friend, Albert!”

The nurse nodded, a fond smirk gracing her features, “So I’ve heard,” they approached, Race looking around wide eyed as they stopped in front of Albert, “He wouldn’t stop talking about you the entire way back down here,” the nurse finished.

Albert felt a blush creep up his neck and he looked down at Race, “He’s something else.”

“Sure is,” the nurse agreed, “He liked his hospital socks, but didn’t want to wear them with his sandals so he put them on his hands, instead.”

Albert snickered, earning a questioning stare from Race.

“What’re you laughing at?” Race asked, struggling to get the straw in his mouth a few times before taking a long drink.

“You,” Albert commented, eyes crinkling.

“Oh,” Race giggled, mirroring Albert’s blush, “Am I funny?”

Albert nodded, “When you’re hopped up on laughing gas, yeah.”

“Anywho,” the nurse interjected, holding out a small bag for Albert to take, “These are his pain meds, make sure he takes them hourly for the first six hours he’s home, then every two hours after that for a day.”

Albert slipped the bag into his backpack, taking the wheelchair handles from the nurse, “Thank you very much, ma’am.”

“My pleasure,” she smiled kindly.

“Yeah, thanks bro! Fist bump,” Race stuck his tongue between his teeth, holding up an unsteady fist for the nurse to bump.

“You’re welcome, bro,” She winked, giving him one last wave before leaving down the hallway.

“How’re you feeling?” Albert asked Race as he pushed him out of the hospital and through the parking lot to his car.

“Alive, man, I feel great!” Race said, voice gaining volume slightly on the last word.

Albert looked down at him, “I’m glad.” he tried to ignore the butterflies that manifested in his stomach upon seeing Race in this state. He had been doing well in hiding his newly developed crush on his best friend and roommate recently, but seeing him in his current sedated state was increasingly adorable and Albert couldn’t help but fall harder.

“Alright,” Albert said, bringing the wheelchair to a stop by the passenger side door to the car, “We’re here, chief, we gotta get you up.”

Race pouted, “My legs feel like jello, though.”

“I know,” Albert said, taking the ginger ale out of Race’s socked grip and opening the door to place the can in the cupholder, “I’ll help you, don’t worry.”

“Okay!” Race said, lifting his arms like a child, making Albert laugh. He bent down and hugged Race around his torso, straightening his legs slowly to hoist the other man up. It took some maneuvering, but eventually Race was secure in the passenger seat.

Albert made to let go, but Race grabbed his bicep, eyes bulging once more, “Holy shit, dude, you’re ripped!” Albert swallowed, staring down at where Race’s hand was gripping his arm, “If I had known you could throw me on the bed with one arm, I’da fucked you by now, I mean,” he paused and scrunched up his nose in thought, unaware of the Albert’s incredulous expression, “I would fuck you, anyway, ‘cause you’re hot, but now I’d definitely bottom.”

“Oookay, buddy,” Albert interrupted, pulling his arm out of Race’s hold, “Let’s getcha home and into bed.”

“Only if you come with me.”

“Oh my god, you’re high,” Albert rolled his eyes, shutting the passenger door and crossing to the driver’s side. He climbed in, turning on the bluetooth and handing Race his phone, “Pick something.”

Race nodded, putting on his ‘intense concentration’ face as he pulled up ‘All Star’ by Smash Mouth on YouTube.

“Oh, Jesus,” Albert mumbled as the beginning played and Race began singing along loudly. The rest of the car ride was spent with Race putting on various songs and performing them off-key. By the time they got back to their apartment, Race had worn himself out and was dozing against the window, still mumbling along to the music in his haze.

Albert helped him out of the car and back into the wheelchair, wheeling him into the building. They took the elevator to their floor, Race talking to himself quietly about ‘meerkats’ and Albert mostly zoning out, thinking about what Race had said in the parking lot. Did he truly return Albert’s feelings? Or had it been a medicine induced infatuation? Would he remember what he’d said to Albert after the medicine wore off? Should Albert bring it up?

He shook the thoughts from his head as they approached their apartment and fumbled with his key for a few moments before entering. He situated Race on the couch, ignoring his protests against sleeping, and went to his room to do some homework.

About an hour later, he heard a knock at his door.

“Yeah,” He called over his shoulder, flipping through his textbook to check his answers. His door opened and he swiveled around in his desk chair to see Race, hands still in their socks, standing in his doorway.

“You seem to be moving around better,” Albert commented, raising his eyebrows.

Race nodded, “Yeah, the medicine wore off,” he seemed nervous and was rubbing his hands together through the fabric of the socks, “Uh, did I really…” he trailed off, looking at Albert for the first time, “Did I really, uh, tell you..”

“That you wanna fuck me?” Albert finished, biting back a smile.

Race flinched, looking sheepish, “Yeah.”

“You did,” Albert said, standing and crossing over to Race, “But don’t worry,” Race’s head snapped up, hope glinting in his eyes, “The feeling’s mutual.”

Race breathed out a laugh, studying Albert’s face for a few moments, before surging forward and kissing him, hands reaching up to rest on his jaw.

Albert reciprocated, warmth spreading through his chest and expanding through his body until his entire being felt like it was on fire. Kissing Race was better than he’d imagined. The other man’s lips were soft, yet commanding, and he melted into the feeling. They pulled apart, panting as they stared into each other’s eyes.

“Race?” Albert whispered, breath ghosting Race’s lips.

“Hm?”

“Get your socks off my face.”

Race blushed, deep scarlet, and he hastily tugged off the socks, “Sorry, sorry,” he mumbled.

Albert took his bare hands, placing them on his waist, “That’s okay,” he said, kissing Race again briefly, before asking, “So, what’s this about you being a bottom?”

Race’s eyes widened and a smirk settled on his face, “Only for you, Dasilva.”

