#i dare you to stay: chapter 17

[fr0stf4ll]

A court of Shadows and Moonlight - Part 17

paring; Azriel x reader

summary; In the wake of looming war and changing traditions, a gifted healer returns to the Night Court after centuries of wandering the continents. Tasked with stepping into Madja’s legendary role, she must guide reluctant healers, soothe wounded warriors, and face the entrenched prejudice of Illyrian leaders. But as she mends torn wings and broken spirits, an unexpected bond awakens between her and the Night Court’s enigmatic Spymaster. With rivalries simmering and a dangerous threat looming on the horizon, she must reconcile duty and desire, learning that true healing can extend beyond flesh and bone—if she dares to embrace the light hidden among the shadows.

word count ; 3.5k

Trigger warning; //

notes; ok to be honest i'm not super happy about this chapter because it's a bit short but for once i wanted to keep it simple and "cute" i guess. Still i hope that you will enjoy it <3 i hope that all of you are doing fine and i wish you all a good week ! see you soon <3

previous ✧

The morning light filtered softly through the curtains, casting a golden hue over the room. You were curled up against Azriel’s chest, the steady rhythm of his breathing lulling you into a peaceful daze. His arm was draped over your waist, his fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns along your back.

You sighed, your breath tickling the warm skin of his shoulder. “Az, we have to go.”

He let out a dramatic groan, burying his face into the crook of your neck. “No, we don’t,” he mumbled against your skin. His voice was thick with sleep, deep and slightly raspy, sending a pleasant shiver down your spine.

You smiled, running your fingers through his tousled hair. “We do.”

Azriel tightened his grip around you, as if sheer force alone could keep you here. “We could just… stay a little longer. Maybe forever?” His wings curled around you protectively, sealing the two of you in a cocoon of warmth.

You let out a soft laugh. “Tempting, Shadowsinger, but I’m pretty sure Velaris would fall apart without us.”

He hummed against your skin, not convinced in the slightest. “Rhys can handle it.”

You arched an eyebrow. “The same Rhys who told you that he barely gets any sleep now that Nyx is teething? The same Rhys who let Cassian handle one diplomatic report and nearly started a war with the Summer Court?”

Azriel huffed out a laugh. “Sounds like a them problem.”

You nudged him playfully. “Come on, you know we have to go.”

He exhaled deeply, fingers pressing a little firmer into your skin. The weight of reality was creeping back in, settling between you both like a ghost waiting to be acknowledged.

Something felt off—not just about leaving this place, but about you. Azriel had seen it in the way you held yourself these past days, even in the safety of the cabin. You’d let go, let yourself rest, but there was a moment, just before sleep took you, when something dark passed over your expression. Something you hadn’t shared with him.

And he didn’t know what it was. Didn’t know who or what had caused it.

That fact gnawed at him, twisted inside his chest like a wound he couldn’t reach. His instincts screamed at him to demand answers, to find the thing that had broken you and erase it from existence. But he wouldn't push—not yet. Not until you were ready to tell him.

You pulled back slightly, tilting your head to study him. “You’re thinking too much,” you mused, dragging a hand down his chest. “Not that it’s unusual for you.”

Azriel huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head. He lifted his hand, brushing his knuckles gently against your cheek before murmuring, “I love you.”

Your heart fluttered, warmth spreading through your chest. “I love you too.”

And even though the moment was fleeting, even though duty called you both back to Velaris, Azriel swore he would hold onto this for as long as he could.

Stepping out of the cabin, the crisp mountain air brushed against your skin, the warmth of Azriel’s body beside you acting as the only shield against it. The past week had been… everything. Intense. Raw. Unfiltered. Just the two of you, with no shadows, no responsibilities, no impending war creeping into the edges of your mind.  

And now, you were leaving it behind.  

Azriel stood beside you, his body impossibly tense, his grip firm around your hand. His wings twitched as if preparing for a fight, as if something was lurking in the trees, ready to rip you away from him. You could feel the battle warring inside of him—the need to hold onto this moment, to keep you to himself for just a little longer.  

You squeezed his hand, stepping closer so that your chest brushed against his. “Az,” you murmured, tilting your head to meet his gaze. “It’s okay.”  

His jaw clenched, golden eyes flickering between yours. You reached up, placing your free hand on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palm.  

“We had our time,” you whispered. “And we’ll have more of it. But for now, we go back to Velaris.”  

Azriel exhaled slowly, the tension in his shoulders easing just the slightest bit. But you knew him well enough to see that something else still lingered behind his eyes. A silent something he wasn’t ready to voice yet.  

Not until you were ready to tell him what had really happened before you left.  

Still, after a long moment, he nodded, and without another word, he winnowed you both back to Velaris.  

The moment your feet touched the cobbled streets, Feyre was already waiting at the riverhouse steps.  

She didn’t hesitate—just stepped forward and pulled you into a warm embrace. You closed your eyes for a second, grounding yourself in the familiarity of her scent, the comfort of her presence.  

“It’s good to see you,” she murmured, pulling back slightly to search your face. “How are you feeling?”  

Before you could answer, Cassian and Rhysand appeared behind her, grinning like absolute fools.  

Azriel stiffened immediately, his arm curling around your waist, pulling you flush against him. His wings flared slightly, bracing, like he could already sense the nonsense about to unfold.  

Rhys smirked. “You look well-rested, Y/N.”  

Cassian nodded, arms crossed. “Yeah, would’ve expected you to be a little more… exhausted after a full week away.”  

Your breath hitched slightly, heat creeping up your neck. “I—”  

Rhysand’s smirk widened. “You know, if Azriel ever isn’t enough for you, you can always come to us.”  

Before you could even react, Azriel moved.  

He grabbed both of them by the collars and smashed their heads together.  

Rhys cursed, stumbling back, rubbing his temple. “Motherfucker—!”

Cassian howled with laughter, even as he clutched his forehead. “So worth it!”  

Feyre sighed, shaking her head as she reached for your hand. “Come on,” she chuckled, pulling you inside as the three of them broke into a full-blown brawl right there in the street.  

You glanced back to see Cassian lunging at Azriel, who sidestepped effortlessly, sending the General stumbling right into Rhysand—who, of course, shoved him back with a sharp flick of his fingers.  

“You’re such a territorial bastard,” Rhys taunted, rubbing his temple.  

“And you’re an insufferable prick,” Azriel shot back, rolling his shoulders.  

Cassian snorted, shaking his head as he cracked his knuckles. “You two are a damn delight.”  

Then he lunged again, and the fight resumed.  

Feyre groaned, muttering, “Stupid Illyrians,” under her breath as she dragged you through the doorway.  

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head at the scene unfolding behind you.  

As Feyre led you inside, she turned to you with a teasing glint in her eyes. “So,” she started, arms crossed, her expression far too knowing, “how was it?”

You tried to keep your composure, but the warmth rushing to your face betrayed you immediately. “It was… great,” you admitted, blushing more than you wanted to.

Feyre’s grin widened. “Just great?”

You rolled your eyes, biting your lip to keep from laughing. “You are not getting details.”

She laughed at your reaction, shaking her head. “Fine, fine. I’ll let you keep your secrets—” Then, as if she’d just remembered something, she pulled out a small box, wrapped in a delicate blue ribbon.

You arched an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. “What’s this?”

Before she could answer, Rhysand strolled in behind you, his expression relaxed, making a half-hearted attempt to straighten his slightly messy hair and adjust his clothes.

Rhys pressed a kiss to Feyre’s temple before glancing at the box in your hands. “Open it,” he said with a smirk. “It’s our mating gift.”

Your breath hitched slightly. You blinked between them, touched by the gesture, before carefully undoing the ribbon and lifting the lid.

Inside, nestled against soft velvet lining, was a key.

You frowned slightly, picking it up and examining it. “A… key?”

Rhysand chuckled, sliding his hands into his pockets. “We thought that since you two are officially mated, it would be nice for you to have your own space.”

Feyre nodded, her eyes warm. “The townhouse has been practically vacant since we moved into the River House. So it’s yours.”

You barely had time to process their words before you felt Azriel’s presence behind you, his hands slipping around your waist, grounding you.

Your mouth opened slightly in shock. “Wait—what?”

You turned to Azriel, and he was smiling, the kind of rare, soft smile that made your heart ache in the best way. You looked back at Feyre and Rhys, emotions flooding through you all at once.

“You’re serious?” you whispered.

Feyre laughed as you threw your arms around her, hugging her tightly. “Thank you,” you murmured, voice thick with gratitude. “Both of you.”

Azriel barely let you go before pulling you right back against his chest, his hold possessive, warm.

Feyre rolled her eyes at him, chuckling. “We just gave her to you, Az.”

Rhys smirked. “He’s always been territorial, but now? It’s just ridiculous.”

Azriel only hummed, perfectly content to keep you pressed against him, his shadows curling lazily around your wrist. You laughed softly, resting your hand on his chest.

And then—

Cassian burst through the doorway, ruffling his hair, his grin wide and unapologetic. “Alright, lovebirds, what did I miss?”

Rhysand clapped him on the shoulder. “Oh, just gifting them their own house.”

Cassian’s eyes lit up. “Oh, finally! I was about to suggest giving them the cabin since I wasn’t sure that they would actually come back.”

Azriel shot him a look. You just sighed, shaking your head as they all laughed, warmth filling your chest.

As the conversation continued, laughter still lingering in the air, you turned your head slightly—something making the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end.

And there she was.

Elain.

Standing on the staircase, fists clenched tightly at her sides, her face void of any warmth, her gaze sharp—so sharp that for a brief moment, even Amren would have looked friendly in comparison.

A shiver ran through you, creeping down your spine like a ghost’s touch.

You swallowed, pulse quickening. And then, with every ounce of composure you had, you turned your head back as if nothing had happened.

As if you hadn’t just been looked at like that.

But Azriel had noticed.

"Are you okay?" His voice slipped into your mind through the bond, laced with quiet concern.

You tightened your fingers around his, barely aware that you had reached for him in the first place. Maybe it was to reassure you, maybe it was to reassure him—you weren’t sure.

"Yes, love. Don’t worry."

The next few days were a whirlwind of change, marked by quiet moments of transition and the subtle, grounding presence of Azriel by your side.

Moving your things from the small apartment above the clinic into the townhouse felt surreal, like stepping into a new chapter of your life you hadn’t even realized you were ready for. You had lived above the clinic for all of your time here, so long that it felt strange to pack away the small, everyday things that had made the space yours.

Elira had watched with her arms crossed, a knowing smirk on her face as you packed the last of your books into a crate.

“You look better,” she said, leaning against the doorway.

You glanced at her, arching a brow. “Do I?”

“Much better.” Her smirk widened. “I take it the mating bond is treating you well.”

Heat rose to your cheeks, and you rolled your eyes as you secured the crate with a strap. “Elira.”

She laughed. “What? It’s a big deal! Everyone here is thrilled for you. Even Madja muttered something about how finally you found someone to keep you in check.”

You huffed a quiet laugh, shaking your head. The other healers had passed by throughout the day, offering you quiet congratulations, some of them beaming at you, others teasing about how they always knew you and Azriel had something between you.

It was... strange. But in a good way.

For the first time in a long time, change didn’t feel like something to fear.

Azriel had been moving his things as well, transferring his belongings from the House of Wind into the Townhouse. Though he hadn’t outright said it, you could feel his reluctance through the bond, the way he lingered in his old space, taking in the familiarity of it one last time before finally closing the door behind him.

Now, as you stood in what was your new home, surrounded by stacks of books, clothes, and sentimental trinkets, you exhaled softly, feeling an unfamiliar but welcome sense of belonging settle into your chest.

Azriel walked up behind you, his hands slipping around your waist as he rested his chin on your shoulder. “You good?” he murmured, his voice low and soothing.

You leaned back into him, nodding. “Yeah. Just… taking it in.”

His grip on you tightened slightly, as if he understood exactly what you meant.

And with that, the two of you settled into your new space—together.

The warmth of the fire crackled softly in the background, casting flickering golden light across the cozy living room. You and Azriel sat curled up on the couch, his body relaxed beneath yours as your legs draped lazily over his, your head resting comfortably against his shoulder. One of his arms was looped around your waist, his fingers tracing absent-minded circles along your back in a slow, soothing motion.

Ydle, your tiny, feathered companion, fluttered nearby, his soft chirps filling the space between the two of you. Azriel’s shadows twisted and curled around the small bird, playfully weaving through the air as if teasing him, their smoky tendrils forming loops and gentle spirals. Ydle flitted between them, hopping from one dark wisp to the next, his wings ruffling in delight as he played the game they had created for him.

Azriel let out a soft chuckle, watching the scene unfold with quiet amusement. His shadows rarely took a liking to anyone besides himself, and yet, here they were, keeping the tiny creature entertained, as if he was part of them, part of you.

His golden eyes flicked toward you, warmth lingering in his gaze. “Where did you get him?” he asked, his voice a low murmur, curiosity woven into his tone.

You looked down at Ydle, his small form perched on the edge of the couch, tilting his head as if listening to your response. A fond smile tugged at your lips, warmth blooming in your chest as you reached out to run a gentle finger over his tiny head.

“Ydle?” you repeated, glancing back at Azriel before returning your gaze to the little bird. “He was a gift, actually. From a kingdom I worked for in the continent.”

Azriel raised an eyebrow slightly, intrigued, his fingers still tracing slow, idle patterns against your waist. “A gift?”

You nodded, your thoughts drifting back to that time, to the moment Ydle had become yours. “He was part of the king’s messenger nest,” you explained. “A small baby at the time, barely able to fly. The kingdom relied on messenger birds to carry their most important communications between cities and strongholds. Their bond with their birds was sacred—only the most trusted members of the court were given one.”

Azriel listened intently, his focus solely on you. “And they gave one to you?”

A soft laugh escaped you, shaking your head slightly. “Not at first. But after I helped them through an outbreak, they wanted to express their gratitude. I didn’t expect anything, but one day, Ydle just… followed me. No matter what I did, where I went—he wouldn’t leave my side.”

Azriel hummed thoughtfully, his thumb brushing idly along your arm. “He chose you.”

You glanced at Ydle. A smile pulled at your lips. “I suppose he did.”

Azriel’s expression softened, something unreadable flickering in his golden eyes. His fingers trailed up your back, a silent act of understanding. “He’s cute,” he admitted, his voice quieter now, filled with something gentler.

Your heart warmed at the rare tenderness in his tone. You shifted slightly, nuzzling closer into his embrace, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest against yours. “Yeah,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to his jaw. “He is.”

And for a while, you simply stayed there, tangled together in the dim glow of the fire, with Ydle’s quiet chirps and the soft rustling of Azriel’s shadows filling the space around you.

You leaned into him, pressing your face into the crook of his neck, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your cheek. The warmth of his skin, the scent of cedar and night-chilled air surrounding you, was grounding.

Azriel exhaled softly, his lips brushing against your hair before he spoke, his voice low, hesitant yet filled with something hopeful.

“Should we have a mating ceremony?”

Your breath hitched slightly at the unexpected question, your fingers stilling where they had been absentmindedly tracing patterns against his chest.

You pulled back just enough to look up at him. “You want to?”

His golden eyes searched yours, open, vulnerable in a way that few ever got to see. And then, without hesitation, he nodded. “Yes.”

A soft laugh escaped you, light and filled with something tender. “Of course I do.” You cupped his cheek, your thumb brushing over the sharp edge of his cheekbone. “But… I don’t want a big gathering. Just a few people, maybe.”

Azriel smirked slightly, his hand slipping to your waist. “We could pull a Rhys and Feyre and just do the ceremony on our own.”

You gasped dramatically, pressing a hand to your chest in mock scandal. “They really did that?”

His smirk deepened. “They did.”

A chuckle escaped you, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. “Maybe not exactly like them,” you admitted, “but there are still a few people I’d want there.”

You took his hand, guiding it against your chest, pressing his palm over the steady rhythm of your heartbeat. His fingers curled slightly, feeling the warmth of your skin beneath them, his own pulse thrumming beneath your touch.

Your voice softened as you whispered, “I’m scared, Az.”

His brows furrowed slightly, his grip on you tightening in silent reassurance. You shifted, moving to straddle his lap, his arms instinctively wrapping around you, holding you close.

You exhaled, resting your forehead against his shoulder. “This house, the ceremony, all of this… I love it, I love us,” you admitted, your fingers tracing small patterns against the back of his neck. “But I’m scared of time. The war. Of not having enough time with you.”

Azriel sighed, his fingers pressing gently into your back, his chin resting atop your head as he whispered against your hair. “I know,” he admitted. “I know, love.” He pulled back just slightly, pressing a soft kiss to your temple, his lips lingering there for a heartbeat longer than necessary. “That’s why we should enjoy every possible moment together. As much as we can.”

You lifted your gaze to meet his, your chest tightening at the raw devotion in his golden eyes. And then, as if saying it aloud would make it real, you whispered, “Let’s do a ceremony then. Let’s get married.”

Azriel’s breath caught for a moment, his hands tightening around you as if anchoring himself to the reality of your words. And then, a slow, breathtaking smile spread across his lips, filled with something unshakable, something that felt like a promise.

The moment your lips met his, you felt the words settle between you—real, permanent, yours.

The kiss started slow, deep, a steady press of lips that spoke of something more than just passion—something unbreakable. But then, as if neither of you could hold back any longer, it shifted, hardening with a desperate hunger. Azriel’s hands gripped your waist, pulling you impossibly closer, his fingers pressing into your skin as if he needed to memorize every inch of you.

You gasped against his mouth as he moved, pushing you back against the couch, his body hovering over yours. His weight, the heat of him pressing against you, sent a shiver down your spine. Your hands found his hair, threading through the dark strands as you pulled him closer, deepening the kiss.

Clothes were removed in a desperate haze of need, fabric tossed aside without care. Azriel’s lips trailed down your jaw, your throat, leaving open-mouthed kisses that set your skin ablaze.

A startled chirp broke through the thick air of desire, and you barely had time to register Ydle’s indignant protest before Azriel’s discarded shirt landed directly on him.

Azriel huffed a laugh against your skin, shaking his head as his shadows reacted instantly—slinking toward the small bird, lifting the fabric from him, and nudging open the window. Ydle fluttered his wings, ruffling them in what could only be exasperation before making his escape into the night, the cool air filtering into the room for only a moment before the window shut once more.

The only sound left in the house was the crackling fire, the soft rustling of sheets, and the whispered promises that passed between you and Azriel.

Together. Now. Always.

don't hesitate to comment if you want to be added to the tag list ;)))

tag list : @angel-graces-world-of-chaos @bravo-delta-eccho @messageforthesmallestman @celestialgilb @tiredsleepyhead @annamariereads16 @arcanefeelingz @fuckingsimp4azriel @adventure-awaits13 @diaouranask @rcarbo1 @6v6babycheese @goodvibesonlyxd @sa54va87to90re12 @firefly-forest @babypeapoddd @hailqueenconquer @daughterofthemoons-stuff @lilah-asteria @quiet-because-it-is-a-secret @judig92 @pinklemonade34 @sourapplex @wickedshadowsinger @shinyghosteclipse @rose-girls-world @leptitlu @acourtofsmutandstarlight @feyrescanvas @dreamloud4610 @plants-w0rld @tele86 @dragonsandrinks @making-it-big @itsbonniebabe @motheroffae @azrielswhore @casiiopea2 @whyucloudingmymind @onebadassunicorn @prettylittlewrites @moondustxy @panickedmushroom @ly--canthrope @xlosttdreamss @phoenix666stuff @runningoncoffeeandchaos @zanaorian @prettty-thing @wxveysun @aslut4percyjackson @ailoda @byteme05 @elisabethch82 @eatsleepreadance1 @rainy-day-lady @breademoji @zuhashah-09 @quiettuba @magicaldragonlady @ajxsquish @hibye02 @am-riel

[crowsofdarkness]

Arranged-Chapter Four

*gif not mine. credit to owner*

Pairings: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: language, 18+ smut(ch 12 & ch 17), angst, fluff, mentions of death and violence. I will update the warnings with each chapter.

Summary: Reader would do anything to make her parents happy and that included agreeing to an arranged marriage. She never expected it to be to one of New York's most feared Mob Boss: Bucky Barnes. He is anything but loving towards Reader however when her parents are mysteriously killed, Bucky makes it his mission to find out who were at fault. And in the process, ends up coming close to losing Reader.

Authors Note: This was a story of mine on an old blog and I wanted to publish it on here. Since it's quite a long fic, I've decided to slowly updated it chapter by chapter. If anyone who is interested wants to be tagged, let me know!

My head rested against the headrest while my knee bounced with uncertainty of where we were going; all I knew was that we were headed to some lab but didn’t know what for. Steve was to my left and gave me a small smile to calm my nerves. 

It didn’t.

Bucky was on my right, eyes glued to his phone while typed furiously. I didn’t dare to look to see who or what he was texting. It wasn’t any of my business and to be honest, I was slightly afraid to find out what it would be. 

With the two large men on either side of me, I felt cramped and did my best to maneuver my small body hoping it would calm me. 

Again, it didn’t. 

I began chewing on my nails, something else I did when I was filled with nerves, and it was then that Bucky looked away from his phone and saw my worried state. 

“Are you alright?” 

I nodded. “Yep.” 

“You’re shaking the whole car,” he sighed while placing his metal hand on my knee. 

It calmed me for a moment. 

“Nervous habit, I guess.” 

Bucky hummed. “And the nail biting?” 

I placed my hands in my lap and let out a low breath. 

“Y/N, there’s nothing to be nervous about. I just have to meet with one of my workers then we can head back to the house,” Bucky explained. 

With a small nod, I felt the car come to a stop in front of a large building with a sign in front of it. 

Barnes Laboratory. 

“You own a lab?” I questioned looking at Bucky. 

He nodded. “Maybe one day I can give you a tour. But right now, I need you to stay in the car.” 

I didn't bother to argue, something about this whole meeting still was not sitting well with me because of the way Bucky’s demeanor changed this afternoon and last night.  

“Steve, stay with her,” Bucky demanded. 

We were left in the now quiet car and my eyes watched with slight worry as Bucky, along with two of his other guards, disappeared into the building. My mind raced with a million thoughts, wondering what he was doing there and who he was meeting with. 

“He’s alright,” Steve’s soft voice filled the car. 

“I’m assuming that you’re not going to tell me what’s going on in there,” I sighed while looking at him. 

Steve shook his head. “You know I can't do that.” 

“This marriage isn’t going to work if he keeps things from me.” 

“It’s better if you don’t know some things, trust me,” Steve insisted. 

Before I could retort back, Steve pulled out his phone and with a long sigh, he gave me a stern look. 

“I’m needed inside. Can I trust that you’ll stay in the car?” He wondered. 

Now my mind really began to wonder what the hell was going on inside because Bucky was adamant that Steve stay with me but now, he needed him inside?

“Yeah,” I nodded. 

“Good.” 

I kept a hard glance on Steve’s back until he disappeared through the same door Bucky had gone into a while ago. 

“This is ridiculous,” I muttered while crossing my arms over my chest. 

I couldn’t dwell on the sudden loud silence because my phone rang, my moms picture appeared on the screen. It had been a few days since I last spoke with either of my parents and I knew they were wondering how things were going between Bucky and I. 

“Hi mom,” I signed into the phone. 

“Hey sweetheart, we’re……things……Buck….treating..right?” 

Her voice was coming in broken and when I pulled my phone away, I realized that inside of Bucky’s car, I had absolutely no service. 

“Hang on. I can’t hear you.” 

I shuffled from seat to seat, hoping to get better service, but it only made it worse. My gaze fell to the outside and I began gnawing on my lip, Bucky’s words replaying in my mind. 

Stay in the car. 

“Honey….there?....Can’t hear..”

It’ll be a two minute conversation. I’ll be back in the car before Bucky even knew I didn’t listen. 

“Hey mom, can you hear me better?” I asked, the wind blowing the hair from my face once I stepped on the gravel ground. 

I made sure to stay close to the car, just in case. 

“Oh that's better! So, how are things?” 

I nodded even though she couldn’t see. “They’re good, I guess.” 

“You guess?” 

“It’s only been a day and a half, mom. I need more time to actually get to know someone,” I defended. 

