#like not even having to live alone I think living with roommates gets a similar enough experience

[the-bluestreak-cat]

My extremely personal red flag is if you’ve never lived independently.

Do not open tags it’s just a personal vent and I hit the tag limit (30) and that’s never happened to me before ajskdlf

[p3sephone]

My baby. (Dark! Ex! Wanda Maximoff x reader)

Prologue

Summary: you are Wanda's ex and you broke up with her a long time ago. Then Wanda decides it's a good idea to become your neighbor and take her baby back, one way or another.

Warnings: this is a dark! Serie about Wanda Maximoff that will contain dark themes such as violence, breaking in, non-con and similar stuff in the future chapters. Every chapter will have its own warnings to be safe. This is pure fiction and this character does not belong to me. Minors are NOT allowed, only +18. Any kind of interactions such as reblogs, comments or likes are much welcome and appreciated. 🤎

Prologue warnings: breaking inside, little use of magic.

Masterlist serie.

"I'm home!" you exclaimed with a smile on your face, closing the door behind you. You were happy to be back, you had a wonderful surprise for your roommate. You were sure that she hadn't suspected anything, after all you hadn't mentioned anything in these weeks and you knew how difficult it was. You had lost count of how many gifts and surprises you had ruined because you often spoke before thinking out of excitement.

But this time you didn't think, as you walked briskly towards the living room. The lights were on, she was surely sitting there on the couch watching some movie. You were already anticipating the scene. Your smile quickly dropped as the gift bag slipped from your hand and fell to the floor. The personalized mug inside had surely broken into a thousand pieces, but that was now the least of your problems.

Your roommate was lying there, apparently asleep, but you knew that wasn't the case. Not when Wanda was sitting on the other side of the couch with her arms crossed, then looking straight into your eyes. She had a small smile on her face, sly and arrogant you would say, but you could see all the hatred hidden behind her eyes. You were together, as teenagers, a long time ago. Wanda had lost everything, you too: you had regained everything and left Wanda behind, and Wanda had lost what was left of her, left with total nothingness. Considering that you had left her too. Or at least, that was what Wanda thought; in reality, your version would have been very different from hers, but you weren't really sure she wanted to hear it and even less that she was interested. "What are you doing in my house?" your own cold tone surprised you. It was as if someone else was talking to you and you didn't know how your knees could still hold up. But Wanda wasn't stupid, she could feel how your heart was beating like crazy, this still allowed her to act arrogant. She stood up from your couch and walked over to your boyfriend’s sleeping form, approaching you and freely ignoring your question.

“Is this your house? Our apartment was better.” It was a suggestion, obviously. It wasn’t the first time Wanda had tried to make you change your mind and tell you that the two of you were meant to be together, and at first you believed it. The first, the second and even the third time. Then you finally realized that she would tell you anything and lie shamelessly just to have you back by her side and reduce you to an object again.

You had loved that woman, but it was over. And she had to understand that.

“No, this house is better, with my roommate who I sincerely hope will wake up soon.” You made a suggestion and she immediately took it, laughing in your face.

“She’ll be fine, I just put her to sleep... I wanted to be alone with you, I missed you.” she said playing with your hair, and you could almost see the sincerity in her now slightly sad face. But you couldn't fall for it again and you had certainly been through too much because of her.

"But I haven't missed you, Wanda. Get out of my house."

You had caught her attention now, her fingers slowly stopped playing with your hair finally letting it go. Now you saw the real Wanda. Her hateful gaze with a red aura was intensely scrutinizing you and you swore they could see much more than your eyes or your face. Her eyes immediately became clear again and Wanda gave you a sweet smile, waving her right hand and using her magic. You remembered what that magic had done to you, you still had the scars.

"I can also go out, after all we will see each other every day. It's a pleasure to meet you again, neighbor!" she teased you giggling, then walking out of your door without you even accompanying her. You stood there in shock, standing numb in the doorway to the living room, watching the front door close and then the couch, where your roommate was now starting to wake up.

The nightmare had begun again.

[officialaemondtargaryen]

Never Gonna Be Alone - Part One

Summary: When a friend from college contacts you about renting out your empty, spare bedroom to her brother, you aren't really sure what to expect.

Pairing: Modern!Aegon Targaryen x Reader

Word Count: ~1.5k

Author's Note: I've been writing two horribly depressing stories simultaneously for a while now and I needed a break from the angst. I hope that you all enjoy this.

Warnings for the entire series: language, drug & alcohol use, pining & yearning, fluff, possible angst, and sexual content. Plus, me attempting to be a comedian.

Masterlist | Playlist

She said, "he's kind of messy in every aspect of his life, but he's fun to be around!" Then, she very positively followed that up with, "I think you two would really get along!"

You met Helaena in college, and to be honest, you really didn't know her that well. She was a friend of a friend who had been in a few of the same classes as you, went to the same bars, and had a similar taste in art and music. She'd like every selfie, or ask to borrow a book you posted about, but you had never really hung out alone together.

So when your phone started ringing on a Friday night, after you were already three margaritas deep and swimming in queso dip at your cousin's birthday party, and it was Helaena Targaryen's name flashing across the screen, you were admittedly concerned; though, you'd always known her to be a pretty sincere person, so you took her word for it when she said that you should let her older brother move into the empty, second bedroom of your apartment. It might have been the tequila, or the fact that you were just that desperate, but you immediately agreed to her proposition without question.

You had been trying to rent the room out for months when it became impossible to afford the luxury of living alone, but every person that was interested happened to fall through for one reason or another. You had even offered a discounted rate (as the bedroom was smaller than yours and there was only one bathroom and it was a Jack-and-Jill), but you still couldn't find a good fit.

Enter Aegon Targaryen.

Suddenly, a guy whom you could only describe as 'that has to be Helaena's brother', was knocking on your door a week later. There was beat up Wrangler sitting on the curb behind him filled to the roof with cardboard boxes, and a tiny U-Haul hitched to the bumper with what little bit of furniture he had. He looked at you, blinked a few times and said, "I'm Aegon." You introduced yourself and he nodded; there were no pleasantries, no hand shakes or smiles. He just walked into your apartment, looked around, and then started moving his things in.

It was mid-July, so obviously there were better things you could be doing with your time than helping a complete stranger move his things into your home during a drought and a heat wave. Yet, you slid on your sandals and got to work after you had started to feel bad that you were sitting pretty in the air conditioning while your new roommate struggled alone in the humidity.

It didn't take long until the only thing left was his mattress. You weren't even sure how he got that monstrosity stuffed into the tiny trailer in the first place. It was ridiculously bulky and much heavier than it needed to be, but he swore that it was the most comfortable mattress you'd ever lay on in your life- a fact that you would just have to take his word for. You struggled, a lot, but put on a brave face as Aegon did most of the heavy lifting in the back and you navigated up front.

As you were coming up the porch steps with your sunglasses sliding off of your face as you dripped with sweat, and your arms tired from hours of heavy lifting (saving the heaviest for last, which was a terrible idea), you ended up missing the stoop completely and landing on your ankle awkwardly. You played it off until you had gotten the mattress onto his bed frame, and then silently cried about it in your now shared bathroom; quietly cursing the economy for forcing this situation upon you. Later that night as you were sitting on the couch, with your swollen ankle elevated on a couple of throw pillows, your new roommate tosses a bag of frozen peas in your lap and continues into his room with a bowl of cereal for dinner.

"Thanks," you called after him but only heard the sound of his bedroom door closing in reply.

Over the next few weeks you observed quite a bit about Aegon Targaryen. You knew which spoon was his favorite, how he preferred his tea, that he washed his hair with tea tree shampoo, and enjoyed mint chocolate chip ice cream. He cut the crust off of his sandwiches when he ate them at home, but when he packed his lunch he left them on. He could drink an entire box of wine by himself, but he typically stopped after two glasses, and he always asked if you wanted him to pour you one. He talked to his siblings a lot, but never his parents, and he really enjoyed watching dog videos on his phone while sitting on the couch as you tried to watch your show.

And when he laughed, he belly laughed, and you couldn't help but smile softly to yourself when he did.

Despite how taciturn he may have been, he was still good company, even if you were just sitting on opposite ends of the sofa doing your own thing. He always thanked you when you would leave leftovers in the fridge with a sticky note that had his name on it, and you started making sure that you made enough for two. When he came home late on the weekends, he tried his absolute hardest to do so quietly, but with those hardwood floors, it was almost impossible. He'd wake you up every single time, but you would never say anything. It was hardly an inconvenience after the many nights you'd fall asleep to the sound of him softly strumming his guitar in the next room.

And yet, you just couldn't help but wait for the other shoe to drop. Because it had to, right? Surely this would be a nightmare; God finally sending a punishment for your sins and giving him the face of a literal angel for shits and giggles. You weren't entirely convinced he wasn't Karma-In-Disguise, as the only other option was just too good to be true. It just couldn’t be that you agreed to live with someone you had previously never met simply because someone that you really didn’t know said you should and by some miracle it actually worked out? 

Absolutely not.

You were not that lucky. 

One morning you woke to find Aegon in the kitchen, standing at the counter, making himself a cup of tea. He had already brewed a pot of coffee for you and there was a box of assorted pastries sitting on the table, one of which he was holding between his teeth as he poured a splash of milk into his cup. He turned to you, leaning against the counter and took a bite out of his scone.

"What's this?" You quirked an eyebrow as you studied the scene.

"A 'thank you', I s'pose," he shrugged, voice deep with residual exhaustion. He scratched at the short stubble on his chin, almost nervously, "It's been like a month since I moved in ‘ere, and, to be honest, I wasn't really expectin’ you to let me stay longer than a week."

You laughed softly and took a few steps deeper into the kitchen, taking note of how comfortable the space was with his presence in it. You couldn't ignore the way your pulse quickened at the sight of him in this light; the way the soft, morning sun bounced off of his blonde hair like a halo. He stayed right where he was as you moved around him; his tired, blue eyes following as you grabbed your favorite mug and a spoon from the drawer.

"To be honest, I wasn't expecting you to want to stay," you mentioned as you stood next to him and added two scoops of sugar to your cup. Your eyes flickered up to meet his stare, which was so blue you might as well have been looking up at the sky itself. "We're basically strangers."

"I wouldn't say that," he shrugged, lips curling into a small smirk, and you had to stop looking at him before you spilled coffee all over yourself.

"Oh? What are we then?" You asked, feeling your cheeks warming slightly as you averted your gaze.

"Not strangers," you could hear the smirk in his tone; his gaze lingering for a moment longer before he took another bite of his pastry and pushed himself off the counter. "Besides," he added, taking a few steps towards the living room before glancing back at you. "A stranger wouldn't know your favorite bakery."

You laughed softly through your nose, realizing that your new roommate had just confessed to eavesdropping on your late-night FaceTime calls with your best friend. Not that he really had a choice—the walls were paper-thin, after all. Just two days ago, you’d mentioned how badly you were craving a chocolate croissant, but how they always seemed to sell out before you could get one. Now, as you flipped open the top of the cardboard box, your stomach sank. A sudden jolt of realization shot through you, followed by a nauseating wave of panic. 

There they were. 

Four chocolate croissants, neatly packed and staring back at you.

“Fuck.”

[justmeinadaze]

Hi! I’m 23 but requesting anonymously because this is a similar situation I experienced and wished someone would have been there for me.

I was wondering if you would be interested in writing a Steddie x reader story where the reader recently lost her grandma who she lived with in a two bedroom apartment. It’s left the reader financially strapped and she posts an ad for a roommate. Steve and Eddie are looking for a place and sees the ad. Steve is a nurse and Eddie is a mechanic or masseuse (two extremes but I feel like Eddie is always a mechanic lol).

The reader is really withdrawn and struggling with grief because her grandma was all she had. She is working two jobs and not taking care of herself. She wears herself out and gets sick. She’s really resistant to letting anyone take care of her. And she doesn’t talk to Steve and Eddie much because she’s trying to hide her struggles and doesn’t want to bother them. And it’s an adjustment to living with other people. Steve and Eddie have a huge soft spot for the reader and want to take care of her.

There can be smut or no smut in this or if it would happen to turn into two or more parts! You’re a talented writer so I have no doubt you will write this beautifully!

A/N: It took me awhile to get to this because it struck a cord with me. I get this. I am this minus a Steve and Eddie.

I think I've mentioned it before but my father suddenly passed away 10 years ago and it destroyed me. I still deal with the aftermath of that to this day. Not only do I struggle with that grief but I struggle with how I was and have been treated which is why I am a big advocate on taking the time to feel what you feel and no matter what anyone says THERE IS NO TIME LIMIT ON GRIEF.

The doctor experience I write in this story happened to me and the chaos of that...I can't even... But yeah...more than anything I want anyone who's grieving a loved one to know, you are not alone, you are not broken, your feelings are valid, and I love you <3.

The title of this comes from "Guernica" by Brand New. I was thinking of this song when I got the request because the lead singer wrote it for his grandfather who was sick in the hospital.

P.S. I am more than willing to write another part to this. I wanted to focus on the emotional aspect more than a smutty aspect for this first part.

Warnings: Topic of Grief and loss of a family member, panic attack mentioned in slight detail, Steve and Eddie have an established relationship here.

"I submit no excuse

If this is what I have to do

I owe you every day I wake

If I could I would shrink myself

Sink through your skin to your blood cells

Remove whatever makes you hurt

But I am too weak to be your cure

Is this the way a toy feels when its batteries run dry?

I am the watch you always wear but you forget to wind."

