#like what if one of them missed seeing the statue of liberty on their past 3 visits and now that's 'suddenly' a famous historic landmark
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Loki surveilling the skyline of New York from the top of Stark Tower and clocking that his favorite paired set of buildings are gone. sad
#everyone wants thor and loki to have visited earth a bunch of times and obviously they wouldn't be too invested in earth politics#but i think the concept of much time passing between visits should be taken advantage of#like what if one of them missed seeing the statue of liberty on their past 3 visits and now that's 'suddenly' a famous historic landmark#Loki like wow I sure hope that restaurant in the Soviet Union is still around!#and Natasha's head whips around so fast like you mean Russia or one of the surrounding countries that used to be part of the USSR#Loki: uhm. well. what's the difference#Natasha: here is a map of the countries does this help#Loki: it does not help but thank you for trying#Thor: what do you mean Rome is gone???? Rome was HUGE?????#Tony: well it's been a few centuries since then Europe is very different now#Thor: (visibly distressed) so the the sweet effeminate men enjoy the streets no more??#Tony: ...I don't keep track of foreign border laws about that#Thor shows up after 3 years and there's a new president and he's very confused through the entire meeting#brodinsons being so detached from the political scene but being so used to realm politics they come to correct conclusions about things#even though the timeline and how long things stay the same on midgard still messes with them#Loki: at least Egypt is still around#Thor: China also#Brodinsons visiting New Zealand(Aotearoa)/Australia/various British mandate islands before the British formally showed up#returning 2 centuries later and 'the gene pool has altered drastically' 'must've been a war'#well it's either that or since Asgard seems spared of colorism they treat all humans as the same and don't notice. which might be worse#on the colonisation and liberation side of things
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Chenford + Lucy asks Tim why he didn't follow Rachel to New York
I hope you like this one! It’s very soft!
Chenford + Lucy asks Tim why he didn't follow Rachel to New York
Funny, each time I fall in love. It's always you
Lucy scrolls through her Instagram looking at all her friends and other people she hasn’t talked to in years. There are so many pictures of babies, animals and a few engagement pictures thrown in. She smiles as she scrolls past each photo, and she lands on of Rachel. She’s posing at the Statue of Liberty with a good looking man, his arm around her. She presses the heart to like it.
And she looks happy. And that’s all Lucy could want for her.
She smiles at the picture and looks towards the bathroom when she hears the shower shut off.
A few minutes later, Tim emerges from the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. His hair is still dripping wet and he runs his hand through his hair. He comes over to her side of the bed and gives her a kiss before he’s grabbing his boxers and slipping them on.
He climbs in on what is now his spot, and she turns over putting her phone aside.
“Hi.” She says. He gives her another kiss once on the lips, the other on her nose. “How was your day?”
He shrugs and pulls her closer, his fingers digging into her bare skin. “It would have been better if you were there.” He says simply, plainly. She smiles looping her hands around his neck. She had the day off, Tim had been called in last minute. She had spent all day cleaning the apartment and missing Tim.
He had actually come home at a decent time and they were able to eat dinner together and watch an episode of Top Chef before they called it a night. Tim had showered and Lucy had crawled into bed waiting for him.
“How was your day?” He asks her his lips in her hair. She responds by moving closer to him and snuggling up against his bare chest.
“It’s better now.” She says. Tim hums in agreement and it’s quiet in the room, Lucy thinks maybe he had fallen asleep when her phone buzzes.
She grabs it without moving it too much and looks at her screen. It’s a DM from Rachel. She frowns and slides it open.
Rachel: Saw you liked my picture :). I hope you are doing well.
Lucy: I am doing great. Hope you are doing good as well.
Lucy turns her phone off and puts it on the nightstand and turns in Tim’s arms.
“Who was that?” He asks. She chews on her lip, wondering if she should tell him. Rachel was his ex girlfriend after all. And they had ended it after he didn’t move to New York with her.
“Rachel.” She says finally. He raises his eyebrows at her.
“Rachel? What did she want?” He asks. Lucy shrugs and kisses his chest before looking up at him.
“Nothing. I just liked her picture on instagram and she wanted to see how I was.” She says. “No big deal.”
Tim is silent for a few minutes. “She’s still in New York?” He asks.
Lucy nods. “Looks like it.” Tim reaches over and pulls her leg over his so they are tangled together.
“Good for her.” Tim says and he doesn’t sound bitter or angry. She wonders what happened between them that made him not move to New York with her.
“Hey Tim?” She asks.
“Hmm.”
“Why didn’t you move to New York with Rachel?” She asks. Tim shifts a little and then he sits up.
“What?”
“Why didn’t you move to New York with Rachel?” She asks again. Tim swallows a little and the he’s pushing some of her hair back and cupping her cheek.
“My life is here. In LA.” He says. “I would have had to start over in New York.”
“But you liked Rachel. You were—”
“I wasn’t in love with her Luce.” He says. “But yeah I liked her. But she wasn’t the one.”
“The one what?” She asks even though she knows the answer or she thinks she does.
Tim gives her a look and then takes a deep breath. “The one I would give up everything up for. My job. My home.”
Lucy swallows and feels tears burning in her eyes. Because he had given up his job for her. Without question or hesitation. “You gave up your job for me.”
“I did.” He says simply reaching out to touch her face. “Because you are worth it. You somehow make everything better even when it’s shit. I want to be with you.”
Lucy swallows back the tears and leans forward to kiss him again. He pulls her against him and she can feel and hear his heart beating against hers.
“Thank you for staying.” She whispers. He kisses the top of her head, and leaves his lips there. It’s comforting having his lips on her, it feels like she is safe.
“I love you.” He says. “I don’t think I could have left even if I tried. You are too damn important to me Lucy.”
Lucy smiles a watery smile and leans in to kiss him. “I love you too.”
Tim hums in appreciation and pulls her in more. There’s a comfortable silence as she cuddles into him.
“For the record Tim.” She says. “I would give up my job for you too.” Tim hums again and she feels a kiss to the top of her head.
“I know. And I love you even more for that.” He says. She smiles and she feels her eyes start to slip close.
“Goodnight Tim.”
“Goodnight Lucy.”
#chenford#the rookie#tim bradford#lucy chen#tim x lucy#chenford fanfic#chenford fic#anon answered#lucy x tim
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The Scientist and The Astronomer
Summary: You love the stars; staring up at them without a care in the world.
Warnings: swearing, injury, mentions of blood, romance, fluff, kind of long, Best Friends to Lovers, self-doubt,
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The moon shown high over New York City; Leonardo deciding that the four should split off, something goes wrong, immediately contact the others.
Donatello stood on the rooftop; scanning the area for anything crime related. After Shredder went missing, Donnie had been stressed, trying to find where the man had gone.
---
You walked out of the bakery, waving bye to your coworker. You'd taken a job at a small bakery to save some money for college. You walked out the back and headed to the alley; humming to yourself, you looked up at the sky. The neon lights of the city obstructed your view of the stars, but the moon shown like a beacon.
Glancing around, you made your way to the rooftops. You loved studying Astronomy. You'd hoped that some of the stars would peak through; sadly, that never happened.
This night was just like any other night, you pulled your knees to your chest as you stared up at the sky. The bright lights of the city bounced off the sky, making it lighter. The horrible moments of the day came rushing back; school, some customers at work; sometimes, it got too much, you needed an escape. So, you looked for the stars, hoping just one day, one moment; the smog from all the lights in the city would disappear.
---
Donnie continued on to the next block; it was definitely going to be a slow night. His radio picked up, "Still nothing?" Leo's voice asked.
"Nope," Raphael replied.
"Dudes, this is so boring!"
"I still got nothing," Donnie agreed. He paused, seeing a figure on a rooftop close to him. "Guys, I'll get back on that." he turned off his radio and jumped over. He landed with a loud thud, the person, jerked.
"Hello?"
"Hi, sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," he said, trying to keep himself hidden in the darkness of the building as possible.
"You didn't scare me." she sighed; Donnie sat down a little bit away from her. The worst came to his mind, he swallowed,
"What are you doing up here?"
"I should ask you the same thing; so, mystery person, what are you doing here?" That got a bit of a laugh out of the purple turtle,
"I just enjoy the view from time to time," he lied. It was so simple and casual that it didn't really seem like a lie at all; you nodded in agreement.
"I can see why; I mean sure the view is gorgeous. Sometimes, don't you wish you could see the stars?"
"Yeah, sometimes; although, I'm not really an astrology person," he admitted. "Are you?" you nod,
"When things got bad, I looked to stars; well, that was before we moved to New York, that is." Donnie thought for a moment,
"Well, you know the board walk near the Statue of Liberty?" you nod, "Out there, past the statue, you can get a great look," he explains.
"Thanks, I'll check it out later," she smiled. Donnie felt his heart race as you turn to look at the stranger. His face was barely lit by the city lights, you turn towards him fully, "What's your name, stranger?"
"Donatello." You thought for a moment,
"LIke... the Florence sculptor?"
"Yeah...someone that we've known since we were babies named us that; Dad liked it and kept it." Donnie cleared his throat, "What about you?"
"Y/n," his face flushed.
"That's a nice name," you let out a laugh. An embarrassed blush threatening to warm your face; Donnie radio started going off. "Shit, I have to go. You stay safe, yeah?" he said, nervously.
"Yeah," before he could leave, she added. "You stay safe too, Donatello. I would really like to see you again," He nodded, before she left for the fire escape.
---
Weeks went by since the night you met Donatello. You couldn't get him out of your head; you decided why not to go to the board walk near the Statue of Liberty.
You leaned over the railing, the sun set over the ocean line. Today seemed worse than the last; another customer had screamed in your face for getting their order wrong; another had thrown their drink back at you, that's when your boss told you that you could leave. You did, went home and showered.
Here you were, on this board walk trying to find some escape. You heard a thud behind you, "Hey."
"Hi," Donnie walked over to you and leaned over the railing.
"Pretty, right?"
"I never thought I'd see them again, as silly as that sounds," you mutter.
"No, not at all." you glance over at him, his face was somewhat lit up by the small lights. You noticed his skin was green and scaly, on his face he had on a mask under a pair of glasses.
"So, what's with...all of this? Wow, that came out not what I wanted," Donnie laughed.
"Trust me, not as mean as you think." he paused, "You're not scared."
"of course not."
"Um...it's kind of complicated." he went on to tell you about how he and his brothers and father were experiments and after a fire; they were rescued, and they made a home in the sewers. He also went on to tell you about how they defeated Shredder the first time and how they got rid of the weird thing in the sky.
"So, what are you guys, some kind of superheroes?" he let out laugh,
"Something like that."
He stared down at you, the wind was blowing your (h/c) hair. His radio picked up again; you look at him worriedly as he turned it off completely.
"Isn't that your brothers?"
"They'll be fine," he shrugged.
"What if it's important," he shook his head.
"They'll be fine without me; they've done it before."
You only nod, the thought of his brothers in trouble still in the back of your mind. "Don't worry, Raph can literally throw shipping containers with his bare hands," your eyes widened. "They'll be fine," you laugh mostly out of shock.
"Wait, you're serious?"
"Uh-huh," you couldn't believe it. Sure, them being mutant turtles was one thing, but ones that can lift thousands of pounds without breaking a sweat?
The two of you stayed on the boardwalk, talking about anything and everything. You asked about what it was like growing up, he told you that it was very strict, they couldn't go up to the surface until they were fifteen. He went on to say how worried his father was for them. You placed a hand on his; it almost shocked you that he only had three fingers.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked."
"No, it's fine." he went on to tell you about the police knowing of their existence, you listened and hung on to every word. The two of you didn't even realize that hours had passed.
You told him about your love for the stars and how you always loved to study them. How you looked to them in your darkest moments; how you started to also love small things like sunsets. Donnie loved to listen to your voice as you gushed about what you were interested in. He loved when you listened to him; him talking about how he built things and his interest in science.
Your phone went off, confused, you looked at it. "Oh, fuck, my mom is going to kill me!"
"What's wrong?"
"It's almost midnight," Donnie thought for a moment.
"Shit, my brothers are probably looking for me."
"Looks like we're both fucked," the two laughed.
"I'll take you home," he offered.
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah, plus, my way is faster." you stare at him a bit confused as he picked you off your feet with ease. You stare at him in shock, "Is this okay?" You nod; weird, normally, he'd never ask at that to April or Casey before.
You hang on tight as he jumped across the rooftops, you tell him where you apartment was. He landed by your window; he placed you down on your feet, you wobbled a bit, before you could fall, Donnie grabbed you.
"Sorry, I should've warned you," he chuckled.
"You do that every day?"
"Every day."
"That was amazing," he thanked his green skin, or his face would be on fire right now. You cleared your throat, "I should get going." He nodded; he didn't realize the position the two of you were in, his arms were tightly wrapped around your waist; your hands on his biceps.
"I'm sorry," he didn't pull away from you. He pulled you into a hug; however, "Thank you."
"For what?"
"Listening to me and not being scared of me," you frown.
"Donatello," you whispered.
"Donnie; you can call me Donnie," you smile.
"Donnie," he liked it. Before, it was just a nickname his brothers had given him, but the way it rolled off your tongue made him like it more. You stare up at his gold eyes; without thinking, you got on your toes, your lips pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.
Thank God for his skin! Pulling away, you blushed. "I'm sorry, that was uncalled for."
"No, no, I liked it!" he choked, "Sorry, I mean." he groaned; why couldn't he pull this off like Mikey? Then again, he'd probably laugh and say some crude joke. "I didn't mind it," your ears felt on fire.
"I'll see you later?"
"See you."
You glance up at him from the alley with a wave; he waved back, once you were in the safety of the building, Donnie waited until he saw a light on the fourth-floor light up.