-

idiots oof

thanks for reading, chiefs

hmu to be added to my tag

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[jakganim]

it’s the last day of january i made it just in time to write my jojo journal entry lmaO

ANYWHO. so 2018 huh. we all know 2017 was a shitfest. and if it wasn’t for any of you then i’m honestly genuinely glad it wasn’t. because it sure fucking was for me :’)) i’m glad that’s over. honestly speaking 2018 did not start off great either. actually it sucked. like terribly. i will delve into that later but it’s not a fun subject, be warned. either way, i guess my feelings from 2017 were kind of leaking into 2018 and i just wasn’t surprised.

despite the bad news, i suppose there’s some good news too. despite the fact that shit really actually went and fucking hit the fucking fan, i feel oddly good about 2018. i feel like it’s just... my year. i have faith in myself and my life, my direction, even if i don’t know where it’s going yet. i’m usually that person that never makes new years resolutions. i knew i’d never actually stick to them so i was like lmao why feed into that bullshit and just end up feeling bad when i don’t fulfill them. well strangely enough, i made some really minor resolutions and have been sticking to them very well. and for the first time i feel like i can really stick to them. they’re things that seem little but are actually really big for someone like me who has trouble following through with what i say i’m going to do and sticking to routines. 

so i started with a skincare routine. sounds small and mundane but... those are the things i have trouble keeping the most. i stick to a skincare routine every morning and night now. it’s actually doing things for me. i’m amazed. being able to keep one routine made it easier to start new ones. everyday when i come home or when my parents come home, i hug them and kiss them hello. that’s... really different for me. and it’s big. i’m a huge family person but i’ve never been particularly affectionate or close or open with my parents. we’ve got our issues with each other, especially my mother and i. we clash a lot and last year i was starting to resent her which is never a good sign. but then shit happened and now here we are and i knew that they would never take the first step so i’m trying to do it instead. i can tell they’re happier. i am too. 

for those of you who don’t know, jordan is not my legal name. but it’s going to be. i’ve been wanting to change my name for about 5 years now. i finally filed my name change petition and i’m excited for that. once everything is legally changed and all my documents are updated, i’ll start applying for jobs probably. with my name. my real name. jordan. what a feeling. i’ve never been more excited and proud. it’s like i’m finally me. like stepping out of my skinny jeans and just throwing on a pair of basketball shorts and getting comfy. i’m comfortable. i’ve never felt lighter. ironic considering the weight of a death in the family.

yikes that was a both a great and terrible transition. to whoever reads this, sorry. i just jumped right into it. welp, now’s the time to talk about that i guess. so yeah. in my last jojo journal entry, i mentioned my aunt, who’d had a stroke and was in the hospital. everything was really confusing at the time and we were all just holding our breaths, killing ourselves waiting for her to wake up. she was in nscu for almost a month. kept bleeding in the beginning, wouldn’t wake up, and they couldn’t perform any surgery on her. she was just laying there surviving off the many tubes they had in her. i visited her as much as i could. i stayed in what i like to call emotional limbo for that whole month just so i could keep it the fuck together. it was so hard to cry. i couldn’t cry. i teared up when i saw my cousin (her younger son) that first night i rushed to the hospital. watching his face crumble was what set me off but i couldn’t even cry then. it felt like i suffocated all through december.

she passed away within the first week of january. i wasn’t exactly surprised, and that could be a good or bad thing. idk. they’d moved her to pcu prior to that. essentially a hospice aka they were kind of just waiting for her to die. it was a saturday and i remember being at work when my cousin (another one, my extended family is very big lol) called me and told me to get to the hospital asap because she wouldn’t make it through the hour. but she sounded so confused, so unsure, that i too could not help but feel anxious. should i leave work early? should i not? i paced back and forth for a while, juggling answering phone calls and text messages from different cousins, all telling me the same thing but all being really vague about it. my boss didn’t even know my aunt was in the hospital for the past month. i didn’t know how to tell him. but eventually it got urgent. i asked him to let me leave. i know i could’ve just told him my aunt was in the hospital and was probably not going to make it. but i felt like saying it would make it happen so i didn’t, just told him i had a family emergency and needed to go. he tried to guilt me into staying by telling me we had a lot of reservations. i wanted to look him in the eye and tell him my aunt was dying and that i was fucking leaving whether he liked it or not. with those exact words. but i knew it would just make him feel bad and hurt myself in the process, so i didn’t. i left before i could snap at him.

i checked my phone as i got in the car and i was getting frantic messages from a close friend of mine. she sounded really distressed and bad things were happening. i had to sit back and breathe bcos i was scared for my aunt, scared for my friend, and it felt like i was getting hit by two trucks back to back and i wanted it to stop. but life goes on and i knew this too well and it seems these days the only thing i’m good at is dealing with high stress situations in the moment bcos i texted her back, though it felt off, like i wasn’t myself, like i couldn’t draw up any genuine emotions even though in my mind i knew i cared, so much, so deeply. but responding to her felt like grappling helplessly at loose sand, trying to keep it all in my grasp. in retrospect my brain was working double time to keep me in emotional limbo long enough to get through this situation. i had felt it bubble up for a second that moment i got in the car and checked my messages. my brain was like lmao fuck that, put that shit away.

so i picked up my mom cos she had no car atm and we went to the hospital together. my aunt was already gone when we got there. i had never seen my cousins and other extended family so gloom in my fucking life. they were all standing outside the room either looking like zombies or crying. my mother and i went in to say our goodbyes. my mom cried, unsurprisingly. i teared up for a second at that but once again, nothing happened. for a moment, i was jealous. after that, everything just felt like a haze. i spent a lot of time waving the tissue box at people whenever they needed it. i stared into the room from the hallway a lot. just looked at my aunt. tried to relay my thoughts to her. convey to her that she did well. she lived a good life. that i was proud of her. that i was sorry she had to stay in that hospital for so long. my cousins and i went down to the au bon pain in the lobby bcos they hadn’t eaten yet. we chatted like life was normal. it was a strange experience, yet everything made sense.

after that night, life went by in one crazy blur. i got sick like the next week which bled right into her wake and funeral. i had shit to do and places to go but everything just felt really unimportant. i remember sitting through a 4 hour meeting with my a cappella group’s e-board right before my illness went full out crazy on me. i was just starting to get sick at the time and i spent half the meeting staring at nothing and coughing into my elbow. it was hard to concentrate but i dragged my ass through it and left with a headache and bunch of responsibilities i didn’t feel like attending to. i finally cried after, well, everything. i wanted to tell my friend (the one mentioned earlier who sent me texts) what i was feeling, what i was thinking, and drawing everything back up from that night managed to push me over. it was some good shit. don’t ever let anyone tell you you’re weak for crying. crying is so good for you when you’re emotional. when you’re sad. i was letting go of a lot of things obviously. i needed that. 