“So, um, yeah the rent is $1300 including utilities and it’s due on the first of the month. You can leave it on the counter here and I can take it down to make the payment.”

Watching them go through her room was like being stabbed in the chest. When your grandmother passed, a part of you died with her and it killed you even more when you had to slowly begin removing things from her room to make space for a new roommate. Your grandma was your everything basically being a mother to you when everyone else disappeared. When she got sick it, it was no brainer to have her move in so you could look out for her with as much love and care as she had you growing up. 

For four years, she fought her disease until heaven decided it was time for her to go home. After that you began to spiral and not just personally but within life. When did everything become so expensive? Even in your rent-controlled apartment, you could barely afford the bills because everything else around you escalated to the point where now you couldn’t even take out a small loan to get groceries because your credit was so fucked up. 

You didn’t want to get a roommate and avoided the notion as long as possible but when it was becoming harder and harder to live day to day, you finally gave in. 

You were surprised when a boy answered your ad you had placed in the paper but when he told you their story, you couldn’t help but sympathize. 

“Yeah, my boyfriend and I are looking for a nice, safe place. The small town we were living in was already harassing him for the way he looks but when they found out we were together… I knew I needed to get us both out of there.”

“We can take it if you want. I don’t want you to feel like you have to take care of everything.”, the pretty boy who introduced himself as Steve responded as he leaned against the wall next to you.

“I mean it’s no problem. I work a couple of jobs so I usually leave pretty early anyway.”

“Me to. Well, it’s more like me coming in early because I work overnights from time to time. I’m not sure if the hospital over here is the same but… yeah. What, um, what do you think, babe?”

The longhaired boy who told you his name was Eddie beamed widely your way.

“I love it. Are you sure we won’t be bothering you, sweetheart? We’re nice guys, we swear.”

“No. No bother.”

Both men glance towards each other at your sullen tone before Steve extended his hand towards you with an equal large but soft smile of his own. 

“We’ll take it.”

***

You didn’t anticipate how hard it was going to be having someone in the apartment again let alone people that reminded you of her. Before she retired, your grandmother was a nurse and when the scent of hand sanitizer and hospital lingered on Steve’s admittedly beautiful hands, your mind shifted to the stories she would tell you about her late nights talking with patients in her care. 

Through smell alone, you learned Eddie got a job as a mechanic at the shop down the street and the first night when the aroma of gasoline lingered you cried at the memories of being a little girl with your grandparents, sitting by your grandfather’s truck as he attempted to fix it for the 400th time. 

Loneliness began to set in almost immediately after they moved in. They never actively displayed affection in front of you but there were moments when you were leaving for work and you’d pass by their open bedroom door to see them cuddled together. Sometimes at night when you would come home from your second job, you would hear Eddie talking to Steve over the phone while he was at work and he would giggle at something the man said on the other line before telling him how much he loved him. 

You missed having someone care about you…

Your grandparents had always been there for you through everything; every breakup, rough patch in life, or just to have someone remind you that you were loved unconditionally…they were there. 

When your grandmother lived with you, you laughed harder, smiled wider, and loved waking up in the morning. Now that all seemed so far away, so unattainable. You couldn’t ever picture yourself being happy like that again. 

To avoid that pain, you ran around constantly. It’s not like you could stop anyway with how hard things got around you. Life moves on…you can’t stop just because you’re numb. You suffer through it just like everyone else. 

“Y/N?”

At the sound of Eddie’s voice, you jumped shattering the glass in your hand.

“Fuck, I’m sorry—”

“No, no. That was my fault. You seemed lost in thought. Don’t move, I can clean this up here.”

Nodding, you stood still as you watched him run to grab a broom before your brain caught up with you.

“Wait! Wait, um, don’t…don’t throw away the glass. This was, um, someone in my family gave me this cup.”

“Oh, uh, ok. Well, I don’t see a lot of little pieces. I can try and fix it for you. Do you feel comfortable coming into our room?”

Silently, you headed in that direction, pausing in front of the bed as the metalhead shimmed around you to dig in the desk drawer by the window. Everything in the room was completely different. Where her bed with her yellow comforter used to be was now a bigger bed, higher off the ground with black sheets and blue pillowcases. Where her dresser used to be with the vanity that had photos taped to the mirror was now a much smaller 3 drawer shelf with a guitar hanging above it. On the nightstand, instead of medication and a photo of you with your grandparents, there was now a pack of cigarettes, empty beer cans, a photo of both men, and a book that was half read. 

“Ok, I knew Steve had it around here somewhere. I’m clumsy as hell so he’s always fixing things I accidently break.”, Eddie mused as he sat on the floor and began to focus on his task. “So, um, how are you?”

You couldn’t help but breathily laugh at the awkward way he asked that making him smirk at the sound as you took a seat in front of him.

“I’m alright. I just have a lot going on, you know?”

“Yeah, you come and go a lot like Steve but he gets to sleep. What do you do if I may ask?”

“I’m actually a photographer for the paper.”

“Oooo paparazzi girl!” Eddie’s grin grows as his eyes take you in watching you genuinely laugh for the first time since they met you. “Is that why you come and go at weird hours?”

“Oh, no. When I’m not there, I have another job at the mall taking photos of like families and kids at Glamour Shots.”

“Yeah? Those shiny, glimmering photos? I keep trying to get Steve to take a couple of those with me but he gets adorably embarrassed.”

“How long have you two been together?”

“Geez, uh, almost 3 years now. Spent the first couple hiding our relationship because of our town and his parents, rich fuckers who think they control the moral high ground.”, he rolls his eyes. “A few months ago, he finally told them we were together and his parents kicked him out of his house. A couple weeks later, I got harassed at my job and that was the final straw. Steve packed our things and we drove out here.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“No reason for you to be, princess. You’ve been nothing but nice to us. Well, when we see you.”, he chuckles. “Steve gets worried sometimes that you push yourself too hard.”

“You don’t need to worry about me. I’m strong. I’ll be ok.”

“No one’s saying your weak, Y/N.”

“Good because I’m not!” You snap as silence falls over the room before Eddie displays the cup for you with his palm on the bottom. 

“You may not want to use it for its purpose but keep it as a display.”

Without taking it from him, you rise to your feet and run to your room, slamming the door. 

###########

Everything was loud.

Why is everything so loud?

You were running late for your second job and you couldn’t find the polo you wore for it. You felt disgusting, not having time to shower in what felt like an eternity and you were just so fucking exhausted. You couldn’t afford to lose this job nor calling in to rest. You had to make money. It’s what everyone else does.

Why is everything so loud?

As you opened your door, you were met with Eddie standing at the counter in the kitchen. 

“Have, um, have you seen…”

“Y/N, are you alright?” Tears cloud your vision as you run your fingers through your hair and absently look around the apartment with your eyes. “BABE.”

You flinched at the metalhead’s loud but stern tone not even realizing that Steve was suddenly in front of you with his hands on your biceps. 

“Y/N, what’s going on?”

“Let me go! I have…I have to…to go to work…”, you sobbed before your legs gave out and the world went black. 

***

When your eyes finally fluttered open, it was pitch dark outside and your body felt incredibly drained. It felt like every bone in your body had become stiff as you carefully tried to sit up. 

“Hey, no, no, no. Don’t move to quickly or we’ll lose you again.”, Steve cooed softly as he came up from behind you and sat down on his knees to help adjust you. “Good. Here, drink some of this but not too fast.”

When he handed you the bottle of water, you gladly sipped it as his concerned eyes scanned you over. 

“How are you feeling?”

“Heavy.”

“I’m not surprised. When you push your body as hard as you have at some point it pushes back. Do you think you can eat something while we talk?”

When you nodded, a plate appeared beside you as Eddie handed it to his partner.

“I’m going to ask you some questions purely from a medical standpoint, ok? Do you feel comfortable if Ed stays? He had a bit of a panic attack to when we couldn’t wake you up.”

“That’s fine.”, you whisper. “Is that what happened? I panicked?”

“Um, kind of, honey. This kind of seems like a slow build so I would say anxiety attack. We know you work pretty much around the clock and you told me when I called that you were struggling with cash. Has anything else been going on?”

“Someone…that mattered to me…is gone. Died.”

Eddie sat on the couch next you and without thinking brushed some of your hair behind your ear so they could see your face better. 

“I’m sorry. How long ago?”, the nurse continued to inquire. 

“On the 18th it will be 8 months.”

“And you’ve been doing everything you have?! Y/N.”, the metalhead sighed as his boyfriend gave him a look of warning as if to say tread carefully. “Sweetheart, you should be taking it easy so you can grieve.”

“I can’t.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m supposed to be fine by now.”, you murmur as you shrug your shoulders. “After my grandmother died, I got 2 weeks paid leave for bereavement. Two weeks. Two weeks of fucking casseroles, sympathies, and people checking in. After that time, everyone began to slowly disappear and I went back to work but I never…I never felt whole. I didn’t understand why everyone else seemed fine while I was still felt like I was dying.”

“After two months, I went to a doctor and told them how I felt. Do you know what she said? ‘After 6 weeks, it’s no longer grief but depression.’ That shook me. I thought to myself ‘well shit. I guess there is a time limit on grieving and there must be something wrong with me because I can’t get better!’” 

The tears begin to fall at a faster pace and you let them go. 

“I still have to work, pay my bills, live my life… but no one ever walked me through how to do that. No one ever showed me how to continue existing without the person you love…without someone who meant the most to you… I wasn’t prepared to be left alone without her.”

Eddie presses your head to his chest as you sob, his arms squeezing you tightly as he whispered that you were ok. Sudden heat warmed your side as Steve leaned his head against your shoulder as he intertwined his fingers with yours while your body trembled against them. 

This had been a long time coming and you allowed the pain to wash over you till you fell asleep in their arms. 

***

This time when you opened your eyes, you were bundled up in a blanket with your head still against Eddie’s chest with one hand comfortingly rubbing your arm while the other held a book he was reading. 

“What are you reading?”

Tilting his head, his gentle eyes take you in as he grins and closes the book to show you the cover. 

The Vampire Lestat.

“I love vampires but Steve likes werewolves. Should have known he’d break my heart one day.”, he teased as the other boy comes around and places a soda with more food on the coffee table in front of you. 

“They are big dog like animals. How can you not like them? Y/N, I want you to at least eat a little bit of this, ok? You need to refuel.”

Not wanting to leave the metalheads comfortable embrace, you whine as you sit up until the smell of the pasta hits your nostrils and you realize how hungry you actually are. 

“Slow! Goodness.”, Steve chuckles as he takes a seat on floor after serving his partner and himself as well. 

“It’s been so long since I’ve had a home cooked meal. Usually, I’m eating microwaved food or something I pick up on the way to and from work. This is delicious, Steve, thank you.”

The three of you casually talk allowing you to really get to the know the men you had been living with. Eddie loved music and had been playing guitar since he was a little boy. He and his uncle had been fixing up cars since he moved in with him after his father went to jail. Steve learned in high school he enjoyed helping people and after he graduated he went to nursing school. 

“My dad gave me shit because I’m ‘settling’ and not becoming a doctor. I like what I do though. As a nurse I get more one on one with patients and make them feel cared for which as you noticed is hard in today’s society. Doctors seem to care more about the money and not the person.”

His eyes drink in your demeanor as you smile, agreeing with his words. Your entire energy seemed different since the first time they met you. You seemed to be relaxing a bit more and some of what he assumed was your normal personality began to shine through. 

“What about you, honey? Eddie told me you’re a photographer.”

Silently, you unraveled the blanket you had been tangled in and bounced to your bedroom, returning with some photos that you placed on the coffee table in front of them. 

“This man here proposed to this girlfriend by painting a mural on the side of an abandoned building that the city was going to tear down. The mayor called it graffiti and they tried arresting him for it.”

“Oh, wow. That’s gorgeous. I hope this guy is making a ton of money in like New York or something.”, the longhaired boy grins.

“This young lady saved her baby brother from a fire.”

“This are amazing, Y/N. You are extremely talented. “

 “What was this story about?”, Steve asked as he held up a photo of an older woman smiling on the couch by a window watching the rain. 

“That’s my grandma.”, you softly smile as you take it from his hands. “This was about a year before she… I remember we were talking about some trivial stuff and suddenly she turned to me and said ‘Life is beautiful. Even something as small as listening to the rain is never something you should take for granted.’”

“I like that.”, Eddie responded with a tender tone that made you feel safe. “She was right. I know it’s hard with all the bullshit going on in the world but… I think we do need to stop and take a look around, you know?”

“Y/N, honey, we hope you know that you don’t have to do everything yourself. We can help you. We have some money in savings if you need to take a break and—”

“No. No, I can’t ask you to do that.”

“You’re not asking, we’re offering.”, Steve insisted. “At least, quit your second job. You need a moment to breathe. We can help with any extra bills you may have until you really get back on your feet.”

Tilting forward, you kissed his cheek before leaning towards Eddie to do the same. 

“Thank you…so much…”

################

Over the next week, you felt more motivated to do things you hadn’t wanted to do over the past 8 months. You did what Steve suggested and quit your job at the mall. You began moving around and leaving the apartment for fun things instead of work. You accompanied the boys to a movie at the theater and took them to the lake where you basked in the sunlight all day. 

You took the time to eat healthier, home cooked meals even offering to make your roommates a meal every now and again. Sometimes when you knew Steve would be out all night, you left some leftovers in the refrigerator and wake up the next morning with a note on the counter thanking you with a big smiley face.

One morning, however, you were surprised with something different. When you opened your bedroom door to get some coffee, you noticed a box with a big red bow on the top and a piece of paper attached to the side. 

