#call peter get peter on the phone. get that fuckin guy who did all their sound. get kelley get chris get dave porter. im no longer asking

[macbethheadband]

mash is allowed to have shitty sets and continuity errors because it was made with enough love to still be sending echoes through time to us 50 years later. Im talking big budget modern tv shows they have no excuse. Either youre better call saul or youre not trying hard enough

[carpenoctemnyx]

Every single little moment in NPMD in order that just scratches my brain in the best way. I mean tbh the whole show does, but these moments are what the tism is grasping onto.

(WARNING: Its a LOT of moments, so theyre all under the cut since the post is so fuckin long)

"And I can survive it for only so long"(all of them)

The "im so fucking dead" from the ensemble during steph and pete's convo

"'CHEATER!!' 'OH GOD BUTT OUT CHASITY!!'"

"My melody! My melody! My melody"

"AWOOO! AWOOO! RAWR!"

"Grace just be cool! NEVER!"

"Im so fucking dead! YEAH!!"

"No! I wanna be invisible! Then why do you come to a public school dressed in suspenders and a fuckin bow tie?"

"Sycamore? I'd rather starve to death."

"Oh my god!! YOU'RE Micro-Peter! Oh, god."

"This outfit it the tapestry of my trauma!"

"Anyone every do this? *snap* Every damn day. My titties are tenderized!"

"It's polish."

"Spankoffski! Who are you running from? Ehh."

"He's straight ahead!"

"You wont defeat his kind. Never look in the eye. He's a literal monster!"

"Everyone knows how he BANGS!"

"He roars, and we cry, hes the reason with no why. He's a literal monster! A damn literal monster!"

"It's 3rd period, Shit-lips. I gotta get to remedial algebra."

"I never intended to walk through your hallway. Ohhh well theres a difference between intent and impact."

"FUCKNUGGET!!"

"Haha YEAH! NO dumbass!"

"Ohhh sorry! Fresh out of your favorite food! I guess im just gonna have to flick it!"

"Ohhhh a two bagger? Hahahaha! Whats a two bagger?"

"Oh!! That's so sick bro! Thats so fuckin funny! PYAHHH *punch sound*"

"Get him up!! Get this fucker up!!"

"Now deposit this trash in the nearest receptacle."

"Haha haha hahaha! Spunk! You're funny."

"*appalled* carry my books!?"

"Chasity, come on! You're breakin my balls."

"You dont know me very well, do you??"

"Watch some p0rn! You'll see! Tell me im wrong dirty girl. Dont call me that!"

"My little dirty girl *that one audience member OHHH*"

"And his name is Jesus Christ!"

"Forbidden fruit, dick hole!"

"You can leave, but you wont, stay in your seat!"

max's lil dance when hes singing "better leave your hopes behind no ones gonna stop me" that leads into that lil airplane arms move

also including the dance move with kyle "you wont defeat his kind, never look in the eye"

"You can watch as i rise! I will claim what is mine!"

"Learn to multi-task!"

"Well, well. If its not my october surprise."

"Stephanie, please, I'd like to have an intelligent conversation with you. In other words, shut up."

"Hooow ominous"

"Hey that looks like my... phone. It is."

"Please daddy?"

"NOO!! *dives forward and shoves hand in the way* Did you just put your hand BETWEEN the hammer and the phone??? ...yeah..."

How... am i supposed to study withOUT LISTENING TO SPOTIFY!?!? DO YOU EVEN KNOW WHAT YOU'RE DOING?? YOU'RE KILLING ME WITH WHAT YOU'RE DOING!!! If only, Stephanie. If only."

"This project's on thermo-dynamics. What the fuck are you talking about?"

"God! I just want someone to touch me! Anyone, PLEASE! Jesus! Calm down Ruth."

"Somebody walks to the office with Stephanie LauTer and suddenly he's Stefan Urquelle."

The way Richie Says peTe and uuusing you

"What was it like when she touched your arm? DID YOU CUM??? Ruth! Quit it!"

The way Richie says peTeR

"I'll never hold the real Rei and Asuka in my arms"

The way Pete says "Sorry!" To Ruth when his phone is ringing

The way Richie says TelemArkeTer

"NANI!?!?" *Ruth and Richie creeping towards Pete*

"What is she saying? What the FUCK is she saying!?"

"Oh my god!! Oh my god!! What's the matter with you guys!?"

"WEEOO WEEOO!!"

"I'm actually the smart one in the group, if you can believe that."

"Really Ruth? A star wars analogy? Need i go into why Attack On Titan is superior in EVERY possible way!?"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!! Excuse me? Uh, not you. Just these two FUCKING nerds that wont leave me alone."

"They dont call it a cram session for nothing! Watch some p0rn! You'll see!"

"You're telling me I gotta be funny, AGAIN? I didnt do it on purpose the FIRST time!"

The way Richie says opportunity. It sounds like opportudidy

"Thats your perspective"

"Oh whoa whoa oh"

Then again im deranged"

"What if people see me as someone other than who I am"

"If i can finally be cool i will know that im not a loser!"

"I'm the ruler!"

"OHHHH! *crowd cheers* SHUT UP!"

"EUGH!! So you're a POOR piece of shit then?"

"Well im sick of your sh-sh-shit"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP JASON!!"

"I dont give a fuck what she said! I did not consent to this rendez-voos!"

"I decide if Kyle can date Brenda. *turns to Jason* The answer's still no... by the way!"

"I willed it into existence"

"Im your God. Now on your knees, bitch. It's time to say your fuckin prayers! *cuts to the Chasitys* Amen!"

"Mmm, that house. What's wrong with it? Its haunted. Everyone says so."

"DAD GROSS!!"

"Mom will you pass the butt stuff? The butter. Butter. Will you pass the butter? Eheh I just want some head and butter. BREAD! BREAD! Bread and butt sex to go with this big shaft of meat im gonna choke down. Ohhhh boy. Oh criminy!"

"And theyre flyin reaaal low today"

"Some big, dumb, sexy, sweaty, hooot, football star"

The way Grace says "Hello??" When fantasy Max is calling her name

"Im hungry, and here you are brewing up a big ol' pot of dirty girl soup *siffs aggressively* ahhhh! My favorite!"

"You call my bath water dirty girl soup? This is wrong! This is sooo wrong"

"I know!" *max rips off his jacket and the crowd screams*

"I love... to FUCK!"

The entirety of Dirty Girl Soup song but extra extra emphasis on certain parts

"Hey boo, daddy needs a little of that dirty soup"

"You're lookin all filthy like, you know its wrong i know its right"

"I'll never ever tell ya to behave i am expecting you to be-betray me"

"Ima love you all night long" including Max's lil hip thing

"Oh! Dirty dirty girl wont you sing for me wont you love me like you dont care. (all of these esp the ones with Grace)

"Hey brute"

"Its clear you never stepped in a classroom" including Grace's lil dance move here

The way Grace says School

"For shame. I am expecting you to be-behave" including Grace's lil dance move here too

"On your knees pray along, if you wanna last until dawn"

And then the dirty dirty girl section including the dance

"RAH-AHH" *hand wave thing* and the second one of this too

"Got me hungry for more. Hungry for more."

"Im a im a im a good girl x4 WHO ON OCCASSION GETS DIRTY!!"

Again cue the dirty dirty girl bit + dance

Grace's lil shaky moan thing after "poisons the air"

"Damn these wandering hands! Damn these sinful loins!"

"This is a no-moan household!"

".....I'll get the plunger...."

"Girl! That must be so embarrassing for you."

"Standing up the mayor's daughter like he's got no fucks to give? Not gonna lie. Thats really sexy."

"Oh my god! The fucking bowtie kid??"

"Hey uh... dweeb! *both Richie and Ruth respond* yeah?"

"Oh shes touching meee! Luckyyyy!"

"Its better than i even imagined" *cute lil twirl*

"And what, pray tell, may that be, Stephanie?"

"God, you suck, Grace."

"Isn't this like breaking and entering? Im not breaking anything. My dad's the realtor!" *jingles keys*

"Hacked em to bloody bits!"

"PottyPants? How about PissyPants? Im not comfortable with the plan if it involves that kind of language."

"Im not comfortable with this place. Its not structurally sound."

"Don't bully me!"

The whole Bully the Bully song but extra extra emphasis on specific parts

Grace's lil snap and spin moment

"Petey gonna jump on out" *Pete's lil move here*

Ruth saying "we're gonna cut off his nips!" And then Richie's lil shimmy move

"Ahhhhahhhh"

"Richie the whole point is that its in the dark! Well then im gonna have to shoot the whole thing in a wide, and its gonna look like shit!"

"No! We're gonna be cool beans. We're gonna keep the beans cool. We're gonna gonna keep the beans, beans the cool, keep the beans, the cool, keep the beans, bean school. Beans school? Excellent!"

"I still wanna talk.... Hello...? Hello....? Hello? Who was that? My boyfriend! Sounded like a telemarketer. Okay, my EX boyfriend."

"You're the best friend ive ever had. Oh thats sad. I think im in love with you. Okay..." *walks away*

"Am i reading as ghost, or Lin Manuel Miranda?"

"You kinda look like that homeless guy from downtown. Ohhh. But that could still work, he gets pretty scary sometimes."

Ruth's lil butt wiggle

"I mean you could just hit it and quit it, bro! Yeah... I dont want to though... You're fuckin useless pete!"

When Max walks up and burps and says "i gott piss" and this does a cute lil bouncy move

"Oh shiiiit. Wheres that creepy music comin from?"

"do it alfuckinready"

"Who's there? Maaaaax Jagermannn. WHAT!?"

"Oh shit! Oh fuck! Its a fuckin ghost!"

"Its time to stop running!" *chugs bear and smashes the can on his head and yeets it, then puts up his fists* "float over here ghost,* starts punching the air* im gonna kick your fucking ass!"

"Uhhh you cant fight me im an etheral being soooo... we'll see about that. Ima make you say boo-hoo, bitch! *charges at pete and pete runs away screaming* YESSSS I MAKE THE DEAD RUN IN FEAR!!! I AM JAGERMAAAAAN!!! I AM GOOOOD!!!! GOOO NIGHTHAWKS!!!"

*skele-ruth runs ins and does her lil scream thingy* "oh shit! Oh fuck! I didnt think there'd be a skele'en here! Im so fucking scared of skele'ens! Maybe i should just run! Where, Max?? Back home so Dad can call you a little cuck?? Can't even fight off one lousy skele'en?? No! I got not choice! Hey, Skele'en! I got a bone to pick with you, bitch!"

"It's working for me! He's sooo violent!"

Ruth's lil yelp after steph tells max to stop

"Steph we cant have a party here! This place is hella haunted!"

"It's all a prank. A trick to scare the shit out of you cuz you deserve it. What??? You're telling me you nerds put this whole thing together just for me? Wow. I though you guys hated me. But thanks. This was really great. You're not pissed? Oh! Are you kidding?? Nonono this is like THE nicest thing anyone's ever done for me."

"Ohhhh! And the skele'en. Oh. That was really special" *Max bows to Ruth*

"Look what you fuckin nerds made me do! I pissed my fucking pants! ....mission accomplished???" *Pete signaling to cut it out and Ruth and Grace behind him like wtf Richie*

"This wasnt murder! And it wasnt an accident! It was an act of God!"

"Oh yeah! Like thats gonna hold up in court! He was smote!"

Grace's snap and spin again and Richie groaning "oh nooo shes snapping again!!"

"We're gonna hack all his limbs off! Did you say hack all his limbs off?? Yeah! We're gonna hack all his limbs off!"

"You want me to films this!?!?!?!"

"Aaahhhahhhh"

"Thank god Max is gone. Wasnt he your friends?? YEAAAAHHHH but he forbade me from dating, AND he wrecked my dad's Ski-Doo. FUCK that guy."

"Good news! You passed the test?? With flying colors! Oh-ho! Aaaaaa C+"

"Ya know, this is really your C+. Oh... Steph... you can keep it. It'd really bring down my GPA."

"No, Jagerman doesnt let nerds go to footba-... huh... you know maybe i will."

"Go, go Nighthawks! We'll take the fight unto the victors go the spoils! Go, go Nighthawks! We're taking flight we are the leaders and the royals! AHH-AHH!" Including the lil bird wing flappy thing

"N! I-G! H-T! AHH-AHH! KS!"

And the dudes in the background goin "Night! Hawks! Night! Hawks! Fly!"

"Fuuuck you Clivesdale go get fucked! You're fuckin losers, and we'll kill you! Kill your ass!"

They're my bros for life!"

Richie struggling to take off the mascot costume

"Ohhh. I remember what /I/ said. Do you? You FUCKIN NERD?"

"That aint good news for you, ya bitch"

"You shouldve joined the smoke club, you nerdy prude! NERDY PRUDES MUST DIE! *cue Jon bein fuckin goated at imitating a levitation* Nerdy prudes must diiiie!"

"I want you to repeat after me. Okay... Who will pray for me? Who will pray for me? When im gone? When im gone? Until another Richie, comes along. Can you repeat that one? WHO WILL PRAY FOR MEEE WHEN IM GONNNE OR IS THIIIIS THE ETERNAL DARK WITHOUT A DAWN! Who will pray for you? Who will pray for me? When your body's gone? When my body's gone? This is the consequence for what you've done! I'M NOT A LOSER! WHAT DID YOU SAY!?! ᵈᵒⁿᵗ ᵏᶦˡˡ ᵐᵉ. Im not a nerdy prude. Im not a loser! Of course nooot, Richiiie."

“He wasn’t sexy at all… MAMA IM CURED!!!”

“Shoot n shinola!”

“Mornin Daaaaadddy!”

“You don’t say? You don’t say! Welllll I’ll be down there in a jiffy! What did they find dad? They didn’t say!”

“Gosh! I hope it’s not termites! Haha”

“Ohhhh heck. I’m so heckin fudged!”

When the gang is getting called to the principals office and Pete just says “oh no” in like a monotone-y way

“Dont look at me! Get your hands out of your pockets! ….sorry sir….”

The reluctant “go nighthawks”

“Shut the fuck up Ruth!”

“We lost to CLIVESDALE!! FUCKIN *kicks chair* CLIVESDALE!!!”

“Yeahhh… thanks for NOTHIN!!!”

“Yes Ruth! We are fucked!”

“People tell me to die everyday!”

“Someone spilled the beans! All our cool beans!”

Again Ruth’s “Don’t bully me!!”

Pete’s lil “no” when Grace accuses him

“I’m gonna get those pigs off our backs!”

“Shock! Despair! Tragedy!"

“I’ve never known darker times, and I covered the protest live at the Hatchetfield Kennel! I am Dan Reynolds! With action news, week days at 10pm.”

And down down down down, who’s swinging the hatchet now in hatchet town! Someone’s got their hands on the hatchet handle. Swingin on the youth it’s a hatchet scandal. Careful or your folks will end up a cannibals plate. It ain’t great! You’re better on the run than you are hiding, suddenly this quiet town’s exciting.”

“I heard that their brains were soup, their intestines cut in two. So it’s gotta be Donna! What??? Yeah it’s gotta be Donna! DAAAAN!?!?!”

“I certainly don’t LOVE killing”

“Barry’s on the loose and he’s got a gun, and he’s got a motive to kill. IM IN A HURRY!!!”

“Get your hands off me!!!”

“Careful or your kids will end up on Charlie’s plate. Excuse me?? He just ate! How dare you!”

“Singing all these songs gives him greater windows to kill, but we’re singing still!!”

And now THIS PART. The ENTIRETY OF BRYCE CHARLES’ SOLO. It’s fucking transcendent!!!

“Until GERALD! went on his murder spreeeee! I KNEW IT WAS GERALD!! Linda, call my lawyer. Let’s kill him!!”

“Can I shit or will I drown??”

“Ohhhh barbecue monologues, eh? I saw that in New York. Really? How was it? Fuckin ✨transcendent✨”

Joey's whole monologue thing here but extra emphasis on “Every Kah-bob”

“I wanna remember who I am….”

Trevor’s “My barbecue!”

*ruth throws hands up* “I guess!”

“Betcha I could do it! Betcha I could!”

“in my dream, it’s MY barbecue!” *ruth’s little arm wave thing*

“How can something be medium AND well?”

“All of the trappings of the well to-do!”

“And life is fine, if only it were mine.”

“Judge me!”

“And the world’s a stage, when you’re middle of age.”

“It’s well done on the outside, not within! OOOH!”

“Oh ohhh just for once! Just for once! Just for oooooonce!”

Ruth’s cute lil tap dance move

“I used to dance. I used to dance”

“Oh nooo my anxiety *gags* I’m gonna hurl!”

“I believe your next line is AAAAHHHH”

“Project Ruth! They can’t hear you in the back row! Ow, my butt! You’re splitting me in two!”

Max slowly putting the “underwear” over Ruth’s head and then petting her

“Take a bow, bitch!”

The theater director’s dramatic screaming

“No nonono! You can’t do this to me okay?? This isn’t my fault! This isn’t my plan! Woah woah woah who’s place was it Grace? IT WAS GODS PLAN!! And now he’s leaving me out to dry! DO SOMETHING YOU SON OF A BITCH!!”

“Don’t! FOLLOW ME!”

“And he gives me his numberrrr! Very smooth!”

“EXCUSE ME! *audience screaming* I have been waiting for what feels like five fucking years and I STILL have not received my goddamn hot chocolate! Sorryy sir *deadpans fake spitting* here you go. …thank you….”

“MY dad sells women’s shoes!”

“Don’t spin this back on meee”

“Because you’re crazy about me. …..WHAT!?”

“On the first date, Steph? Have some respect for yourself!”

“If I loved you, you would know it. If I loved you, I would show it. If I love you like you should be loved. If I loved you like I’m capable of. If you were the one I’m thinking of, woah ohhh, oh babe I’d let you know”

“Wake me up when you turn eighteeeeen”

“LEAVE ROOM FOR JESUS!” *shove*

“Did they buy it? Ha!”

“Gimme a cup of hot water, and make it strong!”

“Does your phone plan cover calls to hell?”

“She’s bisexual and dead! Where else would she be??”

*whips out gun* “JUST COOL YOUR BEANS, STEPH! Just cool em right the heck down!”

“Shut the front door, spankoffski!”

“SIR! DOOOO NOT APPROACH ME! GET YOU HANDS OUTTA YOUR POCKETS! PUT YOUR HANDS DOWN! HE’S GOING FOR A GUN!! *runs at paul*”

Pete’s “HOLY SHIT!!” When officer bailey rushes at Paul

“STOP RESISTING! STOP RESISTING!” *cue Emma screaming*

“You ruined our lives Grace!! I knowwww *sobbing* I just haven’t been thinking clearly lately. All I wanted was to be a regular girl, with no sexual desire, until she was safely married. I never asked for this tickle in my mommy spot. I’ve done so many terrible things, like touching myself and lying to the police. …..and dismembering a body….. well… we all did that, so…. But I called god a son of a b-word. Who am I!?!? *more sobbing* ohh.. it’s alright Grace. Don’t comfort her. She’s fuckin weird.”

“Stephanie, please. I’ve been bugging your phone since you were 12.”

“I don’t give a shit who you kill, but you just HAD to go and do it in that house, didn’t you?”

“A book??”

“You mean… satan? Oh no… they’re much worse.”

“K-yuck, k-yuck, k-fuck!”

*head gets thrown on stage* *collective screams* “Damn you miss tessburger! You were worthless!”

“Nerdy Prudes must die. That’s not me! I’m an elected official!”

“I can buy you beer!”

“I hate politics! It’s for NERDS!”

“Pete get behind me! I’ve got a gun! Steph, it’s a ghost… I don’t think that’s gonna do any good…. On the ground, bitch! I’m a cop!”

“Heck! Heck no!”

“Are you a woman of faith? Catholic. I’ll take that as a no.”

“He’s right there! WHAT THE FUCK!?”

“Pete, is she okay? Can you feel a pulse? I have no idea what I’m doing.”

The entirety of the summoning scene. It’s my favoritest part of the whole show.

Extra extra emphasis on “we don’t give a shit about your phone!”

Max’s slow mo run beat boxing to stop the bullet

“So you do know the Bible”

Grace taking her hair down and shaking it out

“Grace what are you doing?? SHUT YOUR FUCKING FART HOLE SPANKOFFSKI!! I wanna hear this! As you were saying Grace….”

“Brewin a pot of dirty girl soup, just for you! What?? Uhh, It’s what you call my bath water in my sexual fantasies. *GASP* that’s nastyyy….. I like it.”

“What… the fuck… is happening right now!?!?”

“GRRRR! I’ll be right back!”

The background dialogue of Grace and Max and then Peter saying “holy cow they’re doin it! Grace is having sex with a fucking ghost!”

Grace sauntering out and smoking a cigarette and saying “wooow I needed that” and then max being baby girl and swinging his legs in the air and saying “where you goin? Don’t you wanna cuddle a little bit?”

“I paid the price, now fuck off” *Grace twirl*

“Nonooooooowwwhatever! It was fuckin worth it!”

“What the fuck you just say to me!?!?”

“Mom said it would help me make friends. Boy was she wrong.”

“Liek eye dew”

“That was… absolutely disgusting!!”

Graces evil laugh “the souls of the pervs make me strong” more evil laughter

“DIRTY DUDES MUST DIE! DIRTY DUDES MUST DIIIIEEE!!”

“RUN YOU LITTLE BITCH”

“Darkness will spare my soul”

“Run dudes. RUN”

[ofpineapplesanddawns]

You guys want a quick one-shot for that vampire Peter and Martin au I’ve got going on here that might be based on a really dumb idea?

No?

You’re getting it anyway.

Warning: blood, mentions of gross skin treatments 

On with the fic!

--

Martin looked into the fridge and made a face, pulling out a container of congealed blood, giving it a shake, hearing the contents making a wet slapping sound. “How in the world do you even get this stuff without anyone questioning you?”

Peter looked up from the extra-large travel mug that he was currently drinking a hot coffee/blood combo from, his phone momentarily forgotten in his hand. “Huh?”

“This.” Martin shook the container again. “How are you able to purchase all this animal blood without anyone asking questions? I mean, human blood might be more alarming, but you have at least...” He looked back into the fridge. “No, no, counting the one in my hand and the one you didn’t finish on the counter, you have eleven containers in here.”

Peter sniffed. “I’ve got the money.”

“That’s not the problem here.”

“You can pay people off well enough to not ask questions.”

“True, but what if anyone does question? Hm? Have an answer for it then?”

The vampire gave him a look before taking a long drink from the mug. “Alright, so, it has been asked before, and you wanna know how easy it is to brush off concerns?”

“How easy?” Martin asked.

“Stupidly easy!” He threw his hands up in the air. “Like, you wanna know what I’ve told people? ‘I need animal blood because I’m doing the vampire treatment.”

Martin blinked slowly, looking concerned. “The... Peter, you are a vampire.”

“Like I need a reminder.” Peter snorted and took another drink. “So, okay, I know you’ve been locked up for two decades, but in that time, beauty regiments have becoming so fucking ridiculous, more so than what you probably had to deal with in the 90s. There’s this weird thing where people thing that body fluids can make you look younger or help cure you.”

“That’s... body fluids?”

“Blood, urine, semen, all that funny, happy, horse shit.” Peter said so casually. 

“That’s pseudo-science.” Martin spoke, clearly offended. 

“Yep.” Peter shrugged. “And people love that shit! It’s trendy, it’s the new thing! Like essential oils! But yeah, there’s this thing called the vampire skin treatment, and it involves blood and lotions. Lots of rich idiots are doing it.”

“And you are having people believe you’re a rich idiot who fell for this insanity?” Martin asked as he put the blood away, frowning. “And to think I’m the one who was locked up for twenty-odd years just because I was doing a little off-the-clock anatomy studying.”

Peter gave him a deadpanned look. “You were killing people.”

“I like what I call it better.” 

“Anyway!” Peter rolled his eyes. “Yeah, easy enough to fool people that I’m going all Elizabeth Bathory to keep myself young and beautiful. Granted, blood letting sorta led me to remaining somewhat young and always beautiful, but I didn’t need a fuckin’ vampire to bite me for that last part.” He smirked. 

Martin raised an eyebrow. “Right. Have you every actually tried to bathe in blood?”

“No, too gross, too Evil Dead remake for me. I did try a milk bath once, hated it, it felt weird and was too expensive to do often anyway.” Peter huffed and grabbed for his phone. “But yeah, people just believe the vampire skin treatment thing if they ask why I’ve paid for a few containers of pig’s blood. There is a literally delicious irony to it.”

“I’m sure there is.” Martin spoke before grabbing for something in the fridge that he’d actually want to drink, very much not the blood, no, not that. 

--

I have a personal beef with pseudo-science people over many things, but one of the biggest is the bodily fluid treatments. Ew. EW.

At least it works as a believable excuse for Peter to have blood in his fridge.

[darke15]

Rhymieeee 🖤😌 @rhymingtree

I watched Homecoming again for this so I came prepared.

Yesssssssss!!!

Yay more Ollie panic. I love it.

No but he's genuinely panicking omg

He’s got a lot going on right now. Including deciding whose side he needs to be on to survive Ghost and her escapades…

The fact that he never broke down in the middle of all his time with Alpha One or had a heart attack with all the stress... astounds me.

I’m sure there was some behind the scenes rants to Rook and his other Hydra friends. Like one of those teenagers from 80s movies who are sitting on their beds with corded phones ranting and gossiping with each other. 

Ned is the best part of this whole chapter. period. it's the truth and the only truth

Ned was a bunch of fun to write 

...what if peter does lay eggs tho that would be a fun visual

Nooooooo it wouldn’t…where would it come out of Rhymie? WHERE WOULD IT COME OUT???

Ghost's favorite travel activity is killing Nazis

Still waiting for her travel guide to drop with her packing essentials.

what if she recorded all of it like some kind of travel vlogger and edited a Killing Nazis montage with some lofi music in the background and like a sepia filter with a few added clips of like... European city skylines

Pfffffffftttt 😂😂😂

SHE REACHED POLAND???!!

She’s on a mission

SHE DISSOCIATED SO MUCH THAT SHE REACHED ANOTHER FUCKING COUNTRY???

She’s not all there anymore

.....if this is what she's like travelling it's best not to be her travel buddy

Really quiet car tho

NO NOT THE AMBUSH FLASHBACK DARKE

Don’t tell me what to do 

“Why do all the fucked up parts of my life start with an ambush?”

Maybe it's got something to do with your line of work, the people you associate with, all your life choices, the fact that you dissociate a lot while driving... honestly I could probably go on forever

😂😂😂

You’re in a city. We don’t need a repeat of Paris. Oh, killjoy. Just pull the pin. Do it. There could be civilians nearby— Just do it.

never go travelling without a moral compass

I’m really serious about this travel guide thing 

I love Ned's curiosity and support

He’s so silly, i love him

“Your girlfriend’s back in town, huh—”

heheheehe yes she iiiis

yahhhhhhhhhhssssss

“Who’s saying I don’t have her wrapped around mine?”

Boone Cavanaugh wrapped around a man's finger?? Never in a million years.

Not again…never again

“Act mad we lost Barnes and Walsh.” “You what?” Steve snapped, turning to him with a glare, “You what? Barton, are you fuckin’ kidding me?”

This shouldn't have made me laugh as hard as it did

It made me giggle because i can see Steve’s face just drop on a dime

“Do Avengers have to pay taxes?”

.... actually do they? Or are they excempt from it because... they're technically government property.. or is Tony Stark the bajillionaire a tax evader?

Depends if they’re getting paid or nah, i think.

 “He’s cool. So was his girlfriend.” “Captain America has a girlfriend?” “Had.”

😐 darke

Wot? As far as peter knows Captain America isn’t lying and his girlfriend was killd by hydra

I wonder how Zac would feel if his job was described as being 'the guy in the chair'

He’d begrudgingly accept it. 

He keeps those little shits alive out there and he just gets 'guy in the chair' ouch

Nahhhhh they take care of him. They always make sure to take him out on the town after he saves their skins again

LIZ OMG LIZ

LIIIIIIZ

I’mma be completely honest i totally forgot about her until i was looking at Homecoming’s transcript

NO NOT ANOTHER ALPHA TWO AMBUSH FLASHBACK

Why not 😏it’s fun 

Darke how dare you

I thought it was good 

He’d just been able to get used to the sights and sounds and smells of Wakanda but New York City was an entirely different animal.

did he just call New York stinky?

Probably 

how come you're doing everything in your power to make me cry with this flashback after Jack just called New York stinky

Cuz he’s having feelings and you need to feel them too 

Even if he didn’t want to remember any of it. He did. He remembered all of it. All of it.

darke 😐

wHAT?

AND BOONE DYED HER HAIR BLUE WOOOOOAAAAH

yayyyyyyy

“You know what I mean,” Duke whispered, “I don’t wanna lose you. Jack, I can’t lose you.” “You won’t.” He shook his head quickly, his smile fading in an instant, “I’m not going anywhere.”

I am terrified for these two.

😀😀😀

Like the way they love each other and the things that have happened pretty much spell out the words doomed by the narrative and I am bracing myself for that doom

😀😀😀

Also I felt so bad for Ned during this whole thing he just waited for Peter the whole time

Same he looked so dejected and sad

MJ IS HEEEEERE MY QUEEEEN

Mj is so much fun 

MONTANA AND NEW YORK... REUNITED

😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏 AND HE'S ANGRY TOO SO...

😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏

Angry, make up 🌶 is a damn good time

“I’m not happy with you, woman,” he hissed under his breath.

hot 😀

He’ll take it out on her later…🌶🌶🌶

“She says that he’s looking for weapons,” Boone said, perching on the edge of a three-legged table, “As far as we can tell, it’s gotta be someone stateside.”

Well, well, well.... who could that possibly be…

Hmmmm i dunno…who could it be 

who could possibly be supplying Walsh with plenty of highly lethal weapons in the States... in New York... where he is... hmmmmmmm

hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

it's the vulture it's definitely the vulture but dont tell them yet it's no fun if they know too soon

hhhhhhhhhhmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm

WHY DO YOU KEEP DOING FLASHBACKS TO THE AMBUSH WHYYYY

Because it’s fun for me to watch you suffer

“That’s it. We’re out of time. With her or without her, we’re finishing it.”

I'm so excited you dont even know

😈😈😈

She wasn’t doing it because she wanted to keep them safe, she was doing it to distract herself from the rage that they shared. The rage that had been amplified by unwanted chemicals and experiments. (F/N) had stopped fighting it, she’d allowed her baser instinct to take over. She was…gone.

Jesus christ darke…

What do you want from me?

this was not on the travel itinerary

😈😈😈

but in all seriousness Jack's identity crisis is terrifying to read

He’s trying really hard to be who he used to be but he’s being pulled in different directions 

He was Jack fuckin’ Bennet.

You know who else is fucking Jack Bennet? 😀

It's Duke and he is very proud of that

Pfffffffffftttttttttt 😂😂😂😂😂

It was New York fuckin’ City, where anything could happen.

That should be their new tourism tagline

Fr fr 

But…Ned? Ned was counting on him. Even if he was the one that got them in this mess in the first place.

Ned comes before all else

He really does. Peter needs to get is priorities straight…maybe he needs some help…

wait i just had a thought

how did Liz --a high school senior--have the time to throw a massive houseparty?

does she not have constant projects to do... tests? the impending doom of college and what the future holds breathing down her neck? because that's what I'm dealing with right now and I barely have time to sit and read let alone throw parties

It’s before homecoming so they’re still in their first few months of school. Plus i think she’s more of an extrovert and we’re both…not that 

jesus with everything going on I forgot about the ambush on

Same 😀

A low growl cracked from Bucky’s throat as he snapped the tablet in two before chucking both halves at the man and surging toward him, latching onto his collar.

😀 hot

yahhhhhhhhhhhsssssssss

Omg I didn't realize those gauntlets came from brock rumlow

😈😈😈

“Oh, my butt!”

I love Peter

Same he’s adorable

“What the heck?” he yelled, fighting back against the talon with a grunt before a purple ball of energy cracked through the sky

Hey that's your future girlfriend's dad you're grappling with Pete

Future homecoming date before he ruins her life’s dad 

He really screwed this one up. At least it was a strange man with a mask that found him instead of Mr. Stark.

That would be really embarrassing.

Well, in another world, sure

also tony is busy... like really busy.

mmhhmmmmmm

Silent Bob... oh my god Peter

He’s trying his best, it’s hard to name things 

The New York Shadow... That makes him sound like an urban serial killer

He’s one bad day away from losing his shit…just like ghost

hahah Doctor Noodle puts tabs on his notes

He’s got a girl to keep track of and she’s incredibly difficult

“Wraith has outlived his usefulness,”

OH SHIT

OH SHIT

OH SHIT OH SHIT OH SHIIIT

😈😈😈

things keep taking turns at some point we'll just circle right back to the start.

😏😏😏

i'm so so so excited to see more of Peter's arc and Jack's development

I think they’ve each got things to teach each other

This was so so so gooood darke

Thank youuuuuuuuu 🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

CHAPTER 91: GREAT POWER, GREAT RESPONSIBILITY

To all my live reactors,

Please, please, please, hide your reactions under a Read More cut. I don’t want any spoilers floating around. 

&

To all my Anonymous Avengers, 

If you want to react in my asks, feel free. However, I won’t be answering any of them until at least Wednesday if they contain spoilers. 

Thank you,

Darke

┍━━━━━━━━ ★ ━━━━━━━━┑

“Hey!” Peter yelled, vaulting over the fence, “Wait! Where are we going?”

“We're not going anywhere,” the Shadow said, continuing to march through the brush and back toward the bridge where they had first started, “You’re taking that back to Stark and figuring out where the hell it came from.”

“Aw, man.” Peter frowned, “But we made such a good team.”

The Shadow paused, looking him over with a shake of his head, “There’s somethin’ comin’, Spider-Man. You have to be ready.”

Peter’s frown deepened as the man stepped further into the darkness.

“What does that mean?” he asked, moving after the man before he froze. The man was gone, he’d seemingly melted into the night.

┕━━━━━━━━ ★ ━━━━━━━━┙

» CHAPTER 91: GREAT POWER, GREAT RESPONSIBILITY

✪ Bᴀᴛᴛʟᴇ Sᴄ���ʀʀᴇᴅ : Aғᴛᴇʀᴍᴀᴛʜ

♜♠ Tʜᴇ Sᴏʟᴅɪᴇʀ & Tʜᴇ Sᴘʏ

⧗ Tʜᴇ Rᴇᴅ Rᴏᴏᴍ

»Jᴏɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴀʀᴋᴇ sɪᴅᴇ Tᴀɢʟɪsᴛ

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[that-one-weeb-buts-its-the-main]

Being Franks Daughter in Hawkins pt 8

Gif caption: Top Gif: Frank Castle from Marvel's Punisher Bottom Gif: Joyce Byers from Netflix's Stranger Things

✧▬ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ▬✧

Reader: 17-18 range | female reader

Characters Mentioned: Frank Castle (MCU), Matt Murdock (MCU), Curt Hoyle (MCU), Karen Page (MCU), Peter Parker (MCU), Dinah Madani (MCU), Steve Harrington (ST), Billy Hargrove (ST), Max Mayfeild (ST), Will Byers (ST), Jonathan Byers (ST), Joyce Byers (ST), Nacny Wheeler (ST), Mike Wheeler (ST), Lucas Sinclair (ST), Dustin Henderson (ST)

A/n: Guys. Halloween Happened this part you know what that means? Demo dogs most likely next chap

Warnings: underage drinking mentioned, also fuck nancy we donf like nancy this chapter

✧▬ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ▬✧

The next day, your up, but Frank has work

So your alone at the house

Props to him for leaving a bowl of oatmeal and fruit for you

God you wish you knew how to cook like Frank does

Maybe you could try.