---
Another week passed since Donnie and you had talked. You were with Donnie once again, this time back on the rooftops. The two of you sharing a pizza, "Then, Mikey came out of nowhere and just knocked the guy out." you laugh, "Like I love my little brother, sometimes, he scares me."
"I don't have any siblings so..."
"You don't?" you shook your head no.
"My mom had a lot of fertility issues; when she had me, she didn't want to risk having another child taken from her." you swallow,
"I'm sorry to hear that; did you want siblings?"
"Yeah, I've always wanted a little brother; at school, I became the Freshman's older sister in a way." You explain,
"Is school fun?"
"Not really, it can be, but no. It's boring and you're forced to learn things that you don't even want to know," Donnie nodded.
"I never got to experience school, as far as I hear, it's kind of like a mini hell."
"Pretty much," you mutter taking another bite. You thought for a second, "Hey, Donnie, you said that your brothers had tattoos; do you?" you ask, changing the subject.
"Oh, yes, but I have it on my leg," he explained. He whipped off his hands before pulling his right leg up, you gasp as the large piece taking up most of his leg.
"That's so cool!" He chuckled,
"Thank Mikey, normally, I'm the one to tattoo my brothers, but I wanted it on my leg. He has the steadiest hands, surprisingly." He pulled down his pant leg, before taking another slice.
"I always found them cool, but my mom would kill me if I got one." you added, "Plus, they're expensive."
He nodded in agreement; you sigh, leaning against his shoulder. "What's wrong?"
"Work is getting worse; I swear, some people are just downright awful."
"What happened?"
"Same old, same old; a person came in complaining about how I over charged her when I didn't. I told her we had to up our prices cause the owner is having less business. She went on complaining about how she's been here for years and how she didn't deserve this treatment." You made a mouth with your hands, as you told him with a stupid obnoxious voice.
Donnie choked out a laugh, "I'm sorry, I don't mean to laugh at you. She sounds like a bitch," you nod.
"She was." Donnie leaned his head to the side, his cheek pressing against your hair. You let out a laugh, tilting your head back, pressing you nose against him. "Thanks," you whisper.
"For what?"
"Listening and being there for me," he smiled.
"Any time," his arm wrapped around your waist as he moved his head to look at you. He stared deep into your eyes, his heart threatening to beat out of his chest.
They didn't know who moved first, but soon, they were barely an inch apart. "Donatello," he moved; his lips pressing against yours. Your arms tightly wrapped around his neck as he pulled you closer; pulling away, you stare at him,
"I'm sorry...I...I," you pull him back in. He tensed for a second before melting into you once again; pulling away again, your face was beat red. Donnie hesitantly reached up; his hand felt freezing against your face.
"I'm so happy I met you, Donatello."
"I'm happy I met you too, Y/n."
The rest of the time, you two spent together was in each other's arms. Donnie's radio started to go off; you frowned, "You should go. It sounds like they need you," he nods.
"I'll meet you at your apartment, promise."
"Donnie," he stopped. "Please, be careful."
"I will."
---
Donnie arrived at the place; Michelangelo was down on the ground, bleeding. Donnie punched the foot ninja in the face, sending them across the alley.
"About time," Raph sneered.
"I'm sorry, I was a little busy!" Donnie retorted as Leo appeared.
"No fighting right now, please!"
After The Foot was taken care of; Donnie rushed to Mikey's aid, the orange turtle was pressed against the wall, his side bleeding.
"We have to take him back to the lair," Leo ordered.
"No, the lair's too far for this type of wound. Raph, carry him, I know where we can take him."
---
You were at home, waiting patiently for Donnie to come back. You sat on your bed, your leg bouncing as a knock interrupted your thoughts. You pull yourself quickly off the bed and rush over to the window; you pulled it open. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "Mikey's hurt, you're the first person that was close enough to help."
"Bring him inside," you walk out the room and grabbed a first-aid kit from the bathroom. Walking back into your room, all four brothers were inside, "Put him on the couch." Raph walks out the of the room and into the living room, placing Mikey down. Donnie gave a quiet thank you, before going to attend to his brother.
Leo looked towards you; he didn't know who you were, but Donnie definitely did. He was going to trust his brother's judgement; after an hour or so, Mikey was out on your couch. Donnie walking up to you,
"Thank you for letting me help him here," you nod.
"Of course, is he going to be okay?"
"Yeah, he'll be healed by next week," you put the med-kit away and noticed the distant look on Donnie's face.
"Are you going to be okay?"
"Huh?"
"Yeah, I'm fine." You light grab his hands,
"Please, talk to me." He glanced over at the three before nodding; you take him into the privacy of your room. "What's going on, Bub?"
"It's my fault that Mikey got hurt; if I just got there faster, he wouldn't have gotten hurt." You give a comforting squeeze to his hands, "It's just...ugh! I've never felt this incompetent before, it's frustrating!" He was silent for a moment,
"Donnie, do you want me to comfort you?" he nods, "Donatello, you the most intelligent person I know; however, it's okay to make mistakes. Michelangelo getting injured was not your fault, there was no way you could've prevented him getting hurt when you weren't there in the first place. There's no one to blame, but The Foot Clan," he stared at his feet. You slightly tug at his hands making him look at you, "You understand that, right?"
"Yeah," tears started to roll down his cheeks and stain his mask. You quickly brush them away with your thumbs,
"I understand why you feel like you had some fault to his injury. But he'll be okay, you said it yourself; he'll be back to his jokester self in about a week."
Donnie held your hands to his face, "Thank you."
"Any time, I'm here for you, Donnie." Leaning down, he pressed a light kiss to your lips.
---
Leo watched from the corner of his eye, a small smile spreading across his face. Shaking his head, he glanced back down at his baby brother.
"What's going on?" Raph whispered, leaning towards the leader in blue.
"Nothing, just two friends talking."
---
The week came and gone, Mikey was healed and fully moving around. You moved across the rooftops waiting for Donnie; you heard a cough behind you, turning you weren't facing Donnie, but his oldest brother, Leo.
"Leonardo, what are you doing here?"
"I knew you'd be waiting for him; I just wanted to give you my thanks."
"For what?"
"Not only helping us, but Mikey last week. He'd bleed out more if he took him to the lair; plus, Donnie is really happy around you. I swear, sometimes, before he met you, I didn't see him sleep at all. I actually catch him sleeping at regular hours sometimes; I don't know what you did but thank you."
"I didn't do anything," you pointed out. He let out a chuckle,
"Well, I suppose it's because he likes you," your face turned bright red.
"How?"
"Please, if it's obvious by the way you look at each other. I saw you two when you talked to Donnie," your heart raced. You didn't expect that he could see through the cracked door that well, "Thank you, for taking care of my brother. I should get going; see you around, Y/n."
"See you around, Leonardo."
After your talk with Leo, you and Donnie met up. He covered your eyes as he took you somewhere, "You're not planning on killing me, are you?" You joked; he scoffed,
"Never," when your feet touched the ground; Donnie pulled the cover off your face, you gasped. You could see the stars from where you were standing.
"How did you?"
"I found this place a while back; I wanted to um...do something special," he explained. You noticed that he didn't have his normal gear on; Donnie was wearing a pair of jeans with a T-shirt. "I'd hope to um...ask you out on a date; I know that I can't properly take you out," he rubbed the back of his neck, nervously. You smile, grabbing his hand,
"Of course, I'd love too." He let out a sigh of relief; you rolled your eyes playfully as he took you over to the blanket. Sitting down, you lean against his shoulder as the stars winked back at you. Donnie leaned towards,
"Wait just a few more minutes," he whispered. You glance at him a bit confused before you turned back at the sky. The sky was suddenly lit up with streaks going through; your eyes lit up,
"A meteor shower!" You stood causing Donnie to laugh as you stare up at the sky.
You felt a pair of arms wrap around your waist; you lean back into Donnie's chest. It ended, you glance back at Donnie, who was staring down at you already. Turning in his arms, you smile up at him. The both of you didn't speak as Donnie leaned down, pressing a kiss to your lips.
#x reader#fanfic#reader insert#fanfiction#tmnt#teenage mutant ninja turtles#tmnt donnie#donnie x reader#gn reader#bayverse tmnt#tmnt bayverse#tmnt leonardo#tmnt raphael#tmnt michelangelo#mikey tmnt#raph tmnt#leo tmnt#fluff
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Six Sentence Sunday 05.21.23 / Mood Music Monday
I have a new obsession peeps. I am watching this series called FROM currently, and it has all my senses tingling. Talking to some friends I have realized, 1. I like shows set in small towns where weird stuff is happening. 2. If the people are trapped in said town and there is spooky, weird or supernatural stuff going on, or something that just can’t be explained, I’m all about that life. And From tickles my fancy, watch it be cancelled tomorrow, as this tends to happen with all of my weird favorited shows.
Work has been crazy, but just recently in the past few days, even though work is still insane, I’ve been inspired to write, even though my whole day is spent typing for my job. Go figure.
So here’s amazingly what i’ve posted in the last little bit:
The Life of Riley: Book Two: Garden Party Photo Op
The Rotten Apple 🍎:�� The Last Part:
Original post: 05/21/23 at 7:52PM EST.
Here’s what I have in the pipeline
This one is a surprise. It came to me after I had a conversation with @angelasscribbles about Drake.
It could be honestly seen as a prequel to my fic with If Only For The Night
The Book: TRR Mood Music Monday Submission: That Don’t Impress Me Much by Shania Twain The Moments In Between Pairings: None: TRR MC is single Status: Still in the writing process, nearly complete!
To be honest, I wasn’t even surprised about how the trip was going being in Lythikos for Olivia’s tribute to Prince Liam. The room she put me in was basically a refurbished broom closet, dinner was served to my table cold with portions of the entree missing. But what struck me and what did surprise me is that Liam didn’t notice, and never checked up on us, supposedly his true blue friends were all sitting at the neglected table and he didn’t even glance in our direction the whole evening,
And not to mention….the kiss. He let her kiss him in front of the whole court. He genuinely appeared surprised when it happened, but everyone at the table, all their eyes were trained on me for a response. I mean honestly, what could I say? Prince Liam is not my boyfriend, I’m a suitor in this game we’re all playing. I am competing for a man that at this point has no true allegiance to me.
Nonchalantly I shrugged my shoulders. “She went for it. You know, she doesn’t usually get this much individual time with the Prince, so I can’t fault her for shooting her shot.”
“You’re a lot calmer than I thought you would be, Brooks.”
“I mean, these so-called 'noble' royals have been showing me who they are this whole time, I’d be a fool not to believe them.”
“You deserve a drink Brooks, meet up with me later, and we’ll find where the good stuff you like is stored in this keep.”
“I really might have to take you up on that.”
Liam finally cornered me for a brief moment, as I stood on the balcony letting the cool wind revitalize me.
“Are you angry with me for what happened?”
“No.”
“I thought you might be.”
“How can I Liam? you haven’t so much as stated any intentions you have for me, or of any feelings you might feel for me because you say, you can’t. You have a duty to your people and I get that. But don’t forget, all of us are “your people, and we are getting mistreated by some of these people that are supposed to be the “Nobility.”
Mood Music Monday Submission: This Woman’s Work by Kate Bush Final Chapter: The Wedding The Book: TRH Series: The Rotten Apple 🍎 Pairings: Elle x Nico (Eleanor x M!OC) Status: Still in the writing process
The family was sitting at the table eating breakfast when there was an urgent knock to the door.
“I wonder who that could be this early?”
“You’re not expecting anyone?”
“No.” Nico wiped his mouth with his napkin and rose from the table, as Tomas immediately headed towards the door behind Nico.
“Should we be concerned?” Liberty asked.
“I don’t think so, it’s probably nothing.”
A few moments later Nico and Tomas returned with one more gentleman in tow.
"Liberty you have a guest, Michail has come to see you. Apparently you told him you were leaving today, he wanted to make sure he saw you before you left."
“Hello Liberty.”
Elle wanted to laugh at the side eye her father was giving poor Michail.
“Hi Michail.” She had never heard her sister’s voice sound so giddy before.
Liberty gasped immediately reaching for her hair.
"You look perfect Libby," Elle whispered to her sister. Now Elle felt the way her sister had felt; she was the matchmaker. "Go say hello to him."
She watched her sister smiling and talking to her young gentleman caller who had brought her a bouquet of hand picked flowers, that Liberty didn't mind in the least. There was a light flush to her cheeks.
Elle smiled walking up to the two of them.
"Is your guest staying for breakfast?"
She didn't wait for him to answer in true Mama K fashion.
"I'll fix you a plate. And I'll put these in water. Nico please get a chair for Libby's guest."
"Thank you."
Chapter 5: Moonlight Rendevous The Series: The Blue Honey Cafe The Book: TRR Pairings: TRR MC is single Status: Still in the writing process
He sat down on the blanket with Riley placing the popcorn between the two of them.
“I’m glad you could come over here for a bit Mason, to sit here with me.”
“Me too.”
Mason tried not to read too much into it, but as the movie went on Riley seemed to inch closer to him. She was so close to him that he could smell the perfume of her body and the scent of her shampoo in her hair.
After the movie, Mason helped Riley pick up her things and fold her blanket.
“I had a great time with you Riley.”
“Me too Mason. I loved the movie. They definitely left it open for a sequel. What did you think of the movie?”
“She did a lot of terrible stuff. But I don’t know why, I still want her to be happy.”
“Because she’s not all bad. She felt guilt and remorse.”
“Exactly……. Well this is awkward.”
“What’s wrong?”
“The food truck, my ride is gone, therefore I have no way to get back to the restaurant and my vehicle.”
“I’ll take you.”
“Thanks Riley, that's nice of you.”
Mason carried all her stuff to the car for her.
“Hey I know, you’re depending on me to get back to your car, but I was wondering if you felt up for doing something else for a little bit. I mean we’re already out, and we both said we need to be more social.”
