#but this also feels oddly final and like it's meant to be a goodbye

[shadowed-dancer]

While I could see Toga's status as alive going either way, I feel I'm not exactly the best judge since I'm also the person who got confused at the line "is that the face of someone who just watched a friend die?" and had to carefully go through chapters 266 and 267 and read them FIVE TIMES before I realized that yeah, Twice had actually died

[jillsandwhichs]

Time Crunch

Chapter 6 to RE Character x Reader Smutshot Collection

Masterlist

Pairing: F!reader x Ada Wong

Summary: Ada is about to leave from the extraction point in 10 minutes. That gives you just enough time to say goodbye

Status of your guy's relationship in this one shot: Partners in crime

WC: 2.1k

Type: NSFW

Warnings: This is very vanilla, sorry y'all. Hookup, making out, slight dirty talk & oral sex (You receive)

A/n: Hi! Hope you all enjoy. Please check out my masterlist, there's a lot of stuff there. You can get to know me, you can see the rules of my blog and then you can see all of my fanfictions. You'll be able to find the previous chapters to this fic and upcoming ones. You'll also be able to find my Wattpad & AO3. Comments, reblogs & likes are appreciated. Thank you

Silence.

It felt awkward.

The two of you just shared a very steamy kiss.

Yes, the two of you have fucked before, but never on the job, you kept it strictly professional when working, it was just a code you both lived by.

But knowing she'll be gone for awhile after these final ten minutes, neither of you can hold yourselves back, especially yourself. Ada, despite her many flaws, means a lot to you. You've both formed a bond due to your similar interests in life and work, even sexual interests. Ada is a mysterious lady, but that hasn't stopped her from allowing you to at least explore her body, in which you've done quite a bit.

You've been working together for a year now, exactly a year one month ago. Ever since, you two have always chosen each other for missions. You're both reliable and make sure the other escapes, even if your guy's selfishness begins to interfere. Ada has had to save your ass more than you have had to hers but either way, you both are there for each other. Ada was much more hardened when you first met, she's softened up somewhat now.

"How long?" "How long what?" "How long will you be gone for, Ada?" You wondered, crossing your arms and walking back and forth. You'd be alone from now on. Where was she even going and why? "Just a couple of months. I have some unfinished business to attend down in China, you understand?" Ada hummed to you. Ada was leaning against the brick wall, her thin arms at her slender sides. You do understand. She has work, and sometimes work requires you to travel.

Gazing at her, you thought about the kiss you two had just exchanged. It was hot. It was erotic. Kissing for you two is the ultimate form of intimacy. You two tend to get very touchy whenever you kiss or make out, you can't help yourselves. "I hate to say it, but, It'll be difficult without you." You admitted, your tone very low, almost as if you didn't want her to catch onto what you said. "I understand. If it makes you feel better, this won't be the last time you see me. I plan to even remain in contact with you while I am overseas." Ada also admitted something.

Her words meant a lot.

It's not like she owes you that though. You two aren't in a relationship. You two hookup, it feels good, it's nice, that's it, it isn't anything more. But, it almost seems hard to avoid one another. Ada is a drug, morphine to you. You need that woman in your system at least once within the day. Just being around her causes arousal to stir up inside of you. Every single time you both finish a mission, you guys meet up and fuck. It's a ritual at this point.

You stood there, your head tilted down, your eyes glancing at the muddy ground. It had rained not to long ago. You and Ada were slightly wet from it, but it's dried up for the most part - In some places... You looked back up at Ada, she was gazing at you with a soft look. You began to amble closer to her, your heart thumping repeatedly in your chest as you did. Oddly enough, you felt nervous this singular time when approaching her. "I want you... For one last time." You whispered, your front finally pressed up against hers.

"You may have me for one final time." Ada bit her lower lip, it was tinted a darker shade of red, her lipstick was always an attraction.

You cupped her face in your hands, aggressively, yet passionately, pressing your lips against hers. Your lips moved in sync, it was rather beautiful actually. Ada's miniscule hands encased around your back, making sure you weren't going nowhere. She held you, her hands stroking your entire time. Her touch felt like a thousand suns. You'd miss it so very much. You are sure it won't be the last time you feel her - It can't be the last time.

Ada licked your lower lip, desperately wanting to taste you. She couldn't live without kissing you, kissing you with her tongue. Your mouth is a safe haven for her. Your mouth went slightly agape, and her tongue slipped into your mouth, an honest moan coming from her when she pushed it in. "Fuck." You grunted, your bodies flipping so that you were now against the cold, hard, red brick wall. Both of you are switches at the end of the day.

"I wanna taste you." Ada mumbled, her lips finally detaching from yours. You were panting, trying to catch your breath. Her seductive tone was enough to have your panties soaked and your pussy wanting her even more. Ada has a way with words.

You smiled at her, your head diving into the crook of her neck. Your lips found her sweet spot, and you took advantage of that. You pecked all along her neck, your breath sharp as you breathed in. Her scent was lovely too, she smelt like Vanilla and that was very sexy to you. Maybe she knew that because anytime you hookup, its what she smells like. It drives you crazy. "You want to taste me?" You cooed on her throat. "You know I do, honey." Ada responded truthfully.

That just made you drip more.

Adas eyes locked with yours as she moderately lowered her body until her face was at an alignment with your core, a look of need was on her face. Disbanding the eye contact, she gandered at your jeans and the buttons on them as she began to undo them, wanting you terribly now. "We have to be quick." "I know." You replied. It seriously sucks that she'll be going away for some time. You'll miss the way her firm tongue feels on your pussy.

Her lean fingers pulled your pants down with haste, your damp panties directly in her face. "I can already smell you." She sighed softly, breathing it all in. You moaned softly. You didn't know where to set your hands, she hasn't eaten you out in this position before. "My shoulders baby." She cooed, as if she could read your mind. Obliging, you placed your hands on her slender, boney shoulders; The stability will come into use later.

With your hands on her shoulders, her hands went to your panties, tearing them off of you as quickly as she could. Your soaked cunt was revealed to her alas. The cold, windy air hit you like a bullet, causing you to shiver. "I'll warm you up." She teased right before she buried her face in your cunt, her tongue profusely lapping at your wet folds. "Oh." You whimpered in surprise, shocked that she so soonly began to eat you out like it was the last time she ever would.

Maybe it is.

Your head leaned back against the wall, your hair already becoming a mess. The brick wall was cold on your rear, the texture of it wasn't the best either but you'd endure it just for this. "Fucking hell..." You panted, her tongue was going mad on you. Adas eyes were closed. It seemed as though she was channeling everything inside of her to make you feel good, which was clearly worked. Your legs already felt wobbly. You felt like you could fall at any second, you held onto her tighter.

The lewd noises that were being made only enhanced the sexual pleasure Ada was making you feel. That extraordinary pit in your stomach - The one that lets you know your orgasm is about to rush over you, was slowly yet surely taking over.

As she continued, Ada began to adjust your legs to be sat on her shoulders. You helped, shifting them and blowing out deeply as you felt the comfortability of it. It felt way better this way. You began to moan much more loudly, Adas tongue causing your muscles to tighten inside of you. It was hard not to, but you began to practically ride her face. You grinded your pussy up against her mouth. She didn't seem to mind, if anything, she reveled in it.

"Faster." She spat out, her nails digging into your plump thighs. Another thing about Ada is that she worships your body, especially your thighs. She'll stare at you and get horny. There is just something about you that does that to her.

Listening, you began to ride her face quicker. Your movements were sloppy but you didn't care, just as long as she was licking you, tasting you and making you feel pleased. "Oh Ada..." You let out a sharp breath. Your hands ran through her jet black hair, it was soft, healthy, easy to tug on - Which you did. "Right there, that's it." You whined. Her tonuge on your clit was exactly what you needed. The sensitive bud needed to be focused on.

She suctioned your clit between her lips, slurping on it. You slammed your head back, your back arching too, you were going to cum on her tonuge.

"Oh..."

Your orgasm flew over you. Suddenly, the crisp air made your nipples hard and your body to shake slightly, that was due to it mixing with your climax. You rode her face for a few more seconds and then you pulled away, pushing yourself up against the wall. You were still dripping, your wetness with the mixture of your squirt dripped onto the ground. Ada stood up, maintaining her gaze on you as she did.

Wiping her mouth as well, Ada spoke up.

"You tasted amazing." She said softly, stumbling over to you. You just giggled, your vision still felt hazy, you were a bit out of it, that's for sure. You stared at her for a moment. You wish you two could have more time together, you wonder if you have enough time to at least eat her out as well. Probably not. She's a very coordinated lady, she'll want to get out of her the second the correct time strikes the clock.

You pulled your panties up and then your pants, you rebuttoned them up too. You didn't want to look like a mess when it is time to go, your boss will be concerned. "Do you think we'll have time to-" "No. Two minutes until I must leave." Ada interrupted you. She just didn't want you to get your hopes up for disappointment. For some reason, you're upset. You don't care for Ada a whole lot as a person, you guys are simply forced to team up. That doesn't mean you don't care at all. A part of you is going to miss her.

As Ada was letting her eyes roam around as she waited patiently, you grabbed onto her, pouncing your lips onto hers. She gasped but quickly melted at the gesture. She swathed her arms around your neck, her fingers messing with your tied back hair. "This is my goodbye to you." You hummed, your tongue slithering along hers; The texture of it turned you on once again. "This is a good farewell then." She smiled into the kiss. Not your average smile though, very small and barely noticeable.

You slid your hands down her back and onto her ass, holding it in both hands. You squeezed her, a sigh coming from her. "I won't be gone too long." "A couple months is long, Ada." You stated. You found it to be too damn long. No one will suffice like Ada does. "You'll be fine." She cupped your face, her thumbs caressing both sides of your cheeks before she finally had to pull away, her watch buzzing.

"Gotta go."

Her hands were in yours. You wanted to homd onto her as long as possible but she backed and backed away slowly til eventually, your hand dropped from hers.

"So long, beautiful." She winked as she tilted her head before she randomly used her grappling hook to sail away. You could hear what seemed to be a helicopter in the distance, most likely her getaway vehicle. You stood there in silence, all that could be heard was that motor and your soft, calm breathing. All you can think about is how much things will be different. You'll either be alone or with a new partner, both options don't sound pleasant whatsoever.

You blew out a deep breath, collecting yourself.

"Time to go home." You whispered before you began to run off, the events of tonight on repeat in your head.

[orii-blogs-stuff]

Like everything else, Death looked very pretty on Georgine.

Detlinde watched the procession with a frown, indeed, her mother was dead, yet she felt nothing for her. No sobbing daintily into her handkerchief like her elder sister Alstred. Not a single tear rolled down her cheek unlike her elder brother Wolfram, she was simply stoic, her translucent veil covering her yawn of boredom. An on-looker paying close attention to Detlinde’s facial expressions may have mistaken her as an Archduke Candidate not of Georgine’s blood, but Detlinde would correct them. 

Despite her mother never paying attention to her and always spent every moment she could relax, talking to Wolfram or on the rare occasions, Alstred, despite Detlinde focusing her attention to better herself at the harspeil, learning manners, painting, singing, sewing, designing her own dresses and hair styles to start as trends she may pass down her knowledge to her… Less fortunate peers … At the Royal Academy when she reaches the age of ten.. Her mother still stood at her Baptism ceremony so Georgine must be her mother. 

However, her mother would call her harspiel performance at her Baptism mediocre , her manners inferior to her mother’s own when her mother was her age, her singing out of tune and her designs? Ghastly . Detlinde was unsure what ghastly meant; however the fact that her mother ordered to never sing without the drowning sound of a harspeil or to make up her own designs, Detlinde knew Ghastly must have some negative connotations.   

All she wanted to do today was to play tea parties with her dolls! But she couldn’t because her mother fell down the stairs and died.

Detlinde watched Georgine’s body lay peacefully in her casket, her face etched with bruises and a deep red wound on her forehead, it had been a few hours since the funeral procession had started, her makeup had faded since, her cause of death showing glaringly red, for the entire world to see.

Detlinde looked lower, at the sword of Ewigeliebe sunken into her mother’s heart, it had been there ever since the beginning of the funeral, collecting the mana in her mother’s body.

“May Lady Georgine find peace in the Garden of Beginnings and be greeted by the Gods, with open arms.” The Head Priest took out the sword, Detlinde watched as the mana seemed to clump around the sword, the Head Priest removed the mana and shaped it into a feystone the size of his palm before it fully hardened.

And then. He took her away.

Detlinde knew she wouldn’t be allowed to go to the Archduke Conference in the coming Spring to see the Whirlers bid mother a final goodbye, so this was Detlinde’s time to give her final goodbye to her mother.

However, she couldn’t care less. Seeing the feystone being taken away for safe keepings, seeing the remaining husk that used to contain her mother’s feystone be burnt away. She felt an oddly freeing sensation bloom in her heart, like a flower design she would stitch onto her practice cloth which her mother would throw away and make to restart the process again.

It also made her feel angry, like she missed some sort of opportunity to show her mother how spectacular she could be, to show her mother that there were others out there who loved her dresses and hairstyles Detlinde loved to make and Georgine would hate so much. To show that people of Ahrensbach loved her enough to make her their Aub.

A missed opportunity.

Detlinde felt tears well up, it wasn’t fair! It just wasn’t fair! How dare mother die like this?! By falling down the stairs?! How dare she?! How dare she not stay and watch Detlinde flourish at the academy like she did with Wolfram and Alstede?! How dare she not be there when Detlinde would get First-in-Class and not congratulate her?

Sniff Sniff!

How dare mother not give her any good memories of them together so she could think back to those for comfort instead of grieving over a fantasy?

Detlinde poised herself and walked out with her attendants, the funeral was done, now she could finally go back to her tea party.

[hanayori89]

A Game of Politics

*The Palace of Twilight*

Link's lips were puckered against the back of your hand. The gentle sound of his kisses trailing up your arm made you come alive in a way you had never experienced before.

Is this what it feels like to be alive? To have every breath within you finally make sense?

He stopped kissing you for a moment. His blue eyes were darkened by the shadows of your room. But even the darkest of shadows couldn't cocoon the desire brewing in his gaze.

He continued diligently kissing your skin until he hit your shoulder. He murmured something against your flesh as he gently slid his fingertip down the entrance to the labyrinth of Twili markings that embellished your skin.

"Link, I feel..." Your voice was unrecognizable amongst yourself. There were traces of yearning within it. Yearning you have never portrayed before. Was this...pleasure? Was this what the interlopers stole from you?

Now Link was here. And he was going to reward you with it.

He was going to reward you with what it meant to live within the light.

Link took your face in between his hands, and with a faint whisper into your lips, he demanded. "Tell me how you feel."

"I feel..." You didn't dare close your eyes. You latched your gaze into his. His lips lingered above yours.

"What do you feel?"

Your eyes shot open as you saw the curiously hard eyes of Midna. Your heart rate was still elevated from the steamy dream of Link.

"Midna..." You couldn't meet her eyes. You could feel yourself squirm around in the bed you were in. The sheets and quilt were not as comfortable as Link's, which you've grown oddly accustomed to.

Midna gave you a reserved smirk. Her voice was a sardonic shell of itself. "Welcome home."

She began her familiar pacing, as she did during her lectures. You recalled Zelda doing it at Hyrule Castle. How similar they both were, even in the most circumstantial ways.

"Well, I suppose the goal is for this to not really be your home anymore, is it? This saddens me, Y/N. You're very special to me. Whether you realize it or not."

"Midna," you began, excited to speak in normal Twili once again. "How did I get back here? I tried to talk to you the other night and-"

"I summoned you." Midna's voice was sharp in the overbearing silence of the room you were in. Silence dominated much of the Realm of Twilight. When you first made it to the light, you found the constant chatter vexing. Now the familiar silence you were beginning to miss was uncomfortable. Foreign. As if you never really resided within it.

"Y/N, I am worried about your disillusionment with the light. You are beginning to remind me of... " Midna's voice drifted away in thought.

"Who? Midna, what is going on? Why did you tell me there was only one shard from the Mirror of Twilight? When did you know Princess Zelda had one? Why did you lie to me?" You stood, your bare feet touching the cold palace floor.

"Now you summon me back, claiming I am disillusioned. I didn't even get to say goodbye to Link!" When you said Link's name, you heard your voice waver. You felt the same burning within your eyes that had happened at Lake Hylia. Only now have you understood the emotion attached to it. You were going to cry.

Midna sauntered up to you, taking you cautiously within her arms. Much like a mother would console an upset child. Midna was, after all, the only mother figure you had ever known. She could be rigid at times, but only because she kept your best interests at heart. Now that you've returned from the light, you've decided it's much deeper than interests. Her rigidity was also a form of protection. These demons, known as emotions, kept their realm at bay. She patted your back as you felt the tears dribble down your face.

You wished Link was here to wipe them away.

Except he was busy kissing Ilia. The memory of the kiss between them was now prevalent in your mind. You began to cry harder.

"Midna, what's wrong with me? Why is the light doing this to me?" You wept in her arms.

"I meant it when I said we could never be part of their realm. For good reason. I too felt this sensation when I had to leave. "

"What sensation?"

Her response was reluctant. "The breaking of my heart."

You held your breath for a moment. Did Midna know she was in love with the hero of Twilight? How could you have fallen for the same trap?

"Then why don't you use your shard to visit Link?"

Midna let out an almost grating laugh. "Who said anything about the hero?"

Your tears were cut short by relief. "You're not in love with the hero of Twilight?" You asked with astonishment.

"I regard the hero dearly. He is also very special to me as a human. I meant..." her face dense with emotion, "Zelda."

"I don't follow..."

"Zelda is like my sister. My love and admiration for her run deep. She made me the ruler I never thought I could be. Teaching me diplomacy and unconditional love for my people. For her. That is why she carries the other shard. So that we may always be connected. " Midna paused for a moment before continuing her clarification. "I do not travel to the Realm of Light because it is too risky. It leaves room for a negative entity to travel within the realms. We both agreed to not do this because of the risk it would pose. The love of our kingdoms must always come before our love."

"Then why let me go?" You asked in outrage. "Why let me welcome such a threat to both realms?"

"Because your conversion is essential to what could save our realms."

"Midna! I'm tired of the secrets! What are you trying to say?" You demanded with an aggressive stomp from your foot. "You didn't even know I left with the intention of conversion. Which, I apologize for my deceit. I was afraid if I had asked to convert, you'd never have let me go. "

Midna let out a defeated sigh. She knew she could keep things a secret no more. Especially if what she suspected was at stake. Midna held the shard that was still looped around Y/N's neck. Zelda. You must tell Link.

You watched Midna hold the shard and keep her head bowed in concentration. You knew she was saying something to Zelda.

Midna began to walk, disappearing before your eyes. You knew she was going to her study. You quickly followed suit, transporting yourself in the same manner. You appeared in Midna's study. Midna was already seated on her iron throne in wait. She held her hand out, inviting you to take a seat.

"Y/N... sit down. There's something you need to know."

*Hyrule Castle*

Link stormed through Hyrule Castle. Val and Fabian were nipping closely at his heels.

"M-Master Link, Zelda has a council coming up with-"

"Zelda!" Link howled as he pushed open the doors to her study.

Zelda stood picturesquely by her bookcase of Hylian scripture. Link growled," Zelda, where is she?"

"Who?" Zelda asked, feigning curiosity. Her eyes never left the book she held open.

"You know damn well who!"

"Link you really must control your outbursts. It is not befitting of a hero." Zelda slammed the book she was reading shut with a sigh. "Y/N is safe. You can take comfort in that."

"Where is safe?"

"The Realm of Twilight." Zelda's unconcerned behavior was starting to infuriate Link. Zelda casually strode past Link to the doors of her study. She shut them, turning to Link with a critical expression. "Midna has requested that I speak with you."

"Is she alright? Will she be coming back? We haven't even gone to the Arbiter's Grounds yet to begin her conversion. I saw her." His voice was overflowing with self-deprecation. "I saw her fall, and I couldn't go to her. "Link's fists shook at his sides. The overwhelming disgust he felt with himself could not be contained.

"I didn't protect her. I failed her." Link slammed one of his fists into the wall in fury. The impact of his knuckles on the castle wall didn't even make him flinch. "Now Ilia and Mayor Bo are pushing this wedding up around his election to secure his win. It feels like everything is going wrong."

Zelda remained stoic in the heat of Link's tantrum. She strolled past Link to a specific bookshelf. Link watched her eyes scour the shelves for a specific title. Once she found it, she gently tapped it with her index finger before retrieving it from the shelf. She walked up to where Link stood by her desk. She plopped the book down amongst her piles of unread documents. A dust bomb erupted from the sudden drop of the book. Link looked at the title, which read, A Game of Politics.

"Let me explain something to you as a politician. The masses are either with us or against us. Since the tragedy that befell Ordon during the Ganondorf invasion, it seems Mayor Bo's popularity has fallen. It isn't a secret that this betrothal is a calculated maneuver to regain the confidence of the villagers. At least, not to a politician's eye."

Politics is where Zelda really seemed to shine in the eyes of Hyrule. She was able to display a genteel nature even through the most abominable of debates. Her intuition also lent her a helping hand when it came to seeing through the facades of many politicians. In short, there was a reason she was the wielder of the Triforce of Wisdom.

She continued her peroration.

She clasped her hands behind her back as she started to pace. "It also isn't a secret that our groom-to-be does not want this wedding. But let me just say, Link, they won't let this go without a fight. So, I can't help but wonder, if you created a smokescreen, would that relieve you of your marital contract? I know just the scenario."

"Hold on, Zelda. I appreciate the political standpoint but what about the fact that Ilia is in love with me? I'm not trying to hurt her. "Link knew she was proposing an angle. He just wasn't sure what, and would she ever answer him about Y/N?

"Duty is always above love. Surely, Ilia understands this with the mayor as her father. However, you may wish to revisit what you think you knew about Ilia. Why do you think Aryn was released from his current incarceration?"

Link tried not to let the shock show on his face. "That creep! What do you know about him? Are you saying Ilia bailed Aryn out? Why would she bail out someone like that?"

An amused crinkle pulled at Zelda's eye. "You're so worried about not hurting Ilia that you haven't noticed the ways she's been hurting you."

Y/N. Ilia did this to rattle Y/N. To keep her away from me. Doesn't Ilia know what Aryn would have...would have...

"I can't believe Ilia to be so nefarious. I won't!" Link spat in revulsion. Zelda goaded Link on. "You think Mayor Bo was the one to push your wedding up? Do you not understand the mayoral position is also as good as hers if something were to happen to him?"

Zelda picked up the book and handed it to Link. "Read this. I think it will make some things clear about what has been going on in Ordon. As for Y/N..."

Link stood, transfixed on Zelda, as soon as he heard Y/N's name. "She is the perfect smokescreen for your wedding escape. You do understand she poses a risk of Ganondorf breaking the seal if she continuously comes to our realm."

"Midna would never allow her to go through with this if it posed such a risk. Nor would you. Speaking of the seal, the Mirror of Twilight, was I imagining it when Midna destroyed it? Or is there another behind-the-scenes trick with that also?"

Zelda shook her head. "There are only two shards. The shard I possess, and the shard Midna possesses, or at the moment, Y/N." Zelda braced herself for her next statement, for she knew it would be heavy for Link to bear. Especially considering he was obviously smitten with Y/N.

"Midna agreed to let Y/N come because her conversion to Hylian is paramount to saving both our realms. By completing the trials of conversion, we could erase the shadow within her."

A horrific feeling flooded Link as Zelda said the word "shadow."

"Zelda, what are you trying to tell me?" Link wasn't sure he wanted to know.

Zelda placed a hand on Link's shoulder, steadying him beneath her grip. "Zant..." Zelda whispered, losing her poise momentarily. Link's blood ran cold just hearing Zant's name come from Zelda's mouth.

"Link. Y/N... she is Zant's daughter."

The room began to spin. It all made sense to Link. The reason she was so good at bringing his shadows into the light...was because she herself was a shadow trying to invade the light.

A/N: Edited 12/17/22

With one answer comes more questions. How does the current revelation of your origin line up with your current mission? There is a shadow within you that is begging to be released. The question is: will you succumb to the shadow in the same way your father Zant did, or will you learn how to fuse it with your inner light?

Meanwhile, at Hyrule Castle, Link is learning how to combat the sinister shadows of a corrupt election with his own light. Can he do this while sparing the feelings of his friend? Or will he have to spare the feelings that are his own?

Check out my other OOT Zelda work- No Woman Beyond

[kay-wren]

I'll Come Running - R.C. - Chapter 53

Jessie stood in the perfectly manicured lawn of Tanneyhill, overlooking the towering white castle in front of her. She had a moment to herself to drink in her final vision of the house that, oddly enough, meant so much to her. Her eyes wondered to the far left of the front of the house, the balcony that she stood under throwing rocks at the window praying that it was Rafe's room. She looked into the large windows of the first floor one last time as she reminisced on the times she'd see Rafe and Ward arguing over god knows what... most likely being her. She then looked over at the unmistakable 'For Sale' sign tucked perfectly in the billowing hydrangeas that covered the front of the house. She took a deep breath as she said goodbye to the familiar sight, knowing she probably wouldn't see it again. She had mixed feelings about that fact. Before she could turn around she felt a pair of muscular arms softly wrap around her.

"You ready to go?" Rafe whispered gently in his wife's ear. She nuzzled just a little closer up to Rafe's chest as he laid his head on top of hers admiring the house as well.

"Yeah..." she whispered with a half smile, still somewhat concentrated on something else. "Rafe?" Jessie asked.

"Hm?" Rafe replied, not bothering to move his arms or his head out of place.

"Are you gonna miss Tanneyhill?"

Rafe had to think about that question. Up until this point he really hadn't had the time to ponder it. He had been so busy trying to sell the house, get things lined up simultaneously in the Bahamas as well as Manhattan, and business of course went on as usual. So between the constant phone calls and emails and the daughter he had to raise and the wife he had to consider and not to mention the teenagers he and his wife were now responsible for, he hadn't really considered how he felt about selling his childhood home.

On the one hand, he couldn't forget the memories he made on the property. The football games with Topper and Kelce on the front lawn, the parties he threw, the endless summer nights on the balcony with Jessie, the play fights (and real fights) he used to have with Sarah and Wheezie. On the other hand, he also had plenty of terrible memories to pull from that he wouldn't mind putting behind him. The conversation he had on the couch when Ward told him his mom had passed away. The introduction to Rose, which always felt more than a little off in his mind even at such a young age. The fights with his father about anything and everything. The drug induced comas he would get himself into after said fights. He started to think the bad outweighed the good in that house.

"Maybe just a little." Rafe admits. "But nothing compares to the memories that were gonna get to make far away from this island." Rafe finished as he spun Jessie around and connected his forehead to hers.

"Yeah, maybe you're right." Jessie whispered.

"We're bigger than this island, Jessie Cameron." Rafe whispered back as he took her face in his hands and planted a passionate kiss on her lips. They would've continued but they were rudely interrupted by yet another phone call, one of many recently due to Rafe's newfound position as the owner of Cameron Enterprises. Rafe groaned as he broke away and dug in his back pocket for the thing he was sure was gonna explode one day. He secretly hoped it would.