and since then, i’ve been doing a lot better. for a while i thought about death a lot. it scared the shit out of me. still does. i, as a living person, am not actually capable of wrapping my head around the concept of death bcos... well, i’m alive. and that scared me more than anything. but after about a week, those thoughts faded. people once told me i handled these situations well but... i’d never actually had to handle “these situations.” not like this. not this close to home. they just came to that conclusion bcos of my personality. but now that i’m here, i’d like to at least try and believe that they’re right. i want to at least try and believe in my strength to overcome, to stay positive no matter what, to do better, to live happier. i have to. it’s my duty in this life. i need to fulfill nothing more than contentment. i want to one day leave this world knowing that i’ve lived. that i was happy no matter what happened. that i enjoyed this life. and hopefully in the process, offered something to the world. part of the reason i’m doing well is also due to the fact that my aunt really did live a pretty good life overall. she travelled a lot and loved to have fun. she had two lovely sons, one of whom got married last year. nobody at that funeral felt like she had any regrets (not that we’d ever REALLY know, but, the thought helps). she was happy. and so i want to be happy too. when the time comes that a funeral is held for me, i want people to think ah yes... jordan lived a goodass life. what a wholesome life. they were happy. i would want to inspire them to live better, just like my aunt inspired me to. and if in the future i have another life, i hope that person feels the same way, does better, lives more, with even more love, more care, and more sunshine coated smiles.

fin. 180131 | 11:27PM

[demondeanismybaby]

Finding Comfort

Pairing: Dean x Reader, Past Reader x OMC

Word Count: 1575

Warnings: Less than protected sex, one night stand, bad sex, drinking and sex, hurt/comfort, angst in beginning

Summary: Reader breaks up with her boyfriend and then ends up drinking too much and having a one night stand, as always, Dean is there to pick up the pieces

A/N: This was done for an anon who requested a very personal story, anywho, Reader where ever you are, I hope this makes you feel a little better. And just know if Dean were here right now, he would be the first one to tell you how wonderful you are and make you feel better. 

“Y/N, can you come in here please?” Dean’s voice called dimly from somewhere down the hallway, probably his room you thought, but you didn’t move right away.

Instead, you were totally focused on nothing more or less than the box that was in your hand, and you weren’t sure what you going to do about it. You knew that you were most likely just being paranoid, one night stands just weren’t really your thing though, and even though you kept telling yourself that you couldn’t be pregnant the thought had gnawed at you so much you had run to the store and bought the pills that you knew could at least give you that amount of certainty you craved.

The worst part wasn’t even the idea you might be pregnant, it was that after all the time you had been with your boyfriend, make that ex-boyfriend you thought bitterly, this slip up wasn’t even because of him.

It had started over the weekend. You had gotten dressed up in the most revealing thing you owned, which wasn’t anything too crazy, but in your own mind, you had it made up that you were partying until everything with your ex was nothing more than a hazy memory.

“Where are you going?” Dean said looking up briefly from the TV screen that his eyes were glued to and when he registered your new look he quickly added, “and what are you wearing?”

“Out,” you replied simply, “some friends are taking me to get a few drinks,” and then with a scowl, you added, “And they are called clothes.”

You ignored the look that crept over Dean’s face and hurried out the door when he told your retreating body, “be careful.”

Drinking was something you only tended to do when you felt like crap and that night was no exception. You slung them back as quickly as you possibly could and soon you were staggering and hanging all over some random guy that you had seen around a few times with the group of friends you tended to go out with.

He probably should have told you no when you asked him to come back to your place, but instead, he just nodded to show his interest. He was drunk too and the both of you were looking for a distraction and nothing more. You had a taxi driver get as close to the bunker as he could manage and then the two of you staggered towards the creepy building where you stayed with the Winchesters tripping over every bit of loose gravel until you finally made it to the door.

You were glad that they boys were already asleep still you made a shushing gesture to your new friend and managed to make your way slowly to your bedroom. As you pushed open the door he quickly decided now was the time to strike, he kissed you sloppily, and when he broke away you couldn’t help but wipe your chin and shiver a little with how grossed out you felt. Still, you wanted to forget the guy you were missing so bad so shaking your head free of any doubts you had you made your way towards the bed. Even with the lights off, you realized that this was going to be one of those nights where you were going to be left feeling less than impressed. He climbed onto the bed after you and you fished in your side table drawer for a condom, which you pressed into his palm.

“Oh yeah,” he said as you heard the tear of the metallic wrapper crinkling.

You rolled your eyes as he took forever to manage to roll the little bit of plastic over his member, and even through the haze of alcohol you had a brief moment where you wondered if what you were doing was really a good idea.

“You ready?” He asked from where he was leaned over you.

“Ready,” you said trying to boost the amount of confidence in your voice.

The sex was terrible, you didn’t even come close to having an orgasm and the guy basically wiggled on top of you for a few minutes before he shouted out into the dark spilling into the condom. You wanted to cry but instead, you just waited for him to pull out of you. When he did your heart rippled with even more sadness as he hopped out of bed quickly and began pulling his clothes on.

“Thanks, babe,” he said as he made his way towards the door, “that was great.”

That was what sealed it, as soon as you heard the snick of the door falling shut behind him, you let out a choking sob. You couldn’t hold it in anymore as your body rocked and shook with the force of your utter sadness. It was terrible, you knew that it hadn’t managed to erase how much you missed your boyfriend, and now you just felt cheap and easy.

The next morning it dawned on you. The little tryst had been just on the borderline of risky and the last thing you needed after that horrible night of sex was a baby with a total stranger. Now here you were looking at the box, trying to read instructions and listening to Dean calling you from down the hall.

Quickly you popped out the two pills and tossed them into your mouth, chasing them with a heavy drink of some water that had been sitting on the edge of your night table.

“Y/N!” Dean was still calling for you.

“I’m coming!” You shouted back as you swallowed down the pills and trotted out of your room glancing around trying to find the source of his yelling.

You found him fairly quickly, just as you had suspected he was sitting on his bed in his room calling out to you but refusing to actually get up and come get you. As you peeked around the corner you saw the way his face lit up with a giant smile at the sight of you, tears started to sting at the edges of your eyes, his happiness felt overwhelming to you.

“Hey?” His face shifted into puzzlement at the onset of your sadness, “are you ok Y/N?”

“I’m fine, what did you want Dean?” You did your best to keep the choked tone in your voice to a minimum.

“Nothing,” he looked taken aback at your appearance, “I just wanted to hang out with you, seriously, what’s wrong?”

In a way you wanted to just run back to your room, another part of you though wanted nothing more than to vent about everything to someone totally impartial. You looked at his face, his worried green eyes peering up at you, and his hand nervously running through his hair, then he got up and walked over to wrap his arms around you. The smell of leather and motor oil hit you like it always did when you were close to Dean, then you totally broke.

Tears spilled out, cascading down to puddle into Dean’s t-shirt and you noticed the way his arms tighten around you just a little bit more as you shook against him. He just stood like that holding you against his chest until your tears lessened on their own, and your agony shifted from huge choking sobs to little sniffles and hiccups.