No you'd probably burn the house down.

A phone call causes you to carry over your breakfast

"Always while Im eatin' come on." Y/n playful protest

"Y/n?"

"Oh. Nancy Hey. Whats up-" Y/n asked.

"Here take the phone-"

"Hello?" It was Mike now.

"Oh. Hey Mikey what can I help you with?"

"Will...uh. Told me about you wanna Try D&D."

Y/n smiled, "I wouldn't mind watching over a game. I've never played it before. Oh. But I was gonna ask if Steve if he wanted to go see that horror movie. And was gonna see if Will wanted to work on our costumes."

"Steve?" Mike asked, "You're dating Steve!? Harrington?!"

"Well. Anything can change within a day Mike- but why is that so-"

There was a click.

"Hello? Mike? Nancy?" Y/n asked into the phone.

Okay. Odd?

Guess that means no D&D for you. Sadly

So you dialed Billy, maybe you could see him today.

"What?" He asked crankily

"Oh well hello to you too Hargrove."

"City bird." He realized, "hey."

Y/n smiled, "I was wondering. Could I come over?"

"Yeah..." he answered.

"Really?" Y/n asked, "And. I dont have to sneak in. Or out?"

"Can we talk about this in person?"

"Yeah. I'm on my way." Y/n spoke.

You got dressed and put on your boots to make the trek to Billy's house

Luckily, you still got your leg strength from running and jumping and all that good shit in New York

You ring the door bell and Max answers it.

"Oh. Hey." Max smiled.

"Hey Max." Y/n smied

"Billy's in his room."

Y/n nodded unzipping her jacket, "did you like those comics?"

"Yeah! They were pretty cool. Know where I can get more?"

Y/n nodded, "I have more dont worry."

You walked through the house, following Billy's loud speakers.

Metal as usual, and even though you knocked he didnt hear you, so you walked in.

"Yo Hargrove!"

The music cut as he turned to her a smile stupidly happy.

"Glowing much pretty boy?" Y/n teased.

"Close the door."

Y/n did as asked as Billy came to her, engulfing her in a stupidly tight bear hug. What?

"Good news?"

"He's gone! He's really fuckin gone!" Billy spoke happily.

"Who?" Y/n asked with a laugh.

"Oh come on! I know you did this!" Billy cheered, "Two weeks! Of fuckin breathin' room! Thank fuckin you!"

"What?" She asked in disbelief.

"What?" He asked, her sudden sour mood dampining his, "What! This is great!"

"He's supposed to be in Jail!" Y/n argued.

"He is!"

What? No thats. Thats not possible.

"I. Two weeks?! Two fuckin weeks?! Thats it!?" Y/n argued.

"Its two weeks! He's done breathing down my neck!"

"No Billy! He's suppose to get. Months! Years maybe! Not two weeks! Thats a slap on the hand!" Y/n argued.

Oh it was so hard to argue with Billy, especially when she seen him so happy for the first time

But he was just. OH so happy, that she eventually dropped it

And he tries to remind you its two weeks free of his dad but it just makes you more mad

He doesnt understand this was what you were suppose to do.

"City bird! Hey! Im talking to you!" Billy argued walking through the house as he followed her, "Where are you going!?"

"You don't understand!"

"Understand what?! You did it!"

"Did it!? Did it!? This is a joke Billy! 2 weeks?! My dad went after the people who killed his family! They killed them! Gunned them all down. He got not one! Not two three or four! 5 life sentences! The laws a joke! The System is A joke! You deserve better!"

You go to leave but he slams the door closed before you can open it all the way

Just for him to hug you

Maybe you should just relish in this small Victory after all Billy was Free from Neil for atleast two weeks.

"Im glad you got some freedom." Y/n spoke, "did he look like a truck hit him atleast?"

"More of less around four trucks."

Y/n laughed, "you want icecream? I want icecream."

So there you are both having on the hood of his Chevy Camaro

Thats when you bring up the family dinner

He only laughs

"Never again" oh he's coming, you'll drag him like he dragged you to the store

Also talk about Halloween

He gives you a 'really' look as you say your going trick or treating

"Free candy."

"Free Booze."

Fair enough, it is Billy

But you tell him maybe something childish will help him feel his true potential and he laughs at you

You both just BS and catch up

Yeah you told him your sucking faces with Harrington and he fake throws up in his mouth

"City bird city bird!" He called out face in hands as he leans on the hood "what am I gonna fuckin do with you?"

"What?" Y/n laughed, "I really do like him."

He looks up at her, "He's...I don't know...just seems...like a great match."

Billy gave her a 'really' look.

"What?! Oh come on. Mr. Jackrabbit."

"I own it." He argued, "Harrington doesn't."

"What?" Y/n asked, "Please. I don't think he's a sex addict like you-"

"That's not it." He defended, "jackrabbits hop around."

"What...no." y/n spoke, "Pietro didnt hop around."

"Okay. Okay." He spoke standing straight up, standing infront of her, "If he hurts you-"

"I'll call you. I promise."

He nodded, "promise?"

He held his pinky out for her as she linked pinkies with him, "Promise."

Seems just been away from each other for a day or two you both had alot to talk about.

Then you both driving for a bit and end up at your house

You work on your costume as he sits by the window smoking.

"What the hell is that?"

"My ant man helmet."

"Can't you just borrow his costume?"

That was a good question

Scott was the type of guy to let you borrow his costume for something like Halloween

"Yeah lets call him."

So you called Scott up

"Hey! Y/n! Y/n!" Scott spoke happily, "The one who too easily kicked my ass."

"Haha. Look I have a favor to ask."

"Let me guess, Im the coolest superhero and you need my help defeating someone."

"Well. You are cool. But I need to borrow the outfit. You know. That one."

"Why?"

"Halloween."

"Yeah fair enough I'll have Strange portal it to you." He told, "But hey! You better send some of those snacks you send Peter."

"Did everyone eat the snacks I sent Peter before Peter ate them?"

"Pfft....yeah. yeah we did." He answered, "They were good!"

So you got an orginal ant man suit even if it was a little snug

"Now thats fuckin badass." Billy cheered watching Y/n turn around who laughed.

"You think the kids will like it?"

"Kids?" Billy spoke, "Dont tell me you actually slept with Harrington-"

Y/n shook her head rolling her eyes as she took looked down at the outfit, "no. But my dads with a chick now and I told him i got trick or treating with him. Same with Nancy's brother who asked me."

"So you rather go trick or treating with some loser kids. Than hang out with me."

"Yes. I would very much." Y/n teased causing him to laugh and roll his eyes playfully, "Don't worry Hargrove you be jealous after the fact I get free candy."

You end up taking the suit off for now, and hanging it up.

Just for Peter to come through your window unannounced and over excited.

"Y/n! There's a Radioshack here! And Man you should web sling through the trees with me! Hence the outfit of you know Spiderman but Oh! My God! It's amazing-"

There Peter stands, spiderman mask gone and suit on as he looks at the two of you in the toom.

"And...you have a friend over- Im Peter! Well Spider Man!- Hi?"

So there goes Billy knowing another superhero identity

Also great for two of your best friends to meet finally

Peters surpised there's no line of questioning just to figure out Billy's already asked you all the usual questions when he found out about you

So you all end up hanging out at your house and basically you both get to tell stories about badass fights and aliens and what not

Yet the day runs out, and Frank ends up coming home meaning the others are probably gonna come over soon

Joyce and Will come over with the gang,

Everyone comes just to hang out, talking bullshit catching up so more

You show Will your room while Matt talks with Billy

"Pretty sick right-"

"Is that your coustume!?" He cheered.

"Yeah it is." Y/n smiled,

"can I put the helmet on?!"

"Hah. Yeah come on I'll help you."

You help Will put the helemt on, its too big for him so he has to hold the sides to see out the eye holes but he's amazed by it

"You look Avenger ready." Y/n smiled.

"You think?" He asked as Y/n pressed the side opening the mask up as he held a smile. "It opens too!"

You had no idea how happy Joyce actually was with Will being so vocal towards you

You dont remember yourself as a kid much but you wonder if you were anything like Will

Quiet but when excited when talking about something of intrest

And he told you all about his costumes

Then proceeded to go into the full entire lore of Ghost Busters

Which you didnt even know exist

You didnt even realize you fell asleep until you woke up early the next day

They put Will on a cot besides your bed, so that must've ment Joyce stayed over, and Peter was on the floor besides Will's cot.

You got out of bed and went into the living room just to see that supposedly everyone had past out in the living room and that included Billy.

You almost laughed actually

Matt was leaning against Frank who was leaning against him

So you went searching for the Polaroid camera

Founding it and full of film you went to take a picture

And Matt must've been so knocked out that he didnt even React.

But Billy did as he flinched awake

"Morin'"

"Mhm...yeah..." he groaned standing up stretching himself out as his bones cracked.

"You hungry?"

"Gimmie five mintues to wake up first damn."

"I'll take it as a yes."

So you started making everyone breakfast

Billy ended up helping you because he litterally watched you almost knock down a pan of hot bacon greese twice and you've barely even started.

And a soft knock causes you to get the door.

Its Steve. With flowers.

"Happy Halloween." He speaks with a smile, "For you."

"Thanks., Happy Halloween to you too," Y/n smiled looking at the orange and yellow sunflowers, "they're pretty."

"Just like you."

That made you giggle, Ew giggle?

Billy swears he'll puke in he hears you giggle again and you'd be right beside him puking your brains out

Steve's pretty pissed when he walks in and sees Billy cooking breakfast as you quickly put your flowers in a vase

"Last time I seen both of you together it was-"

"At the dinner." They both answered.

Y/n smiled, it was nice to have them around together

Though they really hated each other.

They enjoyed you attempt at breakfast

It wasnt a crazy breakfast just simple bacon, eggs and toast.

"Not bad." Billy complimented.

"Thanks." Y/n spoke, "Thought I would of burnt it."

"Just the toast." Steve teased causing Y/n to chuckle, "Burnt toast ends are good."

Y/n smiled poking at her eggs, "I'll have to remember that."

Steve smiled at her, as she held her smile back. The two catching eyes, locking and holding one anothers gaze.

Billy only rolls his eyes at the both of you

He just has a bad vibe off Steve

And that goes both ways

Soon everyone starts waking up and you get them coffee and breakfast

You get the Polaroid camera and take pictures of everyone

Madnai and Billy sitting next to each other of course show the bird

"My brother likes cameras." Will spoke sitting besides Y/n with his breakfast, they sitting on the porch together on the stairs.

Y/n smiled drinking some of the coffee, "Yeah? If he's anything like you, we could be good friends."

Will nodded looking down at his plate, the cold stealing heat from the food.

"You...lived in New York."

"Yes I did." Y/n spoke, "All my life almost."

"You've seen. Werid stuff?" Will asked, "Like. Stuff that's...scary?"

Y/n looked down at her mug, "...Yeah...I do."

"Do you dream about it?"

"All the time." Y/n answered, "what about you? Have any bad dreams?"

"Not last night." He answered.

"But before?"

Will nodded, "I get worried Im gonna hurt someone."

"Thats the good thing about nightmares." Y/n spoke, "they cant hurt anyone. Not anyone out here."

He nods as Y/n smiled, "So. What houses are we going after first? I know in New York the rich families always give out full bars."

"Here too. Same houses every year."

You both go inside, Will wanting some more eggs.

Joyce is glad to hear Will has no nightmares, its not often and she even jokes that she'd have to start having him have sleep over with you more

Its just a good time all around.

Billy's given up on convicing you to go to a party instead of trick or treating but did tell you where the party would be just in case

He leaves after a time, saying he had to check on his "shit head sister" you two quickly linking Pinkies before he leaving

"What was that?" Steve asked as they walked into her room.

"Handshake in a way." Y/n spoke.

"Bye Y/n!"

"Bye Will! Bye Joyce! I'll pick up Will in a few!" She called.

Y/n pulled the hanger down with the costume on it

"We don't have a handshake." Steve commented.

Y/n chuckled, "did you want to make one?"

"I wouldn't mind-" Steve started, as he turned around she getting undressed to put the suit on.

"I just thought it'd be cool. You know. With dating an all...plus. dont think any other girl would want to have a secret handshake."

A zipper was heard before Y/n's footsteps and he turned around: seeing her in full deep red leather with an accent of black.

"You look. Wow." Steve started looking at her in awe, "wow...is that-"

"Leather?" Y/n asked, "sure we can call it leather."

"You look."

Y/n raised a brow.

"Wow."

Okay is he gonna stop saying Wow now?

You can only laugh and walk out the room with the helmet in hand.

Apparently Peter's coming too because he's now in a toned down spiderman suit like the classic instead of the superfancy shiney one

"Whattya think? Think I could tag along?"

"I think your tags showing."

"What!? Really!? Aw man!"

Steve almost feels left out, but he said he was going to a party so not to really feel bad about it

You leave with Parker and Steve at your side bur before you do.

"Matt you're coming."

"Yeah alright."

Just drag Matt Murdock along on all your silly adventures

No you really just need him to flirt with Mrs.Wheeler so you can sneak Mike out the back door

Saying bye to Steve you kiss him quickly and then your on your way

"No daredevil outfit?" Y/n questioned Matt clearing his throat, "its on under your suit isn't it."

"Just in case."

"In case what? A tree attacks us?" Peter asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Just incase Y/n goes insane."

You only laugh at that and park infront of the Wheelers, getting out as Matt gets out with ease

"Act like your not blind. Just keep the glasses on and flirt with her. I'll go around back and Peter will keep the car going."

"Yeah yeah. Go go."

Operation break the kid out of his basement a go.

You quickly ran around back while Matt went to sweet talk Mrs.Wheeler

"Well...Hello." Mrs.Wheeler spoke with a smile, Matt smiling back.

"Hello. Ms?"

"Mrs. Wheeler. Karen Wheeler." She spoke, yeah sounds like she wouldnt be Mrs. For much longer talking like that.

You knock on Mikes basement door that leads to the back as he opens it seeing Three boys there.

"YOU'RE-"

"Shh!" Y/n shushed opening the helmet, "Sinclair, Wheeler- hi new kid."

"You're from the supermarket! Remember me? Dustin Dustin Henderson."

"Oh. Yeah. Hi. Now hurry up Mrs.Wheeler dosen't exactly like me."

They rushed to follow you and while Matt quickly said his goodbyes after painfully flirting with Mrs.Wheeler they all quickly got to the truck

"Come on we gotta go get Max!" Y/n spoke, taking the helmet off, "hold this would you Henderson?"

They all wanna wear it. They know your not all the really heros but damn. You do look it

You guys go pick up max, then Will

Thats where you "offically meet Johnathan"

"Hey. I'm-"

"Y/n....Y/n Castiglione..."

She smiled, "Thats me. Hehe...Jonathan I remember you from the lunch tables. Not very...social at school."

"No! No! I. I understand ya." He spoke as they shook hands, "nice to finally meet you."

"Right back at you."

"So uh. If you dont mind. Taking photos while there out."

"No not at all yeah. I'd love too."

Group of kids ready to rumble now

You take them to the "rich neighborhood" because thats where all the good candy is

They're all rushing to get out the car because they have to home by a certain time so they want all the candy they can get

Peter and Matt keep up with most of them

But Will's kinda lagging, so you stick with him. Gives for nice photos of the kids in the distance

You also snap a few pictures of Will trick or treating too

As well as denying people for pictures

But as you're standing there changing the film and waiting for Will to come back down you look up and he's gone

"Huh. Will! Will!" Y/n called just to hear him shivering from far away.

You managed to find him.

"Hey! Hey! Buddy. What's wrong?"

"Im sorry im sorry!" He cried.

"Come on lets take a breathe. Theres nothing to be sorry for." She tells him.

"Will?!"

"We're down here mike."

Mike rushed down to both of you and ask what happened

But Will says he just wants to go back and hang out with Mike at his place.

"Okay. Thats fine. Call your mom while your there? So she knows. And take this," Y/n spoke handing him the camera," Good memories right?"

He looks down at the camera and full roll and nods.

"Come on I'll take you both back."

So you do just that, drive them back to Mikes house.

"And please! Call your mother!"

"I will."

Y/n smiles, "Hey and Will."

He looks back at her, "If you ever need someone to back you up. I've got you."

"Thanks."

You hope he'd be okay, and that a friend could help him, but you have to go pick up the other kids too because its getting towards that time

So you take them home waving to them then driving off.

But one of the kids forgot something to there costume so you'll just give it back Monday.

So when you drop off Lucas and wave to Mr. And mrs.Sinclair goodbye you realize its not even that late.

"What are your thinking?" Matt questioned.

"Its only 10:30." Y/n spoke.

"And?" Matt spoke Peter handing him a tootsie roll, "thank you"

"I...could go to a party."

"We're going to a party?" Peter asked.

"No. I'm going to a party."

"You take peter i dont tell. You dont take Peter I tell." Matt spoke.

"What?! Why?" Y/n argued.

"Always need someone watching you back." Matt defended, "is this Bananana flavored what the hell!"

"What!? No way?! Thats a thing!?" Peter asked handing Matt another one.

"Steve will be there." Y/n defended.

"Oh." Matt spoke.

"What do you mean oh?"

"Oh. Like. Drinking, drugs, boys, bathrooms-"

"EW!" Peter and Y/n complained.

"Im telling the truth!" Matt defended opening the packet of candy and eating it, "who the hell gives out fruity tootise rolls!"

"So. I take Peter. We chill for a few hours we come back."

"Wait so I can go?"

"Yeah."

"Alright!"

Matts gonna murder you with the fruity tootsie rolls if you keep giving them to him.

You drop him off at his motel and then your off

Que you and peter almost getting lost for 25 mintues, real smooth

But you guys eventually make it

Just to find a guy hurling outside

"Wow. Hawkins Parties. Great." Peter joked.

You could only roll your eyes at him as you both went inside.

You could Find Steve but you found Billy

Being Billy

People hyping him up as he chugged what you assumed was the whole Keg he feeling like a king

Then spotted you

"Look who decided to show up!" He laughed, shouting over the music,"Put your kids too bed!?"

"Infact I did!" She laughed.

"Come on! Lets get you a drink!" He shouted

"No! No! Im not into the whole drinking think!"

"I know! But you be surpised that water and soda still exist here!"

So he takes you to go get a water and then runs off, you following just to loose him in the crowded house.

Thats when you spot Nancy, and go to say Hi but Steve's over there.

You much rather not intrude on there friendship, after all. You're always hanging around boys so you dont see a problem with Nancy hanging around or anyone else

Except Carol

We dont like Carol, or Heather aka the Bully

Peter finally finds you

"Already partying?" Y/n laughed.

"This kinda sucks." He answered grabbing a water.

"Yeah," y/n spoke, "Not everything they make it out to be."

"Wanna just go back to yours and build that lego set?" Peter asked then took a chug of water, but got no answer, "Y/n?"

What was Steve Harrington doing walking Nancy Wheeler to the bathroom just in sight And going in with her

"One sec."

You left Peter there as you went to the bathroom, in full honesty you expect to hear soothing words and puking

Not. Well.

"Its all Bullshit!" Nancy complained.

"Nanc, come on you're drunk, just puke your brains out and-"

"You're bullshit!" She argued.

"Nancy I don't-"

"Bullshit. Its all bullshit Steve. I love you!"

Y/n stayed still, "Nanc, I. Look I really like Y/n."

"But you don't love her. Its why its Bullshit! Who do you love?! Its me or her!"

"Nanc, you know you can't make me do that-"

"Its me. Or its her!"

You interveinded by knocking on the door.

"Nanc? I seen you come in here? Are you okay? You didnt look so good!"

The door opened to see Nanc still hunched over the sink, and Steve standing on the other side of her.

"Too much to drink?" Y/n asked him.

"No kidding." Steve told.

"Nancy? You okay?" Y/n asked going to stand her up straight.

"No-" her protest didnt last long as she fell over Y/n catching her.

"Alright lets get you some water-"

Nancy just pushed off her, and went off by herself

"Rude drunk much?" Y/n asked.

"I thought you weren't coming." Steve spoke up

"Kids went home." Y/n told, "Thinkin about goin there myself. Home. This aint my style."

"I could go with you." Steve mentioned.

"I've gotta drop Peter off." Y/n answered, "Maybe. Come over we go threw the candy stash?"

"At my house?" Steve asked.

"Your house? Steve your parents-"

"Aren't home." Steve finished for her, "I like Tootsie rolls. See you there."

He kissed your cheek and then left

You and Peter end up leaving and you telling him you were going to Steves

He starts teasing you

"Yeah? What about you and MJ?"

"Thats a different story!"

"Sure. Parker Sure."

You pulled up to the motel just for Karen to run up.

"Hey Karen-"

"Matt's gone."

"What?" Y/n asked.

"He's gone!" Karen complained.

"Come on he's blind but very much capable-"

"Y/n!"

"Okay! Okay! Let me park and we'll help look!"

It doesn't take long for you with a trusty flashlight to reach the nearby farms to see Matt out there

"Damn it Murdock! What in gods name are you-"

You had stepped into a pumpkin rather than tripping over one just to see your ankle high in rotten pumpkin guts.

You kick them off and walk over to Matt

"Dude everyones-"

"Shh-"

"Hey-"

"Shut up."

Well if Matt's telling you to shut up its usually important

"Do you hear that?"

"Hear what?"

He was silent for a moment, "look at the pumpkins below you. There. Rotted."

"Okay some bad crop maybe?"

"Pumpkins? Rotting on Halloween Night?" Matt asked grabbing a piece just for it to almost melt in his hand like ice cream on a hot day, "Crops this rotted would take days, weeks even. Why would it be so vast?"

"Matt. Its Hawkins. Its probably some old farmer that just cant get around fast enough." Y/n explained, "lets go now?"

He sighed, getting up and picking up his white cane and unfolding it, walking over to her, "somethings not right here, you need to tell me if you see anything."

"Matt. Its Hawkins!" Y/n protested.

"Y/n. Im blind!" Matt argued, "look what I do."

Matt did have a fair point, but you rather just. Stay away from that stuff

You were trying to ya know. Lay Low

Plus you had a boyfriend, and then there were the kids

And you just dont wanna rope them in to anything Superhero level dangerous

Certainly didnt want anything avenger level threat

You took Matt back and used the motel phone to call Frank

"No."

"What!? Why not!?" Y/n complained.

"Who's house are you staying at?" Frank asked.

"I dont know. Who's house is Joyce staying at?" Y/n protested.

"So this is how your gonna convince me?" Frank asked.

"Yes?"

He sighed, "I need the truck back for tommrow- If I see ONE mark on you-"

"Yeah yeah, you'll pow pow pow. I got it." Y/n spoke, "Try and not break the bed frame?"

"Y/n! I swear to-"

But you had already hung up and was calling Steve's house

"Hello?"

"Harrington. Pick me up by the street near my house 15 mintues."

With that you said goodbye to everyone, told Matt to stop freaking out and drove off to your house

You parked the truck and hurried in through your window to change and throw the stuff one of the kids left in your room.

You'd ask Strange to portal back the suit later.

So with your bag of candy and small bag of chlothes you went to the road.

"What...the hell is that..." Y/n asked squiting at the hunched over animal in the distance, just before it darted off.

But Steve's lights come into view and he's stopping for you to get in.

You tossed your bag in the back and sit in the passenger seat

"Big Haul." Y/n smiled holding up the candy bag.

Steve smiled, "any spare tootsie rolls in there?"

"Saved one just for you."

The drive back to his house was filled with Music and laughing

You two eating candy before you could even go through it.

When you got to the house, some bad memories came over you, but you pushed forward.

He took you upstairs. You hadn't been to his room before.

His room was...plain compared to yours, but bigger.

"I can go make us something warm. Coffee? Tea?" He asked, he looked nervous having Y/n in his room sitting on the edge of his bed.

"Um...yeah whatever you make I'll have one." Y/n told with a smile.

"Right...you'll be fine up here?"

"Yeah."

So he left you up there, and you decided to pick out all the wrappers from your candy adventure in Steve's car and toss them in his little trash

Just to catch a peak out his window

Wow. Steve's family had a lot more money than you realized

It was sooner rather than later that he came up with tea for the both of you

"Sorry. If you don't uh."

"Like it?"

"Yeah..."

"I'll drink it anyhow. Thanks."

They sat on his bed side by side, drinking tea.

"You're not very picky."

Y/n chuckled, "how could I be?"

Steve cocked an eyebrow up as Y/n sighed, "Sorry-"

"No. No." Steve told, "harder than I imagined in New York."

Y/n smiled, "Superhero's are people too."

"You really do have relationships with them. Don't you?" Steve questioned, "Genuine realtionships."

"I understand them. In a way...I see them as people..rather than superheros. Not all are good though, some rest in the gray and such." Y/n informed with a soft smile towards him, "Its tough out there."

"Im no superhero, but I get it." Steve answered, "I shouldn't even be saying that..."

"Hey. Everyone has there hardest hour." Y/n told setting her mug besides her feet on the floor, "its diffrent from someone elses. Ya know?"

"I think thats what makes you...unique." he started, "You...see everyone in different parts. Heh I'd be dumb to say its not one of the reasons I love you-"

It went silent between the two, Steve clearing his throat as he set his mug on his nightstand, "I. Sorry."

"For what?" Y/n spoke, "You say sorry when you dont mean things. Did you not-"

"Mean it?" Steve asked, "Well No I didnt."

"You didn't?"

"No! I mean yes no I didn't- The sorry. But I did- I- fuck."

Y/n smiled small at him as he jumbled his words: "I get it."

"Oh thank god."

He couldnt help but feel stupid when you were around, like you were some kindergarten crush

When both of you are already dating

You lay back on his bed, and he lays besides you.

Thats when you realize he has a glow in the dark star sticker on his ceiling still, most likely from when he was like 8

"Does it still glow?" Y/n asked.

"What?" Steve asked looking at the ceiling as she points it out, "lets find out."

He turns off his lamp leaving the two in the semi dark light from the pool outside polluting the room.

"Yeah kinda." Y/n smiled as Steve finds himself next to Y/n again.

"Huh. Would you look at that." Steve chuckled watching Y/n reach a hand out to the star.

"Stars aren't far out of reach then." Y/n told him.

Steve's hand came up to catch Y/n's, "Two hands are better than one."

She turns her head to look at him he doing the same as they make eye contact and hold it, "You're not wrong."

Steve gives her a soft smile, he getting up to lean on his side and look down at her, "what?" She asked.

"Just wondering if you have more intrest in the star than me." Steve told her, causing her to laugh, "Could...I steal your attention for just a moment for a kiss?"

"And ruin my view of the star? No way!"

"Ouch!"

Y/n laughed as he joined her, feeling her hands grip onto his collar and pull him down into a soft kiss. It pulling Steve in deeper in love than he already was.

✧▬ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ▬✧

Tags: @raelwrites @miiikkeey @beebslebobs @ah-witch @supernaturallover2002 @pearlstiare @simonsbluee @stilllivindue2spite @lvbred @dancingqueen21 @writerdream22 @i-reblog-fics-i-like @knivqs @xxlaynaxx @eliskakratochvilova @sunshinepower17 @marssssaturn @3-spurr

[pagesfromthevoid]

You were correct when you said that daredevil has angst at its core. Nothing exists without it.

False God | m.m. | 17

Matt Murdock x Avenger!reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: ANSGTTTTT. Matt is still a punk ass bitch.

Author’s Note: Listen. Listen. I’ve been writing these chapters for WEEKS now. You’ll also recognize dialogue from this post (it’s mine, truly, I am plagiarizing myself don’t call me out on it). Have I mentioned I’m on a fuckin roll?

Series Masterlist | Talk to me!

Tony had only found Matt by chance, really. And it wasn’t even because he was tracking the guy’s phone.

Pepper had forced him into a questionable party, noting something about business partners of Stark Industries. He wasn’t really even listening when she explained it. Just said okay and agreed like he always did. A tuxedo and a couple drinks later, and Tony was sidled up to the bar of a small party, making small talk with various people who he didn’t actually care about.

It was at this point that he turned around at some commotion —someone yelling, wine being spilled and a glass shattering. He almost offered his help —but then he realized what was happening. Sort of, at least.

That was most certainly Matt Murdock; and that was most certainly him walking away from spilling that wine. Tony watched closer, frowning deeply as a very beautiful woman took his arm, whispering in his ear.

Tony didn’t need to know anything else. Didn’t need to ask any questions, or even follow him. Because it didn’t matter if that was Elektra or not. It didn’t matter who the woman was; all that mattered to Tony, in that moment, was that Matt Murdock was at swanky goddamn party, with a woman who wasn’t his girlfriend, while she suffered alone in the hospital.

Before he texted her, he made sure to send another important message.

*****

He’s with her.

That’s all the text said.

That’s all it needed to say.

*****

She tried to stay in the hospital. She really did. But the morning after Tony texted her, she was getting antsy. Matt was out galavanting around New York with his ex girlfriend, but she was sitting in a hospital gown eating jello. Waiting. Foggy stopped by in the morning with a bagel and coffee, smiling at her reassuringly as he sat down.

By mid afternoon, she was seemingly getting restless, trying to force herself to sleep. But she tossed and turned for hours, hurting her left side as she tried to keep her mind off of Matt. Peter visited next, telling her about how Ned found out he was Spider-Man. She reminded him that secret identities were sort of the key to being a superhero but he insisted Ned was his “guy in the chair.”

That was a ridiculous notion, but it got her through the rest of the day until the sun was starting to set. Then she caved, ripping the heart monitor off her chest. This alerted the nurses, and Claire stormed into the room while she was pulling the IVs and tubes from her arms.

“What the hell are you doing?” Claire demanded.

“I’m going home,” she answered simply, yanking the hospital gown off and grabbing the clothes Karen had brought for her.

“You can’t just go home,” Claire argued, snatching her pants so she couldn’t put them on. She slipped her shirt over her head with a huff.

She gave Claire a pointed look, but there was something worse going on. Claire could tell. “I sure as fuck can. I’m fine. I can walk, and I’ve recovered.”

“What’s going on?” Claire asked, tone shifting towards being soft now.

The two watched each other and she looked down. “Matt hasn’t come to see me because he’s running around New York with his ex. According to Stark, anyway.”

“Oh shit.” Claire let out a breath, looking down for a moment. “You think…you really think Matt would cheat on you?”

“I think he’s lied to me, and hasn’t come to see me while I sit in the hospital,” she offered. No. She didn’t think Matt was cheating on her. But she knew him well enough to know the effect Elektra had on him; he’d shown her himself. “I…I need to go home, Claire.”

The nurse hesitated for a moment before she handed over the jeans with a slow nod. “Before you came along, I used to warn him that martyrs end up bloody and alone.”

She sat down and slid her jeans over her legs slowly, taking a moment shimmy them up. “I guess you were right, huh?”

“I had hoped I wouldn’t be, when he told me about you.”

She scoffed, looking down for another moment before she stood, buttoning the jeans. They hung close to her hip, and she flinched from the pain, but it subsided quickly enough.

“Matt…Matt is so many things, Claire,” she started, sitting back down on the bed. She looked out the window. “I thought he was a hero, but I think he’s just…I think he’s just an idiot that can’t stay out of trouble.”

Claire couldn’t help but laugh, nodding in agreement. “I think most people look at heroes like that.”

But shook her head. “I don’t know,” she continued, biting at her lip. “I think…at the end of the day, Matt is not a martyr; I think Matt’s a problem.”

Claire leaned in and took her hands gently. “I think…I think you know what you need, at the end of the day.”

She nodded once, standing. “I do know, yeah.”

*****

Matt didn’t think she would be discharged from the hospital so quickly. Truly, based on the severity of the injuries, he thought she would be there at least another week. It was the only reason he willingly brought Elektra back to the apartment; she wasn’t supposed to come home. Maybe if he had visited her —or called her or anything he would have known better.

“You have company,” Stick announced, pushing the door to Matt’s bedroom open. “It’s the Avenger. I’m surprised she’s not dead, honestly.”

Matt hadn’t heard her open the door. Hadn’t heard her walking up the stairs, or turning the key. He wasn’t listening like he should have been. He was just focused on Elektra, and the poison that was creeping it’s way through her bloodstream.

“Matt, what the actual fuck —“

The shift in her voice from his name to the curse of her sentence —it went annoyance to anger very quickly. It was betrayal, tying it all together. He knew the moment from when she walked in that he was fucked. But hearing her heart falter as she slid to a stop, staring at Elektra in his bed —in their bed was worse than he anticipated.

“I can explain —“

He didn’t need her to think he was cheating on her. That was the last thing he would do. But the scene before her was clear as day, and suspiciously well presented.

She put her hands up, shaking her head as her hands trembled. “I…there’s no need. I don’t want to hear your shitty excuses, Matt.”

“Please —“

The memories that Matt had shown her of Elektra were flashing through her mind as she stared him down. He could hear her heart racing; the blood rushing to her cheeks as she only got angrier. She trusted him so much. But something about his history with Elektra was too much for him or her; he was drawn to Elektra no matter how much he loved her. She knew that; and the tingling in the base of his skull said she was seeing it for herself.

“Get out of my head,” he murmured, voice low.

“I was shot,” she said with a motion to the left side of her body. Her movements were slow, painful as she moved into the bedroom further and started to yank her clothes out of her drawers. She was holding back tears. “I was shot twice, Matt. I had a bullet lodged in my fucking hip. And I called you. I called you over and over and over again. Foggy and Karen called. Fuck, even Claire called. Do you know who came to visit me when you didn’t?” She demanded, pointing at him angrily. “Fucking Tony Stark. Someone who I genuinely didn’t think ever would want to see me again. How come he could make sure I was okay but you fucking couldn’t?” She motioned to Elektra and Stick, shaking her head. “But here you are. That’s why, huh? Just…just playing fucking house with your ex girlfriend.”

Her attention turned to Elektra and it was in this moment that Matt heard her heart falter. Skip a beat. He glanced at Elektra, and he realized what he had done.

Elektra was wearing one of her shirts.

That was the final blow to their crumbling relationship. And Matt knew it as she took a trembling breath.

“You know what?” She whispered, looking back at him. Her voice was calmer than the rest of her body. “She can keep my shirt. She can keep the bed, and the apartment. Fuck, she can even keep you. Because…because fuck this.”

“You have to understand —“

“You were already going to break up with me, Matt! Why are you arguing? Isn’t this what you wanted?” She started stuffing her clothes haphazardly in a bag that sat on the floor next to the dresser. Matt didn’t try to stop her. “I’ll…I’ll send for my shit. Just…don’t call me. Ever.”

He tried to follow her out, body shaking as he reached for her. But she snatched her hand away from him, turning to him. Around him, the sight of her appeared. Rage, hurt, betrayal. It was all there, in plain sight.