"Yeah?" Rafe asked, clearly annoyed, not even looking at the caller ID, instead keeping his furrowed eyes locked on Jessie, who just smiled and laughed a bit. He was grateful she didn't have a problem with how busy he's been.

"Alright, we're on our way." Rafe responded to the person on the other end of the phone before abruptly hanging up.

"Plane's ready. Charley's in the truck."

"I'll text the Pogues and tell them to meet us there." Jessie replied with a wide grin as she took a deep breath and took Rafe's hand in hers. Rafe smiled back as they walked hand in hand away from the house that made them both the closest of friends and the worst of enemies at times.

- - -

"Alright, load up." Rafe commanded as he rounded up everyone on the tarmac. All the Pogues filed in one by one with murmurs of excitement and beaming smiles. Charley of course marched right behind them with the same attitude. Jessie and Rafe watched her struggle to get up the steps, having to take them one at a time. Although they both found it adorable, Rafe eventually just walked up behind her, grabbed her arm and dangled her from his side as he walked up the rest of the steps, leaving her in a laughing fit.

Before Rafe could make it all the way up the stairs with his daughter and Jessie following quaintly behind, the two of them both heard a voice they couldn't help but recognize immediately.

"Country cluuuub!"

Before the sentence was even finished Jessie and Rafe were both spun around with guns drawn at the man that to them was nothing more than their former drug dealer. Thankfully, JJ wasn't too far in front of them, so he grabbed the toddler innocently and patiently waiting at her father's feet.

"Woah!" Barry yelled from across the tarmac, still suantering up to them now with hands raised in mock surrender. "No need for all that now, it's just me!" Barry said with a gold toothed shit eating grin. Rafe secretly wondered where his security was and made a mental note to fire every damn one of them when this escapade was over. Once again, it was up to him and Jessie to defend their family, and of course they didn't think twice about doing it.

"What the hell do you want, Barry?" Jessie spoke up through laser focused eyes and a venomous tone, her gun still steady with the man's head in sight.

"Oh, nothing..." Barry replied, now a little lower due to the fact that he was closer to the two people he wanted to see.

"That's close enough." Rafe corrected Barry, as he clearly thought he was getting far too comfortable.

"Calm down, country club! I'm not here for that little girl of yours! I'm here for my payment." He said with a smirk.

"I don't owe you shit." Rafe seethed as he held the gun tighter in his hands.

"Oh yes you do... and I get to determine how much."

Rafe and Jessie both had no clue what the drug dealer was referring to, yet neither one of them showed it on their faces. They always did have their shit locked up tight, and even if they hadn't rehearsed it beforehand, they were always each other's alibi, ready for anything anyone could throw at them. This was no exception.

At this point the pogues all piled into the plane, looking through the tiny windows to see the pending fire fight. JJ, of course, was keeping Charley occupied on the other side, although it killed him not to be out there right in the middle of it... or at least looking to see what was happening.

"Bullshit, Barry." Jessie said. "What makes you think I won't put a bullet through your skull right now?" She asked with raised eyebrows and a slight tilt of her head.

Barry just laughed a little and eyed the girl up and down seductively, which Rafe of course picked up on and tightened his trigger finger because of it.

"Don't bullshit a bullshitter, Mrs. country club."

"When have I ever been known to bullshit?" Jessie sassed back with her head cocked to the side as she clicked her tongue. To that Barry didn't have much of a response, it was in that moment he realized she was right. Jessie never bluffed. Still, Barry remained stolid as he kept his gaze on the gun clad girl in front of him with a smirk.

"Oh I know you don't bullshit, Jess... You didn't bullshit when you made Ward Cameron disappear and cover for your boy did ya?"

Now Barry was the one to cock his head and click his tongue as if this was a game. Before Barry could even finish the action Jessie butted in, now seeming plain angry.

"What're you talking about? Ward died on the druthers along with his wife and daughter." Jessie played it cool. Years of experience working for her in this moment. Unfortunately, it wouldn't work this time. Barry just laughed and looked around the airstrip.

"Don't be stupid, Jess. I know what you did. And it's okay... ya know I really didn't give a shit what happened to that son of a bitch... as long as he paid me..."

"You don't know shit." Jessie snapped back with furrowed brows.

"Oh I know enough... I know the second your boy threw me up against that table and embarrassed me in front of god and everybody that he really didn't need me anymore, and it's a good thing too... because you know who did?"

Barry didn't have to finish that sentence, both Jessie and Rafe knew exactly who found Barry at just the right time.

"Shit." Only Jessie could hear Rafe mutter under his breath. Although she couldn't see him behind her, she knew he was cracking under pressure. Thankfully, she was still in control.

"Yeah that's right... Ward Cameron... called me that same day matter of fact and gave me an offer I couldn't refuse. I tailed your asses, told him exactly where he could find you. After that I got so excited to see the downfall of Rafe Cameron that I just stuck around waiting to see what would happen... and what do you know? I see you and all your little teenage friends robbing and killing like your Smokey and the Bandit!" Barry yelled with a maniacal laugh. He really thought he had won, and Rafe thought he had too. But Jessie never faltered, she had been in rooms with people who thought they won over her plenty of times. This was no different.

"You done now?" Jessie retorted with a look of annoyance. Barry paused, not believing that's all she had to say. He knew he didn't have much leverage considering it was just him on that tarmac, but he had to take his chances.

"I own you now. And I want my hush money. And I know you got it."

"Jessie..." Rafe finally spoke up behind her, gun still drawn and a shaky finger rested on the trigger. "I want you to get on that plane and take-"

Rafe couldn't even finish the sentence before Jessie took matters into her own hands. She knew she had a better way of handling this. She simply lowered her gun and walked down the steps of the plane and closer to Barry. All the pogues were still watching from the windows and couldn't believe what she was doing.

"You think you got us all figured out huh? Well, let me tell you something." Jessie started as she slowly walked over to her former drug dealer. "That money you think we got? Aint on this plane. You really think I'm that damn stupid to put that cash on the same damn plane? Come on Barry, you know we're both better than that." Jessie laughed looking back at Rafe, who was confused to say the least. "You want money? Fine. Name your price. But you're not gonna get it right now because it's not here. You're gonna have to come back with us to Tanneyhill."

"Hell no, Jessie, you think I'm stupid?" Barry replied with clear offense written all over his face.

"Well then I guess you're out of luck, Barry. Because the only options you have are to trust us to get you the money... or I can put a bullet through your brain right now... and I know you know I will." Jessie smirked, now holding her hand comfortably on the gun situated on her waist band.

"You're not really gonna let those pogues jet off to god knows where with your daughter are you? Sounds like a shitty move-"

"Don't worry about my damn daughter." Jessie seethed as she gritted her teeth and got in Barry's face, tightening her grip on the cold metal to her side. "Worry about the fact that your life is in my hands... and I've killed bastards over way less than this."

Barry had no more words, knowing he really shouldn't push his luck if he wanted to get any further. He knew he was taking a risk approaching such a volatile couple like Rafe and Jessie with nothing but his self confidence and an airtight story, but of course, Barry was always willing to risk his life for some money. Jessie took his silence as an opportunity.

"Rafe," Jessie yelled, not daring to peel her eyes away from the man in front of her. "Tell them to go on without us."

"But Jessie you need to be with-"

"They'll be fine. They know what to do."

That was the truth. The Pogues had rehearsed this plan front to back and it was for this very reason. Jessie knew they always had to be prepared for shit to hit the fan. Jessie stared down Barry with a cold look of concentration. It wasn't but just a few seconds later and Jessie could hear Rafe's footsteps coming to meet her. Unfortunately, she also heard her daughter's distant sobs in the background as she realized her parents weren't going with her.

It broke Rafe's heart to hear Charley, yet that only made him more angry... so angry that he pulled his gun once more and stuck it to Barry's head. He shuttered at the sudden contact of the cold metal.

"You made my daughter cry." Rafe said with a clinched jaw and fist. "Now start walking."

[twentytanya]

It's Something Unpredictable, But In The End It's Right | Tanya and Friends

Date: Late April 2024 Featuring: @lady-snow-flower, @madmagicmim, @zerohallows, @kingofdemxns, Sonam Warnings: Death, grief

Tanya returns to Leeds to finish her last bit of business before it is time to go.

TANYA

It didn’t really hit Tanya until the sun started to set over the city as they approached Leeds.

Of course, the mood had been solemn this afternoon when everyone had met up to pile into the car. But you couldn’t stay solemn for four hours. The ride had turned into an oddly normal hangout, blasting music and making jokes and talking over one another. It was everything Tanya wanted out of the day. But only now, as night began to fall, did Tanya remember why she was really here.

She was nervous, of course. But she was also very, very sure about this. More sure than she’d ever really felt about anything. And, in a way, Tanya knew that the part of her that was nervous was the most important part of her. Because this meant she didn’t have to hide from the things that scared her anymore.

“You’re going to take this next left,” Tanya instructed. She’d forgotten a lot of her afterlife, but not her life. And she knew the way to the cemetery well. “And there should be plenty of parking. Sonam’s going to meet us in the lot.”

KING

King did not want this. He probably should, to let Tanya move on and move forward. To be at peace.

But this was his friend and the ache was not soon forgotten. Even as they enjoyed their time together in the car and King was squished in the back he hadn't minded at all. 

But suddenly the car felt all too small, all too final and he couldn't help but wish he had more time. 

There was also part of him that felt too small. Too unprepared for this. Even though he tried to make out words all he could do was look at others for their lead.

MIM

Mim had been determined to make this a good day. She knew that next week would be horrible and lonely. There would be a dozen texts she would start typing to Tanya before remembering and deleting them. Words she would save up with nowhere to go. Events where she would turn to her side to say something to a person that wouldn’t be there to hear them. 

But that was the price of loving someone. She’d deal with that on her own the only way she could. To balance against that, she wanted one last good day to hold in her memory. 

She spent the car ride telling dumb jokes to try and make people laugh. Starting silly car games and seeing how long they could keep that up. Pulling up a playlist of Tanya’s favorite music so they could sing along, and tell stories that different songs reminded them of. 

The longer they drove, the harder she gripped the steering wheel until she could feel her hands begin to ache. Then she would start another story. 

Tanya’s words brought an end to that golden drive and she nodded, making the turns smoothly until they were able to pull to a stop in a nearly empty car park. It was late enough that most people had already gone home. The car turning off brought the silence rushing in.

ZERO

Silence was hardly unfamiliar to him, if it weren't for the people he held close he likely would have existed in that nearly soundless state; little use in speaking just to hear your own voice. But he had been speaking during that trip, among a few people he didn't know and a few who were more important to him than most; because silence wasn't comfortable for everyone the way it was for him, and goodbyes weren't meant to be heavy things. 

The heavy parts should come after, Zero reasoned, when memories remained instead; silence was no way to spend those hours.

He knew that, unfortunately, from experience.

So he'd smiled, talked, rolled his eyes at Mim's jokes and made comments on the little conversations, trying to be a counterpart to her efforts  as he set aside the silence for Tanya, for a few more memories. 

Matching stories with his own, set to making Tanya laugh over things she hadn't known, adventures in clubs and ridiculous things he'd done; it kept the dull ache under his skin at bay and buried in his voice too deep to betray him; everything was finite. 

Sometimes it wasn't a comfort, even to him. 

His gaze flickered towards the window as the car stopped, some part of him felt the tug of quiet spots and time dissolving all things away, the soft touch of it, as he always did in resting place, final places. Peaceful places. 

He offered Tanya an encouraging smile, setting aside the heaviness for later; time was moving terribly fast that day. 

SNOW

This was always going to be the end of this story, and the beginning of another. That was the shape of life– a river that flowed forward into a vast and indescribable ocean where things could settle, before the tide brought it back to a new shore, to start again.

Snow knew this. She knew it from the learnings as a wood witch and she knew it from her learnings as a necromancer. She had assisted many ghosts into the next world. 

But none of those conversations, those fleeting, fading friendships, had struck her as much as her friendship with Tanya. Tanya was not another ghost; she was a sister to her. Dear in all the ways that family was dear. And the closer to the end they approached, the more raw the pain throbbed inside of Snow. The more frightening it felt. She wanted to turn and run away, as though she were the little sister who could not face life’s realities. 

Snow fought against that fear, that panic, that premature grief. She smiled pleasantly and listened to the younger adults as they played around, made jokes, sang along to songs on the radio. She felt like a chaperone more than like she was part of it. But to chaperone was still an essential role– especially for a necromancer and her ghost. Snow reminded herself of that over and over.

She was doing this for Tanya. Tanya deserved a happy ending. 

She climbed out of the car and she greeted Sonam who was waiting for them already. She shook the woman’s hand, recognizing a flash of her own fear in the woman. But Sonam was not crying (yet, at least). And she had already turned to her little sister to smile along with everyone else. 

“Well, it certainly is a lovely day,” commented Snow, to help soothe any awkwardness. “Leeds was so overcast when we came last time, wasn’t it, Tanya? But that sunset is beautiful.” 

SONAM

Sonam’s heart thudded as she saw the car pull into the lot, recognizing it from the description her sister had sent her. This was it. The goodbye that she hadn’t gotten when she’d lost Tanya the first time, all those years ago.

Part of her felt selfish for keeping this from everyone else. Her parents, Tanya’s friends, extended family. But Tanya had been adamant. She didn’t want anyone else to know, because she was afraid they wouldn’t understand. After she had moved on, Tanya told her, Sonam could tell them the truth if she wanted to. She had always been a lot better at explaining things. But for now, as so often was the case for her as the eldest of the family, Sonam was the keeper of this secret.

She shook Snow’s hand, relieved that someone else she had met before was here. “It’s nice to see you again, Snow,” she replied, then turned her gaze toward the others spilling out of the car. 

Tanya’s friends in Swynlake— she’d mentioned that they would be here, too. Mim, King, and Zero. Unusual names, yes, but that checked out for Tanya.

And then there she was. Her sister.

TANYA

“Hey,” Tanya said, stepping forward to hug her. This wasn’t the desperate, dramatic hug of their last meeting, but something gentler. Still, she held on just a little longer than she needed to.  

She took a step back. “So, you know Snow, and this is Mim, King, and Zero,” Tanya said, gesturing to her friends. “They’re gonna come with us.” Sonam gave a little wave. Something in Tanya’s heart squeezed at the sight of all of them together, these people who had meant so much to her at different points of her afterlife. She hoped it wouldn’t be the last time they gathered, even without her.

“So… follow me, I remember the way. Sonam, we’re good on security, right?”

“Yeah, they won’t bother us,” Sonam assured her. She didn’t use her magic often these days, but a distraction spell did come in handy now and then when you needed a little privacy. 

MIM

Tanya had mentioned that her older sister would be there, but seeing her was still a jolt. Because she was old. 

Okay, not old old. But it was clear she was much older than Martin, and there were already people who questioned the ten year gap the Ambrosius siblings had. Seeing her and Tanya together, Sonam looked more like she could be Tanya’s mother than her sister. Or maybe it was a glimpse of who Tanya might have been if she’d gotten to grow up like that.

It was one of those little moments that brought home what had happened. What it had been like. The way time had moved on, but Tanya hadn’t. Until now. 

Waving when she was introduced, Mim fell into step close to Tanya as they began to walk.

ZERO

Zero had always thought that Tanya's mentioning life had seemed like in the distance sense, and seeing Sonam was another itch; he was uncomfortably aware of the presence of time passing in all things but with people it was almost like counting the days in terms of events rather than hands on the clock or grains tumbling through an hourglass. 

Sonam was older, Sonam had lived and lived, and Tanya had lived without her. Something struck him as heavy in that, but sometimes life was heavy. He offered a smile in return for the introduction (seemed like he was pulling up a lot of smiles that day but for Tanya, of course, yes) and stepped away from the car. 

Stepped into that goodbye, he supposed, with his tired bones knitted together with resolve over a promise he felt grateful to be able to keep. 

That hourglass tipped again and they were walking, together, the most ordinary thing in the world to do; as if there was anything ordinary at all that day. 

SNOW

They walked quietly, this party stitched together from different periods of life. Tanya’s past and her present. As they walked, all time merely blended together, as if it didn’t exist at all. Like this walk could go on forever, just as the drive could go on forever, just as one last conversation with Tanya could go on forever.

Yet time made itself known when they reached the grave. They all came to a stop, and it was a jarring reminder of the tick-tick-tick of the clock. 

Here was where Tanya’s story had stopped once before. 

Here it might stop again. 

No, thought Snow to herself– reminding herself again. It is not a stop. It is the start of something else. For too long had Tanya been stuck. This was her chance to be free. 

And since Snow was the necromancer, she took it upon herself to smile at Tanya. “Would you like to dig or shall I?” she asked. “I suppose we could all pitch in a little. That might be nice.”

TANYA

The last time Tanya came here, her energy had lurched violently, confronted with the very real fact of her death that she had been avoiding for so long. But it was different, now, approaching her grave. Maybe it was that she felt much more at peace about the whole thing, that she’d accepted that she was dead and that she was going to move on. 

Or maybe it had to do with all the people surrounding her, people who meant so much to her, from all these different points of her afterlife. At the center of it was Snow, who had come with her last time, who had guided her here from the beginning.

“Yeah, I think that would be nice too,” Tanya said, snapping out of her wandering thoughts. She set her backpack down and took out the urn, hugging it close to her chest before setting it down on the ground and picking up the shovel. She tossed some dirt aside and then offered it to King, who was standing next to her. “You want to do some?”

KING 

King had hung back as everyone walked, his hands itching out to hold onto someone, anyone. He glanced at everyone in their little ragtag group before taking a few quick steps forward so he could take Snow’s hand. A shrug of a smile as if that was the only thing he could do to explain why he had taken her hand. 

Until she offered to dig and he took a step back as some got to work. The dirt piled up and the grief built with it, creeping on slowly, unavoidable. Counting down the moments until the end.

Unlacing his fingers King accepted the shovel from Tanya with a nod, he would have done this with his bare hands just to help if it was needed. Digging a bit he offered it to the next person, his hands still itching, opening and closing again and again.

MIM

Mim took the shovel when it was her turn. She was trying not to think about the urn currently in Tanya’s arms. What it meant. The weirdness that came with what she knew had to rest inside. If she thought too much about it, she had a feeling she would start crying and she refused to fall apart. She had her pride. 

The handle of the shovel bit into her hands as it dug into the dirt. For a moment, she considered using a flash of magic to toughen up her hands, strengthen her muscles, something like that. But she didn’t. This wasn’t something she wanted made easier through magic. 

Once she’d dug her part, she looked over at Zero and handed the shovel off to him. 

It was only then she stepped over towards Tanya to pull her into a short hard hug. Despite her best intentions, she could feel tears pricking at her eyes anyway. “Te deseo lo mejor de lo mejor, mi mejor amiga,” she said softly enough that only Tanya could hear. 

Letting go, she went back to stand by Zero, taking in a deep breath and slowly releasing it. 

Zero

It felt strange to admit, even if it was only to himself, that graves felt like an odd sort of thing. He'd never fully wrapped his head around boxes in the ground rather than returning fully to the earth, but he respected it for what it was as a different custom. 

He'd never had any hand in digging one though, that thought lingered as he was handed the shovel. 

When he took it his eyes caught, only very briefly, at the new splash of color along his forearm, still healing, still fresh; but once it had it would remain inked into his skin as a reminder for days and years ahead. Days he would feel the absence, not as much with the ache of that day but the gratitude of the ones before it. 

He felt the age in the handle, in the soil as it turned over like a blanket. He liked to think that was what a grave was, ultimately; a blanket of earth secure, sheltering. It was too hard to think of it as anything else as he worked at that spot. The soil was old, anchoring, sheltering; although Tanya would hardly remain there, he thought. 

She had already remained; it was moving to whatever came next. 

As he handed off the shovel to the next person he saw the hints of the weight of the day in Mim, in King, Snow, knew it was there in himself, in everyone. But Tanya herself seemed lighter somehow, certain, and that was all Zero really needed to know. 

He moved to catch hold of her hands, to speak to her quietly, to smile. "Wherever it is you're going next, I know you'll burn just as bright there; I'll never forget how you did here." His voice held steady, he gave her hands a squeeze, then he stepped back. 

SNOW

Snow was the last to dig.

How many graves had she dug before at this point? No one besides Tanya knew this about her. They probably looked at Snow, in her long skirts and dresses and perfectly pinned hair and thought she’d never held a shovel before. But she had– a hundred times by now. 

Yet this grave was not any grave. She gripped the shovel too tightly for a moment, as her tears rose to the surface.

With one breath, she eased her own heartbreak and the tears receded. Then she put the shovel to the earth and she dug. Just a few more shovels were needed, and then they hit the box which had once contained Tanya’s urn.

“Here we are,” said Snow. She knelt down and cleaned away more of the dirt, this time with her hand. It felt too coarse to do so with the shovel. Her eyes once again filled with tears. Here they were, at the beginning of everything. She thought of planting flowers with her mother in the garden. 

They’d plant Tanya’s soul here too. And let it grow. Let it go. 

Snow straightened again and she turned to Tanya. The tears shined in her eyes, but she smiled through them as she stepped forward and gave Tanya a gentle hug. When she pulled away, her hands lingered on Tanya’s shoulders. “I’m so happy I got to be your sister, Tanya. Even if just for a little while,” she murmured to her. “I’m so proud of you.” 

And then with one last squeeze of Tanya’s shoulders, Snow stepped back. The next part Tanya had to do on her own. 

TANYA

Sonam took the shovel back while Tanya stepped forward, holding onto the urn tightly. Everything made sense now. It was always supposed to happen this way. Unearthing the urn with Snow had been the first moment in a chain reaction that led her exactly to this point.

Which wasn’t to say the path here was predictable. The evidence that it wasn’t stood all around her, the friends who had joined her along the way, who had taught her lessons she hadn’t even known she needed to learn and showed her love, so much love, so much love and grace and kindness that Tanya just couldn’t believe that it would all end here, cold dirt in the ground and cold ash in an urn. All of that love had to go somewhere. 

And maybe that was what Tanya had been afraid of from the beginning. That her life, cut so short, hadn’t meant anything. That because she’d never accomplished all of the things she planned on, it was a waste. So she clung to a half-life, slowly losing hope and hiding behind the monster she thought she had to be.

But now she could see that it had meant something. Her first life and her afterlife. It just looked a little different from what she had expected.

Tanya crouched down and set the urn down in the ground, and then she stood up and turned around again. Her eyes blurred with tears, but she was smiling as they scanned across the small group gathered around her. None of them were perfect people, but they were exactly who she’d needed. Sonam, who never gave up on her. King, who forgave her. Zero, who understood her. Mim, who saw her at her worst and loved her anyway. Snow, who became her family. It was all about this, at the end of it, wasn’t it? It was about these people, and if she meant half as much to them as they’d meant to her, well, in a way, she’d live forever.

One by one, they said their goodbyes. And Tanya didn’t necessarily need the words; she felt all of it deep in her heart. But sometimes it was important to say things, she knew. For your own sake, and for the sake of others. Warmth glowed inside her, and seeing the way her friends looked back at her, Tanya knew she was ready.

“Thank you. All of you,” Tanya said. A breeze blew in and her hair whipped across her face. For a moment, like wind feeding a flame, she seemed to burn brighter. And then, in an instant that you would miss if you blinked, there was only a faint wisp of smoke. 

[sansaorgana]

I haven't had any expectations of the finale and yet I'm still disappointed. You see, I had a feeling Ted would leave and Beard would stay for Jane and that Beard, Roy and Nate would continue as coaches. But I didn't like how they were making me feel hopeful until the very end that Ted might actually decide to stay:

– Everyone kept telling him to stay like literally everyone he was seeing.

– He admitted Richmond's his home.

– His son and ex-wife were excited about the game while her boyfriend acted like a dickhead. I thought it meant she'd leave him and agree to move to the UK because they'd want to be with Ted and they'd see how much his job means to him so it would be cruel to make him go back.

– Ted acted very weird for the whole episode. He reacted oddly distant to the goodbyes and he seemed dead inside. He was absolutely not happy to go back to the USA.

I also find some final solutions too simple like Rebecca magically finding her fling from Netherlands. Some part of me believes this sentence was really a dream which would make sense but the other part of me doesn't want to believe it was a dream because then we'd be left without knowing absolutely anything about our beloved character's future – only that Ted is still dead inside while staring at his son and other kids playing football.

[jessicaortease]

Maybe it made Jess a bit of an asshole, but there was something weirdly satisfying about the deer-in-headlights look on Marley’s face as she stared back at Maddie. It wasn’t so much that there was anything wrong with Maddie, not really, but Jessie couldn’t help but feel content with how shy and quiet Marley had become under her gaze – particularly given how cuddly and upbeat the blonde tended to be in her company. Clearly Jessie just had the magic touch – or so she liked to tell herself, anyway. 

Jess found herself so distracted by reading Marley’s features that her attention had been pulled, arguably too easily, from the fact that her dickhead of a boyfriend was currently throwing up in the living room and making a general nuisance of himself. Resisting the urge to roll her eyes again, Jessie exhaled slowly and finally turned her attention back to the alleged object of all her desires – all 5 foot 9 of him, vomit now trickling down his chin as he leered at Kelly, another one of their mutual friends, pouring all of his attention on her plunging neckline as opposed to putting in any effort to keep himself upright. 

Nights like these, Jessie wondered why she hadn’t just broken up with him. She didn’t love him – not by a long shot – and his eyes wandered more often than not. Between the want for threesomes that she’d told Marley about, and her own lack of loyalty, the two of them weren’t exactly a picture perfect couple. Besides, she and Jared didn’t really have sex with each other anymore. Or rather, they had what he’d refer to as sex, and what Jessica would refer to as a strange tickling sensation between her legs that lasted 2-3 minutes – on a good day – as he veered somewhere to the left of her clit. 

Truthfully, as guilty as she often felt when sleeping around, she didn’t think it made all that much of a difference to their relationship. As long as it had been going on, she had no doubt in her mind that Jared had strayed too. And, at the very least, Jessie had gotten slightly better at keeping her sexual partners close, rather than picking up random guys in bars, she usually opted for friends she knew and could trust. Not that Louis was delivering the goods anymore; The two of them had long since called a stop to their random hookups, now that Wardo was back to being a more permanent fixture in his life. Jessie thought it was strange, in a sense. Louis seemed to have no concern for Jared or the fact that Jessie was cheating on him, yet had an overwhelming sense of loyalty to a man that he could barely string a sentence together in front of, never mind have the good sense to dick down. Still, she thought it was oddly romantic, and sort of envied his commitment to the sasquatch. 

“Wait, huh?” Jessie pouted, tipping her head to the side to take Marley in. As much as she adored the girl and definitely didn’t want to be saying goodbye for the night, she also didn’t want to lump her with the responsibility of getting Jared home. She’d seen him in much sorrier states, but she didn’t want to subject anybody else to his skeevy, drunken ramblings – much less Marley. “No, it’s totally fine. You don’t have to do that.” 