You pulled away slightly and then you just started talking, telling him every part of the story even ones that you thought might make him cringe, but it felt good just to get it all out of you. It was like cutting open an infected wound and letting all the pus drain out, it was disgusting but also a giant relief.

Finally, you quieted, and you waited for the lecture, how dangerous it was to drink and go home with people you didn’t know, or how you shouldn’t be sleeping with strangers, or whatever it was most definitely going to be.

“Are you ok?”

You looked up at Dean, in his eyes you didn’t see even a trace of anger, just concern and maybe something else but he wasn’t mad.

“It just really sucked,” you sniffed.

“Why don’t you come here?” He said as he sat down on his bed and patted the space next to him.

You climbed into bed beside him and he reached his arm out and wrapped it behind your neck and around your shoulder.

“Dean, is it me?” You asked so quietly you doubted he heard you, then you added, “Am I just unloveable?”

For a second the weight of the silence in the room seemed to be suffocating you.

Then he turned to face you, his forehead crinkled with his look of utmost seriousness.

“You are perfect, wonderful, smart, creative, and beautiful,” each word was said with so much certainty you realized you had actually stopped breathing, “You are an amazing person, and me and Sam, we would be nothing without you.”

You tried to tell Dean thanks, that it meant so much coming from him, but you couldn’t speak.

He seemed to be able to translate the way your mouth was opening and closing though because he pulled you even closer beside him. Leaning his head over he pressed his cheek against the top of your head. You wrapped your arms around his chest wanting to feel the pressure of someone's touch that was solely about comforting you and nothing more.

“I promise,” Dean said softly, “It’s going to be ok.”

For the first time in days though, you realized, you actually believed it.

[anythingstephenking]

Misery Loves (Holding) Company (Hostage)

One of King’s most beloved tales, Misery, is next on my list. Coming off two fantasy stories back-to-back, it was nice to get back into the swing of terror and tribulation, although I am anxious to get to the next Dark Tower.

Misery was a quick read, consumed primarily on my travels to and from Minnesota for the holidays with my family. Let me tell you, if you never visit Minnesota in December, you’re lucky. Even the joy and warmth of my niece and nephew on Christmas morning did not make up for 5 days of negative temperatures. Returning to a 25 degree day in Nashville felt like a visit to the tropics.

Misery was originally planned as a Bachman, and it reads like one. I’ve mentioned previously, but King said this of writing as Bachman: “There’s a place in most of us where the rain is pretty much constant, the shadows are always long, and the woods are full of monsters.”

And that really gets to the crux of what Misery is - a deeply dark place full of monsters in the guise of a overweight manic-depressive named Annie Wilkes.

The running speculation is that King wrote this novel as a window into his own most personal fear - being typecast as a horror writer, being allowed to write nothing else, then being punished for this by being held captive by a cuckoo-bananas fan. For me, this seems like an easy out. Actually having read everything King has written before Misery, the range of his writing is broad enough to call phooey. Even if people were disappointed in Eyes of the Dragon, The Stand, The Talisman and Dark Tower books were all well received even though they are decidedly “un-King” like. When you add in his novellas and short stories like Shawshank and The Body, you can’t say that, even in 1987, that King is strictly a horror writer. Any of his fans would know this.

This coupon was tucked inside my McKay’s copy. If only I could time travel back 30 years to New Mexico I could get a free Dr. Pepper!

What this story is really about, and what makes it a Bachman, is that King is writing it from his dark place. Our hero, writer Paul Sheldon, becomes trapped in a place in which he can not escape. Physically, he can not escape from Annie, but mentally he can not escape from his dependance on the painkillers Annie feeds him. He goes as far as to escape from his locked bedroom, not in an attempt to escape her house (at first) but to search for more pills to squirrel away under his mattress. Paul craves his dope and agrees to most anything that Annie asks him to do, so long as she brings him his pills. Almost 30 years before the opioid epidemic will transform the national conversation about prescription drugs, King’s words warn of the dangers of dependency that is rooted in his own struggles. The deeply personal nature of this addiction makes Misery pure agony to read.

It’s hard to read Misery without picturing Kathy Bates as Annie. She won an Oscar for her performance, so I suppose it could be worse. Annie is the perfect villain - a rather unassuming, overweight older woman, who hates swearing and says things like “cockadoodlie” and “fiddle-de-foof.” My favorite thing she says is, and I quote: “You can have a couple of loads of double-ought buck up your cockadoodie bumhole if you don’t get out of here!” She could be my grandma.

Turns out she’s also an insane person that hits herself when she’s depressed and kidnaps authors.

While in captivity, Annie makes Paul write a novel just for her. Paul writes garbagey victorian era nonsense, staring the heroine Misery Chastain. Now THAT’S a name. We get to read a few passages of this new work, and yeah, it’s garbagey for sure. Good ol’ Annie loves it so much she names her barnyard pig Misery. I mean, I named my cat Lucille Bluth, but I’m not kidnapping Jessica Walter anytime soon.

Paul equates his situation to that of Scheherazade, which I had to google - my notes said “look up who the heck Scheherazade is”. It starts like any good story does - back in the olden-days, there was a King who would marry a virgin, bed her, then kill her the next day so she couldn’t cheat on him. What a paranoid dumpster person. Scheherazade comes along and marries him, and rather than sleep with the King, tells him a story. As the sun rises, she ends on a cliffhanger, and the King needs to keep her alive until the next night. This goes on and on, until eventually the King is in love with her and decides not to murder her. What a hopeless romantic.

Anywho, Paul gets himself into a real Scheherazade situation, using his book to keep himself alive. But this ain’t some misoginistic fairy tale from the 16th century. At some point his novel will be done and he isn’t going to ride off into the sunset with Annie Wilkes. At some point, Paul realizes he’s Scheherazade-ing himself, through his hope and desire for more drugs and less pain. It’s a surprising moment of clarity that you know is how King himself feels himself as he writes this book.

Even after escaping Annie physically, Paul is still haunted by her, as he craves his bed-drugs as the book ends and self medicates with lots of booze. Even though the hero prevails, it’s still a downer of ending. Bachman through and through.

I jotted down this quote from King that was on the DVD extras of the new IT movie. “The thing about fiction is, you take all the reality that you can possibly take, and then you change everything that you want.”

I think King certainly accomplishes this in Misery.

9/10 - if it was a Bachman, it’d be my favorite

First Line: umber whunnn

yerrrnnn umber whunnn

fayunnn

These sounds: even in the haze.

Last line: Now my tale is told.