My mother sighed. “You don’t have more time, Y/N. The wedding is in three days. Not to mention, you haven’t sent over any details!” 

My pulse began to quicken as I thought of the best way to break the news to my mom. 

“Bucky and I decided to do a courthouse wedding; sign the papers, have a nice dinner to celebrate. You know, simple.” 

“What?!” 

I grimaced while pulling the phone away, my mother shrill ringing in my ear. 

“I can’t believe you would do this to us, Y/N! After everything we did to set this up for you!” 

“Are you fucking-,” I began. 

“Watch your mouth!” 

I gnawed on the inside of my cheek and composed myself. “I didn’t get a say in who I’m marrying. The least you and dad can do is allow me to decide if I even want a wedding or not.” 

My mother kept rambling on about wedding nonsense but my attention had fallen elsewhere, lips parted in confusion. Bucky was now outside of the building, Steve close behind him, but what they were currently doing was what held my attention. 

Bucky had his vibranium fingers gripped tight on someone's shirt collar and pinned up against the brick of the building. There was a slight look of fear on this man's face as he nodded profusely to Bucky’s demands; ones that I heard each and every word of. 

“You’ve got one week, Banner. I need those vials in my possession by next Saturday at 10 a.m. If I catch wind of another test experiment, they won’t just be finding your experiment's body in the water. Understood?” 

“Y/N, are you even listening to me?”

My mothers voice brought me back slightly. “Uh, I have to go. I’ll call you later.” 

I pocketted my phone, not even giving her the chance to yell at me more. 

Steve did a quick once over of their surroundings and when it fell onto me, his face hardened and placed a hand on Bucky’s shoulder. 

Not only did I feel a wave of disappointment wash over me when Bucky’s eyes locked with mine, the look of anger that he held filled me with fear. I had yet again disobeyed an order from him, the first two times he was understanding. Who’s to say this time he will be? 

“Deal with him.” 

Bucky roughly handed off the worker to Steve, who disappeared back into the building. 

“I told you to stay in the car,” Bucky spat while closing the distance between us in just a couple strides. 

“Did you just threaten that guy?” I ignored his previous statement. 

Bucky’s eyes hardened, a deep scowl pulling at his lips. “Get in the car.”

His flesh fingers gripped my arm and began dragging me into the car. 

“Get your hands off of me,” I snapped. 

I did my best to break free from his grasp but Bucky was stronger than me and not the typical stronger a man his size would be. His strength almost felt double than normal as he lifted me into the car with ease

The door slammed behind him and I was suddenly pressed up against the other door, Bucky leaning over me slightly. His broad chest rose and fell with every deep breath and I could feel the warmth of it painting my lips. The fear that I felt dissipated, a new feeling crashing over me. 

Lust. 

The heat of his intense gaze, blue eyes boring into me, brought chills all over my skin. 

“Did you threaten that guy?” I repeated my question. 

Bucky’s jaw clenched. “That’s none of your business.” 

I raised a brow. “Isn’t it? You brought me here.” 

“I didn’t have a choice.” 

“I know the feeling,” I grumbled. 

Bucky shook his head with a scoff. “How many times are you going to bring up that you’re not happy with the situation?” 

I didn’t like the hint of annoyance in his voice so I sat up straighter, a little tough in the cramped back seat; Bucky’s size was taking up the majority of it. 

“Until I finally have a say in this relationship.” 

“You do. You’re the one that decided on not having a wedding,” Bucky retorted. 

I snickered. “Who would have thought that big old mob boss Bucky Barnes would want a big wedding?” 

Something flashed over his eyes and his breathing echoed throughout the small space of the car. 

“You’re such a smartass, you know that?” He sneered. 

I lifted my chin towards him, our lips meters apart now. “Get used to it, Barnes. Cause you have to deal with it for the rest of your life.” 

As hard as my heart was pounding from not only the slight fear of what I witnessed and heard prior but to how Bucky would react. 

His tongue rolled over his bottom lip, so slow, and his eyes danced all over my face. My hands lay on my stomach, itching to trace over his soft features, but I clasped them together hoping it would subside. 

There was this tension between us, something unknown, that began pulling us towards each other. I marveled at the way his bottom lip was so pink and plump, almost begging me to kiss them, taste them, devour them. 

Bucky, almost as if he could read my mind, lowered my body deeper into the seat and I felt his lips ghost over the crook of my beck, warm breath heating my core. 

“Boss, we need to go. Now.” 

Bucky didn’t bother to move, merely looked over his shoulder. Steve was peeking his head in the open door, a look of urgency in his eyes. 

“What’s going on,” Bucky asked while adjusting himself by fixing his suit jacket and sitting in his previous spot. 

“Stark. He’s at the house demanding to see you.” 

I noticed the way Bucky’s face fell for a moment before his strong demeanor returned. 

“Everything okay?” 

He ignored me, only keeping his attention towards Steve. “Tell the men to load up.”

Everything happened in a quick haze, Steve and the other two men jumped in the car and peeled out of the parking lot, my hand grasping for the headrest in front of me to steady myself. I didn’t know who this Stark guy was but I could tell by the way that Bucky’s breath was erratic and his hands shook with anger that this was going to be a closed door meeting. 

[goldsbitch]

Hypochondria

part 4 to p1, p2, p3

He can sense her emotions, she feels his pain. Baby steps, that's the only way to go.

author's note: guess who's back - and a promised smut chapter turned into slow burn. any reported typos are appreciated. there will be p5.

"I'm sorry, Lando - this all just so bizarre. I'm barely taking it in. Literally don't understand how you're so calm."

He laughed gently. "Well, I did have few extra days to process. And hearing my name roll of your tongue is distracting enough," he said flirtatiously.

Her cheeks went red and her mind stopped, head getting filled with desire and lust. Lando's lips turned into a wide smile, him feeling her arousal as if she was screaming it loudly to his face.

"Glad to see my words have an effect on you. This is indeed going to be fun..."

Lando was on cloud nine. He was just staring at her as if she was a miracle. Her deep eyes unable to stay away from looking at him and lips that had a silent invitation written on them.

He was high on the way how relaxed she felt, proud that he made her feel like that. It was as if there was no yesterday or tomorrow. Just them and the couch. And after few moments of silence and collecting his bravery, Lando leaned in and kissed her.

It was clear to him from the moment he took her upper lip in that he'd give anything for this moment to take at least a thousand years. She did not hesitate and kissed him back immediately. The sweetest touch a woman can give. Leaned in and let nature do its miracles. He smiled into her lips and pushed himself closer to her, making her sink in the couch.

It was right then when a loud, impatient knock nearly sent them both into shock. Lando froze and back away from Y/N little bit, furious with whomever that dared to disturb a key moment in their lives.

"Lando, I apologize, but we have an urgent matter on our hands."

He rolled his eyes and let a deep breath out, recognizing the voice of his workoholic PR manager. This was not the first and probably the last time he had to tell his team off in the dark of the night. Internet never sleeps.

"Can it really not wait this time until tomorrow?" he said before he gave Y/N shameful and apologetic look. She just kept herself quiet, sunken into the comfy couch.

"I'm afraid we will need some immediate action," came from behind the door after another impatient knock.

Lando got his phone out to check the time, only to see 17 missed calls from several people.

"Ok, I'm coming."

He half opened the door to a very flustered PR manager, who looked like he was about to announce a coming tornado. Lando just raised his eyebrows, encouraging him to spill the beans and then planning on dismissing him.

"Anita released a break up TikTok. It's going viral."

As far as emergencies go, this one felt to Lando like a second-tier one. He was more concerned about the anxiety he felt coming from Y/N. Kind of wished she was kept out of it, for her own good.

"I'm sure we can address this in few hours," Lando replied calmly.

"She accused you of cheating. In a very colorful manner, I must say," the guy continued, as if he was not confident enough to fully explain the situation. "I'm in touch with her publicist, so that we can come up with a joint statement online. Apparently she won't talk to anyone but you."

Lando stayed silent, the only thing he really wanted was to close the door and return to the couch.

"We can't have another cheating scandal. McLaren will get involved," he pleaded once again in hopes of finally convincing Lando.

Deep breath. "Sure. Can I meet you at the lobby or somewhere in few minutes?" Lando caved in. A puzzled look flashed over his PR's manager, because usually Lando preferred to solve his crises in the comfort of his suite. The driver hoped no comment would come his way. After few seconds, the guy finally nodded.

"Understand, sure. I'll see if we can get the conference room."

He closed the door and tried to brace himself for any type of reaction Y/N might have. But deep inside he knew - seen it countless times. She abruptly got up, fixed her clothes, flashed him only one quick look before avoiding his face completely.

"Um, I'm gonna-"

"Yeah," he said, letting her pass by. The reality hit hard. She barely knew him. Somehow, the air got flooded with inescapable loneliness.

//

Y/N tried her best to follow her daily routine the following week. The memory of her running away from Lando's room like a little child chasing her like a nightmare. It was just so humiliating. The guilt, unjustified, was eating her up. She tried to stay away from social media, but her will was not strong enough. Late night scrolling included absorbing lot of Lando hate.

He also did his best to keep himself busy and focus on his job. If it had been any other person, he'd already be chasing Y/N down and try to reason with her, get this experience behind them and keep starting fresh. Perhaps he was lucky, that he knew her and if he's pushed immediately, she'd just hide even more.

He found himself on the track during free practice, constantly stealing glances over to the medical tents, just to get a glimpse of his guilt-ridden soulmate. All he wanted to do was shake some sense to her. That evening he finally snapped. No more hiding. He was about to get creative.

So there he was, alone once again, in a random hotel room, in a city he barely remembered the name of, trying to get a hand of morse code. Something he never thought would be his issue, ever. It was a shot in the dark. Pinch a message into his arm and hoping she'd understand his intention. After all, she felt his pain, so he figured if he was annoying enough, she'd have no choice but to show up. Many curse words were uttered about the absurdity and difficulty of it all, before Lando got a hand of it. He opted to focus on the rhytmn and after he felt confident enough, abandoned tapping into a table and began pinching his left hand.

Let's talk. Room 1014. Please.

Over and over again. It was so incredibly annoying. But, he was going to persevere even if it meant having a bruise tomorrow.

After what felt like like seven thousand years - a knock on the door.

This was it, he thought as he opened the door to equally annoyed person. She shot arrows from her eyes and he could not help but smirk. She cracked the code, but he won.

"Now, let's get one thing clear," she opened with, hands firmly on her hips, "you are not going to use this trick outside of an emergency. Ok?". Her face did this strange twitch, she obviously had a hard time admitting he won that round. He leaned over the door frame, not caving in to her anger. Stood like a patient anchor, waiting for the sea to calm down. She shifted her weight from one leg to another, failing at keeping her look so stern. It's been few days since they last locked eyes. She could practically sink in his. He just gave her a small nod, definitely not planning on misusing this ever again. Absolutely not.

"I'm glad you understood," he said and let her walk in. Was he nervous? That was probably the closest thing to describe it.

"I don't know the Morse code, so that made it super fun," she proclaimed and stopped in the middle of the living room, not sitting down on any of the chairs or couches.

"Me neither. But you better learn it, you never know..." he teased and walked dangerously close to her. She kept her gaze down.

She spoke before he could say any more cheeky lines. "So, I'm here. Anything specific you wanted to say that exceeded your ability of speaking in Morse code?" Her attitude hurt. However, he was not going to let her push him away so easily. "Y/N, this is not going to work on me. You can't push me away so easily, so just try and stop it. Please." Big gulp on her part followed by a light nod. "Good. Listen, I don't want to let this fizzle out so easily. It's hard to think about anything else once I've met you. I'm sorry about the whole break up mess. It's not fair to you. But, in my defense, I had no idea I'd just randomly be sat next to...you," he said, practically breathing out the last word.

She began walking frantically. "It's...um, it's a lot. Your world. And then the fact you seem to know things and are so far ahead in this game."

"It's not a game to me, Y/N," he said, watching her pace around the room.

She stopped by the bed and sat on it, finally able to look at him again. "Ok, bad word, but still," she paused and searched for the right words. "We have nothing to connect with...I mean nothing real."

Lando was not going to buy into doubts. His mind was set. Slowly, he walked towards her and sat next to her.

"Does it scare you? That you are tied to me basically against your will?" he asked the one thing he was afraid to hear the answer to. But he figured that the beginning was never suppose to be easy anyway.

"A little bit. Actually yes, it does," she said, in a strangely releaved tone and his heart sank just few stories lower. Lost in his own head, he nearly missed her giving up on sitting and landing on her back with a thud, eyes locked with the ceiling.

"I never liked being pushed into things. It's my life, I get to call the shots," she began to let her thoughts run freely.

"Choosing something that comes to you willingly does not have mean giving up your free will...I'd just like to at least give this a chance. I know already that I can't be your friend," he whispered, turned his look towards her and slowly lowered himself on his back as well, lost in his thoughts once again.

Lando's body laid still, but his heart was beating as if he was in the final quali lap. He had the advantage, drew the better card. Unique insight into another human's soul. Short cuts and few cheat answers for any test ahead of them. So why did it make him feel all the more lonely? He was reaching out, confused in the exact same capacity as she was, but she was not giving him much back. Yet. If was obvious. He was miles ahead of her, not thanks to his own doing. He could be there for her, but it would take some time and a lot of luck for her to be able to be there for her.

"Can you stay here? For the night?" he asked in a soft low voice, unable to hide his own vulnerability. "Not like, you know," he added immediately, hoping he comes off the least creepy as possible, "Just like this." Baby steps. He was praying for just that.

The body next to him also laid still in a very stiff manner, the exact opposite of relaxed. But the pull towards him was just too loud to resist. It was stronger than her. Curiosity tripped over the tiny fear inside her, grabbed the innate desire for human connection by the hand, and together opened the door for Lando to enter.

"Yes," she whispered, wondering if there is anything she wanted to add.

A small smile crept onto Lando's face. He got up and shot the light off. Both of them settled in a more relaxed pose, albeit still fully dressed. If by some miracle he manages to fall asleep, he will be waking up next to this magnificent, magical being for the first time. And hopefully not the last.

They laid next to each other, like the strangers they were, for few minutes, before she found her own little hand reaching out for his. Soft fingers mixed with his. At that moment, you could hear a pin drop. Lando's heart almost stopped, his breath caught in and resulted in gulp, too loud for the current setting. She could not help but smile and tried to hide it with pressing her lips together - even though it was dark night and both of them had their eyes closed. He mimicked her movements and traced her fingers as well. Every little place he touched burned with intoxicating intensity. He held her index finger lightly while she brushed up and down his thumb.

For the first time in years, Lando was careful. He'd rather lie next to her in silence than risking her wanting him to leave. The guilt from bruising her with his crash still hadn't left his mind. But when her hand crept more and more inside of his, he could not help but circle around it, until he was covering her hand completely. The air was still. Two scared souls discovering each other, tiptoeing around as if they were made of glass. Once Lando started drawing little circles on the palm of her hand, he finally felt her beginning to relax. He was still trying to get his mind wrapped around how the whole connection worked. Perhaps the more open she was to communicating with him, the more of a window he got. His next words slipped through without much of a thought.

"I've dreamt about you probably thousand nights."

Y/N could not recall the last time she heard a sentence that sounded so honest. Raw, it was almost childlike. She thought about her own countless nights when she slept alone and longed for a soul to crawl to. And also all those times she wasn't alone in the middle of the night, yet it still felt like eating someone else's dinner. The emptiness never truly filled. Hand never fitting someone else's like a well-fitted glove. Was there ever anyone who told her something like this before? Probably not. Of course not.

"I'm scared," she repeated.

"I know," he smirked for himself only. "I can feel it...But can you please tell me what's scaring you at this moment? I'd love to understand."

This time it was her who chuckled and squeezed his hand a bit. His heart once again beating so loudly he was scared she could hear it.

"I randomly meet this man, this devilisly handsome guy, who seems to know things I've never even told anyone, is hyperaware of my emotions, as if they were his own...How am I suppose to resist this?"

"Why would you?"

"If we proceed with this, I am basically allowing you to become a weapon designed to destroy me. If, or more likely when, I fall for you...How can anyone else ever top that? If you decide that you're bored with me, I'll quite literally only be left with bruises."

He listened to every word, as if it was a gospel, and this time took a second to calculate his response. Lando opened his eyes to try and see a glimpse of her face in the dead of night, only to find her already looking at him.

"As far as I remember, you were always a part of my life. The one constant that does not leave," he said and licked his dry lips. If she was becoming vulnerable, he'd have to do the same. "If I fuck this up, if you decide that I am not worth spending time with and if you walk away...I'll still be left with the glimpses. I'll have to watch from afar, knowing you don't feel this. Funnily enough, I'd argue that you have the option to choose. I don't."

"And do you even want it? Would you-" she tried to continue with her question, but he interrupted her immediately.

"Of course. Hundred times over. I know you're scared, but I am scared too. Because there is a perfect piece of puzzle right in front of me and if I fuck it up, I am ruined for life."

She only saw a small reflection of light in his eyes, but that was enough to understand he was serious. Her shoulders relaxed and she let a breath she didn't know she had been holding, out.

"Well, good to know you are a dramatic person," she responded, trying to lighten up the mood.

It worked, his small smirk entered the chat again. "Yeah well, get use to it," he said with a new found confidence, tried his luck once more and scooted over to her just a little bit.

"Sorry, there was a hard spot in the matrace," he said cheekily and closed his eyes, trying to play it cute.

His body heat radiated towards her. "Of course, a hard spot in this top-of-the-world matrace," she questioned his argument with a smile, his magic getting her head-over-heels.

"Yes, I'll complain with to the staff tomorrow, these things can really fuck up your sleep, you know."

"So true. And what, have you solved it now?" Another door opened. Lando smiled.

"Still not perfect," he remarked, pretended to have a moment to think and finally moved all the way next to her and put his arm around her. "Yeah, this is the only way I'm afraid."

She was glad his eyes were closed, because her smile was impossible to hide. Both of them were fully aware there is no hard spot on the matrace. "Of course it is," she commented, as she settled down in his embrace.

Her face was now settled in crook of his neck, her uneven breaths leaving goosebumps on his skin. His light stubble teasing her forehead. Once again, Lando was overwhelmed just how well she fit in his embrace. He had to actively try and breathe regularly, because he was anxious about giving away just how much he was enjoying having her in his embrace. Her hand was pressed against his chest and Y/N had to fight every cell in her body, because the urge to explore his body was overcoming her. Lando shifted a bit, having to to try and find a spot where his belt wasn't pressing on his body in a way that hurt. Immediately, he felt a sudden wave of guilt coming from her and she bolted straight up. Had he fucked it all up? He cursed himself, he should have just pushed through it.

He forgot to take in the fact she felt his pain. "What's wrong?" he asked shyly, as he also sat up to match her moves.

She took a deep breath. "I don't want to seem like I'm suggesting something, but can we get out of our daily clothes? I hate sleeping like that." Who would like that anyway, was the thought that crept into Lando's mind, but he kept it for himself, more than overjoyed that he didn't have to suggest that. "Sure, no problem."

"Do you have some t-shirt I could borrow?" she asked, turning on the light next to his bed, sitting with her back turned to him, perhaps trying to hide away. Lando tried his best not to get shaken up and loose his cool. This wasn't her running away and it was also not her suggesting anything.

"Of course," he said and got up to search up the best clean t-shirt her had. She took a deep breath as she tried not to stare, guessing by the sounds that he was getting undressed. But, as she did, she was happy he did not see her blush. Just like he did before, she forgot to take in account that he felt her sudden arousal and curiosity without having to look at her. For a change, he was happy he had his advantage. He peeked over to her, seeing her abrupt turn back. It was hard not to be amused by her.

"Here you go," he said as he strolled back over to her and handed her his t-shirt. "Don't worry, I won't look," he informed her and as the cheeky guy he was deep down, added his signature wink. "I'm sure there is an extra tooth brush in the bathroom, if you wanna join," he continued and walked over to the other side of the suite, hoping she was watching him walk around in boxers only.

Finally having some distance and a minute to contain herself, she carefully undressed, leaving on only her panties and his shirt on. Only then she noticed just how intoxicating his natural smell was. Knowing well enough she was doomed.

When Y/N finally joined him in the bathroom, he gave her the second toothbrush in silence and kept brushing his own teeth. It was refreshing seeing her in such an intimate setting. He tried as best as he could not to notice just how hot she looked in his t-shirt. Watching her in the reflection, he realized he never appreciated a moment like that with anyone else before. He smiled at her, because he could see her shy nature peeking through causing her hair behind her ear.

She was about to join him back in the bed when she saw him placed right in the middle of the bed, far from when was last time she approached him like that.

"It's the hard spot, there is no other way," he brushed over it nonchalantly and tucked himself in the bed. "Come on, here, here," he patted a spot next to him. In the dim light, with shadows only highlighting his toned chest, curly hair falling over to his eyes, innocent smile and opened arms, he was like a mystical creature created only to entrap Y/N. At least, that's how that felt. No way back.

She slipped in the bed with him, to the exact position as they were just minutes ago and turned of the light once again. This time, Lando was way more relaxed even Y/N noticed the difference. With each passing moment it was becoming less and less stiff or awkward. Comfort replacing natural stress of sharing a bed with a stranger for the first time. For a brief second, it was as if they'd done this every night before drifting off to sleep. Lando was happy to take things slow. Not expecting anything more. He was content with knowing she was not planning on leaving him there alone that night and that was enough. Not for Y/N. Her body was acting way before her mind could stop her. Her now warm fingers started drawing little stars on his exposed chest. It was peaceful. Until her finger moved a little lower. Another gulp from Lando. She felt him tightening his grip on her.

"Careful now...I might get the wrong idea," he breathed out for only her to hear.

Their lips were so riddiculously close, yet too far away. The only thing she wanted to do was kiss him. All restraint suddenly gone. But she needed to be sure - did he wanted to kiss her? If she dared to ask him, he'd laugh out loud at the obviousness of it all. Poor guy didn't notice her desire because he spent all of his energy trying to hide his.

She licked her lips. "Wrong idea...like sending me away?"

Loud sigh from Lando. "No..the wrong wrong idea," he whispered, being so close to her she could feel his soft breath, as he started to move his hard up her arm, under the t-shirt he gave her. She became very aware of the fact she was not wearing a bra, something Lando noticed the moment she came to the bathroom. His arm stopped momentarily at her shoulder. " Wrong idea that you want me to do this..." he continued moving his hand again, "...or this," reached up to her collarbone while pressing her closer to him with his other arm. "Or heaven forbid..." he whispered a question as his lips were nearly touching hers. Lando was too scared to make the first move, still afraid she might vanish into thin air.

She was brave enough to close the gap. "Or this." With that, she kissed him.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

@ushygushybaby

[north-noire]

My Michael Afton throughout the years! ft. his own little doodles. I'll try to be brief about the timeline and how my Michael was without saying too much since it'll be explored in the Hidden Hands AU fic's chapters anyway so I won't say all the details. Feel free to read if you guys like! I have a lot to say about him.