“What did you have in mind?”
“Okay hear me out.. I’ve always wanted to go to this place.”
“Wheelz?!?!?! This used to be my favorite place as a kid. I had several birthday parties here. Midnight skating slaps.”
“But you said this was your favorite place as a kid?”
“Kids can be teenagers too.”
“Are you good at skating?”
“I am great at skating, are you Riley?”
“Yes, I wouldn’t have mentioned this place if I couldn’t. I’m not trying to embarrass myself. But I wanted to have someone to go with. I don’t have a date, so would you maybe be my plus one?”
“Yes. I’d be honored to be your plus one Riley Brooks.”
#bebepac writes#six sentence sunday#always more than six#the rotten apple#the blue honey cafe#elle x nico#liam x riley forever#choices fanfiction#choices fandom#cfwc sunday six#mood music monday
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Sick (Part 1/?)
This has been sitting in my drafts for a while now, but all of one (1) person asked if there was going to be a sequel to the original, so here you go. Hope you enjoy :)
*Also, I should mention that everyone is college-aged/above 18.
Warnings: Yandere themes, Peter being a creep and a stalker, kidnapping at the end.
Summary: In a world where everyone had forgotten him, Peter Parker has to deal with the aftereffects of losing you.
Pairing: Yandere! Peter Parker x Reader.
Prologue
It was Christmas morning when you first noticed you had a stalker.
At the time, you hadn't really thought much about it. Walking out of your apartment first thing in the morning, you barely managed to avoid stepping on the neatly wrapped box that sat on your welcome mat.
You had assumed it was from a family member or friend, even when it had no name on it other than your own. When asked, though, MJ, Ned, and everyone else you were even semi-close to all seemed genuinely confused about where it came from.
Once again, you shrugged it off. It was something you had wanted for a while now, so even if it was a bit strange, you weren't about to look a gift horse in the mouth. It had clearly been addressed to you on a sparkly red and green tag, so it wasn't like you were opening someone else's gift.
But when Christmas ended, you began to notice other strange occurrences. Certain possessions of yours had gone missing, though you couldn't find any sign of a break-in. Several of your most-worn shirts had gone missing, as well as the body scrub you knew was only half-full.
None of your jewelry had gone missing, nor any of the electronics or the cash you kept stored around. Any of the obvious things someone would take from you remained. Considering nothing of actual value had been taken, it seemed ridiculous to assume someone was trying to rob you, but it was the only explanation you had. You were single, lived alone, and any friends you brought over never had the time to steal that many shirts. You swear you would've caught them at this point.
It's a month after that when you start to think you have a stalker. At first, you think you're being stupid again. It sounds stupid to even think that Spider-man of all people would be following you. He helps people, and you know this because, despite the video of him and Mysterio, he saved you.
It had been three times at this point. Once when you had gotten caught up in a fight at the Statue of Liberty; you couldn't even remember what reason you had for being up there, but you were sure it wasn't a good one. He had gotten you out of the way of a strange villain on a glider, and after that, all you remembered was waking up in your apartment the next morning.
A second when a villain had shown up right next to your work; Spider-man had been the one to show up, and had saved you from an incoming piece of debris.
The third seemed so minor compared to the rest but had solidified your opinion of him. You had been walking home late from work when a group of guys had attempted to rob you. Despite the late hour, Spiderman had been out and ready to save you. He even stuck around to walk you home, and you were surprised by how young he sounded while cracking jokes.
Which is why you were so confused now. You had seen him far too often now. You had tried to reason that he was a street hero, so it wasn't uncommon to see him swinging around the city, yet in the past four weeks, he's swung past your apartment over a dozen times and gone past your work even more. Sometimes you'll even swear you can even hear someone hanging around your fire escape late at night, despite you being on the sixteenth floor.
You had asked yourself countless times now why he would be following you of all people. You're just one civilian in a city full of people.
So why did you find yourself with a rag of chloroform over your mouth one night, only to look back and see a familiar red mask before unconsciousness took over?
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Green Day – Saviors
The 14th studio album by pop-punk legends, Green Day, called Saviors, lives up to its title as it very well may have saved the band from going down the unfortunate path that has haunted so many other legendary bands in their careers. While some bands have had trouble living up to the legacy of their past work, Green Day were getting dangerously close to this label after a bit of floundering after American Idiot. Sure, there were a few nuggets of gold to be found every now and then, but looking at the large body of work after American Idiot was a bit of a mixed bag. You had the strong 21st Century Breakdown record, followed by the hit or miss trilogy of ¡Uno! ¡Dos! ¡Tré!, then 2016’s decent Revolution Radio, only to be succeeded by arguably the weakest LP in Green Day’s discography, 2020’s Father of All Motherfuckers. The benefit of Saviors is that it knows when to hit its moments, and when to reel things back a bit. This is largely in part to the band’s trust in longtime producer/collaborator, Rob Cavallo (Dookie, American Idiot), who gets Green Day finding solid footing throughout the LP. Lead single, “The American Dream Is Killing Me” basically writes itself with that electric guitar riff out of the gate from Bille Joe Armstrong, paired with the breakneck drumming of Tre Cool, and the steady hand of bassist Mike Dirnt. Armstrong bellows on the state of the world in the second verse of, “People on the street / Unemployed and obsolete / Did you ever learn to read the ransom note? / Don’t want no huddled masses / TikTok and taxes / Under the overpass / Sleeping in broken glass,” and it’s clear that he and his bandmates are fed up with the status quo. The band doesn’t need to overplay the moment with a 10-minute rock opera, but instead chooses to deliver 15 great pop-punk songs that clock in just over 46 minutes. Green Day became their own saviors by sticking to a formula that works well for them, while still adding some new elements into the mix to keep things interesting, and simultaneously deliver their best work since American Idiot. Other early standouts like the singles found in the frenetic punk rock bliss of “Look Ma, No Brains!,” paired with the swooning mid-tempo rocker of “Bobby Sox,” showcase a band willing to still take some creative risks and liberties in their music. “One Eyed Bastard” gets pretty damn close to ripping off P!nk’s “So What” in that spiraling guitar riff in the opening, but steers clear in the chorus of, “Vendetta is a friend of mine / Revenge is sweeter than wine / I never asked to hear your god-damned feelings / Get on your knees when you are kissing my ring / Bada bing, bada bing, bada boom.” By remaining familiar, but still sounding brash in their punk delivery, Green Day continue to reinvent themselves for the better. ”Dilemma” finds Billie Joe at his most earnest, and simultaneously delivers one of his best vocal takes in the latter stages of his career here. The song would’ve fit well, creatively, on Warning, and yet it also sounds like the band had been savoring this single for just the right moment in time. Kind of a “break glass in case we start to fall off” type of moment in their trajectory. The speedy punk rock of “1981” brings Green Day back to the era of Dookie without ever sounding forced to revisit that magic time of the band, while the ballad of “Goodnight Adeline” briefly loses some of that momentum gained in the sequencing. Luckily, the song is far from a throwaway track in the band’s discography, as Billie Joe passionately paints the scene in the second verse of, “Somedays are holidays / Somedays you call your mother / Somedays you’re sober / But you’re still waking up with a hangover / I’m like a dead weight / I’m going to meet my maker / I’ll see you later / When I get my shit together, singing,” as he slightly dreads over the prospects of getting older. The pattern of Saviors tends to follow the mid-tempo tracks and ballads with certified punk rock smashes, and that continues with “Coma City.” Green Day… https://chorus.fm/reviews/green-day-saviors/
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A Dialogue of Self and Soul: Plain Jane's Progress- Sandra Gilbert and Susan Gubar
The following is my selective retyping of this essay found in the back of the Norton Critical edition of Jane Eyre.
Jane Eyre is a novel looking at the female realities around her: confinement, orphanhood, starvation, and rage even to madness. Jane becomes the emblem of a passionate, barely disguised rebelliousness. Victorian critics understood this and disliked the "anti-Christian" refusal to accept the forms, customs, and standards of society. Jane refuses to submit to her social destiny, of which Elizabeth Rigby said: it pleased God to make her an orphan, friendless, and penniless. What horrified the Victorians was Jane's anger.
The story is of enclosure and escape. Everywoman in patriarchal society must meet and overcome oppression, starvation, madness, coldness. Jane's confrontation with Bertha is an encounter with her own hunger, rebellion, and rage.
Jane is on a pilgrim's progress towards maturity, and there are problems she has to solve on the way to maturity. At Gateshead, the book opens with the remark that there was no possibility of taking a walk that day. Jane is excluded from the family, so she sits in the window behind the curtain. This is emblematic of the choice- stay behind the oppressive curtain, or go out into the cold loveless world.
John Reed comes on the scene though and it results in his fat lip and Jane's sentence to the red room.
As Jane meditates on the injustice, she is faced with the option of escape through flight or escape through starvation, which will recur in the novel. But Jane finds a third possible escape: madness, through seeing ghosts. This opens up a larger drama that we find throughout the book. Jane's anomalous, orphaned position in society, her enclosure in stultifying roles and houses, and her attempts to escape through flight, starvation, and... madness.
It is her eagerness for a new servitude that brings Jane to Thornfield, where she will confront the demon of rage that has haunted her since her afternoon in the red room. Before the appearance of Rochester, she explores Thornfield. It is the house of Jane's life. There is a long, cold gallery, where portraits of unknown ancestors hang the way the specter of Mr Reed hovered in the red room. Mrs Fairfax is assumed to be her employer when in fact she is just the housekeeper, the surrogate of an absent master, as Mrs Reed was for Mr Reed. But the third floor holds enigmatic locked rooms guarding secrets. In the attic, Jane looks out over the world and articulates her desire for liberty.
Many of Jane's problems can be traced to her status as governess at Thornfield. Governesses were, and were not, members of the family, were, and were not, servants. The women at Thornfield represent negative role-models. The most important are Adele, Blanche, and Grace Poole. While Adele isn't yet a woman, she is a little woman; cunning and doll-like. She longs for fashionable gowns rather than love or freedom, as her mother would. Where Miss Temple's was the way of the lady, and Helen's was the way of the saint, Adele and Celine's are the way of vanity fair.
Blanche is also a denizen of vanity fair, but Blanche teaches Jane that conventional marriage can be a prison, through the charade of Bridewell. But the charade also suggests that the marriage market is a game even scheming women are doomed to lose.
Finally there is Grace, who, acting as an agent for men, may be the keeper of other women, but both are prisoners in the same chains.
Jane's meeting with Rochester is a fairy-tale, but his first action is to fall on the ice. He acknowledges her power, and though they begin as master/servant in one sense, in another they are spiritual equals. In time Jane falls in love with him because she feels them equals.
After his long revelation of his past love life, Jane is shown to be his equal, and in fact he notices her unseduceable independence in a world of self-marketing Celines and Blanches.
Jane, in a moment of despair upon hearing about Blanche, asserts that though she is poor, obscure, plain, and little, she has as much soul and heart as he does.
Rochester then casts away his own disguise and professes that Jane is his equal.
The Victorians were upset because the novel here is asserting that Jane is his democratic equal.
But there were impediments. Rochester, despite some attempts to cast off the masks or disguises that give him mastery, still does need to cast it off, because the inequality exists.
Once Rochester has secured Jane's love, he almost immediately begins to treat her as an inferior. She senses this and resolves to keep him in check. His ultimate secret is of course Bertha, the literal impediment to his wedding. After the aborted ceremony, Jane learns that he had married her for status, sex, money, everything but love and equality. He regrets it, but Jane says she would have spurned such a union.
Jane's impediments are other. While she loves Rochester the man, she has doubts about Rochester the husband. She tells him that after 6 months the excitement of her love would dwindle. Jane's life pilgrimage has prepared her to be angry at Rochester's, and society's, concept of marriage. As her fears and anger about marriage intensify, she is drawn back into her own past to re-experience the sense of doubleness that had begun in the red room. The first sign of this is the recurring dream of a child. The child represents Jane's own childhood, her being orphaned. Until she reaches maturity, independence, and true equality with Rochester, she can't let go of the orphaned alter-ego so easily, despite love-making, silk dresses, jewelry and a new name. Another sign of this doubleness is Jane's reflection in the mirror on her wedding day where she says she seems the image of a stranger.
Finally, in the appearance of Bertha, the most threatening avatar, Jane sees the Bertha does what Jane wants to do: Jane secretly wants to tear the garments up, Bertha does it. Jane would like to put off the wedding day, Bertha does it. Resenting the mastery of Rochester, she wishes to be his equal in size and strength, Bertha is nearly that. Bertha, in other words, is Jane's truest and darkest double- the angry aspect of the orphan child, the ferocious secret self that Jane has been trying to repress ever since Gateshead- these two characters represent the socially acceptable, conventional personality and the free, uninhibited, and sometimes criminal self.
Jane's desire to destroy Thornfield, the symbol of Rochester's mastery and her own servitude, will be carried out by Bertha.
Some writers have noted that Bertha is the symbol of what happens to a woman who tries to be the fleshly version of the masculine élan. Just as Jane's instinct for self-preservation saves her from earlier temptations, it must save her from becoming this woman by curbing her imagination at the limits of what is bearable for a powerless woman in the England of the 1840's. While Bertha acts out Jane's secret fantasies, she at least provides her a lesson of what not to do.
But Bertha also acts like Jane in ways. She is imprisoned, running backwards and forwards, like Jane pacing backwards and forwards on the third story.... and she is also the 'bad animal' like ten-year old Jane, imprisoned in the red room. Bertha's appearance- goblin, half dream, half reality, recalls Rochester's epithets for Jane as a malicious elf, sprite, changeling.
Despite all the habits of harmony she gained in her years at Lowood, that on her arrival at Thornfield, she only appeared disciplined and subdued. She has repressed her rage and it will not be exorcised until the death of Bertha frees her from the furies that torment her and make a marriage of equality possible- and a wholeness within herself.