“I can hear what you think, Matt! You don’t want this anymore! You think you’re this fucking bad guy who got me shot but I chose this life long before I met you. But…but that’s not really why you’re leaving. We both know why.” She yelled at him, turning to face him fully. “You’re screaming it. You love her; you want her. You never stopped. And I will not live in that shadow. I may fucking hate myself, but not enough to live like this.”

“I’m sorry,” he managed to say, but his voice was broken as he looked at her one final time. Matt was suddenly realizing that this was a terrible idea; this sudden hole in his heart from where she used to occupy was consuming him. But it was too late. “I-I really am.”

Just as she turned to leave, she paused and looked between him and the bedroom. “I hope you see my face when you fuck her, Murdock. I hope it makes you sick, and makes you hate yourself even more than you already do,” she seethed, pointing at him. “And I hope, when you realize you fucked up and you crawl back to the one real thing you’ve ever known, it kills you when I slam the door in your fucking face.”

Without another word, the vision of her disappeared and with it went her.

“It was nice meeting you!” Stick called after her as she slammed the front door. “Well she’s a bitch.”

Matt looked at him with a deep frown, listening for her voice as she stormed out of the apartment building. He caught what she was saying; hearing her voice one more time —it trembling as she made a phone call.

“Foggy?” She said into the phone, voice shaking as she finally started to cry. “I-I need somewhere to stay.”

Matt already hated himself.

*****

“You know, I wasn’t expecting a text from you. Or from your spider child.”

Tony leaned against his car, outside Peter’s apartment. The kid had mentioned she returned to subbing at his school, and that she looked worse for wear. Tony knew he had played a part in that.

“Yeah, well, I figured you’d want to know about your coworker, Romanoff.”

There was a pause on the other line. “You know where he lives?”

“Well that depends,” Tony countered, looking around as Peter ran out of the building. Tony opened the door, motioning for him to be quiet and get in. “You gonna kill the guy?”

Natasha hummed on the other line, as if she wasn’t actually sure. “No,” she settled on saying. “But I am going to pay him a visit.”

“There’s something off about him,” Tony remarked, shutting the door of the car. He held the phone to his ear with his shoulder, opening his door now. “He moved quick for a blind guy in an unfamiliar place.”

“Maybe he’s not actually blind.”

“I feel like she would have definitely known if he wasn’t actually blind though.”

Natasha hummed again. “Let me see what I can dig up. I’ll let you know.”

“Thanks.” Tony hesitated for a moment, then continued. “And Romanoff? Make sure you go see her if you come around. She…she needs us, I think.”

“I will.”

———

Series Masterlist

———

Taglist (CLOSED): @thebisexual-disaster @chims-kookies @ferxaniti @heybabyshae @notalxx @gothicxbarbie @dark-night-sky-99 @blacxk-moony @celestialissues @pinkybee926 @bex-tk1 @jasontoddthezombie @killthebutt4fly @softieekayy @user897sblog @cbloodmarch @ammiddlechild @venusriver @unabashedlyswimmingtimemachine @yikes-buddy @buckyspetal @baconlover001 @flimsysquid @reh-llik @messagesinthesky @dreamypanda @happyfern2 @svft-cas @andiforgetaboutyoulongenoughh @deafeningnightcollection-things @milf-murdock

[captainsimagines]

To Topple A Giant || Chapter Seven

Summary: You had made it your mission to destroy even the smallest evils. When the opportunity arises to finally take down your own family after years of gaining their trust, you reach for it. And so does Steve, the man who represents a symbol of everything you hate.

Pairing(s): Steve Rogers x Reader || Avengers x Reader

Part 7 of 10 ~ Mini-Series

Warnings: This story contains mature themes and discussions such as extreme canon violence, strong language, emotional angst, mentions of Endgame deaths and recoveries, sexual situations, and emotional/physical abuse. This is purely fanfiction.

Warnings in this Chapter: abusive parental relationship; strong language; canon-level violence (explosions); mentions of alcohol poisoning; mention of Infinity War/Endgame deaths; perceived domestic partner abuse (no such thing actually happens!); concussions and minor injuries; mentions of arranged marriages; mentions of drug smuggling and human smuggling; lying; ANGST!

Word Count: 14,100+

A/N: So close to the finish line...

~

Spain, 2024, 5:07 pm.

    “Get the damn ice cream, Peter. I’m not holding you back.”

The kid sped down the sidewalk as fast as his feet would let him, skips in his steps and ignoring the chastising yells from Bucky. 

“You’re letting him have sugar?” Bucky whines, sluggish in his own steps. The Spanish summer sun was blaring, burning your forehead and building the same cold craving in your throat. It was just the three of you, carefree but melting, happy but annoyed with the constant proximity of each other. The villa (if you could call it that, it was more of a cottage) was listed as having three rooms - not the two you were stuck with. Bucky was at the last inch of self-control, begging you to switch with him - if only for one night - because ‘the kid fuckin’ talks in his sleep, doll! One more night and I might smother him.’

It was Bucky’s idea to take a little vacation. A year after the blip and only a few months after Peter’s world was turned upside down, a vacation seemed like the best choice. Preferably somewhere that was quiet and somewhat rural - somewhere you guys won’t be easily recognized. 

So the three of you packed and flew across the pond. In all honesty, you hadn’t even told the rest of the team where you were going besides Wanda. One day you were greeting them in the common room and preparing lunch, the other you were throwing your suitcase in one of the two vacant rooms in this little Spanish cottage. The three of you were truly off the map in terms of late notice. 

“Let the kid live. He’s having a mid-life crisis at eighteen.”

“I’ve had more mid-life crisis’s than his age combined. He’s not special.” The pointed look on your face had Bucky sighing in small defeat. “Okay, okay.”

These past two weeks in shared solitude, even if this trip was supposed to be relaxing, was beginning to melt into a tiresome routine. Well, just nights. The days were mild at best. And to make matters worse, you and Bucky had been dodging the team’s calls, messages that you left for voicemail. Bucky had clicked ‘end call’ more times than he could count and his excuse was always, ‘ the kid doesn’t want to leave, doll.’ Even annoyed with Peter, Bucky wanted only the best. 

It was only a matter of time until your phones were tracked and you were forced to come home. Everyone probably knew where you were anyway - you weren’t exactly hiding. But since you already got a good two weeks in, you figured they had taken some sympathy. 

“Think we can get him to visit a museum today or something?”

Bucky shrugged, lining up at the coffee stand near the ice cream cart. “Saw him checking out banana bread recipes last night. Seems more like a baking day.”

You could go for some banana bread. Ordering two iced coffees and making more miscellaneous small talk while waiting for Peter to order, you studied the streets of Spain. The country had suffered greatly when, cruelly, more than half their population disappeared. Left in proper ruins, no one believed it would ever recover. But then there was an election, a change in the structural government, and it just… did. They rebuilt themselves better than any country had, in your opinion. 

It was a rather calm day with minimal people out and about. It was exactly what you guys deserved after every mission - in your case, after a long month of PR recovery after that bar fight alongside Sam. 

“You bake, Barnes?”

He smiled fully, “Any chance I get.”

“You guys want anything?” Peter yelled out, bouncing lightly on his heels as he waited. You waved him off. “You sure? It’s pretty cheap for summer prices!”

After rejecting Peter’s dozen ice cream questions and offers, the three of you decided the heat was a little too much to bear, even with sunscreen. Peter spoke most of the way. Something about that banana bread.

Bucky, being the baker, helped him choose the best recipe of the four Peter had bookmarked and soon the kitchen was only half dirty with eggs and mashed bananas.

“What do you mean a cup of baking soda, kid? Use your eyes,” Bucky yelled in second hand embarrassment. “I don’t think a cup of baking soda goes in anything.”

“Read right here, dude,” Peter poked at his tablet. “A cuuuu... okay. Okay, I see what I read wrong.”

“You two better be making me some good ass banana bread today. I don’t want to throw up!” You had opted to let the two men have their fun in the kitchen. You tried to bake, but you were more of a cook than anything else.

“You could be reading out the directions.”

“I could do a lot of things,” you respond with the emphasis on “could”.

The doorbell interrupted your no-so-real argument. Peter snickered, “You could get the door.”

With a displeased grunt and a straightened middle finger to the kid, you opened the door to find two people who were definitely not invited. Clint, with this magical and massive smile on his face and Steve, with his eyebrow cocked and arms crossed.

“Oh, would you look at that. Guests! Welcome to our humble abode!”

“Now, how and why?” Bucky groaned. But his actions contradict his words as he went to give Steve a hug, covered in flour and all.

“Hey, Clint,” you mumbled, purposely ignoring the super soldier side-eyeing you. “Care to tell us what you’re doing here?

Clint returned your warm smile, “See, Cap? They’re safe. Can we go now?”

Steve rolled his eyes, arms crossed over his chest in a rather demanding way. “We’re here to take them home, Clint.”

Bucky scoffs.

“Eh, you might be. But I’m here to soak up some of this Spanish sun.” A low grunt sounded in the back of Clint’s throat as he spoke. He was already making his way to pick at the mashed ingredients. 

“You heard the man, pal,” Bucky slaps Steve’s shoulder, leaving him at the door as well. Awkwardly left alone, you blow a small raspberry and step aside to let Steve in. Bucky continues, “We’re here to soak up some sun. And I’m not done soakin’.”

With great protest, Steve maneuvers Bucky away from the kitchen and into the hallway beside the master bedroom. With both super soldiers out of the way, you finally go to help Peter with mixing. “Why did he come, really?”

Clint shrugs, arms deep inside your cabinets and collecting whatever desserts you had pre-packaged. “Honestly? I think he missed you guys.”

“All this drama because he misses Bucky? He could have just shown up declaring truce and had a nice little vacation,” you mumbled, glaring at Steve from behind. 

“Think he felt like he needed an excuse to even show up. But they really are asking for you guys back home. Threatened to arrest your ass.”

“Lucky me.”

You could make out snippets of their tiny argument up ahead. 

‘You could have called.’

‘You haven’t been answering the phone, Buck.’

‘I’ve been relaxing.’

A heavy sigh. 

‘I just thought we told each other everything.’

‘Believe it or not, Steve… but I’ve got more friends now. Isn’t that what you wanted? I’m not trying to ignore you, I - I just needed to help another friend out this time.’

Peter, with great care, washes his hands and makes sure there aren't any random mashes of banana on his clothing before he side-steps you and Clint to interrupt the very ‘private’ conversation between the super soldiers. “Hey, Mr. Steve- Cap, hey.”

Steve immediately lets his hard gaze falter. “Hey, kid. You doin’ good?”

Peter nods in response. 

“He’s doing great! Much needed vacation that still isn’t over.”

“Buck.”

Inserting yourself may not have been the best option. “Give it up, Rogers. We’re on vacation. And until the kid says he’s ready to go home, we go home.”

Peter fumbles, “Oh, please don’t put me on the spot like that. I’m not good with confrontation.”

Bucky quickly answers before Steve can, “It’s not confrontation, Peter. We love being out here and if it’s helping your mental health, we’re not going to take that away from you.”

Steve blinks and his expression looks like one of hurt. “You think I wanna do that? The literal president has been asking for your location. You’re not allowed to leave the country.”

You shrug, “Well, no one told me that.”

“Buck, you were just granted immunity three months ago. And you go and drop off the face of the earth?”

“I’m literally in Spain.”

Steve blinks again. He really can’t believe he’s got to deal with two people with similar personalities. “Your point?”

“On Earth…?”

Clint decides to make his presence known. He has even inserted the poured batter into the glass tray for you guys. “Why don’t we just stay with ‘em, Cap? God knows you need a vacation, too.”

“We have two rooms. You’d be bunking on the floor,” you say, pointing to random areas on the floor.

Clint waves his hand in the air, “Not the worst place I’ve slept in.”

“I’m being hounded day and night to bring you three home.” Steve looks about ready to burst into tears of frustration.

“Turn off your phone?”

Steve whips his head and stomps to close the few feet of distance between the two of you. “You really think it’s that easy? You really think I wasn’t worried when my two best friends just disappeared one night and didn’t tell me?”

Two.

Best. 

Friends. 

Before you could even comment, Bucky puts on the dramatics.  “We ran away together, Stevie. We meant to tell you.”

Steve takes a moment, just staring at the ceiling and piecing together his thoughts. “Joke all you want, Buck. I’m bringing you home.”

“Ste-”

“No!” He’s stomping back to the front door now. “I’ve had enough! I can’t stand not knowing where you guys are all day when bad things keep happening in this world. Just… just come home.”

All is quiet besides the quiet munching of Clint and his rogue cookie. Steve’s face did this thing when he was at war with himself, anxiety crawling up his arms or panic weighing his empty stomach down. His face drained color and that perfect renaissance oil lost its blush, blended paint that turned a murky gray. A masterpiece lost in storage.

“I can take the couch,” you whisper, arms erupting in goosebumps. “You guys can stay the night and we’ll go home tomorrow, okay? Or somewhere pre-approved, I guess.”

Bucky didn’t argue. Neither did Peter. 

Steve's imaginary painter adds the softest pink back to Steve’s cheeks as you compile a mess of blankets and pillows for him.

Present Day, 2025, 7:15 am

     There’s a warmth near you as you begin to lazily shuffle against the sheets, heavy on your chest but comfortable all in all. 

There are no worries, no sudden bursts of Avenger business, no fights needing to be fought. Simply Steve warm against you with sunlight draping over his bare and freckled shoulders. 

The serum enhanced for the sole purpose of strength and survival. And sure, it healed the body quicker than the average human body could naturally, but the one thing it couldn’t do was strip personality. 

Steve had freckles splattered along his broad shoulders and down to in between his shoulder blades, light in color and all similar in size. Something a lot of people hated about themselves and tried to cover up while others tried to mimic. The serum was supposed to heal damaged skin, sunburnt areas, birthmarks, and even moles - at least, that’s what the official 1943 report had claimed. 

But over the years, Steve had continued to age and grow into his new body. And while he couldn’t get dangerously sick anymore, anything unknown could still occur. No one had the same serum as Steve and last Tony had heard, Peggy had spilled the last remnants of Steve’s original DNA (blood they took before the procedure) in the Hudson. Bucky seemed to be experiencing the same natural changes as well. 

It had been proven that neither Steve nor Bucky could carry or transmit diseases, experience abnormal cell production, nor could they develop a lifelong ailment without severe reason. 

So imagine everyone’s surprise when Clint called one morning while deep in a routine mission (somewhere in Africa, you really don’t remember) to relay the news that, ‘you guys aren’t gonna fucking believe this - yeah Rogers, I’m telling them the hilarious news right now - Steve’s appendix just up and exploded last night - hey! He just stole - hold on. Give me back my hearing aid, you abelist fuck!’. 

Steve had stretch marks on his back from the procedure, his elbow still hurt from time to time after he had snapped it a year ago, and the white scar above his right hip reminded him that even super soldiers are not exempt from the wonders of the appendix. 

His breathing was slow and his eyelids flickered. Seemed he was enjoying his first deep sleep in a while. You craned your neck to try and read the cable box across the room, slightly making out a seven in the front before you gave up. You were due for your annual eye appointment, anyway. 

Steve did have perfect eyesight though, so damn him.

You shrugged the sheets from your arms. He was on his stomach, cheek planted on your chest and right foot dangling off the side of the bed. His left arm was draped over your middle and his right was tucked inside a pillowcase. His hair draped over his forehead and some of it was still tucked behind his ears. 

Careful to not wake him, you gently traced the ridge of his nose with your index finger, resting it on the tip that always turned bright pink regardless of mood. Once at the end, you went back up to trace it again. 

“Beak,” you whispered more to yourself, and you bit your lip to suppress the overwhelming urge to giggle. 

Steve was here, next to and near you, and he was so warm. 

You could have stayed in bed for hours, sleeping and cuddling and fucking, and you would bet your left kidney that Steve wanted that too. It was impossible to question it, it had to be, because Steve was too genuine. You had met hundreds of men in your life: some the literal devil, some cowards, some reserved, and rarely, some genuine at heart. Steve fit some category that didn’t even exist. 

You wanted to love him and hate him. You wanted to make love and fuck him. You wanted to kiss him and annoy him. He checked a box that didn’t exist but that you would just have to reserve for him. The annoying little shit who could lift Thor’s hammer. 

The door almost ripped off its hinges by the brute force of someone’s leg. You didn’t even fully register being crushed by Steve until his elbow stabbed you right in the gut. 

“Rogers!” you groaned in pain and half trying to reach for your pistol on the bedside table. 

There was a collective gasp of surprise (and maybe terror) from the people that just broke down your door. After yesterday’s unplanned run-in with Ramirez, no doubt this was called-for.

“Oh, hell…” Sam grumbled, lowering his gun the second he realized two of his friends were sharing one bed. “Lemme guess, the other bed’s mattress was too firm but this one’s just right.”

Bucky stood behind him, a knowing smirk plastered on his smug face. He looked between you and Steve, ignoring the way Scott was practically pulling his shoulder down in pure fits of laughter. Didn’t take much for Scott to tip himself over and almost drag Bucky down with him. 

“Couldn’t you knock?” Steve nearly yelled, body still trying to shield yours even though you were fully dressed. You were struggling to push him away in pure embarrassment, but he seemed intent with this form of protection. 

“You weren’t answering your phone! We changed our check-in times to seven instead of eight, remember?”

Steve, ever the gentleman, brought the sheets up higher for you and finally lifted himself out of bed. 

And Bucky, ever the gentleman who has been spending way too much time with Clint, nodded his head toward you. “You two fuck?”

Mouth dropping in humiliation, you pulled the sheets up over your head and screamed into the temporary cover. Steve sputtered over whatever explanation he was thinking of pulling out of his ass. 

“You two fucked,” Bucky smugly confirmed. 

Steve pulled on the nearest shirt and went to kick Scott, who was ‘criss-cross apple-sauced’ on the floor and laughing way too loudly. “Is it really any of your business?”

“Man, that’s an answer!” Sam was about to fall into the same fit as Scott. 

Annoyed, and fueled by that annoyance, you ripped the sheets off and marched for the bathroom. “You really want to know, you nosy little fucks? We did fuck and he made me come three times. Ask him how, I’m sure he’ll teach you a thing or two, no matter how embarrassed he may seem right now.”

You left him alone. You literally just exposed him and you left him alone with the wolves. 

All was quiet until Sam blew a small raspberry. “Three times?”

     Bucky didn’t need to speak to show he was about to tease the hell out of you. He simply sipped his coffee until he emptied it, and then refilled it. You couldn’t even finish a single mug yet because you were waiting to break the tension. 

Looking around the hotel bar because he still valued your privacy, Bucky made sure to keep his voice low. “Three times?”

Half wanting to slap the smirk off his face and the other half wanting to announce Steve’s naughty accomplishment, you settled for pouring more coffee into your mug. 

“Don’t you dare hold what I said against me, I literally had just woken up.”

“Mm, yeah. I remember how you literally moaned Thor’s name when you were startled awake from a nap in the living room.”

“Bucky!” you yelled, turning your shoulders inwards when you received a few odd looks from other early risers. Well, some were early risers. The person closest to the door was an agent, as was the other eating breakfast at the bar. “You promised you would never mention that again!”

He shook his head with amusement, “I can’t believe you swore me to secrecy when Loki basically told everyone.”

“He-!” Choking on your own spit, you slid lower into your booth. “That mischievous, conniving, son of a bitch.”

“In all honesty, I think that was his way of flirting with you.”

“Telling everyone I had a wet dream about his brother?”

“Oh, you wouldn’t be the first.”

You smirked, “Oh, trust me. I know.”

Bucky squinted, guilty in his spoken words. “All I’m saying is, it’s nice that you didn’t just write Steve off with us, as if nothing happened.”

It made your heart swell that even in a moment with you, Bucky would still always protect Steve. 

“I would never. We actually talked last night and he really apologized.”

“Really?” His eyes were hopeful. 

“He did. And as cliche as it sounds, one thing led to another.”

You realized your earlier words were contradictory when Bucky sighed sadly, “This better not have been a one time thing. I’ll strangle you both.”

You scoffed and finally took a piece of that blueberry muffin on your plate. “Screw you, Barnes. It’s Steve we’re talking about. I’d give him the world if I could.”

That made Bucky blush. “God, I’m stupidly happy for him. I always said he’d need to find a dame who had as big of a mouth as he does.”

Rolling your eyes, you offered him some of that muffin. He gladly broke off a piece. “Don’t go marrying us off just yet.”

“Doll, he almost imploded when we discovered you slept together. Teasing him about proposing might just kill him.”

You laughed at that. Although Steve had admitted he regretted the time you lost, there wasn’t any chance he would push you any further. He was probably comfortable with taking things slow, no matter the history. You had that in common. 

“Seems we’re all just gonna have to make sure we don’t cause his demise.”

Smiling as he chewed, Bucky played with your feet under the table. Safe moments like these always occurred before a mission, no matter how simple or heavy they were. And like people love to say, you never fought with each other before. Just in case. 

Going to bed angry was another thing entirely. That, the whole team was proficient in. 

“You ready for tonight?”

Yesterday had definitely turned you against the very concept of family reunions, what with the small ache between your shoulders. You were angry with Seda, with Ernesto, disappointed with Ramirez, and neutral toward your sister. 

God, your sister. This would be the first time since you left Mexico for school and SHIELD that you would be seeing her, as well as your other siblings. Jackeline was perhaps the only sibling you had some real memories with. Everyone else was already deep in the business or far away from the chaos. The team only knew of two other siblings who rsvp’d. The others: radio silence. 

“Part of me just wants a normal family wedding. I’m kinda hoping we can just end it all tonight.”

“Be careful what you wish for,” Bucky chuckled, finishing off your muffin for you. “You’ll get some closure soon enough.”

There was no such thing as closure. Just less of a constant sting. 

“Bucky,” you spoke seriously now. “My father made Steve sign something yesterday.”

“He told us at the debrief yesterday.”

“When did you have a debrief?”

Bucky scooted in his booth, quickly explaining. “Uh well, it wasn’t so much of a debrief as it was a simple overview. Just a heads up.”

You tilted your head, somewhat unconvinced. “Uh-huh… but we could void it, right? He had a fucking notary there and everything.”

“We can declare it void, yeah Y/N,” he grabbed your hand over the table. “He won’t get tangled in this.”

With a heavy sigh, you gripped Bucky’s hand tighter. “I’m really glad you guys are gonna help us.”

He returned your smile. “Anything for family.”

Family. 

After all these years of self-hatred and despising your own blood, you blinded yourself of the simple truth that you already had a real family. Whether you were accepted after Sokovia, or after you helped Steve escape with Bucky, or after those long five years, you were accepted. And you accepted them right back. 

    The briefing goes as expected. Didn’t seem like anyone was going to live down the now obvious fact that you and Steve had slept together after years of unnoticed pining. You simply took the teasing in stride, better than Steve even, who stuffed his face full of chips in embarrassment.

The plan was simple but ever-evolving. The three of them will hang back: Bucky at the hotel, Scott and Sam at the nearby base with Torres. The base was fifteen minutes from the estate, hidden behind those same pine trees but the perfect cover - it was a nearby diner. Steve will still take the shield, FRIDAY was installed on your personal phones, and any weapons you attached to your person were specifically made to deter metal detectors. Once in, it was mingle, mingle, mingle.

There were going to be a thousand questions to answer: What in the world is Captain America doing here? Is he here to cause trouble? Are you two seriously dating? So, Captain America being one of us means holding Thor’s hammer was a myth, aye?

Then you would move on to the more important guests. Jackeline’s greeting would be more of a reunion. But flying under and over the radar had to walk the same line - you needed to mix in with the crowd and make sure they see you participating, but then escape for a little while to continue the mission.

Once in, the task was to electronically and physically retrieve everything Scott didn’t have time to yesterday, plus the new information Ernesto got for today and tomorrow. His latest emails, list of contacts, checks, birth certificates, video evidence.

“Do we all know our duties?”

You wanted to wrap up Steve’s commanding voice and keep it a special secret, a secret that was yours and the team’s to share.

“We got it, Cap. For the tenth time this week - you two okay?”

Sam was rewarded with a slanted smile. “Everytime you ask me that, I’ll lie.”

He nods, “At least you admit it. You’re not alone in this.”

“For years,” you continued, “It’s been that way. I guess I’m both ready for it to end and not. I want them behind bars. I don’t want the repercussions.”

“Makes sense,” Bucky agrees. “At least part of the fight will be over.”

Beside you, Steve clenches his jaw. “We’re always fighting.”

Bucky grins at him, “Yeah.” There’s a sparkle in his eye as he leans forward to squeeze Steve’s thigh. “At least it’s not with each other anymore.”

     They weren’t lying when they said vibranium was lightweight. Felt different from nano-tech and was an obvious change from your regular body suit. You felt protected and stylish. Good, because even though you weren’t obligated to impress those vultures, there were still a few cousins and extended family members you wanted compliments from. And?

The black turtleneck was warmer than you expected and didn’t strangle you. You were a bundle of velvet bliss right now. The cuffs were a golden brown, completely made from vibranium. Modeling in the mirror, you whispered a few ‘pew-pew’s as you blocked pretend bullets. C’mon, golden bracelets? You were basically Wonder Woman. 

The tights were your own, thin and black and you could still see there were faint bruises on your knees from training. Once all that was situated, you pulled on the long skirt and tucked in the bottom of your shirt, glad the way the high-waisted design sucked everything in. The skirt was the same golden brown as the cuffs, shorter in the front and wavy as it draped down the back, barely reaching your ankles. You tied the skirt’s belt in a tight bow and pulled on the black boots Shuri had also sent you. The heel was thick and short, and the boot was pretty tight around the top of your ankle. 

Time was ticking on that well-deserved goody basket you were meaning to send to the royal siblings. 

Hoop earrings, three rings dressing your left hand, a simple golden necklace - now you need to do your hair and make-up. 

Steve was just patiently waiting for his turn in the bathroom, bless his heart. 

     “Scott said the files are in his personal belongings. We suspect he’s planning to smuggle over fifty people tomorrow. Their records should be hidden away in those belongings, too.” 

Sam always kept a leveled head in dire situations like these. He was rational and helpful, always waited until the job was done and everyone was safe before he had a drink or a cry. It was safest, perhaps the most fair thing the Avengers could do for the public after destroying half the cities they fought in. The media didn’t need to know about the late-night fights, alcohol poisoning, or frequent therapy sessions. Your coping methods were all different - Steve has no doubt Sam will immediately pack an overnight bag and Bucky to visit his sister and nephews once the wedding concluded. 

Steve? Well, Steve was surprisingly calm, all things considered. 

“You get any hits yet? Anything from Ramirez that could help us find those people sooner?”

Sam sighs sadly, shaking his head. “It’s looking like we’re heading into a full-on fight.”

That’s not what Steve wanted to hear. A ‘full-on’ fight almost always had accidents, misfires, innocent casualties, and a few cuts and scrapes to add to his own personal collection. 

“Sam,” Steve puts down the files in his hand and shuts off his monitor to signal he’s done researching for the night. “I really don’t know how to thank you.”

“You know,” Sam smiles at him, “I’m gettin’ real tired hearin’ you say that.”

Steve huffs out a laugh. Sam gently exhales - Steve can feel it. 

“You two really are the same.” Sam points at Steve and to the bathroom door. “Always apologizing for shit you can’t control.”

Steve looks down to his feet, a blush in his pale cheeks. After failing to clip his cufflinks on his own, he holds his arms out to Sam who happily clips them for him. 

“Is it real?”

Steve pauses. He doesn’t really need to think about it because he knows. He’s known for a while even if he was on autopilot. The pause only serves to help him catch his breath from the happy prickle that crawls up his spine. “As real as second chances go.”

Sam laughs and claps his shoulder, “I get it. We seem to get a hell of a lotta those.”

      Now that the mission was truly kicking into gear, fucking full speed ahead, Steve had no other choice but to pull shreds of Captain America from that metaphorical attic of his. Took everything in him to revert back, never fully, and each time would be different from the last. Sometimes it was mentally draining being responsible for a whole team and creating the plans, other times he regretfully felt like a colonizer, an intruder who followed orders from the top and was forced to execute them. This time around, he was stepping into uncharted territory, but still familiar, and he had a million roles to mime. 

“Steeeve.”

His smile was instant and he gravitated to your voice. “Hmm?”

“So, I have an idea for a hairstyle,” you reply, throwing open the bathroom door with a brush in one hand and the other holding the top layers of your hair up. “I got enough hair for it.”

“Tell me about it. It gets in the way of everything.”

“Haha.” You rolled your eyes, still trying to shovel more hair higher. “I curled it, so all I gotta do is tug this upper half up into a ponytail while the rest stays down. But can you help? My shoulders still hurt and I haven’t taken my advil yet.”

Steve shuffles back into the room to grab you two pills before he replaces his hands with yours. “So, just lift it up?”

You hum confirmation, watching Steve in the mirror as he pulled your thick curls higher, snapped the hair tie between his teeth, and tied it all. He pulled the strands outward so the high curls still fell around your face. The hairstyle would have been easier with extensions (for a much fuller look) but if you had to throw your body around these next two days, you’d rather save yourself the embarrassment of having them pulled off. 

“Thank you,” you blush. These moments were so intimate, so sweet, just you and Steve. “You need any help?”

Steve looks down at himself. He had already tied his own tie. He could style his own hair and comb his beard. “I think I’m good. Forgot to pack cologne, though.”

“I’ve got some perfume in my suitcase. There should be one in there that isn’t too flowery.”

Steve rolls his eyes and turns to leave. “Not really a problem, doll.”

Pulling on his suit jacket and reaching for your suitcase to set it on the bed, he miscalculated the balance he was so obviously lacking. Instead of toppling head first himself, he fumbles your suitcase and spills its contents on your bed. He stills for a second, looking to the closed bathroom door to see if you popped your head through to ask what the hell that sound was. But it remained closed, and Steve silently groaned because of his clumsiness. 

He tries his best to roll the clothing items back in, cursing whenever he would accidentally squeeze a perfume bottle you had hidden in there. He counted three. The one he picks smells like roses.

Amongst the ruins he finds your passport, multiple IDs, and two pairs of sunglasses. He chuckles to himself and thinks, we’ve been here for four days and she hasn’t worn these once.

A torn piece of paper stood out from the pile, folded neatly in its own envelope but still damaged. 

     CLINT

Curious, Steve opens the envelope, wholeheartedly expecting to find the written contents from the archer himself, but pauses when he reads the simple sentence, in your handwriting. 

‘After careful deliberation, I have come to the conclusion that I want you to have all my video games.’

If Steve didn’t know any better, and judging by the multiple other letters peeking through the torn tape from the corner of your suitcase, it sounded like a goodbye letter.

“What’s taking so long?”

Startled, Steve shoves the letter under the pile of clothes. “Uh, my clumsy ass spilled your clothes everywhere so I’m being good and fixing everything.”

“...annoying.”

Still, you stayed inside the bathroom.

He glanced back just to make sure. And he knew he shouldn’t be snooping, the guilt was already eating away at him, but he now noticed the lump under the torn tape and another envelope poking through. 

They were all signed for different people. Bucky, Wanda, Peter, Rhodey - 

The devil on his shoulder drowned the cries of the angel. 

Opening his, he prays for his quick reading skills to aid him before you realized what he was doing.       

Steve, 

     Believe when I say that I thought I would put a bullet in my father before he could. Whoops…

I don’t really know why I’m writing these letters besides the thrill of morbidity for my untimely death or because I’m an amateur writer on the side. I never know what to say to you, anyway. Whether it’s in person or on paper. I’ve got a hundred drawn-up speeches in my head I almost say to you. But they don’t come out when I want them to and it seems a bit much to write out the words to several imaginary crumpled pieces of paper. 

This will have to do. 

Steve, I know for a fact, deep in whatever soul I have left, that you are a good man. 

When the world fell apart, I held on to you. I don’t know why. Natasha bugged me about it, sent me those signature smirks of hers whenever we did anything remotely weird. She believed something was going on between us and I would get so angry with her because it was like she saw something I couldn’t. And I wanted to see it. Wrap it up for myself and live in the softness.

You slept by my side when I would ask, you let me look through your private sketchbook to help ease my mind, and you would jump at every chance to shield me from danger. Even when you know I can take care of myself. I don't know how many times I have to remind you. 

I don’t understand why you shut me out after we brought our friends back. And at the time, it hurt like hell. I literally wanted to kill you and then myself. It made no sense, it still doesn’t. I won’t lie and say it still surprises me or that it no longer hurts. ‘Cause I’m numb to it now and the pain is more of a dull ache. 

But I guess you had your reasons, no matter how hurtful, how ridiculous, no matter how stupid. 

Fuck, why didn’t you get some of that life Tony had always wanted for you? The question eats me alive. Maybe you did move on, maybe you would miss us too much, I truly don’t know. When you confessed to wanting some form of that life when we rescued Wanda, it just confused me more.

Then my father basically declared war and you cut me out. I can’t help but think you stayed behind to help me finish this, what with that righteous streak of yours, but if it is the case, then I am so sorry. 

You deserve to live, Steve. 

Guess what I really want to close with is this: find that life you always wanted. Buy a boat, or a cabin in the secluded woods and become a lumberjack, travel, open your own art museum - hell, erase all traces of your identity and sell painted landscapes for a living. 

In any form you find it, just try. You know I’m always rooting for you, and I’m always by your side. No matter how annoying and smart-mouthed you may be. 

There’s nowhere in the world I’d rather be than here, there, and everywhere with you. 

With as much love in me, 

    The swirl of your name leaves him disoriented, and slightly paralyzed. Steve licks the envelope closed.    

     Steve puts the very existence and contents of your letter to the back of his mind for the time being. He doesn’t have time to dwell on it, no time to dissect it word for word. He’ll focus on it later. He still doesn’t know what reaction he should be experiencing. The letter was unexpected, yes, but it’s the matter of you writing a goodbye letter - as if you weren’t going to make it out of here alive. And that about saws Steve in two. 

Steve thinks the elevator comes too fast and wonders what he could do to stop time. The mics on your neck generate enough noise for you to hear the static on the other end. No one is currently online, and Steve cherishes the little moments he’s getting before having to transition into ‘Captain America’ mode. 

There wasn’t much time today to truly bask in the afterglow. The moment the elevator opens Steve literally drags you inside and captures your lips in a rather chaste kiss. It surprises you momentarily but you’re responding, and it’s fluid and familiar. The kiss is brief, but it feels as if your years mold into this single act, and Steve’s smiling wider than he has today when the first thing you say as you part is that maybe you chose the wrong shade of lipstick because it looks too damn dark on his lips.

The elevator reaches the ground floor and he looks over at you one last time in the privacy you’re afforded. He’s got that good ache in his chest again and it’s both calming and a little bittersweet, because staring at you is like staring at the sun - it hurts to look at for a long time but oh, so tempting. 

   The lawn was separated into two halves with only one fully decorated and the other still under a tarp, hidden because it was mid-construction and to not spoil the surprise. Over to the side, just left of the large lake, there was an extra tarp the workers were manning in case the clouds in the sky decided to cry. 

Jackeline had chosen violet as her main color scheme, with golden hues stitched alongside. The flowers, soft lights, marble floor, and desserts were all violet; the curtains and tarps, plates and glasses, flowers on the wall, and Jackeline’s rehearsal dress were all gold. Ernesto must have spent over a million dollars in the decorations alone. 