1983 (FNAF 4) - Michael was 12 or 13-ish when the Bite happened. Very reckless yet adventurous kid. Didn't really hate Evan (William, as much as he had a soft spot for Evan, still loved Michael all the same), just had really bad friends and influence (his friends were mostly bullies) - and didn't really like that he's being told to parent a little brother he had no idea how to take care of. It didn't help that Evan tended to be a tattle-tail sometimes about the trouble he was getting into. Michael also, deep down, got scared of what the bullies would do to him if he dared stand up for his brother or spoke out against them, so he ends up going along with what they did for his own sake. After the Bite, Michael was still deeply guilty about what he did to Evan, and it haunts him every night, knowing he had no good excuse but irresponsibility for what he did to his brother, because after all, it wasn't like William wasn't giving him enough attention. Michael just knew that he deserved anything unfortunate coming to him, but is genuinely surprised that his father kept telling him he loved him all the same. From this point on, he becomes easily troubled, tends to stay close to his dad. Makes sure he follows the rules and doesn't do trouble. Just wants to do a complete personality shift, and is deeply ashamed of who he was before. 1985 (Charlie's death, Fredbear's Family Diner shuts down) - Michael was 15 here. Over the years, he slowly isolated himself from most of the people in his life since he gets worried about his past scars coming back to haunt him. Mostly a recluse and reserved. He's not handling things well after Charlie's death and a family divorce - not to mention the non-existent social life he had. Just prefers to be left alone, but he's nice if you get to know him. Doesn't really have a good relationship with Elizabeth, but is actually pretty close with William. Feels extremely guilty and hates himself/blames himself for Charlie's death. He gets paranoid easily, as he thinks whoever took Charlie is now after him, but his father tells him to not worry too much about it. 1987 (FNAF 2) - (17) Slowly having a good relationship with Elizabeth. Starts to get into stuff like the supernatural and becomes superstitious to a degree over the years. In public, he's mostly polite and nice, but his actual personality shows through whenever he's with his father or Elizabeth - he's sarcastic, and has quite a dark sense of humor, can be a bit of a rebel, he's just more subtle about it. A bit of an over-thinker - he gets lost in his imagination/head easily. Has a (surprisingly) good relationship with his dad, as he's not really afraid to be himself around him - sometimes gifts him funny things or something he knows his dad would love/would use (he gifts William a rabbit's foot - for good luck, he says). He also helped William build the Fun-Times with blueprints and other technicalities (He's not really aware of the questionable features they had, unfortunately). He couldn't really come with his father and Elizabeth on Circus Baby's Pizza World opening due to things he had to catch up with his home-schooling, he had been skipping classes to work on the Fun-Times, but he really wanted to graduate highschool with a bang, so he's giving everything his all, here. Then Elizabeth suddenly goes missing all of a sudden, and, well... I would say more, but my fic sort of takes a canon-divergence route around FNAF 2/SL-FNAF 1 so that would spoil half of the stuff I've been working/writing about! Reference-sheet wise, I just wanted to show how he progresses from a rebellious, happy and adventurous kid into a more reclused, anxious and soft-spoken adult. Sorry for the long post! I've just been wanting to talk about him for some time now. There's a looot more that I've left out but yeah that's because there will be more in the fic!

[buckets-and-trees]

I love that Steve and her mom got to connect and build a better understanding. And loving the development of the marriage. ❤️🤍💙

I'm so glad you enjoyed that! It was a chapter that was a uniquely fun part of the story for me to explore with them - as much about our reader as it was about Steve and her mom.

This chapter has many more married moments...

Red, White & True: Pittsburgh & Harrisburg [13/17]

Characters/Pairings: Steve Rogers x curvy Millennial Female!Reader Word Count: 9.1k Summary: With only two weeks until Election Day, the truth behind photo-gate finally breaks on national news, potentially changing the game for all the campaigns. Steve changes the energy for his own campaign when he addresses his largest crowd yet, and afterwards, the two of you get to spend a few quiet moments together before hitting the next campaign stop.

Content/Warnings: political policy discussion, marriage of political convenience, slow burn, really the slowest burn

Notes: This takes place in a post-Endgame scenario where Steve stays and generally most of TFATWS happened.

Author Notes: It's been a long time since the last update, and that's what I'm blaming on delivering such a long chapter with the muse! I really almost split this one in half, and I did cut a couple of scenes (that I hope to include later), but I had to keep the rest here as it is.

Previous Chapter | Series

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

[OCTOBER 20 - LATE MORNING - PITTSBURGH, PENNSYLVANIA]

“Don’t look at me like that,” Steve said. 

“Like what?” you countered.

He turned his head squarely to look at you, arching an eyebrow. “I can feel the disapproval in your gaze.”

“I’m not…” you huff, “I’m not disapproving, I’m just not convinced you’re getting enough sleep at all.”

Outside, the autumn landscape blazes in a riot of crimson and gold, the trees lining the highway creating a fiery corridor that seems to mirror the intensity of the campaign trail. You've been on the road for what feels like an eternity, crisscrossing the country in a blur of rallies, town halls, and fundraisers.

Steve looks down at the speech notes spread across the small tray table over his lap, the papers covered in handwritten revisions and highlighted passages. The light of the late morning highlights the fatigue etched into his features - subtle shadows beneath his eyes, the slight droop of his shoulders, the way he keeps blinking a little too deliberately as if fighting to keep his eyes open. 

"I'll sleep after the election," he says, the corner of his mouth quirking up in that half-smile that usually makes your heart flutter. Today, it only deepens your concern. 

Across the aisle, Bucky scoffs silently, his metal arm whirring as he flips through a stack of polling data. The sound is barely audible, but the judgmental raise of his eyebrows speaks volumes. You catch his eye and share a moment of mutual exasperation. 

"Election Day is still two weeks away," you remind Steve, your voice gentle but firm. 

Steve sighs, running a hand through his hair, making it stand up in endearing tufts. "I'm fine. The serum—" 

"Don't you dare finish that sentence," you interrupt, narrowing your eyes. "Super soldier or not, you're still human." 

Bucky snorts, not bothering to hide his amusement this time. "She's got you there, pal." 

Steve shoots him a betrayed look. "Whose side are you on?" 

"The side that doesn't want to see you faceplant in the middle of your speech at the rally this afternoon," Bucky retorts, setting down his tablet. 

Steve scrubs a hand over his beard. "I just need to finish these revisions. This speech is crucial – Pennsylvania could make or break us." 

You reach across the table, gently taking the pen from his fingers. "And that's exactly why you need to rest. You can't win Pennsylvania if you're running on fumes." 

His shoulders slump slightly, a rare moment of vulnerability that makes your chest ache. "I can't afford to waste time sleeping when there's so much at stake." 

"It's not wasting time," you say softly. "It's making sure you're at your best." 

"Fine. I'll rest," he concedes, though his eyes drift back to the speech notes in front of him. 

“This is why you have an impeccable speech writing team,” you remind him, gently tugging the notes from his hands, which he allows, though with a deep frown. 

Bucky stands, you hand the notes to him, and he heads to the back of the bus where said speech writes are clumped together. 

As Bucky disappears, Steve's eyes follow him briefly before returning to you. The campaign bus sways gently as it rounds a curve, sending a shaft of sunlight through the window. It catches in Steve's hair, turning the blond strands to burnished gold, and for a moment, he looks almost like the propaganda posters from the 1940s—Captain America, illuminated and larger than life.

But then he blinks, and he's just Steve again. Tired, stubborn Steve, with worry lines creasing his forehead and that particular set to his jaw that tells you he's still mentally revising that speech.

"Elspeth's been with you since your announcement to run. She knows your voice better than anyone."

"Elspeth's going to think I'm micromanaging," Steve mutters, but there's less conviction in his voice now.

"She will, but Elspeth's used to it," you counter with a gentle smile. "And she always anticipates your edits."

"I know," Steve admits, his voice softening. "Elspeth's brilliant. It's just..." He trails off, his eyes drifting to the window where Pennsylvania's rolling hills pass by in a blur of autumn splendor.

You understand what he can't quite articulate—the weight of responsibility he carries, how deeply personal this campaign has become. Not just another mission, but perhaps his most important one yet.

"Each face out there," Steve continues, "they're looking for something real. Something true." He turns back to you, and the intensity in his eyes makes your breath catch. "I can't give them polished words that don’t hold their weight.”

“Steve, you’ve meant every word you’ve said on this campaign - probably every word you’ve said in your whole life - and you’ll continue to say the right thing whether it’s what’s been written or something you know should be said in the moment.”

His eyes burn more intensely at your words, and your chest swells. That fire is one of the things that has drawn you so much to him these past months. 

Once you catch your breath again, you say, “But only if you’re well-rested.”

Steve shakes his head and chuckles softly. “I see you refuse to relinquish your point.”

“Part of my wifely duties,” you tease. 

He looks down at your hand on his arm and covers it with his own. 

"You know," Steve says after a moment, his thumb tracing absent patterns on the back of your hand, "if I'm not working on this speech, I'd rather spend the time with you than just sleeping."

The tenderness in his voice makes your heart skip. Will he always have this effect on you?

"We've barely had a moment to ourselves since Cincinnati," he continues, his eyes softening as they meet yours. "Three rallies, two fundraisers…”

“And a partridge in a pear tree,” you interject. “Fifteen minutes of shut eye. That’s what? The equivalent of three hours of super soldier sleep?” You put even more sarcastic teasing into your tone.

“You know what, Mrs. Rogers?” His voice is stern, but his grin matches yours. 

"What I know is that you need to—" 

Your retort is cut short by an eruption of noise from the back of the bus. Raised voices cascade forward like a wave, punctuated by gasps and exclamations. 

Steve's posture changes instantly, fatigue forgotten as his body coils with alertness. His hand squeezes yours once before releasing it, already half-rising from his seat. 

"Everyone shut up!" Jake's voice booms over the commotion. "Just shut up for a second so I can—"

The campaign manager’s fingers fly over the remote control for the bus's sophisticated video system, the multiple screens embedded up and down the large vehicle flashing to life as Jake gets the system to tune into CNN. 

"—breaking news just coming into CNN," Wolf Blitzer's voice fills the campaign bus, commanding everyone's attention. "We're following a major development regarding those controversial photographs that surfaced last week." 

The entire bus falls silent. Your blood runs cold as Wolf's face fills the screens, his expression serious. Steve's hand finds yours again, gripping it tightly, and you’re grateful for something to hold onto. 

"For those just joining us," Wolf explains, "on October 12, Fox News aired what they claimed were exclusive photographs showing the wife of presidential candidate Steve Rogers entering a Planned Parenthood clinic. The images appeared to show her in what Fox commentators described as a 'visibly pregnant' condition."

Your stomach twists into knots. Those fabricated images had been a nightmare—more than a crude photoshop job showing your face pasted onto someone else's body, they were crafted so well that you would have believed them yourself if not for knowing that you’d never been pregnant. 

“Mrs. Rogers responded almost immediately claiming the photos were fake and then turning her comments to focus on the services Planned Parenthood provides; the need for better healthcare, access, and education for women’s health in America; and then later the same day, the way women are targeted for political points.”

You held your breath, waiting for what he would say next. 

“While the Rogers-Young campaign focused on their platforms and messaging, the debate over these photos died down, but it still hasn’t gone away. We have new sources, however, that have confirmed that the photos were given to Fox News by the Coalition for Strengthening the Families of America Today - or CSFAT, that the photos were created with extremely sophisticated artificial intelligence, and that CSFAT obtained them from former Secretary of State Thaddeus Ross.”

The bus erupts in chaos again—a mixture of outrage, relief, and vindication washing over the campaign team. This is exactly what Bucky had managed to uncover the week before. Jake is already on his phone, barking orders, while Elspeth starts frantically typing on her tablet next to communications director Lisa, no doubt drafting potential statements. Bucky's face has darkened dangerously, his metal hand clenching into a fist. He and Steve exchange another look, and Bucky shakes his head. 

Steve had no doubt been asking if Bucky had leaked the information. 

Wolf Blitzer continues, "CNN has obtained exclusive emails between Ross and CSFAT leadership dating back three months, discussing what they called 'strategic image deployment' ahead of the battleground state swing. Ross has not responded to our requests for comment, but his former chief of staff confirmed the rumors that Ross and Rogers always had a terse relationship that was never repaired, even after the reversal of the Sokovia Accords. The Justice Department has just announced they are opening an investigation into potential election interference."

The screen splits to show a panel of commentators, one of whom immediately jumps in. "This is unprecedented, Wolf. Using AI to create false images of a candidate's spouse to suggest she terminated a pregnancy—clearly targeting conservative voters who might otherwise support Rogers and dissuade them from moving away from the Republican—it crosses a dangerous ethical line in political campaigning." 

"What's more disturbing," another panelist adds, "is that Ross has up to this point vocally claimed that he wasn’t supporting any campaign. This appears to be a personal vendetta that he’s latched onto the Republican Party to wage against Rogers." 

Steve's jaw tightens as he watches, the muscle in his cheek twitching. His hand remains firmly clasped around yours, his thumb now moving in slow, grounding circles against your skin. 

"I knew it," Sophia hisses from behind you. "I knew it was Ross."

Jake raises his hand, silencing the growing murmurs. "Everyone, listen up. This is our true October surprise. This changes our strategy for Pittsburgh. We need to be ready to answer questions simply, directly, and then pivot directly to our core messaging. Strong but dignified. No gloating, no goading.”

Steve's eyes haven't left the screen, where the news ticker rolls beneath the panel discussion: "BREAKING: ROSS IMPLICATED IN FAKE PREGNANCY PHOTOS." 

"Good advice," Steve says to Jake, his voice steady despite the storm you can feel brewing beneath his calm exterior. "But I'll be addressing this head-on." 

Jake's expression tightens. "Steve, we need to be careful about—" 

"Not to score political points," Steve interrupts, his gaze finally breaking from the screen to survey the bus. The entire campaign team has gone quiet, watching the exchange. "But this isn't just about me or the campaign anymore. 54This is about deliberately using technology to deceive the American people." 

You squeeze his hand, understanding exactly where his mind is going. Steve has always been wary of how easily information can be manipulated in the digital age—something he's witnessed evolve from wartime propaganda posters to the sophisticated disinformation campaigns of the modern era.

"My wife was deliberately targeted, and everyone should be concerned about this kind of deception," Steve continues, his voice taking on that resonant quality that makes people stop and listen. "They can do this to anyone."

"We’ll reframe the Convention Center speech," Elspeth says, through a moment of silence that had formed after Steve’s declaration. 

Steve nods at her. "This is our chance to talk about truth, integrity, and the future of information in American democracy."

Jake paces the narrow aisle, phone still clutched in his hand. "The press is already blowing up. Everyone wants a statement." 

"Let them wait," Steve says firmly. "We do this right, not rushed." 

[OCTOBER 20 - EARLY AFTERNOON - PITTSBURGH, PENNSYLVANIA]

Ninety minutes later, the David L. Lawrence Convention Center thrums with an energy that feels almost tangible, like electricity crackling just beneath the surface of the air. Twenty thousand people fill the enormous space, their collective presence turning the cavernous hall into something intimate and alive. The steel beams arching overhead—a nod to Pittsburgh's industrial heritage—gleam under the red, white, and blue lights that bathe the crowd in a cool glow.

You stand in the wings, watching as Mayor Ed Gainey approaches the microphone. The buzz of the crowd ebbs slightly as he raises his hands, though the anticipation remains palpable, a living thing that breathes and pulses throughout the hall.

Steve stands beside you, his shoulders squared, his focus absolute. The fatigue that lined his face on the bus has ebbed away for now. “Ready?” he asks. 

You reach out to brush your fingers against his, and he tangles them together. You look up at him and nod. “Let’s do this.” 

Mayor Gainey's voice reverberates through the convention center, his words riding on waves of anticipation. "Pittsburgh has always been a city that knows the value of truth!" His declaration brings a surge of applause. "When the steel mills closed, we faced hard truths and rebuilt. When our rivers were polluted, we faced those truths and cleaned them. When our economy needed to evolve, we embraced new truths and transformed!" 

The crowd responds with thunderous approval, a sea of signs bobbing like buoys in an ocean of supporters. From your vantage point, you can see the handmade offerings: ROGERS FOR AMERICA and TRUTH, JUSTICE & THE AMERICAN WAY alongside cleverly repurposed vintage Captain America propaganda posters updated with campaign slogans.

"And today," Mayor Gainey continues, his voice swelling with pride, "we stand together as Pittsburghers, as Pennsylvanians, as Americans, to welcome a man who has fought for truth his entire life. But first—" he pauses, a warm smile spreading across his face, "I have the distinct honor of welcoming to the stage someone who has become a powerful voice in her own right during this campaign." 

The crowd's energy shifts, a ripple of recognition moving through the packed convention center. 

"Someone who has shown grace under fire, who has turned personal attacks into opportunities to speak about issues that matter to all Americans." Mayor Gainey's voice rises above the growing applause. "Please welcome the woman who has stood shoulder to shoulder with Captain Rogers through every step of his campaign—not just as his wife, but as a champion for healthcare, for education, and for the future we all deserve—ladies and gentlemen, the next First Lady of the United States!"

The roar that sweeps through the convention center hits you like a physical force.

You blink and then look up at Steve who looks just as humbled as you feel. You figured the mayor would say positive things, but neither you nor Steve had any idea the mayor would give tantamount to an endorsement.

Mayor Gainey steps back from the podium, applauding enthusiastically as you feel Steve's hand at the small of your back, a gentle pressure urging you forward.

"You've got this," he murmurs, his breath warm against your ear.

You climb the steps up to the stage, stepping out from the wings, blinking against the sudden intensity of the stage lights. The crowd's reaction surges again, a wave of sound that crashes over you as you cross to center stage. 

Mayor Gainey embraces you briefly before stepping aside, leaving you alone at the podium facing the sea of faces. For a heartbeat, the enormity of the moment washes over you—twenty thousand people, all waiting for your words. The lights are blinding, the noise deafening, but as you adjust the microphone, a strange calm settles over you. 

These people, many of whom have traveled hours to be here, aren't just cheering for you; they're cheering for what you have been working to represent, for the vision of America that Steve and his running mate have been fighting to articulate.

"Thank you, Pittsburgh," you say, your voice steady despite the frenzied fire of nerves in your chest. The crowd quiets, though the energy remains electric. "Thank you for that incredible welcome. And thank you, Mayor Gainey, for those kind words." 

You take a deep breath and look out across the sea of expectant faces.

"I wasn't scheduled to do more than introduce my husband today," you continue, a small smile playing at your lips. "But I think we've all learned that sometimes plans change. And I won't take much more of your time, except to say this: the truth matters. It has always mattered."

A knowing murmur ripples through the crowd, and you can feel them with you, present in a way that transcends the physical space between podium and audience.

"I'm not here to dwell on deceptions, or to point fingers. I’m here today to bring to the stage a man committed to honesty, to people, to hard work. A man who has faced impossible odds before, and who will face them again, because that's who he is." Your voice strengthens, finding its rhythm. "A man who believes—who knows—that this country deserves leaders who will look you in the eye and tell you the truth, whether it's easy or hard. Whether it wins votes or costs them."

A swell of applause rises and falls quickly as people are eager for your next words.

"And I promise you this, he’s worth your vote. He will carry your votes with him every single day of your his presidency if you put him into the Oval Office. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you my husband, Steve Rogers!"

The applause erupts into something seismic as Steve strides onto the stage, his presence immediately filling the vast space. His smile is warm as he embraces you, holding you just a moment longer than protocol might dictate. His lips brush against your ear. 

"That wasn't in the script," he whispers, the pride in his voice unmistakable. 

"Not everything that needs to be said is," you whisper back.

As you step away, the crowd's roar intensifies. Steve approaches the podium with that particular gait of his—purposeful, measured, shoulders squared—the stance of a man who has carried the weight of responsibility for so long it's become part of his physical bearing. 

You move off to the side of the stage, watching as he raises his hands, waiting for the cheers to subside. It takes nearly a full minute before the crowd lets him speak.

"Thank you, Pittsburgh," Steve begins, his voice cutting through the remaining applause like a warm current. "And thank you to my wife for that introduction." 

He pauses, his eyes finding yours across the stage, a brief moment of connection before he turns back to the crowd. 

"As some of you may have seen on the news today, there's been a development regarding the photographs of my wife that circulated last week." His tone shifts, becoming more measured, more deliberate. "It's been confirmed that they were fabricated—created using artificial intelligence and distributed as part of a coordinated effort to mislead voters - to mislead you."

A ripple of murmurs and scattered boos crosses the audience. 

"I could stand here and talk about who was behind it or why they did it," Steve continues, his hands resting on either side of the podium. "I could spend my time expressing outrage over having my wife's image manipulated for political gain. But that's not why I'm here with you today."

His voice drops slightly, taking on a resonance that makes the massive convention center feel suddenly intimate, as if he's speaking directly to each person in the room. 

"I'm here to talk about something more fundamental. Something that matters to every single American, regardless of who they plan to vote for in two weeks." Steve pauses, his gaze sweeping across the crowd. "I'm here to talk about truth. About reality. About the fact that these campaigns aren’t games to be won.”

A hush falls over the audience, the kind of attentive silence that comes when twenty thousand people collectively lean forward to listen. 

"I was born in 1918. When I woke up in this century, one of the first things that amazed me was the access to information. When I was a kid, you might get news once a day from the radio or newspaper. Now, it's constant, immediate—a miracle of technology." His expression turns solemn. "But with that miracle comes responsibility. And today, we're facing a crisis of truth unlike anything in our history."

Steve's voice resonates through the convention center, commanding the space with a quiet authority that has nothing to do with volume and everything to do with conviction. 

"I've seen propaganda before," he continues, "posters of me selling war bonds, films edited to shape public opinion. But what we're facing now is different. When technology can create images, videos, and voices indistinguishable from reality—when what we see can no longer be trusted—the very foundation of our democracy is at risk." 

You watch from your spot backstage, feeling a surge of pride mixed with something deeper—the recognition that this is Steve at his most authentic, speaking not as a candidate but as a man who has witnessed a century of change.

"Some will say I'm old-fashioned," Steve says, "that I don't understand modern politics. Maybe they're right about the first part." A ripple of laughter moves through the crowd. "But I understand something fundamental about democracy: it depends on informed citizens. And you can't be informed if you're being deliberately misled." 

The crowd stirs, murmurs of agreement rising and falling like waves. 

"I'm not here to tell you who to believe or what sources to trust," Steve continues, his voice growing more passionate. "I'm here to ask you to question. To verify. To seek out primary sources and diverse perspectives. To remember that convenience should never trump accuracy." 

He pauses, his eyes scanning the crowd with that piercing intensity that makes each person feel seen. 

"I'm running for president because I believe we can do better," Steve says, his voice gaining momentum like a wave building strength. "Not just in how we govern, but in how we communicate. In how we disagree. In how we find our way back to a shared understanding of reality."

Steve's hands grip the podium more firmly, his knuckles whitening slightly. You recognize this gesture—it's what he does when he's restraining stronger emotion, channeling it into focused energy.

"I've spent my life fighting for this country," he continues, his voice dropping to a deeper baritone that carries to every corner of the convention center. "Not for a flag or a piece of land, but for an idea. The radical notion that people should govern themselves, that we can come together across our differences to build something greater than any one of us could achieve alone."

The crowd hangs on his every word. The usual campaign energy has transformed into something more reverent, more attentive. 

"That idea—that experiment in democracy—it only works when we share a basic understanding of facts. When we can disagree about interpretations and solutions, but not about the fundamental reality we're all facing." Steve's voice grows stronger, more resolute. "The fabricated images of my wife weren't just an attack on her or on me. They were an attack on your right to make informed decisions based on truth." 

The convention center is utterly silent, twenty thousand people captivated.

"I've been asked why I don't fight dirtier in this campaign," Steve continues, a wry smile briefly crossing his face. "Why I don't hit back harder when I'm attacked. The answer is simple: because that's exactly what's tearing us apart. 

"The constant escalation, the dehumanization of our opponents, the willingness to say or do anything to win." Steve's voice rises, filling the convention center with a passion that resonates in your chest even from where you stand backstage. "I refuse to contribute to that cycle. Not because I'm naive, but because it’s not a future I want to be a part of. It’s not the future I want for our country.”

You watch as Steve straightens, his shoulders squaring as he blazes forward with this crowd hanging onto his every word.

"Now let me yell you what I do want for our country,” he says, and then Steve pivots seamlessly into the stump speech of policy points he had planned to give all along, pointed highlights about healthcare, climate change, housing, immigration, and the economy.

You take a deep breath, realizing you’d been holding your breath, just as captivated by Steve’s words as everyone else in the convention center.

Jake steps up next to you and hands you a bottle of water. 

You smile and take it wordlessly. 

“That’s why I signed onto this campaign,” he says. 

Your smile grows. 

“Don’t get me wrong, the paycheck is nothing to sneer at,” Jake adds, “but I can negotiate a nice fee from any campaign. But it’s candidates like Steve that made me want to be a political consultant and run campaigns in the first place.”

“There’s no other candidate like Steve though,” you respond. 

"That's absolutely true," Jake acknowledges, his gaze still fixed on Steve as the crowd erupts into applause. "In twenty years of doing this, I've never seen anyone who can speak from the heart like him and still hit every policy point without sounding rehearsed."