Before she could protest further, Marley was already making her way towards Jared, tugging off her hoody in the process. Selfishly, Jessie found herself lingering in the doorway for a moment, eyes roaming the curves of Marley’s body as she walked away. Her t-shirt was thin and her boobs looked immaculate, and Jessie’s mind ran rogue with visuals of dragging her tongue along the other girl’s nipples – that was what Jared was doing to her, of course, leaving her so horny and dissatisfied that she was fantasizing about her girlfriends too. 

She was pulled instantly from her reverie as Jared’s words filled the air, his rancid remarks directed at Marley, but making Jessie’s stomach turn as though they were meant for herself. Urging forward, she came to Marley’s side just in time, slapping Jared’s hand away as she watched as he tried to snake it around the blonde’s waist. Crinkling her nose in disgust, she tugged at the hem of his shirt and lifted it, swiping at his chin to clear away the sick that was now caked along his jaw. 

“I got him, don’t worry,” Jessie tried to offer Marley a reassuring smile, but was certain it looked more like a grimace. 

As she pulled Jared’s shirt further up his body, a little more forcefully than she’d intended, she couldn’t help but wonder just why Marley was helping her. Sure, she was her friend, but nobody else in the room seemed interested in getting Jared home, and Jess was pretty sure they’d all happily leave him there slumped over on the carpet if they had it their way. Yet, Marley seemed to jump straight into action, approaching him with care and a gentle nature that Jess had never seemed able to possess when he got like this. 

Once he was out of his shirt, she reached for Marley’s hoody, and slowly tried to maneuver it over his head, audible groaning as he resisted, his hands moving to Jessie’s hips instead as he tried to pull her closer. She stumbled as she crowded him, her knees almost buckling beneath her, a slew of curse words on the tip of her tongue as she glared at her idiot boyfriend. 

“Jared, if you don’t stop being an asshole, it’s Marley I’ll be taking home tonight, not you,” she snapped at him, a high blush creeping up her cheeks as she realised just what she’d said. Not that Jared would take any notice, she imagined, but she didn’t wanna freak Marley out entirely. 

Cringing, she busied herself with tugging the fabric down his chest, surprised by just how quiet and sheepish he was suddenly being, before shooting he friend a sideways glance. 

“Sorry. I didn’t mean... Sorry.” 

“Just new?” Marley settled for. She thought that Maddie was nice, but had never entertained the idea of her beyond that. They weren’t exactly friends, more like acquaintances, and even now Marley was telling herself that the tiny brunette probably wouldn’t have the same alleged crush on her if she actually knew Marley. She wasn’t trying to be self-deprecating - hell knows, Diego never let her talk down about herself when he was around - but she thought that if Maddie did like girls, then surely she’d prefer someone a little more delicate and bookish. Someone like Katie would be more her type, now that she thought about it. Which didn’t make an awful lot of sense seeing as Katie was also Marley’s type as well. Hey, maybe Katie Murdock was just everyone’s type. The O-neg of lesbian crushes.

At Jess’ question, she tipped her head to the side. She’d been too busy trying to convince herself she definitely wasn’t Maddie’s type that she hadn’t even thought about the other way round.

“I’m not sure if I have a type. I mean… all girls are kind of my type,” she said, before she felt her cheeks turn red. It was supposed to be a joke. Jokes were her thing. But it had fallen flat and left her looking like she was desperate enough to go with any girl who would have her. And was that so far removed from the truth? She helplessly pined after Poppy, made a goddamn Goodreads account just to add Katie on it and now she was even entertaining the thought of getting to know Maddie just because it was some positive attention for her. She needed to get a grip.

Eyebrows flying upwards in surprise at Jessie’s statement, she wasn’t sure if she was more surprised by the content of the declaration, or just the fact that this was information that Jessie had on hand.

“Wait, really? How do you even know that stuff?” Maybe Marley was just severely lacking in female friends, but she didn’t think she’d ever gleaned a tidbit like that about someone else’s sex life that she only sort of knew. Hell, even with Diego, she found herself yelling a loud la la la and childishly clamping her hands over her ears whenever she was in danger of hearing him be particularly vocal about his sexcapades. 

She held onto Jessie tightly as they hugged, hoping that she could provide the other girl with some comfort, when the source of her annoyance loudly called her name. Glancing up to see Jared waving a bottle at them as he tried to get his girlfriend’s attention, Marley’s gaze slipped back to Jess. The girl looked none too happy about it and Marley wrinkled her nose in sympathy.

“Boys,” she muttered with a shrug.

And then Maddie showed up. Standing a little straighter, the wink that the other girl gave her was hard to miss and Marley felt every single one of her limbs lock into place as she stood still, frozen where she was and completely unable to react like a normal human being. By the time she recovered, she let out a quiet, “hi” but Maddie had already moved on to talk to Jess.

The corner of her mouth tugged downwards when she realised that Jess was probably now due to escort a wasted Jared back home. Sparing a selfish moment to be sad about the other girl’s impending departure, it took Marley a minute to realise there was a commotion coming from the living room.

“Jared, you fucking douchebag!”

“He threw up on the couch!”

Dread settled in Marley’s stomach as she grimaced and poked her head around the living room door where, sure enough, Jared was sitting on the sofa, completely out of it and wearing more of his own puke than anything else. Half the people in the room were doing everything they could to get away from him while the other half were howling with laughter and trying to take a photo of him. Probably to embarrass him in the morning.

Marley couldn’t say she was in either camp. If anything, she was just struck with the dumb urge to cry.

She knew that Jared wasn’t in any immediate danger - unless Jess wanted to smack him, of course, which she was well within her right to do - but the sight of him sitting pathetically in a stained shirt with half-lidded eyes reminded her too much of the sorry states she’d find her dad in sometimes, that she was more sorry for him than anything.

Hand gripping the doorframe, she turned back to Jess and reached out to gently squeeze the other girl’s shoulder.

“Hey, I’ll help you get him back, alright?” she offered, knowing from experience that an already tall man would weigh a lot more if he wasn’t interested in using his own feet to start walking. It wasn’t a one-person job, even though she knew Jess was way stronger than her from all the gym selfies on her Instagram.

Pulling off her own baggy hoodie and leaving herself in her thin t-shirt, she crossed the living room until she was kneeling down in front of Jared.

“Jared? Hey, buddy,” she said gently, feeling a breath of relief leave her when he lifted his head a little in recognition. “You wanna take your shirt off for me?”

A smile tugged at his lips and she tried to return it with one of her own. Up until the asshole had to ruin it.

“I knew you wanted me out of my clothes, Marls,” he slurred.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” she muttered, pushing a hand against her face in despair before lifting her head to send Jess a pleading look.

“Help me out? I’m not carrying him along the street when he stinks of puke.”

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

[4:41 pm] 

(cw: food)

You and Doyoung are both very stubborn and somewhat dramatic people. It’s not uncommon for little disagreements to turn into days of silence and passive aggressive actions to further bother the other until finally, one of you cracked. Then all the feelings would pour out in a healthy way, you would talk out your problems, find a solution that worked for the both of you, and voila! Everything was fixed and good until the next argument came along. 

Now, was not the fix it stage however. Now was the we’re in a fight and I don’t want to speak or even hear you breathe stage of the disagreement, also known as the day after the fight. So the usually happy home was filled with awkward, uncomfortable silence. 

This of course meant that on this very busy day for Doyoung he left with no goodbye kiss, no breakfast together, no coffee made for him because usually he would wake you up, but not today. Today he tugged the blankets more tightly around himself and laid in bed for an extra 15 minutes which left him with barely enough time to get to the studio for his recording session. Oddly seeing his backpack packed by the door ready for the day- he didn’t remember packing it the night before.

When it came time for a break after a few hours of learning new choreography a manager came in, arms bearing bags upon bags of food. The manager brought the food to Doyoung, leaving him confused. “Y/N sent it for you all,” the manager explained quickly.

As grateful as Doyoung was, so tired and hungry from such a long and busy day, he was also annoyed. Were you trying to one up him? Why were you acting like you were better than him? He huffed, setting the boxes of food out for his members before he grabbed his phone and huffily stomped out of the room. 

The members gave each other confused looks, asking each other what crawled up his butt- not worried or concerned enough to follow. He seemed fine. 

The line rang for a few seconds before you finally picked up the call with a “Hello?”

“Why did you send food?” Doyoung asked bluntly.

“I knew you guys would be hungry, you’re welcome.”

“But we’re fighting right now.”

“And we’ll still be fighting when you get home, but just because we’re fighting doesn’t mean I don’t love you or don’t care for your well-being. Enjoy the meal and we can talk when we get home.”

Doyoung felt his face get hot, a reluctant smile taking over his face, “Okay, I love you.”

“I love you too, please eat and get home safe. I’ll wait for you.”

Doyoung made his way back to the room, settling into his spot with his food. He felt better now, the day didn’t seem as long, he didn’t feel as tired, he just felt better.

“You should buy Y/N flowers for putting up with you,” he heard.

“No, buy Y/N a car!”

“Y/N deserves a whole house!”

“Don’t make him too mad, then he’ll get moody with us.”

“I hate you guys.”

-

short one this week! I couldn’t think of anything else to add... 

[laughableillusions]

Goodnight Michael

Hi so I finished Halloween Ends and wanted to write something of Madcap/Sam saying goodbye to him when its all over. [SPOILERS FOR HALLOWEEN ENDS UNDER THE CUT]

The morning was warm oddly enough, the morning after it all finally ended. It was as if the Earth itself had let out a breath of relief. The monster was finally gone. Michael Myers had finally been destroyed, completely destroyed. Any life that was left inside him had been lost within that trash grinder. And that was that. No loose ends, no missing body, and no more mask. The clean up was quick, and not even the grass showed any sign of the cleansing. Still brown and dying, just another autumn morning. The leaves crunched under the man’s footsteps as he walked, huddled in an old leather pilot coat, dirty oxfords and a faded yellow Hawaiian button-down. His hair was willy in his old age, but still puffed around his head in gray curls, like a clown. The town knew him as Sam, a drifter who had simply stopped in Haddonfield, and stayed there. He would ask for money sometimes, offering to juggle or tell a good joke, and otherwise was one of the cleaner-looking homeless rabble. It was little known of his past, only that he had been a performer of some kind. In the past he would turn up just on Halloween, like an omen of what was to come. And he disappeared just as fast. If asked he would say he was here for the spectacle of it, whatever that meant nobody could tell. But that was just Sam. His strangeness was attributed to his poverty, and that was that.

And now, at the end of everything. He was here. He walked along the cleaned grass, humming to himself as he walked. A cigarette perched in his lips, until he stopped. He stopped, and stood. The metal grinder stood back, the only evidence of the night before. The last Halloween. He circled it slowly, just humming and circling, almost as if he was comforting it. Then he climbed up onto the bed of it, squatting down in front of the geers and breathed smoke into the abyss. “Hello Sweatpea.” He said, smiling. He pressed a hand to the metal.  “Sometimes I really don’t know how you get into these situations, but you really can’t let life grind you down you know?”

He chuckled, but his smile turned sad.

“Too soon?”

Sam took a drag from his cigarette before throwing it into the grinder.

“You deserve it I think, you’ve had a rough night.” He patted the metal. “But I won’t keep you long, just wanna say my goodbyes is all.”

He stood up again, leaning against the metal shelf.

“I’ll be blunt, don’t worry.” He warned, smiling again.

“I can’t say that this is how I expected it to end, somehow I thought it would be more of a viking funeral. Perhaps it’s too late to say that I wanted to collect some ashes for myself, for old times sake you know. But, this was it…the final curtain for you.”

Sam’s voice then shook, as his eyes became wet and he sniffled.

“I’m sorry, I’m just so proud. I’m so proud of you kitty, I’m so proud that you got this far. I’m so proud that I got to know you. But, well I’m also sad. Not to say that the timing was bad, but well…maybe I wish it wasn’t you first?”

A tear fell from his cheek, he wiped it away quickly.

“We both knew this was coming of course, but I guess I just didn’t really think it would happen. You’ve died so many times that maybe you’d really just get up from this one. You’d get up and look at me and I’d say something like “See it wasn’t that bad!” and then you’d make me buy you pancakes and that terrible black coffee.”

He sighed, slumping down to sit.

“The truth is Michael, I’m gonna miss you. Bad. Even if you didn’t think that was possible, even if you were just a void or some all consuming evil trapped in a man’s body. I loved you, no. I love you. I know you know that, and I know you love me as well. But, I won’t be able to feel it anymore. I won’t see it. When I looked in your eyes, it was you. And now there won’t be you anymore. I don’t know.”

More tears fell, too many to swipe away. His lip trembled and his voice was breaking.

“I’m old now Michael, I’m just an old man. Was it selfish of me to think we’d put this behind us? Go settle in the wilderness somewhere, just the 2 of us. No more driving, no more stealing, a little less killing. Not none of course, but less. Maybe we could’ve had a lazy old cat that we’d feed the mice…things like that. But I don’t regret what we had, and God knows I don’t hate you for it. Maybe just once I want to hold you again, real close, like when we were kids and you had nightmares. Maybe then I wouldn’t be sitting here, crying some boring old eulogy bullshit. I don’t want you worrying down there, because I know you worry, and I want you to sleep. I want you to sleep so deep and so well that you won’t even hear this.”

With trembling hands he fished out a crumpled cigarette box from his coat pocket,and lit it  with a chipped red zippo lighter. He took a drag, letting out a shaky sigh.

“I’ll be there soon though, so don't worry about waiting either. But I won’t try to accelerate it or anything, you don’t have to worry about taking care of me anymore, no sir-ey. So you just sleep. You sleep and you let me handle the rest, okay? Just right now, right now let me…let me say my goodbyes.”

He closed his eyes, laying his head back against the wall. Letting his long legs splay out in front of him. He sat like that for a while, puffing lazily on his cigarette as he sniffled. Saying nothing more, but resting all the same.

The sun moved slowly in the sky, flashing in slow motion as it passed behind the clouds. The wind would swirl around him sometimes, brushing by his face in different directions. It was like he had died right there too. A silent and calm death, right at the mouth of violence.

But instead he opened his eyes, throwing the cigarette he had burned through over the wall behind him. Slowly he stood, groaning in the way only an old man groaned as he straightened.

He stood back over the mouth of the grinder, resting a hand onto it and closing his eyes. He took a long breath, leaning his head down onto the cold metal.

Memories played against that piece of steel, not always of this town, but of others. Stuffy hospital rooms, drafty motel rooms that smelled of bleach and piss, the sting of fluorescent lights, the taste of nauseating sweetness and the smell of blood and sweat and skin. A turmoil of a life lived too fast with someone who would walk too slow. They always came back here. Back to where it began. Its physical origin is now gone, but the memories of those dusty walls and crumbling floors remained.

Sam then stood again, letting out a shaky breath. But for a moment, there was a warmth from behind him. A shadow of a thought, but a presence. A silent, motionless presence.

He didn’t turn around just yet, just stared at his dulled reflection in the metal. Just behind him, what perhaps was just an imperfection in the material, looked to be a shape, Just barely peeking out. Sam smiled, wiping away the last of his tears.

“Goodnight Michael.” He said quietly, finally turning around.

The autumn breeze blew past him, the trees providing nothing but a whisper against it. And from that, Sam left that place. Leaving the tomb to let its precious dead rest

[sirowsky]

Part 16 - Back to Normal

Pero Tovar and Female Reader (nicknamed Bee) Modern AU

Time passes and with it, life moves on. But how do you return to a life that has been burned away? The threat of the Falcons is gone and you're preparing to build a family with Pero, but nothing is the same and you have a lot to adjust to.

Creator chooses not to use Warnings! This is 18+ONLY! I’m happy to elaborate on what to expect from this part via DM. Also, to those of you that have patiently waited nearly 4 months for this, THANK YOU!

Word Count: 4854 Masterlist(this story) Author’s Masterlist

Link to Part 17

<><><><><><><><><>

   You were unreasonably nervous for such a simple call, but the phone in your hand felt like it might electrocute you once you hit the call-button.    There were three positive pregnancy tests on the sink in front of you, so it was just a matter of setting up an appointment with your OBGYN, no big deal.    So, why was it such a big fucking deal?

   It was only 9am, it could wait.    Somehow feeling like you’d just been outfoxed by your own baby for the first time, you left the bathroom and went downstairs, where the next challenge awaited you. And this one really was a big deal.

   You’d spent hours on the phone with your insurance-company and bank over the past couple of weeks, trying to figure out what to do about the studio. About your future.    It mattered so much more now, when things would soon change so completely. You had to have a plan, a way to make sure that your child would be cared for, no matter what.    But it had made a huge difference when you’d finally been able to see a doctor about your hand, and then had a few sessions with a physical therapist that specialized in hand-injuries.

   What you’d learned from that was that the soft-tissue damage had been less extensive than your father had thought, which meant a greater chance of a complete recovery.    Choosing to take that as undiluted hope, you’d decided that you were gonna rebuild your business after all. And since the fire had now been fully investigated and you’d been proven innocent of any wrongdoing yourself, your insurance would cover almost all the costs for the rebuild.

   Which was why you and Pero were now moving back to your house, much to the disappointment of your father.    You’d been living with him for almost eight weeks by then, and he’d gotten used to the house being lively and to having people around all the time. And now, knowing that there was a baby on the way, he was only all the more keen to have you close by.

   “Please, stop moping, dad. We’ll be back next week for Christmas dinner,” you pleaded, while reaching up to hug him goodbye.

   “I’m not moping. I’m allowed to be sad that I won’t see you for a week,” he countered, making you smile at his measly defiance.

   “Yeah, that makes total sense, because we used to see each other only once a month,” you lovingly mocked, making him pout. “We’re just a phone call away,” you promised, kissing his cheek before heading out into the front hall while Pero said his goodbyes.

   Oddly enough, it had been a tougher decision for him than for you.    It wasn’t that hard to understand, though. Pero had discovered what it was to have a loving family by coming here and getting to know your father, and that alone was enough to make him wanna have the man close.    Put the added stress of burgeoning fatherhood on his shoulders, and the comfort it would be to have someone around that had already gone through it, and it was totally understandable that he wasn’t overly happy about leaving.

   You were scared too, but that was also why you felt the need to go, before you started depending too much on your dad. It was great to know that he’d be there if you had any questions, or to help you navigate the pitfalls of parenting, but you also needed to know that you could handle yourself.    Plus, him and his house wasn’t going anywhere. You could always come back.

   The drive home was heavy somehow. Quiet. But once you got there, it really did feel like coming home, for both of you.    This was where it had all started, where you’d let him in and changed everything, and now, not even three months later, you walked back into that kitchen and remembered every moment, good and bad.

   You wouldn’t change any of it. Not if it meant the slightest risk that you wouldn’t end up right where you were now.    Because as strange as it seemed, it felt like your life had only just now begun. As if you’d been standing in the start-blocks for over thirty years, trying to push off but being held back by something, and meeting Pero had finally set you free.

   The leaves had all fallen now, and a thin layer of crisp white snow covered everything outside, turning the view from the living room windows into a fairytale landscape.    The house sat on top of a small ridge, so the back of it was a bit higher off the ground than the front, and the trees next to the back-porch weren’t that tall, all of which gave the illusion that you were higher off the ground than you actually were, looking out the French doors.

   If you stepped out onto the veranda, you could see that the little dip in the landscape wasn’t all that dramatic, and you didn’t need to look very far before the ground came back up to eye-level. But from the living room, especially in winter, it looked like the house was floating, and you loved that.

   Unfortunately, though, a generous amount of dust had accumulated in the time you’d been gone, so you had to start by cleaning everything, which took all day and left both you and Pero exhausted.    Going to bed and just snuggling up in the freshly changed sheets, you were both too tired for anything more than a kiss goodnight.

   But the next morning, you woke up in an altogether different mood.    You couldn’t remember having dreamt anything, or if there had been some other trigger, but it was the ache in your sex that actually woke you up, and the moment you did, it intensified to such an extent that you had to throw the covers off with how hot you suddenly were.

   Pero was on his stomach but angled towards you, with one leg pulled up and tangled with yours, so you grabbed and lifted it to unceremoniously roll him onto his back, which obviously woke him up.    But before he’d had a chance to get his bearings, you’d already climbed on top of him and started rubbing yourself against his soft cock, soaking him in your search for relief.

   He wasn’t far behind, though. With just a few strokes of your pussy over his length, he was hardening, his breath picking up speed to match your own, and his hands grabbing at the points on your thighs that he knew spurred you on.    He didn’t try and roll you or assume control, content to just stay there and let you work him, let you take what you needed while he followed your lead, pushing into your movements to give you more friction.

   And even though you knew that he preferred more contact, that he was happy to watch you move for a bit but would rather feel you against as much of his body as possible, he didn’t attempt to pull you down. Even when you couldn’t take the emptiness anymore, and harshly slammed down over him, taking all of him in one go with a wet squelch, he didn’t try and move you.

   He met your frantic thrusts, helping you stay balanced with both hands on your hips, as you rode him hard, relishing in the feel of him, somehow both hard and soft, and so perfect in the way he filled you.    It wasn’t long before you were already closing in on that sweet relief. The pressure in your entire abdomen surged down to that one spot, before exploding back out, taking those exquisite little vibrations of pleasure through your blood and nerves, making every inch of you tingle and spark.

   Only once your body had calmed, turned soft and pliant again, did he finally pull you down to his chest and roll you under him, so that he could keep moving for those last few thrusts that sent him into the stars with you.    His gentle but strong movements prolonged your own climax, sending you into a miniature second one, which somehow wrung all energy from your frame, leaving you half aware and half asleep, somewhere between dream and reality.

   You wandered aimlessly through a colour-filled landscape made of your own pleasure, floating away towards distant worlds, while you could still feel him there with you, his skin against yours, his pounding heart building a thunderous soundtrack to the dream he couldn’t see.    You knew that it wasn’t real, but it still felt like a part of you were transported somewhere else, and that part couldn’t tell what was real and what wasn’t.

   But then abruptly, it changed. Going from colourful to dark, floating to falling, until you broke away from it with a sudden fear that it would swallow you.    Pero was not a small or light person, but you heaved him off you and all but threw him to the side of the bed, before you scrambled up and jumped to the floor, feverishly looking around to try and locate the source of that dark and ominous sensation, only to find nothing but yourself.

   “Pintora…? What happened?” he asked, carefully moving closer to the foot of the bed as you began pacing, too full of nervous energy when the realization started to dawn on you.

   “Fucking hormones… I was half asleep and dreaming this beautiful dream. And then in half a second it was suddenly terrifying.”

   “Hormones can do this to you?” he questioned with an incredulous brow, and you scoffed.

   “Oh, just you wait. My mother once told me that when she was pregnant, she not only suffered with night-terrors, but even daytime waking dreams. Hallucinations. From fucking hormones,” you explained, and he turned a shade paler where he sat on the edge of the bed.

   “I do not like the sound of this. Perhaps you should see a doctor?”

   “Yeah, I will, but odds are that they won’t be able to do much about these kinds of things. It’s because of the pregnancy and they can’t mess with that, partly because it’s dangerous and partly because they just… can’t. Nothing really works.”

   You stopped pacing when hearing that made him truly uneasy, putting your hands on either side of his head and meeting his eyes.

   “Hey, it’s gonna be okay. None of this is dangerous, exactly, just scary and uncomfortable,” you tried to reassure him, but it was too late.

   The idea that you might be about to suffer nightmares and hallucinations for the next roughly seven months, quickly made an unsettling home in his mind, tainting his joy about becoming a father with a fear that it would somehow cost you too much.    You could see every nuance of that fear in his eyes, the questions stacking themselves a mile high on his shoulders, unwittingly making him wonder if this was a mistake.    You stepped closer and lightly shook his head, to make sure that he was listening.

   “Pero Tovar, you banish those thoughts from your mind, right now,” you started, and he flinched slightly at the sudden harshness of your tone. “I love you, and I want this, and if you even try and suggest that this is too much or too hard, so help me I will kick your sweet little ass.”

   “No, I would never sugge...” he scrambled to explain but couldn’t seem to find the words. “I just never considered what it might do to you… I don’t want you to suffer for this.”

   You almost laughed at that.

   “Babe, even if this were to go perfectly smoothly, I’d still suffer at some point. That’s just what happens when you grow a person,” you said, smiling to let him know that you were fully prepared to endure any discomfort for this, before you decided to remind him of something very important.

   “I killed people to keep this little thing alive. Nightmares aren’t ever gonna feel worse than that, no matter how bad they get. Because at the end of the day, those aren’t real, whereas the blood on my hands is, and always will be.    But I can live with that, precisely because I did it to protect my baby.”

   He looked at you with such sadness, hearing that, but there was pride somewhere in the back of his eyes too. His hands came to your hips, tugging you right up to his chest, forcing him to crane his neck backwards to keep looking at you.

   “You are the bravest person I have ever met. To lock away your fears like that and just not allow anyone to stop you… not many people without experience can do this,” he said, the sadness giving way to the pride now. “I know you can do this, amor. I do not doubt this at all, and I want it too, you cannot think otherwise.    But I will never do well with seeing you hurt, no matter the reason, you must understand this.”

   You dug your fingers into his hair, softly massaging his scalp to get that worried little wrinkle between his eyebrows to smooth out.    He enjoyed it so much that his eyes fell shut and he rested his chin against your belly so that he could completely relax his neck, a small ‘mmm’ humming in the back of his throat.

   “I don’t think that I can ever fully understand what it means to you, getting to have this kind of stability and permanence after the life you’ve lived,” you started, talking low and hushed not to disturb the harmony that was settling into his being. “But I can promise you that I’ll always listen to you.”

   He pulled you down into his lap then, just so that he could hug you properly, neither of you finding the need for any more words in that moment.

   After breakfast you took Groot for a nice long walk in the woods together, and then continued into town, heading for the studio to see for yourselves that it really was gone.    It wasn’t a very large space, it had never needed to be, and without any walls or spatial indicators, it somehow seemed a lot smaller than you remembered.    You felt like something inside of you deflated at the sight, as though you’d lost some crucial component to your overall makeup that robbed you of a major function.

   You’d thought that it wouldn’t be a particularly crushing sight, given all the shit that you’d survived since fleeing this building, but it damned near suffocated you.    Not because of the bad memories, though. It was all the happy ones, all the wonderful things you’d created there, the smiles on your client’s faces, the peacefulness that stepping in there had always given you… all of which was forever lost now.    So much of your original work had gone up in flames, never to be recovered or restored.

   And even though you’d already known that in your head, it was so different to see it with your eyes. To see the gaping emptiness that used to be such a central part of your existence.    There was literally nothing left.

   “I can’t do this…” you breathed as you came to a stop by the curb, tugging Pero to a stop as well, since he was holding your hand.

   You couldn’t tell how he reacted because you had to close your eyes to keep from staring at the charred concrete floor that was the only remaining fragment of the past.

   “Okay… You don’t have to. Why don’t we visit Claire? Get something warm to drink,” he suggested, and you nodded.

   You weren’t really in the mood for consuming anything, but it would get you out of there and that was enough for now.

<><><><><><><> 

   Pero couldn’t quite put himself in your shoes this time, because he’d never had something of his own like your studio. A place where he was rooted and had a base of memories that he’d built and accumulated by himself.    But he did understand loss and that was what he saw in you right then. A terrible loss.    He only suggested visiting Claire because he knew that she was someone that belonged to that same past, except she was still here, which he hoped might be enough to make you feel better.