Her pilgrimage away from Thornfield is signaled by the rising of the moon, which accompanies other events in the novel. Her wanderings on the road are a symbolic summary of the wanderings of the poor orphan child which constitute her entire life's pilgrimage. Jane wanders far and lonely; starving, freezing, stumbling, abandoning her few possessions, her name, and even her self-respect, in search of a new home. But here she meets the Rivers- good relatives that free her from the angry memories of the wicked step-family. She has also torn off the crown of thorns that Rochester offered and rejected the unequal marriage he proposed. She has now gained the strength to discover her real place in the world. She concludes she was right when she adhered to principle and law. But her progress will not be complete until she learns that principle and law in the abstract don't always coincide with the deepest principles and laws of her own being. Her earlier sense that Miss Temple's teachings had only been superimposed on her native vitality has already suggested this to her. But her encounter with St John Rivers cements in thoroughly.
Where Rochester offers a life of pleasure, a marriage of passion, and a path of roses (with concealed thorns); St John offers a life of principle, a marriage of spirituality, and a path of thorns (with concealed roses). If she follows St John, she will replace love with labor. But Jane's repudiation of both Helen's and Miss Temple's spiritual harmonies hint that she will not accept St John's offer.
Rochester represents fire, and St John represents ice. But Jane, who has struggled all her life, like a sane version of Bertha, against the cold of a loveless world, ice will not do. St John, like Brocklehurst, is a pillar of patriarchy. Brocklehurst removed Jane form imprisonment only to immure her in a valley of starvation. Rochester tied to make her a slave of passion. St John wants to imprison her soul in the ultimate cell- the iron shroud of principle.
This attempt to imprison was certainly difficult to resist, especially on the heels of Jane congratulating herself on her adherence to principle. But her escape is facilitated by two events: she finds her true family, and comes into her inheritance. Now she is literally an independent woman. But her freedom is also signaled by the death of Bertha. The plot device of hearing each other's voices is the sign that the relationship for which both lovers had longed is finally possible.
Ferndean is stripped and asocial, buried deep in the woods out of the way. This suggests isolation of the lovers in a world where egalitarian marriages are rare, if not impossible. Perhaps Bronte was unable to envision a viable solution to patriarchal oppression, and the only thing to do was isolate oneself from it as much as possible.
While I don't know if this analysis is on point or not, I the points I've rewritten here interesting. Clearly a lot of thought has gone into the analysis, and it was interesting to read symbols and connections that I'd never thought of. It's the reason I bought the Norton critical edition- because I was hoping to read what other people had thought about the novel. I thought it was interesting
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Find the Best Luxury Travel Advice at PeakLife
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1. Peter and partner go to see a movie for date night. Things a little handsy in the dark. 2. Peter has the ability to get almost anywhere in NYC. That leaves some unique places for sex to occur. Peter/partner have a check list of all the famous nyc landmarks to fuck on top of. Bonus points if its the statue of liberty lmao. 3. Possessive!Peter "teaches you a lesson" after watching u flirt for another dude for the sole purpose of making him jealous. hope one of these could inspire something!
Oh my gosh, I fell asleep - I’m sorry!! I choose all 3 for this lil sexy moment with Pete lol I apologize if it isn’t the best - I just really wanted to finish it before I left for work <3
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Summary: Peter has been slacking lately. Everything has just been so busy with Spiderman lately that he’s been missing things, or forgetting all together. One night when you decide to flirt with another person while on a date to make him jealous, Peter gets possessive and decides to teach you a lesson.
Warnings: smut central under the cut ;) and I didn’t proof read lol that’s the greatest warning of them all.
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Things have been tense lately between you and Peter. He had become almost unattainable because Spiderman had started to take up so much of his time.
No one talks about how strained your relationship can become when you’re boyfriend is an actual superhero. It’s a lot of long nights, missed calls and opportunities in the name of justice and crime-fighting. And you know he loves you, but jeez this has been going on for an entire month.
And your relationship was only four months old - so, that’s really not the best track record.
Peter surprisingly took you to see a movie in the park, hoping to figure out what had gotten into you lately. He noticed you were agitated and short when you would speak, which is out of character for you - you guys normally had riveting conversations that ended in laughter and merriment. But, something had changed. Things had started to get stale between the two of you, so Peter decided to take you on a date.
So, there the two of you sat - an old movie plays on the projector in front of you as you sat in a crowd of people on picnic blankets. Couples cuddled, kissed - hell, someone even got engaged. But you and Pete sat six inches apart from each other while he plays with his thumbs and you stare at the movie screen, not really wanting to even look at him.
You were an hour into the movie when Peter asked you, “what’s wrong, my love?” You let out an aggravated sigh. “Nothing, Peter.”
Peter.
He panicked, you never call him Peter. It’s always either, baby, babe, Pete - hell, even Petey is better than just Peter. Something was definitely wrong.
You shake your head, groaning as you stand, “I’m going to go to the bathroom, I’ll be back.”
A few minutes had passed since you had left for the restroom when Peter spotted you from afar, some guy was talking to you. And you were laughing so loudly. Peter swallows, trying to breathe as he told himself that you probably knew the guy or something.
And then he sees the guy give you his phone, and you take it, quickly typing something and giving it back to him. You nod your head and laugh again, the guy laughs too - hard.
Peter feels anger rise up in him knowing you were flirting with another person right in front of him.
“That’s it,” he stands, stalking over to where you stood. He’s seamless as his large hand wraps around your arm, pulling you away from the conversation as he walks you away from the park, “We’re leaving. Now.”
“What?” You say breathlessly as Peter drags you away. “Why?”
“Because you’re fucking unfaithful,” he grits his teeth, you had never seen Peter like this. But you’re angry, too. You remember how terrible this past month has been and you hiss out, “Well, it’s hard to be faithful to someone that doesn’t show up anymore.”
Peter walks you into a dark alleyway and pushes you against the wall, his brown eyes angry and confused at your words. “Excuse me?”
“Oh what, Peter? Are you upset that I’m fucking lonely?” You ask, sarcastic as you shove him away from you. “You haven’t been around for an entire month and you think taking me to a fucking movie is going to help? That it will magically make me want to stay with you?”
He furrows his brows as he digests your words. He’s upset - no angry. Different emotions wash over his handsome face as he pushed you back against the brick wall of the alleyway. “Is that what you think of me? That’s so fucking selfish of you. I’m trying to stop crime in our community and you’re upset that I’m busy?”
“Fucking yes, Peter. I’m mad as hell,” you’re angry, gritting your teeth with every word. “And-.”
“And you are upset that I haven’t been around for the past month?” He asks even though he knows your answer. “There is a very very bad man out there that I’m trying to track down right now. He kills without remorse. He - he threatened to kill you. So I have to find him, I have to. And now, after this entire month of trying to protect you - you go and flirt with the first tall brute you can find to piss me off? What the fuck is that about?”
“Oh fuck you, Peter,” you hiss. “I’m sorry I’ve never dated a crime fighting hero before and I’m needy! I flirted with that dude because I wanted you to finally pay attention to me!”
“Fuck me?! Fuck you!” He yells, punching the wall beside you. “Whatever! Go flirt with that guy again, I’m sure he’ll be glad to have you!”
“Yeah - just fuck me, Peter! You’re such an asshole. Fuck you!” You yell, walking away from him. You can hear a web shoot and feel it extended around your wrist as Peter pulls you back into his arms. His brown eyes look into yours and he flashes you a smirk, “Don’t threaten me with a good time.”
Before you can react Peter has thrown the two of you onto the roof of the building he had just had you pinned against. “How about instead of fighting I just fuck you senseless? Would that get you to shut the fuck up already? You’re so needy for me I bet that is just what you want. Do you want that? You want me to fuck you?”
You nod, not realizing you had Peter’s shirt in your tightened grip. He smirks, “That’s all you had to say, my needy baby.” Peter wraps his arms around you before he swings you through the city - dropping as he neared the Statue of Liberty.
“Peter, are we allowed to be up here?” You ask, clinging to him as you scanned the city. Gosh, you were high up. Peter walks himself into you, rubbing his erection into your ass to show what you’ve done to him.
“Now be a good girl and take your pants off so I can fuck you,” he whispers in your ear, his hand cupping your breast as you let out a gasp. You take your pants off, the wind hitting your most private parts as Peters hand finds it’s way to the curve of your hip, pulling you into his pelvis. He digs his nose into your neck.
Peter unzips his pants, pulling his warm cock from hiding and sliding it between your asscheeks. “You’re too short, I need to pick you up,” he grunts, picking you up with ease as he slides his precum soaked erection between your legs. You both let out soft moans as he rocks back and forth, gathering both of your juices for between lubrication.
“Are you going to flirt with other people again?” He asks as he slides into you, “Hm?”
You can’t speak as he slides further in, your wall squirming around his cock as he starts to fuck you. “You won’t flirt with anyone because you know that no one else can fuck you like this - yeah? No one else can fuck you whenever they want like I can. No one. You’re mine.”
You moan, feeling yourself beginning to unravel under his touch. “I’m going to cum, Pete.” “Then fucking cum, baby,” he growls as his hot cum shoots inside of you. “Cum for me.”
—
Tag List: @rose-writes-shit @xuxialling @itwasallinmyhead1 @mypalbuck @angelcritterz @levylovegood @gwenebear @saltedcoffeescotch @thelittlebirdwriter @mbjackie @kiwi5335 @nikkitc0703 @laurathefahrradsattel @lizabethmenke @cheeseman @blooming-violets @andrewgarfieldsloml @s0upisgood
#mrshipsmcgee#andrew garfield!peter parker x reader#andrew garfield!spiderman x reader#tasm!peter parker x reader#andrew garfield#andrew garfield fanfiction#peter parker andrew garfield#andrew garfield x reader#mcu fanfiction#andrew garfield peter parker#andrew garfield smut#spiderman smut#tasm peter parker smut#peter parker smut#tasm smut
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Spiderman: No Way Home
>Spoilers!<
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
A place like home.
Pairing: Peter Parker x Male Reader
Summary: Peter reenconters with someone he loved profoundly, celebrating Christmas with hugs and words.
[NOTE: This is my first time writting fanfiction and posting about it. Who knows if i will turn this into something bigger, but i just enjoy living the fantasies in which i know i will never achieve...ik im sad]
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
After the incident in the new modernized Statue of Liberty, Peter lost everyone he loved. A sacrifice had to be made to save the multiverse from collapsing into chaos. Everyone he cherished, forgot about him.
But there was someone very important in his life who did remember him.
He contemplated about the good times he had with this friend, well they were dating but for Peter it felt like they weren't anymore. His name kept ringing in his mind and he just couldn't shut those thoughts away. He missed him dearly.
Knock knock
The sound of knocking on wood, although usual, it felt different. It felt diferent for Peter. But by the sound of it, it just might be the landlord.
-What is it!? I said i would pay you tom-
For a moment, he thought he was dreaming. Another ilusion of some kind, and he was skeptic of it, with his mind overly saturated with paranoia and regret. It couldn't be possible... and above all so coincidental. Y/N was standing in front of Peter, worried and desperate.
-Hello Peter!
Peter only stood there, reminiscing over their most memorable episodes and their break up before the first battle with Thanos (2018). He knows what happen between them was quite intense and over all fixated on their own worries but even then he never doubted or disrespected his ex.
Y/N smirks before entering the apartment. After closing the door, the H/C boy demands gently for Peter to sit.
Peter was a little weirded out but sat down, and so did his ex.
-You have changed Peter, what happen?
Peter felt Y/N's hand caressing his face, and this was certainly becoming overwhelming for him but he didn't refuse the touch. He let himself succumb to the other boy's warmth, letting his eyes look down and sob. Those same tears, held so much suffering, suffering that Y/N wouldn't bare to look at.
-Oh peter, come here.
Y/N quickly engulfed his ex in his arms sharing his warmth with the spider boy. Peter knew that this level of affection might be uncanny or bizarre, considering what has happen in the past, but it felt good receiving this embrace from someone that he knew would always love him.
-You might be wondering why do i still remember you...To make long story short, before that last spell, I protected myself with my own incantation that Wong teached me. So i would never forget you. At that time i was at the Sanctum.
Peter was relieved and grateful for this.
-I just couldn't bare to see you living alone, with no one to remember. I know that we might not even be in the best terms, but i look up to you. I admire you Parker. Quite a lot.
Y/N felt Peter hugging him once again, relishing in that warming presence of his ex-lover.
-I'm happy you are here. I missed you.
Peter held Y/N's cheeks and they stayed like that for awhile. Peter just came from this mess, and Y/N had lost connection with former Avengers and other familiar faces. Plus the feelings for Peter were always there to tickled him in the worst times.
After they calmed down from sobbing uncontrollably, the boys were laying down in the bed, next to eachother with Y/N embracing Peter from behind. They missed this, and even if Peter had strong feelings for MJ, this intense warmth of Y/N was fundamental for him.
Y/N then looked at Peter and his glazy eyes.
-If i could, i would turn things back to how they were. And if i had the chance i would have killed that Mysterio guy from revealing something so important to you. I'm so sorry.
Peter smirks, understanding this frustration.
After rubbing circles on Peter's scalp, the spiderling engulfed his ex in a tight hug, thanking him for everything.
-Even if we don't become a thing, i want you by my side. I think loosing you again would be a big mistake.
Y/N tears up a little and nods.
-Don't worry, i will. Whenever you are with me, you will feel at home.
Suddenly, as the snow fell in the window, Y/N remembered something. Peter sensed this slight anxiety and got worried. Moments after, Y/N conjures up a small gift from his hands that he had prepared for Peter.
Peter was suprised and excited, feeling slightly better then before.
-This is for you, might not be much, but i saw it and reminded me of you...Happy Christmas, Pete.