You nod, watching as Steve gestures emphatically, his conviction radiating across the convention center. The crowd responds with another wave of cheers, signs bobbing like a multicolored tide.

"He believes every word," you say softly.

"That's why he's exhausted," Jake replies, a hint of concern threading through his professional demeanor. "So many candidates turn it on for the cameras and speeches, then collapse into cynicism or retreat behind closed doors. Steve's the same person in private as he is up there."

On stage, Steve has reached the crescendo of his speech, his voice rising not in volume but in intensity, his words binding the audience together in a shared vision. 

"He's always been that way," Bucky interjects, stepping up next to both of you. "The weight of the world on his shoulders and the determination to carry it."

"After Pittsburgh, we have a three-hour drive to the hotel in Harrisburg," Jake says, checking his watch. "You two make sure he actually sleeps. We need him at full strength for the final push."

You nod, your eyes never leaving Steve as he reaches the conclusion of his speech. 

"I'm not asking you to vote for me because I was Captain America," he says, his hands gripping the podium. "I'm asking you to vote for me because I believe in an America where we face our challenges together. Where we don't hide from hard truths or difficult conversations. Where we remember that our neighbors aren't our enemies, even when we disagree.

"Two weeks from today, you'll make your choice," Steve continues. "Whatever that choice is, I ask only this: make it based on truth. Make it based on substance. Make it based on the future you want to build—not just for yourself, but for generations to come in this, our United States of America!"

The crowd erupts into a thunderous standing ovation, the sound rolling through the convention center like a physical force. Steve stands tall at the podium, allowing the moment to crest before raising his hands in a gesture of gratitude. The campaign's playlist begins to blast through the speakers as red, white, and blue confetti rains down from the ceiling, catching the stage lights and transforming the air into a shimmering curtain.

"Thank you, Pittsburgh!" Steve's voice rings out over the roar. 

You watch as Steve moves away from the podium, waving to the crowd, his smile genuine despite the exhaustion you can still see lurking behind his eyes. Mayor Gainey returns to the stage along with several local officials, all eager for that crucial photograph with the man dangerously close to leading in the Pennsylvania polls.

"He nailed it," Bucky murmurs beside you, his eyes tracking Steve as he navigates the crowd of dignitaries with practiced ease. "That part about propaganda—he's been wanting to say that for weeks."

The backstage area has transformed into organized chaos—staffers darting between equipment cases, security personnel murmuring into earpieces, journalists hovering at the edges hoping for a quick comment. Through it all, Steve moves with that particular grace of his, giving each person his full attention despite the crush of bodies and demands.

"We need to get him moving toward the exit," Lisa says, appearing at your side with her ever-present tablet. "The press line outside is getting restless, and we're already going to take heat from them for not fielding any questions on the way in.”

Steve walks toward the edge of the stage where you're waiting, and his eyes find yours immediately. The public persona slips just slightly—enough for you to see the exhaustion he keeps ignoring creeping back in around the edges. He reaches for your hand as he descends the steps, his fingers lacing with yours immediately. 

You reach your other hand up, curling it around the side of his neck, and pull him in for an enthusiastic kiss. Steve's arm wraps around your waist, pulling you closer, his body solid and warm against yours. When you finally break apart, his eyes are bright despite the fatigue.

"You were magnificent up there," you tell him, your voice low enough that only he can hear. 

His expression softens, and he brushes a strand of hair from your face with gentle fingers. "I meant every word."

"I know you did.”

"We need to move," Lisa urges from behind you, her voice slightly tense with the pressure of maintaining the schedule.

“You heard her,” Bucky intervenes, backing her up, “move it along, love birds.” 

You bite your lip to suppress a giggle, your happiness at a peak in this moment. The energy from the enthusiastic and enormous crowd, Steve’s powerful speech, nailing your own impromptu changes for his introduction, but mostly from still being pressed close to Steve, the warmth of the spontaneous kiss lingering on your lips. 

Steve's hand finds the small of your back as you both begin moving toward the exit, navigating through the backstage labyrinth. Security personnel form a discreet barrier around you, their eyes constantly scanning the surroundings.

"Two minutes with the local press, then straight to the bus," Jake instructs, falling into step beside Steve. "We touch on the Ross revelation only if directly asked. Otherwise, it's healthcare and manufacturing for Pennsylvania."

Once you’re back on the campaign bus and rolling to Harrisburg, you are able to easily coax Steve to “rest” in the back of the bus. 

The door to the private quarters has barely clicked shut when Steve's hands are at your waist, spinning you around, backing you against the wall with an urgency that makes your breath catch. His mouth finds yours, hungry and insistent, the restraint he shows in public nowhere to be found.

"I've been wanting to do that all day," he murmurs against your lips, his voice rough with desire.

Your fingers thread through his hair, pulling him closer as if the inch of space between you is too much to bear. "Just today?" you tease, gasping as his lips trace a path down your neck.

"Every day," he corrects, his hands framing your hips, rubbing circles with his thumbs over the smooth fabric of your blouse. "Every minute."

"Steve," you breathe, your body responding eagerly even as your mind reminds you of his need for rest in this rare break in the schedule. His lips are tracing a path along your jaw that makes coherent thought increasingly difficult. The gentle sway of the campaign bus adds a dreamlike quality to the moment.

Your hands move to his chest, not quite pushing him away but creating just enough space to look up into his eyes. The blue of his irises has darkened with desire, but you can still see the shadows beneath them, the slight redness that speaks of too many late nights and early mornings. 

"As much as I'd love to continue this," you say softly, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw, "you're supposed to be resting." 

A flash of stubbornness crosses his features, and you can't help a small laugh tumbling out. 

Steve makes a noise somewhere between a growl and a sigh, pressing his forehead against yours. "I'm fine," he insists, but the way he leans into you betrays a hint of the exhaustion you’ve been worrying over all day. 

"You're running on fumes," you counter softly, tracing one finger over the delicate skin beneath his eye where the shadows have deepened over the past week. "We have a three-hour drive to Harrisburg. That's three precious hours you can sleep."

"I'd rather spend them with you," he murmurs, his lips finding a sensitive spot just below your ear that makes you shiver. "Awake."

You close your eyes, momentarily lost in the sensation of his touch. The campaign bus hums beneath you, the rhythm of the highway creating a gentle, rocking motion that feels oddly intimate in the confines of the private quarters. 

"What if we compromise? You sleep," you suggest, your fingers now working at his tie, loosening the knot. "And I'll be right here beside you."

His hands cover yours, stilling your movements. "That's not much of a compromise," he points out, a hint of amusement in his voice despite the fatigue etched into his features. "I agreed to rest. Not necessarily to sleep."

"Alright," you continue, slipping the tie from around his neck and draping it over the hook on the back of the door. "We can rest together. Just lie down. Talk. Be still for a while."

Steve studies your face, his expression softening. "Just talk?" 

"Just talk," you confirm as you edge past him to the tiny bunks. It will be a cozy fit for the two of you, but you know neither of you will mind. You scoot in and get situated with Steve climbing right in behind you. He goes in for a kiss, and another laugh bubbles up from your chest, even as you melt slightly against him. "You're impossible."

"And you're wonderful," he counters, his thumb tracing the curve of your lower lip. "Especially when you're watching out for me."

Your expression softens. "Someone has to."

Steve's playfulness fades slightly, replaced by something more vulnerable. "I know I push too hard sometimes."

"You always push too hard," you correct gently. "I’ve only known you for five months, and I know it's who you are."

He sighs, resting his forehead against yours again. "The stakes feel so high."

"They are high," you acknowledge, one your hands coming to rest on his chest as he settles on his back and you curl up to his side. “But that crowd we just came from was incredible. And you connected so well with them. I can feel a shift.”

"You really think so?" Steve asks, his voice lower now, a hint of uncertainty threading through the words that most never get to hear from him. You certainly didn’t for your first months together.

You prop yourself up on one elbow to look at him properly, taking in the fine lines around his eyes, the slight furrow between his brows that never fully smooths away these days. "I do. The way they responded to you... it wasn't just political enthusiasm. It was something deeper."

Steve's hand finds yours, his thumb tracing absent patterns across your knuckles. "Pennsylvania is the key. If we can flip it..." 

"We can," you assure him, settling back down against his chest. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear is comforting, a metronome counting out the moments of this rare peaceful interlude. "But not if you collapse from exhaustion first." 

Steve chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest beneath your ear. 

"And it wasn't just the content of the speech," you say, your fingers idly tracing patterns on his chest through his shirt. "It was you. The way you speak—it's like you're having a conversation with each person in that room individually."

"That's how my mother taught me to talk to people. 'Look them in the eye, Steven, and speak from your heart.'"

"Sarah Rogers sounds like she was quite a woman."

"She would have loved you," Steve says.

You feel his chest rise and fall beneath your cheek, his breathing beginning to deepen despite his resistance to sleep.

"What would she think of all this?" you ask softly. "Her son running for president?"

Steve is quiet for so long you nearly wonder if he's already drifted off, but then his voice comes, quieter now. "She'd probably say I was being stubborn again, taking on more than I should." You laugh softly together. "But then she'd roll up her sleeves and ask how she could help."

You smile against his shirt. "Like mother, like son."

Steve tips your chin up, and kisses you again, softly. 

The kiss lingers, soft and unhurried, a gentle contrast to the frenetic pace that has defined your lives these past months. His lips move against yours with a tenderness that makes your heart ache, and you find yourself melting into him, the campaign, the polls, the speeches, the turmoil all forgotten in this moment of connection.

When you finally break apart, Steve's eyes remain closed for a moment longer, his lashes casting delicate shadows on his cheeks in the dim afternoon light.

"Tell me something," you murmur, settling back against his chest, your head tucked perfectly beneath his chin. 

"Hmm?" His voice vibrates through his chest against your ear. 

"Something I don't know yet. Something from before." 

Steve's arm tightens around you, pulling you closer as the campaign bus rumbles beneath you. 

"Before," he repeats, his voice taking on that distant quality it sometimes gets when he reaches back across the decades. "You know, when I first woke up in this century, I kept a list." 

"A list?" 

"Things people told me I needed to catch up on. Thai food. Star Wars. Disco." A gentle laugh rumbles through his chest. "I was so focused on what I'd missed that I barely thought about what I remembered." 

You trace idle patterns on his shirt, feeling his heartbeat steady beneath your fingertips. "And what do you remember most clearly?" 

Steve is quiet for a long moment, his breathing deep and even. When he speaks again, his voice is softer. 

"The smell of apples cooking down with cinnamon in my mother's kitchen," Steve says, his voice taking on a dreamy quality. "The way sunlight looked filtering through the clotheslines strung between tenements. The sound of kids playing stickball in the street." 

You close your eyes, trying to picture it—Brooklyn before the war, before skyscrapers and smartphones, before Steve became Captain America. 

"We didn't have much," he continues, his fingers absently stroking your hair. "But there was a richness to life then that's hard to explain. People looked out for each other because they had to. Mrs. Calabrese from the third floor would watch me when my mother worked late shifts at the TB ward. Mr. Goldstein at the corner store would save bruised fruit for us at half price." 

"It sounds wonderful," you murmur. 

"Parts of it were," Steve says, his voice soft with memory. "And parts were harder than anything you can imagine. The winters when we couldn't afford enough coal. The Great Depression was more than the physical lack. There was a constant worry about having enough." 

You listen intently, feeling privileged to hear these pieces of himself that he rarely shares with others.

"But there was something real about it all," he continues. "When you have so little, you appreciate everything more intensely. A warm meal. A new pencil. The first sunny day after weeks of rain."

"That's why this matters so much to you, isn't it?" you ask, lifting your head slightly to look at him. 

Steve's eyes meet yours, clear and focused. "I've seen what happens when people lose hope. We lost so much hope after the Snap, and some things are better since we brought everyone back, but the new chaos and unrest has cast its own shadows." His hand finds yours, fingers intertwining. "The Depression, the War—they taught me that systems matter, that leadership matters. That the decisions made in far-off offices change lives on streets like the one I grew up on. I wanted things to work out without me because I’m just an Avenger, but Pepper persuaded me we needed to try for a president who isn’t a politician."

You settle back against his chest, feeling it rise and fall with each breath. “She’s masterfully persuasive. She convinced me to marry a stranger.”

He laughs and his arm tightens around you. “Well, that seems to be a pretty good call so far, so maybe this other thing will work out, too.”

You smile against his chest, and you’re both quiet for a moment. 

"Tell me more about Brooklyn," you prompt gently. "About your home." 

You continue talking softly together until you both fall asleep, though you’re not sure if it is you or him who drops off first. 

[OCTOBER 20 - EVENING - HARRISBURG, PENNSYLVANIA]

You are alone when you wake up. 

You sit up quickly, slightly disoriented. The light in private quarters of the campaign bus are dim, but you can see through the window that night has fallen. The bus is no longer moving.

You swing your legs over the edge of the bunk and gather the shoes you had discarded earlier, slipping them back on your feet. You move to the tiny bathroom, and grimace slightly when you take in your appearance. It’s not bad, but it’s definitely nap-rumpled. 

Someone must have heard you bustling around, because there’s a soft knock on the door that you recognize. 

“Come in,” you call out, and you see Sophia open the door over your shoulder in the reflection of the mirror. 

"Hey, sleepyhead," she says. "We're in Harrisburg."

"How long since we arrived?"

"Maybe an hour,” she answers. “There were press interviews before the event tonight, so the rest of the campaign went on ahead, and we’ll catch up. Steve insisted we let you rest.”

You roll your eyes and laugh. “Of course he did. Did he at least sleep for more than five minutes?”

“He said to report to you that he promises he slept for at least an hour,” Sam says, appearing behind Sophia. 

You repress a Cheshire grin as you deduce that Sam elected to stay back to wait on you with Sophia. But you only just manage it. 

"And did he?" you ask, raising an eyebrow. 

"Did he what?" Sam asks, a smile playing at his lips. 

"Sleep for an hour," you clarify, reaching for a brush to tame your hair. 

Sam and Sophia exchange a knowing look. "Let's just say Bucky confirmed he was out for at least ninety minutes, which might be a campaign record," Sophia says.

You nod, satisfied, and start to brush out your hair, assessing what needs to be done to make yourself presentable again. Surprisingly your blouse isn’t hopelessly wrinkled from being slept in, but your blazer hasn't fared well. Why didn’t you think to take that off before slipping onto the cot?

Probably because slipping one thing off might have been too tempting for both of you to slip off more clothing…

"Here, let me help," Sophia says, noticing your predicament. She rummages in one of the cupboards built into the wall of the bus, pushing aside emergency supplies and campaign materials. "Aha!" she exclaims, pulling out the travel steamer. 

"Always a lifesaver," you tell her, gratefully shrugging out of your blazer and handing it over.

As Sophia gets to work on your blazer, you quickly freshen up your makeup and fix your hair. There's a comfortable rhythm to it, a routine that's become familiar over these past months on the trail. The three of you move around the confined space with practiced ease, Sam stepping out to take a call while you and Sophia discuss the evening ahead.

You’re Future-First-Lady presentable in next to no time, and then you, Sophia, and Sam get off the boss and hop into a waiting SUV. 

Once you’re buckled in, Sam hands you a sandwich and a bag of chips. “Saved you something to eat. You slept through dinner."

Your stomach growls on cue, and you laugh. "I guess I did."

Sophia passes you a bottle of water and a bib as well. You don’t question it, learning early on you can only safely eat slowly or with a bib on the campaign trail, otherwise it’s almost guaranteed there will be some kind of spill. Better safe than sorry. 

You take a grateful bite of the sandwich, realizing just how hungry you are. The SUV glides through the darkened streets of Harrisburg, the city lights sliding across the windows as you make your way toward the venue for tonight's town hall. There are Secret Service SUVs escorting both in front and behind your vehicle. 

"How far is the venue?" you ask between bites. 

"About fifteen minutes," Sophia replies, her eyes fixed on her tablet as she scrolls through the latest updates. "Traffic's light." 

The driver has the radio on, and one of the familiar voices of NPR's news coverage fills the car: "—continuing coverage of the breaking news regarding the fabricated photographs of Steve Rogers' wife. CNN reported earlier today that former Secretary of State Thaddeus Ross has been implicated in creating and distributing AI-generated images purporting to show Mrs. Rogers at a Planned Parenthood facility for an abortion procedure. Ross evidently financed the operation and gave the photos to CSFAT, who then gave them to Fox News last week.”

You frown, and you know you’re not the only one, but no one seems inclined to change the station either, everyone too interested in hearing what they’ll say next. 

“In a speech he gave at a rally in Pittsburg earlier today, Steve Rogers called for Americans to seek out truth, committing to always deal in truth, even when truths are difficult to share. Meanwhile, this afternoon, the message coming out of the Democratic camp has been increasingly strident. At a press conference in Detroit, Senator Jason Monroe, the Democratic nominee, made his own statement.”

The audio cuts directly to a clip of Monroe. 

"This kind of technological deception represents a new low in American politics," Monroe declares. "I call on my Republican opponent to immediately and unequivocally denounce Thaddeus Ross and the Coalition for Strengthening the Families of America Today. Their creation and distribution of AI-generated photographs is not merely dirty politics—it's an attack on our electoral process itself."

You grimace as the radio continues broadcasting Monroe's remarks, but continue to listen with Sophia, Sam, and your driver as you eat your sandwich.

You know Peterson can’t denounce CSFAT without hemoraging “family values” voters, even if they don’t lean as extreme as CSFAT does. 

"The American people deserve to know whether the Republican Party condones these tactics," Monroe continues, his voice sharp with practiced outrage. "And whether Governor Peterson was aware of or involved in this deception. Until we have clear answers, I believe this casts a shadow over the entire Republican campaign." 

You exchange glances with Sam and Sophia. Monroe is doing exactly what Jake and the rest of your campaign team had expected - trying to turn this revelation into a broader attack on Steve's running mate and the Republican Party as a whole.

"That's rich," Sam mutters, shaking his head. "Like Monroe's Super PACs haven't been running misleading ads for months." 

Monroe's voice continues from the radio. "I'm calling for a joint statement from all candidates condemning the use of deepfakes and AI manipulation in political campaigns. This isn't about politics anymore. It's about preserving the integrity of our democracy."

Sophia scoffs. “Of course, he wants to call for a joint statement. If he can organize it, it looks like a win for him.”

“Peterson won’t do it, he’ll say Monroe’s just trying to score points of his own for proposing and organizing the statement,” Sam says. 

“And all Steve has to do is say a joint statement isn’t needed when that’s what Americans should expect from any presidential candidate,” you add. 

“Exactly,” Sophia pumps her fist in the air. 

The NPR host returns: "We should note that there is currently no evidence suggesting Governor Peterson or the official Republican campaign had any knowledge of or involvement in the creation of these images. The Justice Department has opened an investigation, and Ross has not yet commented publicly on the allegations."

"Can we turn it off for now?” you ask the driver. 

“Absolutely, Mrs. Rogers,” he responds, switching the radio off. 

You turn to Sophia. “I know we’re concerned about the seven major swing states that can go red or blue a the tip of a hat, but with this fighting for the sake of capitalizing on a political fight, can we expand to states that were in that sixty-percent majority range?”

“Snag the people who might be ready to be independents but have kept with their party because there’s only been the two major parties for so long,” Sophia concurs. “I think Jake will still want to keep Steve in the seven swing as much as possible, but he’d see the wisdom in moving you into more of that next circle and be up for adjusting the schedule.”

Your heart aches for a moment. Early in the campaign, you and Steve frequently campaigned together and separately, but more and more since September, you’ve stuck together, and you’ve wanted to. When you were congenial members of a campaign team who happened to be married for the political positioning, it hadn’t mattered. 

But now the idea of campaigning separately from Steve, even for a few days, twists something in your chest. Your feelings for him have evolved with startling speed from reluctant respect to genuine affection to something much deeper—something you're still getting used to naming, even in your own mind.

"I think that's a great strategy," you say, pushing past the flutter of emotion. "Especially if we target suburban areas where voters might be feeling torn between party loyalty and policy preferences." 

Sam gives you a knowing look that you choose to ignore, focusing instead on finishing your sandwich as the lights of downtown Harrisburg grow brighter through the windows. The SUV slows as it approaches the historic Forum Auditorium, its classical columns illuminated against the night sky. 

"How many people tonight?" you ask. 

"About fifteen hundred," Sophia answers, checking her tablet. "Town hall format. Prescreened questions until the end, Charlie and Zoey Young are already there, and you and Zoey will join Steve and Charlie on stage with the candidates fielding the questions.” 

"Town halls are his strongest format," Sam adds with a smile. "People connect with him even more when he's answering their questions directly."

You nod, brushing crumbs from your lap and carefully removing the bib. There's something comforting about the routine of it all, the seamless transition from one event to the next, each with its own rhythm and demands. 

"And what's the mood?" you ask, knowing Sophia will have already checked in with the advance team. 

"Energized but not rowdy," she replies. "Local issues are dominating—healthcare access in rural areas, the opioid crisis, infrastructure. The Ross story is buzzing, but it's not overshadowing everything." 

"Good," you say with a nod. "That's what we want." 

The SUV pulls up to the rear entrance of the auditorium, where security personnel immediately surround the vehicle. The familiar choreography unfolds—doors opening, earpieces murmuring, a path clearing through the hustle and bustle.

The backstage area of the Forum buzzes with the controlled chaos that defines campaign events—staffers with headsets, local officials waiting for their moment, journalists hovering at the edges of secured areas. You spot Jake immediately, his tall figure bent over a tablet as he confers with Lisa and Elspeth.

And then you see Steve.

He's standing at the edge of the stage, peering out through the curtain at the gathering crowd, his back to you. 

Even from this distance, you can read the subtle tension in his shoulders, the way he holds himself with that perfect posture that never quite relaxes. He's wearing the navy suit you picked out together a few weeks ago, the one that brings out the blue in his eyes.

Bucky stands beside him, saying something that makes Steve laugh—a genuine laugh that transforms his face, erasing the campaign weariness for just a moment. The sight makes your heart skip, and you find yourself smiling automatically. 

Steve turns, sensing your presence with that uncanny awareness he always seems to have. His eyes find yours across the busy backstage area, and his face softens, lighting up with a warmth that still catches you off guard sometimes. You make your way toward him swiftly, navigating through the crowd with practiced grace.

"You're here," he says when you reach him, his voice warm. 

"Exactly where I'm supposed to be," you reply, reaching up to straighten his already-perfect tie, just for the excuse to touch him.

Steve's hand finds yours, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in that gentle way that has become so familiar. And even though you’ll have the rest of the evening together, you’re already missing him, certain that you’ll be getting off to separate cities tomorrow. 

Lurking in the darkest corners of your mind is an even bigger concern that you’ve been ignoring as much as you possibly can…

Steve has been gaining momentum - it’s been compounding since day one - but he’s still an independent presidential candidate in a system that’s been voting between two parties for over two hundred years. Everyone on your team, thousands of volunteers and supporters across the country, you’re all fighting tooth and nail and working towards victory. 

But what happens if the very realistic possibility is realized and he doesn’t win? 

next part: Boston & New York

I apologize for another long wait for this one. (haha, don't worry, I KNOW anyone who made it to here isn't going to hate me for the length!)

...and even though it was long, the only pieces I could have taken out were their married moments, and I just genuinely didn't want to, so I hoped all of you enjoyed getting to just spend some soft time with them. I could've cut down what we saw of Steve's speech, too, but I didn't want that, either. 🥹 I love potentially-President Steve. Therapeutic for me, and I love getting to let him show his leadership and desire to do good in a different way than his superhero work.

↠ Main Masterlist | Aspen's Ask Box | Field Guide to the Forest

I do not do tag lists, but FOLLOW @buckets-and-stories and TURN ON NOTIFICATIONS to be updated any time I publish a new work!

[anki-of-beleriand]

A Heart Made of Glass ch.16

Summary: Ten years ago you left Wanda and the Avengers to heal your broken heart. You never stopped being a hero, just as you never stopped being in love with her. But life had to go on.

Now, after all that time, she is back and with her is a young woman needing help and an enemy that may not be as afraid as Wanda to lay a claim on you.