   Groot could sense your anxiousness and stayed glued to your side, nudging your gloved hand every now and then to remind you that he was there and would happily soak up your pains no matter how bad they were.    It took a while, but you eventually started responding to his attempts, shortly before you reached your destination. This time, you didn’t leave him outside, though.    You needed the canine’s comfort, so you brought him into the café and took a seat close to the door, in case another guest complained.

   “I will make our orders,” Pero told you and then headed for the counter.

   There were no other guests there at the time, as it was too early for lunch and too late for breakfast, so Claire was occupying herself with decorating pastries in the kitchen area.

   “Hey, Cee,” he called as he reached the counter, and heard her bustle about back there.

   “Pero? Is that you?” she called back before popping out from behind the swivelling door. “Well, I’ll be damned; You’re alive!”

   She chuckled and came to the counter, scanning the rest of the café for you, but losing her smile when she found you and saw that you weren’t doing so good.

   “Oh, you’ve been to see it, haven’t you?” she correctly guessed, and he nodded, making her sigh with sadness. “It’s such a tragedy. She worked so hard for that place, and then all the art she kept there that’s just gone now… Poor girl.”

   “She could use a pick-me-up,” he suggested, and she smiled slightly.

   “I’ve got just the thing,” she said with a wink. “Take your seat, I’ll bring it out in a minute.”

   He knew that she wasn’t gonna let him pay for this treat, whatever it was, so he left a generous tip in the jar on the counter once she’d turned her back, and then returned to the table and took a seat beside you.    And when he gently put his hand on your thigh, suddenly it was as though your mind cracked open and you couldn’t stop the torrent of thoughts that poured out.

   “What am I gonna do? I had dozens of commissions queued… The computer was linked to my phone, so I have all the numbers, but I can’t even draw, perhaps not for another year and that’s without any guarantees that I’ll ever get back to the same level of skill.    Should I call all those people and tell them that yeah, you might get your drawing in a year or two, or maybe not at all?    They’re not gonna wait that long, and without strong client-recommendations I don’t have a hope in hell of keeping my good reputation, or attracting new customers.    What was I thinking? I can’t build my future on this, I can’t hang the future of our child on something so uncertain…” you rambled on, and he let you, but at the mention of the baby, he decided that you’d spiralled far enough.

   “Stop that now,” he admonished, taking your injured hand in both of his. “Keep the baby away from this, mi amor, because its future is not solely dependant on you. I will never let our child go hungry or be without a roof over its head, you know this.    You are just trying to bring yourself down because you are hurting, but it will not make anything better.”

   “But this is who I am, Pero. I’m an artist. If I can’t draw then-…”

   “Then you will find another way to understand the world,” he cut you off, reminding you of that first conversation you’d had with him in the studio, when he’d confessed to spying on you. “Your heart is not one to be silenced. It will find a way to shine, and no matter what happens, you will be alright.”

   “I second that,” Claire announced as she approached the table, balancing two large cups and a plate of gingerbread cookies on a tray. “You, my dear, are your mother’s daughter.    Faith was no quitter, and she would never have allowed you to talk yourself down like this.”

   She put the treats on the table and then placed a large, strong hand on your shoulder, urging you to look at her.

   “Being an artist isn’t about making perfect things, it’s about creating what your heart shows you. And there are a thousand ways to do that, with or without hands.    You built your brand from nothing once, you can do it again,” she finished with a gentle boop on your nose, and then left you to enjoy the drinks and cookies.

   “What she said,” Pero added, before lifting his cup and taking a sip, discovering it to be a delicious coffee/chocolate blend, with Christmas spices mixed in.

   You didn’t try to retort, perhaps because their ganging up on you made you realize that there was no point. But he hoped that it was because you were starting to consider that they were right.    Whatever was going on in your head, you kept it to yourself as you enjoyed the treats, although with a lot less enthusiasm than he would’ve expected.

-----

   The week passed quickly, the highlight of it being your first visit to your OBGYN to check you over.    The baby was still too small at just two months, to be much more than a blob on the ultrasound, but it still made him feel all kinds of woozy.    Still, the primary reason why it was the highlight of the week, was because the extensive testing revealed you to be in perfect health, despite the crap you’d recently been through, and that was a big relief to the both of you.

   And as the holiday weekend arrived, you returned to stay at your father’s house for the promised Christmas dinner, bringing Abby along as well, to complete the family.

   “Has it only been one week? Damn, I’ve missed you guys,” Dean announced with a smile when he came out to meet you as you got out of the car.

   “I’ve missed you too, dad,” you assured him while he buried you against his chest in his biggest hug.

   Then it was Pero’s turn, and he was surprised at how emotional he became when the taller man embraced him. Because it had only been one week, and he hadn’t actively thought about Dean’s absence.    But now that he was around him again, he felt remarkably like a small boy once more, wanting nothing more than for his papa to love him.    The difference this time, compared to his actual childhood, was that this man did love him.

   “Hey, son. How are you doing?” he asked while still holding Pero, and it was quite shocking how hearing that word now was just as powerful as it had been the first time that he’d heard it.

   “Really good,” he croaked, fighting a sudden soreness in his throat, but no one remarked on it.

   Drawing back a few moments later, he reached into his breast pocket and pulled out the grainy photo from the ultrasound, to show your dad, and he was immediately spellbound.    The two men stood close together and wordlessly marvelled at the picture, while you and Abby let Groot out of the car.    It obviously didn’t take both of you to accomplish the task, but Pero was grateful that you allowed him to have these moments with Dean.

   Whether you understood how important they were to him, or not, you did appear to understand how much he valued them, and you seemed only happy to let their bond deepen and grow.    Once the dog had done a lap of the yard and greeted the horses in their pen, you headed for the front door, at which point the men had dried their eyes and followed you inside.    There, you were first bombarded by the small hoard of dogs, clearly happy to have you all back, and then by the gorgeous decorations that your father had apparently put up since you’d left.

   “Wow, dad… I don’t recall ever seeing this much holiday cheer in this house, not even when mom was here,” you observed, and Dean shrugged.

   “It got too quiet and empty after you left, so I went a little overboard trying to keep busy.”

   “It looks great,” Pero complimented. “I have never celebrated Christmas like this before. It looks like something from a book or movie.”

   “How did you celebrate, then?” Abby curiously inquired, and he had to think for a moment.

   “I guess we… didn’t. The closest I got was with the Falcons, and that was usually just going to a bar.”

   You and Abby both scoffed at that, and then spoke in perfect unison.

   “Yeah, that’s not Christmas.”

   Over the course of that afternoon and evening, the entire family took it upon yourselves to show him exactly what you’d meant by that.    You taught him how to make wreaths and paper decorations, how to make the family’s traditional cookies and breads, what games you usually played, which foods and music were your favourites, how to wrap presents, and most importantly, how to decorate a tree.

   And for the first time in his life, Pero understood what people meant when they talked about the magic of Christmas.    Because all you wanted was for him to feel included. To be a part of this joyous celebration that for this family wasn’t about religion or history, but simply family and love. And to that end, you all poured those things into his soul with a selflessness that he had never seen in any human being before meeting you.

   It all took so long, and you had so much fun that you didn’t get to bed until well past midnight, tired and excited for the big day tomorrow, especially when you’d looked out the windows and seen fresh snow falling.    But once the two of you had gotten settled into bed, with Groot on the floor by the door, something that he’d failed to realize all day, suddenly occurred to Pero.

   “Pintora… I’m so sorry,” he said, furrowing his brow as the awareness crept over him.

   “About what?” you sleepily asked, sounding genuinely perplexed that he’d have anything to feel sorry for.

   “I have not gotten you a present. I did not know that I was supposed to,” he explained, feeling terrible that he’d missed out on an opportunity to spoil you.

   But you exhaled into a giddy little laughter at his words, and he felt you relax in his arms.

   “Promise that you’ll make me a rocking chair before the baby’s born, and I won’t hold it against you,” you said, and it was clear from your tone that you hadn’t expected any gifts from him.

   “Have you gotten anything for me?” he asked, hoping that your tone meant that you’d made the assumption that the two of you wouldn’t exchange gifts at all.

   “Just a very little thing, nothing special,” you admitted, and he instantly felt terrible.

   But he knew that you’d only try and convince him that it didn’t matter, if he attempted to apologize again.    So instead, he made a plan.

   He waited until you’d fallen asleep and then he snuck out of bed, signing for Groot to take his spot so that you wouldn’t be awoken by his absence. And the dog performed perfectly, stretching his body out to mimic the length of the human and then positioning himself to follow your contour.    Pero then quietly sneaked through the hall to your father’s room and gently woke him up. Since he’d never tried to give anyone a gift before and he wanted to get this right, he enlisted Dean to make sure that he wouldn’t fuck it up.

   He was back in your room before the sun rose, silently thanking the dog by kissing him on the head before taking back his spot behind you.    He felt certain that you hadn’t noticed his absence at all, and he was tremendously happy with the knowledge that he would be able to surprise you on what was going to be your first big occasion spent together.

   It filled him with joy to think about all the fun holidays that you still had to look forward to together. All the firsts that you’d get to enjoy, both as a couple, and then as parents.    And as you began to wake in the golden morning light, made brighter than usual by the fresh white snow, he felt so enchanted by the prospect of everything that he had to look forward to, that for the first time, he seriously thought about asking you for forever.

===============

Link to Part 17

Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed this, please consider reblogging, I would dearly appreciate it.

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[chrisevansgoodgirl]

killing peggy carter

summary: you want revenge bc steve’s a bitch. (happy times, save for steve’s disappearance. everyone’s alive tho)

warnings: a darker steve. rough smut, a little questionable at times. a lot of angst bc i was in a mood.

pairing: steve rogers x reader, peggy carter x reader for a sec, and some steve x peggy ( 🤢 )

word count: about 9,800

a/n: not tagging anyone bc no one asked for this, i literally just wrote it like forever ago and decided to post it bc i haven’t posted in forever. also, if you go back far enough on my blog, you will see that i watch riverdale and honestly, i came up with this title before jughead wrote his emo story in the finale.

When Steve left, it was nothing short of devastating.

Your world had stopped. How could it not? You had been under the impression that someone was in love with you as much as you were in love with them. And god, you were so damn in love with Steve Rogers.

It had been a year and it still hurt just like it had that first day. You were better at hiding it now, using that as the only entertainment in your life. Being an Avenger wasn’t the same as it used to be. The world was good, you weren’t needed. Especially not while all these feelings of anger and resentment were growing inside you.

When Steve left, he took a lot. He took your heart, your soul, your fucking will to love and let yourself be loved, and he took your ability to be a hero. No hero had the darkness you had. No hero stayed out most nights dancing in sweaty and noisy clubs, being groped by strangers she couldn’t even take home because she was the definition of damaged. You had trust issues for days, and they weren’t going anywhere any time soon, if ever.

Bucky tried to help and sometimes, you had the energy to fake it. It always made him so happy to see you smiling or just talking to other men who clearly were attracted to you. But nothing would come of it. You couldn’t believe a word that any one of them said.

Steve used to look at you, tell you he loved you, tell he needed you, that he couldn’t do any of this without you. Then he had the chance to go back to Peggy Carter and he took it in a second, no hesitation. He didn’t even say goodbye.

You stayed out on the lake for three months, figuring he’d just gotten tied up. He would come back, you told yourself that every night. What finally broke you was when Nat and Bucky sat you down and told you it wasn’t going to happen. You’d always known but with confirmation from the two people that knew him best, you had to face reality. He’d left you and he wasn’t coming back.

It was a huge hit to your self-esteem. Maybe if you had been prettier. Smarter. Stronger. Better. But you were just you. Petty, small, aching. Ironically, that was how he had found you as well. The Avengers liked to bring in team members who had already been through too much. You hadn’t realized how vulnerable your past trauma made you to their type of coercion. You would do anything any of them asked. With Steve, it was different. More. And he had always known.

There was this pain in your chest that never went away. Sometimes you woke up gasping in the middle of the night, usually after a nightmare. It was as if there had been a hand around your neck. But there wasn’t because you were as alone as anyone could possibly be.

You didn’t mind it anymore. Hell, it was the only thing that you still had left of Steve. You burned everything else and not even that made you feel better. This was all much to Bucky’s dismay.

You would never tell a soul that you couldn’t part with his sketchbooks, that you had them hidden in a box underneath your bed. It was no one’s right to know. This pain was your own, the only thing you still had possession of.

You hadn’t been touched in his absence, even by yourself. It reminded you of all those times he would kiss along your skin and sing praises to your beauty. Sometimes, you wished you were ugly. Sometimes, you wished you could just get so ugly that no one would even want to look at you.

But that was not the case. You were that beautiful, strong, and caring woman Steve had fallen in love with, so they claimed. You were their responsibility. Their project. They would get you through this if it was the last thing they did. Nat, Bucky, and Sam tried merely out of their loyalty to Steve. Tony followed that lead and that meant Peter tried as well as he could. Wanda, still consumed by her own lost love, attempted, but she was probably the only person who could see you for what you were.

Thrown out trash. Abandoned, sharp pieces that could and would cut anyone who tried to help. You hated all the rest of them for not seeing it. You hated all the rest of them because in their eyes, you were still Steve’s girl.

You no longer had a boyfriend, a family, or friends. He took all of that away from you. And one day, when you were so sick of having nothing to do but feel sorry for yourself, you decided that you were going to return that favor.

Steve Rogers deserved to be just as heartbroken and empty as you. It drove you crazy. He had been the one to pursue you. He had been the one to insist that you were his, even said you were the best thing to ever happen to him.

Talking Bruce into helping was laughably easy. You claimed to need closure. You claimed you just wanted to know that Steve was happy. You wanted to tell him you forgave him. Bruce hadn’t seen you look this happy in a long while so he did what anyone would and said yes.

You wanted to wait. Steve was always so sentimental, the anniversary of the day he met Peggy was probably a day of extreme affection in their house. He probably made her breakfast, bought her some piece of jewelry that she wouldn’t even like, and spent all day telling her how much he loved her. You wanted to crash the party.

Part of you wished there was another way to do this, but there just wasn’t. Killing Peggy was the only way to take anything from him, and you had these dark fantasies that he would then kill you in retaliation. What a beautiful way to go, you hoped he would strangle you. You hoped he would set you on his lap one final time, wrap his hands around your neck, and stare into your eyes until you were gone.

Peggy was a great person, that much you felt bad about. But hadn’t Steve practically murdered you? And you were a great person before all of this. An eye for an eye. Did he think you were just going to disappear? No, he wasn’t going to get away with this any longer. He wasn’t going to get his happiness after he had ruined your whole life.

You wanted some years on them, you told Bruce ten years. Steve would be just shy of 50. You wondered what he’d look like. When he left, he had just started to get some gray hairs. You could remember that morning vividly. You wouldn’t have noticed if the sun hadn’t been shining in through the blinds perfectly onto his blonde hair. He blushed about 7 shades of red, but you promised him you didn’t mind. Because you loved him. He said he loved you back. Like an idiot, you believed him.

You arrived in his time with little care to how you looked. You weren’t here for anyone but him. You didn’t mind that everyone was staring at you oddly because instead of some huge, ugly dress, you were wearing black pants, a low-cut t-shirt, and a leather jacket.

You did need a weapon, however. Guns were cowardly. Poison could be fun. A knife, though. A knife would certainly get the point across. You tucked it into your boot and then you were on your way.

You found Peggy’s house easily. Bruce had made sure you knew where you were going and what to do if they had moved or anything like that. You’d known they would be in the same place. You’d known Steve would want to live in this domestic, pathetic lie.

There was a window that looked into the living room. It was mid-day, you figured Peggy was at work. What did Steve even do? Was there a specific activity he liked pairing with all the pure nothingness he was doing while his best friend suffered in Hydra’s hands?

You saw him sitting in a recliner in what you assumed was the living room. His hair was almost all gray, he’d cut it much shorter. Like how he used to have it, before everything with Tony and Bucky. Like how he had it when you met him. His beard was just as light and he had a few prominent wrinkles on his forehead and around his mouth. But that was as far as his aging went. His arms were still huge, his shoulders so broad, and you had the strongest feeling that that ass had held up.

You were about to go in, make your presence known when you realized he was reading a book. Your favorite book. He must have taken it with him because that looked distinctly like one of your many copies you hadn’t seen for quite some time.

You were furious, shaking and seeing red. No matter how hard you tried to breathe, you just couldn’t. You were going to cut Peggy’s heart about and show it to him. You were going to cover that ugly house with her blood. You were going to wreck him just as much as he wrecked you.

You watched Steve for three months and came to the harrowing conclusion that he was severely unhappy. Peggy would come home and they wouldn’t speak. They would sit down for dinner and say maybe five sentences to one another. They went to bed together, sometimes they had sex. You never stuck around for that because not only was that a major violation of her privacy, but damn, they were fucking boring.

When she woke up in the morning, he wouldn’t get up until she was gone. Then he would go for his run, you followed a couple of times as best you could to see if there was a piece of this puzzle you were missing. When he returned home, he would read or watch television, he went for a second run a few hours later, and returned home to do absolutely nothing but await her return.

Should this have made you happy? It didn’t. He would rather be unhappy with her than happy with you. But that was for one reason: his pride. He didn’t want to crawl back to you and admit that he made a mistake.

Your goals changed. You wanted to make him admit it. Not with words, he would never do that. But Steve was a faithful man. If you got him to stray, it would be indisputable.

You waited one morning until he was out on his run, then snuck into the house. You went through their kitchen, sometimes you moved things just to be a bitch. You went through their bedroom and discovered that Peggy had a terrible contraption that had the audacity to call itself a sex toy. That would be nice to throw in Steve’s face.

You tossed it onto the bed and got undressed as you made your way to the shower. Steve wouldn’t be gone much longer. And he would know something was very wrong when he saw your clothes.

You washed your hair, used Peggy’s soap, and only had to wait a couple of minutes after that. You heard him call out her name a few times. But then he got to the bedroom and you heard his steps hesitating.

“Peggy?”

He wouldn’t say your name, not ever. Because he could be wrong, he could be delusional. And to admit that he was still thinking about you after all this time, that was his idea of a loss.

You didn’t grab a towel as you pulled the shower curtain back and shut off the water. Dripping wet, you carefully padded across the tile floor and then out to the bedroom.

His eyes widened and he dropped to his knees. “What...what are you doing here?”

You shrugged, glancing around. “Thought I deserved a vacation.”

“Y/N, I am so—”

“Pathetic? Weak? Yeah, don’t worry, I know.” You moved closer to him, eyeing him pitifully. You were glad that you hadn’t crumbled. Months ago, you would have given anything just to hear his voice, just to see his fucking eyes. God, you hated him now.

“You’re angry, I understand.”

“Angry?” you scoffed. “Add dumb to the list.”

“I’m sorry that I hurt you—”

“You didn’t hurt me, you piece of shit. You destroyed me, you ruined my life. For all intents and purposes, you killed me. And I’m here to get my revenge.”

His eyebrows pulled together. “Revenge?”

You reached out to touch his face, trailed your fingers along his bottom lip. “Yeah, payback. I’m going to make sure I make you feel what you made me feel.”

He glared up at you. “Are you threatening me?”

“Yes.”

He finally stood, towering over you.

“Mmm, how I’ve missed this body.” You pressed yourself against him and as much as he acted like he didn’t like it, he never pulled away or tried to push you back. You were getting him wet and his shirt was starting to cling to his abs. You let your hands wander for a moment before they dropped down to his pants.

“Stop,” he said quietly.

And you did because you were never going to allow him to lie. Your turned up to him and stepped back.

He looked torn apart, confused. “Why are you here?”

You shrugged. “Why not?”

“That’s not an answer.”

“Well, it’s all you’re getting. You don’t need any other answer.”

“So, what’s the plan? How are you going to get your revenge?”

“I know you, Steve, I know that you believe in being a good and faithful man. I just want you to fuck me. That’s all.”

“Well, you know that’s not going to happen. You know I would never—”

“Cheat? So, then you’ve never fucked Peggy?”

“What?”

“You never left me, you never told me we were done. You, like the coward you are, just didn’t come back. Every time you’ve been with her is a lie, a cheat. You are a cheater.”

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?! You keep acting like there was just one thing! There were a million things, Steve. You ruined everything that we were building. And you can apologize all you want, but until I return at least half of it, I’m stuck here with you.”

“I won’t fuck you.”

“Yet,” you pointed out. “Well, I should be going.”

He grabbed your arm. “Go home.”

“I am home, baby. You’re here and you’re my home.”

He frowned.

You yanked yourself out of his hold, bending over to grab your clothing all over the room. He wasn’t going to fuck you but that did not mean he wasn’t going to look at you. So, you gave him quite the show, just like you had in the past upon his request.

You disappeared into the bathroom as if it was so natural, as if it was your own. He made no moves to follow and said nothing. As you dried yourself off, you decided now was as good a time as any. “See that terrible thing on your bed?”

You heard him step a few times, then nothing.

You scoffed. “Maybe it has to do with your age.”

“It doesn’t.”

“Still. Pretty creepy you came back to a much younger Peggy.”

“I came back to the one I left.”

“Whatever you need to tell yourself.” You sauntered out and sent him one last smile before exiting the bedroom.

Peggy and Steve had a fight, so Peggy ducked out to some small diner. If you couldn’t get to him, you decided you were going to get to her. Peggy was sweet from the second you began speaking to her, feigning concern for her situation.

The first night you guys went out together, you wanted her to talk shit about Steve. She didn’t, she just got drunk and tried to get you much the same. You were taking her home because you truly were fearful of what would become of her without your help. And she kissed you. At first, you were startled, you pulled away out of fear and shock. She wasn’t Steve. In all your life since you’d met him, you never thought someone else was going to kiss you.

But then she looked terrified. Had she been reading you wrong? Had she messed everything up? Nah, you were adaptable. You kissed her back, explained you’d been hurt by some loser and it had been a while. She understood, or said she did, and then she was disappearing inside.

You were left wondering if Steve heard you, but not many lights in the house were on. He probably wasn’t home. Confirmed by your unlocked hotel door when you returned home just a couple of hours before sunrise.

Knowing it was him didn’t mean you weren’t going to pull your gun as you entered. He was sitting in one of the chairs at the tiny table near the tiny kitchen.

He arched an eyebrow. “That necessary?”

“I should have shot you the second I got here.” But you still tossed it onto the bed. “You know...this paints quite a scene, doesn’t it? You’re here, angry at me for being out late.” You let your purse fall to the floor, then your hideous cardigan. You had only shown up with one outfit, so shopping was necessary to keep up appearances. You didn’t know a lot about the 40s, but you didn’t want them to start burning women at the stake again because of you.

You made your way to him, straddling his lap as you took his face in your hands. “Are you upset that I broke curfew, daddy?”

He didn’t even bat an eye, but you knew that would get to him. “Where were you?”

“Out with your future wife.” One of many kickers, they had yet to get married. Peggy said it was because she wanted to wait. “Thought she would be willing to talk shit about you...thought it would make me feel better.”

“And? Did she give you anything you can use against me in the future?”

“Nah. She didn’t want to talk about you at all.”

He glared. “When are you going home?”

She shrugged. “Whenever I feel like it.” Your eyes moved over his face as you felt the deeply etched lines on his skin. “You don’t look 50 but I never thought... You remember when I found your gray hair?”

“Yeah... Thought you would leave me...that you’d want someone your age.”

“I like you like this, you know. Twice my age.”

“Have there been others?”

And just like that, the end of your friendly conversation. You pulled your hands away from him but stayed on top of him. “Others?”

“People...men you’ve let close.”

You scoffed. “Why would I do that?”

“I wanted...I thought you would move on.”

“People lie,” you pointed out. “You told me you loved me every day and then you just left. I can’t adequately explain to you how tired I am. I can’t do it again, I can’t even let myself try. I can’t get close to people the way I was close to you. I can’t move on. I can’t love someone else. I can’t do anything but hate you as much as I loved you.”

“I wasn’t lying—”

“You left. If you loved me as much as you said you did, you wouldn’t have been able to.”

“I do love you—”

You immediately pulled off him, rushing to get your feet back on the floor. No, no fucking way, he was not going to lie to you again. He was simply not allowed to anymore. You would not tolerate it.

“Y/N—”

“Get out of my hotel!” You pointed to the door. “Now, Steve, or I swear I will shoot you.”

He scoffed. “For what? Loving you?”

“You piece of shit.” You didn’t wait for him to say anything else. You stormed to the bathroom and locked the door before he could intrude yet again.

He knew you wouldn’t come back out, not while he was still there. All he could do was leave. For safe measure, he at least unloaded your gun and set it on the bedside table. Maybe if you had to find it and load again, you would lose some of your anger and not ended up taking a shot at him.

How dare he? He had no right to say that to you, no right to use that word. It meant nothing coming from him because there was the implied ‘but’ along with it. Before, he just loved you. Period. Now? He loved you. But what? He loved Peggy more? He loved this time more?

You thought you had been angry before. Even though the time you were spending with Peggy was diffusing that somewhat. Still, you never lost sight of what you wanted. Needed. The idea of Steve’s heartbreak was the only thing that could get you up in the morning.

He threw you off for a few days. Every time you tried to leave the hotel room just to do something a tad evil, you would end up in bed crying. Steve thankfully didn’t try to come back, you hated the thought of him seeing you like this, letting him know that he could still do this to you.

Peggy called. You gave her the number, just in case, and she used it to express her concern for you. It wasn’t like you not to want to hang out or to just be around and bump into her “randomly”. She invited you out for breakfast the first day, then lunch the next. You said you weren’t feeling well.

An excuse she stopped taking the third night. She wanted to go dancing with you, all while her asshole boyfriend stayed at home. How could you say no? You shouldn’t, this was the entire reason you were here.

You would kill her tonight. This time was a drag and you wanted to get home. To a place where you could wear pants or a t-shirt. A place where there weren’t so many preppy men in pastels or college sweaters.

Peggy picked you up, she wouldn’t stop staring. Had it been any other day, you might have even questioned why. But you weren’t going to enjoy this as much as you thought you would. It sucked, and honestly, it made you hate Steve even more. He was your downfall, he was also her downfall, but at least he would soon be utterly alone.

It had been hours. You were just trying to dance and let the music fill your mind, but this music was shit. If you had to hear one more man sing about wanting to hold a woman’s hand… Truly, you missed the filth of your time.

Peggy was the one that wanted to leave. Peggy was the one that wanted to walk away from all the noise of the city. Peggy was the one that took you to some sleazy motel, where she gave you the briefest of looks when she’d stopped you both on the sidewalk. She was also the one that kissed you when you didn’t say anything because what did you have to actually say?

Nothing. Not one thing. You had no idea how this plan had spiraled so terribly. You were meant to come here, kill her, throw it in Steve’s face, then bolt back home like none of it ever happened.

But you couldn’t kill her, not anymore, not after seeing what a miserable life she had with Steve. You hoped she would leave him, and not just to hurt him, but to help herself. You remembered the life she had in your world, the one she had created with your husband. It was so much better than the hell she was living in here.