Y/N sat behind the spider boy, gently putting his hands on Peter's hips, waiting for his response.
Peter was in awe, it was a snow globe that had a spiderman inside, fully decorated with Christmas ornaments. It was small but profound present. This was a moment of choice. Peter finally looks at Y/N, and quickly kisses him in the forehead.
Making both boys blush tremendously, appreciating eachother's presence. Y/N, lays his head on Peter's shoulder,making both boys appreciate their Christmas together.
With a bright new future and a new life to begin with.
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Out of the Woods P.5 | Peter Parker
Part 5 | Right Where You Left Me
P.1 | P.2 | P.3 | P.4 | P.5 | P.6 | P.7 | P.8
Pairing: TASM!Peter Parker x Stark!Reader
Genre: Angst
Words: ~6k
Summary: Life moved on after you mysteriously found yourself at the Statue of Liberty, yet you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was missing; more so that you were missing someone.
Note: Okay okay okay, so maybe we didn't get to meet the second character this chapter, I thought it best to cut the chapters in half as to not have it be so bogged down. But Bucky!
“I can see the end just as it begins, my one condition is…”
The music loudly played in your ears. It was quiet in your apartment, unbearably so. The silence made your skin crawl, making you very aware of just how alone you were. And every time you closed your eyes, you were haunted by brown eyes that would’ve loved you for a lifetime.
So to cope you blasted music at every second, doing anything and everything to stay distracted so you don’t have to be alone with your thoughts. Your thoughts and the never ending silence. And you couldn’t remember it always being this way. You’d just woken up, right around the time you found yourself at the Statue of Liberty, and couldn’t stand to be alone.
That was the frustrating thing though, you didn’t just want company. Because you’d surround yourself with people, mindlessly chattering to your heart's content, but that never fixed it. It was like there was a hole in your chest and no matter what you did, it wouldn’t be filled.
You sat on your wooden floor, right by the large window in your bedroom. It had the best lighting in the apartment. And it was the only place you could think clearly enough to write. A journal rested on your lap, a ball point pen in the center. Dozens upon dozens of papers were scattered in front of you, each one less comprehensible than the last. The edges were unevenly torn from when you had aggressively ripped them out of the notebook. Frustration plagued every sentence, the determination to write the perfect sentence falling short. They were scribbles of all the emotions and thoughts you’ve had the past five months. That coincidentally also suddenly appeared after you woke up at the Statue of Liberty.
And if someone from the outside found your notebooks and papers, they’d think you were trying to cope after a tragic love story. A tale of two lovers who were doomed from the beginning. But you weren’t some star-crossed lover, you’d remember something like that.
“None of this makes sense,” you muttered, shutting your journal with a resounding smack. You sighed and rubbed your eyes. You were exhausted, mentally and physically. And as the current song playing ended, a feeling that you were forgetting something ate at you, only to disappear once the next song started.
You stood from your spot, the floor quietly creaking under the weight. You lazily walked across the room, tossing your journal on your desk. Cold feet padded from the bedroom and into the kitchen, desperate for another cup of coffee. And as you prepared it, you did everything in your power to not look at your couch. You used to spend hours of your free time lounging on it; mindlessly fiddling with anything you could find. But now that portion of your apartment was a ghost town. It was just another mystery to the pile of ever growing ones.
Buzz
Buzz
You paused, staring at the screen of your phone that rested atop the kitchen counter.
Happy (Grumpy)
You pressed the answer button, setting the phone to speaker.
“What’s up, old man?” you said, dropping a cinnamon stick into your mug, a quiet ding filling the room.
“Hey kid, I -- wait, who are you calling old?” he asked. You could perfectly picture his scrunched up face, phone firmly pressed to his ear. There would be a deep line across his forehead. He was too easy to bait, falling for it every single time. It was one of the few things that still felt normal to you.
“You. I’m calling you old,” you said, pouring a spoonful of vanilla syrups into the mug.
“That’s not a very nice thing to say, you know, I’m your elder. You should respect me,” he said, indignation flooded his voice.
“Pass,” you said. You turned around and opened your refrigerator, grabbing the oat milk and shutting the door behind you.
“I’m serious. What are you gonna do if I die huh? This could be our last conversation. You gonna be able to live with that huh?” Happy said. You rolled your eyes, a small smirk on your face.
“Oh sure. I’ll even go up to the stand at your funeral and tell everyone just how much you hated when people made you acknowledge your age. I’d even bring up that black hair dye you’ll use, and claim innocence when people point out you dyed your hair,” you said.
“That’s disrespectful, you little shit. Who needs DNA tests with you Starks, you’re just like your dad,” Happy grumbled, annoyance covering every word spoken.
“So did you call me just to guilt me into being nice, or did you actually need something?” you asked. You shook the carton of milk and then poured it into your cup. He began to mutter under his breath and then sighed.
“Actually it was you who needed me.”
“Oh?” You raised a single brow.
“I did some digging into that picture of yours, you know, the polaroid one with the boy with the brown hair--”
“Yeah yeah yeah, I know which picture you're talking about. It’s the only one you're looking into,” you interrupted him.
“Hey, just making sure we’re on the same page. I don’t know how many strangers’ pictures you have,” Happy said, any of the previous aggravation cleaned from his tone.
“Just the one. But continue,” you said, pouring the hot coffee over everything else in the cup.
“Right anyways. I didn’t find anything. There’s no system in this world that has a person matching the photo. I even triple checked every Peter P. with brown hair, I even checked blondes just in case he bleached it - but nada,” Happy said.
You continued to stare at the wall as you brought your mug up to your lips. A heavy sigh blew from your mouth, a bit of condensation hitting yours face, then you took a quick sip and set it down.
“It was worth a shot I guess. Thanks for looking into it, Happy,” you said.
“Anytime kid. Hey, you still coming to dinner this Sunday? Pep says that Morgan wants to show you her latest project,” he said.
A small smile appeared on your face as you gently set your glass down.
“Yeah I’ll be there. Talk to you later, Happy.”
“Bye kid.”
And then it was quiet again.
And a hopeless feeling washed over you.
You abandoned your coffee and walked back into your room. Heading straight to your bed, you got down on all fours and reached under your bed. The cool metal of the box touched your hand and you pulled it into the light. Reverently, you clicked it open and took off the top. Carefully, you pulled out two polaroid pictures. The first was of a man, with messy brown hair and brown eyes that were wide in shock, clearly not anticipating the picture. He was attractive, a small part of you fluttering whenever you looked at the photo. The second one had you and the mystery brunette boy in it; both of you smiling brightly. And written on the back of the second picture, with messy handwriting was a short message. You didn’t understand the context, but every time you read it, you felt like you’d been hit by a bus.
“The rest of the world is black and white, but you are in screaming colors.” - Peter P.
Tears fell from your eyes, droplets of water distorting the sharpied message. You sniffled and quickly wiped them away. You set the photo back into the box and clicked it shut. Back under your bed was where it went as you stood from the ground. In the blink of an eye you vanished from the room, the music in your ears playing extra loud, as you tried to busy your mind and hands.
This was all too much.
OoO
Sleep was always elusive to you. Your mind was always working, and no matter how much you tried to shut it off, it wouldn’t. Which led to many sleepless nights, fiddling with your next big project until you finally passed out at 4am. You’d wake up and swear it wouldn’t happen again while drinking copious amounts of coffee, only to repeat that cycle the very same night. But instead of fiddling with a new invention or perfecting a sourdough bread recipe, you were staring at your ceiling.
Another dream that felt like heaven, only to turn into a nightmare when you woke. It was the same man from the polaroid pictures. It was always him. Every. Single. Night. You’d never remember the dream when you woke, every memory eluding your mind the second you were conscious. The residual feelings and emotions however would linger. You wanted to scream and cry, the urge to toss a chair out the window growing with every second.
It was muddling and confusing and infuriating. You were painted every shade of blue; mourning something you don’t even remember losing. And you couldn’t tell if you prefer that or spending every waking moment thinking of your dad and Nat. Their deaths were painful, more so than this empty feeling you had, but at least you knew why you were upset. You understood where every single emotion was coming from.
This though, you didn’t understand any of this.
It was like trying to finish a puzzle when you’d long since lost the final piece. You’d find different ones collected from other puzzles and try to force them to fit in the spot. But it would never work. Everything around you was in hues of grays and you desperately wanted to see color again. And once again, you found yourself trying to remember if life was always like this. Maybe it really was this never ending blue, but you just never noticed it.
Your phone buzzed two consecutive times, blue light faintly illuminating a corner of your room. You rolled over, eyes squinting from the sudden light. You looked at the text, reading it once and then a second time to make sure what you read was right.
“We can talk now if you’re up. I know this 24 hour cafe by where I live.” - Bucky
You didn’t expect an answer, never mind one so soon. But you were thankful, desperate to escape this lonely silence.
The next message was the cafe’s name so you could punch it into your map app. You exhaled a breath. If anyone would understand the feeling of missing something but not knowing what, it’d be an ex brainwashed Russian assassin.
A frustrated groan dissipated the silence. Covers thrown on the ground, you got out of bed. You threw on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt. Brisk footsteps padded from one end of the apartment to the other. Car keys dangling in your hands, you slipped on shoes and grabbed a jacket.
Before you could think you were out the door. The cold air smacked against your face as you left the heated building. Normally the cold air would unravel your muddled thoughts, but not this time. Determination filled every step as you stormed through the parking garage.
Beep.
Headlights flashed in the dark. You opened the car door and slid onto the cool leather seat. You pressed the On button for the car and connected the Bluetooth, then you were off, disappearing into the night. The roads were busy, as was usual for New York, but you paid no attention. Your mind was a million miles away.
It only took thirty minutes before you reached the small, run down looking cafe. You parked your car, and locked it as you walked to the entrance. The air was freezing, biting at your skin, leaving icy stings behind. Every breath taken was visible in the short walk from the side walk to the door.
Ding.
The small bell attached to the front entrance rang as you entered the building. It was almost entirely empty, except for an older woman who was working behind the counter. She was wiping the counter down, paying no attention to your entrance. A radio played jazz music, too quiet for you to discern the exact song. It smelled like black coffee and burnt toast mixed with sickly-sweet floral air freshener.
Eyes scanned the room, pausing on the large man sitting at a table in the farthest corner. He was wearing a black leather jacket, a dark t-shirt and jeans. One hand wore a black glove, the other hand wrapped around a dingy white ceramic mug that had faint black spider web marks. His face was blank as he stared into his drink. Previously long and unruly hair was cut short with slight stubble on his face.
Your sneakers squeaked against the floor as you crossed the room. His gaze didn’t move from the drink. It wasn’t until you were pulling out the chair in front of him that he acknowledged your presence.
“Hey,” he said. His tone was awkward, he tightened his grip around his mug just a tiny bit. He looked at your face, but wouldn’t look directly into your eyes.
“Hi,” you said and simply stared at him. Both of you waited for the other to speak.
“You want some coffee?” he asked, shoving a second cup of black coffee towards you. Steam rose from the mug and onto your face as you breathed it in. You extended your arms to the end of the table, grabbing exactly two packets of sugar. You dumped them in the cup, taking a spoon and stirring it exactly three times.
Ding.
Ding.
Ding.
You tapped the excess liquid off the spoon then set it down. The bitter burnt coffee was sour on your taste buds the moment it passed your lips. But you drank it anyway, needing a momentary distraction.
“So, what did you want to talk about?” Bucky asked. You looked at him and his eyes finally met yours. “I didn’t even know you had my contact information.”
“I didn’t,” you said. He raised a single brow. “But Sam did.”
He nodded, a quiet ‘Ah’ leaving his mouth.
“Figures,” he muttered, scratching the back of his head.
“You cut your hair, it looks nice,” you said. The corner of his mouth lifted into a small smirk, muted amusement in his blue eyes. “The whole homeless man thing wasn’t really the vibe.”
“I appreciate the grooming tips, but I don't think that’s why you wanted to talk,” he said. You cleared your throat and took a deep breath. You set down the cup and folded your arms across the table. “What do you need?”
No point in prolonging it anymore.
“After you escaped Hydra, before you remembered everything, what was that like?”
He sputtered, some of the coffee he was drinking falling back into his cup. His eyes were wide, lips downturned, not expecting the question.
“What?” he asked.
“What was it like? Trying to remember everything,” you asked again. You leaned forward, face set in a serious expression. He searched for a hint of a joke, but there was none there. Your eyes were steel, determination outlining your face.
“I uh -- I don’t know. Can you be more specific?” he asked, using a napkin to wipe his face and the spilled coffee on the table.
“How did it feel when you still had those gaps in your memories? Because you’d known there were memories there you just couldn’t…remember them,” you said, hoping the clarification would be enough. He nodded, chewing his bottom lip as he mulled over your question.
A few moments of silence passed.
You simply watched Bucky, anxiously awaiting his answer. Finally, your anticipation came to an end as he opened his mouth.
“It was like… when you have a dream, right. You wake up, and you know something happened, but you can’t remember what it was. And no matter how hard you try, it’s just…blank.”
You nodded, attention locked onto the tiled flooring you could see out of the corner of your eyes. The anxiety in your chest returned, hands mildly shaking. And you weren’t sure why. You swallowed, thickly, mouth suddenly dry.
He put into words everything you’d been feeling.
“Why?” he asked. Your attention snapped back to his face, brows raised. “Why do you ask?”
“I just--” you looked around the room, unsure of what to say. He’d understand, better than anyone, what you were feeling. Plus you owed him an honest explanation for dragging him out of his apartment at 3am. It might feel nice to get it off your chest, to verbalize just how you’ve felt this past year.
“You know last year, how the Statue of Liberty was destroyed and they’ve been doing construction on it?” you asked. He nodded his head.