“Y/N,

There’s no bottom to the box so all you need to do is lift. I was afraid if we put this in an actual box it may break. Steve said it would be ok but I reminded him he fixes people not objects : ). 

Eddie’s been working on this for a while but we thought after how well you’ve been doing, we just wanted to show you how proud we are of you and how much we’ve enjoyed having you in our lives.

Eddie & Steve”

Carefully lifting the wrapped box and placing it aside, you picked up the glass you had dropped and Eddie had tried to fix. The blank material now had an image of your grandmother you had showed them illustrated on to it with her head turned towards the window. Instead of watching the rain, when she looked out the window there was a detailed drawing of you grinning with your fingers tangled in your hair as you were moving it behind your ear.

He had painted it with light colors, giving her an angelic glow that broke you as you began to cry.

Your feet scooted against the floor as you hurried towards their door and knocked on it a bit too enthusiastically causing it to fly open with a panicked look on the metalhead’s half asleep face. 

“What!? What’s going on? Where’s the fire?!”

You tackled your arms around his neck, not even realizing he was only in boxers. From the bed, Steve saw what was in your hand, smirking as he fell back against the pillow and slung his arm over his eyes.

“Thank you for this. You have no idea how much this means to me.”, you whispered. 

When he finally realized nothing was wrong, his arms settled around your waist.

“I know what it’s like to lose someone you love. You’re not alone, Y/N. You don’t have to carry it all by yourself, ok?” As you pull away and let him go, his hands cup your face as he dries your tears. “Now go back to bed, you fucking weirdo. It’s too early.”, he teases as he lightly pushes you away making you giggle as he turns back around and crawls into bed.

“May I—”

Before you can finish your sentence, he lifts up the covers and Steve pats the mattress between them. Once you climb in, the pretty boy lifts his arm and circles it around you to tug you closer to his side. When your head rests on his bare chest, your surprised at how warm and comfortable he feels against you, looping your arm around him as you nuzzle into his skin. Another set of arms wrap around your waist pressing you against Eddie’s equally comforting frame. 

His steady breath hitting your shoulder mixed with the other man’s heartbeat lulls you into the heaviest sleep you hadn’t experienced in a long time. 

#############

Steddie Asks

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for advising a woman to get married?

Maybe I'm digging my own grave because this website is very US centric but I'm hoping you see where I'm coming from. I (mid 20s M) come from a culture where arranged marriage is the norm. I have this friend Maya (early 20s F) who also comes from a similar culture, but the difference is that hers values consent more, whereas where I live, only the parents have a say in the matter. We also have a USAmerican friend Jade (late 20s F) who will make an appearance at the end.

Maya is a sex repulsed Ace, and she kept saying she will stay single forever. I know what the situation for women in her country is like, it would be very difficult to live without a husband. One day she made a vent post saying how her parents keep asking her to reconsider, that they are worried about her being alone for the rest of her life, and her father is worried about who will financially support her after he dies.

She didn't come out to her parents, no use of doing it since they won't even understand what Asexuality is. All she did say that she refused to marry a man she wasn't in love with, and implied she will never fall for one. She's trying too hard to prove she can be an independent woman.

Her family, out of concern, told her that marriage isn't about love. She can marry someone who she is compatible with and get along just fine. That many people don't end up married to the love of their lives and even if they do, they end up losing the spark anytime but stay because they built a loving home together.

I don't find this a bad thing. Stability is very important in marriage. I mean sure, I wish I could marry the love of my life, but if my parents decided that my next door neighbor would be my wife, I would go along with it because that's just how things are where I live.

I told Maya this and she got upset with me. She said my case was different because I'm a guy (??) And because I was hetero.

I told her to value her culture more, and she has the advantage over me because she can actually CHOOSE her spouse. She got angry and said I wasn't being considerate of her feelings, and she'd rather die than be touched by a man, which frankly is making me worried.

I told her she wasn't being realistic. She is fine for now, but she will suffer in the future. Being single in our cultures is very difficult and she needs to give up. She replied with long paragraphs about how she doesn't care. I say this because I care about her as a friend, and her parents from what she described are good people too and they care about her too. She doesn't appreciate it and thinks she can live alone for the rest of her life. Unlike the west, roommates arrangements aren't available here. If she loses her family, she becomes dependent on relatives who may or may not be available. Frankly I think she's very influenced by the western lifestyle which will get her nowhere in real life. And she's disabled and works a minimum wage too.

Maya stopped talking to me for days. The whole discussion was a on a public post so by the time our mutual friend Jade woke up (different time zones) she read the whole post and came to scream at me in DMs. Jade was Ace herself, she told me I was being sexist and acephobic. I told Jade that wasn't my intention but she should stay out of our business because she can't relate to our cultures and isn't being helpful to Maya, and she has it easy because she has the resources available that allow her to be independent.

AITA for wanting my friend to realize she's being unrealistic and things won't work for her in the future?

What are these acronyms?

[furiousgoldfish]

I've noticed that when living with other people (roommates), I easily get stressed to the point of panic and mortification, if there's a tense silence in the air, and nobody is talking to me or reacting positively to my attempts to communicate. This very often is the situation, since I'm living with roommates I don't know well, and who do not have any incentive to be friendly, or are generally just not very polite people. It is normal and fine that we all stick to our own business and ignore each other. But it gets me stressed and I find myself feeling like I am despised by them, even if they don't do anything to me, or complain about me at all.

I'm generally feeling more relaxed with the rare roommates who are more social and accept my invitations to watch a movie, or go to a walk together, or just have a conversation; suddenly it's all okay and I can go on without second-guessing if something is extremely wrong. But this is rare and most of the time I can't count on it.

I believe that this is happening because of the past 'shunning' or 'the silent treatment' abuse tactic, I believe the two are very similar. Shunning is generally something that happens within a cult; when a certain member is 'disobedient', which means, they question something, complain about something, try to do something against the rules (which is in reality a completely normal thing to do), or just find themselves at the wrong side of the leaders, they'll be shut out from any and all communications. Other members will not be allowed to look at them, talk to them, help them, they'll sometimes be forced to preform some humiliating activity or be isolated and locked up until they've managed to 'redeem themselves' (whenever the leaders decide it's been enough and the shunned member is unlikely to 'misbehave' again). The function of this is to not only stop the victimized member from being allowed to think and act freely, but also to scare everyone else who starts thinking into the 'forbidden direction', they will not dare to voice it seeing someone being punished so harshly for that same behaviour. The victim will feel completely alone against the world, despised, and eventually they'll be forced to say that they're in the wrong, even if their original 'crime' was something completely normal, logical and human.

I believe that the 'silent treatment' is almost the same thing, only it's happening in more intimate setting, within the victim and the abuser directly. It usually happens after the abuser does an act of abuse, or the victim does something that is perfectly okay and normal but the abuser wants them to not be able to do that, that's when they start the 'silent treatment', to convince the victim they're in the wrong, they're responsible for whatever just went down, and they now need to suffer the consequences, which is the abuser withholding any attention, affection, familiarity or communication from them. It usually happens after the victim has already been isolated from everyone else they could rely on, so it means the victim is effectively cut off from the world. The victim will usually be stuck in this isolation, rejection and neglect until the abuser decides they want or need something, or until they apologize, accept blame, and promise to be 'obedient' to the abuser. It's a slow method of brainwashing, convincing someone they deserve a painful punishment for doing nomal things, that the abuser doesn't like, or just to convince them to take responsibility for the abuse that the abuser did out of their own volition.

And my parents did that a lot. I would often be subjected to assault, I never knew exactly why, only that my father was in a bad mood, and then all of the family members would not look at me, talk to me, give me food, they would be angry and glaring if I as much as went outside of my room. The message was clear; I was responsible for the abuse, I needed to feel guilty, ashamed, humbled, I needed to accept that the violence was deserved, that it was my fault. I needed to apologize, repent, and be aware that because I caused all this, I was disgusting and monstrous to my entire family to the extent they couldn't even look at me. It was a pretty insane farce to isolate and shun a child because the father is violent and assaults the child, and we all needed to pretend this is 100% child's fault, and father was in fact, forced to do it because the child is just, so bad (wow I feel so sorry for him, if only he could control his own actions, how sad that a child completely controls an adult in this fantasy).

(And the child is controlling the adult in the way that forces adult to assault the child, thats the exact thing children want from adults for sure. Not, I don't know, candy and freedom. For sure a child would use control to force assault.)

When this was going on, I did feel like every person in the world hates me, and like I was some sort of a monster who couldn't be looked at without disgust. I felt like every part of me was horrifying and ugly, and sometimes it messed with me so much, I felt like even the furniture in the house hated me. I would shut myself in my room and I felt like even the bed and the chair and the desk were hostile, angry, and wanted me to not exist anymore. There was no escape.

I didn't realize until now, but it's possible that every time my roommates are cold, ignoring me, rejecting my friendliness, I might be re-living that feeling of being shunned again. It's not like after living that life for so long, I can just be normal and okay with being ignored and treated with silence again. One of my roommates was leaving the other day, and since the stakes are no longer existent, I asked them if they hated me the entire time, because they sometimes wouldn't even greet me. They told me 'no, I was exhausted from having to socialize at work, by the time I got home I didn't have the energy to look at anyone'. Which was of some comfort, but not something I would assume. They basically had no complaints, but I felt like I was being despised most of the time. I hope I can eventually be normal about this. Suffering for no reason is not helpful. But I also don't know if any person as isolated as me would be bothered by being ignored and rejected, and not shown basic politeness, and my painful experience of it is maybe normal and not that odd. I just get to have extra pain because it's triggering.

[zivazivc]

im too scared to ask because of the answer but is Hed and Les relationship ok?

(you should be scared)

They love each other unconditionally and are closer than most siblings, and I want to answer with a definite yes, but it’s more of a soft yes.

They’d die for each other and would never want to cause each other any harm, but they both hold very deep-rooted and painful resentment toward each other. This anger, while valid on its own, feels unjustifiable and selfish to both brothers, and is why they have a hard time addressing it. It only starts to get resolved later (for now I’m aiming at the time frame after Floyd leaves the band and before Les runs into him again, which is Hed’s late twenties and Les’s early thirties) when Les finally opens up to Hed about things that happened during their early childhood in the Rock Kingdom, which Hed was too young to comprehend or remember, and this revelation puts a lot of things into perspective for Hed and is extremely cathartic for both of them.

Like I’ve mentioned, Les didn’t talk to Hed about his trauma, (they are four years apart which is a big gap when you’re a kid), and Hed could never fully understand why Les had taken him with him to the Funk Kingdom. It’s a question he never receives an honest answer to, and it’s something he (although unwillingly/with doubt) resents him for since he had a difficult childhood in Vibe City as the only tiny Rock Troll who always got othered and excluded, even bullied.

There is also the related issue where Hed doesn’t understand why his brother is so troubled and disconnected, because he’s under the impression that they’ve more or less been in the same boat all their lives. That it’s always been them against the world. He even thinks Les had it better than him since he is half Funk and sticks out less like a sore thumb among a Funk society than Hed does…

I realize I’ve never addressed this directly, even though I figure some of you probably assume it already, but Les is a deeply depressed character and has been like this since he was very young (similar to Branch, although it’s expressed differently), and he has occasional episodes where he spirals and even becomes suicidal. The first time it happened and he tried to go through with it, Hed was only 8-10 years old, and the fact that his big brother was willing to end it all and leave him alone shook Hed’s entire world. The incident filled him with such intense fear and hurt that he cannot find it in him to forgive his brother for it no matter how much he wants to. He also developed anxiety surrounding Les’s mental state and is terrified of letting him out of his sight for longer periods for fear of losing him.

Les’s resentment towards Hed stems mostly from jealousy and not knowing where to direct his own hurt, and he hates himself for these feelings because none of it is Hed’s fault. — Hed is/was both of their dads’ favorite son, and as far as Les is convinced, he was their mom’s favorite too. He dodged all the worst abuse Les experienced under Butch, Butch even flaunted Hed as his son just to put Les down, and as a little kid Les pretty much hated his baby brother for it. Hed was always seen as the “better” brother even though Hed was a loud brat compared to Les. But it didn’t take long for him to grow on Ish and his roommates while there was always tension between Les and his dad (due to Les already being deeply messed up by the time they got to Ish). Hed in general is a charismatic social butterfly who knows how to get on trolls’ good side. He vibes with both Rock and Funk Trolls, and clicks with most music and trolls in general, while Les struggles with social interactions that aren’t work related and often comes off awkward, especially as a teenager, he’s more casual in his twenties and onward, though still very much closed off.

Hed is also very smart (academically. in regards to reading the room, he is a dumbass), he always kept up with school, which he was allowed to attend without question, there was even early talk about uni, while Les never even got to finish elementary school because of his poor performance and him getting expelled over an incident, and was forced to start working early.

Hed also (because of his small size) was often let off the hook when he’d get into trouble/do something stupid. He was babied (word used loosely) by Ish and their uncles a lot in general. If Hed broke something, he’d get yelled at while Les would have to fix it or pay for it out of his pocket. 

They lived under two completely different sets of rules all their lives and Les festered a lot of hurt from the unfairness of it.

Les’s resentment wanes over time. Floyd is the one who helps him find release for a lot of his bottled up pain during their time together. Floyd is basically the first person Les confides in about nearly everything he was put through, and he encourages Les to talk to Hed about it. Which he does after a few years, and Hed learning about what his brother was put through as a little kid is what allows him to finally understand and forgive his brother…

[downforthegas]

Fart Prompts!