So, you let her take you to a room. You let her kiss you, you let her tear your dress off, push you onto the bed, and crawl on top of you. Her lips moved everywhere over your legs, arms, and stomach, and they felt like fire because they belonged to someone who wasn’t Steve.

You hated how guilty you felt. You hated that your mind was seriously considering this a betrayal, cheating. But you were trying to be kinder to yourself. It wasn’t your fault that you had fallen so hard for someone and that you had made plans because someone had promised you forever.

She knew you were thinking about him. Not Steve, of course, but the someone you had once mentioned. She didn’t mind, she just promised she would try to make you forget. You forced yourself to be present, you turned off your mind when you could. She didn’t ask a lot of you, in reality.

She wanted to be on top, she wanted you to say her name and wouldn’t let you come until you asked nicely. It was probably around the third orgasm that you stopped feeling so awful, that all of those familiar sensations weren’t triggering memories and bitter resentment. That was what she gave you with her mouth alone and didn’t move until it was evident that your thoughts had simply melted away.

When she crawled back up to kiss you, she buried her fingers inside you. At that point, who the hell even was Steve Rogers? A distant, dull pain. Peggy was here, on top of you, biting your lip, telling you to come one more time, because she knew you had it in you.

She told you that you were beautiful, that she’d never seen a body like yours. She told you that you made her feel things Steve couldn’t, that you were fun and warm and kind, and she loved spending time with you.

You were covered in sweat, your skin painted with her lipstick and bites and other marks she left all over your skin. She hadn’t come yet and refused any offers you made her, she claimed she just wanted to focus on you for a moment.

When she finally pressed her soaking center against yours, you were in an odd amount of pain. You longed for something, so much, but you had no idea what. She pulled your hair, began kissing your neck, and rolled her hips hard. You pulled her hair back, pressed your hips up when she pressed down, whimpered her name, and told her she felt so good. It was when she started fucking you harder and faster, and you were getting really close once again, that you got the sick idea to rake your nails down her back. Hard enough to leave marks.

After her finish, she collapsed onto her side next to you. The way she looked at you was kind of scary, like you were worth a lot more than you knew you were. She also looked satisfied and you hadn’t seen that look since you’d shown up. And what a fucking crime that was. Yes, Steve was a dick, but fuck, that man could seriously fuck. Why was he denying her that?

You shoved her onto her back and sat on her face because you didn’t want to be thinking about him. She kept you there until you were shaking and so fuzzy you couldn’t even sit up on your own. A tad haphazardly, you insisted on getting your mouth on her. After some convincing on your part and a few pitying laughs from her as you nearly fell over the edge of the mattress because you were still dizzy, your tongue was sliding against her skin and her hands were locked in your hair.

She needed to get home, back to her boyfriend before he started to worry. You stuck around for a bit, reluctant to return to your apartment. Maybe this was it, maybe this was all you needed. Maybe it was just time to fucking go home.

You truly worried about all of the Bucky lectures you were going to get, all of those Natasha looks, those small ‘tsk’ sounds when Thor was not only upset but disappointed in you, the judgmental eyebrows Tony would be sending your way, and those puppy dog eyes from Peter. Goodness, you were sure Peter missed you. Bruce would never trust you again, no surprise there, you had lied to him. You hadn’t thought about the consequences of your actions when you first did this. You hated, at the time, that you didn’t care if you hurt anyone.

Game over. You weren’t going home not without having scored some points, but to win, you would just end up losing more. More, you now understood that you had taken all of it for granted. Yes, your friends were constant reminders of Steve and they had been acting like you were some mission they needed to complete, but at least they loved you. That was more than a lot of people had and you would let them know about all these epiphanies if they didn’t kill you as soon as you returned.

When you made it back to your apartment, it was only to get the necklace Wanda had given you a few years back for your birthday. It was this huge stone you never remembered the name of, something you rarely took off regardless of that.

The last thing you expected was to find Steve. He looked furious and maybe, just maybe, you were going to get the satisfaction of seeing that you hurt him before you left. “What the hell are you doing here?”

He was at the table again, jaw set, glaring at the wall straight ahead of him. You were trying to think if you’d ever seen him this angry, if you’d ever even heard stories of it. Probably not. He liked to act like you were so damn delicate. Though, maybe he had been onto something.

“Hey,” you snapped after receiving no response, “Why the fuck are you in my hotel room?”

Finally, he turned to you and for the first time ever, you were scared of him.

You kept your distance, you even began moving toward your bedside table where you had your gun stashed.

“I hope you’re not looking for this.” He reached down for a moment then tossed it onto the table noisily.

Shit. “Steve…”

“You fucked her.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He stood quickly, storming over to you. For a moment, you had been stunned, and it was enough for him to get several upper hands. It wasn’t as if he needed them to begin with, but with your delayed scattering back, he was able to grab you and pin you to the wall. You were completely defenseless in stupid, impractical heels and an ugly, impractical dress.

“Tell me you didn’t fuck her.”

You said nothing.

He scoffed harshly. “I fucking smelled you all over her…and now I smell her on you. You left those scratches on her back because you wanted me to know.”

“Honestly, I thought I would be gone by the time you found out or by the time you decided to confront me. In fact, if you leave now, I’ll be gone and you’ll never have to see me again.”

He narrowed his eyes.

“What? Isn’t that what you wanted?”

He didn’t say anything, instead, he grabbed the neckline of your dress and tore it open. He paid no mind to your startled shoving at his chest. His eyes moved over your skin quickly, you could tell he was getting angrier with every bruise he found.

You were going to play this off, bat away at his feelings just long enough for you to escape. “Steve, I—”

He grabbed your jaw and you immediately shut up. “Go take a shower.”

Your eyebrows pulled together.

“Now.”

“No, you fucking—”

“You can do it on your own or I can do it for you. But to be clear, I will not ask again, and I’m gonna count to ten before I really lose my patience. One, two, three—”

“Steve,” you tried softly. He was still holding you there, so tight that the idea of moving was laughable.

“Four, five—”

“Steve,” you were a tad more frantic, pushing at his forearm.

“Six, seven.” He finally pulled away from you and you bolted to the bathroom without a second thought. He told you to leave the door open and you listened because you no longer had the desire to push him.

You came out in a towel several minutes later. Most of your shower was spent just trying to calm down, the rest was using any product you had to try to get rid of her scent. You didn’t want to risk further angering him with any lingering mentions of Peggy.

He was just feet away from the door when you stepped out and once again, he showed no hesitation in ripping away what covered your body. He looked you over again, briefer this time, obviously displeased with what he saw. He’d hoped most of it was just the lipstick Peggy always wore.

“Are you wet?”

“What?”

“Your pussy. Are you wet?” He was condescendingly slow with every single word and your hand suddenly itched with the need to smack him.

“No.”

“Well, you’re a liar, so I don’t believe you,” he countered. “Check.”

“What?”

“Check,” he repeated. “Now. And if I have to keep repeating myself, you’re not going to like the way this night plays out.”

You averted your gaze as you brought your hand to your center. Your breath caught audibly as you ran your fingers through. Yes, he was an ass, but your body would never stop craving his touch.

“Show me.”

Begrudgingly, you brought your hand back to him.

“Wow, how did I know you were lying? Touch yourself. Keep touching yourself until you come.”

You snorted. “Eww, no—”

He slammed his hand against the wall behind you and you fell silent again. “The same rules apply. Do it or I will do it for you.”

He had never spoken to you like this. Sure, there were the bad missions. There were the times when he just needed to fuck you to forget all the shit he had to deal with. But there was never a moment where you wondered if he would lose control, if he would hurt you unintentionally. Right now, maybe it wasn’t so much that you thought he would. You had known him long enough, loved him long enough, that you knew exactly what kind of man he was. Maybe, right now, it was that you wanted him to hurt you.

Nothing could be worse than when he left you. Nothing he did was going to hurt more than when you went back home and you were, once more, without him. Meaning that you wanted to take everything that you possibly could from this moment. All the pain, all the bruises, all those emotional scars that would add to the ones from before that you had idiotically convinced yourself you could ever get rid of.

He knew you were considering your next move and arched an eyebrow at your continuing silence.

You shook your head. “No.”

One of his hands shot up to wrap around your neck, the other hand went to your cunt where he slid two fingers into you with embarrassing ease.

You brought your hands up to his forearm and dug your nails into his skin. The harder you scratched him, the harder he would choke you—it was something established early on in your relationship. And if he was choking you, you couldn’t moan or whine like he wanted you to.

For a moment, you both stayed still. For an entire second, it wasn’t that he had left you, that you had to track him down, that you fucked his girlfriend and he was fucking furious about it. For a second, it was just you and him, like it was all the times before.

The problem was pride. It wasn’t like before and neither one of you wanted to let the other pretend. He hurt you. You hurt him. Before no longer mattered. So, you shut your eyes and turned your face away from him.

He thrust his fingers just slightly harder than you would have liked, slightly harder than he would have liked. It would sting in the morning, but you wouldn’t hate it. Crescent-shaped cuts would be found everywhere on his skin and he would mourn that they were healing too fast. Both of you knew that this was it. The end.

You were wet, that obscene sound drowning out your choked noises. He absolutely loved this, loved you. He had thought being with Peggy again would make him feel like he was finally home. It took him so long to figure out that he was wrong, to realize that you were one of the few people that actually felt like home. You and Bucky, Nat, Sam, Tony, Wanda, Thor. Not Peggy.

And he could no longer pretend when he felt you tighten around his fingers. He was fucked up and he ruined things a lot of the time. It was just in his DNA, even the fucking serum couldn’t fix that. But prior to leaving, he’d never ruined anything with you. He hadn’t realized how much he missed fucking you because he always did that right.

“Open your eyes,” he ordered.

Instead, you pushed harder at his arm and turned further away from him. Your hips started to buck against his hand, and he knew you wanted this, but he knew you were not going to give in without some fight.

“Open your fucking eyes, Y/N.”

You were not going to. After all the hell he’d put you through? Fuck that, fuck him. You were never going to give him anything he wanted ever again.

He yanked his hand away from your pussy and grabbed your jaw to turn your face to him. He knew that wouldn’t work alone and in a move of desperation, kissed you. A move to get you to let your guard down—a weak move that would not work. As his knee came up to your cunt and you began grinding against it, he started biting your lip.

You buried one hand in his hair and started pulling harder than you should have. He released your jaw to do the same to you. This was much different than how he usually touched you. He’d always been rough, but this hurt, actually hurt.

You rode his thigh with no assistance from him. He let your face go and dropped your hair in search of another tactic. You were no longer kissing, you instead rested your head on his shoulder, eyes still squeezed shut. Even when he grabbed your ass painfully, and when he smacked you after all you did was scream. Even when he grabbed your breasts and pulled on your nipples.

You kept your eyes shut the entire time and he was growing furious. He wasn’t going to let you feel anything even resembling pleasure if you weren’t going to give into him. He pulled away and grabbed your hips.

You opened your eyes then, concerned about what he was doing to you next. He grabbed your shoulder and shoved you onto the bed before you could say a word. You were on your stomach, facing away from him, busy lamenting the loss of your finish. You heard him undressing as you attempted to regain your breath and composure.

He was on top of you before that happened, yanking your legs open before he crawled up, hands stopping on either side of your head. He wasn’t going to tease, he was going to fuck you like the brat you were—hard, mean, unforgiving. He lowered his hips until his cock was lined up with your entrance and then thrust in.

Your scream must have scared the hell out of the neighbors. You wouldn’t be surprised if the cops were being called right then. It wasn’t a pleasurable scream, you certainly liked that he was inside you, but that was just your body. Your heart ached in a way that it never had. You’d thought you were never going to feel him again, but it wasn’t some beautiful feeling of reconnection. You were at square one, you would have to crave his body all over again once this was over. You would go through those same agonizing withdrawals that had truly destroyed you those first few months.

Steve grabbed your hair again and shoved your face into the mattress. He didn’t care about taking it slow, making sure that you, his precious, sweet girlfriend, were okay. He felt just as torn up as you and he couldn’t afford emotional consideration when he was so fucked up. He only knew what he wanted, for you to look at him like you used to. He would do whatever he had to do to get it. Part of him didn’t care how low he would have to go. He wasn’t Captain America here, he didn’t have to live up to the same standards.

You blindly reached back to try to catch his arm, but your attempts never even touched him. He didn’t seem to care about what you were attempting, he just fucked you. He held you down as his hips slammed against your ass and he moaned loudly, shamelessly, selfishly. You finally caught a hold of his arm and used the heel of your palm to push, but since you were out of breath and had been for quite some time, you doubted that there was any real force behind it.

“Can’t breathe, baby?” he wondered, hips still snapping, the head of his cock reaching that delicious spot inside you.

You dug your nails into his skin even though it was an uncomfortable stretch and your muscles were screaming. You were screaming, too, despite everything, despite the lack of strategy in that, but this felt too good not to. You hadn’t been fucked like this in so long, this was what you knew you would never get from someone else. This deep, soul-level connection was a one-time deal. No one else was ever going to be able to give you this.

“If I let you up, you better fucking look at me. I’m not kidding, Y/N. I’ll fucking hold you down again until I fucking come.”

Once his hand lifted from your head, you turned up and gasped for air. It was a short-lived relief as soon as his hand pressed into your neck and angled your head back. It wasn’t that you were scared, and you should have been because you wholeheartedly believed his threat, it was that you were happy to have an excuse to give in. He was stronger than you, right? No one could blame you for giving in, hell, you were just trying to save yourself. Right?

Your eyes met his and his hips stuttered. A ragged breath fell from his lips, you felt it on your hair. That hard look in his eyes softened, he looked a lot like that man that had promised you he would come back to you.

“I love you,” he breathed.

Your eyes instantly filled with tears and you clamped your mouth shut. Both hands were buried in the bedsheets because you needed something to hold, something to tear at, something to destroy to cope with the burning anger that was consuming you.

“I’m sorry, I love you.” His body moved erratically against yours, desperate for all the things he’d longed for since he’d left you. The two of you were sick together, desperate, twisted people that proved it in bed. Peggy wasn’t like that and he was drowning trying to act like he was normal, like he was that same man that she had been with what felt like centuries ago.

He collapsed, chin pressing into the bend of your neck, and you felt his cum spilling into you. His arms wrapped around you, holding you tight as he rode out his finish. He didn’t stop, however, now he wanted to get you off. He wanted to feel those same pathetic, proud things he experienced whenever he played your body like an instrument.

You didn’t resist, what would be the point? You fucking deserved an orgasm, at the very least. You were ashamed to admit that you wanted it, needed it. You hadn’t honestly felt alive since he left you, but this reminded you what that was like.

He groaned when he felt you tightening around him, his hand wedging between you and the mattress to get to your clit. When he did, it was over and you crashed like a wave against the shore, and you saw stars, and you felt all those things you felt when you were happily in love with a man you thought loved you back.

So, in conclusion, you felt lies.

If he thought he could fuck reality out of your mind, he was sadly mistaken. You were coming down when your hand started sliding across the mattress. Your gun was not the only precaution you took—you’d known Natasha for years and she would strangle you if that was your only form of protection.

He was kissing down your spine when you located your knife, and he had just started to speak when you turned back and just stabbed. You had a general awareness of where he was, you knew you weren’t going to kill him, and you didn’t want to. You just needed to get away, before he started talking, apologizing, making more promises.

You didn’t wait to see where you stabbed, you simply clawed away from him until you could jump from the bed. He cried out and you heard him grabbing for you, but you couldn’t stop for anything. On your bedstand was the necklace you had shown up for, you grabbed it, along with your long coat and then you were on your way out the door.

Running around completely naked in the 40s, clutching a trench coat you knew you weren’t going to leave without, shoeless, dripping sweat and cum—you’d never thought your beautiful life with Steve Rogers would take you here.

A Bucky Barnes lecture was the last thing you wanted, but it was the only thing you would be receiving for probably several months. Well, when he was done with his silent treatment. He was furious when you returned, he didn’t say a word to you. Everyone else had completely fawned over you. They hugged you, pet your hair, told you how proud they were that you came home.

Bucky just stared at you and when they all parted so he could speak to you, he simply stormed out of Bruce’s lab. But yes, Bruce was a tad betrayed, your expectation on that had been correct. You apologized profusely and brought him coffee every day, several times a day until he stopped looking at you like a kicked baby animal.

Tony was disappointed, but not to Bucky’s extent. He simply could not fathom the hold Steve had on you still, told you as much. You admitted that you were wrong, and well, with Tony, that was really all he needed. He wanted to be right and he wanted you to tell him that you learned your lesson. To the untrained eye, he would look like a narcissist. But you knew him better, you knew he was just scared of losing you. Again. He merely wanted to know that you were sticking around and that was what you conveyed when you told him you had made a mistake going in the first place. He dropped it, like it never happened.

Natasha didn’t let you out of her sight for almost two complete weeks. She watched you and you felt her watching you, but she wasn’t going to pry. She was angry, but she was still handling you with gloves on. She wasn’t going to push you emotionally no matter how badly she wanted to. She also wasn’t going to ask questions, scared that prying would move you further away. You told her you saw Steve and that you got what you needed, she nodded, and that was the end of it. She still watched you, but she was slyer about it. She made sure you were in your room when she woke up and went to bed, but she took up Tony’s pretending routine as well.

Wanda didn’t need to ask anything; she knew because she read your thoughts. She knew because she had been outraged that you left without a goodbye, so she felt entitled to those thoughts. Not because she needed to know what happened but because she needed to know if you were going to try anything else again. She stopped being mad at you one day when you were making Bruce coffee. You hadn’t heard her, you were there in the kitchen, stuck in your own thoughts. She hugged you tight, didn’t say a word, but just like that, it was over.

Almost everyone had gotten over it in record time. You knew you were an asshole and you apologized, and you meant it, but even if you hadn’t, it wasn’t like they were ever going to hold it against you. Sometimes, knowing that, it made you feel worse because these people loved you and just like Steve had done to you, you hurt them. In the exact same way. You left.

Sam was in a much more difficult position. He felt a duty to you as one of Steve’s closest friends, but he also felt for Bucky. You’d really hurt Bucky and Sam could forgive you for being reckless, psychotic almost, even selfish. But the look on Bucky’s face when they discovered that you were gone was a hard thing to shake.

He stopped ignoring you after a couple of days, but the conversations were short, shallow. He didn’t ask about your time there and he didn’t ask about your feelings after. It was all small talk and polite conversation, it seemed like you barely knew each other at all. But sometimes, you would catch him watching you, like he was looking for signs of something that he couldn’t ask you. He wanted to know if you were still torn up by this Steve thing.

You were. You cried a lot, as if it happened all over again. Technically, in a way, it did. But you didn’t show them that, it was no longer their burden to bear. You had caused them pain when they tried to take yours away. You waited until you were alone or out of the tower, you cried quietly and quickly. You did not allow yourself those days where you would just hole up in your room. You were always awake early, asleep late, and you took care of yourself because you owed them all at least that.

You knew when Bucky was less angry, but you weren’t going to approach him. You were totally fine just waiting for him to let you know when he wanted to speak to you, which was one random morning after you’d finished sparring with Nat.

He was waiting outside the gym, muttered that he wanted to speak to you, and even Natasha had the good sense to get lost. It wasn’t going to be pretty, that much was clear. It was in his tone, his eyes, his tense posture.

He took you back to your room and ordered you to sit on the foot of your bed. He paced for a long time and you didn’t say a word or make a sound. When he finally looked at you, you seriously worried he might kill you. He was angry all over again, had worked himself up with his thoughts but you weren’t sure why entirely.

“Did you see him?”

You nodded.

“You talked to him.”

“About…everything? Um, no, not really.” There hadn’t been that conversation. Any attempts on Steve’s part were expertly diverted by you, with all your ill intentions and knowledge of how to get under Steve’s skin.

He nodded curtly. “So, this was for nothing then? You put me through all of this shit for nothing?”

“Bucky, I’m really so—”

He was storming out of the room before you finished your sentence.

You didn’t see him for two days, and when you did, it was clear again, you would be getting more silence. You told yourself you couldn’t be that hurt. You’d hurt him first, that meant he had the right to express his feelings even if that resulted in him not speaking to you.

Several days later, Bucky dropped his Winter Solider persona and became a worried, bitter mother hen. You were sick, it wasn’t something that you thought was a big deal. He’d come to speak to you again and with his enhanced hearing, heard you puking in the bathroom.

When you were done, he forced you back into bed and got Bruce. Bruce did the usual, it wasn’t as if anyone was worried, he was just too scared not to indulge Bucky. Speaking of, he was off in the corner of the room, claiming that you’d probably gotten some kind of time-traveling bug. He was being dramatic, and you became aware of what exactly had drawn him and Steve together all those years ago. Extra bitches.

“I’m sure she’s fine,” Bruce assured. “Her temperature is fine.”

“Take her blood, test it for time-traveling bugs.”

You rolled your eyes, and because Bruce had heard of the Winter Soldier, he did as was directed. Even though you were pretty sure that Bucky wasn’t serious. Not completely. Once Bruce had the excuse of focusing on your blood, that left you and Bucky alone.

“Why did you even go?”

This was not going to go over well. “Um…I had a plan…”

“A plan,” he repeated. “To do what?”

“I was sort of…kind of, just a little bit, going to kill Peggy.”

His mouth dropped.

You rolled your eyes. “I know that was stupid—”

“You’re insane!”

You glared. “Bucky.”

“You didn’t do it, right?!”

“No,” you huffed. “I should have, would have been putting her out of her misery. He’s such a fucking tool.”

He dragged his hand down his face, holding his jaw as he leaned over in his chair and pressed his elbows to the tops of his thighs. He was silent for a very long time before saying, “Yeah…he is. Did he hurt you?”

The bruises had been painfully obvious, there was no way to hide them, and you knew they could all guess what they came from. You felt your skin getting hot as you shook your head. “No. He wouldn’t do that, Bucky.”

He scoffed. “I thought that…but he did leave you and I never thought he could do that.”

“He’s…not different,” you claimed. “Just…”

“A fucking tool.” He nodded. “I know.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

“No, I’m really sorry, Bucky. I’m not just sorry for leaving and upsetting you. I’m sorry for everything, I’m sorry that you wasted months trying to make me feel better and then I just left. I’m sorry that I took you guys for granted, I’m sorry that I didn’t know how fortunate I was to have people who love me as much as you guys do. I know I betrayed your trust so it’s not going to mean much, but I will never do anything like that again.”

His eyes flit up from the floor to your face. “I do love you. So fucking much. You’re my only connection to him. And you left and I didn’t have that, I didn’t have you and I didn’t have him, and I was just…lost.”

You felt those familiar pricks in the back of your eyes, but you told yourself not to cry, you didn’t have the right. But just as soon as his eyes filled with tears, you couldn’t hold back your own anymore. He practically flung himself off the chair to rush to you, arms wrapping tightly around your shoulders.

You weren’t sure how long you both stayed there, just clinging to each other. This felt like the end of all the tension, though. This felt like a fresh start and you and Bucky were just going to have to move on without Steve. You pondered that for a while. You would have to try to find him a girlfriend or a boyfriend so he wouldn’t try to find you someone. It was going to be a little give and take, probably a major power-struggle every now and then, but it was going to be good.

The only reason you two pulled away was because both a frantic Bruce and Natasha ran into the room. They’d made all the noise two people could possibly make as they did so, crashing into each other because the doorway wasn’t big enough for the both of them.

They were wide-eyed, out of breath, both looking like they had just seen a ghost. But a much different ghost since they both regarded one another with a look of confusion.

“What is it?” Bucky demanded. “Wait, she doesn’t really have a time-traveling bug, does she?”

“Oh!” Bruce scoffed awkwardly, “I’d say so!”

You narrowed your eyes. “What the hell does that mean?”

“That can wait!” Natasha declared.

“No, it certainly cannot!” Bruce insisted.

These were two people who were normally soft-spoken, not because they were meek or soft in any general sense—hello, Black Widow and the Hulk—but in that they didn’t like drawing so much attention to themselves.

As they both started hissing arguments back at each other, Bucky sighed.

You glanced at him and he shrugged at you in response. Things were all better one second, but the very next, the world was ending.

Both Bruce and Natasha turned back to you with resolute looks on their faces. Natasha only spoke loudly this time because she was hoping to yell over Bruce, “Steve is back!” And Bruce yelled in a completely indelicate manner because he was shocked, horrified, extremely concerned, “You’re pregnant!”

Oh, shit.

Natasha and Bruce took a second to process what the other said and then gasped, turning to one another to share a look. They faced you again and decided to repeat the news only, Bruce screamed about Steve being back and Natasha more so framed it as a shrieking question you’re pregnant?!

You glanced at Bucky.

His jaw was set, his eyes narrowed just slightly. He merely nodded once then stood, throwing his hands up in the air. “Well, I’m gonna fucking kill him.”

Yep, the world was most certainly ending.

[roger-that-cap]

cardigan

natasha romanoff x f!reader

word count: 8.9k (haha)

warnings: swearing, cheating!natasha, sad!reader, uhm this is angsty for me, asshole!natasha, sort of asshole!team, more angst, sort of happy ending sort of, secrets™️

this is inspired by taylor swift’s cardigan. folklore and evermore are really getting me through this i swear

obviously i do not own this song, picture, or any of the warped lyrics that i attempted to slide in as creatively possible :) this is also my first one shot and my first reader insert ever- i tried to not go into any physical details about miss y/n but i hope y’all like it!

No editor. All mistakes are 100% mine!

You couldn’t have been any more excited to see Natasha. She had been gone for what felt like forever on a mission with Steve, Bucky, and some agent that was on her first big mission, a girl that you recalled to be named Abigail. Regardless of what her name was, they were all heading home today after so long, nearly two months.

There was no telling how much you were ready for the return of your fiancée. The two of you had promised to get married nine months ago, and you were already deep into planning. You were going to your dress appointment at Kleinfeld’s (your literal childhood wish) in two days. You had the venue picked, the table accessories done, the seating chart already filled out and sitting pretty in laminated sheets in a binder. The day was going to be perfect, and it was what you and Natasha deserved after so long. Especially Natasha, after every single thing that she had been through just to save the world and to help those who weren’t able to help themselves.

Natasha was your angel.

Your heart was racing in your chest as you waited for the quinjet to land, the ring feeling light on your left finger as you rolled back and forth on your feet. You couldn’t hold back a toothy grin as you waited for them to fly back in, and to hug Natasha again. That was the most important part. To have her back in your arms so that you could do things like stay in together for the weekend and stay holed up in their room just doing innocent things, like counting each other’s heartbeats.

You stood with your hands clasped in front of your body as they landed, a dopey grin on your face and the same nervous glint in your eye that was there every time that you waited for your fiancée to come back home. You knew that Natasha would always find her way back to you, but there was no telling what condition she would be in.

The moment the doors opened, Abigail ran through them, and down the ramps nearly knocking you over. You reached your arms out to steady the other girl, who looked like she was about to burst into tears at any second. As much as you wanted to just hug Natasha and go home after you ate and sleep in bed with her, you couldn’t leave a girl in tears like that without checking on her. “Woah, are you okay, sweetie?”

The girl’s bottom lip jutted out, like she was about to cry just because of you asking the question. She didn’t say anything, but she was obviously falling apart from the inside, and it made you more than mildly concerned. You didn’t like to see anyone cry, let alone a girl who had just come back from her first big mission. “I’m fine.” Her voice cracked.