Pairings: Wanda Maximoff x Powered!F!Reader - Scarlet Witch x PoweredF!Reader - Past Wanda Maximoff x Vision - CarolxF!Reader

Warnings: Angst, drama, mentions of cheating, fluff, violence, smut, Switch!Reader, internalize homophobia, hurt, comfort, Wanda being a complete mess, anger management issues, jealousy, Requited/Unrequited love, idiots in love, swearing, mentions of alcohol. More tags as the story progess.

Author's Note: This story is a continuation of Dirty Little Secret I was really surprised at the response I got for the story, I did all the tags you guys ask for but if I forgot someone please do not hesitate to tell me. Thank you for the support.

The end is near, Reader and Wanda finally had some common ground to work with and now the only thing left is a happily ever after.

Please, do remember English is no my mother tongue so forgive my grammar, spelling and funny mistakes.

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Chapter 9 - Chapter 10 - Chapter 11 Chapter 12 - Chapter 13 - Chapter 14 - Chapter 15 - Chapter 16 - Chapter 17 - Epilogue

Chapter 16

A leap of Faith, a simple request

The first meeting in Nepal would be the first meeting of a series of visits Y/N did for over four months.

Wanda had been confused at first, though she found herself pleasantly surprised to find you in her lodge every morning sharing a good story or a training session. Sometimes, the both of you would reach the closest camp in which you would see many alpinists and hikers, all of them getting ready for a summit on Mount Everest or K2. Wanda didn’t dare to press over the sudden relationship she had been building with you, she was happy to receive your words and your caress, to see your smile or feel your lips on hers whenever the mood struck.

Every weekend had become a highly expected moment in her life, Wanda prepared everything to welcome you while also trying to get the courage to have a serious conversation with you. Would you finally stay more than a couple of days? Would you want to stay with her? What exactly was happening between the both of you?

There were many questions that still haunted Wanda, but she had not dare to voice them in fear of breaking the relationship she had with you. So, she opted to keep quiet while enjoying the moments the both of you shared until she was ready to face the reality of her emotions and give the last step towards you.

For more than four months you two had been sharing a relationship through the distance, and Wanda knew she had sworn to fight for you and not let go, and whatever fears or insecurities that had built in her should be put aside in favour of that leap of faith. Wanda had been nervous, but she arranged everything to be ready for your visit and, this time around Wanda was ready to ask you to stay or take her with you.

But, just as she got ready to clear things up within the both of you, just as she got ready to leave herself expose and at your mercy…you didn’t show up.

At first she thought it was normal, your life was still happening right in the outside world and you had been quite busy at your work back in Norway while also with your mission as hero. Wanda checked her phone and her email, but you didn’t send a message and after two days of waiting for you she knew you wouldn’t come that weekend.

Disappointment came rushing inside her mind, she waited for an explanation but nothing came and soon her disappointment transformed in sadness and the old doubts and fears drown her thoughts until she just tried to focus on her routine waiting for you to come the next weekend with an explanation.

The explanation never came and you didn’t show on that weekend.

And then, you didn’t show the next one, or the one after that.

Wanda tried to rationalize the situation, she tried to convince herself that you were busy or perhaps in a highly secretive mission but so far she had not received any news or any big going on in the outside world. It was as if you had vanished, and with you, any form of contacting you. Your phone didn’t work, and there was no way for her to get into contact with Natasha; for a moment Wanda thought about America but then she thought herself desperate and while she was dying to know what happened to you, a little voice inside her head told her perhaps, you grew bored of her and decided to simply not continue her visits any more.

As easily as you had begun this routine, you had decided to cut it over.

This was just a single thought of the many that came rushing inside her mind day after day, Wanda found herself busying herself with different activities inside the compound, she gave herself to the training and to the distractions while finding odd jobs in the temple and the small towns surrounding Kamar-Taj.

It worked, for a little while.

But there was nothing much one would do to quiet down the doubts and growing anxiety inside the heart. Wanda wanted to be angry at you, she wanted to be furious at your sudden dismissal of her, at your silence and sudden disappearance; but she couldn’t. Instead of that, she was just sad, and found herself trying to ignore her emotions while trying to get control of her life.

For over a month, Wanda tried to forget about you.

And while Winter was approaching, and she stood at the edge of a cliff overseen the beautiful landscape surrounding the Himalayas she tried to get a hold of her thoughts and her emotions. Tears rolled down her cheeks, but not a single thought came through her mind, the only thing she could do was feel and that was enough for the time being.

Wanda sensed the approaching presence of someone powerful, she didn’t need to pounder too much to know who was coming her way. With a quick gesture, she tried to wipe away the tears on her cheeks.

“You are quite difficult to locate when you decided to hide away, aren’t you, Wanda?”

Wanda tensed turning to the left, her green eyes gleaming with unshed tears furrowing her brows. Stephen was dressed in his fighting attire, he looked tired and a little dishevelled but otherwise untouched; the older man waved away the unasked question.

“Rough night, nothing important but I mess up and ended up with a house falling on top of me.” He offered a sheepish smile; Wanda raised a brow pressing her lips to hold back her smile.

“Right, what brings you here, Stephen?” Wanda finally asked tilting her head to focus her stare to the mountains. “I was trying to get some alone time, and I just…I don’t think I am a good company at the moment.”

Stephen nodded understanding the hint but ignoring it altogether, Wanda rolled her eyes not wanting to have any type of conversation with anyone. She scoffed when the man stood beside her, his hand reaching inside his pocket producing a single envelope. Wanda frowned tilting her head to the man who was trying really hard to keep his expression neutral.

“I understand, but I think I come here with news and perhaps to alleviate the turmoil you had been experimenting as of late.” The knowing glance he shot Wanda told the young with Stephen knew about her recent heartbreak.

She crossed her arms rolling her eyes while also getting a spark of curiosity, she squinted her eyes when Stephen waved away a single envelope, this time around he lost his smile and was showing a more serious façade.

“My mission took me to Florence, it was a last minute request by Stark and I decided to do so if only to shut the man up.” Stephen said talking a step closer to Wanda. “I met with some people there, and I was told to give you this.”

Now, Stephen had Wanda’s full attention, she grabbed the letter scrunching up her nose turning it around until her eyes fell on the familiar handwriting.

“This is…” Wanda trailed off, her frown deepening while the anger she had ignored up until then came back and she closed it almost throwing it away.

“She was hurt during a mission.” Stephen said before Wanda could speak or do something else, “It was supposed to be a routine safe and rescue mission but they found some troubles, she tried to play the hero role and got badly hurt.”

“She got hurt…” Wanda opened the letter missing the sympathetic glance Stephen sent her way.

“Nobody knew about her visits to you, Wanda.” Strange explained, “They found out as soon as she woke up and started asking for you, I think that may explain her absence as of late.”

“Hn, I didn’t even notice.” Wanda mumbled reading the letter you had tried to write to her, Stephen hid his snort behind a cough.

“Right, so you haven’t been mopping around and…”

“I wasn’t mopping!” Wanda exclaimed, her magic igniting in her hands while her cheeks coloured red. “I just…I was…I…”

“I know.” Stephen said nodding to the letter, “Tony sent a jet for you, it will be there until tomorrow morning, a car is waiting for you as well. Don’t be late.”

Wanda watched as Stephen turned around walking away, she played with her lips before calling out to the older man.

“Are you…I mean, late I’ve been…” Wanda sighed frustrated turning to Stephen. “I’m still trying to find myself, to do right and to get a hold of my emotions, are you sure I should go?”

“Wanda, you have been mopping around because you missed her,” Stephen cocked his head to the side, his eyes finding those of Wanda, “take the word of a man that lost everything for not being brave enough, Wanda, go after her and keep fighting for what you want, talk to her and don’t let any misunderstanding or lack of communication get in the way.”

With those last words, Stephen turned around and left.

Wanda stood there feeling the cold wind hitting her face, she grabbed the letter and went back to the words you had written for her. The explanations and the invitation to go to you, to stand beside you, to be a part of your life.

Wanda wrapped her arms around herself, she lowered her gaze and in a single moment of decision she went back to her cabin to get her things.

It was about time she stopped running from the things she wanted and start running after them.

The Amerigo Vespucci Airport was the second busiest airport in the Tuscany, located in the city of Florence it stood as a welcoming bacon to international travellers into a city that breath Renaissance, culture and history. The private section of the airport was a safe heaven for those who wanted to go incognito to the city, and Wanda soon found herself being attended as the jet landed in the city.

She glanced around while the customs and border protection agent came forth to speak with the pilot. She grabbed her backpack tightly, her eyes glancing around the place before they fell on a dark car waiting silently at the other end of the hangar. The officer spoke in broken English pointing at her then at the passport before nodding and giving back the document.

“It seems we are cleared, ma’am, the driver will take you to the agreed location.” The pilot said giving her the papers back before pointing to the car.

“Thank you.” Wanda offered a nervous smile before making her way to the car, once inside the driver merely gave a warm welcome before driving down the empty streets of the airport to the closest entrance.

Once they left the airport Wanda could enjoy the magnificent look that the city was offering her. She could see the Tuscan Cypress decorating the highway while the people drove without a care in the world. This kind of scenes always brought memories to Wanda, she couldn’t help but remembered being on the run without a chance of enjoying the places they visited or having a chance to actually have friends, go out, have a nice dinner.

Her world had been changing so much, she sometimes forgot there was another world right outside waiting to be discovered. Wanda smiled observing the busy streets with people coming in and out of work, the students enjoying the afternoon sun while running or walking around not a single tourist was on sight which told Wanda this was a part of the city reserved for the Italians living in the city.

She wondered if you were aware of her visit, if perhaps you had planned all of this just to get her out of the coldness that was Nepal into the warm that was the region of Tuscany at the moment. But so far she had not received a single call, and no body had come for her to the airport. She played with the idea of calling Tony but decided against it, if the man wanted to contact her he would have done so as soon as she entered the plane; a part of Wanda knew why they had kept silence, they were waiting to see how the story would end.

Wanda couldn’t blame them, she was also waiting patiently to see how her story with you would end.

Soon they left the busy streets to enter a more residential section of the city, Wanda watched as they went up the terrain with less people walking around and many houses protected by high fences and beautiful trees. She felt her heartbeat that tad bit faster, her hand sweating lightly while the tingles in her lower abdomen intensified.

The car turned around a corner and soon she found herself watching full properties, all guarded by wooden gates and walls protecting their inhabitants. She wondered just what kind of place where you located at, when the man turned one last time going up a hill until he reached a gate standing tall protected by a stoned arch and cypress sneaking out of a stoned wall. The man lowered the window while showing an ID to the gate’s security system, soon there was a small bell and the doors opened right in front of them.

Wanda could hardly wait to see you, she was glancing out of the window while playing with the words inside her head. The car stopped at the main gate, and Wanda couldn’t help but gasp.

“Wanda!” America came running wrapping her arms around the young woman who couldn’t help the shock from showing on her face.

“America?” Wanda returned the hug, stepping aside America gave her a weak smile.

“I missed you, you know?”

“I missed you too.” Wanda shrugged lightly, “I’m sorry I just…”

“I know, Y/N told me some things so…I get it.” America bounced on her feet running to where the bags were left. “But now, you’re here so I can forgive you for that.”

Wanda chuckled grabbing one of her bags and going with America inside the house.

The place was enormous, with two living rooms and a single dining room leading to the backyard and the pool Wanda could understand why they chose such location. America was talking non-stop, she told Wanda about school and the life in Norway; for Natasha and Yelena had been important that America learnt the basics while also learnt about her powers so whenever they had any easy mission America went with them.

“But this one, well it went out of control and…”

“Where is she?” Wanda finally asked when they reached the second floor.

America winced tilting her head, “she is asleep, pain medicine really takes a toll out of her.”

Wanda furrowed her brows; she glanced around trying to guess which one was your room but her eyes found those of America who was shooting her a sympathetic smile.

“Don’t worry, she will be up in no time.”

“I just…” Wanda brushed some hairs out of her face, “I just found out, after a month of not having any new from her I just…”

America pressed her lips together, after a moment of hesitation she pointed to the left to a long corridor leading to a single wooden door. Wanda hesitated for a moment but before she could move America placed a hand on her arm, her eyes twinkled strangely while she put on her best serious face.

“I’m glad to see you here, Wands, and I know you and Y/N had been seeing one another for some time,” Wanda could tell that in the last couple of months America had changed, no longer was she looking tired or scared, if anything she was looking more mature and relaxed, responsible as she grabbed the bags and stepped back.

“I really want for you guys to be happy, perhaps this could be your chance, you know?”

Wanda smiled nodding, “I know.”

“Good then, go before Natasha and Yelena get here, they get really overprotective of Y/N when she is in that state.” America turned around leaving Wanda alone.

With a sigh and wiggling hands, Wanda made her way to your room.

The place was covered in different shades of blue, the balcony faced the pool and the backyard, and the fresh wind of the afternoon was sneaking inside the room mixing the smell of flowers and nature inside your room. Wanda softened her features when her eyes fell on your sleeping form.

You were on your side, deeply asleep with your hand right above your face and one leg placed carefully on a pillow. It was protected by a cast, and your face and head were covered with bandages. You really were hurt, and soon Wanda realized all around the room there were medical implements to help out during the healing process.

With a knot on her throat, Wanda approached your bed her trembling fingers caressing your cheek while the tears blurred her vision for a moment. All this time, she should have looked for you, perhaps insist to try and see what happened instead of letting her own insecurities and her own fears to cloud her judgement.

“What took you so long?” Wanda almost fell down from the bed when you spoke, you offered a lazy smile your eyes fluttering opened.

“Y/N!”

“Wanda!” Your voice was hoarse, wincing as you turn on your back.

“You were awake?” Wanda asked with reproach in her voice.

You tried to sit down, it was taking some effort until Wanda came right in to help you out. Her arms wrapped around you, and she was close enough to feel your warmness against hers. You offered a smile shrugging.

“I was just resting not sleeping, thank you.” You rested your back on the wall, taking a good look at Wanda who decided to sit on the bed.

“You…” Wanda started finding the words strangled in her throat and her eyes filling up with tears.

“Hey, I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you about this.” You started grabbing her hand in yours, your thumb drawing circles on the back of her hand.

“It’s okay, I…” Wanda trailed off, she didn’t want to sound foolish by telling you the million questions that came to her mind.

She was not ready to share with you her inadequacy and her self-doubt. You nodded lightly, softening your features while squeezing her hand tenderly.

“I should have said something, but I just…I wanted you for myself.” You said softly, trying to clear your throat.

Wanda leaned to the closest bedside table where a single glass of water was resting, you took the glass grateful before continuing.

“I didn’t want anyone saying anything at all, I just…”

“I get it, I know what you mean…” Wanda hesitated before lifting her hand to brush away some strands of hair, she leaned in her lips parting slightly. “Y/N…”

You lifted your hand cupping her cheek in your palm, leaning in closing the distance by brushing your lips against hers. The kiss was soft, a simple gesture of reassurance for you and her, it last but a few seconds but it was enough to leave Wanda trembling and you with a racing heart.

“I missed you, Little Witch.” You mumbled pecking her lips, Wanda smiled nuzzling her face on your neck.

“I missed you too.”

Wanda leaned back, glancing out of the window before returning her eyes to you.

“I thought you didn’t want to continue with your visits.” She finally revealed looking away from you. “I thought I messed it up all over again, and I just…Y/N, what are we doing? What does it mean this? I just…”

You could see the conflicting emotions in her green eyes, how confused she was about what had happened in the last couple of months in which, once more, your relationship with her had shifted. You made yourself that questions moments before the mission, you had been standing by Yelena’s side when you realized how deeply in love you were with Wanda, how your feelings for her were the same they had shifted and they had matured and at the moment they were more intense.

You weren’t the only one thinking that, or even experimenting it. Seeing the anguish in Wanda’s face told you she was just as deeply sensitive with the whole situation as you were.

“Walk with me?” You asked tenderly, Wanda furrowed her brows before nodding.

“Yes, sure I…” She stood up watching as you signalled the far wall where a single crutch was resting.

“You need help? I mean there is only one.”

“Yeah, I didn’t break the leg per se, but I did some serious damage to the muscle and the joint, so walking is difficult.” You explained standing up with her help and that of the crutch.

“So, you are at my mercy?” Wanda asked wiggling her brows, you raised a single eyebrow shooting a daring glance.

“You want to try that theory out?” The blush that form on Wanda’s face was beyond adorable and you couldn’t help but laugh. “Good, perhaps later we could see if I am or not at your mercy.”

“I know that I am at yours.” Wanda finally said walking past you and opening the door for you to come out of the room.

Your heart jumped happily, your smile growing at the sight of Wanda there with you once more. With a chuckled you limped engaging Wanda in a conversation about the mission that had left you out of commission for a while.

__________________

“When did she get here?” Yelena glanced out of the window of the kitchen, she squinted her eyes following you and Wanda as the both of you strolled through the yard.

“Uhm, around three?” America put the spoon on the gelato Yelena brought for her, “I think so, she came here in one of Tony’s cars.”

“Of course it was Stark.” Yelena huffed turning around, she lifted a hand pointing an accusing finger at America, “and you let her in!”

America rolled her eyes, she knew Yelena tended to be highly protective of Y/N but as of late her arguments against Wanda had worn thin and she was just trying to get a hold of what was really happening and how everything would end, Much like everyone in the life of Y/N and Wanda.

“Please, you and I both know they have been seeing one another for more than two months, nobody thought of telling Wanda about the mission and she was really affected by this.” America rested her cheek on her hand, her eyes on Yelena.

“What?” Yelena grabbed her own gelato shaking her head.

“Do you think they will go back to being together?”

Yelena leaned back against the counter, she thought about the things that had happened in the past. She had been there, and she had heard the story and the wounds, but after they learnt the full story and went through so much, forgiveness was not a crazy thought. You had been so happy as of late, singing and laughing, being a different kind of person and Yelena knew she owed it to Wanda coming back and wanting to be a part of your life.

“I think it is a possibility, but this time around if something were to go wrong…” Yelena left in the air the possibility of negative consequences, America tilted her head thoughtful.

“I think this time around could be different, and I think that’s the reason why they had been dancing around one another, you know?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, it’s just that if this time around everything goes well, they have seen how their lives could turn out to be. The twins, and the house and the married life, everything would be possible and happiness would be there.” America shrugged, “I just thing sometimes we are more open to the negative outcome instead of the positive one because we are afraid of getting hurt or getting lost in the feeling.”

“You don’t have a right to sound so wise,” Yelena scoffed shaking her head, America smirked.

“I learnt from the best.”

“Oh, thank you…”

“I mean, Natasha…”

“Brat.” Yelena threw a paper towel that America grabbed in the air, she was about to throw it again when a heavy hand rested on her shoulder.

“Children, please.” Natasha gave her sister a glance before turning to America, “what are you two discussing about?”

“Y/N and Wanda.”

Natasha lifted a brow, her eyes following the stare of Yelena until she found Wanda and Y/N standing in the far corner of the yard.

“When did Wanda get here?”

“This afternoon.” America explained, Natasha softened her features as she watched your smile and the easy conversation growing between the both of you.

“I guess that’s good, right?” Natasha ruffled America’s hair winking at Yelena who chuckled at the gesture.

“I guess, what do you think?” Yelena gauged Natasha’s face, she was waiting for a signal that revealed the real thoughts of Natasha but the woman was a tomb.

“I think we need to make more food, and you two have a mission tomorrow so no staying up late watching silly movies.”

“You know I am a highly functional adult and that I can go to bed whenever I want?”

“I think you are an adult, but the functional part is up for debate.” Natasha replied chuckling at the offended expression in Yelena’s face.

America laughed ignoring the mocking glare from Yelena.

“I am a trained assassin, you know, I can…”

“I’m just going to say two words,” America smirked in triumph lifting her hand and lifting a finger when she said those two words, “Kate Bishop.”

Yelena opened her mouth and then closed it again, her cheeks coloured red with her hands wiggling to try and make a point that was lost when Natasha came closer to her to close her mouth by putting two fingers under her chin.

“She got you there, sis.”

America laughed standing up before running away from the kitchen, Yelena screaming in Russian while going after her. Natasha shook her head taking a sip from the glass of juice she just poured for her. The day was getting old, the sun was already gone and the sky was changing into a darker version of blue, yet even with the drop of temperature and the sudden changed you and Wanda were still outside.

Natasha sighed.

Peace was so odd at times, but it was for moments like this that she lived for. With a final glance she turned around and went the living room her voice reaching out the two kids that were laughing and screaming on the second floor.

“America! Yelena! You have to prepare dinner!!”

You welcome the change in atmosphere from the confines of your room.

In the last couple of days, Natasha had done nothing more than babying you under the medical recommendations. It had been a necessary evil considering you were out of commission for over two weeks. Wanda listened carefully to your story, with each word her heart shrank making the very fibre of her emotions trembled under the possibility of you not surviving such an incident.

“It was really confusing at first, I woke up with everything hurting and in a hospital with Natasha and Yelena all over me,” you stopped walking turning to Wanda, your hand seeking out hers feeling the softness of her palm against yours, “I remembered right away that you probably were asking where I was and why I haven’t called at all.”

Wanda stiffened her eyes drifting away though her hand tightened lightly around yours.

“I just thought you would be busy, I knew you have your job and the occasional missions.” Wanda tried to downplay the turmoil she went through when you didn’t show on that first weekend, then the second one, and then the third one.

She was not ready to admit to you that she had been lost, and that the old insecurities came back to push her to the edge of feeling alone and not enough. You tilted your head taking a closer look to the young woman standing in front of you, observing how her lips tensed and her eyes refused to look at you directly; the way she kept a hold of your hand and the sudden softening of her voice told you all you needed to know at the moment.

“You know I would never walk away from you without telling you first, Wands.” You winced moving from one foot to the crutch on your right hand. “I never told anyone I was going over to Nepal to visit you because I didn’t want them snooping around in my things, I wanted this to be ours.”

There afternoon sun was fading away slowly, and the wind of the Tuscany region enveloped both of you in a warm embrace. Wanda lifted her free hand only to let it fall again, her eyes flickering to your face then to your lips and finally to your joined hands.

“I know.” She finally stated though her voice trembled, lacking the conviction your were looking for.

“Are you still doubting what is happening here, Wands?” You asked stepping a little closer, Wanda offered a weak smile shrugging.

“What is happening, Y/N? I’m still…You have come and go for over five months, and we have talked and we have shared amazing moments and still I am not sure as to where I stand eith you.” Wanda didn’t want to be so honest all of a sudden, she wasn’t looking to actually be honest and broke with such a tirade but the trip and the lack of sleep coupled with her worries about her own situation brought this over.

Your eyes dropped alongside your smile, your hand never let go of that of Wanda but you did tried to take a step closer. Wanda didn’t fight, instead she also came closer trying to get a hold of you to see if the questions she had would be answered.

“I thought everything had been clear, but I guess we never did talk about it clearly, did we?”

“Not really.” Wanda mumbled lifting her hand towards her hair, “I’m sorry I shouldn’t bring this over and…”

Wanda trailed off completely, her body stiffening when you leaned forward placing a peck at the corner of her lips. She could feel the heavy stare of someone watching them from the house, while you came at her without any shame or hesitation.

“I think I told you before, the same way you have told me, Wands. I don’t want this to be over without at least giving it a try.” You squeezed her hand offering a half smile, “I guess I wasn’t clear enough so, let me set the record straight and ensure there are no more doubts in you.”

Wanda opened her mouth to ask what exactly you mean by that, but at that moment the both of you heard Natasha calling out to you.

“Y/N!! Your medication! Now!”

You winced turning to see Natasha standing by the threshold, her hands on her hips and a knowing glare shot your way. Under that stare you understood Natasha had a second intention for the call out, you snorted turning to Wanda who had a glint of disappointment in her green eyes, you chuckled winking at her.

“Don’t worry, Little Witch, tomorrow we will have the house for ourselves and we can continue with this conversation.” You then nodded towards the house, “now let’s go, I really am feeling the pain kicking in and perhaps taking the medication won’t be as bad with you at my side.”

Wanda offered a half smile, her helped you out before taking a deep breath and speaking closer to your ear.

“You want me to play nurse?”

You almost fell down on your face, turning to the mischievous smirk she was now wearing. You chuckled nodding.