Everyone donned their best designers and since only family was in attendance today, the little amount of people were easily outdone one right after the other. In total, there were fifteen guests, and that included you and Steve: Ernesto, Seda, the groom’s father, Jackeline’s mother, two of your half-brothers, three aunts (sister’s of Ernesto), two cousins, the maid of honor, and Marcus White. 

They have already fawned over Steve, some with a major guard up as expected, but as Ernesto explains the specifics, everyone becomes more pleased than weary. ‘It was just too good to be true that the Avengers were all good’, someone announces. Steve grips your hand just a little tighter. 

The mere absence of Ramirez was enough of an answer: he really was going to be eliminated.

Across from your private corner, cheers and claps sound as the happy couple finally emerges. Even your father leaves mid-conversation to go greet her. 

She’s a fifties masterpiece. Her dark hair cascades in uneven but gentle layers, framing her face and she’s both glossy and matte. Her skin is darker and her eyebrows are fuller, widow’ peak and strong jaw, thin neck and perfectly rounded shoulders. She has a painted blush on her high cheekbones, dark eyeshadow and a faint cat eye, and the reddest, fullest lips that are already spitting wit as she greets her more serious guests. Her voice is high but steady and she’s so obviously the center of attention, she’s the literal bride, but you bet she could take over the room even if she wasn’t. Her fiancé, surprisingly enough, trails behind her as if he too is in a trance, greeting the same guests and attempting to match her enthusiasm. She’s making herself known, and she’s succeeding.

It isn’t until she locks her sight on you that Steve finally mumbles a quiet ‘woah’ underneath a shaky breath and you can’t blame him, dear god you can’t, because seeing her for the first time in six years is eating away at you. She’s nineteen, young and sweet, and still trapped in the world you were planning to destroy.   

Her first reaction is to run into your arms and hold you tightly, the force swinging you from side to side. Her giggles are contagious and you find yourself reacting similarly, grip tightening as she begins to ramble about how much she missed you and how proud she is that you have saved the world ten times over. The statement is overwhelming, but you find yourself nodding along in place of anything verbal.

Steve is patient as he witnesses this family reunion, standing at your side with respect and a tint of scarlet staining his cheeks. Finally, Jackeline turns to greet him and for a scary second, Steve sees Peggy.

“No way!” She keeps her voice low. “I could have sworn my bit-... uh, my bunch of tias were lying about you really being here.”

Steve shakes the fifties image from his head. The resemblance, even if Jackeline has more slanted eyes and a larger forehead, is uncanny. “Thank you so much for inviting us. The ride up was a bitch but we made the most of it.”

Jackeline stutters over her own laugh. “Oh.” She looks to you with a wide grin. “Oh, he’s a keeper.”

“Thought so myself,” you grin back. “You should hear him swear during a football game.”

“All men turn into animals when their teams don’t live up to expectations.”

Her accent is thicker than yours. Living in New York for over 10 years definitely helped smooth over some dialect and create your own voice. But Jackeline’s, considering she had never lived outside of Mexico, was thick and silky and resembled a place you no longer called home.

She pulls the man behind her forward, effectively interrupting and ending the conversation he was having with one of your cousins. “This is Julian. Julian, this is my one and only sister and her boyfriend!”

Julian, bless his heart, holds out a slightly shaking hand for you to shake. You do so, and try to convey calmness through it. When you watch his glance fall to Steve and feel his hand start to shake yours more rapidly, you can’t help but stifle a laugh.

“It’s an honor!” Julian finally says, voice deep and wracked with some nerves. He shakes Steve’s hand when he gets the chance. “Captain.”

“Please,” Jackeline rolls her eyes. “He’s just like us! You should be swooning over my sister, who is probably going to be the one to kill you if you ever hurt me.”

Julian blinks. His eyes go from Steve to you, contemplating his next move without wanting to seem rude. He nods in your direction. “I don’t doubt you would. Excuse me if I came off as rude. I’m just starstruck by this one here, is all.”

His accent matches Jackeline’s.

Steve waves his hand through the air. “You are not the first tonight, son.”

Sometimes you forget that Steve is an old man. Biologically, he’s in his mid-thirties. Ever changing and growing old as normal, but his soul is old. From a different time and out of it. The mere nickname he just gave Julian, no doubt because of his young age, leaves you averting your eyes and turning away to smile up at one of the many golden chandeliers.

“I really hope you enjoy tonight. The party may seem small right now, but trust me, half of Mexico will be dancing with us tomorrow night.” Jackeline bounces in place, hand intertwining with Julian’s, and she leans in to speak more clearly with you. “Meet me later? We have so much to catch up on.”

Agreeing, you watch the happy couple leave to converse with the few other guests.

Steve turns toward you, eyes squinted in amusement. “Is she really cheating on him with a man of the cloth?”

You can’t help the involuntary snort that leaves your nose. “The photos were watermarked, right? Time stamped? Maybe they’re old.”

Steve huffs a laugh and grabs two champagne glasses as the tray flies by him. “She’s got a way about her. Reminds me of a dame from this book I read a while back.”

Sipping your drink, you ponder. “What book?”

“The one where the dude gets shot at the end.”

“Oh, you mean every book from the 20th century?”

Steve laughs, “That twenties one!”

Mouth dropping, you push at his chest and turn to walk away. “You did not just compare her to Daisy from The Great Gatsby!”

Steve follows. “That’s the one! Honest! She has this way about her!”

    It’s not long after a few dances and photographs that you’re all seated for the actual dinner. There are three long tables, two parallel to each other and the main one perpendicular. You don’t know if it’s a power move or whatever, but your name cards are placed on one of the parallel tables. But it doesn’t bother you much since you have a front view of Seda and your father. 

Dinner is a six-course meal. Not that you assumed any different - Ernesto really went all out for his youngest child (that you know of). Your mics are picking up conversations left and right so you’re actually able to enjoy the meal. Salad, soup, a weird looking appetizer that’s actually quite delicious, the main course of either chicken/fish/or steak, and two desserts. All throughout, Steve is actually having the time of his life being fed so well. 

“Answer me this,” Steve leans in to whisper in your ear. “Are those hearts or paper airplanes hanging from the ceiling?”

You smiled against the ridge of your champagne glass, “You mean those clay flowers?”

“Is that what they are?” He pauses for a long second, squinting.

“Are your eyes going bad?” 

“Eyes don’t go bad.”

Your mouth falls open. “Your eyes are going bad!”

“Again,” Steve holds up a finger. “My eyes are just fine, not bad.”

Something else to add to that list you had made in the morning.

“This is fucking fantastic.”

Steve, still trying to casually squint, huffs. “Annoying...”

You bump his shoulder and lean in to whisper quietly. “Turns you on.”

Steve just blushes.

    It’s like he forgets where he is for a second, what with the great food and surprisingly good conversation with one of your brothers beside him. Steve’s already built a much stronger rapport with the thirty-something year old man than you have. There’s a stab of guilt for a second, a need to duck and drown in shame, when you realize you can’t even remember his name.

Ernesto stands to announce toasts. His is brief and not all that fatherly, but it’s the longest you’ve heard him string some nice words together. Seda follows, brief as well, and includes a childhood anecdote about her. Jackeline’s mother is a young woman, somewhere between forty and fifty, and her toast is only a sentence long - ‘Solo quiero que estas contenta, mi amor.’ For the first time tonight, Bucky voices his thoughts over the mic with a quiet and sad sounding hum.

Ernesto lifts himself from his chair, swatting away his men who go to help him. He has the microphone again and he’s walking toward you, face neutral. You know better than to refuse in front of this big of a crowd. Steve squeezes your hand before you stand and he remains beaming up at you from his seat. 

You’ve seen it in the movies - raise the glass, say some words, end it nicely. It’s what you do. But it feels surreal, almost unnerving when you don’t recognize the faces looking back at you. 

     “Here’s to you,” you lift your champagne glass, looking around at the happy yet solemn faces at the small table. 

“You deserve all the happiness available to you. You are so lucky to have each other,” you finish the toast and drink your whole glass. There is no applause, just sad smiles in response. You’re not asking for much, you never had.

Tony and Pepper share a quick kiss, thanking everyone around the table quickly as the two cakes are being cut. Their wedding was limited, with only a few people in attendance. Whoever was left. Tony’s cabin could obviously accommodate more people, but he had only requested the gathering of those he could stomach to see. But when that turned out to only be Pepper and Happy, he was forced to open the doors to more. 

So, you accepted your chocolate cake from Rhodey as he handed it to you. Shared some quick chit-chat with Steve and Natasha; greeted Thor as he made his first appearance in a while, hair now longer and baggy clothes hanging from his body, a tortured smile on his aging face; and sat through Happy’s own speech, enjoying his refreshing and joyful attitude. 

But now you stood in front of the kitchen sink, staring at the hidden picture frame behind the mugs - a reminder of what was really missing from this special day. 

You studied Peter’s awkward smile and demeanor, his expression youthful and frozen in time. He became foggy, silver clouds blotting his cheeks and his hair went white, and soon the sink sounded with a tiny ‘clunk!’ as you wept silently. 

You felt a hand slide into your own, squeezing with care and understanding. You looked up to see Steve, his eyes watching your face. He gave you one more gentle squeeze, the same tortured smile as Thor’s on his beautiful face, and walked to his room to retire for the night. 

     Glass raised in the air, you swallow in hopes of not choking over any word because of your nerves. 

“Here’s to you,” you start, already deciding this was going to be like pulling a band-aid. “May this world treat you kind, and that you are kind to each other, and that it’s all that matters.”

Steve forgets to drink. He can’t seem to shake the feeling of wanting to cry.

     Everyone watches as Steve leads you onto the dance floor which is intimidating with its glittering violet light and marble that resembles polished glass. If these were the decorations for the rehearsal dinner, Steve can’t even begin to bet on how tomorrow’s going to look. 

Steve holds you close, one arm wrapped around your waist and the other framing your spine. It’s like a tight hug. “Do you enjoy dancing?”

You step on his foot once again. “Shut up, Steve. Tell me your real thoughts.”

“Who, me?”

“Steve.”

“You suck at dancing.”

“There it is.”

     It isn’t hard to sneak away once everyone piles onto the dance floor. Steve shares a few dances with your aunts before excusing himself to use the bathroom. 

The mission itself goes rather smoothly. Infiltrating and collecting information was childsplay. Amateur. You’ve done it a thousand times and your father isn’t exactly a tech wizard. Neither is Seda. 

You find the electronic bank records Scott couldn’t yesterday, as well as a detailed spreadsheet (more like a hitlist) dating ten years back. In the same file, this actually only slightly encrypted (slightly), are the names of high-level players involved. It’s color-coded, some names familiar because of their involvement with Hydra, and it’s only a matter of seconds before you notice that red means eliminated, black means still at large, and blue means ally. 

There’s a lump in your throat as you scroll through and find Steve’s name, thankfully in blue. It’s expected, so you simply move on, until you find yours. And it’s in black. 

It should terrify you, have you running for the hills and tucking your tail between your legs but you’re won’t because Steve’s name is blue. 

That’s all that matters. 

There’s still no concrete information about the shipment, nothing online or on a loose post-it note. It’s non-existent and that’s suspicious and you don’t know why you don’t voice that to Steve. He’s listening at the door and responding to Sam’s questions. You and Scott are the hackers of the group after all. 

You scan through drawers and cabinets, snapping photos of things you can’t take just yet and filing the papers you can. Papers detailing contracts and miscellaneous connections: lawyers, doctors, politicians, police. Once that’s done, you shrink the evidence to the size of a fingernail with the help of Scott’s tech and hide it in your bra. 

Surprisingly enough, the two of you are able to slip out of the office and the first couple living rooms undetected. Until Jackeline herself appears, pulling down her dress as she exits the bathroom. Steve, stunned by the presence of anyone, pulls you toward his chest with unfocused strength. You hiss loudly and naturally go to cup your injured elbow. It takes a moment for Steve to realize what he’s done and who he’s done it to. 

Jackeline nearly stumbles over her heels out of pure clumsiness but her mouth parts as she notices you and the harsh sound you make. If she truly saw or heard anything, she’s keeping it to herself it seems. 

“Ernesto wanted to see me before we called it a night,” Steve says, letting go of your arm and taking a step back. He doesn’t outright say he’s sorry; he doesn’t know if he’s allowed to. So he braves a smile, sends you a look, and excuses himself. 

No conversation ever comes naturally - or, rather they take at least minimal effort from either party. You say the first thing you can think of and that’s to congratulate her again. 

Your rambling sort of sounds like the toast you gave earlier, but Jackeline either doesn’t want to embarrass you or simply doesn’t notice. She waits for the pause in your voice before she finally speaks.

“Before I start, don’t hate me for this.”

“That’s not a good way to start a sente-” Your face is smacked to the side absurdly hard and you can feel the sting at the base of your neck. You look back at your sister with wide eyes.

“You couldn’t leave the world dead? He was finally dead!”

Baffled, you rub at your sore cheek. “Why am I the one getting the most blame for that? I followed a fucking raccoon around and I didn’t even snap my fingers!”

“Sorry,” she blinks, eyebrows scrunching as she thinks of the next thing to say. “Sorry, I just… it was that easy to kill him and then he just… wasn’t.”

“I don’t know if you noticed, but you were also dead.”

“I was.”

“And we brought back trillions.”

“I know.”

Never once did you wonder what your siblings might have thought. More than half of them were separated from this life, while a few remained and conquered their allowed sectors. Ernesto had never discussed which of his children would take over his seat. But when he was dusted and Seda assumed power, it was clear not one sibling wanted anything to do with it. Or they were just too scared to outright disobey Seda and his tyranny.

Jackeline stands tall, shoulders straight and chin held high. She didn’t seem to worry about the repercussions of her actions - she knows who you are and what you are capable of. The smack seemed deliberate but restrained.

“So?” It’s the only word you can muster up.

“Please don’t judge me.” Her confidence falters and her eyebrows push down even further. “I know you know.”

“You gotta spell it out because I know a lot of things.”

Sighing deeply, she grabs the hand you’re using to rub at your cheek. She grips it tightly as she speaks. “I love him. But he’s impossible to love now and I can’t do anything about it.”

“Oh, Jackeline…”

You could have contacted her. You were on social media - you could have followed her, maybe messaged her annually - hell, called her once in a while to simply check in. The ticket you got was always a temporary one: go to school and find a way to make the trade routes easier to travel. School finished, you found Fury, and you created an alternate identity and background plan to trick your family into doing just what they ordered. And during all that time, Jackeline was barely in her pre-teens, probably scared and alone and missing her only sister. This was just you throwing that smack out of proportion but there was truth in it all. Wasn’t there?

“Julian’s okay. I agreed to this arranged marriage. I’m sure I can grow to love him,” she shrugs, biting her lip as it begins to quiver.

Her eyes are no longer happy - perhaps that was the wrong word to use after she had just confided in you about the reality of her upcoming union. But they definitely seem more dull in comparison to the joyfulness she presented earlier tonight.

“Jackeline, you don’t have to-”

“No, I was gone those five years. He had to move on.” You drop your shoulders and lean forward to give her a hug. No matter how badly you wanted to wrap your hands around Ernesto’s neck, they had more use tenderly wrapped around your sister. 

Relishing the feeling for only a moment longer, Jackeline is ignited once again. “Besides, I should be telling you that! I saw the way that… that fascist pulled you. If he’s hurting you, I’ll kill him.”

Your eyes must be bulging out of your head. “Oh.” 

She looks at you as if you’re going to admit abuse and confide in her like she did you. “No, it’s okay. Steve’s perfect, he’s… wonderful.”

Jackeline shakes her head rapidly, “Don’t you lie to me. I know what I saw.”

“I’m not lying. But you gotta trust me. I’ll explain later-”

“Explain what?”

Seda breaks the conversation and you forget to curse inwardly. Instead, a mumbled ‘fuck’ is heard. It only serves to fuel the flame. Jackeline flashes a rehearsed smile, and she truly is your sister because for a sad moment she looks exactly like you.

“Explain why she never returned my calls to be my maid of honor! I swear, this one is always so busy she forgets I exist!”

“She is,” Seda agrees, grinning like he already knows what the original conversation was about. “Always busy.” 

Jackeline keeps the same smile and is about to continue fanning the flames when Seda interrupts again. “Jackie, your father wanted me to speak with your sister alone for a moment. It has to do with tomorrow’s shipment.”

“Yes, of course. Don’t keep her for too long, okay? Tomorrow’s a late start but we all need our beauty sleep.” Jackeline leaves and fails to look over her shoulder to double check on you.

Seda steps closer, arms swinging casually like he’s pondering the possibilities of what he could do without Steve present. But instead of focusing solely on him, you listen to the soft sound of Bucky’s voice through the mic as he tells you that he’s listening in and he’s here.

“What did she say to you?”

“Is it really any of your business?”

He snaps immediately, gripping your cheeks in one hand so you can’t move your head. “When will you learn to keep your goddamn mouth shut around me?”

“You asked.” Smacking his hand away would have been frowned upon before, but not anymore. Free reign if need be. “Besides, when will you learn that that will never happen?”

“You can’t believe anything she tells you. Ernesto’s only two daughters are mistakes, both threats to his reign. Never submissive, always asking questions-”

You grunt almost comically, “Men and their irrational fears of women… What did I ever do to you?”

He pauses and you notice how his angry eyes always seem to water from his frustration. “You brought him back.”

“I also brought back trillions.”

“You know,” his face does something unpleasant. “Before Jackeline was dusted, she had been seeing that priest.”

“How could you possibly know-”

“He was so devastated by her loss. Found God, became a changed man.”

“Seda, what are you playing at?”

“She came back.” He lifts one finger. “He couldn’t resist.” He raises another. “Didn’t take long for Ernesto to find out.” The third one is the last, and he mimics a small explosion as he concludes. “But don’t worry, we took care of him.”

You never once believed the Devil was this angry, red demon with horns atop his head and a sharp tail, voice booming as he ruled the underworld with the weapons of pain and suffering. He didn’t possess or haunt random places. If anything, the Devil himself was simply a metaphor, a representation of the evil in a living world. It only made people comfortable to create an image, no matter how ridiculous.

Once you even thought the Devil was Hades, and he wasn’t all that bad when it truly came down to the root of all problems. He oversaw the underworld but he didn’t take life, he didn’t cause the pain, he simply watched and ruled. That maybe Hades was real considering Thor was, and he was just chilling in the underworld bored out of his mind.

But the evil the Devil represented was a constant in this world already, in your life from start to finish, and Seda’s eyes held something unspeakable. Dark brown eyes almost black, left cheek twitching with the urge to smile grotesquely, the tense nature of his broad shoulders. He was no massive man, a few inches taller than you, but he was a giant in a world in which Hades lacked and the Devil persisted.

“But Julian-”

Seda scoffs, “Julian was her rebound. Got mixed up in the business, with Ernesto  - but I don’t doubt he loves Jackeline.”

You’re this close to breaking the man’s fingers. He doesn’t stop counting his supposed triumphs. “When were the pictures taken?”

“Don’t do that,” he laughs as he finally steps away from you. “Ask your real question.”

Your smile was involuntary. So was Seda’s. It was the one thing you had in common: smiling at things that weren’t funny. “Did you threaten him? Torture him? Kill him yet?”

“... Jackeline will never know.”

Your mouth parts slowly like you’re still digesting his words. “You unimaginable bastard.”

If you had to bet, you would have placed all your money on Ernesto being the giant to fear. He had hurt you in countless ways, used you and discarded what he didn’t like, put you in the line of fire for his own gain. He had taken pleasure in knowing you hurt, in knowing what you had lost and suffered. He mocked your sacrifice time and time again. And there was a sentence you had never uttered out loud for fear of what you might do, or what anyone hearing you might do, that Ernesto had said one chilly November night only a year after the world returned. It was a thought so suppressed you almost always forgot it had been real. ‘A shame the Widow did what she did - what an unbelievable asset wasted over something pointless.’

No one outside your circle could possibly understand. They didn’t have to - but to dismiss the main reason he was retaking his tainted throne... insanity. 

But something in Seda’s voice moved even the most dormant areas in your soul. The giant was a man with nothing and everything to lose but with the power to choose which. Staring at him for too long prompted an uncomfortable sting across your waterline like his glare burned. Such a normal looking man with short dark hair and an aging face. He stared at you with a set look, one that told you he knew something you didn’t. Like he controlled giants even bigger than him. He wasn’t Hades, who restrained himself and hid in the shadows of a world he was forced to rule - he was the Devil’s metaphor, with red strains licking his tan skin and eyes sharp enough to puncture.

With a small tilt of his head and a strangled grin, he finally turns to leave. “Have a safe drive home.”

     After saying a quick goodbye to Jackeline and securing the estate, you hurried to get to your car and leave. Ernesto had just sent you a quick nod of the head and reminded Steve he needed to see him again before the wedding started. All your leftover energy literally went into pulling open the passenger door. 

Out of instinct now, you wait until the car is past the gates and a good mile from the hidden entrance before speaking freely.

“We get everything?”

The night is dark and you can barely see the outline of the trees. The sky is covered with gray clouds and there are no lampposts to provide light. It’s really just your headlights. “I think so. I think.”

Steve can sense the hesitancy in your answer. “What’s wrong?”

You shake with an exaggerated shiver, “Seda was being creepy… just more than usual.”

“What do you mean?” Steve was probably communicating and online with Sam during his conversation with Ernesto and completely missed the one you had with Seda.

“Fuckin’ didn’t think it could get weirder, but Jackeline mentioned how this was basically an arranged marriage and then Seda,” you stop suddenly. The uneasiness was creeping back. 

“An arranged marriage? Fuck, what else is this mission going to throw at us?”

‘Captain?’

Steve’s hands accidentally swerve the steering wheel as response to the small fright. “... Was that your phone or mine?”

You fumbled through your mini purse for your phone. “Me. Hey? Friday?”

‘The one and only. I hope that didn’t frighten you because I really need your attention right about now.’

Steve chuckles, eyes straight ahead as he drives. “That doesn’t sound ominous at all.”

‘My readings are picking up something strange. The vehicle, even if I’m not able to virtually connect, seems to be stalling.’ Torres did curse you two before you left for renting a car made before 2013.

“What do you mean? It’s working just fine.” 

You set your phone down on the dash to start looking around the interior of the car.

‘The pedal, yes Captain. But I’m afraid my readings are focused on the brakes.’

You bite your tongue and scrunch up your nose. What else could possibly happen tonight? “That’s always fun to hear, great. Greaaaat.”

“Friday, what are you picking up?” Steve’s voice is more stern and even if he’s not doing it on purpose, he’s trying to ignore your coping mechanism of joking during dire situations.

‘It seems that when they took the vehicle for parking, they attached something to the brake lines. Sort of like a trigger sensor. Do not slow down.’

“We’re stuck? We can’t stop?”

‘Everytime the Captain de-accelerates, the sensor heats up. That’s what my readings are.’

“Fuck,” you unclipped your seatbelt and turned your body toward Steve. “Fuck!”

“Friday, what do we do?” The least Steve could do is be the level-headed one here.

‘Exactly what you’re thinking, Captain. The shield’s in the trunk.’

“We can’t exactly get to it!” You don’t mean to scream at Friday. You’re sure she’s used to adrenaline induced attacks guided toward her and never about her.

‘The burners were produced by Stark Industries for our very own spy unit. They are equipped with a taser, flashlight, and laser.’

Jumping so your feet were planted firmly on the passenger seat, you make sure everything is in place: the stolen files, your gun, your phone, and earpiece. “Keep your foot on that pedal, Rogers. I don’t feel like blowing up tonight.”

He releases a shaky breath, hands turning pale from the grip he has on the steering wheel. “You and me both.”

“Friday?” Your voice is only slightly timid, but you manage to move your body out from the front seats and to the back.

‘The laser, Agent Y/LN. Cut through the seats.’

Nodding along to her instructions, you search for the burner under your skirt and unstrap it from the holster. Pulling its ancient antenna outward, Friday verbally guides you through the very simple instruction. The laser blasts out unexpectedly at first making you squeal, which in turn causes Friday (a literal AI) to chuckle. You’re thankful the antenna was facing the back seats already.

“Doing good back there?”

You respond with a low grunt as you carefully carve out the largest rectangle you can create. “You better have shoved the thing close. Any stop signs up ahead?”

Steve’s getting worried now, but instead of putting you more on edge, he hides it pretty well. “Thank god this place is in the middle of nowhere.”

You don’t even give his response acknowledgement as you finally pull the leather, metal, and weird cushion filling away and spot the shield. “I got it, got it, got it.”

‘My sensors suggest you’ll have a good five seconds to escape the vehicle once the Captain releases the pedal.’

You make sure your hair is in the tightest ponytail known to man and that your skirt is bunched up in your free arm. You strap the shield onto the other. “Steve, you gonna be alright?”

His eyes are still focused on the road, but he braves a look in the mirror back at you. His voice is stern but not demanding. “I know you hate the damn shield but bend your legs, jump sideways, and tuck your head.”

“Yeah,” you nod along. Damn straight you’ll put your hate aside for one second if it’s here to save your life. “You better jump on time, you understand me?”

“Sam,” Steve keeps the speed steady and tries to ignore the way his heart is pounding from the sound of you kicking open the back door. “Sam, Widow. Widow.”

Before you jump, the asphalt a never ending, rapid glare of absolute darkness, you leave your phone on the seat in case Steve still needs her. “Friday, send Sam and Torres our location. They’re the only ones who can fly in undetected. Tell them what you told us.”

‘Will do, Agent Y/LN.’

“Be careful.”

You smirk at him, “Don’t be a hero and crash this one into the ice, yeah?”

You don’t wait for his reaction and instead take the plunge. The shield makes a hard impact with the asphalt down below, screeching for what seems like an eternity before slowing down. You did as instructed: knees tucked into your chest as far as you were able, head doing the same. By the time the ride finally ends and you’ve gone partially deaf, you can make out the sound of a loud explosion a close distance away. The heat from the sudden burst of wind nips at your face. You’ve also gone partially blind. 

Your poor boots are definitely ruined and there’s a faint tell of a bruised ankle in the works. The arm attached to the shield will also need to be popped back into place - it shouldn’t feel this loose. Luckily, your head and torso were completely unscathed. 

Lifting yourself up the best you could without straining anything too much, you noticed the car still in flames but driven off the road. 

“He jumped, he jumped, he jumped,” you repeat, limping as quickly as you could, shield still attached to your arm. The closer you get the clearer everything becomes, regardless of the smoke. “Steve.”

You squint through the orange light and the dark of night. The fire wasn’t all that loud in its crackles and it doesn’t take you long to realize while tapping your ears that you lost your earpiece. 

“Steve,” you try again, adrenaline still pumping but panic seeping in. As if on cue, you can make out his body laying far away from the car relatively unharmed. “Ah, shit.” You drop down on your knees and wince involuntarily. Slapping his cheeks doesn’t wake him up, neither does gently shaking him. You don’t want to do anything to hurt him more. 

The sound of gravel popping kicks you back into spy mode. Hide. This was a hit, of course it was, and they were coming to see their job done. 

“You so owe me,” you groan as you unstrap the shield to throw it into the woods, the faint tell of it hitting a tree enough to make you work faster. You hook your arms underneath Steve’s armpits and bend your knees, breathing in deeply and out a few times before pulling him with all your strength. There’s pain shooting up your arm but you try to ignore it. Small whimpers escape you as you pull harder and finally make it a good distance from the wreckage. You sit Steve, still unconscious, behind one of those massive pine trees and sit next to him after retrieving the shield. 

It’s only two black SUV’s that come to check their hard work. They’re bending down and using their own fire extinguishers, snapping their own photos, the works. It isn’t until Seda walks over to admire the wreckage that you have to bite your bottom lip to keep from screaming. 

You’re seated in front of Steve now with the shield in front of you when a sudden movement to your left startles you. Before you scream, however, a hand covers your mouth. 

“Shh, shh.” Sam. Your eyes fill with tears. 

“I’ve got him. Torres is coming for you, alright? I’m the only one who can carry him out.”

It doesn’t take much to convince you. You’re silently helping Sam strap Steve against his chest as Seda and his men are now investigating the woods. You can hear them close, cursing and yelling about finding you. 

“Go a little further. Down there,” Sam points in front of you. “Torres is parked and waiting. Go.”

“Don’t drop him.” Sam stifles his laugh. 

You follow his directions, limping as quickly as you can, and finally find Torres, your second knight in shining armor of the night. 

    After an all clear from the medical team, Steve is left alone in your hotel room to rest. He still hasn’t woken up but Helen isn’t worried since his scans show no major damage. Small talk with the rest of the team fills in the time but it’s like you’re not really there, merely a participant on a loop. There’s a bitter taste in your mouth and you’re covered in scratches and smoky ash and you can’t shake the feeling of wanting to kill something. 

Your father wanted you dead. And showing up to the wedding was just going to anger him more but it had to be done. But you were tired, so fucking tired, tired to the point where you couldn’t sleep or rest.

You let your hair down but stay in your tattered clothing, making yourself useful as best you can. You answer questions, you review footage, you draft up some reports. Bucky tries to sit you down at one point, but he backs off when you simply shake your head and give him that famous broken smile. 

You’re sitting at your desk trying to save some of your phone’s cloud through the connected email. Sam has already ordered you a new phone. On the computer to your left, you’re scanning and uploading the files you stole tonight. On the right, your little butterfly is transcribing conversations from yesterday. 

The transcription is finished before the uploads. It prints. 

SEDA: ‘Ernesto needs to know how many more women we can get from Jonathon. I thought you said your Italian contact was up to date?’

UNKNOWN: ‘He is. But the women are coming from here instead. Got a load of ten just now.’

SEDA: ‘The shipment goes out during the wedding. Not before, not after. We can’t fuck this up for Ernesto and we cannot have the stars and stripes finding out.’

UNKNOWN: ‘Ernesto plans to mention it to him tomorrow.’

SEDA: ‘Then make sure he keeps quiet about it.’

The bitter taste in your mouth returns and you have to run to the nearest bathroom.

     Steve wakes just an hour after, disoriented but able to discern who he is. “What happened?”

You’re standing at the foot of his bed, having just got there a few minutes before, practically on the verge of tears. “... Did you know?”

There it was. Any hope of truly coming to terms with this new world order or his role in it, any hope of feeling like he did before he succumbed to the American war propaganda and became a science experiment, crumbling before him. The heavy weight that were your shoulders, crumbling like shaky mountains. His own, tense and straining and urging him to get out of bed. 

He’s been in the trenches when the smell of gas and blood clogged his nostrils and made him dizzy. He’s experienced loss a thousand times over, just heinous instances of despair where he swore he was torn in two. He’s lost on his own accord and pretended like the world was still on its axis. 

And he knew his time was up. He just thought he’d have more than a day to enjoy it.  “I was going to tell you.”

It’s like the air is punched out of you. “You knew?”

“Please, listen, please,” he scrambles out of bed.

“What the fuck, Rogers?”

“Ramirez told us yesterday. I swear I only found out yesterday. Yesterday.”

“Yesterday?” You’re stepping away from him. He’s almost on his hands and knees and you’re stepping away from him. “Before?”

Steve makes a pained noise. “Yes, but please-”

“No! You kept this to yourself and you had the fucking audacity to share the same bed as me?”

“Please, let me explain-” He tries to reach out but you side-step him. He reacts like you’ve shot him.

“Don’t touch me, Steve!”

“Please, just let me explain. We all know - Bucky, Sam, Torres, we all know.”

Your face does something he’s never seen it do. “Fuck?”

He’s talking faster now, words just spilling on the floor and into the air and he doesn’t know what else to do. “We’re tracking it. We have a plan set. We were supposed to tell you tomorrow before the wedding.” He stops to take in a breath. “I was going to tell you.”

“You went behind my back.”

“If I would have told you, you would have done something horrible tonight! We need your father alive to find those people!”

Eyes wide in shock and anguish, you step further away from him. Each step was the equivalent of a dagger plunging deep into Steve’s heart, twisting and burning its way to the depths of his vulnerability. He wanted to succumb to the pain - after all, he deserved it.

“That would have been my choice to make!”

Now he pushed forward, shoulders hunched and palms turned upward as if he was pleading for a crumb of understanding. “I was gonna kill him.”

He drops to his knees, arms wrapping around your waist. You remained perfectly still, a tree stump with no cover. “I was gonna shoot him between the eyes when I first found out. But if I had done that, then we would never know the location of those people.”

His weight was pulling you down and you felt his wet cheek against your stomach. “I deserved to know.”

His grip tightened, “You did. But if you would have known-”

“I would have known. Period.”

He had to know how much he weighed. But Steve leaned his body onto yours harder, afraid you would vanish and god forbid turn to dust. It didn’t really register in his mind that, even though he was holding you in place, you weren’t exactly trying to escape his hold either. 

He had let you go once and he’ll be goddamned if he let you go again. 

“It ate me alive. I hated doing this-”

You pushed against his shoulders and sensed his reluctance to let go. Instead, you look down at him and tense your jaw. “Steve, you don’t hate me, do you?”

His face dropped and his grip loosened. You should just slap him across the face, Steve thinks, because how in the world were you thinking that at this moment? Never did he think you would find a way to twist this - to somehow blame yourself for his mistake. Took a long time to see it, but you were just as righteous as he was. It would get you both killed someday. 

“Why do you think that? What in the world would make you think that after all this time? After everything?”

He lets you push him away so he could stand but he makes sure to keep his hands on you. A tangible promise that you are real. 

“You agreed to help me catch a drug lord. You didn’t sign up for this extra mess.”

“We may not always know what we’re up against,” Steve began, sniffing and wiping at his wet face. God, he felt like such a mess. “But I could never fucking hate you. Don’t even think that.”

“You sure?” your voice cracks, hands slightly shaking from the need to touch him too. “Captain America didn’t sign up for this.”

He shakes his head almost violently, “No, no. Don’t go there. I am not him, I haven’t been him in a long time.”

“Steve-”

“No! I’ve hated the title for a while now. I’m done. I’ve hated my reflection for years and years.” The tiny whine in the middle of your throat gurgled and your hands moved instantly to cup his cheeks.  “I represent no one but myself. I’m tired of others thinking I’m the same man from ten years ago, or the same man from the forties, or the same man from last week just because they’re enamored by that star on my chest.”

He tilts his head to lean into your touch, “I am helping you because it’s the honorable thing to do. I signed up for this work, I intend to finish it. Not Captain America, but me - Steve, me.”

“You’re still making me feel like it’s something you have to do.”

“I admit that I was never overly fond of the idea of being wrapped up in this,” Steve admits, hands now cupping yours over his cheeks. “But toppling this empire will keep you safe.”

As heartwarming as that sounded, you broke the fantasy. “The minute we take the giants out, they’ll elect someone new.”

“But we take the giants out. The giants that hurt you.”

He’s right, like always. 

“Steve,” you say quietly, bringing his face closer to kiss away his tears. You’re struggling to keep the tippy-toes and your ankle is screaming for a break, but you persist. “You should have told me.”

“I know.”

“No more secrets.”

“None, I swear, I promise.”