“Are you sure?” You were no medic or super soldier or even assassin-spy, but you were nothing if not rational and sympathetic. You were so in tune to the poor girl that you didn’t feel the palpable awkwardness of everyone else who walked off of the quinjet, almost all of them cringing. “Do you need to talk to someone?”

“I- I’m sorry,” Abigail said, and she was running away from you faster than you had ever seen anyone run before.

You frowned as you watched her run. “I hope she’s alright, poor thing. I can’t imagine how a first mission feels,” you murmured, turning around and seeing the slightly spooked eyes of the rest of the team. You smiled at them cautiously and walked over to Natasha, arms already raised as you went to embrace her tightly. You breathed in and put your face in her neck, nearly crying tears of joy as you smelled her shampoo, a rich scent that meant the safety and comfort of them both. “I’m so glad you’re alright.”

You were so happy to hold your fiancée again that you almost didn’t notice how standoffish she was being, and her lack of enthusiasm. She had never been not enthusiastic to see you, especially after going so long without seeing each other. After too long of her not reacting to your warm embrace by kissing your hair or murmuring her usual missed you, princessa, you pulled away and looked at her, a questioning look on your face. “Are you okay, my love?”

Natasha stepped back, not looking you in the eyes and choosing to just smooth out the sleeves of her combat attire, eyes on the floor. That was very unlike her. Something must have gone terribly wrong. “I just want to get home.”

Your vibe visibly deteriorated. It was obvious that Natasha had just popped your bubble and left it as an empty shell, but you were still smiling anyway. Like you always did. “Okay, Nat. We can do that.” You reached out for Natasha’s hand and grabbed it after waving goodbye to the other team members, who all looked either extremely displeased or like they had been caught doing something very awkward.

You walked back to your part of the tower together in silence that wasn’t characteristic of the two of you. You were a known chatterbox, happy and always starting meaningful conversations, but also one of the best listeners to ever grace the earth. Natasha liked to listen, too, and she had the best words and the best voice to listen to. One of them was always talking. The silence between them was almost haunting.

Natasha went straight into the shower. She didn’t offer for you to go in with her, which was what the two of you always did after a mission. You got to see Natasha at her most vulnerable, and Natasha was finally allowed to let down the shroud of strength that only lasted for so long without being damaging. It was the thing that kept you close and often the action that got Natasha to open up about what happened and how she truly felt. Natasha skipping out on that time hurt you and made you expect the worst. 

She turned the lights off the minute that she was out of the shower, not speaking to you or even offering any physical assurance, which was something that Natasha knew that you needed after she came home.

You just prayed that she would be ready to talk in the morning.

§§§

Natasha wasn’t there when you woke up. You frowned and patted the empty spot in the bed beside you even though you knew that she was probably at the gym or running around doing errands. You sighed and crawled out of bed, doing the daily routine that you usually did with Natasha, and leaving the room to go make some breakfast.

There were whispers that hissed like snakes when you came around the corner, and they came to a screeching halt when you bounced into the room. You grinned at everyone sitting or standing in the kitchen, ignoring their deer-in-headlights looks and searching for the woman you were set to get married to. You frowned a bit when there was no sign of her.

“Good morning!” You hummed out anyways, going towards the pantry once you saw that no one had made food yet. Because you were staying there and you had no other skills, you had been the one to take up personal chef for the entire team just to pull some weight, even though they insisted that you didn’t need to do a thing. As long as you “kept Nat happy”, they said. 

It took a second for any of them to respond. “Good morning,” Steve said, his voice oddly clinical for the way he usual greeted you. He was the morning person of the bunch, and probably your closest friend other than Wanda. 

You took the supplies out of the pantry with a thoughtful look on your face. “I’m not trying to pry,” you started softly, back still towards them as you started with the pancake mix. “But, was the mission bad?” No one spoke for a few heavy moments. 

“We succeeded,” Bucky finally stated vaguely, his voice floating through the room.

You never the type to spill all of your personal business to people, but these people weren’t just anyone. These were your closest friends, the people who were going to be in the wedding, either in one bridal party or the other’s. “Nat’s not talking to me,” you sighed out, and turned around to see all of them stiff as boards. “Was it hard for her?”

No one said anything.

You pursed your lips and turned your back to them again, looking away from them to gathered your thoughts for a second. You took in a deep breath and told yourself not to pry, not to think about what Natasha would surely tell you when she was ready. You turned your head and gave them your trademark grin. “Who wants blueberries in their pancakes?”

§§§

You sat in your shared room after a full day of Natasha blatantly ignoring and avoiding you. You were patient, because that was what you had to be to date an Avenger, but Natasha had never straight up ignored you before. You learned very quickly that it called for a different type of patience than the one you were used to.

   In the kitchen when she was forced to be present after you cooked a huge welcome home meal, she didn’t hug on you or kiss your cheek or even look you in the eyes. It wasn’t like her. You came to the tough conclusion that it wasn’t because of the mission, because she had never done that before, not even after the one where the children were caught in the crossfire. You were always the one that she talked to, no matter what.

The lamp light was the only light on in the room, because you knew that Natasha liked it better that way. Maybe less light would make her open up a bit, and the two of you would finally see eye to eye after the annoying stalemate that felt eternal.

You didn’t know how long Natasha would take come back and speak, but you knew that it wouldn’t be too long. Natasha liked to talk, and she had said multiple times that she liked to talk to you the most. It would be any time, right? That’s what you thought until the hours crept by, and you saw and heard no sign of anything. Not even the ding of an elevator or the shutting of a door, or her soft footsteps that she made on purpose because her natural steps were so quiet that she scared you when she appeared. 

When Natasha finally came in, it was late in the night, morning time. Three in the morning, to be exact. You shook off your nerves and smiled at her, and the smile wasn’t returned as much as it should have been. “Hi,” you said, almost a little star struck by finally seeing her. It brought you back to the time you didn’t truly know her. 

You had always admired Natasha. Not even because of her being Black Widow, but because she was Natasha Romanoff, an enemy spy and assassin turned good. And it brought you pure joy knowing that you would soon be taking on her last name, which you secretly thought of as your greatest achievement. Natasha was the one you wanted with for life, and you were steps closer. 

You waited to hear Natasha’s voice. You waited in anticipation for her to run to you and start to spill immediately. You were waiting to wipe her tears and assure her that it wasn’t her fault, and that she couldn’t have done anything differently. “Hi.”

You frowned. Confusion flooded your senses at the short greeting. “Huh?”

“Why are you up?” Her tone sounded almost accusatory, like she had caught you doing something that you weren’t supposed to do, like you were intruding on her time. The frown on your face turned into a slight scowl, and then you reminded yourself that patience was key with Natasha.

“I’m allowed to wait up for my future wife,” you teased, but the look in your eye was serious. You could see how the red head lingered at the doorway, like she was trying to decide whether to bolt or leave with grace. You weren’t going to give her enough time to make the decision. Come sit, please.” When Natasha didn’t move an inch, your facial expression fell. “Please.”

Natasha walked over to the bed slowly, like she was being forced to move or die. You shook your head side to side, eyeing her up and down like the answer to the problem that you didn’t know yet was written on her body somewhere. “I’m here,” she said quietly, like a distant whisper.

“Are you really?” You asked quietly, and it felt like your voice echoed like the beating of drums in the nearly silent room. “Can you please tell me what’s going on?”

“Nothing happened.”

You knew that you shouldn’t pry. You both hated prying, but you were also both naturally transparent. You two had never truly had to pry with each other before. The truth was, you didn’t know how far you could push until she snapped on you. “Are you sure?”

Like someone had flipped a switch, a small smile lit up on Natasha’s face. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to sate you for a while. “Yes, princessa. I’m very sure. I’m tired.”

That was all it took. All it took was Natasha muttering the sweet nickname to you, and it was all as good as talked about. You could rest for a moment.

“Then we can go to bed, my love.” You reached out to touch Natasha’s face, loving the familiar feeling of her soft skin. “You know, you don’t ever have to be afraid to tell me anything, Nattie.”

You stared at Natasha for a while, just admiring her face and everything about it, almost missing the way that she didn’t do it back. This was something that you two did nearly every night before going to sleep- you just watched each other. A slow, dopey grin slid onto your face, and then you leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her nose, then her cheek, and then to her pink lips in a soft yet passionate kiss, as soft as rose petals.

You pulled away and smiled at her with your eyes closed, nuzzling your face into her neck. You took in a deep breath, inhaling her sweet smell and feeling the comfort was over you like waves in the ocean. You could have told her a thousand things in that instant, but they all revolves around one master idea. “I love you so much, Natasha.”

You brushed a red strand of hair out of her face before reaching up to kiss her forehead, and then you were back in her neck, trying to sleep.

There was no response, just Natasha’s arm’s getting tighter around you and squeezing three times, each harder and shakier than the last. That was all it took for you to fall asleep.

When you woke up the next morning, you recalled having a dream that featured a woman crying, the sound distant yet close.

§§§

You had a feeling that Natasha was going to do the exact same thing that she did the first time, and you assumed correctly. You took it in stride this time and went to the flower store to pick out your bouquet that you would walk with, and probably throw. It was something that you wanted to do on your own, anyway. Like most brides, you didn’t want your future spouse seeing anything that you were going to be wearing until the big day. Not even the veil or the flowers that you would be carrying.

“That’s gorgeous!” You grinned at the employee, who mirrored your excited look. “That’s perfect, she’ll love it.”

While you gushed about your flowers, you also wondered if Natasha was doing a bouquet, too. You hoped that she had someone that would help her out with it, maybe Sharon or Wanda. Natasha wasn’t really big on the planning of the wedding. In fact, she wanted it much smaller than it was going to be, but you had convinced her to do it your way. Maybe it was your natural charm that helped you swindle the spy, or perhaps it was because she just secretely wanted the same thing.

As you walked away from the flower shop after placing the order, you walked by the busy donut shop that Natasha loved going to. Usually, it would be Natasha that stopped by and brought you some donuts, but maybe the other way around would be enough to make the red headed woman smile a bit. You stopped for a second and then didn’t hesitate to go in, pulling out a couple dollars for a tip, too.

Natasha loved chocolate donuts, even though she tried to resist eating them. You liked glazed better, but it was alright. You’d buy chocolate for her. You had hope that they would get Natasha to open up just a little, as dumb as it sounded. But a bribe never went wrong, and what was the harm in donuts?

“Thank you, Sarah,” you said after you got the box of donuts, walking out of the sweet smelling shop and down the street towards the tower.

When you got back, it was loud. It usually was pretty loud, with everyone and everything going on, but this was a different type of loud. It wasn’t the tinkering of metal in the lab or the sounds of sparring or elevators going up and down. It was shouting. A full on shouting match that was loud enough to be heard from floors down was happening. You nearly dropped the box of donuts as you hurriedly pressed the level that you and Natasha stayed on, hoping to find her in the room and out of the fight. The ride up the elevator was almost too full of anticipation as you waited in what would have been silence, if not for the yelling.

“No, because you can’t control yourself!” The voice was now obviously Steve’s. You were shocked. You had never heard Steve so riled up, ever. It was out of character for him to be so angry at someone, even if that particular someone fucked up royally. “You did something stupid, and now you’ll own up to it. Simple.”

“I fucking can’t!” You frowned. That was without a doubt Natasha. “I can’t, not right now. So fuck off.”

“I can’t fuck off after you’ve done something like this, Romanoff.” You winced as the elevator doors opened. Steve didn’t use Natasha’s last name anymore, not since they got close. And he certainly didn’t use the f-bomb much. “This is… it’s beyond-”

“What happened?” You shoved the donuts into Sam’s waiting hands, which were open for business when he saw you coming out of the elevator. “What’s all the yelling for?”

Everyone was staring at you like you were a ghost that wasn’t supposed to show up even though they had called on you. No one had an immediate answer, and so you put your hands on your hips. “Is everything okay?”

Tony looked at Natasha with sharp eyes and took a step back, raising his palms. “On you.”

It took a second for Natasha to say anything to you, and it was clear that everyone was waiting for something. It was even more clear that everyone was equally pissed at Natasha, for whatever reason.

“Everything is just fine, princessa.” Natasha’s voice carried over to your ears, smooth as honey, even though she wasn’t looking up into your eyes. “Don’t worry.”

You didn’t really believe it. How could you? She wasn’t talking to you, she wasn’t lying with you, she wasn’t counting your heartbeats like you did with her. There was something wrong, something had to be for Steve to be yelling like that, in front of everyone else. You eyed Natasha for a few extra seconds and then took the donuts back, muttering a thanks to Sam.

“Alright.” As if seeing the box made you remember why you went out in the first place, your trademark grin was back. “I ordered my bouquet today,” you hummed, walking up to Natasha and planting a kiss on her lips. When you pulled away, you murmured the customary I love you under your breath, like you two did every time you kissed. The one who initiated the kiss would say it first, and it would be answered by a quick “always”.

“A-always. Oh?” You realized that Natasha’s voice fluttered when she said it.

“Yeah, you can’t see which one, though.” You winked at her playfully, trying to ignore the way that the others looked mildly uncomfortable. You were used to uncomfortable looks, but never from them. You knew that it wasn’t homophobia, because they were never that way. So their behavior ran deeper than that. What the fuck happened? “My dress appointment is tomorrow.”

“Yeah.”

You were too busy getting a donut from the box to see the looks that everyone else shared when you spoke again. “How’s the girl who went on the mission with you? She seemed a little upset when you guys came back.”

Natasha’s hair nearly bounced with how high she shot up, her body going straight at the mention of the other girl. She looked away from your eyes for a split second, and then back. “Fine.”

You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, eyes on Natasha. “Is she good with fashion? Maybe seeing dresses and all that would make her feel a little better.”

Natasha looked horrified as she realized what you were insinuating. “No. No, she’s fine. She doesn’t need to be invited anywhere.”

“It’s just to sit and watch me try on dresses. Wanda, Sharon, and Pepper are going, right?” You looked towards Tony to confirm, and he nodded his head firmly before looking at Natasha again, a serious look in his eyes. “Maybe Abigail can go.”

“No. She’s not going.” There was something in Natasha’s tone that sounded so final, so adamant, that you knew in your heart to just drop it. It saved you both in that moment.

That didn’t mean that you weren’t allowed to make a face of disapproval. “That’s not nice at all, Nattie. I hope you weren’t the reason she was crying. You’re known to be a little mean.”

Natasha looked away from you, taking a step back. Her eyebrow was twitching, a sign of stress that you picked up on like it was your own. “I have to go.”

“Wait, I got these for-” Natasha left in a hurry, so fast that you barely even registered that she had left. She left awkwardness in her absence. “Well, she can eat them later. Feel free to have some, guys, just save one or two for her, okay?”

They were all quiet for a few seconds, like they were in the midst of a special moment where they were all feeling the same thing, everyone in the room except for you. Finally, Wanda spoke. “Okay, Y/N.” You smiled at them, gave them all sweet hugs, and left.

§§§

You were bursting at the seams at being seen for a dress appointment at Kleinfeld’s. Wanda was with you, and so were Sharon and Pepper. They were excited for you, but no one matched your energy.

You were a girl finally getting what she had been dreaming of her whole life; to get married in a beautiful dress to the person she loved. You would soon be walking down the isle to see Natasha waiting for you, flanked by everyone else that was ever important to them.

You must have been the luckiest woman in the world.

“You’re really excited,” Sharon mused, but it was more of an observation than a statement.

“I’m so excited,” you confirmed. “I’m marrying the love of my life in what’s going to be my dream dress, I know it.” You grinned as the four of you watched people bustling around the shop. There was a bride near tears, just like on the TV episodes, and you watched fondly. Seeing people get what they wanted made you happy.

The search for the perfect dress went nothing less than perfectly. Within the first two sweeps, you managed to get into a dress that everyone thought was perfect for you, and you loved it, too. It even brought the three out of the haze that they were in, out of focus and minds so far gone that your excited squeals were all that broke them out of their thoughts.

“It’s gorgeous, Y/N.” Pepper said, her voice soft and cautious as they walked up to pay. It was silent as you waited for an attendant to come to the counter and check you out.

“I- I think there’s something you should know.” The other girls’ head whipped Pepper’s way, and she gave them a look that told them that she wasn’t going to back down from whatever she had to say.

You had what felt like a permanent grin on your face as you thought about the dress. It was a dramatic ball gown, blush pink and flowy. You were almost as in love with it as you were with Natasha, and the matching heels that you got and the gorgeous veil that matched topped it all off. You and your soon to be bridal party walked out into the crisp air, and you turned your head towards Pepper. “Sure, what is it?”

There were a few beats of silence. “Let’s go sit in the car,” Pepper insisted, and so they walked back to the car that Happy was driving for them, where he was sitting with the partition rolled down. He gave them a half assed greeting before they all piled in. “Can I start off with saying that… I’m sorry if you feel like any of us betrayed you.”

You trusted them all with your life, but that didn’t stop your heart from starting to race at the words Pepper said. Whatever this announcement was, it wasn’t good at all. “What?” When no one said anything, you laughed a little. “What, is the dress actually ugly and you didn’t say anything while we were in there? Do I need to go back?”

“No, the dress is beautiful.” The other girls nodded, and then you were sure of yourself and your taste again. “It’s just… Abigail.”

You frowned a bit, immediately thinking of the tragic scene where the girl rushed out of the quintet, breaking down by the second. “Oh, poor thing. Is she not doing as well as they say she is? I know a first big mission can be tough.”

There was a thick silence before Sharon blurted it out. “I am so, so sorry.” You leaned forward, heart skipping a few beats while Sharon took in a deep breath. You knew that some kind of blow was coming just by her apology, and you were bracing for it. “Natasha and Abigail had an affair on the mission.”

In the movies, it was like an instant shattering of the heart when news was broken like that. Immediate tears, automatic screaming and cursing and wanting to call up the other person to threaten them. There was lashing out, the breaking of glass, all the cinematic things that made actors on screen look better and less awkward when they broke down. You always thought that they were overreacting.

Now you knew that they weren’t. You felt that way on the inside. Your mind was raging like a hurricane and a tornado all at once, one disaster coming from the east and the other from the west. Your anger was the tornado, whipping around and threatening to destroy everything in your path and lash out at every single damn person in that car. But just like a tornado, you wore out and disbanded, all in your head. All that was left was the hurricane. The sadness. The disappointment. The heartbreak.

You had never even entertained the thought of how you would be after getting betrayed by her, but if you had, you probably would have imagined that the tornado would have acted first. But it didn’t. Unlike in the movies, all you did was tilt your head to the side and ask for the words to be repeated, even though you didn’t even listen for a second. You couldn’t believe it. Not Natasha. Not your Natasha. Not your angel.

“Natasha and Abigail slept with each other on multiple occasions on the mission, by word of Steve,” Sharon pointed out, her voice similar to the way a doctor sounded while delivering bad news, only a little shakier. “Abigail ran out crying because she fell in love with Natasha and knew that it would never really happen, not because she ruined the mission.”

Not only had Natasha slept with another person, but she had somehow convinced the girl that they were going to be together. Natasha didn’t have a ring, and the girl was new. There was no way she would have known that you two were together unless someone explicitly told her, and there were better things to do on a mission. It wasn’t her fault. Even if she had known, it wasn’t Abigail’s fault. Natasha Romanoff knew better. She knew a thousand times better.

“I don’t think either of them meant for it to happen,” Pepper said, immediately trying to calm you down, even though you hadn’t even spoken an angry word yet, and you looked like you weren’t even close to shouting.

The distinct sound of the partition rolling up was what brought you back to the present.

“But it did happen,” you said slowly, not even realizing that your teeth were gritted. “It happened.”

You couldn’t believe it. You didn’t want to, you wanted to believe it was a lie and calmly confront Natasha, but Steve was the one who had said it, and Steve didn’t lie. Why hadn’t he told you before?

Now that you knew what went on during the mission, you could see that everyone was acting weird. Everyone knew, there was no question about it. Which meant that everyone knew, and no one told you. They didn’t even hint toward anything, and they knew that you were supposed to be marrying the woman who went behind your back and did the unforgivable multiple times.

“We- we’re supposed to be getting married.” The pitiful sentence was all that you could string together in a thought as you looked out of the window at the traffic. You wished that the cars would just go, fly around so that you could cry by yourself. “I don’t even know what to say.” There were a million things happening in your mind at once, and trying not to cry in front of everyone was the biggest effort.

“I’m sorry,” Sharon’s voice said, and she really did sound apologetic. But it wasn’t enough in the moment. You wanted to hear Natasha say it, if all was true. But you knew it was. “We’re all sorry. We were waiting for Romanoff to own up to what she did.” Sharon said, obviously trying not to feel the wrath of you that was surely bubbling beneath the surface.

You could have been angry towards them. You knew that you felt betrayed, by everyone that knew and chose not to speak, that was a no-brainer. You could have been a lot of things at the moment, but there were bigger fish to fry. You clenched your fists and looked at the window, blinking rapidly as you grappled for composure. “Don’t apologize, you didn’t do anything.”

“I don’t think you-”

“I get it. It’s alright. I just prefer not to speak right now, ‘s all.” And conversation ended. But that was when the turmoil in your head and heart started to crank up the energy.

Your first instinct was to bust in there and look for the Black Widow herself, to yell until you lost your voice. Your first instinct was to cause a scene and embarrass her as much as Natasha did to you. You couldn’t believe she had gotten everyone to lie for her. You couldn’t believe that she had an obvious affair with a new agent. You couldn’t believe that you walked around thinking that nothing was wrong while everyone else pitied you behind your back.

Unfortunately, you were quite used to not being enough. Not enough to make it into ivy leagues, not enough to make the track team, not having enough to afford to buy all of your clothes without cringing and thinking about putting some items back. But you were never going to be used to not being enough for Natasha Romanov.

The drive back was the most awkward drive that the four of them had ever been on, without question. You had tears streaming down your face but you were still as silent as the night, just like everyone else. You hardly ever cried. You were always the ray of sunshine and rationality in the tower, and now everything positive had been blown out by the darkness that Natasha created.

When everyone got out of the car, it was sluggishly. Everyone knew what was bound to happen, but it was questionable whether or not the end of the blow out was going to result in settlement or people storming and and leaving. You already knew how it would end.

The second that the elevator landed on you and Natasha’s floor, you shakily thanked the girls for their honesty and walked right out, knowing that it was probably the last time that you would ever be going up in Stark Tower. In your angry fantasy about confronting your fiancée, you imagined storming in and shouting her name, getting her attention and then breaking her down into pieces like the words did to you in the car.

But once you were in your room, you found that the fantasies were just that, and you couldn’t say a word or do a thing but find your suitcase and pack, all the fire leaving your body the second that you saw your room.

You were halfway through gathering everything that was yours in the room that you and Natasha shared, tears streaming down steadily, when you registered that it was real. Natasha had really done the unimaginable, and there was no turning back. A small sob escaped your throat when you saw the sweater you had gotten Natasha hanging up in the closet, the same one that she wore when she got down on one knee for you. Did that mean nothing, too? Was the meaning and emotion of that and everything that led up to it blown to smithereens by something as trivial as two months?

The door flung open. “What are you doing?”

“Don’t talk to me.” You blurted, turning your head to not look at Natasha, trying to avoid her blue gaze. If you looked, you had no doubts that you would turn to stone, and that you would never find the strength to leave the woman who you loved the most and hurt you the most, all within three minutes.

Natasha looked bewildered by the suitcase on the bed. “Are you- are you leaving?”

“What the hell else am I supposed to do?” The temper that was kept just below simmering in the car was finally starting to boil over. “I can’t believe you, Natasha!”

“I-” She sputtered, and you gave her a pointed look in response. “Who told you?”

The question brought fire into your veins. She knew that you knew, because she knew that it was the one secret that had the power to make you so emotional. You two kept no secrets, and for this to be the first? That was painful.

You knew that Natasha would sense your lie about who told you and who didn’t, but you told it anyway. There was no use in causing a riff between the team because they wanted to help you. “I figured it out myself. Why didn’t you tell me?”

Natasha held her hands out in front of her body, and the gesture was so similar to the way that she used to hold her hands out in a silent ask for you to hold them. You hated the way that your heart lurched, and the way that you craved the feeling of her hands even more. “It was an accident.”

An accident? A two month escapade with another woman was an accident?

“After that long ass ride home on the quinjet, you could have at least come up with a better lie.”

“Princessa-”

“I- fuck you.” Your voice cracked in the middle of the explicative, tears falling into the suitcase pitifully. It made your raging temper even worse. “Fuck you.”

“My love-”

“I don’t understand why!” You couldn’t contain the waves of emotion you felt anymore as you slammed the top of the unfinished suitcase closed. “I give you everything I have every single day. Every day. I love you with all of my heart and I do everything I can to make you happy and you give me this? I tried so hard to make sure that we were both happy together, and we were. So, why?”

The look on Natasha’s face wasn’t unfamiliar to you. You knew it well, but it had never been used on you before. It was the look of a spy who didn’t want to say a damn word, silent resistance that you knew would be unbroken. That’s when you knew that you may never know the real reason. And it broke you. “There isn’t a reason.”

You crumbled faster than you ever had before “Natasha, we were- how could you do this to me?” You collapsed into sobs, falling onto the bed and putting your face into your hands. You didn’t know how long you cried for until you felt a hand on your shoulder, very hesitant to even attempt at being comforting. You didn’t have the energy to tell her to fuck off.

“I’m sorry,” Natasha cooed, and for a second, it felt like something was right again. Natasha being gentle was a regular occurrence, a side to the famous ex assassin that only you saw. It was your biggest safety blanket in life. But when she opened her mouth again, you were brought back to why you two were even doing this in the first place. “I didn’t mean for any of it to happen.”

You shook your head out of anger. The fact that the lie was shitty made it worse, made it hurt more. She didn’t even want to come up with a lie that would make you stay?

“Somehow you convinced that poor girl that you were going to be with her. How did you manage to do that on accident? How did you sleep with her multiple times on accident? You lead her on emotionally.”

“No.”

“Yes.” You pushed her hand off of your shoulder. “You told her some pretty little words and she fell for them as most do, right? Like I did, I guess. Just tell me the truth.”

“I didn’t-”

You remembered the way the girl was so distraught. You remembered the amount of tears that she had. You remembered the way that she avoided looking in your eyes, the way that she looked completely heart broken. Just like how you looked. You scoffed. “She told you she loved you, didn’t she?”

Natasha’s light blue eyes were boring into yours as she was silent. For the first time in a while, there was no telling of what Natasha was thinking in your mind. You were disconnected. “Yes.”

The words hurt to get out, but you had to know the answer to them. At any cost. Even at the cost of your own heart and sanity. “And you told her the same.”

There was a thick silence that spanned across multiple frantic heartbeats. “Yes.”

The next words were automatic. “I’m done.” You opened the suitcase again. The tears were coming harder than ever, warping your voice so much that your not Natasha hardly recognized it. “Done.”

“You can’t just-”

“Yes, I can!” You whipped around, eyes nailing Natasha right in her place. “Unless you can give me a good reason for what the hell you did, I’m done.”