“I would like that very much, Little Witch, but Nats would probably kill you if we get sidetracked.”

Wanda snorted though whatever tension she had worn moments ago soon dissipated; she opened her mouth then closed again until she just shrugged turning to you.

“Well, we always have tomorrow, right? You did say we will have the house all for ourselves.”

Now, that comment hit you straight in your mind and core, and you couldn’t help but laugh while trying to cover up your flustered cheeks. Wanda sighed in relief, her doubts quieted down by your reassurance and the welcoming committee she had from your part, seeing you again had made her happy and Wanda soon realized there was no place on earth she would rather be as long as she was by your side.

Wanda just needed to let her last doubts aside to take a leap of faith and confessed this to you. There was nothing more she wanted that be yours for as long as you wanted her, and for you to be hers for as long as you allowed her to have you.

______________

You limped around the kitchen grabbing cups and bowls from the cabinets placing them carefully on the counter.

The music coming from your phone filled the silence in the kitchen, coffee was the very first thing you always prepared before anything else and the strong smell of the coffee was soon filling out the room. You limped to the fridge glancing around until you found the milk and the orange juice, putting them out you went to grab some of the strawberries almost falling on your face.

“You really love putting yourself in harm’s way, don’t you?” You chuckled feeling the arm around your waist making sure you were not hitting the floor, Wanda was smiling down at you helping you up on your feet.

“What can I say? I was just waiting for a cute hero to come and rescue me?” Wanda rolled her eyes but never lost her smile you grabbed the strawberries and then close the door.

“What were you doing?” Wanda finally asked looking around the kitchen then at you.

“Breakfast?” You tried limping towards the coffee maker, “I just thought I will make breakfast and then we can go into the city.”

Wanda tapped on the counter playfully, her smile just growing with her eyes following your every move.

“The city? You have plans for today?” Wanda leaned forward excitedly; you lifted your face blinking confusedly at Wanda.

“We have plans, Wands. You and Me.” You replied as if it was the most obvious thing in the world, Wanda tilted her head with her heart missing a beat at the sight of your grin.

“I…let me help you, I think it would be faster.” Wanda winked at you going to help with the fruit and the cereal.

You watched her out of the corner of your eyes, a shiver of pure pleasure and contentment went through your body and settled on your lower abdomen your heart twisting painfully your chest. You knew the moment you made the decision to go after Wanda that everything could turn out with the both of you, love had always been there but sometimes people needed more than love to build up a relationship.

The last couple of months you and Wanda had done just that, build a relationship that went beyond the initial passion and juvenile love you felt for one another. You chuckled when she put the bowl filled with cereal, milk and strawberries right in front of you before putting a chair closer so you could accommodate.

“I was supposed to be working on this and served you breakfast, you know?” You were about to stand up and go for your coffee but Wanda winked at you placing a mug filled with coffee.

“Black, two spoonful of sugars and, of course, enough coffee to kill you instead of waking you up.”

“Damn, you’re the best.” You were about to say something else but Wanda was faster than you and soon her lips when on yours giving you a soft kiss before stepping away. “Wha-what was that?”

“I like my breakfast with a kiss from you, I was getting use to it I just thought…” Wanda was losing her confidence as she started talking but whatever else she was going to say you took the chance to cut it out by another kiss.

“Shall we eat and then hit the road?” You asked putting a strand of hair behind Wanda’s ear.

“Yeah, yeah that sounds… nice.”

Ten years ago their relationship had been different.

It was filled with passion, sex was something you knew pretty well and took advantage of as a way to escape reality, a tool used for missions or in your leisure time. For Wanda it had been the first-time experimenting emotions and pleasure she had been forbidden to practice or to even think about during the war consuming her country. Your conversations had been everything, music and movies, books and hobbies, it had been an immature relationship that had meant the world to you.

Wanda taught you about being in love.

Your broken heart had bled for a very long time, not really understanding why after everything the both of you had shared it ended up with Wanda looking for comfort and love in another’s arms. With time, you understood why, and while you didn’t have to like the answer it was something you were trying to make peace with.

Now, ten years and some months later you stood right before the very same woman you had fallen in love within your teen years. Whatever love you held for her changed, and instead of diminished with time it slept until your paths crossed again and it grew into something different.

This time around your conversations were different and while passion was still present, it was not about the physical connection.

You found Wanda’s eyes across the room, her facial features completely relaxed wearing a soft smile while listening to the explanation done by the guide. You were sitting down on a bench brough specially for you, the discomfort on your leg had started almost ten minutes ago but you didn’t want to leave the city just yet, not when it was pretty obvious Wanda was happy.

“Where next?” Wanda asked slightly giddy, her eyes sweeping around the Piazza della Signoria admiring the architecture and the sculptures and the fountain of Neptuno.

It was a warm day, with sweet breeze and streets filled with people running around the busy streets of Florence’s downtown. The weather had been kind of warm accompanied by a sweet breeze that made it easier to walk around, the conversation was directed to meaningless subjects that brought laughter to Wanda with your heart missing a bet whenever you glance into her green eyes.

“Well, there is another place I want to show you but it is not the right time yet,” you watched at the time before turning to Wanda.

“Which place?”

“Oh, it is a surprised, Little Witch.” You winked at her taking her hand in yours, Wanda fixed her position so as to not bother the crutch and your leg.

“Okay, so far I have liked the surprises you have given me, so wherever you want to take me I’m all in.”

“Good then, next stop would be the Gardens Boboli.” You declared limping slowly towards the closest street leading to Ponte Vecchio and the Palazzo.

It was the moment the both of you stepped into the garden that you realized how well you knew Wanda.

She was completely stunned by the sight, her mouth hanged open and her eyes gleamed amazed by the architecture of the place. You smiled behind her, your heart skipping a beat under the charm of her smile and her stare. Wanda was standing right beside you forgetting about her doubts and her fears, and letting herself go enjoying the moments she had always dreamt to share with you.

You enjoyed taking her to new places, you heard her stories about being on the run while being completely lost and sometimes confined to a room or a place without the opportunity to enjoy the world out there. You always thought it was kind of sad, to be so afraid of what would happen to you if you showed yourself the way you were to not really enjoy what the world had to offer. One of the things you enjoyed the most was the expression on her face whenever you told her a new story or showed her a new place, it was a world of pure discovery and it told you exactly what you wanted and with whom you wanted to be with.

After eight hours of just walking and talking, spending most of the morning getting to visit the most important places in the historical Florence, you started feeling the pain in your leg and body. You concealed your pain taking deep breaths while limping heavily down the streets, Wanda stood by your side completely aware of your discomfort.

“Y/N, please I know you wanted to show me this place but…I mean, it can wait, you don’t look well.” She stood right before you, her free hand cupping your cheek with concern.

You winced trying to offer a smile but coming out with a grimace.

“I know, I know it’s just this is the best part.” You pouted letting out a huff while nodding to the hill that was just a few meters away.

“What can be so important that you’re risking this pain in your leg?” Wanda finally asked cleaning up some of the sweat in your forehead.

“You.” The answer came before you could stop it, but there was only honesty in your words.

Wanda stopped her movements locking her eyes with your, she felt her cheek colouring red while her lips curved into a tiny smile.

“You’re such a sweet talker.” She softened her tone, though the small frown of concern never left her features.

“Is it working?” You asked, Wanda snorted looking away.

“You know it is.” She finally said wrapping her arm around your waist and making sure to give you the much needed it support to hold your body.

“Good then, help me out and then I will do whatever you want.” You winked at Wanda who could merely rolled her eyes at your words.

“I will hold you to that.”

You chuckled holding back any exclamation of pain while walking the last few meters to the top.

“This, my dear Wanda is Piazza Michelangelo.” You presented the place with a flourish of your hand, your grin grew when you realized Wanda had been surprised by the sight.

She didn’t let go of your hand while stepping closer to the balcony, her head turned to you then back again before she caught sight of your grimace.

“This is beautiful.” She mumbled taking you to one of the steps overseeing the city.

“So, was it worth it?” You let go a breathy whimper, intertwining your hand with hers.

“It is worthy mostly because I’m with you.” Wanda confessed resting her head on your shoulder. “But I don’t think it will be enough to justify the pain you are going through at the moment.”

You snorted but said nothing else, for what seemed like hours the both of you sat in silence observing the buildings and the landscape that was Florence. The magnificence of the Duomo governing a city that had been the birthplace of the rebirth of mankind. You closed your eyes allowing the warm on Wanda’s hand to bring comfort to your heart.

“Yesterday you were questioning our relationship as of late.” You broke the silence, never taking your eyes from the city.

“I was just confused, and a little angry for not having heard from you in a while, Y/N.” Wanda started trying to explain her emotions. “These last months had been like a dream come true for me, I never thought I would be close to you again, or that we could be like this.”

“You never thought I would forgive you.” You stated, Wanda shook her head unable to answer to your words.

“I never thought I could forgive you, Wanda.” This time around Wanda lifted her head turning to face you, her hands on yours. “last year I finally understood many things about you and about me. I even got to understand our relationship and what exactly had happened to the both of us.”

The sound of muffled conversations filled the silence in between, you could see people laughing while enjoying their time together in such a place. The sun was starting to face, but the day was still far from over: to your left Wanda sat facing both the city and yourself, and you had to wonder if perhaps you were doing the right thing.

“When I started our visits I did so without any specific expectations,” you continued furrowing your brow, trying to have the conversation of your life with such a pain was not an easy task. “I thought it would be good for you and me to see where this really was going and if it was worth it.”

“And, is it?” Wanda inquired rather frightened by your answer.

You turned to her, your lips curving into a smile and your eyes gleaming with deep emotion.

“It is worth it, Wanda. I don’t want you to be alone anymore, and I don’t want to be away from you either.” You stated putting your hand in your pocket, Wanda held her breath when you pulled out a small box from it.

“What…” She remembered the box she opened all those months ago in which she discovered the plans you had made for your future with her. She was trembling by then, her heart almost leaving her chest and a horde of wild butterflies fluttering their winds inside her abdomen.

“It is not what you think it is, not yet anyway.” You lifted your free hand before opening lightly, inside was resting a single necklace made of white gold and a single Tourmaline stone matching Wanda’s eye.

“Why…I mean, what…” Wanda trailed off not really knowing what to say, you shrugged making sure you were putting it on her, your lips right beside her ear.

“With this necklace, Wanda, I want to promise myself to you.” Your whispered sent a shiver down her back, you sighed staying still gathering your strength to continue. “I don’t want to repeat the mistakes of the past, and I want to believe that second chances mean a new chapter in our lives. So, please accept this as an offering for you to be with me and, this time around, let’s just see where it gets us.”

You found yourself being hugged by her, your eyes were wide open and your arms stood rigid at your sides. You could feel the wetness on your neck, the sign of her tears and the soft whimpers leaving her lips while she poured her answer in the embrace. After a while, your own arms moved to return it, closing your eyes while enjoying the closeness of the woman you had fallen in love with all those years ago and had not stopped loving ever since.

When Wanda leaned back, you could see those green eyes twinkling with the same love she had always showed you, the same one that had changed over the years but instead of diminished had transformed itself and had mature enough to love and let herself be loved.

“I love you.” Wanda whispered those words without any fear of rejection, she finally let go of what she had been holding all this time, all the pain, and the suffering had broken and now all that stood before her was a future you were proposing. “I just love you, I can’t imagine anybody else by my side, I just can hope this time around I don’t disappoint you, or hut you, I don’t want to I…”

“Hey, that’s fine, one step at a time, okay?” Wanda nodded holding your hand, at that moment a sharp electrifying pain went through your leg and abdomen making you gasp clenching your eyes closed.

You had been trying to hide the fat your leg had been killing you for quite some time, the position you were in had not been ideal and after a while the pain became far too much. You hated this only broke the moment you were living with Wanda, the young witch was on top of you right away checking over your leg and your body with a concern look.

“What is it? Does it hurt too bad?”

“It’s nothing.” You grumbled clenching your fists, Wanda dropped her stare frowning at you.

“You look in pain,” Wanda grabbed your hand stepping closer to you while crunching up her nose, she was examining you. “You have been walking all day, of course you’re not okay.”

You tried to wave away her concern, trying to stand up only for your legs to feel weak all of a sudden. She was right on you to hold you up.

“I think I can… ugh…” You sat down closing your eyes for a moment, Wanda knelt beside you brushing your hair and cupping your cheeks.

“I think it is enough, I can carry you and we can go to the car,” Wanda checked you over trying to remember how far away from the parking lot the both of you were.

“N-no, that won’t be necessary, we still have a lot to visit and…” You tried to stand up but Wanda put a hand on your shoulder shaking her head.

“Don’t be stubborn, I can see it hurt you.” Wanda cupped your face in her hands, placing a kiss on your forehead. “Let me help you, please?”

She grabbed your hand in hers, her eyes pleading to you to stop your stubbornness. You closed one eye, the other one falling on the gemstone she was now wearing. With a grumbled, you nodded accepting her help.

“Okay, we can go home…I don’t have energy to take us there, but I can take us to the car.”

“Are you sure? I think I can help you out and we can make our way over there.” Wanda continued brushing your hair away and wiping your forehead.

“Yeah, it is close enough for me, and I don’t think I can actually walk.” You replied sheepishly, Wanda rolled her eyes already knowing you would act the tough act until you really felt helpless.

With a flicker of your hand and her help, the both of you crossed the shadows until you ended up right in front of the car. After that, the ride home was done in relatively silence, your pain increasing as the time passed by. Wanda couldn’t help but sent worried glances your way, her hand on yours trying to calm you down by distracting you with stories or questions you were ready to answer.

The Villa was still empty, Natasha had gone into the city on some sort of mission, and Yelena and America had left earlier without giving any sort of explanation. You grabbed Wanda tightly, almost falling on your face when another jolt of electricity went through your body.

“Sorry.” You mumbled; Wanda shook her head making sure you rest comfortably on your bed. “We were having a good moment, and I really wanted it to be more romantic, the sort of moment in which I will clear up your doubts but…”

Wanda sat facing you, her hands making quick work on your shirt and pants, her fingertips moving delicately with the frown still in place. You grabbed her hand in yours kissing her before helping her out in the process of getting you into more comfortable clothes.

“You don’t have to be sorry for that, I enjoyed our time together and we still have time for a conversation.” Wanda replied making sure you were quite comfortable on the bed.

“I don’t want you to think I left because I preferred the mission, or because I didn’t want to be anymore, you know?” You were breathing hard by then, the injury on your leg had been bad enough to let you feel useless while having one of those attacks.

“I know.”

“I was enjoying our little meetings; I think we never got a chance to do what we did on them.” This time around you smiled feeling the softness of a cotton towel on your face, fresh water touched your lips and you welcome the beverage while also trying to swallow the pills Wanda placed on your hand.

“I enjoyed them as well, I was afraid you have grown tired of me, that perhaps you had finally gotten what you wanted it before leaving.” Wanda confessed finally sitting down at your side, her hand on yours.

You shook your head putting her hand to your lips, the heavy doses of the pills alongside with the tiredness of the day was catching up with you.

“Thank you for coming here, and for not turning me away, Little Witch.”

Wanda softened lightly she leaning in placing a kiss on your forehead.

“Don’t mention it, Love, I’m here.” The endearing term slipped her lips without noticing, you gave her a quick stare before smiling. “Let me give you the last pill and then I leave you to rest.”

You frowned shaking your head grabbing her hand, “no, please just…”

“Y/N you need to take the medication,” Wanda started but you cut it off shaking your head.

“No, I mean, don’t go.” You took a deep breath, your voice coming on short gasps, “Stay with me, please? I want to be with you.”

Wanda felt the warm on her cheeks, she broke into a timid smile that didn’t go away walking around your room grabbing the last of the pills before placing it on your tongue. You drank more water shifting slightly to leave an open space for the other woman.

With some hesitation, Wanda took her shoes off and her jeans, she grabbed a pair of shorts and then went right in with you on the bed. Wanda stayed still her back resting on the pillows chewing on her lips until you snuggled closer to her.

“You don’t have to be so tense; you know?” You closed your eyes, a playful smile on your lips. “I am not in the right physical state to offer you some interesting games to help you relax but I am not against them if it helps.”

“Y/N! I thought you were sleepy?” Wanda shifted her body to welcoming you in her arms, you chuckled observing her red cheeks and dilated pupils.

“I am but you were just so tense, let me just rest for a while and I promise you later on I will bite if that’s what you need.”

Wanda rolled her eyes finding adorable your chuckled and your expression just as you started falling asleep. She let her fingertips caress your head, while she too close her eyes.

This was all that she needed it.

This was all the comfort she was seeking out.

A day ago, she had been mad, but most of all, she had been heartbroken believing herself a fool for ever thinking you could forgive her past sins. Or for even entertained the idea you would want her back in your life, now she was just lying there with you in her arms, fast asleep and a necklace that sealed a promise between the both of you.

With a whispered, ‘I love you’, from her part Wanda too fall asleep with the same content smile you were wearing in your sleep.

_____________________________________________________________

Next Chapter: Reader and Wanda have some fun together, Natasha comes with news and Yelena and America had started a new secret group everyone knows about but they like the ilussion of secrecy. Reader and Wanda have stop running and as time passes they finally take one last step towards happiness.

[moody-alcoholic]

Family

Now I will have a glass of wine and relax for the evening, because editing 2 chapters back to back was rough.

Summary: Ghoap x Reader, throuple. Slow burn (sorry but not sorry). 2.8k words. Reader is female (she/her), army nurse, non descript physical features, names used: Ashe. CW: Child abuse, mentions of war, toxic family dynamic, fuck Jack, alcohol.

AN: This chapter does have some heavy topics so if you want to skip it due to the content warnings that’s fine. You CAN skip this chapter and not miss any of the main story notes. This is basically just a little backstory into Jack and the shenanigans his family have been up to. TLDR: It's okay of you skip this chapter, we still hate Jack, fuck him he’s a bad person.

Previous parts - masterlist - next part

Enjoy <3

Jack had always hated being told what to do, from a young age he would fight back. ‘A problem child’ his mother would say when he would kick up a fuss in public. ‘Just needs some strict discipline’ people would reply. Coming from a military family he learnt from a young age how to follow orders. His family were very proud of the fact they could trace their family history all the way back to the civil war. Jack had never questioned what he would do in life, he always knew in this household when you turn 17 you’re joining the military. He just hated being told what to do, then one day it all changed.

He remembers it like it was yesterday, 14 years old, his parents where hosting a goodbye party for his brother who was about to be shipped off to war. A right of passage, someone to look up to. Jack did look up to his brother, he loved his brother, watching him walk around in his shiny new uniform being doted on by everyone was the first time Jack decided maybe the military was for him. It was when his mother asked him to do something for her that he decided to kick up a fuss, he didn’t want to leave the party, didn't want to miss saying goodbye to his brother. 

“That boy needs some discipline!” His grandfather shouted at him pointing his cane. That was the only thing Jack remembered about his grandfather, the cane and the Vietnam War medals he would wear constantly. His mother screamed at him to listen making even more of a scene. 

“If I spoke to my mother like that my father would beat me! Young kids now-a-days have it too easy! You’ve all gone soft, God help our nation if these are the soldiers of tomorrow!” His grandfather barked. His mother embarrassed and frustrated attempted to drag him inside, it only made him fight harder. His father gripped him by the collar despite his mothers pleas that ‘she can handle it.’ He was dragged into the kitchen thrown on the cold tile floor. 

“How dare you embarrass me like this!” His father yelled. Jack was used to his father yelling used to feeling the back of his fathers hand on his face. This time was different, this time his father was furious. 

“I hate you!” Jack shouted as he pulled his body off the floor. His fathers fist found his face knocking him off his feet and the wind out his chest. Before Jack could react his father was dragging him along the floor. He pulled the pantry doors open throwing Jack inside.

“You will stay in there and think about your actions! No son of mine will ever speak to me that way!” The door was slammed shut the deadbolt closed. Jack sat there in the dark his head throbbing as he sobbed.

His brother let him out, opening the door and bending down, Jacks eyes still raw from crying, his head still throbbing. 

“Chin up champ, dad doesn't mean it, he loves you really.” He said extending his arm out to help him up. 

“He hates me,” Jacks said burring his head back in his knees, ignoring the hand. 

“He doesn't hate you, he just gets mad sometimes.” 

“Take me with you.” Jack begged, his brother just laughed. 

“I’m going to a war zone, I don’t think they let kids come Jackie.” 

“Don’t call me that!” Jack shouted back, he hated being called Jackie, Jackie was a girls name. His brothers and cousins would call him that to wind him up, he hated it. His brother laughed again walking into the pantry and sitting next to him. 

“How about when I’m back I’ll take you on a trip somewhere? New York, we could spend the day there see all the sights.” 

“New York’s boring.” Jack said huffing. 

“Okay, what about DC? You love DC, we’ll go to all the museums spend the weekend stuffing our faces.” Jack smiled at his brother who smiled back.

“You have to be good though? No more kicking up a fuss, no more fighting with mom and dad. Be a good boy and we’ll go for the whole weekend?” His brother said nudging him. Jack smiled throwing his arms round his brother. It was a good hug, the type of brotherly love Jack missed. Jack promised to be good, promised to not fight with his parents. He kept his promise, learned to just do as he was told even if he didn’t like it. 

His brother never came home. They said it was a bomb, some kind of landmine, there wasn’t even a body to bring home. Jack remembers his mothers sobs late into the night, his father becoming more withdrawn and distant. His other siblings leaving home one by one, each with a look of dread on their faces when they were sent to fight the same war that killed their brother. When they all came home safe time after time Jack couldn’t tell if his dad was relieved or disappointed. 

“To die for your country is the greatest honour you will ever know. Your brother gave his life for our freedom, you will do the same.” His father said as Jack left for marine boot camp. Jack liked being a marine, enjoyed it, met Susan his wife a navy mechanic one tour. When he went back to the US to get married, it was the first time he had seen his dad be proud. 

“You did good son, you’ll be wanting to start a family no doubt.” Jack’s father said to him on his wedding day. 

“I think it’s time you got introduced to the family business, so you can provide for my grandchildren.” Jack looked at his father confused. Little did he know what kind of world he was about to get himself into. 

—————————— 

“We need to get rid of 141, they’ve already shut down our operations in Iraq and Urzikstan, if they get our routes in Syria or Lebanon we’re in trouble.” Jacks father says. Jack wasn’t really paying attention, sipping his whisky looking out down at the garden of his in-laws house getting ready for the party below. 

“I thought you were handling it?” Jacks father-in-law, Albert asked. 

“We ran into some problems in Urzikstan.” 

“Anything we should be concerned about?” 

“No, it’s being delt with. We should focus our concerns on the Syria route, we can deal with the rest later.” Jack heard a glass being put down, he turned to look. His father and father-in-law were stood round a desk in Albert’s study looking through papers. Jack walked over to the desk his fathers eyes watching him. 

“You are ready for Syria?” He asked.

“Yes sir.” Jack replied. 

“Getting you that base used all my contacts, you’re lucky your father was able to get you the promotion so quickly.” Albert said filling his glass with another drink. Jack was happy he got the promotion and the base, a supply depot in the middle of Syria. It is mainly used as a medical facility for the surrounding bases and a restock depot. Quiet and filled with supplies, supplies Jack would be responsible for selling to Al-qatala. It’s the first time he had been trusted to do something like this alone, without his fathers or his brothers help.

There was a knock at the door, Albert closed the files they were looking at and got up to answer it. Jack looked at his father sipping his drink, Albert was talking too hushed for Jack to hear. The music had started out in the garden, people must be starting to arrive. Albert came back to the table and finished his drink. 

“I am required to greet guests, I expect you to be down for my wife’s speech.” He says straightening his uniform out. Jack salutes him as he leaves. 

“Captain Price is going to be here tonight, I would assume he is bringing the rest of them with him. You should use tonight to get to know them, find their weaknesses.” Jacks father said.

“Are they really that much of a problem?” Jack asked. 

“They can become a problem very easily. Right now though we think we have thrown them off the trail.” Jacks father says finishing his drink. He pats jack on the shoulder putting the glass back on the drinks tray. 