I got this idea from an account I'm following here where they used a random word generator to generate different burp and stuffed belly prompts. I liked it so much, I thought of doing something similar but with eprocto scenarios

Faithful

Person A and person B are having trust issues in their relationship. Person A questions if B still loves them for who they are, and B proves that... by sticking their nose in their crack and inhaling all their farts. It wasn't A's idea, but at least they know B would do anything for them.

Piano

Your fave is doing a piano recital, or their performing a piano in public somewhere. The only problem is they're feeling very bloated, but they haven't farted yet so they think they'll be fine. That is until a crowd forms around them and they feel a large bubble trying to escape. They continue playing but with both hands busy, they ultimately fail to hold back the huge fart. Do they get embarrassed or brush it off? How does the crowd react?

Slide

Your fave is hanging out with their friends at a water park. The fave is about to go on a big water slide on their back. Their nerves get the best of them and as they wait for the bottom to drop, they accidentally fart, creating little bubbles in the flowing water. Everyone, including the operator, seems to notice, and their friends don't live it down, even after they get done with the slide

Loss

Person A has lost something in the apartment/dorm while their roommate is gone. As they're searching around, they feel their stomach acting weird. They don't pay mind and eventually find themselves on their hands and knees, when their stomach starts cramping up. Knowing they're alone, they rip a long fart that relieves their stomach. They hear tapping on their shoulder. They quickly turn around and it's person B with the thing A lost. Does A feel embarrassed or do they not care? Is B disgusted, amused or aroused? (note: I know it's loss but lost is close enough, and plus I've been wanting to write a prompt like this cause I like this scenario very much)

Invite

Your fave is sending invitations to different people for a party they're having. Whether you're friends or lovers, they've become very close with you and even know about your fart fetish. They decide that, since you're the guest of honor, you deserve an honorable invite. They take the invitation, hold it up to their butt and fart repeatedly into the page. They put it in the envelope and fart a few more times in there, finishing it off with one more blow on the surface of the envelope. They know you'll greatly appreciate this.

Manage

Your fave is working somewhere where they need to be left in charge while the boss is gone. They stand in front of the workers and try to give them a speech about what they're gonna do while the main boss is gone. But while talking, with the employees surrounding them, they can't help but rip one, which catches everyone's attention. A few employees can't help but laugh, but your fave is a trooper and continues. They're not sure if everyone was able to take them seriously after that but they still feel like hiding after that situation.

~I might make more soon!

[xerith-42]

wait so i love the idea of MCD laur being launched into MS season 3. Now i have questions.

Does he end up telling them about being a shadow knight? Or does that… reveal itself (rubbing my hands together menacingly). If so, how does that go down? What’s the reactions? The circumstances? mwahaha

Does he get to visit Cadenza? What’s that like? For that matter, are his dads alive in this universe? (AUGHEUGHEU) Does he ask Cad about them?

Oh now that's an idea...

He 100% would want to keep it on lock down. Even if these alternate versions of his friends are surprisingly chill about him being from another dimension, they even ask him questions about it, there's some stuff he refuses to tell them. Idk where he would start living, maybe with MyS Garrance who knows, but whoever first sees him without a shirt on would no doubt notice the amount of scars across his body. There's a difference between "I come from a dangerous world" and "I have scarring of multiple stab wounds and burn marks that would have easily killed someone."

If anyone tried to ask him about it he would just dodge the question, tell them that it's nothing, just wounds from a battle he's already won. I don't think his calling would fully be able to act up in this other dimension, but it would try to. He'd be hanging out with everyone, getting to know them, and then when he looks over at the now second alternate version of the woman he loves so much, it just happens. In an instant his hands become shaky, his eyes start to cloud over, and all his thoughts are filled with the urge to kill.

And let's remember, at the point he got yoinked out of his original timeline, Laurance has just barely if at all started to come to terms with his condition and what it does to him. He's still in denial about how bad it is because he doesn't want Aphmau to worry or Garroth to distrust him. He doesn't know or understand different symptoms because they just started, and now he's surrounded by people who don't even know what a Shadow Knight is.

I imagine the calling acting up would make Laurance run away, like physically run the fuck away from Lover's Lane with no way to track him because boy has inhuman speed and no phone. The thing that gets him to come back is when they find him hiding in the woods that line the city. And the person who finds him is this dimensions version of Cadenza. The one person who no matter what situation Laurance was in, is able to talk him down.

She's not the same as his sister. When he sees her he can see the difference in them. His sister is a little taller, carries herself differently, and is obviously dressed differently. But her voice sounds so similar, her laugh is the same, and the soft way she talks to a freaking out Laurance is enough to ground him to some sense of reality when he's spiraling. Cadenza was always able to talk Laurance down from a bad decision when they were kids, and now this alternate version of her is able to do the same.

MCD Laur and MyS Cadenza become absolute besties after this. Like forget his budding brotherly relationship with MyS Dante that reflects the same one they had in MCD, he's found someone he can consider family here. He never talks about what happened, just tells everyone it was some warrior instinct that went haywire. What do you mean his eyes sometimes change color when he looks at Aphmau for too long? You're making things up again Travis.

Fun little aside, Laur would 100% tell most of the cast about their counterparts, and Travis would be so upset to learn that he doesn't have one (as far as Laur knows).

And one day Laur goes to Cadenza's house so they can talk and she can figure out a way she can properly dress him. Everyone else lives alone or with another adult roommate, so he doesn't even think to ask about who she lives with. When he knocks on the door, there's nothing that can prepare him for who opens it.

It's Joh.

His dad. His real dad, or the closest thing he had to one. The man who first took him in, and the first person Laurance failed to protect.

Emotions take over logic and he just hugs this man. He doesn't know if Cadenza's informed him of the situation, he doesn't know if he's supposed to pretend to be the other Laurance, and he doesn't care. In a precious moment he's able to hug his father and maybe break down crying while he's hugging him who knows.

I do think Cadenza tried to explain to her dads that the man coming over is an alternate version of Laurance from another dimension. And while Hayden is a sci-fi nerd and can actually wrap his head around the concept, Joh was sort of nodding along for the conversation. He gets that this man looks and acts a lot like his son, but isn't his son. Yet this doppelganger hugs him the exact way his son did when he came home from college, with so much love that it crushes him.

And for Laurance, even if he knows this is no doubt an alternate version of his father, it doesn't matter. It doesn't matter because for just a sweet sweet moment he gets to hug his father and pretend like he didn't completely and utterly fail him. When this now very awkward hug breaks, Laurance has to come to terms with reality, see that this man is indeed different from the one he failed to protect.

But for just a minute... it felt like he was.

[written-by-jayy]

Prompt #7

Carbon Monoxide Poisoning

Masterlist

••••••••••••••••••••••••

I don't think I've ever seen Carbon Monoxide poisoning in whump...

I mean, there's just so much potential!

Characters falling ill with some mysterious sickness, everyone in the house having similar, if not the same symptoms.

Maybe it's just dizziness, fatigue, headaches, muscle aches, and nausea. All things that are inconvenient, and after a certain point, become worrisome and quite concerning but not life threatening and some might just brush off. Maybe if they live alone they think they're over-dramatic or that their age or past experiences are finally getting to them. If they have roommates, maybe they chock it up to food poisoning or seasonal allergies being extra bad or maybe it's all the studying, work, and/or parties. Some could even think it's a virus of some kind.

But it continues to get worse. With things like seizures, hallucinations, and disorientation making a character who lives alone think they're going completely insane or maybe they finally go to the hospital because y'know. Seizures. If they're roommates, then wow, that's some bad food poisoning. Or they've been having some awful trips lately.

Anyway, eventually if nothings done about it, it can leave a character or two comatose or even eventually dead.

Just seems quite whumpy and with a ton of potential. Whether it's a sickfic, environmental whump, etc.

Not to mention; what about a recovering whumpee? What or who are they hallucinating? This sure would make physical and mental recovery a hell of a lot harder. Especially when the caretaker is extremely ill and experiencing similar symptoms as the whumpee.

Would be a shame if this happened to your poor recovering blorbos :(

[starryeyedjanai]

you can tell me what you want

stomarol | explicit | kinktober prompt: pegging | wc: 2486

cw: transmasculine steve, squirting mention

Read on ao3 or below the cut

Steve has become accustomed to the odd things Tommy and Carol ask of him. Not odd, really, just - in the context of their relationship, friendship, some people would say it's a little weird.

It started out with Carol asking, begging, Steve to give Tommy some tips on how to eat her out because she was too impatient to try and teach him.

This was right before he came out to her so he was flattered that she'd heard enough about his pussy eating skills from around campus to ask him to give Tommy pointers about it.

And listen, he tried.

He tried so hard to keep it at just that, just miming what he'd do - in the air at first, so fucking awkwardly, and then on a peach.

And Tommy's a hands-on kind of learner, but trying to eat out a peach wasn't helping because it's not at all the same - none of the taste and texture and reaction of a person's cunt.

So they went back to Carol, the two of them, and Steve asked if he could teach Tommy in a real hands-on kind of way.

He came out to her then ("since you and I have similar equipment, maybe I could really show him how it's done?") mostly because the thought of Tommy kneeling between his legs for however long it took him to get it right had him sweating and jerking himself raw the previous night.

Carol said yes immediately, anything to help Tommy make her orgasm with just his mouth.

So he made Tommy kneel in front of him and spread his legs for him and showed him how to touch someone with a cunt.

He brought himself off in front of him, fingers working his dick with tight, fast circles. Tommy was leaning forward to taste before Steve was even done shuddering through his orgasm, tongue licking over his clenching hole.

He grabbed fistfuls of Tommy's hair like they were reins and directed him right where he wanted him, talking him through it the entire time, telling him how to flick his tongue, when to use the flat of his tongue on his clit, to ask if he can put his fingers inside instead of just assuming.

He came with Tommy sucking on his clit, two fingers inside pressing up, and he shivered at the wave of possession that flowed over him. He didn't think about it before, but he's the first person Tommy was able to get off like this.

He doesn't subscribe to the whole virginity thing like some guys, so he wasn't sure why being Tommy's first something was really doing it for him. But he knew if they asked again, he was going to say yes. If Tommy needed tips on something else, he'd say yes.

And they did ask.

Tommy asked if he'd help him with "finding the g-spot" and Steve put some towels down on his bed and put a cock ring on Tommy and had him fuck him until he found it. Tommy fucked him until he was squirting, his eyes crossing from the stimulation of Tommy fucking into him with shallow, even strokes, hitting his g-spot on almost every thrust after he got the angle right.

He also asked Steve if he'd help him find his prostate because Carol asked to finger him and he wasn't sure if he'd like it. So Steve pressed his fingers inside him and curled them up, pressing relentlessly on the spot that made Tommy nearly shout the first time he touched it. Tommy came, hole clenching and quivering around his fingers, with barely a hand on his cock.

Tommy and Carol both came to him to ask him if he could fuck Tommy because they wanted him to do it in front of Carol so that she knew how to do it. And so he went over to Carol's dorm since she lived alone - her roommate from last semester is studying abroad and they didn't have anyone replace her, so she had an extra bed that she pushed together with hers. (Tommy told him he almost slipped through the crack between them one night before she got a mattress pad to join them together.)

He put Tommy on his back with Carol sitting right next to them on the bed and fucked his strap into him slowly, telling Carol everything she needed to know about anal - they hadn't asked for anything like this other than when he fingered Tommy, so he's almost certain Tommy's never fucked Carol's ass before.

He was thorough and he took his time taking Tommy apart. Tommy came untouched on his dick with Carol moans filling the air she touched herself to the sight of them.

So he's used to the requests by now, and knows that when Tommy has a late night question for him, it's usually about whatever sex thing he and Carol are working through right now.

So it's not a surprise when he gets a text about something sexual.

The surprise is that it comes from Carol, asking him to bring a harness and a dildo over.

He heads over to her dorm and she tells him she's afraid she's going to be bad at fucking Tommy, that they haven't tried it because she's nervous.

She says, "You made him come without even putting a hand on him and now I'm getting in my head about it. I'm obviously not going to be as good as you the first time."

She looks so put out by it that Steve can't even make fun of her.

He says, "You know Tommy's gonna be happy with whatever you give him, right? He's pretty easy to please."

Carol still looks pouty, so he asks what she needs him to do and she tells him exactly what she needs.

And when they text Tommy to come over, Steve's already helped Carol into her own harness and showed her how to move her hips when she's fucking someone. Her dildo is still dripping with his slick when Tommy opens the door.

The sight of Tommy on his knees, licking his slick off Carol's dildo is something that's going to be in his spank bank for the rest of his life. Tommy's so enthusiastic about it, groaning like he can't get enough of the taste. Steve suspects he's going to get a text later about helping Tommy hone his dick-sucking skills so Carol can shove her cock down his throat whenever she wants.

When Tommy's done lapping up the slick off the dildo, he gets on the bed and Carol gets between his spread legs.

Steve steps into his own harness, snaps his dick into place, and gets behind Carol on the bed.

He's tall enough that he can meet Tommy's eyes over Carol's head and he can't bite back the smirk at the heat he sees in his gaze. Tommy's so easy for them.

Steve puts his hands around Carol, one hand guiding her head to the side so he can lick into her mouth, the other coming up to cup one of her tit's and thumb at her nipple. He kisses her deeply until he hears the snick of the lube bottle opening, Tommy trying to signal them to get on with it.