Adaptations

This movie is Kathy Bates and only Kathy Bates, which is a-ok with me. Actually, I take that back. Richard Farnsworth as the sheriff (aka Matthew from Anne of Green Gables aka the greatest adoptive pseudo-father in literary history, the dress had puffy sleeves for cripes sake!) adds a fair bit of comic relief, along with his deputy/wife Frances Sternhagen (aka Bunny from Sex and the City aka the worst mother-in-law in cable sitcom history).

While the novel is Paul and Annie alone until the end, the movie tacks on a few other characters to get the viewer out of the house. Which unfortunately does mean that claustrophobic feeling that lingers throughout the novel doesn’t really translate to the big screen. A single location would have been a more interesting choice for the movie, but no one asked my opinion.

King didn’t want Misery made into a movie. After being impressed with Rob Reiner’s adaptation of Stand By Me (which has King’s favorite movie requirement which is that it is very faithful to the source material, obvs) King only agreed to sell the movie rights if Rob Reiner would produce and/or direct. Reiner did indeed do both.

The thing I love about this movie is that it has “the scene.” I love a movie with “the scene” - something so horrifying or traumatic that anyone who discusses the film must bring up “the scene.” I’m weird.

The scene of course, is James Caan getting hobbled and is a truly awful moment. They used gelatin legs to get the right bend. :::shudder:::

If you’ve read the book though you know this is actually SO MUCH WORSE. Rather than breaking Paul’s ankles, Annie cuts one of his feet off with an axe. The description conjured images of James Franco cutting off his arm in 127 Hours and paper cuts make me queasy so it was rough going. Then, at some other point, she cuts off his thumb, really just for the hell of it, cause she’s an insane bananas person.

The Tommyknockers is next!

[thebloodlinereigns]

Love Heals All Wounds (part 5)

Roman and Draya made their way through the hallways of the hospital and picked up his medication from the pharmacy before leaving through the doors of the hospital. Draya pulled the car around to the front after she loaded his things in the trunk. Roman stretched out in the back seat and leaned his head against the window. The ordeal had drained a lot of energy out of him and really all he wanted was to find the nearest bed and crash. His heart wouldn’t let him, It fluttered at the thought of finally being alone with Draya. She came over to the other side of the back seat and offered a pillow to prop his leg on for the ride home.

“I just figured that it would ease some of the tension. It’s not going to be the smoothest ride to my condo.” She said as she carefully slid the pillow under his knee. He reached over and placed his hand sweetly on hers.

”Thank you, sweetie, it already feels a lot better,” he said as he bit his lower lip before smiling. She looked up and a huge smile spread across her face. She leaned in as he drew in closer. Being mindful of his knee, she held her finger up to his lips before she pulled back. She shut the door and walked over to the other side to open the door. She gently turned his face towards her as she used the handle to pull herself up onto the edge. The two kissed passionately before she pulled away.

”We gotta get going, I have a whole season of Game of Thrones and snacks waiting for us back at my place,” Draya said as she closed the door to the backseat. She quickly went over to the driver seat. She started the car before shifting into reverse. She looked back as Roman looked on, still flushed as be thought of how lucky he was. He leaned back against the door and window as Draya drove. Draya thought about everything that she was feeling.

”Am I rushing things too fast? Am I overdoing it? Something tells me that he's everything I never knew I needed. His heart speaks to me in ways I've never felt before. I don't want to rush into anything too quickly. I never felt this complete in any other relationship. Is this even a relationship? Did I make a mistake of inviting him to stay with me?” The thoughts continued to race through her mind as Roman broke the silence in the car.

Roman and Draya made eye contact through the rearview mirror. ”I know that our first date didn't amount to much. It wasn't what you deserve. You are worth much more than Chinese takeout, Game of Thrones reruns, and a dude with a bum knee but you took a chance. You see something in me that proves that I'm worthy of your time and since the moment that I laid eyes on you, you've done nothing but go above and beyond to make sure that I am okay. You have cleared your entire schedule to take care of me just on a hunch that this may be something worth pursuing. This has been the most nontraditional start to a relationship that I've ever seen but I can see you have your doubts. Maybe I can clear some of those up for you, Draya, will you do me the honor of being my girlfriend? I see my future in your beautiful eyes and I can't let that pass me by. It may see to others like we're rushing but I see it as dating intentionally. We won't get everything right but us together, I see no wrong. You're everything I never knew I needed until this moment.” he said as he continued to look at her from the back seat. Draya looked down at the road before pulling onto the shoulder lane. She parked the car as she looked back at Roman. She tried her best to hide her tears but fought a losing battle.

”Can you read minds or was it that obvious what I am thinking? I never felt feelings as strongly as I do now. There's an electric energy here that draws me to you and I can't break it. I'm scared of my feelings but what you just said offers so much clarity. Yes, I'll be your girlfriend,” she said as a large smile appeared on her face.

”It was just a feeling, I couldn't help it. It was something I wanted to ask you in the parking lot right after you said hello, ” he said as he grinned. He blushed slightly as he looked at her. ”Come on, Game of Thrones awaits us, ” he reminded her before he leaned his head back against the window. Draya turned the car back on and drove home. They pulled up to the condo just as the pain peaked for Roman. His jaw clenched as he breathed heavily. He sat there for a moment whilst Draya parked. She got out and opened the door opposite of Roman. She looked at the anguish on his face as he slid forward. She grabbed his crutches and handed them to him. He took them as he stood, bearing no weight on his right leg.

Draya closed the door and headed for the front door. She opened the door before he walked through it. He looked around briefly at the cozy, modernized home. He stood in the middle of the room as he thought of where he could make it to. ”Where do you feel comfortable with me being?” he asked Draya.

”The bedroom is better. The couch is too small for you to be comfortable. One injury is enough for you right now. It's the last door on the left. Go ahead and settle in while I bring in the stuff from the car. You have a fancy ice machine in there I want to play around with.” She said unable to contain the excitement in her voice. Roman chuckled to himself as he shook his head. He went towards her bedroom and managed to get somewhat comfortable. The pain became increasingly bothersome as he laid there. A few moments later, Draya appeared with the supplies and his medicine. She handed the little to him with a water bottle before she sat down on the floor beside the boxes she got out the car. He looked down and saw letters he wasn't familiar with. Draya pulled the contraption out of the box and his eyes widened with concern as he was uncertain what the machine would do.