“Don’t wait around too long Jack you’re expected to show your face at this event.” Jack nodded as his father left the room leaving Jack alone. He looked over at the folder, the one with all the intel collected on 141. He flipped it open seeing pictures, he needed to remind himself who to look out for. There was another knock at the door he quickly put the folders away leaving his glass and going to answer it. It’s his squad-mates-or since his promotion ex-squad-mates-they owed him one last favour though. 

“It wasn’t hard to get,” One of them says holding the gun out. Jack moves so they can come into the room. 

“Okay look, she needs to be gone before the speech starts and she needs stay gone for the whole night,” Jack explains. “The gun is to scare her only, that’s all you’re doing is scaring her.” They nod and the one with the gun tucks it away in his waist so it’s hidden. 

“Why are we scaring her again?” Jack hit’s him over the head tutting. 

“None of your business, you’re getting paid for it but only if she’s gone for the whole night.” Jack says.

“What can we do though? What if she screams or something?” Another one asks. 

“Gag her I don’t care, no marks on the face or arms though, in fact try to avoid leaving any evidence at all.” Jack says rubbing his temple. He starts to move them out the room.

“Come find me at the end of the night.” He says following them out. They head downstairs and Jack takes a moment to look at himself in the mirror in the hall, he always liked the way he looked in his formal’s, he likes the way it made him feel. Jack always liked the power of being in control, and now with his father and father-in-law trusting him with this latest trade he felt more powerful then he had before, he liked that, he smiled at himself in the mirror then headed out to the party. 

—————————— 

Jack’s father walked up to him as he was mingling with some people. He felt the familiar squeeze on his arm. A sign to wrap up his conversation and move away from the crowd. He let his father lead him back over to the bar. 

“10 o’clock that’s Price, don’t stare.” His father said then ordered a drink. Jack turned to look his eyes scanning the crowd until he say him, he did recognised him, it’s his beard that gives him away.

“Who’s the guy with him?” Jack looking back at his father and ordering a drink. 

“Riley, his lieutenant, the guy greeting them is MacTavish.” Jack turned to look taking a sip of his drink. 

“Who’s the woman?” Jack asked looking back.

“Friend of Chloe’s MacTavish is her plus one.” Jacks father replied finishing his drink and ordering another. 

“His girlfriend?” Jack asked, his father sighed, Jack knew that was his job to find out. 

“Is she military?” Jack asked, he expected a sigh back.

“Army nurse, that’s all I know.” Jacks father got up off the stool. The band started to die down as Jacks mother-in-law took to the stage. Jack was not listening but he did raise his glass and nod when she mentioned his name, pointing him out as people turned to look at him. Chloe was absent from the rest of her family, thank God something is going right and they’ve done their job.

He wanted to make his way round the crowd towards Price, talking to them would be a good start to get intel. When the speech was finished everyone clapped and he started to make his way over as the music picked up again. Jacks father had beaten him too it of course, already shaking hands with Price. Jack picked up the end of the friendly introductions. 

“This is my son Jack,” He introduces them and Jack shakes Price’s hand. Jack listens to his father talk as his eyes focus over each person, they seem harmless enough, one of them is missing Garrick, maybe he was somewhere else in the party. Jack felt a tap on his shoulder and he turned to look. It was one of his squad-mates. He squeezed his lips together grabbing him by the arm and leading him away from the crowd. 

“What the fuck are you doing here?” He asks. 

“There’s a problem, some girl came and caught us she took Chloe.” Jack feels his stomach drop, he quickly looks around.

“Where are the others?” He asks. 

“In the pool house, she gave Chris a bloody nose.” Jack dipped his head.

“Fucking hell, what did she look like?” Jack asks. 

“I-I don’t know,” He says stammering. Jack sighs.

“How drunk are you?” Jack says smacking the beer bottle out his hand. “If you saw her again could you point her out?” 

“Yeah,” He says sheepishly. Jack nods pulling him back to the crowd, he’s looking around as Jacks eyes fall back to Price and his father seemingly wrapping up their conversation as they shake hands. 

“Her there.” He points suddenly, Jack slaps his hand down tutting but looking in the direction. He sees the movement in the crowd and manages to catch a glimpse. Shit. It’s the girl MacTavish came with.

“You sure it’s her?” He asks. 

“Yeah, that’s her.” 

“Are any of you sober?” Jack asks. 

“Brian’s only had one beer.” 

“Bring him to me and the rest of you say out of my sight.” Jack says waving him away. Jack waits around till Brian arrives. 

“Follow, and don’t have anymore to drink I need one of you to be sober.” Jack says as he leads him inside. There are some people mulling around mostly interacting with Jack’s mother in law. Jack finds a corner with Brian as they pretend to make conversation. After a few minutes watches as Price leaves out the front door followed by Riley with the woman, MacTavish and Chloe. 

“Go get the car ready.” Jack says as he finishes his drink Brian nods slipping out the front door. 

—————————— 

They follow them to an apartment building in Canary Wharf, everyone but Price leaves the car heading into the building. When Price drives away Jack reaches into the back of the car bringing out a laptop. Brian tries to make conversation Jack ignores him trying to find the mystery woman’s military file. Who was she and what connection does she have with 141? According to all the intel they had she has no connection with them. She has to be a friend though. Jack was just about to give up when he saw something that caught his eye. A medical note for MacTavish, signed by an army nurse, now he had a name, he looked her up. 

“Oh that’s her.” Brian says pointing at the picture on the file. Jack smiled, now he has a name, and a location. He makes Brian drive him back to the party and finds his dad pulling him back into his father-in-laws office. He places the laptop down on the table with her file open. 

“Who’s she?” His father asks. 

“How we get intel on 141.” Jack explains the situation to his father, leaving out the hazing part. The whole time looking for any kind of approval in his fathers expression. 

“How do you know she’ll talk?” His father asks. 

“She doesn’t need to, it’s win win either way she’s a bargaining chip.” Jack says.

“How do you know she’s so important to them?” Jack paused for a second. 

“I have the boys watching their movements.” He says, somewhat of a lie. His dad sighs he seems unimpressed. 

“I’ll get her on your base, regardless if you can get info out her or not this can’t fuck up any of the deals we’ve made.” His father almost spits at him. 

“Yes, sir, of course not.” Jack’s father finishes his drink handing the glass to his son. He looks like he want’s to say something more instead he shakes his head leaving the room. Jack watches him leave then turns back to look at the file on the laptop, she had to be close to them, she had to be the key, and there are always multiple ways to get information from someone. Army nurse, he scoffs, she’ll be easy to break.  

Next part

[jacaerysgf]

Flowers | The Series | Chapter 17 | Surprise!

Summary: You receive even more unexpected visitors and receive some upsetting news that you are not looking forward to.

Jacaerys Velaryon x Dunn!Reader

a.n: GOD SO SORRY FOR THE LONG WAIT !!! i really appreciate all the comments and promise to get around to responding to any ive missed !! hoping to have this story done by the end of the month <3 im already working on the next one as i write so dont worry about another long wait i swear.

series masterlist

taglist ! (open)

@newestobsessionishere @alexa554 @th3b4tm4n @hazzapotter @claire-loves-music @tssf-imagines @melsunshine @majoso12 @brain-empty-only-draken @urmomsgirlfriend1 @emmalvei-blog

You had thought that would be the most exciting thing to happen, Joffrey would stay for awhile before he returned to his duties in the eyrie and then everything would go back to the sort of normalcy you had before.

Yet your parents received a raven that had your stomach turning inside out. “We are to go to the Highgarden's to welcome prince Jacaerys and his soon to be wife lady Cassandra Baratheon for their engagement tour, Highgarden is apparently the first stop.” Your father ripped the letter for your mothers hands and skimmed it over himself, “They are asking all the families to arrive and bring an engagement gift? this is ridiculous!” Dorothy, the head maid of the house scoff as she placed a plate of food on the table. “The nerve of them.”

You have lost all your appetite.

you measly push around the food on your plate while everyone around you erupts into boisterous chatter. "after that man publicly humiliated my daughter? they dare ask this of us? the nerve!" "maybe she could fake illness and wont have to attend the festivities?" "i can already see their snug faces as they look upon her ugh i refuse to attend such an ordeal."

When your hands slam on the table all chatter seizes and all eyes turn to you where you keep your head down towards the table. wordlessly you walk out the hall and the others in the room look at each other concerned.

you find yourself mindlessly walking through the fields as you attempt to catch your breath. it is fine. you were simply not chosen that is all. and now he wants you to attend his stupid engagement tour? for an engagement to a women that is not you? you fall on your back and stare at the sky in disbelief. this was ridiculous almost outright shameless to point you cannot believe it was his idea. Cassandra never did like you maybe this was her way of trying to stick it to you and laugh in your face.

your face grows sour at the idea of having to watch her snarkily brag with jacaerys on her arm you were going to be sick.

You had thought you were finally making progress moving pass your feelings for the prince but if anything they have only gotten worse. you think of him far too often these days especially with joffrey and trisk here. a part of you wonder if he thinks of you too. its a foolish thought, he had made his choice and there was nothing else to do but to live with it and move on.

You close your eyes and fall into a light sleep unable to continue thinking in reality and far more interested in living in dream land where he laid with you as well. hes there waiting for you, the familiar flower fields of your homeland being a comforting sight and with him sitting there you fell all the more better. He strokes your cheek gently when you open your eyes to greet him, a comforting smile on his face. “my love.” your eyes fall closed as you grab his hand and press it closer to your skin. “wont you look at me?”

Harshly you shake your head, though the limbo you meet him in is merely a dream the pain of reality still stings at your skin. “you will not even allow me to hear your voice my love?” you squeeze your eyes shut as he caresses your face. “it hurts.” his other hand comes up and plays with your hair, “its alright my love just look at me.” you fight with yourself for a few moments before your eyes flutter open and your heart aches. He looks as beautiful as ever, smiling down at you with moon crested eyes.

“there you are.” you hate the way a smile creeps up on your face and you especially hate the way his grin grows at that. “i hate to see you so upset.” this has you huffing and you try to sit uo but he keeps you firmly in his lap. “you have no right to say that to me.” his face falls and he cups your cheek as you turn your head away from him. “im sorry.” “then why did you do it?” your fictional prince has no response and thats because you have no clue as well.

as if he is a brush of air he disappears as you willed him to and sit up with your head in your hands. he had basically told you he wanted to marry you, scared off any other suitors you could have had gods you were even in a courtship before he wormed his way in and for what? nothing.

You force your eyes open and suddenly you are right back to reality where you huff as you shakily stand taking a deep breath as you realize the sun is much higher in the sky. how long had you been out here? you decide you should head inside before you freeze at the silence around you.

the fields especially this time of year are bursting with people tending to the flowers for the seasons prep but you can’t see a single soul out there. You wonder where everyone could have gone, maybe you are still dreaming. you walk back towards the castle once taking one last final look around before heading inside and you pause.

now you know this must be a dream because why would three dragons be sitting on one of the empty fields not too far from your home. you must be seeing things.

Yet when you walk into the hall you quickly realize you are not making things up or seeing things as when you pinch your arm the group of three stands before you and you feel your stomach plummet. “just the lady we wished to see.”

you find yourself bowing as your mind races trying to understand what was going on, “my princes, princess.” “just the lady i was looking to see!” “you honor me my prince.” lucerys eagerly walks over to you and grips your hands in his. “i have missed you. things ive been grim without you.” Despite how confused you are by his presence or even his words you force out a smile, “You honor me.”

You have no clue what else to say or what else to do. Every single pair of eyes in the room are looking upon you and you look down at your hands as you mind tries to make sense of this mess. thankfully aemond grips lucerys back and tugs him away from you. “he is as eager as always do not mind him lady dunn.” You’re more than thankful for the saving, you weakly grin at him as you still try to make sense that members of the royal family now stand in your familys main hall.

your eyes drift towards your parents who seem just as bewildered and lost as you are. You use the opportunity of lucerys and aemond bickering with one another to slip around them to go stand next to your parents who urge you next to them. “what is happening?” Your mother tilts her head down towards your ear and your eyes widen in horror at her words.

—

jacaerys realizes his life ie much quieter today. As he roams around the halls he feels as though he is missing something but he has no clue what. He’s done all his studying, hes sat through the unbearable meeting with cassandra and his mother about the wedding preparations, he did his afternoon training what was missing?

He tried not to think about most things these days. Simply allowing life to pass around him while he keeps a mundane routine but today was truly throwing him off. When he walks into one of the common rooms he stops before cassandra and aegon who seem to be chatting about something at the table but the two stop when jacaery approaches, cassandra even looks embarrassed that jace had walked in on them but he does not acknowledge it. “my sweet nephew! finally done being broody today?”

He rolls his eyes, why does he even bother but as he turns to walk away he freezes and turns back around. “Where is everyone else?” Normally the rest of his siblings and lucerys would all be sitting around with him but only cassandra is there awkward sipping at her chalice full of what he only hopes to be tea.

Aegons grin turns sinister and jacaerys feels a pit of dread grow in his stomach. “oh did you not hear? they left to the reach just this morning. you know, for your tour.” Jacaerys stares in confusion as aegon takes a happy chug from his wine. “the engagement tour.” “i know the tour you speak of.” Aegons chuckles fill the room as cassandra looks back and forth between the two men. “why ever would they leave now? the tyrells are no where near ready to host.”

“oh no. theyre not staying with the tyrells.” jacaerys head turns in confusion while aegon only seems to be happier the more and more this conversation goes on. “did they not tell you? the dunn’s will be hosting them for our stay in the reach. Theyve gone to go hang out with our good friend lady y/n.”

Aegon cannot stop the roar of laughter that bubbles up in his throat at his own words and he folds over in his own fit of laughter. Cassandra looks bewildered by this news and sits up straight. “house dunn? truly? i thought flower hall was a rather, small place.”

Her real feelings about the matter and the state of house dunn and its hall very clear in her expression and tone. She looks over at jacaerys too worried about his reaction to only see a blank look on his face as he looks upon the two of them. Jacaerys rapidly blinks for a moment before he slowly opens his mouth. “how pleasant.” after which he spins on his heel and walks out the room swiftly.

Aegon pouts as he watches jacaerys leave, clearly he had been hoping for a better reaction out of the crowned prince. aegon however turns back towards cassandra with a smirk. “bah who cares about all that though right? lets go back to what we were talking about.” A blush creeps up on her face as aegon leans towards her the conversation they had just had with jacaerys already gone from her mind.

[abandoned-quiche]

okay so basically. chapter 5 ends with the roaring interrupting the festival. ralsei tells you and and susie to evacuate the townsfolk and get everyone into the shelter - it's the only place safe from the roaring. it was designed for this. susie refuses, saying she wants to fight back against the titans. ralsei is like "You don't understand, Susie! This isn't something that can be fought back against " (while also omitting some very important information because he's ralsei) but susie doesn't listen and ralsei concedes and lets her stay with him. she tells kris that above all else they have to make sure noelle makes it to the bunker.

so you bring the townsfolk to the bunker. it is not a dark world. it's a bunker it's decrepit and creepy and filled with... weird sciencey stuff, that nobody dares touch. except for sans. he's very, very interested in all this equipment.

this entrance area is where the townsfolk will stay. but you and noelle will explore deeper into the bunker. it seems to be a place between light and dark. nothing quite makes sense here, but it doesn't exactly not make sense, either.

as you explore, you find lab entries numbered 1 through 16. (i like @/marnielovesyouu's idea where noelle figured out how to translate wingdings as you explore.) you fight weird, creepy enemies with vibes similar to the memoryheads.

at the end, you find gaster, who is currently making entry number 17. you don't think he's spotted you, until he turns around and says "WHAT DO YOU TWO THINK?"

when you get back to the safe room, sans and papyrus are nowhere to be found. nobody seems to know where they went. but a few things are conspicuously missing - a few gaster blasters, and a strange machine with an unclear purpose.

[idkwhatever580]

Masterlist

Requests are CLOSED!

Who I have written for: Natasha Romanoff x Reader, Regina George x Reader, WandaNat x Reader

Who I will write for: most of MCU women per request, mean girls women, I would write for some Criminal Minds women if I got a request. (I usually do not write for men but if requested I might try it)

-I use she/her most of the time but I am gonna try and write a few with they/them pronouns or I just won’t specify gender

-I am probably not going to be writing for a long while. Between my mental health and school, it is a lot that I can't really handle. If I post it is a huge surprise for the both of us :(

-works with lines through them are not published yet

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tag List <<<< Comment on any post if you want to be added to the Taglist :)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Favorite's Masterlist: Just a compilation of all of my most favorite fics by other people :)

Fake Twitter Posts

Agatha All Along: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

One shots

More than you’ll ever know

Natasha comes home from a long mission to find y/n curled up in her hoodie.

Her pt 1. pt 2

Pt. 1: Natasha meets y/n while undercover at a soup kitchen. What happens when hydra gets mixed in? Pt. 2: After y/n gets rescued what is in store in the next chapter of her life with Natasha?

I would die happy🎶

What happens when “good girl” y/n breaks it off with “bad girl” Natasha, and Natasha realizes she needs y/n more than she thought?

Karma’s a Bitch 🥸

Natasha pranks reader without knowing r is petty and will double back on the prank war with much more force

Are you mad?

Natasha is jealous and y/n is a bit sensitive. Y/n overthinks wayyyy too much.

I’ll cut your f****** balls off!💥

Y/n gets mad when Bruce “accidentally” ends up with his face in Natasha’s boobs 🤨

Nat…⭐️💥

Natasha and y/n like each other but are two dumb idiots that won’t ever confess their love. Or will they? (You know they will) both are about 17-18

Absolutely not! (nsfw)

Natasha and y/n decide to switch up their typical styles for a stark party. What if they switch up something else afterwards?

Country Girl 🎶

One night a drunken Tony forgets y/n’s Texan roots and dares her to sing something different.

Breaking up with you pt. 1 pt. 2

Y/n is already having a bad day, what happens when she overhears Natasha and Clint’s conversation?

I’m sure you could pt. 1 pt. 2

Pt. 1: Y/n follows Natasha to Norway. What happens when they go out? (Loosely based off of black widow events) Pt. 2: Y/n goes with Nat as she navigates her way around the red room. (based off of black widow)

Are you f****** kidding me?! 🥸

Y/n has very bad trauma with alcoholism in her family, so she never drinks. Natasha never pushes it and is always protective of her decisions but what happens when the boys play a little “prank” on y/n?

Always remember the things she said 🎶

Natasha Romanoff x reader | Wanda Maximoff x reader!platonic/older sister vibes | Wanda Maximoff x Natasha Romanoff!platonic/older sister vibes again

Love you!

Highschool!au where Nat has a fat crush on Yelena's best friend and needs a little help with what to do. Nat also has ADHD :)

Admiring

Sweet Natasha x reader (Tooth Rotting fluff)

Think about sex!

Y/n has a crush on Natasha and Nat says something during a car ride with her and Wanda. Secrets are uncovered.

Want to want me 🎶

Nat can’t stay away from y/n in the night. Y/n wants something more than some midnight mayhem. Maybe Nat needs a push.

Holy Shit! (nsfw)

During the ceremony for Y/n and Natasha’s wedding, all of Y/n’s and Natahsa's bridesmaids/men slip Polaroids of Y/n's boudoir shoots throughout the night which leads to a hard time for Natasha.

Embarrassed (nsfw)

Reader's best friend Wanda informs reader about this new thing she learned with Agatha that amped up their sex life. Reader decides to try it out with Nat, and the outcome is better than expected.

You Like Me?

I decided to pair this prompt and this prompt together to create one big mess :)

Baby No!

Reader finds a mug identical to Natasha's favorite mug and starts plotting...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Drabbles

Where did you learn that?! Pt.1💥 Pt.2🥵 Pt.3💥

Pt. 1: It’s a casual day when Tony brings the team to a new area to show them something. And Y/n surprises everyone. Pt. 2: The three things Natasha wants from y/n. (nsfw) Pt. 3: A few instances when y/n danced on the pole :)

Um… sure! 🥸

Nat makes y/n’s favorite food and y/n wants Natasha’s food instead.

Move! 🥸

Nat decides she's going to call her sweet, soft-hearted Y/n a word that Y/n doesn't take lightly to see how she reacts.

Clean

Y/n is ten months clean!!!

Very Funny

Natasha and Y/n spar together, but Y/n can't handle Nat's flirty quips even as girlfriends.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Incorrect quotes

Tis but a flesh wound

She is my purpose

Sleepy Doug

Go. To. Bed.

MY EYES.💥 Pt.2🥵 (nsfw)

Oh lord

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Series Masterlist

Avengers Team Night Masterlist (I may or may not have said if write all of these and I may or may not have lied) (hint: if you want me to write them. Make a request and I’ll do it :))

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Disclaimer : I do not own any of the characters I write about. You do not have permission to copy my works. (Although I’d love it if you took inspiration from it and credited me)

Also a disclaimer: most if not all of the gifs, pictures, and videos I use are not mine and I do not own them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Regina George x Reader

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

One shots

I threw it away

Weight had never been a tricky thing for y/n. Until she started dating Regina.

She knows

Regina comforts r as they battle their ed and work through generational trauma.

Gina?

Reader helps Regina when her life falls apart

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Drabbles/ incorrect quotes

Family time

[questinwitchface]

Q's 31 Days of Halloween Advent Event Masterpost

Hello dears! Back in March, I decided I really wanted to write a Halloween fic this year, and with inspiration from @allcolorsoftherainbow who did an advent challenge for Christmas one year, I decided to do an advent challenge for Halloween this year, as a personal challenge to myself. My friend, my sibling/beta reader, and I all worked together to create a prompt list; I wrote a fic for each prompt, and soon I will be sharing those fics with you!

Each day in October, expect a new fic from me until finally we get to Halloween! Most of the fics are SamBucky, and most - but not all - are oneshots. I've separated them out into themed weeks, just because I thought that would be fun. The themed weeks are: Family, Other Ships, Angst and Smut, and Countdown to Halloween!

All fics will be posted to AO3, and I will edit this post to add the link to each new fic as the challenge goes on. As always, please read the tags, summary, etc. because the ratings and content will vary.

Family Week

Prompt 1: Witch - You Look Bewitching - Rated G; 2,042 words; SamBucky and Sarah Wilson/Original Male Character

Prompt 2: Corn Maze - It's That Obvious - Rated G; 2,284 words; SamBucky

Prompt 3: Best Halloween Candy - The Candy Market - Rated G; 1,671 words; SamBucky

Prompt 4: Creepy Object - The Not Fun Scary - Rated T; 3,383 words; SamBucky

Prompt 5: Making Costumes - Con Crunch - Unrated; Incomplete Multichapter; SamBucky

Prompt 6: A Spell - To Make Love Happen - Rated T, 3,504 words; SamBucky

Prompt 7: Making Decorations - Warmth That Lingers - Rated G; 730 words; SamBucky

Prompt 8: Treats - Revenge Is Sweet, but Maybe You're Sweeter - Rated G; 3,982 words; SamBucky and Sarah Wilson/Original Female Character

Other Ships Week

Prompt 9: Trick-or-Treating - A Daring Knight, a Brave Bard, and a Hapless Prince - Rated T; 1,650 words; Kate/Yelena/Joaquín and SamBucky

Prompt 10: Spiders - Irrational - Rated G; 988 words; Sharon Carter/Joaquín Torres

Prompt 11: Group Costume - Ruby Red - Rated T; Incomplete Multichapter; SamSteve and SamNatasha and SamBucky

Prompt 12: Ghost - To Love Is to Live - Rated T; Incomplete Multichapter; Kate/Yelena/Joaquín

Prompt 13: Haunted House - First Date - Rated T; 1,906 words; Shang-Chi/Joaquín

Prompt 14: Funny Costume - Getting Back at Bucky - Rated T; 1,922 words; Kate/Yelena/Joaquín and minor SamBucky

Angst and Smut Week

Prompt 15: Contacting the Dead - Best Friend's Opinion - Rated T; 4,561 words; SamBucky and ambiguous relationship Sam&/Riley

Prompt 16: Graveyard - In Memoriam - Rated T; 3,130 words; SamBucky

Prompt 17: Cursed Object - Finish the Last Chapter, Start a New Story - Rated T; 1,899 words; SamBucky

Prompt 18: Zombie - Until the End - Rated T; 4,471 words; SamBucky

Prompt 19: Darkness - The Good Part - Rated E; 3,197 words; SamBucky

Prompt 20: Vampire - Stay for Dinner - Rated E; Incomplete Multichapter; SamBucky

Prompt 21: Sexy Costume - May the Sunlight Shine on Me - Rated E; 3,462 words; SamBucky

Countdown to Halloween

Prompt 22: Decorating the House/Yard - Something Special - Rated G; 1,817 words; SamBucky

Prompt 23: Halloween Scavenger Hunt - When They Look Back, Will They Call This Their First Date? - Rated G; 4,379 words; SamBucky

Prompt 24: Fortune Teller - If It's in the Cards... - Rated G; 2,657 words; SamBucky

Prompt 25: Scary Movies - Cuddles and Coziness, Being Together - Rated G; 1,151 words; SamBucky

Prompt 26: Pumpkin Carving - The Avengers' First Annual Pumpkin Carving Contest - Rated G; 1,314 words; SamBucky

Prompt 27: Werewolf - I'd Love You in Any Form - Rated T; 3,544 words; SamBucky

Prompt 28: Fall Festival - Birds and Butterflies - Rated T; 8,554 words; SamBucky

Prompt 29: Pumpkin Patch - Just a Couple of Guys, Going to a Pumpkin Patch - Rated G; 1,658 words; SamBucky

Prompt 30: - Ghost Story - Do You Believe? - Rated T; 2,574 words; SamBucky

Prompt 31: Halloween Party - Say Yes - Rated G; 1,703 words; SamBucky

And, just like that, we're done!! Thank you to everyone who read along, commented, left kudos, and sent me encouragement in any form along the way! It has been a joy to share these fics with all of you, and I'm so happy that we've made it to the end! I will be taking a rest for the first week of November, but expect updates to the multichapter fics in this list throughout November, possibly into December? Idk, we'll get them updated and shared with you dears. Thank you again so much for reading and enjoying this Advent Event of mine! Have a happy and safe and wonderful Halloween!