Biting your lip to keep from crying, you make sure his eyes are locked on yours before you speak. “I’m not walking away this time. I’m not leaving you. Not again.”

Steve’s mouth releases a big burst of air like he was holding it in, and he wraps you in a hug that promises the same.

~

TAGLIST: @dumb-ass-writer @justab-eautifulmess​ @supraveng @mycosmicparadise @missnighttigress​

A/N: Wooooo that took forever lol xxMoni

[sunkissedspider]

Complicated | Peter Parker

Complicated | Peter Parker

Complicated | Peter Parker

MASTERLIST

***taglist is open!!! just send an ask or message me and i’ll add you :)***

***requests are open!!! just send an ask or message me your request if you have one :)***

pairing: Peter Parker x reader

summary: your and Peter's relationship is strictly physical... but what happens when feelings get in the way?

warnings: angst, smut, unprotected sex (please wrap it before you tap it), making out, language, fluff, etc.

listen to: i love you, bitches broken hearts, wish you were gay, and my boy by Billie Eilish (get ready for some Sad Vibes™ and some Angry Vibes™)

word count: 5.9k+ (👀👀)

a/n: parts of this are super angsty and sad. does it have a happy ending?... we'll see 👀. sorry for any spelling and/or grammar errors!!

     You and Peter had a... complicated relationship, to say the least. Not only had you two been best friends since the third grade, but you had also been sleeping with each other for a year and a half. You guys had make the decision to lose your virginities to each other, and since it went really well, you both thought "why not do this for a while?".

    No, you and Peter weren't dating, you were strictly friends with benefits. Honestly, you sometimes didn't understand why you guys weren't official, but then you remembered the conversation that you two had had with each other after the first few times you guys had sex. The conversation about how if sleeping with each other didn't ruin your friendship, dating probably would. Sure, you two still did the same things that you did before you guys had first slept together. Movie nights every Friday after school, hours spent at the carnival with Ned, MJ, and Betty, drives to the diner at 3 am whenever you got bored... only now, they were followed by absolutely mind-blowing sex. It was never awkward after though, like how you originally thought it would be.

    You found it funny how you could always tell whenever Peter was horny; the way he would squirm in his seat, how he would move his textbooks to cover the bulge in his jeans, how needy he was, and no many other countless things. You couldn't even remember how many times you'd be watching t.v. on his couch, and he'd just lean over and kiss your neck in the way that drove you crazy, and then you'd end up having fucking incredible sex on every surface of his apartment.

    But the times weren't always happy. Sometimes you'd fight. And when you cough, you fought. Yelling, screaming, doors slamming, the whole shebang. You two fought like you were a couple, but you knew you'd never be an actual one, and you kind of liked it that way, if you were being honest. You got all of the sex and the talking and (most) of the good things, all without the commitment (even though you both weren't sleeping or dating other people). And you always had thought that Peter liked it that way too.

***

    "Petey!" You exclaimed, sitting down in front of him at the cafeteria, his eyes moving to look up at you from his phone. "I've got an idea."

    "What is it?" He asked, with raised suspicion in his voice, noticing your wicked smile.

    "Can we please, please, please go to that abandoned building that we drove past that one time?" You whisper-scream, your eyes darting all around Peter's face, trying to guess his response.

    "Absolutely not," He breathes out, laughing quietly. "That place looks haunted as fuck. There's no way in hell I'm going in there."

    "But I love scary shit! Please, Peter?" You plead, giving him the best puppy dog eyes you could, but he just looks away from you.

    "No way, Y/N L/N." He elaborates, taking a sip of your water that he had stolen from you.

    "Come on, Pete." You whined, before lowering your voice, reaching to race small circles on one of his forearms and hands. "I'll do that thing that you like so much." You bit your lip softly, looking up at him through your long eyelashes, knowing that it drives him crazy.

    He clenches his jaw, a slight blush covering his cheeks, looking up at the ceiling in thought for a moment before looking back at you, his eyes darkened with lust. "Fine. But only because you're my best friend and you're really good at it."

***

    It was about two hours after Peter dropped you off at your apartment that he knocked on your door, his "adventure bag" in his hands.

    "Ready?" He asked, holding up two flash lights, an excited smile on his face.

    You nodded eagerly, saying goodbye to your parents before grabbing your own bag, meeting Peter out in the hallway. He grabbed onto your hand softly, both of you walking out of your apartment building, matching goofy grins on your faces.

***

    "Here you go," Peter laughed, opening the passenger side door for you, shutting it when you were buckled in. "You excited?" He asked after sliding into the car, buckling his won seatbelt.

    "Very," You said, laughing slightly as you looked through all of the personal mix CDs that you and Peter had made together, perfectly fitting your matching taste in music. "I can't believe I actually convinced you to go with me."

    "I get to spend, like... Wait, three hour drive there, we'll spend, like, two hours there, and then three hour drive back... Yeah, I get to spend eight extra hours with you, so, really, it's awesome either way." He breathed out, looking over at your as you continued flipping through the CDs, looking up at him briefly to smile at him.

"I, uh, I bought some extra stuff from Mr. Delmar's too." He said, reaching into the back seat of his car, grabbing his, what you two called it, adventure bag. "Two sandwiches with pickle, a couple packs of gum, two Cokes, a few waters, and another CD." He says, smiling at you, reaching over to do your handshake, but you just ignored it. Instead, you leaned over the center console, hugging Peter tightly.

    He just smiled, hugging you back even tighter, moving his head to kiss you on the cheek before you two smiled even wider, pulling away before starting the radio, Peter pulling out of the parking lot, the GPS on his phone already coming on, telling him to turn left in six miles.

***

    "Okay, okay. Uhm... Jennifer Aniston?" You asked, taking a sip of your water.

    "Oh, hell yeah. I'd do her in a heartbeat." He says almost immediately, causing you both to laugh loudly.

    "Harry Styles?" He asks, switches lanes on the highway as you smile widely.

    "Abso-fuckin'-lutely! How could anyone not wanna fuck him?" You both laugh, before Peter's face suddenly turns serious.

    "Are you, uh... Are you, ya know, sleeping with anyone else?" He asks, his Adam's apple bobbing as he gulps nervously.

    You scoff, slapping Peter playfully on the chest. "No, Pete. I'm shocked that someone as hot as you wants to sleep with me. Besides, I like having sex with you. You're fucking amazing in bed." You giggle quietly, looking at the way Peter's cheeks are flushed a bright red at your praise.

    Peter tries his best to not let a cocky smile take over his face. Obviously he knows how good he is in bed. The noises that you make and the praises that you give him are more than enough for him to know what he's doing is good.

    "Are- Are you?" You ask, butterflies flying around deep in your stomach. You knew that you and Peter weren't official. But, for some reason, the thought of him sleeping with another girl made you sick to your stomach.

    "Nope. I've never even come close to it. I'm comfortable with you, and sleeping with you is always nice. I don't trust anyone as much as I trust you, and you know how important trust is to me." He breathes out, laughing nervously.

    You let out a breath that you were holding. If Peter had been sleeping with another person, he would've told you, and you would've been able to tell even before that. You two were best friends, after all. You knew Peter better than you knew yourself, and vise versa.

***

    You and Peter had a blast at the old building, and he ended up being glad that you could convince him to go. Well, he would be gone either way just to spend time with you, but it was cute seeing how much you wanted him to join you.

    It's never awkward hanging out with Peter even though you two are sleeping together. Well, it's usually never awkward. If it is, it's only ever when he's dropping you back off at your apartment. You never know whether you two should kiss or if you should just do your secret handshake. That was the one thing you could never figure out about Peter; "Does he wanna kiss me? Does he not wanna kiss me? Do I wanna kiss him?" were the thoughts that ran through your brain constantly, and most of the time you couldn't even look into Peter's eyes when he dropped you off at your place.

    He was always gentleman though. Especially when you two were having sex. He would always make sure that you were okay, constantly reminding you of how beautiful you were, how good you felt, how much he was enjoying it, while still making sure you were, etc.

    Along with the incredible sex, you and Peter had a nearly unbreakable bond... and you weren't sure if you wanted to test how it could break. Peter is the best friend you've ever had. He was always there to listen, to talk, to be your shoulder to cry on, and so many other things. He was your partner in crime, your ride or die, your boyfriend that wasn't a boyfriend... but who knows, maybe you did want to be with Peter. Even you didn't know the answer to that. And you didn't know if you ever would.

***

    "I've got some news!" You squealed, sitting down across from Peter at the lunch table, where you always sat. It had been a few days since you and Peter had gone on your little road trip together, and you had already planned to go back again the following weekend.

    "What is it?" He asked, smiling when he saw how happy you were.

    "Alright... guess who just asked me out to the movies on Friday..." You said, you're eyes blowing wide with excitement.

    It took Peter everything in him to not clench his jaw in anger, trying his best to keep a happy smile on his face. "Who?" He asked, one of his hands holding yours and he rubbed his thumb over the smooth skin.

    "Brennan fucking Daniels!" You exclaimed, your smile even wider.

    "Oh shit! That's awesome!" Peter said, lying to you for the first time in years.

    He hated Brennan. Not just because he liked you and you liked him, or the fact that you and Peter were sleeping with each other, but because he was an asshole. Sure, he seemed nice on the outside, but Peter knew just how cruel he could be. Brennan used to live in the apartment next to Peter's, and even though you lived in the apartment right below Peter's, you never really saw Brennan. But Peter saw, and heard, everything. He saw how in the mornings girls would leave Brennan's apartment with tears in their eyes, their sneakers in their hands as they sped down the hallways, not wanting anyone to know that they were crying. He would date another beautiful girl every two weeks, and then he would throw them away just like they were nothing. Brennan Daniels was a player, he always had been and he always would be, and Peter was shocked that someone as incredible as you was going after an asshole like that.

    "I'm sorry that I'm missing movie nigh for the first time in... what? Six years? Seven years? But I promise you that I'll stop by your apartment as soon as my date is over. How about we watch The Notebook this time?" You asked, your eyes turning sad slightly, feeling bad that you would miss hanging out with Peter for a few hours.

    "It's fine, don't worry about it. Just have fun and enjoy the movie. I'll stop by Mr. Delmar's and grab some snacks, but just take your time." Peter said, putting on his best fake smile. Here he was again, as always, being the supportive best friend that he always was, putting you happiness ahead of his.

    "Are you sure, Pete? Because I can reschedule, it's not a problem." You ask, making sure that Peter was really okay with it.

    "Positive, just have fun." He fake smiled at you again, trying his best to convince you.

    You just smiled, squeezing his hand before turning to talk to Ned, Betty, and MJ, not noticing the small, single tear sliding slowly down the smooth skin of his face, before he wiped it away quickly, leaning forward to join the conversation that you were having with everyone else.

***

    "Fuck, Brennan! Fuck, fuck, fuck!" You moaned, your back slamming against Brennan's toned chest as his grip on your waist tightened quickly as his pounded into you at a harsh, rough speed, hitting a spot so deep inside of you that your eyes rolled back as you let out a loud, choked out moan.

    "Holy fucking shit. Fuck, are you gonna cum?" He groaned into your ear, his thrusts starting to become sloppier and sloppier as you both came closer to your highs each time he hit deep inside of you.

    "Fuck, yes!" You moaned loudly, squealing loudly when he flipped you both, now pounding into even quicker as he looked into your eyes before dipping his head down, biting hard onto your collar bone, the force of his hips slapping against yours was enough for your bed to slam against the wall repeatedly, making you even gladder that your parents were on a date.

    "Fucking cum for me, Y/N. Shit!" He groaned, his words only spurring you on further until, with one specifically deep thrust, you came undone underneath him, your walls squeezing him tightly as you moaned loudly, causing him to reach his own orgasm as he quickly pulled out of you, pumping hi cock harshly before he released onto your stomach, moaning out you name loudly as his head went back, before he collapsed onto your bed beside you.

    "Fuck," You breathed out, your chest heaving up and down quickly as you tried quickly to regulate your breathing. "That was fucking incredible."

    "Yeah. Shit, I thought that you'd be good in bed, but I didn't think you'd be that good." He laughed, looking over at you as he lifted one of his muscular arms above his head, looking over at you before asking you a questions that made butterflies appear in your stomach again. "How many people have you slept with. I know you couldn't have been a virgin before that, you were too good."

    "Only one, but I've slept with him a lot before." You breathe out, laughing quietly, before you looked over at Brennan, seeing him start to stand up, gathering his clothes that were scattered all over the floor. "What are you doing?" You ask, trying not to sound nervous.

    "I have football practice tomorrow and I need to go home and sleep, but could I see you again sometime soon? I, uh, I had a lot of fun tonight, and I really wanna see you again." He said, slipping his shirt on over his head, pulling his boxers on before he went to your desk, grabbing a towel before walking over to you, wiping his seed off of your stomach for you.

    "I'd like that." You said, reaching a hand softly around one side of his neck, pulling his head down to yours, your lips meeting in a soft kiss.

    After he got dressed and you threw on a pair of sweats and one of your (Peter's) hoodies, you walked Brennan to your front door, stepping into the hallway before kissing him deeply, your arms wrapped around his neck as you stood on your tippy toes, him leaning down to reach your lips, your figure seeming small compared to his 6'5 height.

    "Bye." He said, smiling against your lips before pulling away, clearing his throat loudly when he saw Peter standing at the end of the hallway, his eyes blown wide at the sight of you two kissing in such an intimate way. It made his blood boil and his jaw clench when he saw how you smiled and how happy you seemed when you kissed him.

    "Peter? What are you doing here?" You said, raised alarm in your voice. "I'll see you soon, Brennan." You said, waving him goodbye as Peter walked over to you, your body leaning against your front door frame.

    "What was all of that about?" Peter asks, watching Brennan as he walked away, only turning to look at you when he saw him turn down the hallway.

    "It's nothing, Pete. I thought I was meeting you at your place?" You ask, smiling at Peter, trying to ignore how awkward it was that the guy you were sleeping with caught you with a guy you had just slept with.

    "It's late, I didn't want something bad to happen to you." He smiles back, trying his best to cover the pain he felt.

***

    "Did you guys have sex?" Peter asked, causing you to turn your head away from his t.v., his tone a serious one, a large contrast to the funny, happy scene that was going on during the movie.

    "What?" You ask, laughing, assuming he was joking as you took some popcorn into your hand, your eyes back on the screen as you snacked.

    "Did you sleep with Brennan?" He asked, butterflies flying all around his stomach, nervous about the answer.

    "Yeah," You shrugged, eyes still following the characters around on the screen. "It doesn't really mean anything though."

    "Are you kidding? God, Jesus Christ, please tell me that you're joking." He said, causing you to look at him deeply in the eyes.

    "What's wrong, Pete-" You start, before getting interrupted.

    "'What's wrong?'?... 'What's wrong?'?! Gee, I don't know, Y/N. Maybe the fact that you fucked goddamn Brennan Daniels. You know he's just gonna leave you, right? He does that with every girl he fucks! And maybe its the fact that you didn't even ask me if you could sleep with him?!" Peter yelled, the first time he's ever yelled at you, his jaw clenched tightly, as he talked with his hands, his leg bouncing up and down, a sign that he was angry.

    "Why does it matter so much? It's not like you're my boyfriend!" you snapped back, your body turned to face Peter's.

    "What if I want to be? Have you ever though about that?" He shot back, his eyes darkened with anger.

    "What are you talking about, Peter?" You said, your voice now back to normal, your eyes blown wide as you tried to make sense of what Peter was telling you.

    "Nothing... It's nothing. Get out." He said, his hands going to cover his eyes.

    "What?" You asked, your voice breaking at the harsh words coming from your best friend. From the one person that you trusted the most in this world.

    "Just get out! Get the fuck out!" Peter screamed at you even louder than before, his hands moving from his face to his sides as he stood up, looking at you right in your eyes.

    "Fine." You said, standing up, moving to his front door, slowly opening it, before turning around to look at him again. "Goodbye, Peter." And with that, you left his apartment, quietly closing door, constant streams of tears falling down your face as you desperately tried to wipe them away with the sleeve of Peter's hoodie, his scent that was imprinted on it only making you cry harder.

***

    Peter tried to come by your apartment, climbing down the fire escape from his apartment down to yours. He was about to tap on your window until he saw you on your bed; you sat there, crumpled up in a little ball, wrapped in Peter's sweatshirt and your blankets, only your bedside table light on as you cried, your cheeks stained red from your tears.

    "Fuck," Peter breathed out. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" He muttered before walking back up the fire escape again. His eyes stung as tears pricked up in his waterlines, realizing how bad he had fucked up... realizing that he had lost you.

***

    You sat with Brennan the next day at lunch, trying to avoid Peter as much as you could, which was hard since you had almost all of the same classes. Of course, the awkward eye contact happened a few time in the following weeks of not speaking to him.

    By the third week, both you and Peter had cut everyone off. Even though you were happy with Brennan, and you believed that he truly liked you, you were sluggish and quieter than you usually were. Unless you and Brennan were having sex, you were always bored. You missed the excitement that Peter brought into your life. He was Spider-Man, for Christ's sake, and you missed the way that he would explain his adventures of the day to you, even if most of them were very eventful. You missed the way that his eyes would light up whenever he saw you, or the way his grin would turn cheesy whenever you said a bad, corny dad joke. You missed the way that he made you feel special. Not just durning sex, but whenever you questioned yourself. Whenever you thought  that you looked bad, or whenever you thought that you were stupid because you got a bad grade on a test.

    Peter had always been there for you. Ever since you were nine years old. But now you didn't know if you would ever talk to him again. You tried not to think about it much, but whenever a teacher would say something that you could turn into a "That's what she said" joke, you would always curse yourself for looking next to you at Peter, forgetting for just a brief moment that he wasn't your best friend anymore. That he wasn't even your acquaintance anymore. That he was now just some guy that sat next to you in almost all of your classes. In a few months, you knew that Peter wouldn't even exist to you anymore, and that right now, you probably didn't even exist to Peter at all.

***

    By this point, it had been two months since you had talked to the only person you had ever trusted with everything in you. You and Brennan had broken up a few weeks after the first time you slept together, and everyone was shocked when they found out that you had broken up with him, not the other way around like everyone had expected, Peter was especially surprised. He thought that you had really liked Brennan. Even if you had liked Brennan as much as Peter and everyone had thought, you knew that you couldn't be with him. Other than the fact that he was obviously cheating on you, you did want to stay with the person that had prompted the fight that had ended your friendship with Peter. Part of Peter wanted you to come back and be his friend again immediately, but the other part of Peter knew that that kind of situation wasn't going to happen. He had shut you out and yelled at you for doing something that he couldn't even really control. After all, he had told you that it was fine for you to go on a date with Brennan. And he had known that you probably were going to sleep with him. You were teenagers, that's what teenagers do.

    Peter at this point wasn't even talking to May. It first started when he had quit smiling when they would go get Thai, remembering that it was something you used to join in on. Whenever May would bring you up, Peter's jaw would clench and he'd try and change the subject as quickly as possible. May knew that something was up with your and Peter's friendship after she hadn't seen you for a week. You were either always at Peter's place, he was always at your place, or you guys were always driving around somewhere upstate.

    "Peter," May started, walking in front of him as he was seated on the couch, typing away on his laptop as he worked on an assignment for physics. "What happened to Y/N? I haven't seen her in months."

    "It's nothing. She's just busy." He dismissed as he continued typing quickly.

    "Even when you're both busy, you always find a way to see each other. This is the longest I've seen you be without her since the third grade, Pe-" She said before getting interrupted by Peter.

    "I said it's nothing." He said sternly, his voice turning cold.

    "Peter-"

    "I said it's nothing, May! Jesus Christ, it's fucking nothing!" He yelled, slamming his laptop closed as he got off of the couch, making his way into his bedroom.

    "Peter, you have to tel, me what's going on here. I've never seen you like this. What the hell is wrong?" May asked, concern filling her voice.

    "Shit! I love her. God, I love her, May. I can’t stop thinking about her. I can’t do anything. I can’t eat, I can’t sleep, I can’t concentrate. Please… just tell me what to do.” Peter begged, hot tears beginning to stream down his face, his eyes and cheeks turning red from the overload of emotions he was feeling.

    "I'm sorry to say it, but you can’t do anything when you love someone like that, Peter. But you have to tell her or you’ll go crazy." She said, her eyes turning soft. She felt sympathy for Peter, she knew exactly what he was going through.

    "I don’t want mess up what her and I have. I can’t lose her, May. I can't." Peter chokes out through tears.

    "Just tell her how you feel, Peter. And pray that it’ll work out well."

    "It’s not that simple, May! It’s more complicated than that! I’m sorry that I’m yelling, but I’m suffocating in my own feelings over here! Either I’m numb or I’m feeling everything, May… I can’t do this, it’s too much." Peter said, sinking onto the floor as he let his emotions take over him. May immediately ran over to him, sitting down next to him on the floor, hugging him tightly as he sobbed into May's neck, his hot tears soaking her striped shirt.

    "You need to go talk to her, Peter. As soon as you possibly can, or you're gonna lose it before you can even say her name." ay said, kissing the top of his head as she pulled away, looking at Peter with sadness in her eyes as he tried to wipe some of is tears away with his hoodie, the one that you had given back to him by leaving it in a brown paper bag my his window on the fire escape.

***

    You sat on your bed, trying your best to read one of your favorite books in a desperate attempted to make yourself feel better as one of your and Peter's favorite playlists played quietly in the background.

    You jumped sightly when you heard the tapping on your window... it had been a while since you had heard it. Butterflies swarmed your stomach when you saw Peter, and you tried your best to wipe away the tears that filled your eyes and that trailed down your face slowly.

    You and Peter looked at each other for the longest time you had in two months, both of you not breathing when you unlocked and opened your window, stepping back to let Peter climb through.

    "Can I hug you?" He asked, more tears forming in your eyes as you heard him speak to you for the first time in two months.

    "Y-yeah." You managed to choke out.

    That was all Peter needed to hear before he wrapped his arms tightly around you, both of you immediately sobbing loudly into each other's embrace.

    "Fuck, Y/N. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry." Peter said over and over again, your head buried in his chest.

    "I'm sorry, Peter. I should've talked to you, I should've asked you. God, I'm so sorry, Pete." You cried, both of your grips tightening around each other.

    "No, it's my fault. I overreacted. It's just that... I- I..." Peter stuttered out, his grip around you loosening as you stepped only a few feet away to get a good look at his face.

    "What is it, Peter?" You asked, one of your hands going up to cup one of his cheeks, rubbing your thumb around the skin, remembering how much you had missed the smoothness of it.

    "I-, I'm just gonna say it because I can't think of any other way to put it... Y/N L/N, I'm in love with you. I'm so in love with you that it hurts. I've been in love with you since we were nine years old, and that's the reason I freaked out about Brennan. I love you so fucking much, Y/N. Jesus Christ, I can't breathe without you, I can't sleep, I can barely even do my fucking homework without you being around me. And I know that yo probably don't feel the same way about me, and that's okay, but-" He breathed out, a weight visibly lifting from is shoulders and he continued rambling, before you interrupted him.

    "Peter, shut the fuck up." You laughed, causing him to top dead in his tracks.

    "W-what?" He asked, his eyes widening with fear.

    "I'm in love with you too, Peter. God, how could I not be? You're the sweetest, smartest, funniest guy I know. And I am so in love with you that I can't even read my favorite fucking book!" You said before stepping closer to him, your arms slowly starting to wrap themselves softly around his neck.

    "Can I kiss you?" He asked, his arms starting wrap around your waist, pulling you closer to each other.

    "Please." You breathe out quietly.

    And with that, you and Peter kissed for the first time in what felt like forever. Just two dumb and in love kids. You stood up on your tippy toes to deepen the kiss. It was one of those movie kisses... the total sparks flying, butterflies in the stomach kisses. It was one of the main things that you had missed. You missed how perfectly his lips molded to your, like they were two puzzle pieces that could only fit together with the other.

    "Peter," You moaned when he started to kiss down your neck, his hands quickly lifting your sweatshirt off of you, you crawling onto the bed when you felt the backs of your legs hit your bed. "Please." You said, Peter's body situated between yours as he kissed your neck, his sweatshirt already discarded somewhere on your floor, your bare chests pressed against each other's.

    "Please what?" He smirked against your chest, nipping on your bare breasts lightly.

    "Fuck, make love to me, Peter." You begged, your back arching and a moan escaping your lips from the love bites Peter was giving you.

    He looked up at you for a few seconds, your eyes meeting his, a soft smile covering your face as you ran your hands through Peter's curly brown locks, missing how they felt against your fingers.

    You met your lips with Peter's, telling hi that you wanted him, and he kissed you back, a way of him showing you that it wanted you back.

    Peter pulled away after a few minutes, his fingers going to the waistband of your sweatpants, pulling them down, along with your underwear, before sitting back to take his own off. You licked your lips when his member sprung up against his lower stomach. If you both weren't so needy right now, you would've taken your time. But you two needed each other now more than ever.

    Peter hovered over you again, his body between yours, is hard length in his hand.

    "Ready?" He asked. The things that boy did to you... he always made you feel special, you didn't understand how he did it... it just came natural to him.

    "Yes..." You whispered, connecting your lips with his as he slid into you, both of you moaning loudly into each other's mouths.

    "Fuck!" You said in sync, your legs wrapping around Peter's waist before he started with a slow pace, wanting to make it last. He knew it probably wouldn't last as long as he would want it to, but goddamn, you felt fucking incredible around him.

    "Shit, you're so tight!" He groaned, his head dipping down to kiss your lips tenderly, your lips parting to deepen the kiss as his thrusts sped up, causing you to whimper loudly into his mouth as he groaned.

    "Fuck, Peter!" You screamed when he hit a spot so deep inside of you that it made your head spin as your back arched, your chests pressing against each other's even more, the feeling of Peter's skin on yours feeling like heaven.

    Even with all of the experience Brennan had, Peter knew how your body worked better than you did yourself. He knew just what to do to get you to come undone underneath him, to have your eyes squeeze tightly shut, to have you screaming him name in only minutes.

    "God, fuck," He groaned, his head going to suck deep purple marks into the crook of your neck, loud moans leaving the both of you. "Jesus, I'm already close, baby. I don't know how long I'm gonna last. You feel t fucking good around me."

    "Fuck, cum for me, Peter. Please." You begged, your eyes squeezing shut at the feeling of Peter hitting deep inside of you, along with the words and groans coming out of his mouth.

    He reached his hand down in between the two of you, rubbing harsh, tight circles on your clit, causing you to move your hands into his hair, tugging harshly as you came closer and closer to reaching your high.

    "Fuck, P-Peter! I'm gonna cum!" You screamed, Peter groaning into your ear only spurring you on, along with the sensations on your clit. Within seconds, you were coming undone around him, your walls clenching tightly around his length as your legs tightened around his waist, your arms hugging his body closer to your.

    And with only a few final thrusts, Peter was a complete groaning mess, his hips stilling as he came inside of you, his body collapsing on top of yours when his strength completely gave out, his head falling onto your chest.

    The next few moments were spent in a comfortable silence, your hands smoothing up and down Peter's arms and back and you both tried to get your breathing to calm down.

    "Y/N?" Peter said, looking up at you with his beautiful brown eyes. The sight would melt anybody's heart immediately, you were sure of it.

    "Yeah, Pete?" You said, kissing his forehead before meeting his eyes again.

    "God, I'm gonna sound like a little kid, but, uh... will you, ya know, be my girlfriend? Just us? No one else?" He asked, his heart rate speeding up a bit out of nervousness.

    "Of course, dummy." You laughed, Peter moving up to connect your lips in a soft kiss, both of you feeling completely safe.

    "I love you." He said, smiling between kisses.

    "I love you too, Peter."

__________

@ertherealrose​ @peter-tiingle​ @petertiingz​ @fallinfortom​

[deniigi]

bro, work made me depressed that I literally left my seat to regain any resemblance of joy or something equivalent before breaking down again. Do you think you can provide a ficlet I involving Peter and Sam to cheer me up?

FUCK CAPITALISM

TAKE THIS

Title: Calibrating

Summary: Sam and Peter talk themselves towards a meaningful discussion.

---------

Peter did this thing—this infuriating thing where he texted shit like ‘come over’ and then Sam had to bend over backwards to be flirty and coy.

It was imperative that he came across as flirty and coy.

Im-fucking-perative, regardless of what Leilani said or Matt’s annoyance at what he called the ‘jungle of depravity’ that overtook the group chat pretty much daily.

Sam didn’t care.

If Peter texted the group or sent any message that might be construed upside-down as something romantic or sexual, Sam not only had to catch it, but he had to volley it back.

This, he told Leilani, sealed their No-Homo contract.

She stared at him.

He decided to demonstrate.

“See, here, look, I’ll show you,” he said, dragging out his phone. “Exhibit A. There he is, see? Asking about the strength of PVC pipe in pounds per meter like a fuckin’ tease. Now I can’t just let him think that I saw that and didn’t think of it as a metaphor, alright? So I say—”

“Sam, why does he need to know the strength of PVC pipe?” Leilani interrupted.

It didn’t matter. That wasn’t the point of this discussion.

“I’m sending a winky-face,” Sam informed her as he did that very thing.

Leilani stared harder than before.

But look, skepticism was unrewarded. Peter texted a kiss right back and said ‘oh boo, you always know just want to say.’

How could she not see the No-Homo? Sam could do this all day. He could and there would be absolutely no problems and he wouldn’t want to suffocate himself in his pillow at the end of it all.

It was fine.

“Samuel,” Leilani said, “I’m going to tell you something and I want you to hear it with an open heart. Will you open your heart for me?”

Sam spun around in his chair and arranged his arms and legs so that they were as open as they could feasibly be without being obscene.

“I am more open than a boiled clam,” he informed her.

Leilani blinked slowly, then shook her head and checked over her shoulders. She waved him in closer. Then closer. And then close enough that he could smell her perfume on her neck.

“You’re the tease,” she said.

Then she left the backroom. And Sam could only stare after her, frozen in horror as his wide-open heart wrinkled in on itself, picking up mass and gravity until it was naught but a black hole.

“I’m the tease?” he whispered to himself in shock.

Oh no.

OH NO.

 --

  “SENSEI.”

Matt dropped his collection of folders and swore, clutching at his chest.

“We have discussed volume, Sam,” he said, bending down to collect his paper children.

Sam took the opportunity to throw both arms around his neck from behind as a threat.

“Don’t lie,” he warned. “Swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, amen.”

Matt stood up and Sam felt his toes leave the floor. He hadn’t planned this far ahead.

“Or what?” Matt asked, 110% unfazed.

Sam wished that his feet weren’t kicking around in air here. It really put a dent in his intimidation factor.

“Am I a tease?” he asked.

Matt faced front with heavy eyebrows. Sam couldn’t see his face from this angle, but he knew that aura of irritation.

“If you have to ask the question, then you already know the answer,” Matt said. “Does that help?”

“No, I hate you now, actually,” Sam told him.

Matt dropped him right on his ass.

 --

 There had to be a way to attain proof. To determine once and for all that it was Sam who was in the wrong here, misinterpreting things like the genius that he was.

Thankfully, Sam’s experience of growing up as a non-only child for the last two decades had prepared him exactly for this type of conversation.

 SC: HANNAH AM I A TEASE???

HC: yes

HC: next question

SC: FUCK.

SC: WHAT IF ITS NOT NO-HOMO?

HC: my dear brother, the only options if something is not no-homo is for it to be no-no or homo-homo.

SC: Murder me

HC: gladly

SC: I’m in possible homo-homo with spiderman

HC: are you sure it’s not no-no?

SC: MURDER ME

HC: okay but like if it’s no-no then this is not a problem, right?

SC: If it’s no-no then I’ve read every sign wrong and I deserve to become a partially eaten tadpole awash in an indifferent boiling sea

HC: okay so we’re leaning INTO the drama today I gotcha. Alright but like, just for the sake of arguing, what if it was homo-homo?

SC: then I need you to bury my body somewhere no one will ever find it because my heart can’t stand requited love you know this about me.

HC: give me your login

SC: thank you I love you you’re the only person who matters

 --

 BT: Spiderman.

SM: Blindspot. DMing? You okay?

BT: this is Hannah.

SM: OH

SM: hi Hannah are you okay? Did you need something?

BT: My brother never got tested for reading comprehension but would have failed anyways. Can you arbitrate an arbitrary argument for us?

SM: I’m positive that there is a link between those two ideas that I am missing, but sure?

BT: okay are you ready?

SM: my loins have been girded.

BT: gross. you two are made for each other. Okay: what are your opinions on 24yo Chinese dudes with bad vision who are 5’7” tall, with terrible hair and brains as big and gaseous as Jupiter?

SM: positive

BT: you’re so romantic spidey.

SM: I know

BT: I’m going to tell him now

SM: WAIT DON’T TELL HIM

BT: byeeeeeee

 --

 Sam was going to have a heart attack. He couldn’t look at his phone. He was just going to lay here until he wasted away into a fossil.

Mm, yes, what a wonderful way to escape any and all feelings. That was—

His phone chirped and he nearly fell out of his chair in a hurry to answer it.

 HC: [image] [image]

HC: you owe me your bones

SC: AFASDFADFAS:FJaf’asdfjahsdlfihasdl’fas

SC: TAKE THEM

HC: if you fuck spiderman you have to get pregnant and demand alimony for your beautiful mixed babies Samuel

SC: Darling sister, we’ve talked about this. it isn’t going to happen I still have yet to steal a womb

HC: try harder

HC: ttyl

--

 Okay, this was fine.

Everything was fine.

Spidey liked Sam back, it was no big deal. Spidey liked everyone back. Even the teases.

Even.

The.

Teases.

Fuck, Sam had to move.

 --

 Foggy caught him biting his nails to pieces over the copy machine and asked him if he was okay. He was not. Foggy could read this off him. He didn’t ask again, but he did say that if Sam was feeling particularly anxious about something he was welcome to go have his breakdown upstairs in Kirsten’s kitchen instead of downstairs among the files.

Sam appreciated his offer. He hiked up the stairs, and halfway up, his phone chirped.

His heart stopped.

It chirped again, and then again. By the time he got to the top of the stairs, it was chirping every couple of seconds with messages being typed and sent at mach speed.

He kicked off his shoes and went to go stand over Kirsten’s sink to open the first one.

  PP: Sam it’s peter hey listen your sister messaged me

PP: and was asking some pretty invasive questions and I replied to her. I don’t know if you saw them but I just wanted to say that if that makes you uncomfortable in any way know that I absolutely don’t mind and I’ll stop

PP: you can tell me to fuck off if that crossed your boundaries. I shouldn’t have even messaged her back without asking you

PP: and obviously in future I won’t talk to her until I’ve cleared it with you I just wasn’t thinking I’m never thinking it’s a little hard to think sometimes

PP: especially when you message me back and I get caught up in the games and the emojis and stuff and like I’m sure that sometimes I overstep but I don’t mean to and you can tell me at any point if you want me to stop

PP: I guess I just really like to talk to you sometimes and it’s fun to have someone to banter with who actually banters back like not in a mean way but in a really nice and funny way. you’re an easy guy to talk to is what I’m saying

PP: which I’m sure you get a lot. I don’t mean that I want to like tell you all my problems I swear it’s not that it’s just more of a AHHHHH I don’t even know what I’m saying I think it’s sorry???