He pulls away from Carol's mouth slowly, pecks her a few times chastely, before grabbing the bottle of lube from Tommy. He watches as Tommy spreads his legs a little wider and strokes his two fingers coated in lube over his hole. He only presses them inside briefly, not even up to the second knuckle - he discovered that he doesn't mind the stretch when Steve presses in nice and slow.

Steve coats his hand in lube and slicks up Carol's cock and says, "Turn over," to Tommy.

Tommy scrambles to turn over, wiping the excess lube of his fingers on the towel next to him.

Steve keeps his hand on Carol's cock and guides it to Tommy's hole.

It's quiet in the room, just the sound of their labored breathing, as Steve helps Carol press the head of her dick inside Tommy. The head pops inside and Tommy sighs softly.

"Go slow," Steve says to Carol, "like I showed you earlier."

Carol puts her hands on Tommy hips and presses inside just like she had earlier when she was pressing into Steve's cunt. Steve drops another dollop of lube onto where Carol and Tommy are joined when she's about halfway through getting her dick inside him, and the slide inside goes easier.

Carol lets out a deep breath when she bottoms out and she asks, "Is that okay, Tommy?"

Tommy moans and says, "Perfect, so fucking perfect."

Steve whispers in Carol's ear, "See? I told you."

Carol scoffs and pulls out a bit, still slow and careful, before pressing back inside.

"You ready?" Steve asks her, ready to turn the bullet vibe that's positioned at his clit on and slip his cock into her.

"Just a sec," she says, utterly entranced with the way her dick is splitting Tommy open. Her eyes are glued to Tommy's hole, watching the slow slide in and out and in again.

Steve sits back on his heels and turns the vibe on low, content to wait until she's ready or to slip his harness off and use his dildo to fuck himself if she decides she wants this moment to be just her and Tommy.

Carol fucks into Tommy another handful of times before reaching a hand back and tugging Steve close again. She says, "Fuck me, fuck me now."

Steve notches his dick up against Carol's pussy and presses inside, slipping inside easily with how wet she is.

He puts his hands on her hips and fucks into her, deep at first - short, choppy thrusts that have her bracing herself with her hands on Tommy's shoulder.

He grinds into her, chasing the feeling of the vibrator being pressed tight against his dick for a few moments before he really starts to fuck her.

He strokes in deep, hard enough that it presses her hips to Tommy's, and they both moan.

He fucks them both like this, his cock sliding into Carol, hers fucking into Tommy by proxy. He sets an even pace and grips Carol's hips tightly so he can move her with him, doing most of the work for her.

She's not complaining by the sounds of it - she drapes herself over Tommy's back after a few minutes and lets Steve take what he wants, just spreads her thighs a little to get better leverage and lets him move her how he wants.

Tommy's hands are gripping the pillow beneath his head as he gets plowed through the mattress by them, the moans falling from his mouth at increasing frequency the further they get into it. No one's touching his cock, but Steve knows he has to be dripping so much precome onto the bed.

Steve's orgasm sneaks up on him - he'd already come on Carol's strap twice before Tommy even got here. He's not expecting to come so soon, but something about this is really doing it for him. Seeing Carol giving up control, hearing Tommy's whimpers as the force of Steve fucking Carol carries over to the dick inside of him.

He's tensing up and shivering through it before he even knows it's coming, hips pressed against Carol's, grinding in deep to keep the vibrations against him. His hips jerk as he crests through it, gritting his teeth and groaning.

He puts his hands on Carol's shoulders and pulls her back upright, kissing her neck.

He says into her ear, "You got this," before pulling out and flopping onto the bed next to them, reaching down to turn the vibrator off.

He's going to watch Carol get Tommy off and there's no doubt that Tommy will bury his face in her cunt after this, so he doesn't feel that bad about not getting her off yet.

Carol locks eyes with him and starts up a rhythm of her own, fucking into Tommy with the same shallow thrusts she practiced earlier. Tommy's answering whine makes her grin, a wicked expression on her face as she gets into a groove.

Steve presses closer and kisses Tommy's shoulder, reaching underneath him to grip his cock.

Tommy pushes up and turns his head and Steve gives him what he wants. He presses his mouth to Tommy's and eats the sounds right from his mouth as he strokes his dripping cock.

Between Carol's precise strokes into him and Steve's hand, Tommy doesn't stand a chance.

He whines into Steve's mouth and shoots off into his hand before long, his entire body shuddering with the force of it. Carol fucks him through it and Steve pulls back from Tommy's mouth to look at her.

She's pleased, her cheeks pink and the corners of her mouth quirked up as she looks down at them.

She pulls out when Tommy starts sounding overwhelmed, his whines and shivers more pronounced.

Steve sits up on his knees to pull Carol into a kiss, soft and sweet, as he loosens the straps on her harness.

He slides off the bed and pulls her to her feet to help slide it off her. His hand is between her thighs before he can think about it, fingers sliding into her wet pussy as he grips her neck and kisses her again, this time harsh and biting.

She's worked up, hasn't come in the time that Steve's been here, so it doesn't take long to make her come like this.

He gets his thumb against her clit and works her over with quick circles, tucking a third finger inside her.

She moans into his mouth and her hips buck forward as she comes, clenching around his fingers, the sound of his fingers in her getting louder with the added wetness of it.

He works her through it, fingers slowing to a stop when she stops clenching around them.

He pulls his fingers out and pulls away from her mouth. He locks eyes with Tommy as he slips his dripping wet fingers into his mouth, licking the taste of Carol off of them.

Carol lays back down onto the bed and Tommy slips on top of her, pressing a soft kiss to her mouth before sliding down her body.

Steve climbs onto the bed beside them and they both watch as Tommy sighs contentedly and laps up the wetness between her spread thighs.

"Didn't I tell you he was easy?" Steve asks, on his side next to her, his right hand coming up to cup her breast.

Carol doesn't reply and Tommy doesn't stop to even defend himself.

She just yanks Steve into a kiss and Tommy keeps working, the wet noise of him sucking her clit loud in the quiet of the room.

[faeriemarie]

(a very late) shiftmas catch-up 🎅🏾🎄

1. christmas caroling

your love’s like by sabrina carpenter - because it reminds me of my bf; von dutch by charli xcx - i’m shifting back to summer 2024; anything ha vay has ever released - her music videos are exactly my aesthetic and what i strive to look like

2. gingerbread houses

my house is a very boring suburban row house. but i still like it. i live with my mom and my sister, but i’ll soon move into my dorm at uni and live with my cr roommate. fav part of my house is my bedroom (obvi) and fav aspect of my dorm are my posters — i have george harrison and romeo & juliet (1968)

3. eggnog

drama going on in my dr? literally me and that i get crushes on too many people. i break up with my gf, have two crushes, and start dating my bf all in the span of a few months 😔

4. sledding

my friend group is my cr friend group. our favorite thing to do is go to local theatre shows and spend nights at karaoke. we go to a local diner after to eat sides and drink milkshakes that are way too big.

5. snowman

my fit inspo pinterest boards

6. stockings

my family is lowk the worst but i wanna keep in the trauma that makes me me. my favorite family member is my cousin jessica who’s one year older than me and my closest friend since birth. we spend christmas with my mom’s immediate family

7. candy canes

this is so toxic and shallow but literally looking at myself in the mirror and finally being beautiful and skinny. i need it like i need air to breathe

8. mistletoe

ahhh my s/o is named petro and i love love love him (scripted him myself too). he’s weird like me and likes old things so we go antiquing and visit museums. where i am a more 1960s filmmaker poet girl, he’s a total renaissance man who plays cello and oil-paints and is basically a chess grandmaster. we bask in our similar loserdom and it’s great

9. snowflakes

headcanons in my dr: my mom was the beauty when she was younger and everyone wanted her, my younger sister actually likes and admires me though she’d never admit it, my super religious best friend is a lesbian, i am my history professor’s favorite student 🤭, my boyfriend’s parents believe we’ll get married

10. icicles

my occupation is an amateur multi hyphenate: writer-director-actor-animator among other things because i can’t pick a hobby to save my life. primary job is being a uni student though. favorite aspect is having freedom to study what i want while pursue a career in entertainment. least favorite aspect is having to rely on my mother

11. tree skirt

found out about shifting from a random intriguing subliminal when i was in the sub community. first dr was an improved cr and current dr is a different improved cr. some things never change, even after 5 years

12. ornaments

objects in my dr but not my cr? my whole ass stop-motion set that’s beautiful and professional even though i made it alone in my childhood bedroom

13. sleigh bells

greatest privilege of all is my lifa app. the universe bends to my will with the click of a button and i can control anything i want :))

14. cookie cutters

i haven’t thought about this much honestly because i’m not big on scents

15. elf on the shelf

main wingman is always my cousin. she loves trying to set me up because she generalizes my type too much (thinks any random white boy will work for me 🙄). but she’s cool and somehow always has a new bitch which makes my job really easy. when we hang out we either go to the movies (my choice) or to a party (her choice)

16. wrapping paper

i like scripting in bullet points in either my notes app or a google doc. i’m very concerned with dates so a lot of my script is taken over by timelines

17. gift tags

my camera roll in my dr

18. snowballs

i want to make short films with my friends and get absolutely nothing done because we’re too busy cracking jokes and having dance parties

19. mittens

i make short films on my youtube channel and post short stories on my substack. i also watch a lot of movies (like 600 a year) and love to read classic literature.

20. ice skates

art museum dates with my boyfriend!! we could spend 5+ hours in MoMA and 8+ hours at the Met and it would be perfect to me

[nenynrawrites]

I remember reading a little passage from the Playgirl magazine, where Peter said, that his girlfriend calls him hot, but he didn't get what she found hot about him. So, lets worship this man as much as he worshipped every woman he's been with<3

,,Pete?"

,,Hm?"

,,You look really hot right now..."

,,I do?"

,,Fuck yes! I die everytime I see you, that's how hot you are!"

,,Oh?"

As much as he's sarcastic about it, Peter didn't know how to react to what you were telling. You telling him he was hot happened on a near daily basis, especially when you were about to have sex. But there wasn't any other word in your mind other than that. And dying for it? Sure, he'd die for you, that was no question, you meant much to him, but dying because of somebody being hot? That might be a stretch.

You could literally see the gears turning in his mind, imaginary steam escaping from it.

,,You don't get it, do you?"

,,Not really...But if you like calling me that, I'm not opposed to it."

,,Let me explain, m'kay?"

Peter just nodded, a smile on his lips as he pulled you closer, so you'd be face to face. You made yourself a bit more comfortable in his lap, before you began with your little essay.

,,So, I mean, an obvious thing would be your actions, you know? Just you with everyday people at work, your fans, let alone your family...They way you're treating them is just great. You're taking your time for each, and if somebody's being an asshole, you'll just be an asshole back, which nobody can always do. You and your cats are non-seperable, and your whole attitude towards them is really a companion living, you're treating them like a roommate basically. And me, I...Ever since we first met in middle school, you were always so nice since my first day, helping with everything and everyone I had problems with, and, yeah..."

What you thought to be a perplexed look, turned out to be more surprised. Of course Peter knew of his actions, but hearing it from the person he loved made it feel much...Better.

,,Do you have anything more to say?"

,,More to say? Like what?"

,,I don't know...Just similar to what you've just said..."

,,Well, I can talk about us, if you'd like..."

,,Go on."

He was just smirking. Maybe after all he was hot. Maybe. But it only sounded good when his partner said it.

,,Like...God-"

,,I don't think he can help you with that."

,,Give me a second..."

Your thoughts were all over the place, trying to grasp onto what little hold they could find. You thought back onto what you just told him, basically how proud you were of him, but obviously, he knows how to derail your thoughts.

,,I love you, too."

,,Where do I even begin...You really take your time with anything I'm doing, just listening, and...You're so soft with every touch, even when you're rough, it's...Yeah, that's that: You're soft. You gave me so much time after confessing, you didn't even dare to continue anything if I wasn't 100% sure! Just...You...I don't know...It's so much, but thank you."

,,Baby?"

,,Hm?

,,I love you."

Just then, Tito jumped up right in between you two, purring and rubbing himself agains the both of you.

,,I think he wants to hear your opinion, too."

,,Well, where do I start..."