Excruciating silence. It struck like lightning on the last tree in a struck down forest.

You turned on your heel, but then, words bubbled up in your throat, and you couldn’t shove them down. “When you miss me after you’re done, don’t come back to me.” Your voice cracked in the middle, but you kept pushing. “When you stop and think about what we could have been, do not come and find me. Because you’ll figure it out one day, and it’ll get through that thick skull.”

Natasha’s eyes were slightly watery as she looked on, taking a few steps forward with on outstretched arm, looking to latch on to you. “Love, please.”

You scoffed and ran out of the door, with nothing but a suitcase and a bag in your hands. You cried all the way to the elevator, ignoring the fact that Wanda and Vision’s room was right there across the hall, and how they without a doubt heard everything. Hell, everyone had heard everything. The argument weren’t exactly quiet.

You cried even harder when the doors of the elevator closed. Your hands shook as you brought them up to your face, remembering far too late that Tony Stark sometimes watched the tapes, especially elevator ones. You couldn’t even bring yourself to care. You turned into yourself and sobbed as your body and head shook, trying to rid herself of everything that happened. You cried more when you realized that you hadn’t meant a word of what you said to Natasha.

Deep down, through all of the emotions, you wanted her to seek you out when she learned her lesson. You didn’t know why, and you knew that you didn’t want it any time soon, but you knew that you wanted it.

It was supposed to be a magical day. The day you got the dress was the day it all became real, the day that solidified the fact that you would be getting married to the woman that you loved. You were heart broken. The familiar sound of the elevator stopping and the doors opening barely snapped you out of your well deserved pity party.

You only took one look at the new arrival, and that was when it was decided that the universe, was indeed, very unkind.

Abigail stood there like a deer in head lights, swallowing and looking with wide eyes, certainly unsure about whether or not she should just leave or apologize and hop in and pretend like she didn’t know what was going on. She looked like she expected confrontation.

Your wobbly smile shocked her. “You don’t have to be scared. Come in.” Your voice was just as shaky as the smile you offered, stepping to the side a bit and giving the other woman enough room.

You felt bad. Abigail was young, even younger than you. There was no way that she knew. No one really resisted the charms of Natasha Romanoff, anyway, and you knew it. Especially not a wide eyed newbie who was desperate to please on her first mission with the big guys, some of the original Avengers. There was no doubt that she felt terrible based on the way that she didn’t look you in the eye, and how she avoided everyone. There was only one person in the wrong, and it wasn’t this poor girl.

The doors dinged as they reached the bottom, and right before they opened, you smiled at her. “It’s okay,” your voice was a strong whisper. “It’s not your fault.” You gave her one look as you wheeled your suitcase out of the elevator, taking long strides to reach the huge front door of the tower, praying for no more interruptions.

“Y/N!”

You didn’t want to stop at all. You knew who’s commanding voice it was, and stopping to talk didn’t seem like an option. You preferred not to talk to anyone on the team, especially not one of the people who went on the mission. You wiped your cheeks and turned around anyway. “Yes?”

Steve stood before you, a sincere expression on his face as he looked you up and down, your obvious and inevitable departure making him wince. “I’m sorry.”

There was nothing that you could really say to him. He wasn’t the point of your anger and he was a friend, even if he had kept something from you. “You’re not the one who did it.”

“I could have told you.”

“No, she should have, a long time before someone else did. You didn’t do anything wrong.” The story of infidelity that happened was Natasha’s story to tell. While you still felt a little more than bitter about being an idiot in the dark about the whole thing, you would have preferred to hear it from her, one hundred percent. “I’m just pissed I found out after buying the perfect dress and veil and all of it. I was so ready.” You felt like a fool.

“I don’t know why she-”

“I don’t know why, either.” You admitted, shaking your head slowly. “But one day, maybe I’ll figure it out.”

“You’re leaving.” Steve saw it as a closed chapter now that you were storming out. Anyone would, but you knew better. You knew how Natasha worked, you knew how you worked, but most importantly, you knew how you two worked together. “You and Natasha- you and Nat are special. I’ve never seen anything like what you two have in my life, no one has. That’s why we’re all so mad. She ruined the one relationship that everyone obviously knows is true love, for no reason.”

“I know.”

He looked guilty for even saying the words. “You’re not going to try and work it out?”

“Don’t you think that I know what we have is special?” You asked him, new tears welling up in your eyes as you spoke. “I’m leaving this to her because I trust her with it. I don’t forgive her, and maybe I never will, but this is for her to decide.”

“What makes you think that she’ll decide right? Or what she’ll even decide at all?”

“She’ll come back.” You stated with certainty, and these were the first words that hadn’t had a crack or wobble in them since you started talking to the red head. “She’ll miss me and she’ll be over the thrill of whatever happened on the mission, and she’ll find me, wherever I decide to go. She’ll come back to me, just like I would come back to her. It could take weeks or years, but she will. That’s how we work.”

Steve was momentarily stunned, but after a few short moments, you knew that you had convinced him. “And you’re willing to wait for her? However long it takes?”

You lifted your lips at him, even more tears building up in your eyes as your answer flew up to your lips without even thinking. “She’ll come and find out.”

You walked away with heavy steps, already feeling her lingering on your skin, and the haunting memories of the two of you as happy as could be swirling around in your head.

§

You were well aware that removing Natasha from your life would hurt. But you never could have anticipated how much it would hurt.

Natasha was the safety net you never knew you needed. She was the one person on earth who made you feel truly wanted, needed even. She knew everything that you required to feel loved and you knew her just the same, and you both did those things. And that’s what made you two different.

You had been cheated on before. That was how Natasha had met you, actually. Your last boyfriend had cheated on you like the dirty dog he was with nearly every woman he was cute enough to be with for a night, and Natasha met you while you were getting hammered at a bar because you found out. Natasha met you at your lowest point and raised you up with all her might, and still had energy to love you. You felt useless and discarded, thrown under the bed and tossed to the side of the road, but she found you and made you something new. She made you her favorite.

§

Natasha was everywhere.

She was in the way that you made your coffee, because you hated it before you met her, and she introduced you to a kind that you liked. You got as addicted to it as you were to her.

She was in the way that you walked around the park at night instead of in the morning like you did before you met her, because she liked looking at the stars together.

She was in the way that you searched for her next to you in your sleep and when you first woke up. She was in the ring you still had. She was in the way you wrote your letter ‘n’ now, because you wrote her notes for years and always made the ‘n’ fancy just for her. It stuck. She was somehow related to every show and every movie and every brand of ice cream, and from the second week of suffering without her, you knew that she would linger on you like a faded tattoo.

During the third week, you swore that you could smell her perfume, though it made no sense. You had done laundry many times, and all of a sudden the smell popped up, like she was dropping in to spray the perfume and then leaving as soon as she came. The rich smell was something that you would never forget, and it hung around like thick smoke in your mind. You wanted it to leave.

You cursed her name all throughout the fourth week of being alone in your small apartment in Brooklyn. Everything was her fault. The washer broke, Natasha somehow did it. If you woke up with makeup still on your face from the past night, Natasha was at fault.

You went shopping during the sixth week, and you swore you saw flashes of her red hair in the grocery line, pitifully walking faster with your cart to both flee and go towards it. A part of you knew that she would never shop this far out, but you couldn’t help it. You missed her. You missed her a lot.

But that didn’t change that it stung so, so badly.

§

It was disgustingly close to what the wedding date would have been when you were lying in bed with a stray cat that you had managed to nurse back to health and call your own about two weeks prior. In a way, it was freeing. Natasha hated animals. They were a responsibility in her mind, nothing more. You loved the cat quickly, and named him Henry.

There were three sharp knocks on the door that you would have taken for strokes of thunder if they weren’t so close. You frowned and stood up, walking to the window to peak outside and see that there was a thunderstorm rolling through, the wind higher than usual and the rain coming down sideways.

You walked to the door with the small cat trailing behind you like a loyal companion. You cracked a smile when he meowed, and you looked through the peep hole, the bright porch light shocking your eye for a second, and then you saw.

Natasha Romanoff was standing there, soaking wet with her arms hanging at her sides, trembling from the cold.

You took two steps back that startled Henry, causing him to meow louder this time. You breathed in, trying to be quiet, but you knew that she knew you were there. She was so trained that you knew she heard you approaching, and when you took your steps away from the door. You both knew each other were there.

You had indirectly told her to seek you out when she was ready, and here she was.

Were you ready?

Like you were a child trying to eavesdrop, you held your breath as you leaned into the door, putting your ear on it as you struggled to hear something, anything, from her. She wasn’t talking. You looked up into the peephole again, and she was looking at her feet, waiting for something to happen. She knew that you were deciding.

You had spent time looking for her in places you knew she would never be, running to and from things that looked like or reminded you of her, and now the real thing stood in your porch light in the rain. She came back to you.

She came back, but that didn’t erase everything that happened. Not at all. Her two months of fun and new experiences acted as the eraser, painting over everything that they had ever done in black paint. The joy of dancing with her under street lights and kissing in Tony’s limos and her hand under your sweatshirt didn’t amount to the pain it felt when she ripped herself from you.

But why did it hurt so much if they weren’t the same amount of emotion, if not more? If you looked at it with a rational mind, was the joy not worth more than the pain?

The pain weighed like bricks. There was one big brick that weighed half a ton on one scale, nearly tipping the other side.

But the joy? It weighed like clouds, because that’s what joy was. It was the feeling of being above the clouds. And you found that every moment of joy that you had Natasha, even though it was the weight of clouds, still outweighed the fat brick.

But were all of the cloud moments enough to possibly take another brick?

Your hand moved before you knew it, and you were undoing the chain and unlocking the door, yanking it open roughly and staring her down.

She was shocked. Her eyes were wide as she stared at you without any barriers, automatic tears welling up. Had she come all that way to not even know whether or not you would answer? Hell, you had done all of that while in limbo with yourself.

But now, without even knowing how Natasha truly felt, without even hearing one word from her mouth, you knew something changed.

“I knew you’d come back.”

[mycrofts-gunbrella]

Caring is the Greatest Advantage (Mycroft Holmes x Reader) Part 4

A/N- Hoping this one has come out a bit happier than the last instalment! I’m trying my best to not write Mycroft too out of character and focusing on how much more emotion he had displayed in season 4.. I have a few more chapters planned out so far and I am hoping to, at the very least, update weekly! I hope you all enjoy this chapter and, please, don’t forget to leave a comment letting me know what you think! Kind words or constructive criticism are always welcomed and inspire me to write more! Thank you!

Word Count: 4416

"Did you fancy doing anything else today? Well, this evening I suppose suits better." You asked Mycroft, clearing up the plates from dinner. Dinner here being a term used loosely- after the emotional turmoil only a few hours ago at the revelation of both yesterday's events and your inner attractions, neither of you particularly felt like cooking, or eating for that matter, and settled on a sandwich just to provide some energy.

The energy of the room had felt different now, now that everything was in the open, now that the pair of you had finally broken that barrier to move further in your relationship. It was nice, calming. The pair of you weren't children, the confirmation of shared attraction didn't mean you immediately jumped each other, or feel the need to be constantly touching in some aspect or another- but the mere idea of knowing that the attraction between you was mutual, and that you wanted to act upon that was more than enough for now. It felt incredible.

"Mmm, what did you have in mind?" He hummed back, standing from the small table in the kitchen to help you with the washing up- not that you weren't fully capable of doing so yourself, it just felt nice acting a little domestic- electing to wash the dishes himself and leaving you to dry them and put them back in the cupboard. You shrugged, closing the cupboard's door and leaning against the counter.

"St James' is just round the corner isn't it? We could go for a walk? The weather is oddly nice for September." You suggested, grinning as you watched Mycroft look down at his current attire of jogging bottoms and a band t-shirt. You didn't need the power of a Holmes to know what that face meant. "Compromise. You don't have to wear the joggers in public, but you also cannot wear a suit, I swore against it."

"If you're suggesting for me to leave my home in my undergarments you've completely lost your mind." You looked at Mycroft and allowed his brain to think a little more. "Oh bugger you can't mean-"

"You and I both know you have a pair of jeans in your wardrobe Myc. Joggers or Jeans, the choice is yours." Mycroft opened and closed his mouth multiple times before rolling his eyes and muttering something under his breath that sounded Latin. "Oi at least have the decency to do it in French so I have a chance of understanding what you say when you swear at me." You quipped, jokingly throwing two fingers up at him as he gave in and sulked up the stairs.

"Tu seras la mort de moi." His voice was still quiet, but loud enough for you to understand him.

"Et pourtant tu serais perdu sans moi." You shouted back, teasing a little. Mycroft didn't answer but smiled to himself as he walked into his bedroom, agreeing with you completely but too high in his pride to admit it. Downstairs, you rummaged through the other bags from Anthea, feeling thankful as you saw that she had equally bought you some hoodies too, pulling on a maroon one before grabbing and sliding on your boots. A few minutes later you heard Mycroft's voice from upstairs, muffled completely excluding the 'goodbye' that sounded as he left the bedroom and made his way down the stairs. "Planning my arrest were you? Should I be expected to enter the park to MI6 agents dragging me into a car and shipping me off somewhere for forcing the British government into denim?" You turned around and saw him in his change of attire, whistling approvingly at the sight of him in the dark grey pair of jeans you had bought him a few years ago- 'because you cannot walk into a pub wearing anything purchased on Savile Row, Mycroft'- and the navy blue blazer he had chosen to match with them; the small evidence of The Who's logo peeking out slightly between the lapels. It was seldom Mycroft wore such casual clothing, but feeling welcomed by your reaction certainly made him more comfortable. Maybe at some point you'd tell him it's because those jeans make his bum look incredible. Mycroft's cheeks flushed and he shook his head, ignoring the noise of encouragement you had made.

"MI5, actually, but do not be too alarmed- I've insisted they only use force if absolutely necessary." He teased, hoisting his scarf from the coat rack by the front door and expertly wrapping it around his neck. You jabbed him lightly in the arm, knowing he was joking but equally wanting to make sure the phone call wasn't from Sherlock already pestering him about something or another. "It's fine, truly. Nothing to cause government upset.. only public." You went to question what he meant but was instead caught off guard by him eyeing you up. "Are you really going out.. in that?" Mycroft gestured to your clothing and for a brief moment you felt a little insecure, frowning slightly at him. He caught on immediately and apologised. "No- I mean.. You will likely get cold, will you not? A hooded sweatshirt isn't the warmest item of clothing I can offer you." You grinned at his concern and just passed him his beloved umbrella (it wasn't raining, but that didn't make a difference) before opening the front door.

"Myc I have pulled bodies out of the River Thames wearing nothing more than a pencil skirt and a blouse, I will be fine." You grabbed his hand and tugged him outside, shutting the door behind him. He wanted to argue back but he knew any attempt would be futile- you both knew that you could be more stubborn than Mycroft and so he didn't wish to cause harm on what could be a splendid evening. You took your normal position beside Mycroft, your hand resting in the crook of his elbow, while his rested in his pocket, the other holding onto his umbrella handle. The chill of London's air brushed the back of your neck, leading you to pull the hood of your jumper over your head before continuing your walk, not allowing Mycroft to have the pleasure of knowing he was right. but also not missing the smirk that tugged at his lips as he noticed- of course he bloody did.

The short walk to the park was in a comfortable silence. Mycroft found himself thinking over today's events, how even he couldn't have predicted that this would be how it would end. He was certain you would have left earlier, he'd even prepared himself for the chances of a punch to his nose in anger, and so never in his right mind did he expect you to stay, let alone embrace him while he cried, forgive him for the unforgivable, to... kiss him. He felt childish thinking back on it, but he kept replaying that moment over in his mind. It wasn't a proper kiss, it was barely there at all, and yet, if Mycroft thought hard enough he could still feel the light pressure of your lips on his, and it left him eager for more.

"Penny for your thoughts?" Your voice distracted him as you walked down the final street before the park. He blinked, looking down at you, at your joint arms and offering a smile.

"Just that I didn't expect today to happen the way that events turned out." You opened your mouth to make a comment about how Mycroft knew everything but he cut you off. "I deduce, I cannot predict the future, Y/N."

"But you can mind read?" He raised his other hand, one finger to his mouth in a 'shhh' motion and you grinned.

"Penny for yours?" You hummed in response as you looked at yourself in the reflection of a car window and pouted, rounding the corner to walk through the park's gates.

"I look like an egg." Mycroft let out a rare laugh, caught off guard by your answer. "That you do, my dear. But a rather beautiful egg." It was your turn to flush now. Getting any form of compliment from Mycroft Holmes was a rarity, and when they did come to surface they were usually on one's intellectual skills, or the times where you'd go out to a fancy restaurant and he would claim 'your dress' was beautiful, but never you directly. Your lack of response made Mycroft nervous and he spoke again. "Apologies, upon reflection that was a very backhanded compliment." You squeezed his arm and nudged yourself in closer, welcoming in the warmth his body was emitting.

"No no, I am incredibly flattered to be deemed a beautiful egg." You laughed. "It would make a lovely epitaph don't you thi-." He tensed. "Yeah, sorry, bit soon." You continued your walk for a little further before something clicked in your mind and you stopped in your tracks. Mycroft stumbled a little at the sudden cease in movement and shot you a confused glare. "Myc.. There's nobody else here."

"Excellent observation, Y/N. I now understand why you're so well respected down the Yard."

"Git. I meant.. we're in one of the most tourist centred parts of London, in the early evening, and there's nobody here." Mycroft raised his nose a little in the air, a movement witnessed by anybody else that would be mistaken for smugness, or being pretentious. But on Mycroft you knew it meant he felt a little embarrassed, raising his head ever so higher so you couldn't see the dusting of red on his cheeks. "The phone call... Mycroft bloody Holmes did you abuse your power as a government official to rent out the entirety of St James' park so that nobody would have to see you in your jeans?" He avoided your gaze and you began to laugh, removing your hand from his arm as you wiped a tear that spilled down your cheek out of amusement before tugging him over to a bench that was a few feet away.

"Should I not have?" His tone was light, relaxed knowing that you weren't mad with him and that you found the situation entertaining.

"It's not that.. It's just that nobody else WOULD." You rubbed your numbing fingers together and tucked them inside the sleeve of your hoodie. "You. Are an extraordinary man, Mr Holmes. You never cease to amaze me." He smiled softly, tentatively reaching over to take your half sleeve covered hand into his own pale one.

"And you, are freezing." He commented. You dismissed his assessment and instead focused on the view in front of you, the slight appearance of the London Eye poking above some trees from across the Thames.

"After living here for so long, sometimes I forget how beautiful London truly is." You spoke, shuffling the rest of your hand from your sleeve to lace your fingers between his. He hummed in agreement as he watched on. "And you stole this view from thousands of visitors this evening for the sake of your own dignity and so we could be alone. What do you have? People guarding every entrance? A few loitering around somewhere to make sure there were no stragglers? Christ are they armed? It just so.. so.." Mycroft felt himself become uncomfortable.

"I can be a very selfish person Y/N, you know that."

"I was going to say sexy but now I feel as though I'm not being as sympathetic to the tourists as you were expecting me to be." Mycroft tensed again and you leant to rest your head on his shoulder. "You should probably try to get used to that. I've been waiting a fairly long time to actively be allowed to say things like that to you and it not sound really weird, so I'm making up for lost time."

"How long?" His voice was quiet, likely his mind recovering from you, for the second time that day, calling him such a thing. It wasn't that he didn't like it, he was extremely flattered, but he just found it very hard to believe that you truly thought that way about him; that anyone could. You thought for a moment, childishly using your fingers to count.

"How long since I realised I had a thing for you? As of today it's been 5 years, 3 months and 17 days.. or, in less creepy terms to not make it seem like I've been counting, 2 weeks before I broke up with Thomas. It didn't feel fair to keep dragging him along, especially when I started to look forward to meeting you for dinner much more than I did meeting him for our weekly date night. He's a lovely guy and deserved more than that. I tried for those couple of weeks to get over it but I couldn't." Mycroft stayed silent but you could practically hear his brain whirring. "How long did I wish that you somehow felt the same way about me? Probably 5 minutes after the last thought." You laughed, feeling ridiculous for sounding like a school girl with a crush. "What about you? Pining after me for long or just spontaneously after I kissed you?" You joked, trying to make the whole ordeal feel a little less embarrassing. Mycroft shifted in his seat, laying his focus in the warmth that he could feel spreading to your hand that he held in his. He wasn't the type for large exclamations of emotion, or really speaking about the way he feels at all. But, upon hearing your revelation, he bit the bullet and spoke.

"I have never been the kind of man to experience typical human emotion. Until yourself and Gregory came along, I hadn't even the experience of having acquaintances, let alone.. friends." His eyes stayed forward, watching as the London Eye rotated slowly and focusing on its movements. "Approximately 6 months prior to the time you have mentioned, I began to realise that the way I felt towards you was far different to the way I felt about Gregory, and not the same way I feel towards Sherlock. I pressed the thought into the back of my mind for the better part of a year, before Sherlock told me that you were 'obviously' experiencing some kind of affection towards me, which I told him was preposterous, but from then the thought of you in that aspect felt welcoming. I had never expected in my life to have those kinds of emotions for anybody, let alone have them reciprocated, but I still chose to ignore them. I chose to keep you as my friend rather than risk losing you at all.. Then Eurus happened. Seeing you on that.. screen. Knowing what they could do.. Knowing I could lose you anyway.. it flicked something inside of my brain that made me regret not talking to you about it sooner. I was trying to work out the right way to bring it up, but then you did it for me." The side of his mouth flicked up into a small smile and disappeared, the embarrassment of talking so much on emotion taking over.

"You still look cute when you're embarrassed." You commented, not wanting to elaborate on his wordings more. It meant everything to you that he had even said that much, so you weren't going to push him further out of his comfort zone by pestering on. "Though as much as I'd love to look at your little flustered cheeks in this moonlight, I have to admit that you were right and I am bloody freezing, can we go back?" You took your hand back from his briefly to rub against your other one, a feeble attempt to bring warmth back into your fingertips. Though warmth soon enveloped round your neck as you felt Mycroft begin to wrap his cashmere scarf around you, folding and wrapping it expertly until you felt comfortably warm, taking a moment to breathe in the scent of his cologne that loitered in the fabric.

"I'm always right." He grinned smugly, standing from the bench and offering his elbow out to you once more. You nudged it away, missing the disappointed look on Mycroft's face, before instead grabbing his hand, lacing your fingers between his and tucking them into his pocket for warmth, your other arm folding over your body to hold his arm.

"I'll prove you wrong on that at some point, mark my words." You beamed, starting the walk back to Queen Anne's Gate and relishing in the warmth of the taller man beside you. Mycroft couldn't hide the small smile that appeared on his face from your action, choosing himself to push closer and close the gap between you even more. He swiftly pulled his phone from his pocket, leaving his umbrella dangling from his wrist, as he made a quick call to Anthea.

"I suppose we better let the tourists have their park back.. at least for now." He spoke, more to you than to Anthea but nonetheless she relayed the message to security who began to pack up and reopen the gates to the public. It had barely been a minute before they had all left, all except the PA in question who watched on fondly upon seeing the pair of you leaving, fighting the urge to text the man that it was about damn time.

***

The walk back was incredibly quick and you soon found yourselves walking back through the front door, discarding layers of warmer clothing, Mycroft opting to put the sweats back on in place of his jeans.

"I'm thinking we have a cuppa and then head to bed? I'm knackered." You proposed, flicking the kettle on and settling back to rest on the edge of the kitchen counter. Mycroft hummed in agreement, reaching to grab the necessities. You quickly kicked off from the counter and wandered back into the front room, pulling Mycroft in tow. "Seems as good a time as any to have some music on, Greg made me this mixtape a few weeks ago. He said it's some classics I already love, and a bunch that I'm going to, so it sounds pretty promising." From behind you Mycroft opened his mouth to speak but you cut him off. "If you're about to chastise me for calling a CD a mixtape, don't waste your breath. Mix-CD just sounds horrendous." He stayed silent, inwardly amused at the fact you hadn't even seen his face and yet knew exactly what he was going to say, and you called him the 'mind-reader'. The Kinks began to play quietly through the speakers, 'Have a Cuppa Tea' fittingly being the first song to play on shuffle. Usually you despised any type of mixtape, or 'best of' albums, claiming rather strongly that they defeated the point of artists bringing out the original albums, ruining the story behind each one. But when it came to Greg you trusted him completely with music taste and had never been disappointed thus far. The click of the kettle in the kitchen sounded, making you walk into the other room and prepare your drinks- you hadn't bothered asking Mycroft the way he had it, you had that burnt to memory years ago. Perching back onto the sofa besides Mycroft, you handed him the beverage and sighed in content.

"You missed the Sex Pistols. Forgive me if I cannot hear you for the next 20 minutes, I have a feeling that my ears have bled." He teased, taking a sip of his tea and settling it on the table beside him. Before you had a chance to answer, another Kinks song began to sound in the room, the slower rythm of Waterloo Sunset.

"You're going to pay for saying those things, you know I love the Sex Pistols." You pouted, moving your own tea to the coffee table. "I think, Mr Holmes, you need to dance with me in ways of apology." You grinned, standing up and holding your hand out to him. "It's a rare slower song from Lestrade's musical repertoire so I'm not expecting you to start headbanging or anything.."

"Do people slow dance to Rock music normally?" He asked, smiling.

"No they don't.. but when have you ever been a man who follows the rules of normality?" He took your hand at that, standing himself up and leading you to an emptier part of the room, tea forgotten. You softly placed your hands on his shoulders and rested your head on his chest, his reaching round to settle on the small of your back as you began to sway together slowly, the only sound that could be heard was the music and Mycroft's erratic heartbeat that he was sure meant he was going to have a heart attack. "See, this is nice." He hummed in agreement, the vibrations of his deep voice reaching his chest and vibrating against your cheek. "We could have done this years ago.." You commented, thinking on all the lost time you had with Mycroft, all of the years you had listened to music together and could have danced, holding each other as close as you were now.

"We'd have struggled being as Gregory only gave you this CD a few weeks ago.." You laughed and swatted his shoulder.

"You know what I mean.. oh the power of cowardice and fear." You closed your eyes, holding onto this moment as though you had never wanted it to end. Alas, the song began to come to a close, and yet neither of you made an attempt to move. The instrumental introduction to your favourite Clash song began to play and you grinned. "Now this is a song. I'm surprised Greg put it on here, I'd have thought he'd be sick of it by now with the amount of times I play it at work." As the vocals began you felt Mycroft stiffen in your arms, the fingers on the hands on your back began to dig into your skin slightly, not painful, but protective and his heartbeat picked up pace even more.

"Could we skip this one? Please?" His tone of voice was different this time, not the calm, relaxed voice that he had earlier, nor the playful one he had only moments ago. He sounded.. unsettled.

"You're joking right? Mycroft this relationship will have a rocky start if you force me to turn of The Clash at all, let alone bloody 'Death or Glory.'" He tensed again hearing the song's title.

"Please.. it's the one.." Your brain began to piece together his words and you lifted your head from its position on his chest, looking up and seeing the pained expression on his face. Of course, out of every song in the world, this was the one you were listening to when Mycroft said he saw you on the screen, inches away from death. You closed your eyes and sighed.