PP: I’m sorry??? I don’t mean to imply anything that isn’t there and I don’t want to make you feel like you have to either. Ar e you mad? Please don’t be mad okay wait no I’ve sent like seven fucking messages I’m being a creep oh my god IM SORRY ILL SHUT UP NOW OKAY SORRY BYE

  Oh nooooo.

The panic-induced infodump was not only familiar but horrendously endearing.

Sam had to explode now.

Man. Bummer.

  SC: it’s okay Peter

PP: OH THANK GOD

PP: is it tho??? Are you sure?

SC: I have positive feelings towards people like you too

  Sam’s heart pounded. He almost locked his phone and threw it in the sink, but another text came in just as that thought finished crossing his mind.

  PP: you do?

SC: yes of course I do

PP: oh nice

SC: yeah

  Annnnnnnd cue mutual nerd awkwardness. Great. Well done, Sam, you’ve done it again.

He sighed and turned away from the sink and sunk down onto the floor with his back against it.

Such a loser, Chung. So painfully awkward. Would it kill you to, just for once, slow down and chill for a minute?

God.

  PP: hey sam?

  No, Sam just wanted to sit on this floor and wallow.

  PP: hello? Are you still there?

 --

Sam let his head fall back against the sink. He closed his eyes.

His phone rang in his hand and he nearly had a heart attack. His fingers scrabbled over its face and the caller ID read ‘Peter Parker.’

Oh god.

Oh no.

Be cool. Be cool. Be cool.

“Hello?” he answered to the scratchy phone silence on the other side of the line.

He frowned.

“Hello?” he tried again, a smidge less desperate.

“Hi.”

There he was.

“Hey,” Sam said. “Sorry, just got awkward.”

Peter laughed through the line.

“Me too,” he said. “That was awkward.”

Yeah.

“Yeah.”

A long pause.

“I’m doing it again,” Sam moaned into his hand.

“No, no. Hey, you’re good,” Peter said. “I was just uh. Calling because.” He trailed off.

Sam waited.

“Sam? You still there?”

He startled and cleared his throat.

“Yeah, I’m here,” he said. “Sorry, zoning out a little bit. You know, busy day.”

“Yeah,” Peter said.  “Yeah, I know.”

Sam breathed as quietly as he could. He could almost hear Peter doing the same on his end.

“Sorry, I’ve gotta g—” Sam started.

“Hey, do you like me?”

HNG.

“No?” Sam answered and then punched himself in the leg. “Sorry. Uh. I didn’t—I mean, uh. Yes. Of course I like you. You’re a really good person. I admire you a lot.”

Hannah, oh Hannah, where is thine shovel? Sam needed it to dig this grave deeper, please.

“Oh. Okay, I just—I guess I uh, have a hard time reading the tone of your texts sometimes,” Peter said.

“It’s okay, I get that a lot,” Sam said. “I’ll try harder to be more direct.”

“No,” Peter said. “No, no, you don’t have to change anything.”

“Oh? Okay, well. Maybe I still will, though,” Sam said.

If Peter wouldn’t have heard him, he would have started to try to fit his whole fist in his mouth.

Five minutes of conversation and they were still saying nothing.

“Sam?”

He swallowed.

“Yeah?” he asked.

“Next time you’re in the city, would you, uh, maybe want to go out somewhere? With me?”

Out? What like, to a movie or something?

“Yeah, just like that,” Peter said. “’Cause I uh. Would like to. Do that, I mean. With you.”

“With me?” Sam asked. “Oh right, and your other friends, uh, names—sorry, I’m bad with names. N-ned?”

“No,” Peter said oddly abruptly. “Well, I mean—I don’t mean it like that. I just—just with you. For now. That’s what I mean.”

“Oh. Uh. Kinda like a date?” Sam asked through the forcefield of self-hatred that felt like it spanned the entire continental US.

There was a pause. Sam held his breath.

“Yeah,” Peter said. “Exactly like a date. If you don’t mind—you know, doing that with me.”

AHAHAHAHAHAHA.

“Are you trying to lure me to a secondary location, Mr. Parker?” Sam asked seriously.

The laugh that met him made all the muscles in his shoulders relax.

“Maybe if the bit at the first location goes well,” Peter said. Then added hurriedly, “If you’re down for that.”

Sam was down for it right now.

Actually, maybe not in Kirsten’s kitchen. But like, right now in a different location.

“If it’s a movie date, we can do it through Netflix Party,” he pointed out faux-lightly. “It wouldn’t be the same, but we could do it this weekend, even. Saturday—I’m off Saturday.”

Peter said nothing for a long time.

“Okay. Saturday,” he finally agreed, “I can do Saturday. Kinda hard to hold your hand through a screen, but I can give it my best shot?”

FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFfffffff.

“Oh, I bet you will,” Sam nearly choked.

“You’re really cute, Sam.”

NO. SHUT UP. YOU ARE.

“Thanks.”

“I wanted to kiss you last time you were here, but I was too, uh. Shy. Embarrassed. One of them.”

Sam was going to puke, but in like, the happiest kind of way.

“I like you a lot too, Peter,” he whispered.

“Are you crying?”

“What? No.”

“Awwwwwwwwwwwwwwww.”

“Shut up, I’m not. I—the old man’s downstairs, his ears aren’t as good through ceilings, but I just want to make sure—”

“Uh-huh,” Peter said. “I’m sure that’s what it is. So I’ll see you Saturday? Maybe Facetime or something?”

“Yeah, Saturday,” Sam said. “I’ll send you a time when I know. I’ve gotta go. Meltdown-alloted-breaktime is over.”

Peter laughed.

“Alright, man, I’ll talk to you later. Bye now.”

“Bye,” Sam said lamely.

He hung up the phone. He did not scream. But he did fist pump and then fall onto his side.

 ---------

Here’s to hoping things get easier for you anon!!

[sheps-shepherd]

50 Wordless Ways to Say “I Love You.” 

3. Traveling long distances just to see them.

Harley had his headphones in only because he was doing the dishes in the kitchen while his mother and sister were in the living room watching a show together, and his mama didn’t raise him to be rude like that. The fade of Metallica blasting in his ears as his phone began to ring had him haphazardly wiping a hand dry on his jeans before digging into his pocket to see who it was.

A picture of Peter’s beaming face stared back at him, backlit by the sinking sun in the sky behind him, looking over his shoulder when Harley had called his name. It was one of Harley’s favorites; he’d set it as his boyfriend’s contact photo immediately after taking it - he’d posted it on Instagram, too, for their one year anniversary.

“I’m in the kitchen, so keep it PG, Parker,” he said, setting his phone down on the counter as he went back to his task.

“Ha ha,” Peter’s voice crackled in his ears. “We both know you’re the one who needs an R-rating, Keener.”

Harley smirked at that.

“What’s up, darlin’? What’d you do today?”

Peter launched into the play-by-play of his day without further prompting, clearly excited to tell Harley all about it, like he always was. And Harley listened with a smile on his face, because his boyfriend was too damn cute for his own good, and anything that warranted such excitement on Peter’s end was important on Harley’s, no matter what.

“-and oh! That new ice cream parlour opened up! I passed by it today and it looks so nice inside! We have to go when you’re back, Ned and MJ went and they said it’s really good!”

“You should have gone with them,” Harley said, scrubbing at a pot. “You didn’t hafta wait for me.”

“Harls,” Peter said, exasperated, like he couldn’t believe Harley had even suggested that, “you’ve been excited for that place since you saw the ad for it. Of course I’m waiting for you. Besides, I’m gonna take tons of pictures of your face when you see it, it’s so cool.”

“Lookin’ forward to it then.” And he wished they’d been on FaceTime, because he could picture the bright happy smile on Peter’s face, the one he missed more than he was willing to admit.

“Speaking of,” Peter chirped on, “have you figured out what you’re doing for your birthday tomorrow? If you won’t be able to talk until later, I understand, I just wanna make sure.”

“Actually, Mama’s already invited you to dinner,” Harley said. “So be ready and on FaceTime by six o’clock sharp, or you don’t get a plate.”

“God, I miss your mom’s cooking,” Peter mused, dreamily, because he already knew every path straight to Harley’s heart. “Is she making peach cobbler?”

Harley glanced over at the mess of ingredients his mother had brought home from the grocery store that afternoon, stacked on the countertop like a glorified pyramid.

“We’re makin’ it in the morning,” he answered. “She said she wasn’t gonna risk me eatin’ it all.”

“Don’t act like you don’t know she was right.” Harley just laughed. “FedEx me a piece.”

“‘Course, darlin’.”

“Oh, I almost forgot! I shipped your present out today. You should get it by the end of the week.”

“I’ll keep an eye out for it.”

In the short lapse of silence before Peter’s reply, Harley heard knocking at the front door. He grabbed a dish towel to dry his hands, calling out, “I got it, Mama!” and tossing it back onto the counter. “Hang on, Pete, I’ll be right back.”

“Kay,” Peter chimed in his ear, right before Harley took his headphones out and dropped them down beside his phone. He strode out of the kitchen and into the living room, passing behind the couch his mother and sister were curled up on.

He was opening the door, ready to lean his hip against the threshold like he always did, when he froze on the spot.

Because standing on the doorstep with his phone held out right in front of Harley’s face was Peter Parker. He had a duffle bag hanging off his shoulder and the same big bright grin Harley had been thinking about not five minutes ago.

“Oh, that’s a good one,” he said, turning it so Harley could see the photo of his own shocked face that Peter had just taken. “We’re keeping that one.”

He took his phone back and tapped away at it, and Harley knew it was going to pop up again somewhere, probably tomorrow in whatever sappy birthday post Peter made for him - his birthday, that he had already celebrated with Peter and May before leaving New York because Peter hadn’t been able to come to Tennessee with him this time around.

Or at least, that was what he’d told Harley.

Peter looked up, his grin still bright, and said, “So are you going to hug me or what?”

That got Harley moving, had him stepping onto the concrete outside his door, ignoring the way it scratched the bottoms of his bare feet as he practically fell into Peter’s arms, knowing Peter would catch him.

And Peter did, wrapping Harley in his hold with a laugh that echoed around them, squeezing Harley just as tight as Harley was squeezing him.

“Jesus, Pete,” he said, muffling his words in Peter’s shoulder. “What the fuck.”

“Don’t worry,” Peter replied, scratching his fingers through Harley’s blonde curls, “there’s still a present coming for you at the end of the week.”

Like that was what Harley cared about right now.

He pulled back, just enough to see his boyfriend’s face, just enough to reach up and press his palm to Peter’s cheek. “I left three days ago.” He thumbed at the edge of Peter’s grin. “Why didn’t you just come with me?”

“Because then it wouldn’t have been a surprise.” And then, without missing a beat, Peter added cheekily, “Duh.”

“You’re such a dork,” Harley said, voice quaking with the emotion swelling in his throat. His other hand went to Peter’s other cheek. “You’re such a fuckin’ loser, Pete.”

Still, Peter smiled at him. “I missed you too, angel.”

Harley ducked his head and kissed him; sweetly, the way he knew Peter liked, but also with enough force to knock the duffle bag off his shoulder. It landed with a solid plop beside their feet. Peter was apparently too busy kissing him back to mind it much.

“Oh my God, Harley,” came Abby’s voice from behind him, no doubt watching them through the still-open door from her spot on the couch. “Let the poor guy in before you jump his bones.”

“Abigail Rae,” Macy scolded lightly, and Peter clutched onto Harley tighter as he broke their kiss to laugh again.

They finally untangled themselves. Harley reached down to grab the strap of the fallen duffle and hiked it over his own shoulder.

“How long are you stayin’?”

“When’s your flight back to New York?”

“Counting today? In four days.”

Peter’s grin was wide and showed off all his teeth, sparkling brighter than any star in the Tennessee sky could ever hope to.

“Four days, then.”

Harley grinned back, fisted his hand into the front of Peter’s hoodie, and dragged him into the house.

[ultraintrovertedgryffindor]

Not Alone - Peter Rumancek (Hemlock Grove) Part 1 of 2

*shrug* I was bored

~~~~~~~~~~

"Y/n! Y/N! Get the fuck back here!"

You ignored your father's shouting and kept running, as far away as you could not knowing where you were going. And until you didn't recognize where you were.

You eventually stopped running, leaning your hands on your knees, trying to catch your breath.

After you caught your breath, you looked around and only saw trees. Miles and miles of trees. 

You sighed heavily, frustrated that you didn't pay attention to your surroundings. But you couldn't help it, you just kinda blacked out once you got hyped up on fear that your father instilled in you.

After being called useless one too many times, you finally got the courage to defend yourself, but all that did was get you a smack in the face.

So you ran, and now…you were fucking lost.

You just walked through the dense forest, hoping that you'd reach a clearing eventually. But after walking for what felt like an hour, you started to lose hope.

You hated the woods, and of course out of any direction, you had to run towards the woods. Hearing all the breaking of branches and animal noises really didn't help. The only real light you had was the light from the full moon.

You've always been easily spooked, so it was no surprise to you when you almost screamed when you heard the muffled thumps of what sounded like footsteps.

You turned to look every which way, but it was so dark that all you could see were shadows.

The footsteps kept getting closer and closer, and you felt more and more helpless.

"Hello?" You shouted out, a stupid idea really but you didn't know what else to do.

Suddenly, you heard growling. You quickly turned around only to be thrown to the ground, pinned down by an unknown creature.

You quickly came back to reality to see who or what your attacker was.

You were face to face with a large black wolf. You tried you push it off, but the creature was so heavy. It's breath was heavy on your face, looking down on you, almost seeming angry.

You started to cry. You weren't ready to die, you had so much to experience in the world. You didn't wanna be mauled to death by this dumb animal who didn't know any better, yet here you were.

Another stupid idea you had was to beg for your life, although you knew the animal wouldn't understand. And yet, "please don't. I don't wanna die." You muttered out, already trying to accept death.

The wolf suddenly stopped growling and got off you, almost like it actually understood you. But you were grateful anyway.

You sat up and scooted away, wide eyed at the creature that could kill you. A sudden pain in your upper arm made you hiss. You looked to see claw marks, bleeding. "At least I'm not dead…yet." You chuckled breathlessly.

You looked back at the wolf who was watching you intensely, you noticed he kept looking back at your arm, like he was regretful. "It'll heal." You voiced, then laughed. "Ugh, why I am talking to you like you can understand. I must be going crazy."

The wolf whimpered.

"If I stand up, you're not gonna kill me right?"

The wolf backed away a few steps, bowing his head slightly.

You carefully stood up, still aware that this was a wild animal that you did not want to spook. You looked around once more, unable to get your bearings. "If only wolves could navigate, then I'd be all set." You joked.

The wolf only tilted in head in confusion.

"I ran into the woods, without really paying attention to where I was going. Of course, now I'm lost. Fuck me." You groaned and sighed. "I'm probably gonna die here. Great. Maybe it would've been better if you had killed me, wolf friend."

The wolf suddenly walked towards you, making you step back cautiously. The wolf stopped, it then lowered itself to the ground and slowly crawled to you.

It was like it was trying to gain your trust, it made you feel weird. Why would an animal do this?

The wolf slowly stood up, lifting up his head and started to lick your hand. "Well, I'm not sure if you're apologizing or just tasting before you dine. Either way, it's cute."

The wolf bit onto your long sleeve gently, pulling you in a direction. "God, this is weird. I'm actually letting a dog drag me to who the fuck knows."

Eventually, the wolf let go of your sleeve and kept walking, assuming that you'd follow him. You did. You had no idea where to go anyways, so why not follow a wolf?

After a few minutes of following after the wolf, you legs started to ache. The wolf would occasionally look back to see if you were still following.

It was kind of like a leap of faith, following after an animal that seemed like it had some sort of intelligence. "If I wasn't as smart as I am, I would actually believe you could understand everything that's happened tonight." You chuckled softly.

The wolf suddenly stopped, and you were afraid that your luck had finally run out.

The wolf upturned it's head. You followed it's gaze, it was looking at the moon that was going down. You didn't bring your phone with you, but you figured it was almost sunrise.

The wolf turned to you and started to whimper. You furrowed your brows when it didn't pounce on you like thought it would, but instead, it kept whimpering.

"What's wrong, bud?" You asked softly.

The wolf started to lower itself to the forest floor. You had no idea what was happening. The wolf then laid on its side.

"Oh, no, no. You're not dying, are you?" You asked nervously. "I need you to get me out of this damn forest!" You kneeled beside the animal, seeing that it was closing it's eyes. "Damn it, bud. I was starting to get emotionally attached."

You didn't know what to do now that your buddy as taken the forever nap. You just decided to sit there, your back to the wolf. You thought that it would just be easier to find your way out of the woods when the sun came up.

You didn't expect to fall asleep, but you did. The one thing that woke you up was suddenly hearing fleshy noises from behind you, that scared you enough to wake up.

You stood up and backed away from the wolf, who you realized was the culprit of those noises.

You mouth was agape as you watched piece after piece of the wolf come apart. "What the fuck?" You almost screamed when you saw a human come out of the wolf. "I must be tripping balls…" You muttered, slowly walking towards the human.

The closer you got, the closer you recognized who the naked human was. "Peter?"

The boy suddenly opened his eyes and bolted upright, looking around frantically before landing his eyes on you. "…what…the…fuck…"

Peter smiled nervously. "I, uh…I can explain."

"Uh, yeah. Please explain why you were just a fuckin wolf and now you're not! What the fuck?!" You rambled, starting to hyperventilate.

Peter stood up and walked over to you when he saw you were starting to freak out. He out his hands in your shoulders, trying to steady you. "Hey, hey, hey, Y/N. Chill out, okay. Deep breaths, come on." He spoke softly.

You took many deep breaths, hoping you that you were just dreaming somehow. But after a couple minutes, you finally calmed down. You definitely weren't dreaming.

You started to blush furiously when you briefly glanced down. "Oh my god, you're naked."

Peter chuckled. "You just noticed this?"

"Sorry, I guess I was too busy noticing you coming out of a fucking wolf."

"Well, come on. My house isn't that far away." Peter said, taking your hand and pulling you along with him.

"Uh, wait." You said, taking off your jacket and handing it over to the Rumancek boy. "Don't want your dick to get hypothermia." You joked, chuckling.

Peter chuckled and nodded gratefully. "Right. Thanks." He grabbed the jacket and wrapped it around himself.

"So, do you like remember everything when you were a wolf?" You asked.

Peter sighed. "Here come the questions." He mumbled under his breath. "Yup. Everything."

"Oh." You whispered.

"What were you doing out here anyway, huh?" Peter asked.

"Oh, uh. I told you…just ran into the woods." You tried to deflect.

"Nobody runs into the woods without a reason."

You sighed. "I…I was running away from my dad. He's not a nice man. That's all I'll say."

Peter turned to look at you briefly, but turned back. "Oh." Is all Peter said.

"Have you always been a wolf?"

"Enough with the questions." Peter snapped.

It only took a few more minutes to get to Peter's rundown single wide trailer. He took a table cloth off and wrapped it around himself, handing you back your jacket.

"Well, thanks for getting me out of the woods." You said, getting Peter's attention. "I can find my way home from here. Or…to an urgent care." You chuckled.

Peter sighed. "You can't."

You raised an eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"Please, just stay here for today. There's...a lot to talk about now."

"If you're worried about me telling someone, I won't. I promise. I'm no snitch."

Peter sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "It's not that!" He snapped, making you flinch. "Just come in. Lynda will patch you up."

You sighed. "Fine."

Upon entering his home, you saw Peter’s mother sitting on the couch. "Peter, who's this?" Lynda asked nervously.

"This is Y/N. She was in the woods. I thought she could be…you know. I…scratched her." Peter told her.

Lynda suddenly was wearing a face of deep concern. "It was just a scratch, Ms. Rumancek! It's not too bad." You voiced.

"You scratched her?" Lynda asked, a bit too loud.

You started to get nervous. "Jesus, guys, it's just a flesh wound."

Everyone in the room seemed to sigh in unison.

"Okay, can someone explain what the hell is going on?!" You yelled.

Lynda walked up to you. "Why don't you sit down, dear." She suggested. Her tone was sweet enough to persuade you. "Peter, get dressed please." She ordered.

After a minute later, Peter came back in some sweats and sat next to you, making you even more agitated. "Okay, now that everyone's here…please fuckin explain." You huffed.

"When I was out there," Peter started, “I caught the scent of something bad. I followed it, and it lead me to you. The scent was so close. I thought it must’ve been you. But when I...attacked you...the scent started to go away.”

"So, you attacked me for no reason...okay. That's fucked up."

"So, the reason I asked you to stay was…" Peter sighed.

"Tell her, Peter." Lynda said.

"I don't know how well you know about werewolves, but usually, it's said that if a wolf scratched you…you'd turn into one."

You gasped, unable to speak. There's no way. There's just no way. So you laughed, making everyone confused. "Nice prank. You almost got me there."

"This isn't some joke, Y/N. You saw me out in those woods." Peter said angrily, Lynda putting her hand on his arm to try and calm him.

"We just wanna help you now, Y/N." Peter sighed.

After giving it some thought, you decided. "You guys are fucking crazy. No way I'm stuck turning into an animal my whole life." You stood up and walked to the door. "You're secret is safe with me, Peter, but that is it. Sorry…"

You made sure to slam the door on your way out.

~~~~~~~~~~

[ill-skillsgard]

i’ve been thinking about faust going on tour a lot. what would faith do with him being away for so long? would they text a lot or just not talk to each other for days because he’s too busy?! agh i just need to know!!!!

Warning: 18+ smut, phone sex, Faust getting a lil soft.

Note: I have SO many prompts for FxF still. I just wanted to write a little something to get me back into the groove. I miss the days when I could write an imagine, keep it short, and not feel like I have to include every little detail and make it 3K+ words. So I’m gonna take the pressure off myself and not go totally bananas with each imagine. I think it will help my overall productivity if I go back to how I used to write these types of things. Let me know what you guys think and enjoy!

Faust x Faith Masterpost [x]

Faust wrote out text messages and backspaced them enough to give up and call his girlfriend instead. What should have been a simple piece of information was causing too much of a dilemma because he knew Faith would get emotional upon receipt. He didn't want to deliver the news via text, but he also didn't want to hear her disappointed voice quivering over the phone.

It was too late to drive to the school, but far too late to put off the announcement any longer. So, Faust called her while he laid in bed wearing nothing but boxers, long black hair wet from a recent shower.

He counted four rings before she picked up and, in a groggy voice, said, "Faust? How come you're calling me so late? Is something wrong?"

Even her croaking, sleep-riddled words made the corner of his mouth lift. He sighed, wishing she was next to him instead of across town, sleeping on a single thin mattress. He spread out his limbs, noting all the extra room, her favourite comforter bunched in a heap at the foot of the bed.

"Nothing's wrong, babe," Faust said.

"What's up, beetle?"

"I have to tell you something before I go to sleep."

"Yes?"

Faust switched his phone over to his other ear and rolled onto his side, facing the wall where Faith usually lied when she slept over. "I'm going on tour in a couple of days."

There was a silence and Faust thought Faith might have fallen back asleep. 

"Babe?" He prompted.

"I'm here," Faith yawned. "So, you're leaving me for a couple of weeks?"

Faust grimaced. A chill crept over his shoulders as he prepared to deliver the second half of the news.

"We got picked up by Earsplice for three records. That means our first tour with them will be a long one. It's a big deal, but... I'll be gone for a while."

"How long is a while?" Faith asked in a small, helpless voice.

"At least two months."

"Two months?" She repeated.

Faust squeezed his eyes shut. The feebleness carrying her words scratched at his chest with brittle nails. It was precisely what he didn't want to hear. He'd never had to inform a girl of his departure before. Faust never cared to give anyone a heads-up when he went off on tour or up North to record for a month. There was never anyone who held enough importance to warrant notice. Now, he felt like he was doing something wrong.

"That means... You'll be gone over Christmas. And New Years. And—" Her voice petered off into a shudder. "I won't get to see you when I go on holiday."

"I know, babe. I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry," Faith said weakly. "This is your livelihood. It's just... What am I supposed to do without you?"

"You'll have school and work. You got friends, too."

"But..."

"I need you to be happy for me, Faith. 'Cause if you're not, I'll spend the entire tour worrying about you when I should do my thing."

Faith let out a small gasp. "I am! I am happy, Faust. I want you to be successful. But can't I be a little upset first? I thought I'd have my boyfriend with me over Christmas. I've never had anyone special before."

Faust nodded, though she couldn't see him. "Yeah, you can be upset for a bit, but then I need you to suck it up. No tears. No texting me at all hours of the day, begging me to come home. Understand?"

She went quiet for a few breaths, then whispered, "Okay." 

"Promise me you'll stay cool with all of this."

Faith hesitated.

"Promise me, Faith," he demanded.

"I promise," she replied.

"Good. Thank you."

"You're welcome..." Faith trailed off. "When do you leave?"

"Wednesday."

Faith whimpered. "Really? That's so soon."

"I know."

"Why so suddenly?"

"It wasn't that sudden. I just didn't have the balls to tell you until now."

"I wish you would have. Maybe then it wouldn't feel so awful."

Faust ran a hand through thick, damp strands of hair, tucking his palm behind his head as he bent his knees. He didn't want to hear any more moaning unless it was sexual. 

"Come spend the day with me tomorrow. Skip your classes."

"Okay," Faith blurted.

"This is the only time I'll ever encourage you to take school off."

Faith smiled to herself. On the other side of the dorm, her roommate shuffled over, pulling her blanket over her head. Faith dropped her voice even lower.

"I'll come first thing in the morning," she whispered.

"All right. Not too early, though."

"'Kay."

"And one more thing," Faust said.

Faith shifted closer to the wall, muffling her words with a pillow over her head. "Yes?"

She couldn't see, but Faust pushed his boxers low on his hips and palmed his cock until it fell over onto his stomach, thickening with blood.

"Video call me and show me your pussy."

"I can't!" Faith hissed. "My roommate—"

"I don't give a fuck. She's asleep, isn't she? Just put the phone between your legs under the covers, turn the flash on and play with it for me."

"Oh my goodness, Faust," she whined.

"Do it. Play with it the way I like," Faust pushed, already stroking his shaft and thumbing the pre-cum oozing from the tip. "Give your clit a few slaps. Pretend like I'm there."

Faith reached down between her legs, tucking her fingers inside her panties. "I wish you were here."

"We're going to play hard tomorrow, you all right with that? I wanna make up for all the time we'll lose."

"Yes," she breathed.

"And I mean hard, Faith. I'm gonna do things to you tomorrow I've never done to you before."

"Okay."

"Wear that collar you have. And those white cotton panties. The black tights... And that little polka-dot dress. Pig-tails. Yeah," Faust said with a moan. "And make sure that pussy is bald for me."

Faith shook from the desirous words pouring into her ear. "What are you going to do to me?"

"I'm gonna make you my little kitten. I'm gonna fuck all your little holes."

"Even my—?"

"Don't worry, baby. I know you'll never be able to take my cock in your ass. But that doesn't mean I can't give you a finger."

"Faust," she let out a muted gasp.

He stroked himself faster, squeezing around the head before sliding the heel of his palm down the underside to clasp his balls in a firm grip. "Didn't I tell you before? All of your holes belong to me. Even your pretty fuckin' asshole. Fuck... I can't wait to split you open. I want you on my cock right now."

Faith's nipples perked to the sound of his rumbling voice. She toyed with her clit and listened to Faust spit in his palm to lather his cock. The slick noises of his fast strokes came over the phone, and she turned up the volume to enjoy them better.

"Show me your pussy. Video call me back and show me your cunt."

Faith peered over the wall of bedding she used to shield herself from view, making sure her roommate was still sound asleep and unaware of the private cam-show about to take place.

"All right," she whispered. "I'll call you right back."

"Good," Faust said before hanging up.

Faust waited for the phone screen to come alive with the image of his girlfriend's fingers teasing herself, and when it did, he groaned and pressed his head back into his pillow.

"Fuck, that's good," he purred.

Faith muted the volume and couldn't hear his pleasured groans or praise, but that didn't stop her from getting turned on. Faust propped his phone on the bedside table and scooted up the bed, so most of his torso was in the shot. He gripped his cock and pumped in time with every circle Faith drew around her clit. The image of her middle finger disappearing between her lips made him shiver.

"God, yes, I want that pussy. Oh, fuck, I want to fuck that little hole. Give you this fat fucking cock until you can't take it anymore. Christ... I'm going to wreck that cunt tomorrow. Oh, yeah, slap it for me, baby. Slap that clit and finger-fuck that pussy. Fuck!"

An urge came over him, and he grabbed his phone to end the call. Then he called Faith back. She answered, confused and eager to keep going.

"Keep playing with yourself like that until I get there."

"What?" Faith asked.

"I'm coming over there right now. I don't give a fuck. I need you on my dick right now."

"Faust! I can't sneak you past the supervisors."

"Then come outside and fuck me in the car. You know what, yeah. Pack your stuff. Playtime starts tonight."

[atlafan]

Take it Slow - Part Sixty-Eight

a/n: okay this is my first shot at a harry:y/n fic, and it will be multiple parts. y/n had a bad experience with an ex over a year ago, and finally accepts her coworker and good friend Niall’s invitation to go on a blind date with his friend Harry.

Warnings: FLUFF SO MUCH FLUFF, and a wee bit of smut. 

Masterpost (all previous parts can be found in the masterpost)

The next day you and Harry drive out to a Lowe’s to check out their outdoor section. Your balcony wasn’t huge, but it was large enough to fit a small table a few chairs, with room to fit a grill.

“These chairs are comfy.” You say sitting down on one of them. “Come sit, tell me what you think.” Harry shrugs and takes a seat in your lap, and you start laughing.

“Rather comfortable I’d say.” He moves his butt from side to side. “Could really see myself sittin’ on this outside.”

“Harry!” You squeal. “Get your big butt off of me, we’re in public!” You giggle. He turns to look at you.

“Oh, so when we’re in public you don’t want this ass, but at home-“

“Harry!” Your face goes beat red, and he stands up. You stand up and shake your head at him. “Please, just sit in the chair.”

“Geeze, didn’t think you’d get all flustered.” He sits down. “This genuinely is a nice chair, I think we should get a few.” He stands up and takes your hand. “What do you think of a glass table, this round one looks nice?”

“Good eye, I agree.” He kisses your temple, and then you go to look at the grills.

“We don’t need a huge one right now, just somethin’ to get the job done.”

“I don’t even know how often we’d use it, we don’t eat meat.”

“Yeah, but we could throw veggie burgers on it, or just regular veggies. Corn, god, I love corn on the cob in the summer.”

“Me too, actually.”

You both pick one out that you like, and find an associate to order everything up. The gift card your dad gave you was a big help. They said they’d be able to deliver everything by the middle of the week. Harry walks over to the paint section to show you some of the colors he’s thinking for his office.

“Lou called me yesterday, forgot to tell you.” Harry says on your drive home.

“Oh? Everything okay?”

“Oh yeah, everything’s fine. They’ve just pushed the date off a little later. El wants to wait until the baby’s born. Said she didn’t want to be pregnant in all of her photos.”

“Don’t blame her for that.”

“Neither does he. Plus it just gives them more time to save up for everything.”

“How’s she doing?”

“Oh, she’s good, about to start her second trimester. Lou said you can actually see her bump. He’s been enjoying actually gettin’ to be a part of things this time. He didn’t get to do any of the pre-baby stuff with his ex, other than a few doctor’s appointments. He said every night he rests his head her stomach and like talks to the baby.”

“That is the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“I’d do the same thing, you know?”

“I’m sure you would. You’d have a stack of bedtime stories ready to go too.”

“Mhm, and I’d sing to it.”

“Harry…you don’t sing now.”

“I do sometimes.”

“Only if the volume’s turned all the way up.”

“Maybe I get a little self-conscious because you’re such a good singer.”

“I am not, stop it.”

“You’re more confident.”

“Doesn’t mean I sound good. Although, when I can actually hear you, I have to say, you have a lovely voice.” He blushes and takes your hand to kiss it.

You get home and start up a few chores. Your sheets were in desperate need of a wash. Harry scrubs down the kitchen while you take care of the living room.

“We can go to the grocery store tomorrow right? I don’t really feel like goin’ back out.” He says.

“Of course, no rush with that. Just wanted to get some of the cleaning done today.” Harry’s phone goes off, and he answers it.

“Hello?” He furrows his brows and then his face softens. “Oh hey! Yeah, no, just took me a second, how are you?” He walks away from you. You shrug and sit on the sofa, turning the TV on. About twenty minutes later he comes over to sit down next to you.

“Who was that?”

“Old friend from uni who lives up in Vermont.”

“Oh?”

“He, uh, breeds labradoodles. Two of ‘em just had a fresh littler.”

“How often do you talk to this friend?” You raise an eyebrow at him.

“Once in a while. Anyways, I know your allergies get bad, but labradoodles-“

“Are you asking me if I want a dog?”

“A puppy.” He corrects you. “And for free at that.”

“Dogs are like three thousand dollars, he’s just going to give you one for free?”

“He owes me a favor.”

“For what?”

“None of your business.”

“Harry Edward Styles.” You gasp.

“Y/F/N Y/M/N Y/L/N.” He crosses his arms. “Do you want have a dog with me or not?”

“Do you think now’s the right time? We’re both always so busy.”

“I could bring it to the studio with me, it’ll be like havin’ a shop dog.”

“That’s true.”

“And I know a dog is a lot different than havin’ a kid, but I think it would help with the baby fever.”

“You’re just saying that.”

“I mean it! Please, please can we get the puppy? He sent me some pictures, this one would be ours.” He shoves his phone in your face, and you see the cutest little brown haired puppy you’ve ever seen.

“Harry, can we even afford a dog with everything going on right now?”

“Think we could manage it. Buy the food in bulk. It’s the vet visits at the beginning, and then it shouldn’t be too bad.”

“Is this a boy or a girl? Not that it really matters…”

“Think it’s a boy.”

“What would we name him?” Harry’s grin grows.

“Are you saying we can get the dog?”

“Obviously! Look at how cute he is!” Harry takes you in his arms and practically squeals.

“We can name him, uh, whatever you want, lemme call my friend back.” He gets up and makes the call. He comes back a few minutes later, very excited. “Said the pup’ll be at eight weeks this week, so we can pick him up next weekend if we want.”

“Next weekend?! We have to get so much stuff. Food, bowls, a collar, a tag. We’ll have to register him at town hall.” Harry grabs your face and kisses you.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” You sigh. “Now, what should we name him, let me see the picture again.” He hands you his phone. ‘What names do you like?”

“Max?” You look at him and scrunch your face.

“That’s so generic. What about Peter?”

“Peter?!”

“Yeah, we could call him Pete.”

“We are not namin’ our dog Peter.” Harry gasps and snaps his fingers. “I’ve got it.”

“What?”

“Winston.”

“Winston?”

“How fuckin’ cute would that be?”

“Winston Styles?”

“Oh, so the dog would have my last name?”

“Duh, he’s going to be our baby isn’t he?” You think for a second. “What about Buster?”

“Buster Styles…that could work.” You both look at the picture again. “He looks like a Buster.” He throws his arm around you.

“Yeah, he does.”

//

“You’re gettin’ a dog?!” Niall says in the car Monday morning.