[boundbyeclipse]

📬

alright, since i’m so open with you all on this app, i think it’s best if i talk about my struggles and let myself be heard. considering my previous post about my roommate/friend, this one will be exactly about our journey that began a few years back. i’ll warn you, this post is very open and honest, and also quite long. if you are willing to read everything - thank you for your time. now let me start.

so, four years ago, 2019, at the end of summer, we both moved in together to another city, away from our parents and out of our hometown. we have always joked about living together, but didn’t think it would come true. well, it did. i guess it was just meant to happen. everything was good for the first two years, we spent so much time together, even worked at the same place, until she met this guy. well, it was a messy situationship but i won’t get into details about it out of respect. the important part is, when she started dating him, there no longer was any proper girl time. whenever we decided to watch a movie, or do something together, it would just always end up with her dashing through the door just to see that guy. or he would come over and the “party” would be over in a second. it always happened like that. and what hurt me the most, (i remember this like it happened yesterday) was one time, we were drinking wine, and dancing, just having fun. and me being an emotional person, (ofc the alcohol affected me even more) i began to cry so hard because i felt lonely (relationship wise). she patted my back, told me that i will find someone one day. but then, suddenly she gets a text from him and rushes to get ready to go to his place. so she leaves. i’m all alone. i’m crying sitting on the FLOOR. and it’s all because she was so naive and needed sex. i understand, first boyfriend, falling head over heels and all that stuff causes you to be naive, but it shouldn’t cross the line to the point where you totally ignore your best fucking friend who needs a person by their side. i felt so abandoned, so sick to my stomach, because the ONLY person i relied on and trusted so much did that to me. and even if i managed to kind of cool down and lowkey forgive her for that (i never actually talked to her about that night), i still remember it. i don’t think that’s what best friends do.

next, some time after that, i fell into a bad place again, i left that job, wanted to find a new one, and it took me a bit of time to achieve that. but during the time while i wasn’t working, my mom offered me to move out and go back to my hometown. i said no, because i didn’t want to go, i liked it here and i liked the fact that i had my private space and could explore a city that i wasn’t familiar with before coming here. she begged me to stay here because she would not have known what to do with the rent. and since we pay it in half, she would have to pay the full rent until a new person was found if i left. so i stayed for me and for HER.

two more years passed by, and i’m in a very similar situation right now. i haven’t gotten any luck with finding a new job. it’s a struggle. and what does she do this time? she tells me “this is the last month you’re living here if you can’t get a job”. and it’s not on me if nobody is interested in calling me for an interview, right? 11 applications, but 0 calls. am i at fault here? no. so now she basically threatens me with kicking me out?? no problem, i’m packing my bags day by day, because this is not what i want anymore. yes, starting life in a different location was always exciting, but i’ve gotten sick of it. i miss my family. i miss my home. and it doesn’t matter if i have gotten used to this city, this apartment, this lifestyle, i just feel like i don’t belong here anymore. my gut is telling me “go, you’ll be better off back HOME” and i cannot keep ignoring it.

i also just had her talk about me in the kitchen like i’m not home or can’t hear her. and what i hate the most is that she never talks to me about any issue eye to eye. it’s always behind my back or through the texts. if you are that unsatisfied with how things are going for me and how my mental health is, talk to me in person. no friend goes around and talks about their friend who’s so close to them behind their back. this is completely unacceptable and disrespectful.

so, i have been gathering my things and i am getting ready to move out. it’s time. and yes, i will have to start everything from zero, but if that’s what i feel like is best to do, i’m going to do it.

if you made it this far - thank you for your time. i just wanted to pour my emotions out and tell my beloved mutuals what i’ve been going through. thank you everyone 🤍

[detroit-grand-prix]

make you better - susie wolff x personal assistant!reader

Summary: There's nothing worse than getting sick when you live alone, far away from family. But someone unexpected steps in to take care of you.

Tags/warnings: Reader/ Y/N perspective, contains descriptions of an (unspecified) illness and references to a gun violence incident, not romantic/ship content.

Author’s note: I wrote this a while ago, right after I had COVID in early February. It was the first time I'd had a symptomatic case of it. I don't get ill often, and I am not exaggerating when I say that I had never felt more ill in my life. I was also living alone at the time, which made the entire experience especially terrifying. After that, I decided to find a roommate.

I wrote this as a way to cope with the whole thing because it was strangely more traumatic than I expected. I've shared it with a few close friends and wanted to keep it mostly to myself, but with all of the requests I've been getting for more Susie-centric fic, it felt like the right time to share it. The illness isn't explicitly named so as to not place it in a specific period of time. The sex/gender of the reader isn't specified, and it is also not romantic or shippy, and that was intentional.

Writing this brought me a lot of comfort when I needed it, so I hope you find it comforting, too.

“Okay, here you go. I have to leave,” a man says, as you swing your leg over the jump seat and slide off of the motorcycle he was giving you a ride on. 

“Be good,” he says, as you take one last look at him. He reminds you of your grandfather, for some reason. Your grandfather died years ago.

As you turn around and listen to the roar of the four-stroke engine take off, you look around at the street you are standing in the middle of. It was dark outside, like it was the middle of the night. The only lights are coming from nearby houses, and the sickly orange cast of sodium-vapor street lamps. There was something familiar about where you were standing, like you’d been there before, but it had been a while.

You turn around and notice a large building that looks eerily similar to your primary school. Without thinking, you walk up to the entrance and sit on one of the concrete benches outside the front door, and wait. You’re not sure what you’re waiting for, but you have the distinct, creeping feeling that you are either way too late, or way too early to something.

You hear the sound of a church bell, but it’s oddly distorted and distant, even though it is likely coming from the Catholic church that should only be a block away. It rings four times. That can’t be right. It can’t be that early in the day, and you think you remember those bells being a lot louder, once. 

You get up from the bench and walk to the front door, giving a cursory tug at the old brass-toned handle. The door is locked. 

“Why am I here?” you think. “What am I waiting for?” 

These questions loop over and over in your mind, causing eventual panic to build in your chest. You’re not sure why someone - your grandfather, you suppose - would have just left you here. You think about walking back home, you’re fairly certain you know the way, maybe, but there’s just fog in the distance in every direction that makes you unsure of where you really are.

Not knowing what else to do, you lay down on the concrete bench and rest your head against the red brick wall of the building. Someone should come by eventually and tell you what to do, right?

As more time passes, you don’t see another soul. You just hear the distant, occasional peal of the church bells that sound increasingly distant. You’re still not sure what to do, so you do the one thing you know that you can do, even if it won’t help. 

You bring your knees to your chest and start to cry.

But then, the scenery around you shifts. You feel someone shaking your shoulder. Their touch is gentle as it coaxes you into the elsewhere. You open your eyes to see a dimly-lit room. It looks like a bedroom, but it’s not your bedroom.

There’s a petite woman with a light blonde bob haircut standing over you. She has a concerned look in her eyes, and her voice is so soft and quiet that it takes a moment to understand what she’s saying to you through the stubborn fog of heat, sweat, and pain that are gripping your senses.

“There we are,” she says, looking relieved once you manage to narrow your focus to her face. “I brought you some water and some more medicine. I know it might hurt to swallow, but do your best.” 

She holds out a glass of water for you as she waits for you to sit up, only handing it over once she’s confident your coordination has returned enough for you to not pour it all over your lap.

“Now, hold out your hand”. 

You obey, happy to have some instruction as she deposits two red-and-white capsules onto your palm. 

You pop the pills in your mouth and go to take a drink from the glass she’s handed you, remembering why she said something about it hurting to swallow. The water hitting the back of your throat feels like a hot knife, and swallowing requires conscious action. It’s difficult. You can only manage to drink just enough to get the pills down before you can't take anymore and start to cough.

“I know,” the woman says, her voice soft and sympathetic. You continue to cough, trying in vain to make it stop. “But we have to get that fever down.”

The coughing finally ceases and you settle back on the pillows you were laying on, and things start to become clear again, even though it feels like your mind is working on a delay.

The woman standing over you is named Susie, and the bedroom you are in is a guest bedroom in her condo.

Susie is your boss. A friend too, but your boss, first and foremost. You’re ill, and she’s taking care of you.

You came to meet Susie when you got a job working for a racing team in a division called Formula E. The team was called Venturi Racing and was based in Monaco. You moved to Nice, France to commute to work. It was a long way from home - a lengthy flight’s worth of a long way from home, but it was the kind of job you’d dreamed of having someday, so you jumped at the chance, packing all of your possessions and moving halfway across the world.

Monaco seemed like an alien world at first, but you settled into your new routine and your job quickly. The team principal, your boss, a formidable, confident woman named Susie Wolff, was the one that wanted to hire you, and you quickly hit it off, developing a sort of mutual trust that you’d never had with one of your bosses before. Before long, she invited you over to her condo for dinner once in a while. You met her husband and her son. Her husband was also team principal for a racing team, albeit one in Formula 1. He was in charge of Mercedes, and they made the chassis and power unit that Venturi used in their race cars.

You worked for Venturi for two years before getting a devastating announcement at a morning meeting in the early spring. The race team was being sold to Maserati, the Italian car manufacturer. They would take over the manufacture of the car itself and the power unit - the engine - severing the team’s tie with Mercedes.

Because of Susie’s own association with Mercedes, it meant that her time as CEO (which she had been promoted to from Team Principal) of the team would be coming to an end. She was an investor in the team as well, and would be selling her stake in the team to Maserati.

You were dumbstruck. New ownership meant a lot of changes would be made. You couldn’t imagine working for another racing team, or if you would even keep your job. Rumors of redundancies and the potential for reorganizing the entire structure of the team were abound, but you carried on with your job, going to London and Seoul for the last two race weekends, trying to act as if everything was normal. 

Susie announced her departure to the public during the weekend of the London EPrix.

The team finished the season narrowly as vice-champions, with Edo, one of the team’s drivers, finishing third in the driver’s championship. It was a season worth celebrating, but it was bittersweet, because it would be the last one as Venturi.

But one day, shortly after getting back from the Seoul E-Prix, Susie called you into her office. It was filled with boxes, as she was packing up. She only had a few days left with the company.

“I have a proposal for you. It’s going to sound unusual, but I’d like you to come work for me, just for a while. I will need an assistant to help me coordinate things, since I won’t have one here any longer.” 

She had an executive assistant at Venturi that organized much of her day-to-day work with the company. It made sense that she would want the continuity of that aspect of her life, and her current assistant was already slated to stay on with Maserati. 

But, your job wasn’t even remotely related to that kind of role. As you opened your mouth to protest, she cut you off.

“I know it’s not the kind of work you do here, and I know it’s not what you moved halfway around the world to do, but it will just be for a while, maybe a few months. I have some… other activities in the pipeline, but things aren’t settled yet. I will pay you what you make here, and then some. I will take care of transferring your visa sponsorship, and take care of the rent on your flat. If you want, after your non-compete clause in your contract ends in a few months, we can see about getting you a role similar to the one you have now in Brackley, should you so desire.”

Brackley, the town in the United Kingdom where the Mercedes F1 team was based - naturally, Susie would have more than a little sway in getting you a job with the F1 team, if you wanted it. Some might see it as some sort of nepotism, given that her husband was CEO and part-owner of the team, but that was the reality of the world of Motorsport. It was all about who you knew, and Susie was a very good person to know. 

You didn’t relish the idea of living in the UK after spending two years in the practically perfect climes of the French Riviera, but… 

“I’d prefer someone I can trust, and I trust you. I know you’re organized. You do great work around here. My son likes you, and if I can save myself the process of interviewing and hiring someone brand-new, I’d like to. At least give it some consideration, won’t you?”

She gave you the kind, warm smile she always gave you, and you asked for a few days to consider it, which she agreed to. 

In the meantime, your department met with the higher-ups at Maserati, asking them questions about their vision for the direction for the team. They assured you that they wanted to change as little as possible, not wanting to deviate from the patterns that made Venturi successful, but something about them rubbed you the wrong way, and you realized that you didn’t want to stay past the transition period.

You sent Susie a message to tell her that you accepted her offer. You left Venturi right after the changeover, telling your colleagues that you were going to take a bit of a break for a while. 

Being a personal assistant wasn’t the kind of work you necessarily enjoyed, but your job with the race team made you very good with the kind of attention to detail that being Susie's assistant required. You coordinated her travel schedules and all of the associated arrangements (hotels, cars, meals, special requests), sometimes having to work with her husband Toto’s assistant on the logistics. You responded to requests for interviews and scheduled those, handled all of the other inquiries she received (of which there were a lot) and even helped make arrangements for two keynote speeches she gave at various conferences. 

You also handled the smaller, daily minutiae - various errands, making appointments, doing the shopping for the household. You traveled with her sometimes as well when she was giving speeches at conferences or going to events. In just a few months, you went on trips to Ireland, Portugal, and even the United States.

For a woman that didn’t technically have a regular job after leaving Venturi, Susie was shockingly busy. 

“You’re a lifesaver”, she told you, more than once. “I know you don’t want to do this forever, but I don’t know how I got on without you.”

Hearing things like that, in addition to the more-than-generous wage Susie paid, made the work bearable, even enjoyable at times. Plus, she was generous and kind in a way that made you feel like you were her friend and trusted confidant, and not just her employee.

By the time the new year had come and gone, you’d fallen into a comfortable routine, until you woke up one Sunday morning in January, feeling a bit odd.

It felt like the early stages of a head cold. It was minor, an occasional sniffle and watery sneeze. You convinced yourself that it wasn’t worth worrying about. The heat in your flat was running at full-tilt, after all. Maybe you needed to tell your landlord that it was time to change the dust filter. 

You rarely got sick, and it was bearable when you did, so you didn’t give much thought to it. It was your day off, so you took some over-the-counter cold medicine and went about your usual Sunday. You went to the supermarket to do your own shopping, spoke to your mother on the phone (which was sometimes challenging, just because of time zone differences), tidied up your flat, watched something on Netflix, and caught up on some reading before going to bed early. 

It was going to be another busy Monday morning. Susie was due to give a keynote speech over Zoom for some conference, and things had to be prepared for her to travel to London for some meetings for the next week, so things had to be arranged for that. You fell asleep that Sunday trying to make mental lists of all of the things that needed to be done over the next few days.

You woke up with your alarm, and immediately knew that this was more than a simple head cold. Your nose didn’t feel stuffy any more, but your throat felt like it was on fire. You had woken up in a puddle of your own sweat, and your mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton balls. Your arms and legs ached like you’d gone to the gym, which you hadn’t in… a while.

The thought of calling in sick crossed your mind, but remembering how much work you had to do that day dissuaded you. 

Plus, you felt better after a hot shower and chewing on some cough drops while you were on the train to Monte Carlo from your flat in Nice. The brisk walk in the fresh air between the Monte Carlo train station and Susie’s condo on the eastern end of the principality helped, too. 