“Yeah, it was all over the news. They still never found out what happened. Why?”
“Well I was there the day it was destroyed. Except I don't remember what happened. It was like, I blinked and then suddenly, I was on the ground at the statue,” you said.
“Like you were sleeping?” he asked. You shook your head, fingers tapping on the side of your glass.
“No, it was like I’d been in a daydream and finally came to with no recollection of even leaving my house the night before.” He nodded, motioning for you to continue.
“I don’t remember how I got there or why I was even there. And ever since then I’ve felt like I’m missing something. And when I got home, I found these on my counter,” you said. You reached into your pocket, and pulled out the two polaroids. You set them on the table and slid them to Bucky.
His attention was zeroed in on you, gaze flickering to the photos. He picked them up, carefully inspecting every corner of each of them. He flipped them over, scanning over the message that was written on the back.
“And you’ve never met this guy?” he asked. You shook your head and shrugged.
“Not that I can remember. But get this. I had Happy do some digging for me. And he couldn’t find any trace of this guy existing. He’s not in any systems anywhere,” you said.
Bucky raised a brow and set the photos down.
“Maybe he’s an agent?” he proposed.
“No, there’d be some trace of him. Even if it was from years ago, there’d have been something,” you said, tone confident. “He went deep in the search.”
“Hmm.”
“Plus,” you reached your hand across the table, pointing at the bottom of one of the pictures. “The pictures were taken the night before all the weird stuff happened.”
“So you think he’s involved?” Bucky asked.
“Yeah I do.”
“And that he either wiped your memory or had a part in your memory being wiped?” he asked.
“Also yes,” you said, firmly nodding once.
Bucky sighed, slouching into his seat. “There’s always something,” he muttered, rubbing his hand across his face. He was exhausted, you could see it in his eyes that were outlined with heavy bags. A pang of guilt hit your gut, you shouldn’t have pulled him into this mess. And you wanted to laugh, tell him it was all a big joke and leave. But it was too late to take it back now. There was a sharpness in his gaze, deep creases on his forehead from concentrating too hard. He wouldn’t let it go even if you tried to force it.
“Either that or I just really really need to start paying more attention to my surroundings.”
He smirked, hiding his face in his mug. He took a sip, then set it on the table.
“Have you tried going back to the Statue of Liberty?” he asked. You sighed and shut your eyes. Embarrassment hit you like a train. As per usual, you over complicated everything, when the solution could’ve been so simple. “I’ll take that as a no,” he said, subtle mirth slipping into his words.
“No, I didn’t even think of that,” you said. He nodded, a small smile appearing on his worn face.
“Anytime,” he said.
You gave him one last smile, delicately placing the pictures back in your pocket. You reached into your pocket and pulled out your wallet, setting some money on the table. Then you left.
Tomorrow, you decided, tomorrow you’ll go back to where this all started.
OoO
Stepping out of your apartment at 10am, you were invigorated. You finally felt like you might get somewhere with this whole mystery. The past year had been nothing but dead ends, it would be nice for some success. It was chilly, but not unbearably so, your jacket and jeans warm enough to stave it off.
With your car keys in hand, phone in the other, you turned around to lock your door.
“Took you long enough.”
The voice was sudden, breaking you from the trance you were in. You jumped, whipping around, instinctively falling into a defensive stance. It quickly relaxed however, when you saw the source of the voice.
Bucky stood at your front door, leaned casually against the wall directly across from your front door. He wore similar attire to last night, fewer bags around his eyes however, and with a black cap on his head. He smirked, eyes flickering down the empty hall before returning his gaze to you.
“Did you follow me home?” you asked, eyes narrowing, a suspicious glint reflecting in your eyes.
“No,” he said, offense lingering in his voice.
You raised a single eyebrow at him, placing a hand on your hip.
“Then how did you find my apartment,” you asked. He nonchalantly shrugged, turning his gaze away from you, suddenly interested in the paint on the wall.
“I looked it up on the Google,” he said, trying to feign innocence, but failed miserably.
“My address isn’t on Google.” Your voice was deadpan.
“Then I got it from Sam,” You raised your eyebrows, creases forming on your forehead. A mixture between a scoff and a laugh passed your lips.
“Sam doesn’t know where I live either,” you said, mindlessly fiddling with your keys, the quiet jangle echoing in the empty hall. It was amusing to watch him struggle to come up with a simple lie. This man is a trained assassin, he should at least be able to come up with a quick lie on the spot.
“Then he asked someone who does,” he said. He looked back at you and sighed. “Look, that's not the point. I’m here, don’t ask how.” He straightened his posture, pushing off the wall he was leaning against.
“Well can I ask why? Should I be concerned?” you asked, hands falling to your sides, shifting most of your weight to your left foot. The tips of your right toes delicately tapped on the hard, glossy flooring.
“I’m coming with you,” he said.
Your brows went higher, nearly touching your hairline, and motioned with a hand for him to continue.
“To the Statue of Liberty.”
“Why?” you asked, your brows relaxed and eyes narrowed.
“Because, something is clearly going on, and I want to help solve it,” he said.
“Why,” you repeated.
“To be a good person,” he said, shrugging his shoulders.
You scoffed and crossed your arms.
“Or you just want to get out of your court mandated therapy,” you said.
“How did you--”
“Oh so you get to follow me home, but I don’t get to know about your therapy?” you asked.
“I didn’t--”
“Yeah yeah yeah, you Googled it, I know,” you said, rolling your eyes, interrupting whatever he was about to say in defense of himself. “Does your therapist know?”
He sighed and looked around the hall. It was still empty.
“Already did my session for the day,” he muttered.
“Good, I don’t want my Memory Tour to be ruined by police coming to arrest you,” you said. You swung your keys upward, catching them in a fist and began to walk down the hall to the elevator. The sound of every step was magnified by the empty hall, echoing in the depths of your mind. Bucky stood there for a moment, before running to catch up with you.
“So I can come?” he asked.
“Well, you didn’t give me much of a choice,” you replied, a slight grin on the corner of your lips.
“Sorry about that,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck, an awkward air surrounding him. A light laugh left your mouth, the two of you reaching the elevator. You pressed the down button, a quiet ding signifying its arrival. Bucky motioned for you to enter first and then followed behind. You pressed the lobby button, the doors closing, and the elevator descended.
“It’s fine. The company might be nice,” you told him and shrugged. He nodded, faint laughter leaving his mouth.
The silence filled the elevator.
Ding.
It reached the lobby. The two of you stepped out, a small group of people entering afterward. Quickly, you exited the lobby into the attached parking garage. You found your car and then you were off.
Music softly played in the background, but the car ride was mostly silent. You stopped to get coffee on the way, Bucky only talking to inform you that your latte with vanilla was in fact, not real coffee. Yet those few words were all he uttered, black coffee mostly untouched in your cup holder.
“Not a fan of Taylor Swift,” you asked, taking your eyes off the road for a second as you glanced at him before promptly returning them frontwards.
“No, this is fine. I’m just curious,” he said.
“Oh, about what?” you asked, curiosity starting to eat away at your mind.
“I didn’t think you of all people would ever reach out to me,” he said, looking out the window, watching the city flash before his eyes.
You laughed, eyes bright with amusement. “And why’s that?”
“I killed your grandparents,” he muttered.
Your grin fell, eyes dimming ever so slightly. Your posture melted as your grip on the steering wheel tightened.
“That--that wasn’t you. You didn’t want to,” you muttered. Countless birthdays and Christmas’ during your childhood were spent wondering just why you didn’t have grandparents like all the other kids. You never got extra gifts, homemade treats, or any of the other stuff that came with them. You moved on, at some point accepting that sometimes life happens and there’s nothing you could do. But the pain still lingered some days, your seven year old self with tears streaming down her face.
“But I did.”
“No, you idiot, Hydra did. You were just the gun they decided to use,” you said, keeping your voice firm and steady.
“But--”
“One more word about it Barnes, and I’m kicking you out of the car. Now shut it, we’re almost to the ferry,” you interrupted. He simply nodded, taking a drink of his coffee.
“This is really bad, by the way,” he said, face contorting into a grimace as soon as the liquid touched his tongue.
“Oh and the coffee from last night was gourmet,” you said. He chuckled and you mimicked the sound.
“Yeah you’ve got me there.”
OoO
The early morning sun barely managed to peek through the heavy clouds that littered the sky. There was a cold wind in the air, the chill creating shivers all over your body. You pulled your jacket closer to your body, desperate to stave away the cold.
You stared up at the large statue, still in the final process of being rebuilt after it’d been severely damaged. How could you be there when that much damage happened, and you don’t even remember what happened? Now more than ever, the explanation of memory wiping was the only one that made sense.
Your heart was racing, anxiety tightening its grip on you with every breath taken. You needed to move forward, to at least try and see if coming to the spot would give you a flicker of an idea about what happened. But it was terrifying, fear locking you into place. This was your only lead, what would happen if it didn’t tell you anything?
Or what if it told you everything?
And somehow the thought of receiving answers was terrifying. You’d no longer be able to hide behind blind ignorance. You’d have to face the metaphorical music, and you were never good at dealing with your problems.
In; you took a breath.
One step forward.
Out; you exhaled deeply through your nose and took a second step forward.
“You ready?” Bucky asked, standing beside you, posture rigid as his hawk-like eyes darted around the surroundings. His hands were stuffed in his jacket pockets, feigning an air of nonchalance. But you knew better, he was on edge, prepared for anything and everything. It was comforting.
“As ready as I’ll ever be,” you muttered, hands also resting in your pocket. You took another breath, and then moved forward. Bucky followed behind, allowing you to lead. You weren’t thinking, just allowing your body to guide you to where it needed to be. It was almost as if you knew exactly where to go.
That was how you two ended up a little ways away from the statue, closer to the water than anything. There was a small bench that wasn’t always there, built during the restoration process. Your hands lightly traced the edge of the wood.
“So now what,” you asked, turning to face Bucky. He simply shrugged his shoulders. You sighed, shoulders slouching.
“I don’t know,” he said.
“What do you mean, ‘I don’t know’ this was your idea,” you said.
“It was a suggestion, I didn’t claim to be an expert at regaining memory,” you said.
“Then what jogged your memory?” you asked.
“Steve hit me a few times,” Bucky said, a chagrin grin on his face.
“Great,” you sighed and rolled your eyes. “Let me just find mysterious Peter and let him hit me.”
“Not what I was suggesting,” Bucky said in a monotonous voice. No humor was glinting in his eyes.
“Could’ve fooled me.”
“Look, just try closing your eyes and concentrating,” he said, pulling his hands out of his pockets, forcibly turning you to face the water.
“On what?” you asked, allowing Bucky to move you like a ragdoll.
“I don’t know, just something,” he said, annoyance mildly seeping into his voice.
“So helpful.” But you closed your eyes anyways, arms crossed like a petulant child.
“Stop being a brat,” he muttered.
“No.”
Bucky merely snorted, falling silent after.
Eyes shut, you took a deep breath through your nose, holding it for a moment, then releasing it.
You did it again; in and out you continued to breathe. Concentration solely on keeping any thoughts out of your mind. Blank, empty, blackness was all you focused on. Your eyes twitched, fingers tapping against your legs.
Nothing.
“It’s not working,” you said in a sing-song tone.
“Then keep trying until it does,” Bucky muttered.
You sighed, and repeated the process all over again. Deep breath in, then out. Then another one in, and out again. Still nothing happened. You grew frustrated, nostrils flaring as a scowl began to etch itself onto your lips.
And just when you had almost given up, a sarcastic remark on the tip of your tongue, a tingle surged through your body. Your body stiffened, anticipation building inside of you. You tried to replicate the feeling, the hone in on the sensations.
And…
“Still nothing,” you opened your eyes, a small pout resting on your lips.
“Well, I’m all out of ideas,” Bucky muttered, rubbing his hand over his face. “I thought for sure that would work.”
“Whatever, let's just go back to my place.”
The two of you left, no light banter and sarcastic quips exchanged. Not even the silent hum of the radio echoed in your car as you drove back to your apartment. You were dejected and frustrated. That was all you had, and it led to nothing. Like everything else.
OoO
As you entered your empty apartment, you slipped off your shoes, tossing the keys into the small bowl that sat near the entrance.
“You can just put your shoes there,” you muttered to Bucky, who followed behind you. Light footsteps echoed in the room, a small frown resting on your normally chipper face. This thing was draining you, the contrast questions leaving you empty.
Like clockwork, you walked into your kitchen, opening the refrigerator to get out the ingredients to throw together an iced coffee. Your body was already jittery, a slight shake in your hands from the excess caffeine. That didn’t stop the overwhelming desire to drink another cup.
Bucky stood in the center of your living room, looking around like a lost puppy, jacket in hand. He was quiet, careful to not break the silent aura you’d curated. He didn’t ask, because he knew better than anyone. Trying to remember something that’d been erased from your mind was a losing game.
“Want anything?” you asked.
“I’m good,” he said.
You shut the refrigerator door.
“You can take a seat anywhere,” you said, setting everything on the counter, and pulling out a spoon and a cup. You began mixing everything together, having the process down to a science. Within a few seconds, with a mug in hand, you were sitting on the couch - Bucky exactly three spaces away from you.
Neither of you spoke, the minutes ticking by. Your coffee was halfway gone as you fidgeted in your spot.
“Well on the bright side--” Bucky muttered. You looked away from the ground, eyes boring into him. “At least we can rule out brainwashing.”
You scoffed, looking away from him. You stared at the blank screen of your tv. Mindlessly, you stirred the metal straw in your cup.
“What makes you say that?” you asked, tone low and even.
“If it was similar to me, you would’ve gotten at least something, but there was nothing,” Bucky began to say.
“So that only leaves magical influence,” you finished. “Well Strange was there,” you mused.