”Draya, what is that? It looks like a small torture chamber. Am I really supposed to use it?” Roman asked as he sipped the water. ”So, this bad boy is a continuous passive motion machine. For some, it does seem like torture cause it slowly bends and straightens your knee to help manage swelling, stiffness, and pain. That being said, it will still hurt a lot so be warned. It's set at a specific degree and you work your way up. For you, they said you can do it for 30 degrees for 8 hours a day. I'll give you a break to ice it and then we start back up with it. I feel like you're gonna hate me but I'll be here with you.” She said as she set up the machine in the bed. She carefully removed his brace and placed his leg onto the machine while he laid back, still very uncertain of what was about to transpire. She gave the medicine some time to kick in before she turned the machine on. She removed her shoes and climbed into bed next to him as it began to do its job.

The next few hours were rough on Roman as he continued to use the machine that unlocked his own personal hell. Through the drug-induced haze, Roman still felt every once of the pain being inflicted by this machine. His pride would not let him show the pain in front of Draya. She tried her best to comfort him whilst he remained tense. She held his hand and stroked it softly with her thumb. He pulled her in close as he endured the pain. “Maybe I can hook the ice machine up to your knee while it’s on that thing to help the pain.” She said as she started to get up. He looked up towards the ceiling and mouthed, ”THANK GOD” whilst her back was turned. She sat down on the floor next to box before opening it and applying it to his knee. She plugged it in and the first hint of cold caused a soft groan to escape his lips due to the initial shock. He relaxed as the ice worked its magic. She climbed back in bed and settled in next to him as he took her in his arms. He kissed her forehead as they watched Game of Thrones before they drifted off to sleep.

Hours later, their phones were blowing up. The constant buzzing woke Draya up. She adjusted her glasses and went to see what the commotion was. She looked at her notifications to see several mentions from her twitter feed and a few missed calls from Naomi. Another notification was from WWE, she clicked the notice as it read, ”The Miz has harsh words in response to his last encounter with Roman Reigns”. She clicked the link to see what the fuss was about.

The Miz appeared in the middle of the ring,running his mouth as usual. ”Welcome to the most must-see

wrestling talk show in WWE History, WELCOME TO MIZ TV, hosted by the new face of WWE. You've guessed it, THE MIZ!” he said as he introduced his segment. ”I have an inside scoop from a very reliable source regarded your golden boy, Roman Reigns. You see last night, my highly effective plan of single-handedly ending the career of Roman Reigns was carried out without a single hiccup. I'm quite sure you've seen the footage but for those who hadn't, I direct your attention to the nearest monitor, ” said as the footage played. ”Look at my handiwork, I physically debilitated Roman Reigns in front of the entire world. Who cares about the thrill of a win? You know what's better than the feeling of scoring a pinfall? The feeling of ligaments being torn from the bone and hearing the ligament snap under the tension of a figure four leg lock or better yet the disappointment in the eyes of his family ringside as they watched him struggle to the back because his pride wouldn't let him be helped back. Oh, bravo! Bravo, we demand an encore of this stellar performance! It's more entertaining than most of the promos you've cut this entire year. Here's the thing though, Roman was scheduled to appear tonight. But no one's seen him, I wonder why that is? Hmmm, perhaps it's related to the fact that Roman underwent surgery for a torn MCL and ACL injury today. That could also be a reason why someone else is missing backstage as well. There's no logical reason that Draya would not be here tonight except- anywho, I digress. Yes, Roman Reigns has been sidelined indefinitely. That's right folks, that means I have created my own opportunity to take my rightful place as the NEW face of WWE. For those who didn't know, Roman was on his way to challenging for the NXT Championship pretty soon and now that he's out of the picture, WWE rewarded me with the opportunity to replace him in the running as we enter a tournament to determine the number one contender. One day after taking him out, I'm already reaping the benefits!” he said as he smirked while staring into the camera. The camera zoomed out to plan the vocal audience. The arena filled with boos as the crowd realized that Roman would not be competing any time soon.

Draya stepped out as Roman continued to sleep and called Naomi back. After the second ring, Naomi picked up. ”GIRL! Did you watch it? You're trending on Twitter. #WhoIsDraya is the 3rd most trending hashtag! People are desperately trying to figure out who you are. I hope they don't go too crazy. You know how those internet fans can be, ” Naomi teased.

”Roman is going to flip when he sees this. I don't know how he found out. No one knows anything at this point, at least no one outside of management. Maybe it’s all apart of the storyline. I don’t know but now I’m actually his girlfriend. I’ve never dated a wrestler before.” Draya said before Naomi’s scream radiated through the phone.

“WHAAAAAAAAT?! What did you- how does Miz - rewind and start from the beginning!!!” Naomi exclaimed. Draya proceeded to tell her the details of her encounter with The Miz and what had happened after Roman’s surgery. “You ain’t say nothing! Girl, that’s the things y’all need to tell me! Look at you, you secured the man in a matter of 2 days. I knew y’all would be perfect. Just stay cool and levelheaded. Right now there will be a buzz but it will die down. It’ll be okay. Go ahead and get back to him. I’ll let the fam know he’s being well taken care of. “ Naomi said before hanging up.

Draya looked back at Roman who was just waking up. “D, what’s up? What’s all the buzzing for?” He said as he breathed heavily before sitting up in bed. Draya crawled back into bed with her phone in her hand. She curled up under his arm. “Roman, I need to tell you something but I need you to stay calm.” She began as she propped herself up on her elbow before looking up at his eyes. His brows knitted in concern before he asked, “what’s up?”.

“When we were at the arena, The Miz approached me and instructed me to tell you that he will stop at nothing to make sure you're out for good. He said nothing and no one is off limits, not even me. At the show today, he made some comments about how he took you out and basically told the crowd that we may be together.” Draya said in a low tone as she realized that Roman was already getting upset. He rubbed his face with his hands before wrapping one arm around Draya. “Show me,”he asked calmly. Draya looked down at the phone and pulled up the video. She played it as Roman listened to what The Miz said. The anger built up as each insult was delivered. When it got to the point where he mentioned Draya, Roman was beside himself. “Who gave him the right to involve my personal life in this? Our relationship is just that, OURS! He has no right to threaten you or mention you in our feud. I don’t care about the shit he said about me. He’s crossing a line. Where’s my-,” he said as he started to try to get up. He groaned as he struggled to get his leg down. “Ah-d- Damn it, ah,” he said as he tried to stand. Draya quickly made it over to him.

“Roman, think this through. If we get down there and he gets his hands on that knee. You’re done. You’re career might end because you let emotions get the best of you. Is this what you want, to let everything you worked so hard for go down the drain? Calm down, lay back down. There’s another way to get revenge.” She said as she thought quickly.

“Draya, you’re not a wrestler. I don’t want you getting hurt on my behalf because I’m not there to protect you.” Roman said as he tried to balance himself before sitting back down on the bed. “It’s all a mind game and I’m feeding into it. You’re right. I’ll relax, get through this, and kick his ass when I get back to the ring. I swear if he lays a hand on you, he’s going to-AHHH SH-,” he said as he desperately tried to relax.