You could have driven your own car in less time, but you preferred to take the train and walk most days. The weather was almost always pleasant, even in the winter months, and the scenery never got old. (Plus, the tiny, narrow streets in the principality were an annoyance to drive around, and finding parking in your own neighborhood in the early evening was often a nightmare. It was easier to just take the train).

By the time you got to Susie’s building, though, you started to feel bad again. You felt strangely winded, and your limbs felt heavy and achy again. You had gotten plenty of sleep the night before, so you weren’t sure why you were so exhausted. A seasonal cold or allergies had never made you feel this way before.

The building’s concierge greeted you on your way across the lobby, and asked you if you were okay. You waved him off, insisting that your windedness was just from the cold breeze. You stood by the elevator for a moment to catch your breath before getting on and pressing the number for the Wolff’s floor, concerned by how hot and sweaty you felt, especially given that it was chilly outside that morning. 

You fumbled with the key to their front door for a moment. The door wasn’t unlocking, and you started to panic, knowing that neither Toto or Susie would be in at the moment. Toto would have left for his work week in Brackley last night, and Susie would be out, dropping her son, Jack, off at school. After a moment of struggling with the lock, you realized that you were trying to use the wrong key.

Feeling momentarily sheepish and glad nobody was around to witness your blunder, you unlocked the door, hanging your coat, scarf, and bag on the coat rack in the entryway. You toed off your shoes and left them by the door, before heading to Susie’s home office and starting your usual Monday morning tasks. She had set up a desk for you as well. It was small, but neatly arranged with your laptop, a whiteboard, and baskets for incoming and outgoing correspondences that the housekeeper would leave when she collected the mail. Most mornings, Susie would leave you a still-warm breakfast pastry or the coffee she knew you liked, depending on how cooperative Jack was with getting out the door for school in the morning, and you almost always arrived when Susie was taking him to school. There was nothing waiting for you on your desk this morning, not even a cup of coffee. It was fine - you had no appetite anyway. 

You were in the process of cross-checking Susie’s calendar for the day with inquiries in her email when you were seized with a painful coughing fit, wondering how the air in the condo was so dry when it was located so close to the edge of the Mediterranean. That had to be it, right? Or maybe there was just a tickle in your throat. There was no way you were actually getting sick. You got up to get yourself a glass of water and stood in the kitchen, waiting for the coughing fit to subside when you heard the condo’s door close.

“Good morning!” Susie called out from the entryway. She sounded cheerful as she talked, rounding the corner from the entrance to the kitchen. “My goodness,” she said, seeing you trying to contain your coughing . “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you said between coughs, trying to get a sip of water down. “Just a tickle in my throat, I think.”

Susie looked at you skeptically. “I don’t know… you don’t look so good. You’re flushed, and you look awfully pale,” she said as she stepped closer to you. You could feel her eyes on you. When the coughing subsided, she surprised you by reaching out to put the back of her hand against your cheek, then your forehead. You knew it was cold out, but her hand felt like ice against your skin. It startled you for a second, but felt kind of good. You were starting to feel a little warm. “And you are definitely running a fever, my goodness. Are you ill?”

“No,” you said. “I mean, not really. It’s just a cold, I think.”

Judging by the expression on her face, she definitely did not believe you. You weren’t sure you believed yourself, anymore. You hadn’t wanted to admit it, but what you had was definitely not a seasonal cold.

“Well, I’m going to take you back to your flat. You need to get some rest. And I won’t hear any arguments,” she said, knowing you were about to argue. “I will be fine for the day, and I won’t have you working while you’re sick.”

You gathered your things, and Susie gave you a ride back to your flat in Nice. It wasn’t a long drive - a half an hour at most, but you still felt bad that Susie was not only taking an hour of her day to bring you straight back home, but also that you wouldn’t be able to do your job today. You had always been a bit of a workaholic, it couldn’t be helped.

As she dropped you off at your building, she implored you not to feel bad, assuring you that she would be fine.

“If you need anything, and I mean this - please, please call me, or send me a message. I’ll come right away.”

You promised her that you would let her know if anything changed, despite not planning on bothering your boss with such things,  and trudged up the stairs to your flat. You changed out of your clothes, put on pajamas, and took some more medicine before crawling into bed and falling asleep almost immediately.

You slept peacefully for a few hours, but then, vivid nightmares started coalescing. In one instance, you dreamed of your mother dying. It seemed so real - she was hanging on to the edge of a bridge you recognized from your hometown, and you couldn’t summon the strength to lift her up by her outstretched hand. You watched as she fell into the canal below and was swept away by the current.

The dream was so vivid that you nearly started crying when you woke up. 

It was dark outside. You scrambled for your phone to check the time, confirming that you’d slept until just past midnight, somehow. 

Other sensations became obvious as you came out of sleep - the fact that you were burning hot and drenched in sweat. On the bright side, the sinus congestion had cleared up, but as a trade-off, your throat felt like it was an open wound, or like you’d swallowed a bucket of rusted thumbtacks. Your head was pounding. You couldn’t ever remember a time when you felt this ill.

You sat awake for a few hours, trying in vain to soothe your tortured throat and quell the vicious coughing and rasping. You tried gargling warm salt water, which helped temporarily. You ate some ice pops that you’d found in the back of your freezer, left there from an awful heat wave over the summer. You took some cough syrup, wincing as it burned like cheap alcohol as it went down. It just caused more coughing, making your whole body feel weak. You couldn’t do anything else other than sitting on the closed lid of your toilet with your head in your hands until it stopped.

After that episode, you ran a hot shower to try to get the steam to clear the congestion in your chest, and rinse off the sweat that was now drying grossly on your skin. It helped enough that you were able to go back to sleep for a few hours.

You woke up when you normally would have been getting up for work, but immediately knew you would not be going in today. The guilt was momentary, but you felt even worse than the night before, barely wanting to move. Just as you were about to message Susie to let her know you’d be out again, she called you, taking you a bit by surprise.

“I just called to see how you were feeling,” she said.

“Not good,” you responded, surprised at how hoarse and thin your voice was. You hadn’t talked since she dropped you off at home the day before.

“Oh, you sound awful. Well, I -” she paused for a moment. “I’ll be there in an hour. Pack whatever you need for a day or two, comfortable clothes and that.” 

She said it without preamble or explanation. “What?” you asked. “Why?”

Surely she wasn’t expecting you to work… maybe she was going to bring you to the hospital? It wasn’t that bad, was it?

“I’d like you to stay with me until you feel better. You sound absolutely wretched. I was worried about you all afternoon, being all alone when you’re ill. I know you don’t have any family in the area, and I’d hate for you to need help and not have anyone nearby to ask. I can’t make you come stay with me, of course, but I would feel a lot better if I could keep an eye on you. Please.”

It was a tempting offer, and your flat seemed a lot scarier last night when you woke up from the nightmares without having anyone else around. On the other hand, Susie was your boss, and as an adult, you weren’t her responsibility.

“I… don’t want to impose, or to get you or Jack sick,” you said, hoping that would be a reasonable enough excuse. You would find a way to manage by yourself. “Plus, you have that Zoom keynote this week and London next week-“

“Nonsense,” she said. “We have two guest bedrooms. You wouldn’t be imposing at all, and I’m doing the conference presentation from my office, anyway. And you were ahead of the curve on the prep for London, so I’m not worried. Really. Please, let me pick you up.”

She knocked down your objections one by one, and not even two hours later, you were settled into bed in one of the guest rooms of the Wolff’s condo. Susie had supplied you with some cold water and hot tea, and set up a small humidifier on the nightstand. It was shaped like an owl, so you assumed that it had come from Jack’s room. You heard a soft knock on the door and looked up to see Susie coming in. She had a tray in her hands with a steaming bowl, and something else that you couldn’t make out the shape of.

“I made you some soup,” Susie said as she set the tray down on the nightstand. “Well, I heated up a tin of it, really, but I thought you could use something to eat. And, I brought a thermometer,” she said, holding up the device. “I’m sure you still have a fever.”

She turned the thermometer on, and after it beeps a few times, holds it to your forehead. The device beeped urgently, and Susie frowned at the display.

“39.5,” she muttered. “I’ll be right back.”

It was high, higher than you were expecting. No wonder you felt so awful.

She left the guest room and returned shortly after, with a medication bottle and what looked like an ice pack, wrapped in a small tea towel.

“Here,” she said, handing you two small capsules from the bottle. “It’s paracetamol, for the fever.” 

She handed you the glass of water she’d given you earlier, and you took the pills with tentative sips. It didn’t make it hurt any less, and you groaned and winced. It was just water, but it still didn’t go down easily.

“Sorry, it hurts,” you whined, your voice barely there at that point. You settled yourself back down onto your pillow.

“It’s okay,” Susie said, quietly. She took the glass of water out of your hands and set it on the nightstand. “I know it hurts, but getting some rest will help.”

She placed the ice pack on your forehead, careful to keep it wrapped neatly in the towel, and it felt amazing on your overheated skin. 

“Getting that fever down will, too.”

Susie took your hand and gently squeezed it before she turned around to leave. “I’ll come back in and check on you in a bit. Try and get some sleep. And don’t try to yell across the house if you need something, you can send me a message, okay?”

“Okay,” you said. Or tried to. Your voice was only vestigial at that point. “Thank you, Susie.” 

“It’s my pleasure, darling. Feel better.” She patted the top of your hand as she stood up to leave. As soon as she closed and latched the bedroom door behind her, you closed your eyes and fell asleep almost immediately. 

That is how it went for two days. You lost most of your time to sleeping. You had more fever-fuelled nightmares. Susie roused you every few hours to take your temperature, to give you medication, to try to get you to drink some water or eat some soup or some ice pops. She said she was worried about you getting dehydrated, and it didn’t help that you could still hardly stand to swallow anything.

She continued to bring you ice packs for your forehead to help with your fever, extra blankets when chills wracked your body, tea with honey, and cough drops that didn’t seem to do much. She brought you clear broth that you tried to drink but the salt stung your throat too much for you to manage getting much of it down.

For the rare moments you were awake during the day while Jack was at school, she sat in a chair next to your bed and talked to you. The conversation was mostly one-sided as you still couldn’t talk much, but she was very good company, and it made you feel better that she didn’t seem to mind spending time with you, even if you were too exhausted and raspy to be a decent conversation partner. 

At one point, she brought you a plush toy that looked like some sort of alien cat with tiny wings instead of arms. 

“Jack wanted me to give this to you to keep you company.” she said. It’s the first thing that made you smile in days.

On the third day, you had an especially realistic, especially frightening nightmare. It must have been inspired by the news you’d read from the United States about a shooting at a university campus, because you dreamed about the university you used to work for before moving to France. You watched in terror as one of your old coworkers was taken down in front of you. You get shot trying to run away, and the wound you sustain to your hip burned. You swore you could feel the blood running down your leg. It all felt so real.

You bolted upright from sleep for the second time that week, opening your eyes to the darkness of the bedroom, but that time, you can’t help but cry.

Your sobbing didn’t make much noise as you still didn’t have much of a voice, but it was enough to prompt Susie to come and check on you.

You were a little embarrassed as she sat  on the edge of your mattress and gathered you into a hug, but the embarrassment was momentary. You let yourself be held as you cry into her shoulder. She rubbed your back with one hand, cradling the back of your head with the other, and told you that everything would be okay, and that you’ll be feeling better soon. She didn’t make you explain, she didn’t ask questions, she just let you lean into her and cry.

There was something in you that broke when you realized how badly you missed receiving this kind of maternal - or really, any, affection. You couldn’t really even remember the last time you’d hugged anyone. You moved halfway across the world, and while you don’t regret it, it feels awfully lonely at times. You don’t get home to see your family much, and your mother certainly couldn’t drop everything to fly halfway across the world to come and take care of you. 

It meant a lot that Susie is there for you, even though she didn’t have to be. She’s your boss, but she cares enough for you to look after you when you need it. The realization made you cry even harder.

You’re so thankful she insisted on you staying with her, because you’re weren’t sure how you would have managed to weather your illness, whatever it was, by yourself.

She calmed you down enough for you to go back to sleep, and, by some miracle, your fever broke by the next morning.

Within a day, your throat started to hurt less. Your voice came back, though it was thin and airy. Your appetite came back, and you started feeling human again. 

Satisfied with the progress of your convalescence, Susie brought you back to your flat after four days in her guest bedroom.

“Don’t even think about coming back to work until next week,” she said, as she parked her car in front of your flat. "I want you to be at one-hundred percent. We've got a lot of work to do, but I'll be fine until you're better."

You smiled, and thanked her for her kindness before you watched her pull her car away, keeping your eyes on it until it disappeared around a corner. Just telling her thank you didn’t feel like enough, but you’re not sure there is a way to thank her that would have felt like enough. 

[beefromanoff]

Project Mockingbird Ch. 3

summary: the first official encounter with James Buchanan Barnes is...not exactly love at first sight.

pairing: Bucky Barnes x OC

author's note: let me know what you think! thanks for reading, xox!

tag list: @bangtanxberm (let me know if you want to be added <3)

chapter list

_________________________________________________________

I was exhausted. 

For my first full day, we’d toured the entire facility, and I still felt like there was so much I hadn’t seen. There were rooms full of screens with dozens of agents talking on headsets, rooms with mechanical arms and welding sparks flying, rooms with so many weapons I felt like I was on a military base. It seemed to go on forever. Hangars, shooting ranges, labs, even an extensive medical wing for mission or training injuries. Natasha and Steve had been more than accommodating, staying with me through dinner. I’d met a few other Avengers, ones I recognized from either the news or online. It felt like a strange, high-tech college dorm, with ultra-powerful roommates. Not that I knew what that was like. 