“Yup, his name is going to be Buster. He’s so cute Niall.”

“That’s a huge step.”

“Oh, and being on the same lease together isn’t?” You joke.

“No, it’s just…like if something happened…now a dog is in the middle of it.”

“Something as in us breaking up? Are you stupid?” He makes a face at you. “Niall, Harry and I are happier than we’ve ever been, why would you even say something like that?”

“I don’t know…just gotta think about those things sometimes. So, like, hypothetically speaking, you truly plan to marry Harry some day?”

“It’s not even a hypothetical, Niall. That’s the plan.” He smiles at you.

“Can’t wait for you two to fight over which weddin’ party I’ll be in.”

“Mine of course.” You scoff. “Fuck him.” You both laugh.  

//

Harry and your dad finish all of the major renovations by Wednesday, which leaves him to start painting on Thursday. He told Rachel he’d prime everything. She came in after her school day was over to help him finish it up.

“I’ll be able to come after work tomorrow to start Mariah’s office. It looks so great in here.”

“Yeah, we did pretty good right?”

“Harry, can I ask you something?” He puts the paint roller down and looks at her. Rachel looked cute today, she had these white painters’ overalls on with splashes of old paint all over them. Harry just had old jeans he didn’t care about on and a t-shirt.

“Course.”

“We never really get alone time to talk. I guess, I just wanna know…um, I really care about Y/N, she’s one of my best friends…and I know you both love each other, but you’d never do anything to hurt her right?”

“Oh my god, no, of course not.”

“I care about her a lot, and I’ve never really liked any of the guys she’s dated. I like you, obviously, but I’ll be honest, it took me some time to warm up to you.”

“Really? Why didn’t you ever say anything to me?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugs. “I was honestly shocked when she told me you wanted to set me up with someone, I didn’t know you cared that much. Mariah makes me really happy, so I’m sort of grateful for you.” She laughs.

“I felt terrible when all that stuff with Lora happened.” He sighs. “I’m really happy things are working out so well with you and Mariah.” You both grab the paint rollers and continue to prime the walls. “I want you to know…I’m in it for the long haul with Y/N.” She looks at you.

“What does that mean exactly? I know you two are getting a dog soon…”

“Yup, his name is gonna be Buster.” He smiles. “We’re drivin’ up to Vermont early Saturday morning. We’re gonna spend the night in the Burlington area, and then get the puppy Sunday.”

“That’ll be nice…what comes after the dog though?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like, okay, you’re living together, and now you’re getting this dog with her…it’s all so…grown up.” Harry starts laughing.

“You make it sound like I’m this thirty-year-old dude sweepin’ her off from her life.”

“It’s just…last time a friend settled down we never saw her anymore, and you know how the rest of it went. Getting a dog with someone is like the test to see how you’d be as a parent. I feel like all of a sudden you two are gonna be in the suburbs with two kids and we’ll never see her anymore. Practically lost her once after the whole thing with Jake, I can’t lose her again.” Rachel feels tears prick at her eyes.

“Hey, woah, I’m not takin’ her away from anyone. And she’s told me she doesn’t exactly want to move out of the city yet either. There’s no rush for anything.”

“But you two talk about having babies all the time.”

“Not all the time.”

“Harry.”

“Well, it’s important to talk about don’t you think? Be on the same page with your partner.”

“You wanna marry her?”

“At some point, yeah.” She smiles and nods.

“You know, I had a huge crush on her when we first met.” She chuckles. “When we became really good friends, I eventually told her. I think we both cried. She told me she felt terrible that she couldn’t return my feelings. Like she was genuinely torn about it. I think it made us closer. I got over it of course, but that feeling of just wanting what’s best for her will always linger. When we got to spend that semester in California together it made me realize that she’s so special, you know? She deserves the world.”

“And I wanna give it to her.” He puts everything down. “Would it be alright if we hugged?” He had tears in his eyes too. She puts everything down and opens her arms up. They share a nice embrace. You and Mariah walk in with dinner. Mariah coughs loudly to get their attention.

“We just had to go and date the two biggest blubber bags out there, didn’t we?” She says to you and you start laughing.

“What the hell are we gonna do with you two, what happened?”

“We were having a nice moment until you two ruined it.” Rachel says sticking her tongue out at you. You stick yours out back. “What you bring for dinner?” She asks excitedly, walking over to Mariah to give her a kiss.

“Sushi.” She smiles.

“Got some foldin’ chairs in the back, hold on.” Harry says and goes to get them. He stops short, turns around to kiss you, and then goes to get them.

“He’s cute.” Rachel says.

“Yeah, he is.” You smile.

Harry comes back with four folding chairs so you all can sit and eat.

“Harry, if you leave me the keys I can come in this weekend to paint while you’re gone.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I don’t mind. I can get Mariah’s office and the kitchen done easily. Then when you get back we can do the rest.”

“Then it’s just the furniture right?” Mariah asks.

“Yeah, we’re going to have a waiting area over there.” Harry points. “Two small love seats, and then Isaac’s desk should be here any day. Got him one that he can stand up at too like he’s been wantin’. And then our desks will be here in a couple of weeks along with our chairs. We can start bringing the equipment in once the painting is done.”

“I’m so excited, I can’t wait to put my two weeks in. It’s been insufferable without you there.”

“Right, because my attitude just brightened the whole place up.” He says sarcastically, making you all laugh.

“I swear I thought Julia was going to kill herself when she saw your office all cleared out after you left. Luckily, her and Dana are done in two weeks. We might actually hire Dana for the summer. Paige really enjoyed her help.” Harry nods. The mention of Julia’s name makes you cringe.

“You didn’t tell any of them where I went did you?”

“No, but everyone hounded me. I just told them you wanted to focus on your freelance work. Not like it was a lie.” She shrugs.

“I just don’t want any of them findin’ me. Isaac’s kept quiet?”

“Mhm, he’s just excited to get out of there too.”

The four of you finish eating, and you tell Harry you’ll see him at home while him and Rachel finish up. You’re in your pj’s, cuddled up on the sofa watching TV when he gets in. He strips all of his clothes off, besides his boxers, and plops down next to you.

“Harry…”

“Didn’t wanna get paint anywhere.” He yawns. “How’s my baby?” He kisses your cheek.

“Good.” You giggle.

“Just imagine, you’ll have a little pup all cuddled up with you on these later nights.”

“Mhm, it’ll be nice.” You yawn. “I need to set up the little bed inside the crate for him. I mean it, he’s not sleeping in the bed with us.”

“I never disagreed with you, but if he starts cryin’ you can be the one to comfort him.”

“He won’t cry because he won’t know any different. We just need to make the crate a safe space, not a punishment, then he’ll have no problem sleeping in it. Then when he gets a little older we can take the bed out of the crate and he’ll know that’s his bed.”

“You know I’m kind of looking forward to being away for the night.”

“Me too, I’m glad we’re making a weekend of it. I’ve never been to the Ben and Jerry’s factory, I’m so excited.”

“There’s a cider mill right down the road from there too that we should check out.”

“I’ve never been to Burlington either. I think I’ve been to Vermont like once in my life.” You laugh. “We never really had a reason to go.”

“The lads and I would head up there to buy weed on the cheap.” He says nonchalantly. “You know, before it was legal here.”

“Hm, interesting.”

“Alright, miss straight edge.”

“I’m not judging.”

“Mhm, yeah. There’s worse drugs out there, you know?”

“Yeah, like mushrooms.”

“Should’ve never told you that.” He shakes his head.

“Well, you did.” You crawl into his lap and he lays back so you can lay on him. “Hi.” You nuzzle into his chest.

“Hi baby.”

“What were you and Rachel doing earlier, when we walked in?”

“We just had a moment is all.” He strokes your hair and rubs your scalp. “She…really cares about you.”

“Yeah.” You look up at him. “She’s the best.” You smile and lean in to kiss him. “So are you.” You nuzzle your nose to his. “I love you so much, I’m really happy.”

“I love you too, darlin’. I’m happy too.” You kiss for a while on the couch before you both start to feel sleepy. Then it’s off to bed.

//

You both get up early Saturday to get to Vermont. It would be along, and annoying drive. You took some pills to help you not get carsick. Harry was an excellent driver, but you knew there would be a lot of back roads involved at some point.

You put on some cuffed jeans and a white short sleeve crop top. You pair it with a blue cardigan and your white tennis shoes. Harry has a loose pair of jeans on and a band t-shirt.

“I’m so happy it’s gettin’ warmer out.”

“Me too.” You look around. “Everything’s all set up for him.”

“Yup.” He kisses you and grabs the overnight bags. “Let’s go.”

Harry lets you put a playlist on. A mix of old and new songs. You gasp when a particular song comes on. You’ve Made Me So Very Happy by Blood Sweat & Tears.

“Oh my god I love this song!” You turn the volume up and sing along. “Have you heard this before?”

“Yeah, I thought a woman sang it.”

“There are a ton of covers. I think I like this one the best.”

You continue to sing while Harry listens to the lyrics. Every word perfectly describes how he feels about you.

I chose you for the one. Now I'm having so much fun… You treated me so kind, I'm about to lose my mind…You made me so very happy. I'm so glad you came into my life…

Harry makes a mental note of the song for future use, especially when he sees how much you love it. You hold his hand while you sing. You must resonate with the lyrics too.

You eventually make to the Ben and Jerry’s ice cream factory. You couldn’t wait to stretch your legs. You practically run inside.

“I need to pee so bad!” Harry laughs at you while you find a bathroom.

“Tour’s only five bucks a person, I got us two tickets.” He says when you come back. You thank him and wait to be called in with the rest of the group.

A short movie is shown, and then you all are brought in to see how the ice cream is packaged and produced. Next you’re brought downstairs where they give you a sample to try.

“Mm, oh my fucking god.” You can help but moan when you lick at the chocolate malt ice cream. Harry looks at you. “You have to at least try it.”

“I don’t like chocolate ice cream. And you better be careful that’s gonna upset your stomach.”

“No it won’t it’s only a little, and it’s soooo good.” You lick at it again and smile. “That’s some good shit, wow.”

When you’re done you take a picture together outside in front of the sign. You drive down the street to the cider mill. You go inside and see all of the things that can be made with cider and or syrup.

“Look Harry, a maple syrup hot sauce, this could be fun to try.”

“Sure.” He smiles.

“Are you feeling tired? I could drive the rest of the way to the hotel.”

“Would you mind? It would be nice to close my eyes for a bit.”

“Of course.” You kiss him on the cheek, pay for your things and head to the car.

You kept the music volume low while he slept. You pulled into the parking lot of the small hotel. It was really more like an inn.

“Baby, we’re here.”

“Hm? Oh, okay.” He stretches and gets out of the car. He grabs your bags and you both go in to check in.

You get into the room and put everything down. You both wash up and head back down to the car. You drive into Burlington and pay to park near Church Street.

“Look at all the shopping! And the lake! Who knew there was such a populated area?” You laugh.

“Well, UVM is like right over there.” He nudges you.

“Shut up.” You nudge him back.

You both do a little shopping before finding a nice vegetarian place to eat at. After dinner you head down to walk along the peer near the lake.

“I can’t wait to see Buster tomorrow, Harry.”

“Me too, baby.” He holds your hand as you walk.

“Do you think he’ll like us?”

“Of course!” He laughs. “We’ll be the best parents ever.”

You drive back to the hotel and you both get settled in for the night. You both do your nightly routines and get into bed. You face each other, limbs getting tangled in each other. Harry’s leg slides between yours, and he cups your cheeks in his hand. He pulls your face closer to his and your lips connect. You grind slightly against his lig, and he pushes it against you harder. A small moan leaves your lips. You tug at his shoulder to pull him on top of you.

He runs his fingers over your folds and fingers you for a bit to get you ready for him. You wrap your legs around him as he enters you and he kisses you. He buries his head in your neck while he rocks in and out of you. You grab one of his hands you lace your fingers together.

“Harry.” You moan. “Feels so good.” You look up at him and he’s already looking down at you. You kiss each other, and you pull him closer with your legs.

“Y/N.” He moans into your ear. “Love you so much.”

“I, ngh, love you too.”

He rocks in and out of your faster, and then with a sharp thrust, he gets in really deep and stays there. You grind against him as your tongue finds his.

“Oh my god, shit, shit, shit, Harry!” You release around his cock. You squeeze his hand tightly.

He picks up the pace again, chasing his own high. He pants and groans, and with another moan of your name he comes inside of you. He collapses next to you. You both kiss again, not leaving anytime to your breaths. He bites your bottom lip and sucks it into his mouth.

“I’m getting hard again.” He says against your lips.

“Want me to suck on it?”

“Please.”

He lays on his back and you get between his legs. Sure enough he was hard again. You don’t waste anytime getting your mouth on him.

“Fuck.” He groans. He thrusts up and you take him deeper down your throat. You swallow against him and cradle his balls. He grips at your hair and you start bobbing up and down him. “Shit, I’m gonna come.”

You give him a thumbs up as you keep your mouth on him. His come shoots into your mouth, and you take all of it. You come off him and swallow.

“Thank you.” He says, out of breath.

“Mm, my pleasure.”

You get up, use the toilet, and rinse your mouth out. You crawl back into bed, and he wraps himself around you. He kisses the back of your neck a few times before completely settling in.

//

The next morning you both get everything together, and head out to where Harry’s friend lives. It was only about thirty minutes later.

“Adam!” Harry says when he sees his friend coming out to greet him. “Hey, mate!”

“Harry!” The hug each other. “It’s been ages!” Another Brit, how interesting.

“Adam, this is my girlfriend, Y/N.”

“Hey, greet to meet yeh!”

“Same to you.” You shake his hand.

“Pup’s in the barn, follow me.”

You take Harry’s hand and follow Adam around to the barn. You hang back while he goes over to the pen they’re in.

“What’s wrong?” Harry asks.

“I don’t want to watch him take him away from his mumma.”

“Oh, sweetie…”

Adam comes over cradling the puppy, and you burst into tears when he hands Buster to you. Harry and Adam look at each other and then look at you.

“He’s so beautiful, thank you.” The puppy yips, gives you a lick on the chin, and nestles into your arms. “Harry, he’s so cute.” You say through tears and a high pitched voice. “Here, you take him.”

He smiles and takes him from you. He holds him up in the air at first and then cradles him.

“He’s perfect.”

After chatting with Adam a bit longer, you take Buster out to the car. You had a car-seat for him, but you decide to hold him instead. You just didn’t wanna let him go. Harry would occasionally reach over and scratch his little head. He slept for most of the ride. You stopped a couple of times to give him some water and let him pee.

When you finally get home you let him scamper and sniff around. When it looks like he’s about to pee you pick him up and put him on a piddle pad.

“It’ll be easy enough to let him out for a wee, can just bring him to the balcony.”

“What and have our plants and new furniture smell like piss? No, no, we’ll be taking him out. The piddle pads will work for now. We’ll have to take him out every hour so he gets used to it. C’mon baby, are you hungry?”

“Actually, yeah, I a-“

“Harry, I was talking to Buster.” You shake your head at him and laugh. You whistle to Buster and he follows you. You scoop out some dog food and put it into his bowl. You stick your fingers into the dry food while he eats.

“What are you doin’?”

“I read about this. It helps the dog know not to bite you if you feed it treats and stuff. It needs to know it shouldn’t be rough with you.” Buster eats what he wants and then laps at his water bowl. “He’s just so tiny, I can’t get over it.” You pat the top of his head. “Okay, in like fifteen minutes we should take him out. I’m working from home tomorrow so I can help house train him.”

“Sounds good.” He smiles. “So…can we eat dinner then/”

“Sure, if you feel like whipping something up. I’ll have to take him to get registered with the city tomorrow. I’ll call the vet too to set up a check up like Adam said.”

“Thank you.” He kisses you and goes into the kitchen. Buster follows him in and so do you.

You take buster out to do his business every hour like you said. You ring a little bell each time you take him out too. Eventually the three of you get snuggled up on the couch together.

“Oh, let’s take a selfie, then all our friends can help welcome him.” You take your phone out and sit between Harry’s legs, facing away from him. You hold Buster up to your chest so you can get him in the picture. Harry kisses your temple right as you snap the shot. “God, I’m gonna cry again.”

“I couldn’t believe how emotional you got, usually I’m the mess.”

“I know!” The dog huffs. “Sorry baby, mumma didn’t mean to be so loud.” You coo as you strokes his hair.

Harry was so at peace. Hearing yourself refer to yourself as mumma thrilled him. When it was time for sleep, you put Buster inside his crate with his cozy bed. You stuck the crate in the hall outside your bedroom. You didn’t want to put it in the bedroom since he would wanna get on the bed with you. You start getting teary eyed when you get into bed.

“What is it, love?”

“I just feel bad leaving him out there all alone, I don’t want him to wake up scared.”

“Do you want to bring him in here with us?”

“No, we need to be stern about this. He needs to know our bed is for us, and his bed is for him. I’ll be okay.” You wipe your eyes.

“C’mere.” You lay your head on his chest and sigh.

Luckily, Buster didn’t make much of a peep throughout the night, and you and Harry were able to sleep just fine. Your little life with Harry was growing, and you couldn’t be happier. You weren’t sure if you were ready for the responsibility of having a dog, but somehow you ended up being a natural, and Harry took note right away.

[seemslegitflapjacks]

Chapter 4: Friends?

I spent the weekend helping move stuff around. I woke up on Monday feeling like someone’s old grandpa that got his back blown out playing golf. I sat up, turning as I popped my back, rolling out of bed to get ready for the first day of school here. Time to see what the kids here would like.I bet it’s gonna be pleasant with the way I’m lookin. Long hair, pretty face. You get the drift. I hopped down from my bed, grabbing whatever clothes looked decent. It was a pair of ripped blue jeans, a baseball t-shirt, and my normal pair of converse. I swiftly walked past my dresser, grabbing a ponytail to put my hair up.

“Why you wearin’ your hair up like a girl?” He asked, his eyes a bit narrowed

“I like it.” I replied, stuffing my face.

“You sure kid? Don’t wanna be mistaken for a girl.” My dad told me.

“Peter leave the boy alone.” My mom scolded.

My dad let out a sigh as he got up to go to work, giving my mom a kiss goodbye as he walked out the door.

“You boys better be ready, don’t miss the bus.” My mom reminded us, giving Liu and I a kiss on the cheek as she left for work after my dad.

I washed off my plate, putting it in the dishwasher. Liu went to grab his bag while I went and fed the dog and cat. We swung on our bags as we left the house. The sky overhead a pretty blue with fluffy clouds. We walked down the street, standing near a palm tree at the front of the neighborhood. The hot morning sun sizzled around us. It was quiet for a few minutes, Liu and I just stood together under the tree. All was peaceful until we heard what sounded like wheels rolling up against the pavement.

I turned my head, seeing a trio of boys skating towards us. The one in the middle had bright curly red hair and was covered in freckles, while another one was stocky and had a heavy build with a Chad cut, and the last one was the guy I saw a few days ago playing the guitar. I already knew these guys were trouble. You know an egocentric asshat when you see one. And this one came in the form of a redheaded teenage boy wearing Aeropostale and Vans.

“Well, look what we got here!” The redhead laughed, his Boston accent not helping his case, “New meat huh? Oi! Boys c’mere!” He hollered back to his friends who skated over.

As they skated over, I looked over to Liu, who had quickly diverted his attention from his phone to the boys in front of us. The trio stopped as the redhead quickly kicked his skateboard up into his arms.

“So, what brings you two to town?” He asked, leaning over me with a smirk on his face.

“Our dad’s job.” Liu answered.

“Well, I’d like to introduce us. I’m Randy, over there’s Keith, and that’s Troy.” Randy told us, pointing to both of his friends.

“Nice to meet y’all.” Liu told them, he and Randy shaking hands.

“So, you two wanna hang with us after school at the skatepark?” Randy asked, raising his eyebrows to me.

“Sure.” I replied.

“See ya later princess, here’s my number.” He winked, quickly slipping me a torn up piece of scratch paper before he and the other two skated off.

I whipped my head back concerned, did he, did he just call me princess? I heard the snickering of the Keith guy as he skated past. It was quiet for a few seconds, before Liu absolutely lost his shit laughing at what had just happened.

“Shut the fuck up asshat it ain’t funny!” I yelled.

“He thought you were a girl-” He cackled out.

I wanted to slap the smirk off his face so badly. But it actually was funny. Poor sap had a nice surprise coming to him.

“Wait what if I text him?” I asked as I began to start laughing myself.

“Do it do it do it!” Liu chanted as I quickly pulled out my phone.

“Catfish time.” I commented, the two of us erupting into scream laughter.

After a few minutes of pretending to flirt with that Randy guy, the bus eventually pulled up. The two of us stepped on, all the kids talking over seats and listening to music on their phones. I looked around, spotting an empty seat in the back for Liu and I to sit in. Once we sat down, a bunch of kids gave us concerned looks. It made me feel a bit weird, but whatever, It’s probably cause we’re the new kids. Typical stuff. Eventually, after a few stops we got to this one. An oddly tall boy with blonde hair and beady brown eyes getting on the bus. A bunch of kids turning their heads back to us. The guy walked down the aisle, before stopping in front of us.

“Move.” He demanded.

“No.” I shot back, already feeling the adrenaline ramp up in my veins.

“That’s my seat you twats, fuckin move.” The guy bellowed lowly.

‘“Don’t see your name on it.” I snapped back.

“You’re really fuckin lucky I don’t hit girls.” He growled.

I smirked, watching the guy move to another seat, shoving some kid back as he sat down. Being confused as a girl wasn’t as bad as I thought it was.

“You’re gonna get us killed if you keep stepping up to dudes ten times your size bro.” Liu spoke.

“We only get killed if we get caught.” I replied as Liu rolled his eyes in response.

[thompsborn]

fic where harley is a doctor that works w helen cho that sees peter often because of how much he gets hurt from being spider-man? and they fall in love bc they r already smitten for each other bc why wouldn't they be

i didn’t know how much i needed an au like this until you sent it omg

[read on ao3]

—

He’s in the middle of taking a sip of coffee when the alarm goes off.

“Mister Keener,” Friday says, as he’s cursing over the hot coffee that’s soaking into the front of his shirt. Thankfully, it’s not hot enough to actually burn him, but that doesn’t make it any less unpleasant. “Your assistance is needed in the Medical Wing.”

Harley frowns. “What time is it?”

“Four fifty eight in the morning, Mister Keener.”

“Jesus, really?” Harley sets his mug down and turns his arm over to look at his watch. His brows shoot up towards his hairline, surprised. “Wow. Okay. Didn’t realize it was... Jesus. Alright.”

Friday sounds almost amused when she tells him, “Doctor Cho is insisting you hurry.”

Harley sighs. “Yeah, okay. On my way.”

At this time of the night, the only medical staff on hand are the ones who live close by—like Helen, who has an apartment less than a two minute walk away—and those who live on site, like Harley, who’s had his own floor in the tower since he was fifteen and told Tony over a phone call that he was thinking about coming to New York once he was done with high school. Because of this, Harley isn’t all that surprised to find that it’s only him and Helen that show up in the MedBay—if anything, it’s what he expected.

And he should have expected who, exactly, they’re treating in the middle of the night, but he still finds himself mildly surprised when he comes face to face with Peter’s sheepish grin.

“Of course it’s you,” Harley says, standing at the foot of the hospital bed with his arms crossed over his chest. “Who else would be waking me up like this?”

“Don’t lie to me,” Peter says, sheepish grin turning a bit snarky. “You weren’t asleep.”

Harley purses his lips. “I could’ve been.”

Peter rolls his eyes, but doesn’t get the chance to respond before Helen is hovering by his side, snapping her gloves into place and instructing, “Friday, give me the run down.“

“Mister Parker has several second degree burns along his left leg and left arm,” Friday responds. “His right wrist is broken, and there appears to be a laceration along his abdomen.”

Harley winces in sympathy. “Rough night?”

Peter tries to shrug, but the movement makes his features twist up in a flash of pain. His voice comes out a bit strained when he says, “You could say that. There was—house fire. Not fun.”

“Get everyone out?” Harley asks, if only to provide a slight distraction as Helen assesses the broken wrist, likely checking to see if it needs to be reset or if it’ll be able to heal properly as it is. Peter tries for a grin.

“All of ‘em. Even the kids pet turtle.”

Harley pats Peter’s right knee, careful to remember that it’s his left leg with the burns. “Job well done, Spider-Man.”

“Harley,” Helen says, grabbing his attention. She’s apparently deemed Peter’s wrist not a main concern and is already peeling Peter’s suit off of him. Harley snaps into focus instantly, listening intently as Helen tells him, “I need you to take care of the laceration while I get started on the burns. When that’s done, we need to get that wrist in a cast until it heals.”

Peter pouts. “A cast? Really?”

Helen looks at him sharply. “Last time we didn’t put you in a cast, you managed to re-break your arm before it could heal. Twice.”

Peter’s pout vanishes with a meek chuckle. “It was an accident?” he offers.

“You, Peter Parker,” Helen says, averting her attention back to his burns as she speaks, “are somehow my best and my worst patient of all time. And I’m Tony Stark’s doctor, too, so that says a whole lot about you.”

“Hey—” Peter cuts off with a hiss as Harley starts to disinfect the large cut on his side. Harley offers an apologetic half smile that Peter waves away with another wince and a wobbly sort of grin. “I’m not worse than Mr. Stark.”

Helen hums, high pitched and teasing.

“I’m not,” Peter insists. “I’m not!”

“Believe what you want,” Helen tells him.

Peter huffs. “Why are you being mean to me? Aren’t doctors supposed to be nice to their patients? Isn’t that, like, a thing?”

Harley snorts when Helen says, “Next time, don’t wake me up at four in the morning with second degree burns and a broken wrist, and maybe then I’ll be nicer to you, hm?”

—

The thing is, Harley didn’t plan on this.

As in, growing up, he was sure that what he wanted was to be a mechanic. He loved to build, take apart, recreate, understand. It’s all he ever did. Hell, when Tony Frickin’ Stark broke into his garage, the guy ended up making Harley his own mechanic heaven to say thanks for helping him out.

And Harley still loves all of that, to be fair—he spends a lot of his free time tinkering in Tony’s lab now, helping him out with whatever the man’s working on and often working on his own fun little projects on the side—but it’s not his main drive. It’s not the center of his world.

He thinks it started when he saved Tony.

In a way, anyway—he had only been twelve at the time, and it’s not like twelve year olds are exactly apt on having life changing realizations that change the course of their future. Still, he was a twelve year old that saved Tony Stark’s life, and there was some kind of thrill, almost. It was hard to explain then, and Harley isn’t sure if he could put it into words now, but the feeling had made his fingers feel all tingly and his heart thud heavily in his chest. It was similar to when he built his first successful bot and it came whirring to life, only the feeling was intensified.

He felt like he was doing what he was supposed to be doing. He knew he wanted to save lives.

“You’re getting better,” Helen tells him, after Harley’s helped the medical team with bandaging up the members of the Avengers that just returned from a mission. None of the wounds had been major, mostly just scrapes and bruises, but it’s the most amount of people Harley has helped treat at once, which is a big step.

Harley shrugs, drying off his hands, having just finished washing them. “You’re a good teacher.”

Helen chuckles at that. “How are your classes?”

“Good,” Harley answers, nodding his head. “Kinda boring. I know most of it already, thanks to all the training you’ve given me, but that‘s not really new. I knew everything they taught me in high school, too.”

“You sound like Peter when you say that,” Helen muses, an amused quirk to her brow.

Harley rolls his eyes. “Y’know, people keep saying that, but I only see him when he’s bleeding out and that doesn’t make it feel like we’re all that similar.”

“Oh, you’re similar, alright,” Helen says, laughing a bit. “You’re both genius kids who bust your asses off to save people’s lives.”

Wrinkling his nose, Harley says, “But I don’t do it in spandex. Key difference there, doc.”

Helen holds her hands up in some kind of surrender. “Just saying, you two are alike.”

“I’ll make sure to tell him you said that next time he breaks his leg,” Harley quips.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Friday interjects, “but Spider-Man is reportedly injured and heading to the tower now. ETA of six and a half minutes.”

Harley rolls his eyes up to the ceiling with an exasperated sigh. Helen can only laugh.

—

“Ow. Ow, ow—oh, Jesus, that’s—ow—!”

“Sorry,” Harley says, only averting his eyes for a second to flash Peter an apologetic look before focusing back on the stitches he’s giving him.

Peter curses, slamming his left fist into his own thigh as Harley pushes the needle through. “This sucks,” he complains, clenching his jaw and grinding his teeth. “This is—why is this worse than getting stabbed? Why do I prefer getting stabbed over this? This blows.”

“You need to stop moving,” Harley tells him.

Making an indignant sort of noise, Peter asks, “How the hell am I—I can’t stop moving! This hurts, man, like—like, really fuckin’ hurts!”

“Moving makes it worse, dipshit,” Harley retorts, fighting the urge to roll his eyes.

“You know what else makes it worse?” Peter glares at the wall. “Not having pain killers.”

Harley does roll his eyes now. “Not my job. I just give you the drugs, I don’t make them.”

“I know, but Mr. Stark isn’t here for me to bitch at, so I’m complaining to you about it instead.”

Harley can’t help the way that he snorts at that, finishing off the last of the stitches as he does so. “I usually don’t like to listen to someone complain while I’m working.”

“Sucks to suck,” Peter replies. “Are you done?”

“Yep.” Harley leans back, taking off his gloves and tossing them into the trash. “Any other injuries? Stab wounds? Broken bones?”

Peter hums, tilting his head from side to side. “I don’t think so. Friday?”

“All clear, Mr. Parker.”

Harley frowns. “The fact that you had to ask worries me.”

Peter shrugs. “I get hurt a lot. Kinda used to it.”

“Still,” Harley says. “That’s concerning. Like, you still feel pain, right? You would know if you were hurt somewhere else, wouldn’t you?”

“Oh, trust me, I feel pain,” Peter snorts. “But some things just... don’t matter? Like... I dunno, but if it’s not serious, it’s like my brain filters it out on it’s own to focus on other things. Which, probably, y’know, not good, but, like, oh well.”

“Definitely not good,” Harley murmurs, frowning to himself as he squints around the room for a moment. “Well, if you have nothing else, then you’re good to go. And, honestly, thank god that’s all you have, ‘cause this is the first time I’ve done anything without Helen around and anything more than stitches would’ve had me flipping shit and fucking it all up.”

Peter lets out a light laugh, pulling his shirt down, over the gash that Harley just finished stitching. “You wouldn’t fuck it up,” he says, sounding light and humorous yet entirely serious, too. “You’re, like, really good at your job, Harley.”

Harley scrunches his nose up on his face. “Ew. Don’t be nice to me. It’s gross.”

Peter laughs again, a little bit louder, though the way it makes his stomach jump has him wincing when it pulls at his stitches. “I’m serious!” he insists. “Like, I know you’re still a med student and stuff, but Helen is probably the best person to be training you, so you’re, like, more qualified than most normal doctors. You have the experience that most people still in med school don’t have. I mean, you patch up the freakin’ Avengers, Harley! You gotta be good at this to do that!”

“I help patch up the Avengers,” Harley corrects. “The only person I’ve ever fixed up by myself is you, thanks to your insane ability to always get hurt.”

“It’s a talent,” Peter shrugs. “And hey, I bet it keeps you entertained.”

Harley snorts. “Entertained is not the right word for it, Spidey. Impressed, maybe, by just how much trouble you’re capable of getting yourself into.”

Peter grins. “Gotta impress people somehow, right?”

—

Harley wouldn’t call it bonding.

Because it’s not. It’s not bonding. It’s small talk, and pleasant conversations, while Harley sets a broken bone or treats another burn. It’s filling the silence because, apparently, Helen trusts Harley to handle Peter on his own, unless it’s a major injury that requires more than one person on hand, and Harley isn’t sure why he’s being trusted with this, but he’s pretty intent on not fucking it up.

But it isn’t bonding. They’re just... acquaintances. Who talk. Like, a lot, because Peter comes in at least four times a week needing treatment for something, and that gives them a lot of time to talk. Maybe Harley learns a lot about Peter during this time, like his favorite song, and what his comfort hoodie is, and why he became Spider-Man in the first place. Maybe Peter learns where Harley is from, how he met Tony, and what made him decide to be a doctor over a mechanic.

Maybe, after a few weeks, they start having inside jokes, built not only from the time they spend alone together, but also from the months upon months that Harley was helping Helen treat Peter, too. Sometimes, Peter snorts so hard that he reopens his stitches and Harley has to fix it. Sometimes, Harley can’t stop laughing when he needs to have steady hands and he ends up hunching over on himself and wheezing because of whatever it is that Peter said. One day, Peter comes in when he isn’t injured, dressed in casual clothes with a few textbooks from his ESU courses in one hand and a coffee cup in the other. “I’m headed up to see Mr. Stark,” he tells Harley, “but I thought I’d give you this,” and he holds out the cup of coffee with a big, cheesy sort of grin.

“Why?” Harley asks, though he accepts the cup gratefully.

Peter shrugs. “I’d probably have bled out ten times over if it weren’t for you, and you looked, like, really tired yesterday, so I thought you might need it.”

He is tired—exhausted, really, because his classes may not be hard but there are some big tests coming up that he needs to study for and it’s hard to find the time to study in between training with Helen and doing all the millions of other assignments that are being tossed his way. He takes a sip of the coffee, hums in satisfaction at the way it warms him up, and says, “Thanks.”

“Least I could do,” Peter tells him.

So, maybe they’re friends. Maybe—maybe—Harley is starting to look forward to seeing him and keeps trying to think of a casual way to offer they hang out sometime, outside of the med bay. Maybe Peter starts bringing Harley a cup of coffee every time he goes to visit Tony, and maybe Harley starts to feel a little thrill whenever he hands the coffee over and their fingers briefly brush.

Maybe it is bonding, but it’s not a crush. It’s not.

(”You’re adorable when you’re in denial,” Helen tells him.

Harley sinks in his seat and tries to disappear. “Shut up.”)

—

The letters of his textbook are blurring in front of his eyes when the alarm rings.

He jumps at the sound, looks up at the ceiling with slightly squinted eyes and furrowed brows, expecting Friday to calmly inform him that his assistance is needed in the med bay, like usual. Instead of that, though, the alarm continues to blare, and all Friday says is, “Urgent. Urgent. Urgent.”

Which is code for: someone’s about to die if he doesn’t hurry.

Instantly, he jumps to his feet, feeling wide awake despite being on the brink of dozing off just a few short moments ago. “Okay,” he tells himself, rushing out of his room and sprinting towards the elevator, which is already open and waiting for him. He only just barely thinks to swipe his tablet along the way, clutches it in his hands while he says, “Okay, okay, okay—who, uh—Friday? Who is it?”

“Iron Man and Spider-Man are both heavily injured and require immediate assistance,” Friday informs him gravely. “Doctor Cho is already treating Mr.Stark and has told me to inform you that you will be in charge of Mr. Parker.”

“Oh, god,” Harley breathes, pinching the bridge of his nose and giving himself a second to take a deep breath while the elevator takes him down to the proper floor. “Jesus. Okay. I need, uh—give me a list of Peter’s injuries, Fri.”

“Of course, Mr. Keener.”