“What?” Bucky said. “You never mentioned that the wizard was there.” He looked at you, eyes wide and a frown resting on his face.
“You never asked!” you exclaimed. He sighed, running a hand through his hair, glancing to his side and muttering to himself.
“I didn’t know I needed to!” Bucky said.
“Well I’m not a mind reader! Plus, it just didn’t seem important,” you said, nonchalantly shrugging, immediately taking a large sip of your coffee. Bucky narrowed his eyes, a single brow raised at you.
“Have you talked to Strange?” Bucky asked. You rolled your eyes, an exasperated sigh escaping your mouth.
“Of course I did! He didn’t know what happened either,” you said, refusing to meet his eyes.
“Jesus kid, still would’ve been nice to know,” Bucky said, leaning his head back to rest on the top of the sofa.
“Whatever.”
It fell silent again.
Your eyes moved to a photo that hung on the wall. It was all the Avengers huddled together to all fit in one photo, you in middle with a wide grin on your face. You carefully looked at each and every face. Melancholic thoughts filled your mind as you momentarily reminiscence on when everything seemed so much simpler.
Your eyes locked on Wanda, smile wide and eyes bright as Vision awkwardly stood beside her. While her start with Avengers had been rough, you immediately took a liking to her and the two of you became fast friends. Her unique magic mesmerized you, the way she could control reality on a whim, getting into people heads and--
“Mind control,” you whispered. Bucky looked over at you, brows slightly furrowed.
“What’d you say?”
“Wanda, we need to find Wanda,” you stood from the couch, walking over to your phone and car keys that were resting on the countertop.
“Why?”
“When I first met her, she’d used her magic to go into the minds of each Avenger, making them see something,” you said, turning to face him. He was nodding along, then suddenly he shot out of his seat.
“And you think she could maybe recover the lost memories!” he said.
“Exactly!” you yelled. “Come on, let's go.”
“Wait to where?” Bucky asked.
“Sokovia.”
OoO
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I have an ask? What if Liam got Riley pregnant when they first met in New York? Would he still have to go through the social season? Would she have to raise a baby on her own would Liam find a way to help?
Ooooohhhh. Interesting. That would be quite the conundrum for them, wouldn't it? Especially since the social season starts the very next day after he visited her bar. Hmmm. Let's see what I can do with that time frame. I'm going on the assumption that the social season lasts at least three months with all the parties and traveling they do. Which will help out with the pregnancy part 😉 I think she would still go and take part in the social season since she wouldn’t know she was pregnant yet, but it would definitely alter how things end in book 1.
Masterlist
@gkittylove99 @darley1101 @krsnlove @kingliam2019 @texaskitten30 @yourmajesty09 @mom2000aggie @ofpixelsandscribbles @twinkleallnight @lodberg @twinkleallnight @amandablink @neotericthemis @mm2305
Aftereffects
Three months earlier...
"Well?" Riley tilted her head to study Liam's profile. "What do you think?"
He cleared his throat. Lips parted, yet no words were formed. Liam had so many emotions hitting him all at once that a mere stranger had made his one wish come true.
His eyes went from the Statue of Liberty to the woman responsible for him being able to see it.
"I'm speechless." He lowered his head, lips curving in a shy smile. "I've never been so moved in my life than I am in this moment with you."
She smiled and turned her attention toward the iconic monument. "She's really something, isn't she?"
He turned toward Riley. His eyes traveled down her beautiful face softly lit by the dull light coming from the ferry they were on and the sliver of moonlight from above.
"Yes," he moved closer to her. "She really is."
Riley looked up at him. Her heart raced at the tender longing she saw in his eyes. He seemed so lonely. So in need of encouragement. So in need of affection.
Before he could step away, she snagged his lips in a tender kiss.
He froze for two seconds before crushing her to him. He allowed all the feelings he kept to himself pour out as a fuel to draw moans from her. The desperation he had been feeling since his brother abdicated didn't seem to exist around this woman.
His kisses traveled down her neck.
"Liam." She sighed when he returned to her mouth.
Her arms wrapped around his neck as he pressed her back against the railing.
"I don't want this night to end." He murmured.
It took a physical effort to stop.
"Neither do I." She cupped his cheek. "I know you leave tomorrow."
He nodded, already feeling the heavy yoke that was about to be thrust upon his shoulders.
"It's not quite tomorrow though." She kissed along his jaw as she whispered. "We can still enjoy the rest of tonight."
"Riley, I--you know I must choose--I couldn't do that and simply leave you to search for a bride." He felt guilty just thinking about it.
He would be the worst sort of cad possible if he were to spend the night in her arms.
He shouldn't have pursued her. The moment she had turned around and greeted him in the bar, he had thought of nothing else except getting to know more about her.
"I want you." She whispered. "If tonight is all we have, then let's make the most of it."
"You have no idea how much I want you." He kissed her once more, completely unable to resist her.
******************
Two and a half months later...
Maxwell winced when he heard the noises coming from Riley's bathroom. Bracing himself, he timidly knocked upon the door.
"You okay in there, blossom?"
"What--" she heaved into the toilet, "do you think?"
"Maxwell!" Bertrand snapped. "What is the hold up. She should have been downstairs fifteen minutes ago."
His eyes widened at the sounds of vomiting.
"Is she ill?" He whispered.
Maxwell shrugged.
"She seemed fine last night." Bertrand thought over the past few days.
"She has been more tired than usual." Maxwell narrowed his eyes in concern. "And this isn't the first time I've heard her throwing up."
Bertrand's stern demeanor turned to worry. "You don't think she's..."
"Think she's what?" Maxwell asked.
"We have been pressuring her to wear the right clothes. I hope we haven't caused her to think she needs to lose weight." Bertrand explained.
Maxwell's eyes widened. He would never be able to forgive himself if he had made Riley think less of her natural beauty.
"Riley!" He anxiously knocked again when they heard nothing but silence. "Can we come in?"
"Sure." Her weak response was followed by her unlocking the door.
The brothers walked inside and saw her sitting in the floor.
Maxwell wet a rag and crouched beside her. He gently cleaned the sweat off her brow, his worry was now off the charts at the half hearted smile she gave him.
"Thanks." She lifted her eyes to Bertrand. "I'm sorry. I know I'm supposed to be outside for the--"
"Don't concern yourself with that." He tempered his usual gruff tone. "We must take care of you first."
Tears filled her eyes at how kind he was being. He wasn't berating her or telling her that House Beaumont needed her to win Liam. She wondered where this Bertrand had been hiding. Tears began to trickle down her cheeks as the brothers discussed ways to help her feel better.
He ordered Maxwell to pick her up and carry her to her bed.
As she settled back against her pillows, he called down to the kitchen and ordered a tray of soup, crackers, and tea to be brought up.
By the time he was finished, she was crying in full force.
"Riley!" Maxwell sat down on her bed and tried to hug her. "Please tell us what's wrong."
Bertrand reached for her hand. "You do know how lovely you are, right?"
Her eyes widened at that odd question.
"We think you shouldn't change at all." Maxwell added.
"Indeed. Many of the dresses in the boutique are," Bertrand's frown firmed as he tried to think of a way to keep her from thinking her body was at fault, "they aren't properly made. One can never go by sizes there."
"And you're size is perfect. Liam can't keep his eyes off you." Maxwell added. "In fact, you could probably add on some weight and be even more beautiful."
"Indeed." Bertrand latched on to that. "Size does not matter. It is what is on the inside that counts."
Riley lifted her head. "What are you talking about?"
"You're," Maxwell mimed vomiting.
"You must stop." Bertrand added. "You do not need to lose weight."
"I'm not doing it on purpose." She shook her head.
It touched her heart though that they wouldn't want her developing an eating disorder.
"I don't know what's caused this." She explained. "The weirdest smells and motions seem to set it off. Like yesterday, the smell of tomatoes had me running for a bathroom and I've always loved tomatoes."
"Could it possibly be your nerves?" Bertrand sat down at the foot of the bed. "The social season can take a toll on even the most seasoned noble."
"I don't think so." Riley mumbled. "It's like my energy has suddenly been depleted. Of course that could be because of the vomiting."
"So what caused it to start?" Maxwell asked.
"How long has it been going on?" Bertrand added.
"I don't know what set it off. It's been going on for a couple of weeks, but it is getting worse."
"Hmm." Bertrand and Maxwell shared a glance.
"Riley, I hope you don't think badly of me for asking," Bertrand struggled to inquire into something so personal. "But, have you, er...did you..."
She lifted her eyebrows in silent question.
"Before you joined us, were you involved with anyone?" He closed his eyes in embarrassment.
"Involved?"
"Any previous boyfriends or hookups before Liam?" Maxwell clarified.
"Oh!" Her cheeks heated with color. "No. I actually haven't been in a relationship for almost a year now." She lowered her eyes. "I had a bad relationship with a guy and decided to focus on myself once I got out of it."
Bertrand relaxed some. "A wise decision."
"So no one night stands?" Maxwell prodded.
"I've never been that type of..." Her eyes widened. She had been that type for one incredible night.
It was the driving force in making her decision to come to Cordonia in the first place.
"Oh no." She breathed. "The night I met you," her eyes held Maxwell's shocked gaze, "Liam and I sneaked away and..."
Bertrand shot up off the bed. "Wait here."
*****************
"We must be certain." Bertrand stressed. "The bloodwork must confirm what the test showed." His frown was fierce as he stood before the physician. "Discretion is a must in this situation."
"I'll have the results by this evening." The doctor replied. "And only I will run the lab work for Ms. Brooks."
"Here's my number." Riley scribbled it out quickly. "If I don't answer, please send a text and voicemail."
Once he was gone, she sagged back on the bed.
"What do we do now?" Maxwell asked.
"We have a ball to prepare for." Bertrand held up a silk dress. "We missed today's events, but we must make an appearance tonight. Everyone will begin to talk if we don't."
Riley nodded. Her mind though was whirling with the knowledge that she was pregnant.
How will Liam react? Will he be upset? Will he hate me for allowing it to happen? Will he think I'm trying to trap him?
How do I tell him?
Taking the dress, she forced herself to get ready.
***************
"Have you seen Riley any today?"
Drake shook his head. "No. Why?"
"That's strange." Liam folded his arms.
He wondered if something was wrong. He hated that he couldn't spend every single moment with her. What if she had reached the end of her patience with this suitor situation?
He shook his head when Drake offered him a drink.
"You've got it bad." Drake teased.
"Got what?"
"Love."
"I do?"
"Are you saying you aren't in love with Brooks?" Drake smirked. "I've seen you with her. Ever since she showed up at the masquerade ball, you haven't looked at any of the other ladies trying to win you."
Liam couldn't help but smile over that. It was true. His night with Riley in New York had been the most magical of his life. Each moment he had spent with her since then all but reaffirmed that she was the only one for him.
He was thrilled at how the people of Cordonia had fallen for her. The press had only positive things to say about The American that had come to win his hand.
He could picture her smile when she approached him at the masquerade ball.
"I think we both know we have something special. One night together will never be enough for me." Riley whispered as he kissed her hand.
"I agree." He held her hand a moment longer than was deemed appropriate. "It isn't enough." His bright blue eyes shined against the silver demi mask. "Are you certain I'm worth going through these next few months? What if--"
"We end up with our happily ever after?" She finished for him.
He knew he had completely lost his heart in that moment. Our happily ever after. Her optimism that they could have that helped him through every step of this social season. She was the prize he knew he could claim once he passed the final hurdle to be king.
He spent his time in dull conversations daydreaming about their future. How beautiful she would be as a bride. How comforting she would be as they dealt with his father's illness and troubles of their small nation.
Then he dreamed of the family they would have. He hoped they had many children, each with her infectious smile and kindness.
He hoped she would say yes when he asked her to marry him. Even if they never had all these other dreams of the future, he would at least have her and her love.
Then all of this would be well worth it.
He did worry about his father's reaction to the time he spent in her company. Whenever Liam attempted to discuss his feelings about Riley, Constantine would point out another lady of the court. He wouldn't allow his son to go ahead and make a decision.
"You better head downstairs." Drake finished off his drink. "Can't have a ball around here without the prince."
****************
"Any word yet?" Bertrand whispered.
Riley shook her head.
He softly cursed, causing her to burst into laughter.
"I'm sorry." She giggled when he shushed her. "But I would have bet a lot of money that you would never say that word."
He rolled his eyes. "Be that as it may, you should go mingle."
****************
"Lady Riley?" Liam gently tapped her shoulder. "May I have this dance?"
She turned around with a start. "I'd love to."
He took her hand and placed it within the bend of his arm. "You look beautiful tonight."
She gently squeezed his arm. "Thank you." Her eyes lifted to his. "And you're as handsome as always."
"I don't know about that." He winked at her. "But as long as you think so, then I'm content."
He took her in his arms as a waltz began.
"Let's not spin as much as we normally do." She pleaded when he twirled her.
His brow furrowed. "Is something wrong?"
"No!" She said quickly. "Just, um, a little motion sickness from time to time."
"I see." He kept his gaze upon her face. "I missed you today."
"You did?"
"I always do whenever you're not around." He admitted with a sheepish grin.
"That's so--" she felt the vibration of her phone.
She stopped dancing, causing Liam to nearly trip
"Riley, is something--"
"Excuse me, I have to--that is--this is from--" she ducked out a nearby door before all her revelations came tumbling out.
***************
She plopped down on the edge of a small couch and read the message from the doctor.
Hitting the link, she read the results of her bloodwork.
Her breaths came in and out in short gasps.
I'm really pregnant.
"Riley?"
All the color drained from her face as she looked up at Liam.
He shut the door to the ballroom and knelt before her.
"What is it?" He took her icy hand in his. "Is something wrong?"
She licked her dry lips and tried to tell him.
"Yes. No. I'm not sure."
He pressed a kiss to her hand. "Whatever it is, I will do all that I can to help you."