I’d spent what should have been my college years in living hell. Not something I wanted to think about at that particular moment, though. I was just glad to be back in my room. Just glad to have a room to call my own, really. I twisted on the bed, my back sinking into the plush bedding. The feeling of a comfortable bed after a hot shower would never lose that euphoric feeling. Not when I’d gone so long without it before. 

This room was unfamiliar, yet strangely comforting. Soft light filtered through the curtains, casting a gentle glow on the walls. The bed felt good beneath me, oddly similar to those of the luxurious suites I’d grown so accustomed to in Vegas over the past few weeks. 

A shiver tore through my body as an unwelcome thought reminded me of the cold, rickety hospital bed I’d spent so many nights sleeping on before my escape. How long ago was that? Years? Decades? I shook my head, willing the thoughts to fall out of my ears and never return. There was so much I still didn’t remember. 

Taking a deep breath, I focused on something good. A friend. Natasha had assured me this was a safe place, but could I really trust it? Could I trust her?

I squeezed my eyes shut and tried again to silence the doubts swirling in my mind.

This room, it's like a cage that's too comfortable to be real. How did I end up here? How did Natasha convince me to trust her, to trust them? I’ve spent so long avoiding people, avoiding connections. And now, I’m here, surrounded by... superheroes? I’m supposed to believe they have no other motive? 

She said I don’t have to work with them, I don’t have to fight. Why would she say that if it isn’t true? To get me to come with her. God, I’m so dumb. Of course they’ll want me to fight. Why else would they want me here at all. The only thing I can do is fight. 

At least if I’m here, I’d be fighting for the good guys this time. At least, I hope so. 

Natasha, she’s different. Right? I saw it in her eyes. She understands what it means to fight against the darkness. She told me the Avengers are a family, a team. She had no one before them. I have no one now. Can I really have that too? Would they accept me if they knew…knew everything?

Closing my eyes tighter, I try to push away the memories of the experiments, the pain, the fear. Flashes of white, hot anger and blinding rage. 

Natasha said they'd protect me. She said I could start anew here. But how can I trust these people I barely know? What if this is just another trap, another illusion to get me to do someone’s bidding?

I feel a lump forming in my throat. 

I have to give it a chance, don't I? I have to believe in something. Believe in someone. Maybe this room, this bed, is more than just a comfortable cage. Maybe it’s a sanctuary, a haven where I can rebuild what HYDRA took away from me.

Maybe I can have a life here. 

Taking a deep breath, I remind myself that I'm not alone anymore. I'm not that scared, fragile girl they took to their labs so long ago. I’m not the angry, violent assassin who escaped them. 

I’m Charlotte Rossi, and I survived. I survived all of it. I survived for a reason.  

Maybe, just maybe, I can learn to trust these Avengers. Maybe I can find a new purpose here, a reason to fight back.

As sleep started to claim me, I took a shuddering breath, making a promise to myself:

I'll give them a chance. I’ll trust them. For Natasha. For me.

And with that, I let the darkness take me, hoping that when I woke, I'd find the strength to face this new chapter of my life, whatever it may bring.

The night had been turbulent, the remnants of my nightmares still lingering in the corners of my mind like cobwebs. I had always found solace in the quiet hours before dawn, where the world seemed to hold its breath, and the horrors of the past felt momentarily distant. 

Slipping out of bed, I padded through the dark common room to the balcony, my bare feet cold against the smooth tiles. Like everything here, the balcony was pristine and expanse. It stretched in a large semi-circle, boasting the best view of the entire compound. Except maybe the one you’d get from any of their impressive aircraft. 

The first hints of sunrise painted the sky in soft hues of pink and orange, casting a serene glow over the lake. As I settled into a chair, the tranquility of the morning wrapped around me like a comforting blanket. Nightmares weren’t new to me, but I never quite learned to quickly bounce back from them. There was still a cold sheen of sweat on my chest as I leaned back, taking in my surroundings. 

My attention was drawn to the trail surrounding the compound's lake, where a figure emerged from the early morning mist. I tensed out of instinct. He moved with a surprising amount of grace for someone of his size, every step purposeful and powerful. Even from a distance, I recognized him - James Buchanan Barnes, the Winter Soldier. 

There was an undeniable magnetism about him, something in the way he carried himself, a nearly predatory confidence that was both captivating and intimidating. A shiver ran through me as I watched him turn a corner and disappear from sight. 

I knew I’d see him eventually, it was inevitable. Some part of me found peace in the kindness of the rest of the team. If there was going to be an issue with my being here, surely I’d have picked up on it by now. Why would they have even brought me here if anyone had a problem with it?

Lost in my thoughts, I didn’t notice Steve approaching until his shadow fell over me. He held out a steaming mug of coffee, the aroma rich and inviting. "Couldn’t sleep either?" he asked, his blue eyes kind and understanding.

I accepted the coffee with a grateful nod, the warmth seeping into my hands as I wrapped them around the mug. "Thank you," I murmured, taking a tentative sip.

"Want something to do today?" Steve’s voice was casual, inviting. "I have a training session with some of the agents. You're welcome to watch. Might give you a sense of what we do here."

I raised an eyebrow, intrigued by the prospect of witnessing their training firsthand, but cautious about any hidden motive. 

“Don’t worry, I’m not trying to rope you into participating.” Steve lowered his own mug. “I don’t like ulterior motives. If there’s ever something I think, you’ll know it. I’m just a guy who was new here at one point too, I know the first few weeks can be a little…aimless.” 

Chuckling, I nodded. “Yeah, you could say that. I was hoping for some kind of activities list, like at summer camp.”

“You went to summer camp?” He looked incredulous. 

“I’ve seen movies.” 

“Ah,” He sipped his coffee. “That’s where I learned about -” He gestured vaguely. “Everything, I suppose.”

There was a moment of silence as he decided if he was going to address the obvious. 

“I had a lot to catch up on, too.” He spoke softly. “For a while, I had to write down everything new about the world that I wanted to remember. I watched a lot of movies, probably not historically accurate, but I definitely enjoyed learning that way.” He smiled, looking back at me. “Not a lot of people can relate. Just know I’m here.” 

“Thanks, Steve.” I pressed my lips together in a small smile. 

“For what it’s worth, you’re much more well-adjusted than I ever was. You must catch on quick.”

“You have no idea.” 

We leisurely finished our coffee before going to our respective rooms to get dressed. I had returned to my room to find a small pile of folded black clothes on the bed beneath a handwritten note.

‘In case you don’t feel like wearing sequins all week - xo, Nat’

I grinned, pulling out a set of black workout tights and a matching long sleeved top. It was chilly out here, which I guess was to be expected from upstate New York in October. Not nearly the balmy temperatures of Nevada. I did a quick change, laced up my sneakers, and met Steve back in the common room so we could make our way to the training wing. 

The moment I stepped inside, I was awestruck by the high-tech setup. The room was a marvel of modern design, sleek and functional, with state-of-the-art exercise equipment lining the walls. Rows of punching bags hung from the ceiling, several sparring rings placed throughout the massive room. 

The sound of bodies moving and the echo of instructions filled the air. Agents in SHIELD uniforms were scattered across the training mats, engaged in various forms of combat. Steve led me to a vantage point where I could observe the proceedings without being in the way.

A small group of six agents stood around one of the mats, waiting for him. They paused their stretching to greet him as we walked up. 

“Team, this is Charlotte. She’s going to be around for a while, I trust you’ll all make her feel welcome.” Steve’s words were met with nods and various greetings towards me, to which I smiled and tried to look as non-threatening as possible. Maybe they’ll think I’m just someone’s long-lost cousin, here to visit for a few months. 

Steve’s movements were a symphony of precision and power as he demonstrated different combat techniques to the agents. His punches were lightning-fast, his blocks seamless. Each motion was deliberate, a testament to his expertise. The way he moved, the way he fought, it was both beautiful and awe-inspiring. I could tell he was pulling his punches, using as much effort to go easy on the agents as they were to try and land a single blow on him. Super soldier strength was no joke. 

I watched, captivated, as he guided the agents, offering corrections and encouragement in equal measure. There was a quiet intensity about him, a dedication to his craft that was impossible to miss. At that moment, I understood why he was the leader of the Avengers, why he was Captain America. He was confident, not arrogant. Kind, yet firm. He had their respect but he so clearly respected them as well. He was the kind of guy you’d want to follow into battle. 

As the training session continued, I found myself drawn into the rhythm of their movements, the energy in the room palpable. Despite myself, I felt familiar patterns happening within me. My eyes tracked their movements, clocking every position, every wince, every shift of weight from one foot to the other. With an almost computerized precision, my mind began to catalog the fighting style of all six agents and the super soldier right in front of me. 

Later that day, I retreated to the workout facility in the Avengers’ building. It was smaller, but equally as nice. There were small modifications, clearly for accommodating superhumans. For starters, the ceilings were much higher, likely to accommodate for those who could clear a 30 foot tree in a single jump. The weights ranged far beyond the standard 45 lb plates and 100 lb dumbbells, which was where the other facility capped out. 

I punched a few buttons on the treadmill and worked up to a moderate pace. The row of treadmills faced the lake, already one of my favorite things to look at. I focused on the trees, the wind rustling through them. I controlled my breathing, thankful for the peace and quiet. The solitude lasted a good half hour before I heard the door slide open. 

“Hey stranger,” Natasha’s familiar rasp announced her presence. 

“Long time no see,” I tugged the safety cord out of the treadmill and let myself slide off the back, landing on my feet. 

“Heard you got to see Rogers in action today?” She strode over and took a seat on the bench nearest me. 

I shrugged. “The basket weaving class was full.” 

“Well, if you want to see the more exciting training sessions, I help out with weapons and hand-to-hand a few days a week.” She winked.

“If I had known that, I wouldn’t have wasted my first training session on Steve!” I mocked a tantrum. 

“Hey, super-soldier hearing here.” Steve strode through the door, right on cue.

“Beat it, Rogers, we’re having a girl talk.” 

Dropping his bag, Steve pulled out a roll of tape and began wrapping his hands for what I assume would be a round of sparring, either with the punching bag or an actual person. “You’re just mad I set the bar so high with Charlotte’s first training experience.” He grinned. 

Raising my eyebrow, I watched as Natasha rolled her eyes and grinned. There was so clearly something between them, it took me less than 48 hours to pick up on it. I wondered if it was something they’d explored yet, or if they lived in denial. 

Before I could make a snappy remark, the doors opened again and in strode the one man I wasn’t sure I was ready to see yet. 

Blue eyes snapped up to look at me, and he stopped in his tracks as the door slid shut behind him. Based on the way his jaw clenched, I don’t think he was quite ready to see me either. The world felt like it slowed to half speed, I felt my thoughts get muddled. I was slipping away from reality. No, please no, not here, not now -

White hot light exploded in my skull as I collapsed to my knees, fighting against myself.

“Charlotte!” Natasha was at my side instantly, holding my arm.

“Stop…Me…” My breathing was labored, I spat each word out through gritted teeth as I felt myself losing the internal battle for control.

“What do you mean, what’s going on?” She gripped my upper arm tightly, looking at Steve in concern. He hovered over me, halfway crouched. 

Then it all went black. 

________________

Steve looked from Natasha to Bucky, still frozen by the door. Charlotte had collapsed to her knees, face contorted in pain. In the few seconds since she’d cried out, sweat had already broken on the back of her neck. 

“Stop…Me…” Her voice was somewhere between a growl and a plea. 

“What do you mean, what’s going on?” Natasha asked, looking up at Steve. Before anyone could react, Charlotte sent them both tumbling backwards. In one fluid movement, she’d rolled forward and closed the distance between her and Bucky. Her momentum carried her from the roll straight into a fighting stance. Before Nat or Steve could scramble to their feet, she’d swung into a roundhouse kick straight at Bucky’s head. 

He ducked, eyes wide with surprise but movements instinctive. Charlotte went straight from her kick into a crouch, swinging her leg to sweep his out from under him. He landed on his back and rolled away from her as she advanced. Left hook, right jab, knee to the ribs, Bucky narrowly blocked each one. She was quick. 

For a split second, Bucky took his eyes off of her fists and looked at her face. A chill nearly paralyzed him as he saw the blank expression on her face, the unseeing and glassy eyes. His pause was costly, and he felt the full weight of that when her foot collided with the side of his head. He spat blood on the ground just as Steve’s feet stepped between him and Charlotte. 

Steve blocked her jabs as rapidly as they came, with Natasha running up from behind. 

“Get the hell out of here!” He yelled at Bucky, still on the ground as blood pooled from the cut on his eyebrow. “Go!” 

Bucky didn’t question it, rolling to his feet and sprinting out the door. 

Natasha came from above and wrapped her legs around Charlotte’s neck, throwing her to the ground. Without releasing her, she continued to squeeze. Steve dropped down, pinning her arms as she writhed against Natasha. After a violent resistance, she went limp as she finally passed out. 

“What…the hell just happened.” Nat fell back on her elbows, breathing hard. 

“I have no idea,” Steve held a hand out, helping her to stand. “Do you think she needs medical?” 

“Well, I don’t think we should just go tuck her into bed after this.” Natasha rubbed her sleeve across her forehead, wiping sweat off. “You go check on Barnes, I’ll call up to the room and see if anyone’s here to help me take her in.”

Nodding, Steve took off in a jog after Bucky, following the trail of blood splattered on the ground.