[rogueddie]

Friends With Benefits Steddie Fics

Important: READ THE TAGS! Also, leave a comment and kudos! These fics are amazing and I love them and I hope y'all do too 👀

let me be your (every)thing

starsdontsleep

Nancy has broken up with Jonathan and the moment Eddie hears the news, he realises his "thing" with Steve is about to be over.

Words : 2,882 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Teen and Up Audiences (Mature)

AO3 : x

tangled up in barbed wire love

twelvexclara

“You’re so fucking—”

Before he can finish what he’s saying, Eddie grabs him by the shoulder, switches their position. Presses him into the door harshly and his head thumps back into the wood, sends a spike of something through his veins. He’s got a forearm at Steve’s throat, digging into his pulse point.

Daring him to say something.

He blinks dizzily up at Eddie, ignores the hinge digging into his back. They share breath, panting at each other, frozen for a moment. Steve’s heart is a hummingbird in his chest and he hopes, prays even, that Eddie can’t feel it.

Words : 39,260 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Explicit

AO3 : x

Say Something Stupid

murdertrashbabyrat

Fuck.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, shit fuck, goddamnit.

Steve cannot fucking believe he’s realizing this right now, when he is literally inside Eddie, cannot believe he is watching this man smoke a goddamn joint as he rides him and thinking oh shit, I love him.

Words : 6,159 Chapters : 4/4 Rating : Explicit

AO3 : x

It was only a kiss

corrodedbisexual (mishabawlins)

Steve and Eddie's nighttime coping with the horrors of their past brings them close in ways Eddie never would have expected. But that's all it is. Moments of mutual comfort, a fun distraction from the endless string of nightmares.

...Or is it?

Words : 5,377 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Mature

AO3 : x

if my body told the truth

literaldisneyprincess

“Hey, hi Eddie, hey, it’s Steve. Uh, do you know anything about cats?” he asks.

There’s a pause. “Steve, did you get a cat?”

Words : 19,321 Chapters : 3/3 Rating : Explicit

AO3 : x

Friends and Benefits, and Maybe Something More

oddermoths

“You know Harrington,” Eddie set his arm on the armrest of the chair. “If you weren’t straight, I’d kiss you silly right now.”

“Then do it,” Steve found himself saying before he could think.

Or, Steve and Eddie enter into a friends with benefits relationship, and Steve finds himself wanting more.

Words : 6,445 Chapters : 5/5 Rating : Teen and Up Audiences

AO3 : x

How to Be a Heartbreaker

literaldisneyprincess

Steve has a plethora of methods under his belt for getting his conquests to leave soon after they’re both satisfied. He’s used them all, with varying rates of success.

He doesn’t have much experience in getting someone to stay.

Words : 8,715 Chapters : 4/4 Rating : Mature

AO3 : x

Are You Flagging?

soidade

“Look, I’m just asking, okay? Not– I don't mean anything by it. But, uh.” His eyes darted back and forth, then he leaned in close to Steve. Steve had gotten used to that, kind of. The guy had no concept of personal space. “Are you flagging?” Eddie finally finished.

Steve shook his head slowly, eyes narrowed. He had no idea what that meant. He had no answer. “What?”

Eddie leaned away from Steve, facing forward again and nodding. “Okay, got it. That answers my question. Carry on.”

Words : 40,991 Chapters : 17/17 Rating : Explicit

AO3 : x

[hishumanbellestories]

The Devil’s Melody.

Chapters: 1. | 2. | 3. | 4. | 5. | 6. | 7. | 8. | 9. | 10. | 11. | 12. | 13. | 14. | 15. | 16. | 17. | 18. | 19. |

His promise lingered in the air, heavy with devotion, dangerous in its finality.

But your fear didn’t vanish so easily.

Alastor had claimed you—but what if fate wasn’t done with you yet?

What if Heaven still had its chains wrapped around you?

What if Hell had its own price?

And worst of all…

What if he was taken from you?

Your fingers curled into his coat, grounding yourself in his presence. He was here. Now. Holding you.

But how long would that last?

Alastor wasn’t oblivious. He felt your hesitation, your fear, the way your body pressed close but your soul trembled.

And it enraged him.

Not at you.

At whatever force still dared to try and keep you apart.

Would fate really test him again?

Would it really be foolish enough to take you from him now, after all this time?

His grip on you tightened.

No.

He would not allow it.

But neither of you knew what lay ahead.

The bond would not stop.

It was not satisfied with a kiss.

Not content with a mere reunion.

No—this force that had chased you both through lifetimes, through death and rebirth, was demanding more.

It burned in your veins, in his, in every stolen breath between you.

It wanted to consume, to merge, to pull you together so completely that nothing—not Heaven, not Hell, not even fate itself—could ever tear you apart again.

And you felt it.

It was changing you.

Your angelic soul, once so pure, untouched, was becoming something else—something that should not exist.

And Alastor?

He had never been meant to love like this.

Never been meant to have something so divine, to need it as he needed you now.

But the bond didn’t care about what should and should not be.

It only cared about completion.

And so it pulled.

It pushed.

Further. Deeper.

Alastor felt it like fire in his blood, like a song he could not resist, like madness clawing at the edges of his mind—

And he let it take him.

Because if this was madness, he wanted to drown in it.

And then—

The sky split open.

A light, blinding and terrible, poured into the depths of Hell.

And from it—

They came for you.

Heaven had felt the shift.

Heaven had felt the bond changing you.

And it would not allow it.

Would not allow him to keep you.

Alastor’s grip on you turned vice-like, his breath coming sharp and ragged, his red eyes going wild with rage.

They would not take you.

They would not undo what had already begun.

Heaven had come to take you away.

You felt it before you saw them—an unbearable pull, a force gripping your very soul, trying to tear you from Alastor’s grasp.

But he wouldn’t let go.

Not this time.

His claws dug into your skin, his body coiled like a predator ready to kill.

And then—

They spoke.

"This is not your place, child."

The voice was not cruel. It was not harsh.

But it was absolute.

"You are still one of us."

Alastor’s grip tightened. A sharp, broken laugh spilled from his lips—one that held nothing of his usual amusement.

"Oh, is she?", his voice was sweet, poisoned honey, laced with something lethal. "You’ve had lifetimes to keep her. And yet…", his grin stretched wide, too wide. "She always finds her way back to me."

Your heart pounded, caught between two forces, between two worlds.

The light surrounding you burned.

You should go.

You should listen.

And yet—

Your body refused to move.

Because leaving would mean one thing:

Losing him again.

And that?

That was unbearable.

Tears burned in your eyes. "I can’t—"

"You must."

No.

No, you would not.

Your hands grasped Alastor’s arms, your fingers curling into the fabric of his coat, desperate.

"Tell me to stay." Your voice trembled. "Tell me you need me."

Something shattered in his gaze.

He had spent lifetimes fighting this, retreating, denying, trying to keep his grip on the power he had always known.

But he had already lost the moment he had tasted you.

His voice was raw when he spoke.

"I need you more than I need my own damn soul."

The decision was made.

And so you tore your wings from Heaven’s grasp.

Pain unlike anything you had ever known ripped through you.

Your light—your divinity—was burning away, unraveling like thread as you fell.

And Alastor caught you.

Arms wrapped around you, holding you so tightly you could barely breathe—

Or maybe it was because you were no longer the same.

Heaven’s doors slammed shut above you.

And you—

You were his now.

Entirely.

Forever.

[sashaisready]

This Must Be The Place: Chapter 17 - You got a face with a view

Biker!Bucky x Femme Reader

Back at your beloved late grandmother's home to pack up her house, you have a run-in with the town's biker gang 'The Howling Commandos' and find yourself entangled with the metal armed President.

Series Masterlist

Warnings: None, bit angsty

This is a Bucky POV! Bit of a shorter chapter but I thought it might be nice to get some of his insight before we hurtle towards the finish line…

Just to let you know I’m going on vacation early next week for a week, so I’m not sure when the next update will be – so please bear with me! If I don’t manage before, I will post once I’m back w/c 8th July. As always, your reblogs and comments mean the world – thank-you for coming along for the ride!

Bucky sighed heavily as he watched your car become a small dot on the horizon. He couldn’t believe he had found you out here, he was only passing through after dealing with some MC business on the edge of town. What were the chances it would be him to find you, of all the people who drove by this way?

He had been confused to see a car parked up in the middle of nowhere, miles from anything, only to feel bile rising in his throat when he recognised that distinct Mustang.

He thought something might have happened to you, relief crashing over him in waves when he saw your bewildered face staring back at him through the window. He managed to maintain his composure even when he saw the beginnings of a bruise on your cheek, despite the rage that simmered in his body. But he could see you were upset, maybe even a little scared, so he managed to push his own feelings aside. He didn’t want to distress you any further, but had a strong idea of who might have led you into this precarious position...

You wouldn’t let him help you. He had half expected it, but he still scoffed that you’d rather stay out here alone than take what was being offered. But…he also kinda got it. He was stubborn too. He understood that you didn’t want to be vulnerable in front of him, didn’t want him to think everything between you would now be forgiven.

He didn’t push you. He knew you well enough to understand that badgering you would only strengthen your resolve to stay put.

He just wanted you to be safe.

It didn’t even occur to him to leave. That was never a possibility. He did consider calling the guys and arranging a tow for your car, or for a ride for you, but he thought you might not want him meddling without asking. And he knew you wouldn’t want your car taken back to his auto shop, wouldn’t want another link to him – and you might think he’d done it on purpose to get you to talk to him.

Fixing Sally at roadside was his best bet. Then you would be alright but could still leave on your own accord. He’d tell Steve to bring his toolbox and he’d try his luck with you in the morning. Maybe Steve could throw in some food and water, too. You’d need it after sleeping in a car all night.

He had grimaced about his bed (or lack thereof) for the evening, but he’d done worse. It was one night. And it was worth it for watching over you and keeping you safe.

He wasn’t worried about passersby or getting jumped, his reputation preceded him enough that nobody within a 100-mile radius would dare even approach him if they saw him here.

It had sucked. It had been shit. He probably got two or three hours' sleep, max, but he’d done it. And as you gawped at him the next day, still beautiful in the morning light even though you were bruised and dishevelled, he knew it had all been worth it. And it had warmed him slightly that he’d caught a glimpse of awe in your eyes when you realised what he’d done for you.

Every part of him wanted to follow you as you got back into the car, to tell you how he really felt and how deep his feelings really were. Your casual relationship was never just casual to him. He had fallen for you, hard, maybe since day one. He had tried to fight it, tried to remind himself that it always had an expiration date and he shouldn't fall too deep... but being with you was the most natural thing in the world to him. Watching you smile at the bar, stolen glances across the room, waking up with you in his arms…they were some of the happiest days of his life.

That was partly why he was so upset when he thought you’d stolen, it had broken his heart as well as his trust. He’d always had a problem with impulsivity, with flying off the handle, giving into urges and emotions without thinking it through. Maybe part of him wanted to sabotage what the two of you had so it would be easier when you eventually left him. He had a few ideas like that, but still didn't fully understand why he did it. But he knew for certain, checking that purse was the biggest mistaken he’d ever made. He had to live with that. He understood that.

But maybe he should tell you all this. What did he have to lose, really? You were leaving, anyway. Once that house was on the market it was game over. It would be snatched up quickly, and then you’d be gone from this town, and his life, forever. At least he’d know if he’d done everything he could, he wouldn’t be an old man on his porch years later wistfully wondering if things could’ve been different had he told you the truth.

No. That wasn’t fair. To truly love you means respecting your wishes, and letting you go. Even if it hurts every fibre of his being to do so. Even if he’s desperate to grab you and kiss you every time he’s in close proximity to you. It would be selfish of him to dump his feelings on you like that. If he’d learnt anything from the misery of the last few months, it was that he needed to put you first – even if it wasn’t what he wanted.

He could live with the pain. He’d managed it so far. He had suffered and he would continue to suffer. This was his punishment, for not trusting you, for not believing you. It would follow him to his grave.

There had been nobody else since. No Amber. None of the girls at the bar. Sure, he’d had offers, but he simply wasn’t interested. They’d only remind him that they weren’t you.

When he heard about Quill, it felt like he'd taken a bullet to the gut. Actually, it felt worse than that. Bucky had been shot a couple of times and he'd happily take another bullet over that specific brand of pain. It was more painful than when he lost his arm. He nearly vomited on the spot when Steve told him. Since then, he had been a shadow of his former self, even if he (mostly) put on a good front to continue his role as President.

None of it mattered. You were selling up and moving on, and all that was left to do was let you go. You can’t keep a bird in a cage just because you don’t want to lose it. Keeping something that doesn’t want to be kept means you never really had it in the first place.

He had told you he wouldn’t touch Quill, but he seethed inwardly as he thought about the unsightly bruise and how it got there. How you ended up in your heels and evening dress at the side of the road. You had warned him not to do anything, and he wouldn’t. He respected your wishes. But once you’d gone? Well. That might be a different story. He already knew where Quill worked. Where he lived. Where he hung out. Who his friends were. The statute of limitations on Bucky’s promise to you would run out the day you left him forever.

He cranked his aching neck and pumped his metal arm back in place as he got back on his bike. Life must go on.

But he had one thing left to do.

[wonderer399]

Sebastian : Why he is Perfect for Ciel

Ever since I was in the black butler back in 2015, I was like 17 years old...I was obsessed with BB...I shipped Sebaxciel very hard, I still do and will continue to do it and none of your petty 'anti' opinions will make me change my mind like ever. You are free to judge me and I will judge you 'anti' back as well...You guys think that you are being 'self righteous' ? Tbh in reality you guys exactly sound like 'Alicent Hightower' from 'House of the Dragon' after she was living her miserable life with her 3 annoying kids and had to stick her nose into Rhaenera's bussiness because her 'morals' goes against what Rhaenera was doing....Therefore, stop being annoying and you guys better keep your own opinion to yourselves...I'm 25 now...and I will still ship SebaXciel..until my last breath...I may start the fandom very late , however I have more sense and adulting going on my brain to judge what is 'right' and what is 'wrong'...and what should be kept in the 'greyzone'

I have always defended Sebastian, still do and will always be defending him because he deserves it. Sebastian and Ciel both NEED each other. You guys might think Sebastian NEEDS ciel more...its the other way around ..CIEL NEEDS SEBASTIAN and without Sebastian HE CAN NOT SURVIVE A DAY WITHOUT BEING KIDNAPPED!!!!! OR WORSE BEING KILLED!!!! SEBASTIAN IS CIEL'S LIFE SUPPORT!!!

Sebastian keeps to be surprisingly being 'Kind' towards 'Ciel' by every chapter and each chapter their bond becomes stronger than ever, mostly because due to Agni's influence. And I remember exactly Ciel saying that 'If my soul He wants, then I will make sure to get my revenge properly'...Ciel KNOWS what did he sign up for with sebastian !!! CIEL MAY LOOK LIKE A CHILD ...BUT MENTALLY HE CAN SELL ADULTS IN THE BLACK MARKETS 10 TIMES WITHOUT ANY HESITATION THOSE WHO ARE AGAINST HIM ....He is that cunning!!! We have seen Ciel's Kind side as well...Ciel and Sebastian both knows when and to whom to be 'cunning' or 'Kind'...Both Sebastian and Ciel are Extremely Extremely cunning and will and does 'BEND' the rules of the game at their own advantage through their extremely calculated and refined dirty tricks and schemes ....Playing fair is not their 'concern' ... but 'winning' is ....if Ciel is the 'King' in the Chessplayer, Sebastian is the Ultimate Cheat code and Chessboard in the game ....and pawns are the other characters ....Sebastian can't be the pawn ...Sebastian simply sets up the helpful environment for Ciel to win...Sebastian simply assists Ciel in his own game ....

Sebastian is the STRICTEST, SMARTEST, GENTLEST and NICEST ( may not be the kindest ...but he is still trying his best ...he gives me more like 'TOUGH LOVE' vibes your asian households will give off ) guy to be able pull up with all of Ciel's bratty tantrums .... ( if you even dare to give off the same exact attitude to your parents as Ciel does to sebby time to time....In the white household you won't be affected that much but in the black/latina/asian household, parents will start beating with flipflops no more attitudes.... compared to that Ciel is in 'heaven' as Sebby keeps tolerating ) Sebastian STAYS with Ciel through thick and thin ...Sebby never EVER abondons Ciel ( I don't count filler episodes of season 1 because its not Cannon ) ....Sebby is not that kind of 'mannerless' character who would force himself into 'Ciel's' arm ..sebby HIGHLY VALUES MANNERS,GRACEFULNESS and AESTHETICS...Sebby knows his self worth... we even see sebby getting 'blushed' cheeked whenever ciel compliments him for his good work and that what motivates sebby to stay with ciel through their journey together...they both appriciate, tolerate, they get and understand each other and the same time they are very fond of each other as well...

In the emerald witch arc, it is very evident that when sebby saw ciel was at his worst state ...sebby gone mad and destroyed the entire german military single handedly...ciel is very PRECIOUS to him...once ciel realized how sad Sebby would have felt when he kept rejecting sebby touch...after waking up from psychic trauma, Ciel immidiately compansated sebby with constantly 'touching' sebby 'affectionately' ...its like the two lovers being aparted for wayy too long and when they meet again, they can't let go of each other that easily...their bond just keeps getting stronger...and yall antis be burning lol ...because we shippers got the latest TEA DATE in the chapter 212 !! in the victorian era it was not 'acceptable' to sit 'butlers' and 'noble man' together ...let alone sipping tea and flirting with each other...its so sad that you guys don't like something that's fine! ...but don't dictate us and don't rubb your moral dicks into our faces ...keep it in your pockets

SEBA X CIEL IS THE GREATEST UNCONDITIONAL LOVE SHIP EVER!!! THIS IS THE PUREST FORM OF LOVE !!! SEBBY LOVES CIEL FOR HIS SOUL POTENTIAL REGARDLESS OF HIS GENDER OR HIS AGE!! SEBBY IS WILLING TO WAIT FOREVER AS LONG AS IT TAKES FOR CIEL TO TAKE HIS REVENGE!!! SEBBY RESPONDED TO CIEL'S CALLING IN THE 1ST PLACE !!

[shewhohangsoutincemeteries]

once again, we've reached a new year, and while I can't guarantee a new me who might actually release new fanfiction with some semblance of regularity, I can promise that I will keep writing and posting as often as my life allows. I want to thank all of you who read, like, respond and especially reblog my work, and I hope that you enjoy anything on this list you may of missed, and keep enjoying the new work I keep on posting. happy new year everyone!

full content warnings and content can be found on each individual post, and each fic is labelled for length. follow me on bartonstark to find all my fic in one place, or check out my ao3. smut/sexual content: *** personal favourites: ///

BRUCE BANNER:

interlude (ficlet) *** you steal a heated moment with bruce in the lab.

BUCKY BARNES:

keep quiet (ficlet) *** /// against his better judgement, bucky lets you seduce him in a public place.

warm embrace (ficlet) bucky takes pity on you in the cold.

CLINT BARTON:

appreciation (oneshot) *** /// you borrow clint's shirt and he shows you just how much he approves.

make your move (oneshot) /// you discover clint's real feelings for you and dare him to do something about it.

stay still (ficlet) clint comes to your aid after you're injured on the battlefield.

whatever you need (ficlet) *** /// after a mission gone wrong, clint gives you everything you need.

MARC SPECTOR:

bubble bath (ficlet) sometimes, self care includes bubbles.

starving (ficlet) *** marc has alternate plans for dinner.

NATASHA ROMANOFF:

smile (ficlet) you distract natasha in the middle of a meeting.

PETER QUILL:

chilly (ficlet) /// you're not quite used to just how cold it is in space.

rom-com moment (ficlet) *** even a storm can't convince quill to keep his hands -or his feelings- to himself.

STEVEN GRANT:

raindrops keep falling (ficlet) a busted umbrella leads to a meet cute.

TONY STARK:

downpour (ficlet) *** tony has his way with you against a window as you watch the rain.

favor (ficlet) you convince tony to finally get some rest.

ink (ficlet) you surprise tony when he finally comes home to you.

missed you (ficlet) tony wakes you up in the middle of the night.

most people (oneshot) /// tony can't believe you're the kind of person who doesn't like hugs.

pride (ficlet) *** tony takes a lot of pride in what he does to you.

voice of reason (ficlet) in a reversal of roles, tony's the one to convince you to go to bed.

waking up with you (ficlet) *** tony has only one thing on his mind in the mornings.

THREESOMES/POLYAMORY:

ladies first (clint barton x natasha romanoff x reader) *** /// natasha has strict rules when it comes to play.

plaything (tony stark x marc spector x reader) *** /// you invite an old boyfriend to help teach your new one a lesson.

SERIES:

just to be nearby (peter quill x reader) *** /// months after the battle of earth, peter is still wallowing in his loss of gamora. he begins to find comfort in you.

just to be nearby

closer still

to ashes chapters (full series, this year's chapters in bold) *** /// after the snap, you volunteer to track down clint and bring him home. instead, you join him on his mission for blood and find yourself growing closer to him... prologue - 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - 6 - 7 - 8 - 9 - 10 - 11 - 12 - 13 - 14 - 15 - 16 - 17 - 18 - 19 - 20 - 21 - 22 - 23 - 24 - 25 - 26 - 27 - 28 - 29 - 30 - 31 - more coming soon

tag list: @lovely-dreamer19 @wittyforachange @wefracturedmotivation @january-echoes @glossyloner @capitalnineteen @youclickedthislink @s0ftness @castieltrash1 @drakelover78 @queenoftheunderdark @fandoms-pizza-wifi-ym13 @lol-you-thought @sebbystanlover-vk @trekkingaroundasgard @mikariell95 @csigeoblue @abrunettefangirlnerd @babyblues915 @aar-journey @moistpotatobear @bellamyblakemorley @diesinspanishbcimhispanic @sentimentalalien @agustdowney @akumune @xxboesefrauxx @ccbsrmsf1 @patheticallysentimental @loki-is-loved @blue-chup @darsynia @katsies @youralphawolf72 @maenji @rhymesmenagerie @gwianasky @melaclintbartoncorner @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @marvelwomen-simp @bombardia @bellarkeselection @hollymac79 @dragon-chica