“Here, take some more medicine. Here’s your water. You have to relax. No more talk of wrestling or The Miz. Just us, alone. I’ll make dinner and just chill for the rest of the night,okay? Don’t forget the exercises she mentioned at the hospital.” Draya reminded him as she left the room to prepare dinner. She regretted telling him what happened but knew she had to be honest with him. She thought about the situation as she cooked. She made spicy chicken breast with stalks of asparagus, mashed potatoes, and steamed vegetables.

Draya set the table and placed the plates on the table. Roman came just in time to eat. ”How did you know it was ready?!” she said astonished by how quickly he recognized the scent. ”Sweetheart, I have an innate ability to find food when I'm hungry, ” Roman replied with a chuckle as he settled into a seat. He managed to get his brace on and propped his knee up on the nearest chair. The two sat down at the table and ate.

The two free closer as the days passed. Whether it was short walks on the beach, random movie nights, or just them sitting and talking, the bond grew stronger. Every day, Roman committed more and more time to therapy as he gained more strength. He would leave therapy and then come home, only to work out more. He pushed himself to get closer to that ring and it was definitely paying off. Draya had finally returned to work a month after Roman’s surgery. She walked into the condo after a rough night at Full Sail. She tossed her keys on the counter and walked around looking for Roman. ”Ro, are you here?” she asked as she went to the bedroom.

”No! Don't come in here yet! D, I promise it's worth it! Give me like two minutes.” Roman called out as Draya tried to open the door. ”Okay?” Draya answered as she thought of what he could possibly be doing that would require him to block the door. She let her hair down front the curly messy bun and shook it free. She walked to shower and turned it on as she let the water get warm. She played music on her phone and started to sing along as she removed her clothes. She stepped into the shower and the warmth of the water melted her stress away. She washed her hair as she heard a knock at the door.

”Your surprise is waiting for you when you get out D. I hope you like it,” Roman called out as he stood behind the door. Draya continued to sing as she finished her shower. She turned the faucet off as she grabbed a towel to wrap herself in. She gathered her things in her arms before tossing them into the hamper. She walked to the bedroom and found candles lit with large floral arrangements around the room. She looked around in awe as she walked towards each one, inhaling deeply to savor their sweet scent.

Roman appeared in the room wearing a fitted white t-shirt with dark denim jeans. His hair was slicked into a bun. He stood using his crutches as support with a bottle of pink Moscato, her favorite wine. ”I watched the show tonight and given all the chaos that happened, I figured that you would be exhausted. Don't worry, I handled dinner. I just want you to sit back and relax. It's just my way of saying thank you for keeping me motivated this past month. It's not easy dealing with me when I'm away from the ring and you have handled it with so much grace. I appreciate you. I went to the doctor today, don't worry I had Jimmy take me so I didn't drive. Anyway, I'll just show you, ” he said as he leaned his crutches against the wall. He still had his brace on as he slowly walked over to Draya. There was still a slight limp but a vast improvement since he had been non-weight bearing for the past month. He wrapped his arms around Draya’s slim waist as he leaned down and kissed her cheek. He smiled as he continued, ”He cleared me to start increasing what I can do in the gym. I'm healing a lot better than expected right now and I'm on a good track. So I'm working to get full extension, flexion, walking normally again, and finally getting to work out. Oh yeah, no more crutches. I can just use one to keep people from knocking it but I'm doing good without them. My brace is at about 15 degrees. I'm excited but I'm even more thankful, I couldn't have made it to this point without you getting on my ass about using those little machines, ” he kissed her passionately on the lips as he held the one arm around her waist and the bottle in the other hand.

Draya’s heart felt like it was going to explode as she saw Roman take his first steps. She smiled while she kissed his lips. She pulled away slightly before pulling in close. ”I'm so proud of you, Ro. You worked hard to get here and I'll still be here every step of the way, ”she said as she pulled away. ”I'm going to get dressed now, then we can eat. I feel like I need to get somewhat dolled up because you look pretty good right now, ” she teased as she looked in her closet.

”Well, I mean I can finally take you on that special date to Nick’s if you want to go. I had some other plans in mind though. You put on whatever you like and meet me in your backyard.” Roman stated as he headed outside with the bottle of Moscato. Draya threw on a maxi dress and some sandals before meeting him outside. He stood behind the chair waiting for her to walk over. He gently scooted her chair for her as he sat down in the other chair. The table was lit by candles as their plates sat in front of them.

”I'm impressed, you did all of this?” Draya asked as she looked at the very appealing salmon served with rice and creamy sauce on top with shrimp and vegetables on the side. Roman smirked as he began to did in. ”I wish I had cooked this, now seeing your reaction. No, I had Jimmy pick it up while we were out. I just warmed it up but this isn't all that I had planned, ” he said as he smiles before taking the next bite.

”What else did you have in mind Mr. Reigns?” Draya replied with a raised brow as she continued to eat. She was blown away by the amount of thought and effort that was put into this gesture. ”You're raising the bar pretty high with dinner and bouquets of flowers. Tread lightly before I expect this to become the routine, ”she warned as she giggled. The two finished their dinner as they talked about her day at work. He listened intently, nodding appropriately as she continued with her story. She laughed as she held her neck, trying to soothe her aches.

Roman collected their plates and took them in the house before he returned. He took her by the hand and blew out the candles outside before leading her to the bedroom. He carefully removed his brace and jeans before putting on shorts. He replaced his brace and helped Draya out of her maxi dress. He guided her to the bed and handed her one of his shirts to wear. Once she slipped it on, he sat down in bed and patted her spot. She sat down and he began to massage her shoulders firmly to loosen the knots. He continued as she worked her neck around. ”Damn D, you're really tense. Don't they have other trainers they can work the hell out of?” he asked as he continued to work his magic. She moaned as he managed to find the right spot.

”Stay there, right there, ” she said as another content moan escaped her lips. ”Oh m- right there. Ah-” her voice broke slightly as she felt pleasure flood her body.

”Lay back, D, ” Roman requested as his hands slide over her curves. He worked his way down to the small of her back as he kneaded her back with slight pressure. He massaged her legs and worked his way down to her feet. He grabbed some lotion off the nightstand and rubbed his hands together as he continued to pamper her. He massaged her legs as he rubbed the lotion in. Roman took his time and paid special attention to ever knot and tense spot in her body. He felt her body relax under his hands and she became silent. He continued to rub her feet as he glanced back at her resting with her eyes closed.