The list is sent to his tablet immediately, and it’s—extensive. Third degree burns and multiple shattered ribs and various bullet wounds, only some of which are clean through, meaning that there’s various bullets that they need to remove before Peter starts to heal around them. The more he reads, the faster his heart thunders in his chest while his mind automatically sorts through it to think of what needs to be prioritized, what to treat first, and how to keep Peter alive.

By the time he reaches Peter’s room, he has a game plan figured out, and he only falters for a short moment when he sees Peter on the hospital bed, writhing around and sobbing in pain. The rest of the medical staff in the room freeze, likely already aware that Helen put him in charge, and wait with bated breath.

“Alright,” Harley says, mostly to himself. “Here’s what we’re going to do.”

—

Maybe it is a crush.

Harley is finding it hard to deny it now, as he sits beside Peter’s hospital bed, his hands feeling a little bit shaky where they’re clasped together and hanging between his knees. They had to undergo emergency surgery, and Peter’s heart had stopped four times throughout the procedure. Bringing him back had been the most panic inducing thing Harley has ever experienced in his life, and he couldn’t even show it because he was the one that was put in charge.

But they did, all four times —they got his heart going again and they got out all the bullets and treated all the burns and did everything they could to stabilized the broken bones. They gave him multiple IV’s, all of which he’s still attached to, and he hasn’t woken up since he passed out from the pain shortly after Harley’s arrival—and he passed out looking at Harley, too, with wide, pleading eyes that seemed to be begging for mercy, filled with agony and despair.

Harley would do anything to never have to see that look again.

“How’s he doing?” Helen asks, stepping into the room. She looks tired, undoubtedly exhausted from doing whatever she could to stabilize Tony just a few rooms down. Harley feels that exhaustion in his very bones.

“He’s gonna be fine,” Harley tells her. “Lost him a few times, though.”

Helen hums sympathetically. “But you got him back.”

Harley hesitates, then nods. “Yeah, we did.”

“Good,” Helen says, laying a gentle hand on his shoulder. “You did good.” She stays like that for a moment, doesn’t move, and Harley appreciates the gesture but kind of wants to be alone. Maybe she senses that, because a moment later, she’s pulling her hand back and asking, “Are you staying here?”

“‘Til he wakes up,” Harley tells her.

Helen smiles at him warmly. “Make sure you get some rest, too, okay?”

Harley doesn’t think he’ll be able to sleep until he sees Peter awake and talking again, but he still nods at her and says, “Yeah, alright.”

After Helen leaves the room, after it’s just Harley and Peter again, he finds himself reaching forward and taking Peter’s hand in his, and, other than the innocent brush of fingers when passing a coffee cup, this is the first time they’ve touched outside of Harley treating Peter’s wounds. It’s a bit of a startling realization, but Harley finds comfort in the contact, listens to the steady beeping of the heart monitor and starts to relax with the reassurance that he really did good, that Peter is going to be okay and Harley is the one that saved him.

He doesn’t mean to fall asleep, but with that relief flooding his veins and Peter’s hand in his, he finds himself dozing off and doesn’t bother forcing himself awake.

—

At first, he doesn’t realize he’s waking up, his senses still muddled with sleep. It feels almost as if he’s floating in unconsciousness, warm and comfortable and— 

“Harley?”

And he wakes with a jolt, eyes snapping open and instantly searching, only coming to a stop when they land on wide brown eyes looking right back at him. “Oh,” he breathes, blinking once and sitting up straight despite the way it makes his back complain. “Oh, my god. You’re awake.”

Peter tilts his head, just a little bit, and looks down at their intertwined fingers.

“Right. That.” Harley clears his throat and scrubs his free hand over his features, trying to wake himself up with a sheepish little smile. “It’s, um—not important, actually. How do you feel? Any pain, discomfort, anything like that?”

For a moment, Peter doesn’t respond, just keeps looking at their hands before rasping out a hoarse little, “’m kinda—kinda thirsty. M’throat hurts.”

Instantly, Harley gets to his feet and pulls open the mini fridge in the room to grab a bottle of water. He takes it back to Peter, hands it over, and feels somewhere stuck between doctor mode and something else, the worry and the uncertainty and the fear from hearing the flat line all mixing together until he feels nauseous with it. Peter accepts the water bottle gratefully, takes tentative sips from it and only winces slightly when he swallows it. “Better?” Harley asks.

Peter smiles, a bit small and tired, but just as genuine as always. “Yeah.”

“Good,” Harley murmurs, hovering by the chair he had been sitting in before. “Is there anything else? Just, like—anything at all? How do you feel?”

“Tired,” Peter tells him. “Like, um... groggy, y’know? And... out of it.”

Harley nods, a bit relieved that the dose of pain killers he chose was the right amount. “That’s to be expected. You were really roughed up, Pete.”

Peter frowns down at his water, brows knitting together. “What happened?”

“There was an ambush,” Harley tells him. “I guess Doc Ock was out and about, so you went to confront him and he got enough hits in to alert Tony, so he went to help you out, but Ock apparently teamed up with Rhino and they were able to catch you guys off guard and get the upper hand. Rhodey and a few others went to help out, but they didn’t get there in time to stop you guys from nearly getting killed, so, when you came in, it was... not pretty. But, you’re both gonna be fine.”

He wants to say that it’s not a crush. It can’t be a crush, isn’t supposed to be one, even if seeing the way Peter lets out a puff of air and relaxes back into his pillows is kind of a... not so bad sight. He looks tired and a bit beat up and a little too pale, but he’s good. He’s alive. Being alive looks good on him.

Maybe, Harley admits. Maybe it is a crush.

“Thank you,” Peter murmurs, head lulling back into the pillows. He holds out a hand and Harley isn’t sure what the action is for, but he doesn’t think before reaching forward and tangling their fingers together.

Harley clears his throat. “What for?”

“Not letting me die,” Peter says.

The mere idea of letting Peter die makes Harley’s heart stutter in his chest. “Of course,” he mumbles, a bit stricken. “I’ll always save you. It’s my job.”

Peter squeezes Harley’s hand, falls asleep with a sigh and a smile on his face.

Harley still doesn’t leave.

(It’s definitely, one hundred percent, a huge, gigantic crush, and maybe... maybe he’s okay with that. Maybe liking Peter Parker isn’t all that bad.)

[hypnoticwinter]

Down the Rabbit Hole part 9

The line creaks again menacingly, and Peter glares up at the broad webbed piton. “Goddam it,” he mutters.

“Did you say something?” Makado calls from below, and he glares down at her and kicks off, sliding down another seven or eight feet towards the gangway below. Makado, her ranger suit still half-unzipped, her hair still messy, grins at him, and he shakes his head but is unable to prevent himself from smiling back at her.

“This was a bad idea,” he grumbles again.

“You’re fine, you’re halfway there.”

“I don’t think it’s holding.”

“Don’t be such a baby, it’s fine. I made it and it didn’t even budge.”

“You also weigh like ninety pounds, so…”

“Excuse me,” she says, crossing her arms. “I’ll have you know I weigh a hundred and twenty.”

“Oh, okay, so I only have eighty pounds on you instead of a hundred and ten, I’m sure that makes a big difference to the piton.”

“I triple-checked it, you’re fine.”

Peter again glances downward into the Pit and sees nothing but a yawning darkness beneath him; he’s able to tear his eyes away after a moment but when he closes them he thinks he can see the inky, writhing darkness of the Pit’s gullet, not just the mundane blackness of his closed eyelids.

He opens them and pushes off again, sliding down another six feet or so. Again he feels the line shifting and he makes sure he has a good grip on the folding climbing axe Makado had handed him.

Peter is ostensibly qualified to do this sort of thing, but the last time he’s had to rappel down a sheer cliff wall would probably have been seven or eight years ago and he’s understandably rusty. The recent spat of anti-rappelling regulations, both for guests and rangers, made it difficult to even get any sort of practice in, after that guest slipped and died trying to rappel down into a venterial sink to retrieve a dropped cell phone. It had turned out he had been using a normal climbing piton and not one of the special (and expensive) expandable pitons necessary for climbing in the Pit, but even so Admin had been very clear that nobody ought to be rappelling if they could help it. Today, however, was obviously special circumstances.

“You’re not afraid of heights, are you?” Makado asks, and Peter groans.

“No, Makado, I’m not afraid of heights.”

“Are you sure?” Makado teases.

“I’m not afraid of heights, I’m afraid of falling.”

“Don’t fall, then.”

“Mak, you’re not helping.”

“I’m sorry,” she says, her voice instantly softer. “Look, you’re almost there. Two more jumps.”

Peter pushes off and again he feels the rope jostle. “Mak, I’m gonna fall,” he says quickly. His mind is entirely blank; he can feel nothing but a sudden animal fear that feels as though it will claw its way up his throat and burst out of him.

“Peter, it’s okay. You’re close. One more jump.”

He is clinging to the rope so tightly that he can feel it burning against his palms, even through his suit gloves. He can’t make his legs move.

“Peter, you’re fine. You’re totally fine. I’m right here, I’ll grab you. One more jump.”

He pushes off again and feels a sudden wrench as the piton nearly comes free, and his heart pushes upwards into his throat. His face is a rictus grin as every one of his muscles tightens, a desperate instinctive attempt to scrabble to higher ground that simply isn’t anywhere to be found. He hangs there, suspended like a drop of rain, like a thrown rock at the apex of its arc, for what feels like much, much longer than the split second that it takes before gravity grabs him and shoves him back down again. He feels his heart rise up into his throat and he stares upwards at the piton, at the straining flesh, torn already at the sides, that it’s clinging to, and then Makado grabs him around the waist.

“Jesus Christ, you’re fucking heavy,” she mutters, pulling him backwards. He can feel the railing press against his back. “Alright, you’re gonna have to work with me here.”

“Mak, it’s going to –“

“Move your legs up, I can’t lift you.”

Peter manages to hike one of his legs over the railing before the piton breaks loose entirely, bringing with it a spray of venterial blood that falls like a fountain down into the Pit’s throat before the pressure squeezes the cut sealed again. Peter wobbles unsteadily there, perched on the railing, and feels himself tipping before Makado flings herself backwards, arms still around him, and pulls him over the side onto the gangway. She lies there for a moment, breathing heavily, then wriggles out from beneath Peter. “You okay?” she asks, and he nods after a moment. Her eyes flicker over his taut face down to his hands, still clenching the rope. She reaches down and gently disengages his fingers from it and after a moment he lets it drop, and Makado sits up and starts winding it up back into the carrying spool, hitting the release on Peter’s belt to let it fall from him.

“You sure you aren’t scared of heights?” she asks, glancing over at him, eyes heavy-lidded.

“Maybe a little.”

“It’s okay,” she says. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

“I would have fallen all the way down there and fuckin’ splattered –“

“You didn’t though.”

“Yeah, but –“

“It’s okay,” she tells him again, and then she kisses him. He looks at her once their lips part and a small string of saliva extends between them and Makado laughs and breaks it with her finger. “Up until I was like 20 I was deathly afraid of the dark.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she nods. “I slept with a nightlight or with the TV on or anything to make sure there was light. I thought – well, I don’t know what I thought. It wasn’t rational.“

“Fear isn’t, usually.”

Peter leans over and puts his arm around her. She still smells like peaches. “Why do you smell like peaches?” he asks her, and Makado laughs until she has tears in her eyes.

“That’s what you ask me? Why I smell like peaches?”

“I love it, you smell wonderful.”

“It’s my shampoo. Smell my hair.”

He smells her hair, then holds her closer and breathes in even deeper while she laughs and struggles to get away. “You are such a fucking dork,” she laughs, and then Peter runs his fingers through her hair, traces his nails over her scalp, and she cranes her neck backward into his hand. “God,” she moans. “Stop it, we have to go to the Pleasure Domes.”

“We’ve got time.”

“We had time like ten minutes ago, now we have to go. We used up all of our time getting dressed.”

“And whose fault was that?”

“I don’t recall you complaining.”

“That’s beside the point.”

“Do you want to hear the end of the damn story about me being afraid of the dark?”

“Yeah,” Peter says, taking his hand out of her hair. She groans.

“Wait, no, go back.”

“Tell the story.”

“Fine. Jerk.”

“Tell the damn story, Mak,” he laughs. “Commander Kim is going to hit us up on the radio and tell us to stop fucking around.”

“You know what I had to hear to make me realize that there was nothing to be afraid of in the dark?”

“What’s that?”

“My guidance counselor at school said to me that there was nothing there in the dark that wasn’t there in the light, and that made me feel better. So I started sleeping without as many lights, and then finally with no light at all.”

“There’s nothing there in the dark that isn’t there in the light,” Peter repeats. “I like that. That’s catchy.”

“That’s what I thought.”

“How’s that supposed to help me get over a fear of falling?”

Makado thinks about it for a moment then pushes Peter lightly, and grins when he pretends to fall over. “Ouch,” he says. “Oh god, my ankle. Call Commander Kim, we can’t go on, we have to get out of here. Give us some paid leave.”

“Get up,” she tells him, kicking him in the back, little tiny beats with the fronts of her steel-toes. “Get up Freddie.”

“What?”

“Never mind. Come on.”

“Who’s Freddie?”

“Freddie Mercury. It’s a reference. Let’s go.”

Peter gets to his feet, grumbling and complaining, but in a good-natured way, and then Makado throws her arm around him and he puts his around her waist and they march off like that into the dark.

 * * *

 Incident Commander Kim had sounded audibly relieved when Makado had answered the radio call. He’d told them to go to a different channel and they’d waited there for a moment until he’d gotten on again and briefed them that someone had hit the general alarm on a call box in the Pleasure Domes, so it was probably guests, not a ranger; a ranger would have just used their own emergency beacon. Initial seismic readings had indicated that the Domes had weathered the contractions relatively unscathed; the bathhouse had withstood the crushing pressures easily enough and while a few of the smaller Domes had popped, they didn’t think there was anyone in them at the time.

While Kim had droned on Peter had continued trying to figure out where he’d heard Kim before; the name hadn’t sounded familiar but his voice grew more and more so the longer he’d talked. Plus he had a tiny, nearly indistinguishable sliver of an accent that added a hint of distinctiveness to his otherwise rigorous and clipped tones. He didn’t recognize the name so it had to be somebody from Admin, someone in management, who he naturally wouldn’t have had much to do with.

“We’re not receiving reports of anything larger than macrobacteria in the pools, so you shouldn’t have any trouble there,” he’d said to Makado. Their eyes met and she’d rolled hers at Peter, and he’d grinned. “Just get down there and see what the deal is with those people, and get them out if you can. We’re trying to have everybody out of the park by two tonight.”

“What happens at two?” Makado had asked.

“Don’t worry about it,” he told her. “You have your orders, ranger.”

“Head Ranger,” Makado had grumbled, but the transmission was over.

 * * *

“Hey,” he says to Makado, halfway down to the tunnel to the Pleasure Domes. “I figured out where I’d heard Kim’s voice before.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. He’s in HR. I had to go to a mandatory seminar last year and he was the guy leading it.”

Makado stops and looks at Peter. “He’s in HR?”

“Unless he got promoted to something different.”

“And he’s the Incident Commander?”

“Sure sounded that way on the radio.”

“Jesus.”

“No wonder everything was so fucked out there. Everybody else important must have been off for the Fourth.”

“I don’t know if you saw,” Makado said softly, “but on my way up the cliff when I was heading back, I caught a glimpse of another amalgam. They were wheeling it out on a stretcher but it was so big that bits were hanging out of the sheet they’d put over it.”

“You mean…”

She nods.

“Dead?” Peter asks, and she shrugs.

“Either dead or close to it.”

A long time ago, long enough that Makado was still taking care of her sister and hadn’t even heard of Mystery Flesh Pit, and Peter was still a green ranger doing grunt work at the LVC, a couple of guests, twin sisters Beverly and Vivian Green, had stumbled across an amorphous pile of flesh and organs nearly ten feet in diameter, laying there on the floor of the Organ Trail, glistening wetly in the harsh overhead lights. They’d stopped as soon as they’d seen it and Vivian had pulled the slim brochure they’d taken from the LVC and looked through it, trying to identify the carcass they saw ahead of them. Beverly had taken a couple of steps toward it and then the two sisters had had an argument, Vivian telling Beverly that she’d better not move towards it, what if it’s dangerous, and Beverly saying that the thing, whatever it was, was clearly hurt and that they had to help it, and Vivian retorting that they weren’t equipped to help it, they didn’t know a damn thing about biology or medicine and that they’d better head back to that call box and dial it and tell a ranger there was something really strange and hurt down there, and the argument then devolved into a brief discussion as to whether or not people really ever used those callboxes and whether they were properly maintained and whether or not you could get a fine if you used one when it wasn’t strictly necessary, and so on and so forth.

Luckily for the lawyers retained by Anodyne, they happened to do most of their arguing directly beneath a trail camera that captured not only the content of their argument, but also what happened next, when the amalgam creature sitting slopped heavily at the bottom of the trail raised its bloody, dripping, human head and began screaming and begging in a distorted, crazed voice, while raising itself on various limbs and shambling towards them.

Anatomical amalgamation is a strange process that can occur in certain areas of the Pit that are in close proximity to both digestive glands and ballast bulbs; a common fact most visitors are unaware of is that naturally occurring ballast bulbs are dotted throughout the Pit’s anatomy, instead of just being clustered around the location of the Pleasure Domes, so this particular combination of locations isn’t particularly rare. The healing properties of untreated and undiluted amniotic ballast can heal even rather severe injuries, but when combined with gastric acid can produce a strange sort of melting effect that can lead to different creatures with wildly different anatomies becoming combined in strange and unpredictable ways, without actually dying, or at least not dying immediately. Depending on how compatible the two (or more – there really is no upper limit beyond circumstance and basic physics) different biologies are, amalgams can end up living anywhere from a couple of hours to a couple of weeks, although generally most fall into the one to two-day range, and most deaths are generally believed to be due to starvation.

The particular amalgam that the Green sisters ran into was a combination of several pronghorn deer, one or two peccary (or javelina), a small female black bear, and a 38-year-old man who was later identified through dental records to be Gregory H. Wise, an avid hiker who, relatives claimed, ought to have been at his residence in Houston at the time. Later investigation turned up enough bills and mail accumulated at his house to indicate that he had been missing for over a week prior to his discovery at Mystery Flesh Pit.

During the court proceedings, the video from the trail camera was played, which showed Vivian fainting almost as soon as the amalgam became active, as well as Beverly attempting to move her sister but being unable to do so before the amalgam drew close to them and Beverly abandoned her sister and ran to the call box approximately half a mile up the trail. Of the remaining twenty-one minutes of trail camera footage, which showed the amalgam restraining and partially consuming Vivian while she attempted to escape before then withdrawing deeper into the Pit with Vivian’s half-eaten remains, only two minutes were played. Anodyne’s lawyers were able to show that the sisters had disregarded wildlife safety instructions they had been given during the mandatory five-minute video and, thanks to the waiver the sisters had signed before venturing alone into the Pit, were able to get the suit dismissed entirely.

The issue of the amalgam, however, was not so easily resolved. Given the nickname ‘Andre’ by the ranger team assigned to track it down and subdue it, mostly due to its large size and surprising durability, it proved notably evasive and cunning, several times organizing distractions or ambushes to attempt to draw the ranger team off its trail or to separate them so that it could pick them off. Unaccompanied travel on the Organ Trail was suspended entirely for nearly two weeks, an unheard-of event in park history, while the ranger team tracked the creature, and eventually they were able to surprise it and subdue it; however, during transport back to the Lower Visitor Center the amalgam was able to escape from its restraints and it had to be put down; the sordid affair was over and the entire Pit, it seemed, breathed a sigh of relief.

Since then, nobody had seen an amalgam with human components. ‘Andre’ was still whispered about by some of the old guard who’d actually been around while it was active, but over the years it had evolved into less of a historical footnote and more of a myth, a boogieman used to spook credulous guests and trainee rangers. Andre is still out there, went the story, he was never actually caught or killed, he escaped into the depths of the Pit and is still eating and growing. Sometimes at night you can hear his moans and screams, echoing from far away…

Of course, none of that is true. ‘Andre’s’ carcass was brought back to the LVC, then up to the surface in an opaque containment box, and is reportedly still kept there in one of the laboratories for study. Still, in an environment like the Pit, the various strange and inexplicable noises, smells, and reactions of the living environment can give such ghost stories more credence than they deserve.

All this and more flashed through Peter’s head when Makado suggested that she’d seen an amalgam with human features. He shakes his head at her. “This is fucked,” he says. “This whole thing. This park is going to fucking shut down after this shit.”

“Yeah,” she agrees. “Did you see those ejecta stains? Kim put everything way too close to the edge. I wouldn’t be surprised if people died cause of that, cause they got vomited on.”

“I saw Bruce with an acid burn,” he says, and Makado starts.

“Was he okay? Could you tell?”

“It was bad but he was alive, they were wheeling him into a hospital.”

“Okay,” she says, sounding like she’s trying to convince herself. “He’s probably okay then.”

“Christ. Let’s get to the Domes and get out of here before any more shit happens tonight.”

They make their way along the gangway in silence, and then pass into the fleshy walls of the Pit. The corridor widens, enough to fit three abreast or for one of the utility carts to ride down if need be, and Peter and Makado spread out, Makado in front, Peter several feet behind. She looks back and grins at him halfway down but they stay silent, letting the groans and creaks and flexes of the Pit fill their ears.

The convulsions are continuing below their feet but they can identify them now as the familiar quake of peristalsis, the gullet continuing to crush and grind and contract against the slipping LVC.

Once they’d forced open the door to the walkway that once lead down from Bronchial to the LVC they had stood there, staring down at the mangled metal, down through the crazily canted grating, down at the gigantic lozenge shape of the LVC, slipped sideways and far, far downwards in the gullet than it ought to be. The lights inside were dark and above they could see a thick reinforced bundle of wires and cables, thick as a tree trunk, dangling against the Pit’s throat and leaving a blackened, charred scorch mark where it brushed against the flesh. “Jesus,” Makado had breathed, and Peter had agreed with her; it felt like a violation, like an attack; the LVC’s stabilizing arms, mighty hydraulic plates and pistons and buffers, had laid limply, half crushed, like unconscious limbs. As they watched the flesh of the gullet had convulsed again and the LVC had slipped further down, only by a couple of feet, but it was still slipping, was still being consumed.

The walkway to the Domes judders beneath their feet and Peter reaches out for balance, grips onto the railing; Makado puts her arms out to steady herself but rides out the shudder. That wasn’t peristalsis, that was some other twitch or tic, some bundle of muscles perhaps miles long convulsing deep below them, the effects ricocheting upwards like falling dominos until it reached them. It stops or at least quiets after a minute or so, and they share a guarded look, both of them wondering the same thing – how much worse is this going to get? Is the Pit going to fall back asleep or wake up? What the hell would it even mean if it did wake up?

As they approach the bathhouse, a smaller rounded structure designed as a staging area for visitors entering the baths, with lockers, showers, and so on, they can hear the familiar wet slopping sound of the rhythmic waves of ballast lapping against a pool. They look at each other again and Peter grins.

“Wish I could take you to the Domes under better circumstances.”

Makado barks out a short laugh then remembers herself and covers her mouth. “You already had me once tonight,” she reminds him, “don’t get greedy.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“I need you on point, cut the blood flow down there,” she says, glancing meaningfully at his groin, and now Peter is the one stifling a laugh. He takes out his pistol and checks it, again not needing to, but the routine action makes him feel a little better. Makado observes, one sardonic eyebrow raised.

“Nothing other than macros down here, remember?” she says.

“Yeah, well, I trust Kim about as far as I can throw him, so…”

“Me too,” Makado agrees. She checks her own pistol and for a moment there’s nothing but metallic clicks. Makado looks up. “How many extra magazines do you have?”

“Three, you?”

“Two, I don’t have enough room on my damn belt because I’m so skinny. Can you give me one?”

“Then I’ll have two.”

“You’re bigger than I am, you only need two.”

“What am I supposed to do, just punch the copepods?”

Makado laughs again, quieter this time. “If there’s a copepod in there we’ve got bigger problems. Come on, give me a mag.”

“I’ll trade you a mag for a stunner battery.”

“You’re really going to trade, not just give it to me?”

“Unless there’s something else you’d like to trade,” he says, waggling his eyebrows at her, and she rolls her eyes, a grin spreading across her face. She stretches up and punches him in the shoulder.

“You’re ridiculous. Let’s go.”

“Hang on,” Peter says. “Call Kim and ask him for a position update.”

“Can’t we just go and stick our heads in and then walk back?”

“You’re the one who wanted to get involved in this in the first place, let’s not half-ass it now.”

“Yeah,” Makado agrees. “Kim seems to be doing enough half-assing for everyone.”

They call Kim, there on the edge of the bathhouse, the sound of ballast still lapping in the background. He picks up eventually, sounding harried; it takes ten minutes for him to get a status on the signal they’re supposed to be tracking, but he gets it to them eventually, and then they sign off and enter the bathhouse. It’s in disarray but not so much so that something might be in there, lurking and waiting for them; it seems, to Makado at least, like just the ordinary sort of panicked mess that would result if the convulsion alarms went off while people were still inside, some half-naked, some still showering, and so on. The lights are off but the emergency lighting seems brighter here, due to it being tighter quarters. They walk slowly through the bathhouse, clearing corners as they go, checking the showers – someone left one of the showers on and the water is seeping out into the tiled floor of the lobby – but they’re empty.

They regroup, finally, at the entrance to the stairs down to the lower baths, the Domes below level four that Makado was never able to get promoted to. She looks at Peter and he looks at her; the elevator is clearly out of commission, they can peer clear down the shaft and see the breaks in the line from where it was squeezed too tightly by the flesh surrounding it. They’re thinking the same thing – if someone is injured they won’t be able to carry them up the twelve or thirteen flights of stairs to get them to safety, not to mention the actual journey up and out of the Pit. Kim had told them that an emergency venterial crew was going to be widening a route into the Pit but had been unable to give them more than a general timeframe on when it would be ready for use. Peter and Makado had planned to make their way out through Bronchial again if they’d had to, but after the incident with the rope and piton, they’d probably have to take an even longer, more circuitous route to get there, one that probably would be difficult, if not impossible with who knows how many injured people in tow; they had medkits and hypos that could help but neither of them were trained to deal with real serious injuries.

Makado glances at Peter again and bites her lip; he looks resolved, his jaw set in a hard line, but she can see how tired he is just from the subtle slump to his shoulders, the cast to his eyes.

The way Kim had phrased it, he’d made it sound like it was just a quick check; then after Makado had said they were in the area and could make it down there quickly, he’d told her that seismo had confirmed at least four or five people stuck in a Dome; he couldn’t say why, or if they were hurt, but surely they were – if they weren’t, they would have been able to make their way up to the bathhouse at least…right?

“Hey,” Peter says, nudging her out of her reverie. “You good?”

“Yeah,” she says. “I’m sorry I –“

“Hey, it’s okay,” he says. “We can help. You made the right call.”

“But –“

“No buts. Let’s get this done.”

And with that, Peter grins at her, his teeth glinting a dull red in the e-lighting, and they vanish down the darkly litten stairs, deeper down the rabbit hole.

 * * *

 “Oh, Jesus,” Makado says, stopping at a landing, one hand clapping loudly to her forehead. Peter turns, peers at her uncertainly.

“What is it?” he asks, and Makado shakes her head.

“I have a killer headache all of a sudden.”

“Mak,” he says, pointing. “Your nose.”

Her eyes ice with confusion as she raises her hand to her nose. She draws it back and her mouth drops open slightly when she sees the blood on her palm. “Shit,” she says. “What the fuck is –“

“Fuck!” Peter groans, and Makado jumps.

“What is –“

“I’ve got a headache too now.”

They stare at each other for a moment. “What the fuck is going on?”

“I don’t know,” Peter says. He takes a knee, his eyes swimming. It feels as though his head is splitting in two, and his eyes are watering so badly that he can barely see the medkit he’s rooting through. He hears a loud crack and looks up to see Makado holding a test canister in her hand, snapped in half to activate. Her eyes are fixed on the little glass readout; he can see her lips moving as she counts quietly to thirty. He tosses her a gauze pack and she holds it to her nose, not taking her eyes off of the canister. She shakes her head finally.

“Nothing chemical, the air’s breathable.”

“Then what the fuck is –“

Something clicks inside of Peter’s head and he stops talking. Makado looks at him. His eyes are bleary and unfocused; he can see two of her and it’s only with difficulty that he can make the images resolve themselves. She’s looking at him, eyes wide with concern, the gauze pack already turning pink with the absorbed blood. “What is it?” she asks. “What’s wrong?”

Peter isn’t able to put his finger on it. “I don’t know,” he says. “Something’s wrong, something isn’t right.”

Makado laughs, loudly. Her lips are drawn back in a fake smile but her eyes are just as bright and alert and worried as they were a moment before. She freezes. “I didn’t do that,” she blurts. “I didn’t laugh, I didn’t –“

Peter realizes what feels wrong. He hasn’t had a conscious thought for two minutes now. He tries to think of something but finds that he can’t. His mind is utterly blank. He opens his mouth to tell Makado this but he can’t. She reaches out and clings on to him. Her legs aren’t working properly; one of her knees keeps bending and she isn’t moving it. Something else is, someone else in her head is pulling the levers.

Gradually over the next five minutes the feeling passes from them. Makado’s limbs stop twitching to themselves and the rictus grin that had drawn back her lips departs from her, and slowly, as though from a great distance, Peter can feel his headache fading and his thoughts returning. Makado raises her head from where she was cradling it in her hands; Peter can see the dried blood all down the front of her face cracking like desert soil as she licks her lips. She makes a face, experimentally, as though she isn’t sure her muscles will obey her.

“You good?”

She blows a breath out. “No,” she says. “I’m scared. What the fuck was that?”

“I don’t know.”

“Have you ever felt anything like that before while you were working here?”

“No, never.”

Peter rises to his feet finally. He holds a hand out, and Makado takes it. Her face is pale, or at least paler. “Let’s get this done,” he says again, trying to smile, but it’s forced and Makado can tell.

“What if that happens again?”

“More reason to get it done quickly.”

They make their way slowly, haltingly, down to the Salus bath. Middling potency, medium popularity. Its main benefit was that, aside from the main bath, Salus is the biggest. Plenty of ogling going on while the park was open and not in the process of tearing itself apart. At the same time, not potent enough to send anybody into any potentially dangerous paroxysms of lust, except for maybe the most excitable of psyches, but that’s the human element, isn’t it?

Makado can smell it before they get there, a thick stench of rot and decay, almost sweet. She looks at Peter and can tell from his face that he knows it’s going to be bad. Ballast doesn’t have much of a smell to it naturally; a faint, faint odor of vanilla, something of a filmy organic taste. Nothing like the thick smell wafting down the padded, gentle corridor at them like it’s a real thing, walking at them with balled fists, ready to do harm.

“Jesus,” Makado says again, and Peter, eyes watering, draws his pistol and holds it low by his hip. With one finger he works the slide backwards enough to see the gleam of the cartridge in the chamber and then, faintly reassured, holds his hand over his mouth and nods to Makado, and she reaches forward and pushes the door open and Peter enters the bath before he can reconsider.

The bath is large enough that the emergency lights leave a little to be desired, darkness crabbing itself into the corners as they push inwards, Makado’s hand resting on the butt of her pistol, her eyes wide, jumping like roulette wheels, checking angles.

Peter frowns. “Red eye,” he says.

“Whole rye,” Makado says automatically, drawing closer to him. He reaches out blindly for her, palm open.

“Give me your flashlight.”

She slips it to him without questioning. She can see what’s caught his attention; the Dome’s roof has ruptured and a steady stream of something is pouring from it, trickling downwards and splashing onto…something. A big, clustered, huddled something, hunkered there as though it were waiting for them, there on the far side of the pool. Peter clicks the flashlight on; the beam flashes upwards, illuminating the ceiling, and he shifts it to cover the bloody tear in the ceiling and they both can see the tell-tale off-yellow color of gastric acid pouring in. Makado feels her stomach clench reflexively.

“Shit,” she says.

Peter brings the flashlight down further, tracking the stream. “Stop,” she says. She can feel panic in the back of her throat. “Stop, Pete, let’s go, we need to fucking leave, this isn’t going to be good.”

He brings the beam down further and for a moment neither of them can comprehend what they’re gazing at. Its lines and form is so alien that their minds refuse to process it, but then the flashlight traces along a horribly human face, mouth contorted in a silent scream, eyes open, reflecting the light, but unseeing, the face half-covered by a drooping belly, red and wealed with acid burns and the telltale white scarification produced by ballast healing. The bodies melt into each other and into less human ones, ones that must have fallen through from the gastric bulb above when the roof tore open. Peter can see furred hindquarters melting into feathered bodies, slender and red and dripping, struck through with human fingers, the fingernails elongated like taffy.

Makado turns away and then bends double and throws up. “Oh fuck,” she says before another retch misshapes the words. Peter winces. He is still playing the flashlight’s beam over the sheer expanse of the thing, trying to comprehend it. He shines the light square in the face of a young woman, her head lolled over to the side, her neck protruding from the groin of what must have at one point been an elderly man, wrinkled and leathery and drooping, and when the light hits her eyes she blinks. Peter almost drops the flashlight.

“Mak,” Peter says, his eyes glued to the dripping-red figure rising from the corpse pile. It rises and rises and rises, thickening, a forest of limbs sliding from the pile, human and animal and invertebrate and insect, he sees wings and fur and eyes, he sees inside-outs, beating hearts fixed as though stapled to the blinking head of a deer, a big whitetail, half of its rack buried in the fleshy side of the creature.

“Goddam it,” Makado says thickly. She’s still turned away, she hasn’t seen it. Her hands are quivering.

“Mak,” Peter repeats. An arm the size of a trash can plops wetly on the floor and its thousand fingers twitch, and he sees a bear wrapped in it, in the ribcage of a wolf and the ropy intestines of a fish, cast across it like a net. It spreads out like an elephant’s foot but it holds and it hoists the amalgam upwards until it towers above them, even from across the Dome, and it opens a thousand eyes and looks at them a thousand ways, dull glassy fish eyes and serrated insect eyes and rotating avian eyes and pronghorned bovine eyes, slit eyes, cat eyes, and round wild knowing human eyes, blue and green and brown.

“What?” Makado asks, looking up finally, and then she sees it and she stills, the moment stills, the air stills, even the ballast stills, slopping softly against the lips of the pool, but quieter, respectful of the tension of the air, cautious of it. The world holds its breath.

Peter feels Makado raising her hand to her face next to him and he feels his mind going glassy again, like everything has just shifted out of focus. He looks at her and sees that her nosebleed is back, the thick trail of it already making its way down the dimpled curve of her lip, looking like nothing more than paint in the flickering red e-lights. Her eyes are bright and she can see the fear in them. Then as one they turn and sprint towards the exit to the hallway while the thing behind them half falls half shuffles towards them, and it does not roar or scream or shriek but its thousand mouths open and in a thousand voices it asks them calmly, in hoarse whispering tones, in conversational voice, in a commanding tongue, all at once, a whining undertone of animal moans and cries and calls, to stop, to come back, to help it, that they can’t leave it here like this.

Continue with Part 10

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