"I'm not letting this happen. I'm okay, I'm here, alive. This is my happy song, and I have so many wonderful memories from it." It wasn't a lie. The sound held memories of countless car rides with Greg, it was the song that played when you had the phone call about your promotion at work. It had even been playing when your sister phoned up to let you know that she was pregnant with your niece. Both times. It was a bloody good song. "I understand why you don't like it, but you just need to associate it with something better, give it a new memory." You moved your arms from his shoulders to wrap around his neck, shifting one hand to place onto his cheek as you reached yourself up on your tiptoes to become closer to his height.

You caught his focus, making his eyes land on your own rather than being dazed as his mind went back to you dancing on that screen. You leaned yourself in closer, just enough for your lips to ghost over his own, before closing the gap. Unlike the last peck you had given him, this was a far more passionate kiss, giving him the emotion you had kept pent up for the last five years. His grip on your back softened, one hand reaching to your upper back to push you closer to him, his lips moving against yours beautifully. His body began to relax, the tension in his shoulders disappeared as he leant himself forward, easing you back flat on your feet. Had you have not known any better, you would have never guessed that Mycroft had never kissed somebody before; he was just a bloody quick learner. You ran your tongue along his bottom lip softly, grinning as he let out a quiet moan. The need for air soon took over and you allowed yourself to separate, not moving any further than leaving your foreheads touching. "There. Now when we hear it, that's what you need to think of instead. Christ knows I will be." You laughed, your hands guiding themselves from his neck slowly down his chest and pushing him back slightly. "I'm going to go shower, so meet me upstairs? I know I promised more Hardy but I would really like to go to sleep if it's all the same to you." Mycroft only nodded, feeling you peck his lips once more before disappearing out of the room. The song had finished by now, having been replaced by who Mycroft believed were The Rolling Stones, but he wasn't really listening.

He stood still in his spot, mind replaying over the moment as he smiled fondly to himself. He could hear the shower running upstairs along with your voice, muffled but clear enough to understand that you were still singing along to the last song. Placing his fingers against his lips, Mycroft tried to imitate the pressure you had placed on them moments ago, thinking about how your lips felt against his, properly this time, not just the two second thing on the sofa this morning. His chest felt warm, stomach flipping and in a rare moment Mycroft felt genuinely happy. In all his life up to this moment, caring had never been an advantage, had always led to him getting hurt. But maybe, just maybe, you were right about how you were going to prove him wrong one day. And he hoped to whatever sentient being that may or not be watching over him that you were going to prove him wrong about that.

[blackbat05]

I need a break

Shangqi x Reader (Platonic) 

A/N: I feel like I’m loosing steam towards the end of my placement and wow I have never needed a break this badly before. Perhaps a short Shangqi x Reader imagine where they are both University students. Seriously at this rate I’ll just be solely a Shangqi writer HAHAHA. Doing this on my phone because I don’t want to open my work computer. Let’s see where this impromptu idea takes me to. Hope you enjoy it and as always like and comment if you wish!

Genre: PG-13

Warnings: None really, just friends supporting each other! I guess there’s an inaccurate timeline if you look at the MCU but hey this is an imagine plus if you look at some of the wiki pages, Shangqi is actually born in 1998/1999. So appreciate if you’re kind enough to go with the flow to read this comfort fic! 

‘Y/N!’ Shangqi rushes to catch up with you after class. You made an effort to conceal your tiredness but he saw it right through. ‘Gosh…you alright?’

You think to yourself. Were you really alright? The answer was pretty obvious. You were ten weeks into your placement and your emotions were a jumbled up mess. Having to deal with work responsibilities was one problem, school assignments were another issue all together. At this point, you felt like you were just getting through each week for the sake of it.

At first, you believed that what you were going through was simply a transition to becoming an adult. You thought that naturally, you would be able to persevere through the stressful periods by yourself. But of course, it has been hard.

You were a social work intern at a neighborhood youth centre, thirty minutes away if you took the train and bus. The work was fulfilling in it’s own ways, but recently there were self-doubts filling your brain, if you were really cut out for the job in the future. If you weren’t, what else could you do?

As you sat with Shangqi in the school’s student-ran cafe, you found yourself pouring out the exact same concerns to him. Credit to him, Shangqi never interrupted your monologue, he just simply listened. That’s what best friends were for. That’s what you did for him to when he ran into issues with his family.

Even then, he couldn’t deny that hearing you doubt yourself broke his heart. He had known you since high school. You mostly kept to yourself and one or two close friends. Despite joining the school’s athletic team where you were one of the main athletes, you preferred to stay in the shadows unlike some of your teammates. That didn’t stop you from going out of your way to help other students in need; like helping the girl who was in an arm cast to copy the social studies notes, even if it meant you had to do it twice. Or maybe just talking to a friend who was stressed out about their results.

Basically, you had studied your ass off to get a secured spot at this university who were only one of the few that offered the degree. He remembers you telling him the moment you got your offer, ‘I’m finally good at something. I don’t have to worry anymore!’

Shangqi wasn’t stupid. The pandemic had done some crazy things. And by crazy, it affected the self-esteem that you had been working so hard on by participating in various projects and events, with you being in charge of a drama production that was promoting on mental health. That was a big deal considering that you were a major introvert.

Online engagement was never easy. In fact he has heard some of your struggles that you’ve shared with him regarding this and it only makes him admire you even more. For someone who preferred to keep to themselves, stepping out of one’s comfort zone, to take on a role that wasn’t just simply about helping people - that took guts.

‘I’m sorry I’m just loading you with all this. I just feel…’ You trailed off, suddenly becoming emotional again. Again, Shangqi does not pry. ‘That I can’t do anything right.’ You emphasize that you had ended the statement for you were unsure that you could keep your cool if you had tried to continue on.

‘If I hear you saying sorry another time,’ he chides, ‘you’re paying for our meal later.’ Your lips curved upwards slightly before returning to its somber position. Shangqi decides that a meal won’t cut it. He needs to deploy ‘Operation Y/N’. Standing up with your buzzer to collect the food, Shangqi whips out his phone. There will be a few changes for today.

Food was definitely a cure in this situation, but it was only a part of the solution. After inhaling your ramen at light speed, Shangqi tells you that today will be a different Friday. ‘And you can’t complain! It’ll be a weekend tmr,’ he tells you. So why not? You figured that even if you went back home early, your head wouldn’t be in the right place to complete the essay for your English module.

‘Hold up! The VR studio that Katy was talking about?’ You look at the tickets inside the taxi that was taking you and Shangqi to the location. ‘How did you even, it was so hard to get these tickets!’ From the time Shangqi met you outside the classroom, he had yet to see you so ecstatic. Until now.

‘Well,’ Shangqi gives his best shrug. ‘I called in a favor from a friend. Said that it was for emergency purposes.’ He raised his fingers to make connotations in the air much to your amusement.

‘Wow… just how much do I not know about you Mr Popular?’ You teased. Shangqi decides to leave the fact on him having to persuade the Wakandan Princess in giving him free tickets.

‘Please! I swear whatever you want me to do, I’ll do it! It’s for Y/N!’

‘Ey well why didn’t you say so? If it’s for that nice friend, of course!’ Shuri leaves the entrance of the compound, an exasperated Shangqi trailing behind.

Yeah, the VR studio that Katy told them about was also funded by King T’Challa himself. With stunning life like visuals thanks to Wakandan technology, the VR studio was located in a middle class neighborhood. T’Challa believed that no matter where kids came from, they should have the right to enjoy and to explore the world. For now, he wasn’t ready to share that he was on the way on becoming a full-fledged Avenger yet - you just had too much on your plate. He’ll just have to settle with this white lie.

‘Is Katy coming?’ You were on the verge of vibrating off your seat. ‘She would love this place!’ Even when you were struggling, Y/N still manages to think about other people. Today, Y/N will put her needs first.

As if to answer your previous question, you can see an equally excited Katy waiting for the two of you at the roundabout. ‘HEL-LO EVERYONE! LET’S GET OUR FRIDAY STARTED IN PROPER SHALL WE?’ Her loud voice had attracted stares, some very displeased looks too but at this point in time, you didn’t give a damn. Katy was right, it was time to enjoy!

You wished that you could slow down time, or even replay it continuously when you needed cheering up because the only thing you felt was pure happiness - euphoria even. Your stomach was in knots for laughing hysterically together with Katy when Shangqi jumped in shock from a surprise scare from a zombie. ‘I’m keeping that for leverage,’ she tells you, quietly slipping her phone into her fanny pack. 

The Wakandans had really outdone themselves this time. Your favorite VR was the paradise VR. Slipping the headgear, you say goodbye to the smiles of Katy and Shangqi, whisking away to a beach that oddly reminded you of your dream destination - Hawaii. From where you were standing, you were surrounded by green and majestic islands. Despite their sheer size, you weren’t intimidated. In fact, you were healing. 

Your mind was no longer in the room of the VR studio. How could it when the sun kissed your skin, giving you the much needed energy that you were lacking for so long? In the room, the two sees you kick your shoes to the side, going barefoot. It may have seem strange, but with the monitor beside you, your actions were perfectly logical. 

As a kid, you used to despise the prickly feeling of sand in between your toes. But now, you grew to love the sensation that each grain of sand had on your skin. It made you feel grounded, that everything was going to be ok. You raise your virtual hand to touch your face - were you crying? 

‘She must have been really stressed huh?’ Katy whispers to Shangqi who nods in return. How he hated the fact that you were giving so much to your work but still felt underappreciated. Forget the Avengers with superhuman abilities, you were the true MVP. The VR ends and you remove your headgear. ‘I’m ok,’ you automatically reassure them despite the dry tears left on both cheeks. You step down the platform slowly, trying to regain sense of the real world. 

What you didn’t expect was the two embracing you in a hug, squishing you in between them. Maybe that had set off the waterworks. For someone like Katy, she had sage advice.

‘Life can be pretty shitty right? But I’m so proud of you fighting it Y/N. Just remember that it’s ok to be weak. I mean, I’ve seen worse from Shangqi,’ she jabs her finger towards his direction, earning a glare from him. That’s Katy, always trying to add a bit of humor to this grey world. Calming down, you let go of the both of them. ‘Thanks guys, for everything.’ 

‘Hey,’ Shangqi responds, slinging his arm over your shoulder. ‘We’re friends, so we don’t leave each other behind.’ Phone beeping, he retrieves it to check the message. ‘And look at that, nice timing. Who wants Korean BBQ?’ 

Trailing behind them, you get an amusing view of Shangqi bickering with Katy on how many Soju bottles she’s allowed to order later. As San Francisco welcomed the night, you were just thankful that you had the two of them to walk through this crazy maze called life. 

‘Last one to the shop is paying!’ 

‘Oh you’re on Mister!’  

A/N: I really just think that this was also an imagine for me to cope too. So I can only hope to finish my placement/assignments/exams well! To anyone who does studies and work simultaneously, I fucking respect you (allow me to use expletives for now, these people deserve the respect). If you’re going through a stressful time, I hope this brings the slightest comfort for you and remember… YOU ARE NOT ALONE! Again, thank you for reading! 

[gladerwolfstarkimagines]

Imagine being Sokka’s childhood best friend who left to join the war and reuniting with him years later.

You and Sokka were friends before either of you could walk. Children were in short demand in your tribe so when you were born only 6-months apart it was a given you’d be playmates but you and Sokka also became inseparable almost instantly. You both had the same dry sarcastic humour and your personalities worked well together. For the first few years of your life all you were concerned with was staying taller than Sokka and Polarbear dogs but then fire nation attacked and killed Sokka’s mother.

After the brutal attack the remaining tribesman decided to make one final stand against the fire nation and all the eligible men began preparing to leave with one exception...you. You had just turned 11 and so based on past custom weren’t too young to go to war. Of course your tribe didn’t want to take a child but your only family was your father and he was leading the war effort with Hakoda. You had no other family left to watch you and so you managed to talk your father into bringing you along. Sokka tried to do the same but as he was 10 Hakoda said he was too young. Sokka had been furious to say the least. He didn’t see why you’d be allowed and he wouldn’t be, 6 months was hardly anything and his sexist attitude made it sting all the more. He pouted constantly up until the day you left when he suddenly sprinted to the shore at the last minute and hugged you tightly. “I’m still mad at you but if only one of us can go to war....well I’m glad it’s you and not one of the other kids”. You smiled “not quite a heartfelt goodbye but i’ll take it”. “Y/n come on” your father called and you nodded. “I have to go...”. Sokka nodded “of course, kick some fire bender butt for me and erm....don’t die”. You laughed “you too” and with a final smile to Sokka joined your father and the other men to go to war.

That was 5 years ago and you hadn’t seen or heard from Sokka since. You thought about him and home a lot but honestly life at war was very demanding. You were largely sheltered from it by your fellow tribesmen and didn’t actually engage in any combat until you were 14 but still you felt the burden of the impossible victory on your shoulders. Every time you took a step forwards the fire nation seemed to push you back three...but things changed when the avatar came back. It shook the fire nation and surely but slowly you were making gains in the war.

After one successful victory you were in particularly high spirits and woke up early to go and fetch some water for you and your father. As you returned to camp you set the water down in your tent and headed to get breakfast. The camp seemed different you noted, people seemed to be hurrying to the centre excitedly and so you picked up your pace. You suddenly heard a loud cry and worrying you were under attack began to run to camp. A large group had gathered and you looked for the threat but realised everyone seemed happy...not scared. Everyone was focused on a group of men who had come out of the war tent. The group of men themselves were all talking excitedly, focused on one man in particular. You knew every single man in this camp but couldn’t work out who this one was. He was definitely water tribe and young, around your age and looked oddly familiar. He had bright blue eyes and a sharp chin which suited him very well. Everyone seemed to know him and it frustrated you that you couldn’t work out who he was. He was talking to your father and Hakoda warmly and you stared at his face feeling you knew him. Then it clicked, it was Sokka.

Sokka’s POV

Sokka had been nervous to walk into camp but the second he did everyone rushed to hug and welcome him. Sokka felt happier than he had in a long time. He stood next to his father unable to remove the smile from his face when he spotted your father and a thought occurred to him. "Where’s y/n?" Sokka asked when he spotted you feet away. You looked like you’d just arrived here and were staring at Sokka as if you couldn’t work out who he was. Sokka went to call out to you when you smiled. "Sokka?" you asked in disbelief and Sokka blushed. It may’ve taken you a second to recognise him but he’d know your face anywhere. "It’s me y/n" he smiled and your own smile turned into a large grin. You rushed forwards and hugged Sokka tightly. Sokka heard a lot of “awes” from the crowd but he didn’t process them, he was too focused on you. You pulled away and both grinned at one another babbling greetings and questions. Then there was an awkward pause where you both just stared at one another. It had been over 5 years since you’d seen each other and you had both changed a lot since then so it took a lot of effort to process. Sokka was pleasantly surprised to find he was taller than you now. As kids he had steadily caught you up over the years but you left before he could claim his victory. Now he was undeniably taller than you and he couldn’t wait to tease you about that but he noted you’d beat him in other aspects. Your arms were more toned and bigger than his, well defined and taut after the years of training and Sokka could see the same went for all your limbs by the shape of your neck and shoulders. Your hair too was longer and partially braided which Sokka had never seen before. Of course the braids symbolised battles you’d been a part of and Sokka felt proud not envious at how they decorated your face. Your face too was also more defined, your cheeks seemed higher and more angular but your eyes had remained striking and your lips still bright pink. Even the way you held yourself was different, you were a warrior now Sokka realised and that thought made him feel fuzzy.

Your POV

When the silence between you got too awkward Hakoda coughed "y/n, Sokka has travelled here from his journey with the avatar". "What?" you cried in disbelief and Sokka just smiled lazily “yeah...”. "Sokka why don’t you go with y/n to our tent and tell her all about it over breakfast?" your father suggested. Sokka nodded and you led him away to your family tent. You kept staring at him convinced he wasn’t real. Sokka had changed a lot. The height difference was a shock but not the biggest. His face had lost its baby cheeks resulting in chiselled cheekbones and his hair was a lot longer. He was more toned too, not muscley per se but his arms had definition and you struggled not noticing. His eyes were the same though and they were the one thing that made you sure this was your friend. They made you feel at ease as they always did and you just turned to Sokka and laughed “I can’t believe you’re here”. “Me either!” Sokka cried “I...I imagined this day for so long”. “We all missed you a lot” you said worried Sokka was still upset you got to go when he didn’t “and thought about you every day” you added. “You did huh?” he asked with a smirk and you realised Sokka was fine. You did not need to be worried. “I said we, not me” you said pointedly and Sokka grinned “yeah but I know you meant you missed me, you just didn’t want to admit it”. You forgot how well Sokka could see through you and shook your head “okay I guess I missed you...now tell me everything! How on earth did you become friends with the avatar?”.

Throughout Sokka’s story you stared in awe and barely touched your food. Everything Sokka told you sounded insane and you made him promise several times that he was being serious. Sokka animatedly told each part of the story and you couldn’t help smiling at how enthusiastic he was. You’d missed this and him a lot. 

“So you two all caught up?” your father asked suddenly entering the tent and Sokka shook his head “not even close! I was just telling y/n about our fight with the fire nation navy in the northern water tribe”. Your father laughed placing a hand on Sokka’s shoulder “well that will have to wait, y/n has training...maybe you’d like to join her?”. You saw Sokka’s eyes light up at the thought of attending actual warrior training and smiled. “Yes!” he cried leaping up “if erm...you don’t mind of course”. You smirked “it’s been five years since I saw you, do you really think i’m letting you out of my sight?”. Sokka blushed looking down but you didn’t notice. You were already tugging Sokka out of the tent “come on! If we show up first we get the good armour!”.

Sokka’s POV

All-day you sparred and trained in water tribe drills. Sokka was equally exhausted and exhilarated. When his father declared the session over his exhaustion won however and he collapsed on the sand and crawled to the water. He heard a laugh and you appeared next to him “tired huh?”. “No! I could go for hours!”. You raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment. Sokka sipped his water and glanced at you. You were cleaning your sword and the sun reflected off it making your eyes shine. Your eyes had always been darker than the traditional light blue, they were a very dark blue and only when the sun shone on them was their true colour illuminated, like now. Sokka forgot how beautiful they were and looked away before you could notice him staring. “You were really good in training” he said softly and you smiled glancing at him “no sarcasm? Was that a genuine compliment?”. Sokka grinned “yes! You know I can be serious”. “Wow you have changed” you smirked and Sokka blinked “you think?”. You nodded your head “you’re more mature now, you have this sureness about you and an air of confidence like a leader does...it’s nice” you smiled “and then you make a goofy face and you’re back to the 10-year old I remember”. Sokka smiled and leant back on his elbows just enjoying this moment in the sun with you. “You’ve not changed a bit” he told you and you blinked “really?”. He nodded “I saw you earlier trying to work out who I was but I didn’t need two seconds to spot you”. “Well duh i’m the only girl here!” you cried but Sokka shook his head. “That wasn’t it, I’d know your face anywhere. I worried after you left I’d forget it but you’re exactly as I remembered...every detail like I pictured”. You blushed as Sokka spoke so softly but soon regained your bearings, “and you pictured me often?”. Sokka didn’t even blink “of course I did”. Your blush rose again at Sokka’s confidence and you saw he had a small smirk on his face. Sokka went to speak again when an alarm rang out. You both jumped to your feet. “What does that mean?” Sokka asked and you frowned “nothing good, come on” and ran back to the camp. Everyone was gathered around grabbing armour and weapons. “Dad, what’s going on? Are we under attack?” Sokka called. Hakoda nodded “yes, y/n get ready, Sokka.....”.  “Dad I can fight, please let me come with you” Sokka said loudly and you looked at Hakoda to see what he’d say. Hakoda stared at Sokka before he looked directly past him to at you “how would you like to lead your first duo mission Y/n?”. You grinned “I’d love to”. “Great, Sokka stick with y/n and do everything she says, do as she does and you’ll be just fine”. Sokka nodded and rushed to your side. “This is so cool” he whispered and you smirked as you helped him put on his armour. “Don’t get too excited these things can get dangerous quickly, stay with me okay?”. “And you’ll protect me?” Sokka asked batting his eyelashes but his smirk fell away when without a second thought you nodded “of course I will”. Your low voice filled with determination made Sokka blush and look away. “You ready?” you asked and Sokka nodded “ready” and you rushed into battle.

Sokka did exactly what you said and the battle was a success. He was impressed at how much you’d learned and how great a leader you were. You largely kept the fighting away from him by making yourself the bigger target but when Sokka did engage you were always on hand to help push away any fatal blows. Sokka got out of his first battle without so much as a scratch and it was all down to you. When Hakoda declared victory everyone began to cheer and Sokka grabbed you “That was....you were amazing out there y/n!” Sokka grinned and you smiled “it’s nothing...”. “Are you kidding? There were men there twice your age and size but you knocked them aside like they weighed nothing”. “Well what about you?” you asked “you’ve clearly been training a lot since we left, I take back everything I said about your boomerang it’s a great weapon”. “Wow you’re admitting you were wrong? You had changed” Sokka smirked and you smiled.

As this was the first battle Sokka has successfully fought in he was due his first-ever warrior braid. Hakoda explained it wasn’t a large ceremony, he basically just went into a tent without a braid and came out with one but still Sokka was nervous. Of course he’d practised them lots, all water tribe children did for the day they’d get to add one to their hair but now the day was finally here....he was very anxious.

Your POV

You waited with all the other men for Sokka outside the tent. It was taking a while and you wondered what was taking Sokka so long. “I’ll just check he’s okay” you told your fathers and walked through the flap of the tent. Sokka was fiddling with her hair muttering to himself angrily. He didn’t seem to like the type of plait he was making and would shake it out each time with an irritated mutter. “Sokka?” you asked and he jumped. “I can’t get it right!” he cried “I’ve been dreaming of this day since we were five but I can’t make it work. Sokka tried again seizing his hair tightly and you noticed his hands were shaking. You came to stand behind Sokka and pushed his hands away softly “let me”. You grabbed Sokka’s hair carefully and began to braid it into the traditional warrior plait pattern. Sokka watched and saw the concentration on your face as you twisted his hair effortlessly into a pattern. “There” you said softly tying a small band around it “your first warrior plait, is it okay?”. You held up a mirror and Sokka grinned at his reflection, he was finally a warrior! “I love it!” he cried “thank you y/n” and hugged you. You laughed and hugged Sokka back, “no problem, now come on let's show it off”. You and Sokka walked outside and Hakoda grinned. “My son is officially one of us” he cried and everyone broke out into cheers. 

Sokka’s POV

Everyone crowded around to congratulate him and Sokka’s cheeks hurt from smiling so much. The celebrations were well underway and all the men were keen for Sokka to join them but after a courteous sweep of them Sokka found his way back to you.

You were sat on the outskirts of the camp staring out at the ocean. “Not one for festivities?” Sokka asked sinking beside you and you shrugged “I don’t mind them...but peace and quiet are just as appealing” you smiled “that’s hard to get with a camp full of men”. As if to prove your point a loud water tribe chant broke out and you both laughed. “Well let's go for a walk then” Sokka said jumping up and you followed him. You and Sokka walked towards the ocean and you asked him to carry on his story. He talked rapidly about the attack of the northern water tribe. You listened and just let Sokka’s words sweep over you. You were mainly just watching him amused at how many expression he could pull at once and had to look away to stop yourself from chuckling. When Sokka finished his tale and took a breath you smiled “wow that sounds...unreal!”. Sokka nodded “it was, a lot of things on my travel have been like that, from moon spirits to banished princes, i’ve seen it all!”. “You’re quite the explorer aren’t you” you commented and Sokka nodded “yep, and you’re quite the warrior, we’re certainly doing our tribe proud”. “That we are” you nodded and silence fell. You were sat close together and an idea suddenly struck him. What would you do if he placed his arm around you? He wasn’t sure what made him think that, you and he had always just been friends but now...Sokka wasn’t too sure why that was. Out of everyone in camp you were the person he’s been most excited to see and that didn’t feel just like friendship to him. Without really thinking, caught up in the moment, Sokka went to move his arm when you noticed his movement and glanced down at his arm. Sokka blushed and pretended he was scratching it. “Are you okay?” you asked and Sokka nodded “yep just my arm fell asleep”. “Ow that makes sense, you know for a second there I thought you were going to put it around me...”. Silence settled and you realised Sokka had been planning on doing that. Sokka was blushing vividly and you blinked unsure what to do or say. “Sokka i...” you started when you heard loud gasps from camp and both looked up to see Appa. Sokka frowned confused, Aang wasn’t due back for another three days but here he was. Aang soon dismounted and appeared in front of you both “Sokka! Good you’re still here...”. “Yeah we just got back a few hours ago” Sokka explained "Aang this is y/n my friend from the southern water tribe and y/n this is Aang the avatar". "Wow" you said wide-eyed "it’s amazing to meet you". Aang smiled but it was a tense smile "Sokka we have to go" he cried. Aang explained Katara was in danger and worry ran across Sokka’s face. “We have to leave now” Aang said and Sokka nodded “sure just give me two minutes”. Sokka spun around and you were surprised to see he looked nervous. The tension from earlier had gone, this was more serious. "Y/n i’m sorry but i have to go..." he started to explain nervously when you cut him off. "Of course you do" you cried "Katara needs you!". Sokka smiled sadly "i know but it’s been so nice to see you again after all this time, so I was thinking...would you want to come with me?". You were utterly taken back "go with you?". "Yeah, you could travel with us? It’s dangerous and we get attacked a lot but i bet a warrior like you can handle it". You paused "Sokka i’d really like to but i made an oath to our elders to fight in this war...i don’t think i can change it and come with you no matter how much i want to". Sokka’s smile slipped but he nodded his head "it’s okay i figured as much but thought it was worth a shot". You nodded and touched his arm "are you planning on coming back soon?". Sokka bit his lip "i don’t know and we really have to go...i’ll try okay, i really will so hopefully i’ll see you soon". You nodded believing him but also studied his face again in case you didn't see him for another 5 years. "I’ll come back I promise y/n" Sokka told you and you smiled hugging him "i believe you". Sokka melted into you when Aang’s noises of impatience made him pull away. "Until then keep up the good work" Sokka smiled saluting you. You saluted him back as he walked away and flew off on the air bison with the avatar. 

Sokka made Aang tell him absolutely everything and then they sat in silence waiting to arrive back in Ba Sing Sei. Fear filled Sokka’s mind but as scared as he was, you kept coming back into his mind. He wondered what you had been about to say before Appa arrived and wondered if you could possibly, maybe like him too. The fact he liked you was a new sensation for Sokka but he realised he had just been oblivious before and it had always been there. You had always been the one he came to, the one he liked being around the most, the one he cared about more than himself or anything. He’d always liked you he just hadn’t realised it. “Your hair looks nice” Aang said suddenly “the plait suits you”. Sokka touched it absentmindedly and smiled “my friend y/n did it for me”. “The girl you were with?”. Sokka nodded “yeah she’s my best friend”. Aang smiled “I bet it was nice to see her”. Sokka nodded “it really was” and blushed, he’d find a way to see you again and he’d been damned if he had to wait another five years.