”Babygirl, tonight wasn't about me at all. No sexual intentions, just wanting to give you the special treatment your body deserved. Sex, I will wait for because you are worth the wait. You are a phenomenal woman and I want to engage with you mentally, emotionally, physically, and spiritually. You're a force to be reckoned with and one of the strongest I've seen. Thank you for allowing me to witness you take in the world. I appreciate everything you do and have done. Sleep well beautiful, ” he said as he held her close. Her head rested on his chest while he wrapped his arms around her.

Roman and Draya was on a steady path. This past month offered it's challenges but the two continued to grow. They carried on the relationship based on their terms. The intimacy continued to grow as they continued to blossom as a couple. Physical intimacy wasn't his primary concern as he still wanted to figure out who she was as a person. The fact that they spent so much time together allowed for a deeper understanding of each other's personalities, they were developing their own little groove by really developing their foundation. They were building a solid union and discovering each other. Roman and Draya used this unfortunate injury as the gateway to healing each other's past wounds and insecurities.

[midnightbookreviewsco]

By: K Webster Length:   227 pages Publication: December 6, 2016

My Review

First, I will begin to state that going into this book, I thought it would have been something COMPLETELY different. Like, a regular dark romance. Even reading the author’s warning at the beginning of the book had me a little worried and I still thought, okay, it may be more crass, than other dark romances. I wasn’t clueing in. I didn’t read any reviews previously, so I went in blindly like the author suggested.

Secondly, this book is not for the faint of heart. The pages are filled with none stop trigger’s and if you’re sensitive, move on.

My God, this book, Yeo and Kady, I don’t know if there are words. I am seriously having a hard time to find a way to summarize my review, without giving away too much. On a quick note, I couldn’t but this book down.

As I digress, Kady had a horrible life. A life that no one should have to endure, and you can just tell how broken our main girl is. You can see how life has rendered her fragile, timid and utterly broken. So broken and sad, and you can’t help but want to reach out and hold her. The writing is very vivid and it’s pretty easy to picture everything like you were watching a movie.

From the beginning, you understand how Kady lives. She doesn’t have much and tries to get by as best as possible. She teaches kids in the neighborhood how to play the piano, and while reading Whispers And The Roars, there’s something whispering in the back of your head. You hear the whispers, you hear them loud and clear, letting you know that something isn’t right. Kady is off, and you’re just waiting for that ‘something’ to happen, to prove those faint words, those faint whispers true.

Throughout the read, Kady will tell you certain things. Nothing too revealing and certain situations may jump out at you, and even Yeo will say certain things to have your brain reeling and trying to really figure out our main girl.

In the beginning of the book and somewhere about 50% of the read, you think you know. You think okay, I’m understanding Kady and Yeo. I know certain situations for me, were like an ‘okay, sure’ moment. I wasn’t sure how I felt when certain things happened, I was trying to make it, make sense in my head. Trying to understand Yeo and Kady, but then the authors tosses a serious curve ball and the book changes.

Trust me, what you think you know up until that 50% point, changes drastically.

After the changing point in the novel, I was emotionally gutted. I was in tears reading what Kady did to protect herself. To shield herself from her father. It broke my heart into a million pieces.

There were a lot of flashbacks that helped you to understand Kady and Yeo. They helped the reader to understand Yeo’s and Kady’s never dying love for each other. Those flashbacks warmed my heart and saddened me at the same time. Their love was so unique and pure, and you couldn’t help but to love them together. You could feel how much they both needed each other. Yes, Kady was the one with the many problems and she couldn’t survive without Yeo. You could honestly feel her emotions bleeding into your soul when it came to Yeo. He was her everything. Her all and it damn near killed her when she sent him away 12 years ago. Kady believed that she was toxic and in all honesty, she is, or can be.

Here’s a perfect quote from the book, it describes our main girl to the tee.

“You are terrifying and strange and beautiful, something not everyone knows how to love.”

Yeo, OMG. He needed Kady just as much as she needed him. What a man to take on such a beautiful broken girl. Against his better judgment, Yeo heeds Kady’s plea’s 12 years previous and goes away to university. Now into the present, Yeo graduated and he’s a doctor and wants to settle down with his lady. Yeo, is one hell of a man. 12 frickn’ years! Granted, he didn’t stay away completely, he still came around to check in on her, but Kady had her friends to distract Yeo while she hid from him. From her overwhelming emotions. Yeo had been her first love since they were kids, and so although she sent him away, she couldn’t deal properly.

Honestly, reading this book, my brain was hurting with, and for Kady. She’s so much. So overwhelming with emotions. Highs and lows. You just never knew what mood she was going to be in. It made me anxious reading, not knowing what would set her off in this scene, or that. It could be the simplest of things, and she’s gone in her mind.

“Kady. Kady. Kady.”

“He’s calling for me, but i’m drowning. His whispers are drowned out by the goddamned roars.”

He roars, “KADY! KADY! KADY!”

His deep voice rumbles right through me and cuts through the haze of my mind as if he’s wielding a knife.

The ‘Kady. Kady. Kady’ parts of the story felt really eerie to me and I don’t know why.

Anywho, this book was written exceptionally well and you should read it. I tried to say everything without saying too much. READ THIS BOOK!

*I was given a complimentary copy

Book Summary

***THIS STANDALONE IS BEST ENJOYED WHEN YOU DON’T READ ANY REVIEWS OR SPOILERS BEFORE READING. GOING IN BLIND IS BEST. TRUST ME.***

When my eyes are closed, the monster can’t see me. When I sing a song in my head, the monster can’t hear me. When I pretend my bedroom is a playground where I play hide-and-seek, the monster can’t find me. The darkness should frighten me. I should worry I’ll find more monsters…monsters scarier than him. But I’m not afraid. It’s safe here. When I’m inside of my head… He. Can’t. Ever. Touch. Me.

Warning: Whispers and the Roars is a dark romance. Strong sexual themes and violence, which could trigger emotional distress, are found in this story. The abuse written in this story is graphic and not glossed over, which could be upsetting to some. This story is NOT for everyone. Proceed with caution.

About Author

K Webster is the author of dozens of romance books in many different genres including contemporary romance, historical romance, paranormal romance, and erotic romance. When not spending time with her husband of twelve years and two adorable children, she’s active on social media connecting with her readers.

Her other passions besides writing include reading and graphic design. K can always be found in front of her computer chasing her next idea and taking action. She looks forward to the day when she will see one of her titles on the big screen.

You can easily find K Webster on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Pinterest, and Goodreads!

Website: www.authorkwebster.com Newsletter: http://eepurl.com/bllgoP