She blinked back tears. "Can I ask you something?"
"Anything." He laced his fingers with hers.
"Do you," she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, "do you love me?"
"I do." He admitted. "I had planned on telling you during the Coronation Ball."
"Really?" Her eyes narrowed. "I need you to be completely honest with me right now."
"I am." He lowered his gaze to their clasped hands. His thumb brushed against her skin. "I know I'm not supposed to say anything until then, but you are the one I will pick to marry," he looked up at her, "if you want to."
She bit down on her bottom lip. "Do you want children?"
"Yes, and not just for the continuation of the Rhys holding the crown." His smile gentled. "I want a family with you, selfishly for myself. I want all the holiday memories spent with them, watching them see the world with wonder, and seeing our traits passed on, especially yours." He chuckled. "Heaven help me if we have a daughter like you. I will be completely wrapped around her little finger."
Riley couldn't believe she was hearing all she needed to from him.
He really is Prince Charming. My Prince Charming.
"Do you remember the night we met?" She asked.
"How could I forget?"
She grimaced at the worry that still gnawed at her mind.
"My love," Liam sat down beside her. "Please tell me what troubles you."
"I had not been with anyone in a long time." She began. "I mean, no one for months when we spent the night together."
Liam merely listened, wondering where she was going with this.
"I didn't think in the heat of the moment. I should have. It was irresponsible, but I was so swept off my feet..." She took a deep breath. "And I found out today that I'm pregnant."
His fingers tightened around hers.
"I'm sorry. I know with the--"
"Pregnant?" Liam interrupted her. "You're certain?"
"The doctor just sent me the results of my blood work. That with the test I took and the physical exam confirms it." Her eyes widened when he suddenly stood up and took her into his arms.
The kiss he gave her weakened her knees. His arms held her as if she was the most delicate piece of porcelain.
"Marry me." He said between kisses.
"That kinda was the whole point of me coming here." She teased, once she saw how happy he was.
He smiled against her lips. "Is that a yes?"
"It is."
He stepped back and took hold of her hand. With quick strides he had them back in the ballroom.
Waving the conductor to stop the music, he held his hand up. "May I have your attention please!"
The court stilled as all eyes turned toward him.
Ignoring the hushed questions coming from his father, he settled his arm around Riley's waist.
"Lady Riley has made me the happiest man this evening. She has accepted my proposal of marriage and has told me that within a few months or so," he turned his adoring gaze upon her, "we will have an heir to the throne."
Constantine staggered back at this announcement. He had no idea the couple had become that close.
Regina called for champagne to be brought to all the guests as she embraced the young couple.
Liam held his glass up. He decided to force his parent to officially accept Riley in front of the entire court. He suspected that if he had not announced the fact they were expecting, that Constantine would find a way to break their engagement. He didn't know why he felt such unease with his father when it concerned Riley, but he wasn't going to leave anything to chance when it concerned her.
"Father? Would you like to give the toast?"
Constantine cleared his throat. Seeing no way around it, he stepped forward and lifted his glass. He hoped for Liam's sake that this woman would not be detrimental to his rule.
"To my son and the lady he has chosen. May they have all the happiness that I have found with my own queen and may their new family continue to serve Cordonia with grace and honor." He turned toward them. "To Liam and Riley!"
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I think People misunderstood Chloé's arc and the season 3 finale (and especially Chloé's role in it.). And here is why I think that.
This is a really long post and I know it's hard to keep reading something as long as this but please, I ask you, either do not read it at all if you don't want to read something like this or read it completely. If you do decide to read this but stop in the middle because you want to comment on something I ask you to not do that. Please read all of it thoroughly. If you want to comment on something, take notes but don't post it before having read all, because if you do not read all you probably won't understand it correctly. Additionally, some things might have been answered later on in the post.
I think the true lesson the writers wanted to give with Chloé's arc and especially the Season 3 finale is that it's good to be forgiving and give second or maybe even 3rd chances but you shouldn't try and help someone who doesn't want to change. There was a time where she maybe wanted to change... I put the maybe there on purpose. This is because if I look at Chloé's behavior it isn't entirely clear if she ever wanted to change because she wants to help others or if she just wanted to "change" so she can have the Bee Miraculous.
Chloé's arc in actuality was a treason arc. It wasn't a redemption arc. On the surface it may have looked like one but if you look deeper I think you'll see the signs.
I know I am gonna get hate for saying the next bit but if you look closely (and I mean very closely) at Chloé's actions then you'll see what I mean. In season 1 Chloe was a stereotypical bully. In season 2 she actually got a backstory, explaining her actions. It basically made her look more like a real person. But even so her actions didn't really change. She stayed a bully. On surface level her actions did change a little, but on a lower level they didn't.
What do I mean with that? Take Despair Bear as an example she threw a party and invitated all her classmates. In itself that's a nice action but do you remember the reason why she threw the party? Adrien threatened to break up their friendship if she wasn't nicer to people. So her Butler Jean gave her the idea with the party and that she should be nice.
Yeah, I know this happened before the Queen's Battle trilogy (I know it's actually just a 2 part episode (Style Queen and Queen Wasp) but I count Malediktator as a 3rd part because it pretty much is a direct follow up to Queen Wasp.) but this is supposed to serve as an example for Chloé's behavior in season 2.
Now look at Zombizou. Chloé gave Miss Bustier a present the day after her birthday. Do you remember why this happened? Marinette called Chloé out for not having brought one and pretty much embarrassed her infront of the class (I know the way she called her out was mean but that's not the point here). In the end Chloé most likely would never have brought a gift if this didn't happen.
I think this Episode also came before the Queens Battle trilogy but I'm not sure. Anyway even if it was before, it still shows how Chloé behaves most of the time when she does good things.
Now let's look at the Queen's Battle trilogy. In the Style Queen episode we see for the first time how Audrey treats Chloé and while it does explain why Chloé does what she does it doesn't mean her actions are excusable. It makes her actions understandable to the viewers and it makes her, as already mentioned, look more like an actual human being. In that episode we do not really see any more about Chloé and her past or actions besides her finding the Box with the Bee Miraculous.
After that Queen Wasp follows. In this episode the first scene where Chloe plays a rather major role is the scene with Gabriel Agreste, Audrey Bourgeois, André Bourgeois, Tom Dupain, Sabine Cheng, Adrien Agreste, Marinette Dupain-Cheng and of course Chloé Bourgeois. In this scene we see Audrey taking Marinette's feather hat after it rolls infront of her. She inspects it and remarks that it isn't Gabriel's. She then asks if Marinette is responsible for the hat, which Marinette replies to with her having created the hat. You know the rest Gabriel admits she won a fashion contest, Audrey remarks the hat is "exceptional", and then she asks Marinette if she wants to go to New York. That is where Chloé comes in, claiming to never having been in New York. She also asked why she was taking Marinette. Audrey replies with Marinette being "exceptional". Chloé then says that she's "exceptional" too. Audrey then says the following "The only exeptionial thing about you, my dear... is your mother.". I think you know the rest André tries to step in but is interrupted by Chloé who transforms into Queen Bee infront of everyone to proof that she is exceptional.
This wasn't simply to prove her mother wrong tho. She did it to prove to everyone that she's exceptional and her behaviors later on that episode prove that exact point. Queen Bee then disappears.
The others go home and Queen Bee looks around the city to see if there's anything she can do but doesn't find anyone who needs saving. She then thinks of that plan with the train and calls Nadja Chamak to gain publicity for her heroic deeds. As already mentioned this pretty much proves my point. If she really jzst wanted to prove Audrey wrong then why call in one of Paris's star reporters?
After the call she heads towards the metro. She runs on the side of the metro and enters the driver's room. She then Calls out her venom and numbs the driver. The metro speeds up and Queen Bee turns on the metro TV saying she'll save them (this pretty much was to gain even more publicity). Queen Bee isn't able to stop the metro and Ladybug and Cat Noir come in to help stop the metro. Ladybug calls Chloé out for numbing the train driver and Nadja Chamak comes with Audrey Bourgeois on a live call. Audrey then says the following "What? Regarding my daughter's ineptitude? I think it speaks for itself, doesn't it?". Ladybug asks Chloé to give the Miraculous back but Chloé keeps it and runs away with it. Queen Bee then gets akumatized before she transforms back causing her to turn in Queen Wasp. I don't think it's important to mention what happened while she was Queen Wasp because in this case she wasn't willingly akumatized just like Antibug which also means she wasn't herself unlike Chameleon and Miracle Queen who both were willingly akumatized and both kinda knew what happened while they were akumatized.).
When she gets deakumatized Marinette later comes in and tries to help fix Chloé's and Audrey's relationship (atleast as much as it can be fixed) by pretty much insulting both of them and saying "You're also wrong about your daughter not being exceptional. In fact, Chloé is exceptionally mean. She's the worst person I've ever met. She may be more heinous, pompous and selfish than you. Compared to both of you, even a rock seems more capable of love.". Chloé and Audrey then pretty much shout at the same time "How dare you⁈". They then see they do have a lot in common. The episode then pretty much ends after 2 more short scenes (both scenes do not have anything to do with Chloé so I don't think they are important.).
Now let's look at Malediktator. The episode starts with Chloé's documentary about Queen Bee where Chloé-Bee and Chloé-Bug (I'm gonna call her that because that's Chloé with a Queen Bee costume and Chloé with a Ladybug costume) talk about how great of a superhero Queen Bee is. Then it zooms out to reveal that the documentary is watched by Chloé's classmates.
Ivan then points out that isn't Ladybug. Chloé says it is Ladybug and Miss Bustier asks why Chloé did the assignment about herself.
Chloé then says they were supposed to choose an important person in French history. Chloé-Bug talks more about Queen Bee. Alya then points out that's Chloé with a Ladybug costume. This discussion goes on for a bit until Chloé leaves.
Chloé and Audrey then storm in to André's office while a pair is getting married. They force them out and Audrey tells André to close the school while Chloé tells him to ban Marinette and her family.
Audrey then says the following "That monster hurt your little girl’s feelings.". Chloé adds "She got the whole class to gang up on me. They all have to pay.". You probably know the rest. André says he can't do that and Chloé and Audrey leave him alone in his office and say they'll leave for New York. Chloé is then in the Bourgeois suite packing (or more like telling her Butler to pack for her.) André comes in to argue with Chloé and Audrey to stay in Versailles or near Paris.
Hawk Moth akumatizes André after Audrey and Chloé leave with the helicopter.
Chloé flies over the school with her helicopter, throwing flyers showing Chloé in front of the statue of liberty and saying she'll leave for New York. The students celebrate after Chloé leaves.
Malediktator stops the helicopter and says he has the power to close the school and banish the students who were mean to her. He then commands Audrey to be devoted to him and stay in Paris. Chloé runs away/hides. Some time passes and Ladybug goes to Chloé asking her why Malediktator is mad.
Chloé doesn't want to say at first and blames Marinette, then saying André got mad all by himself but then she admits to being the cause of her fathers akumatization.
Then this happens:
Ladybug: Because of what happened in school? I'm sure Marinette probably didn't exactly mean what she said.
Chloé: Oh, it's not just her— actually, I don't even care about her— it's because I have no reason to be here: nobody likes me; I have no friends. I'm… useless.
Ladybug: (remembering what Adrien told Marinette earlier at school about Chloé) A friend once told me: nobody is useless, Chloé.
Chloé: It's easy for you to say that. You're Ladybug, a superhero. You serve a purpose.
Ladybug: Yes, I can fix up all the messes. You said it yourself in your documentary.
Chloé: (gasps) You saw it?!
Ladybug: (nods) Mm-hmm.
Chloé: Oh! I'm so embarrassed. That film's ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous. I realize that now.
Ladybug: Don't worry Chloé. You can fix your own messes, if that's what you want. You, too, can serve a purpose, but you have to want to.
Chloé: (sniffles) I do want to.
Ladybug: Chloé Bourgeois, (holds out the Miraculous box) here is the Bee Miraculous, which grants you the power to immobilize your opponent. You will use it for the greater good.
(Chloé hesitates; Ladybug nods approvingly; Chloé takes the box and opens it; a yellow ball of light flies around her and Pollen appears.)
Pollen: At your service, my Queen.
Ladybug: Once the job is complete, you will return the Miraculous to me. Can I trust you, Chloé?
Chloé: (puts the haircomb in her hair) I won't disappoint you this time, Ladybug.
Then Chloé transforms into Queen Bee.
Queen Bee and Ladybug (with the help of Cat!Cat Noir) defeat Malediktator.
Then this happens:
Ladybug: Yep, you missed Queen Bee and Ladybug saving Paris, for real this time.
Queen Bee: I understand, Ladybug. Buzz off. (transforms back into Chloé)
Chloé: (gives back her Miraculous) Being a superhero isn't only about fixing messes. (Ladybug holds up her hand in a fist; Chloé gasps and smiles)
Chloé and Ladybug: (fist-bump) Pound it!
After that Chloé and her family leave.
Then this happens:
Chloé: It's okay, Jean-Yves; I'll take care of it.
Butler Jean: Mademoiselle, are you sure?
Chloé: Yes, I need to do it myself.
Marinette: Chloé?
Chloé: (gasps) Dupain-Cheng?
After that Marinette brings Chloé to the school showing her they threw a party for her. That's pretty much how the episode ends.
I guess this is the episode (Malediktator) that convinced everyone Chloé was changing (and maybe at this point in time she truly did want to change. But I'll explain later on in the text why it did not work out.). After all it literally showed scenes where Chloé was nice without her benefitting from it. And honestly the earlier episodes did not show that Chloé was going to change. The earlier episodes gave depth to her character and kinda explained her actions but they didn't really make her look like she wanted to change. The end of the Malediktator episode tho? It did look like she wanted to change or atleast it made it seem like that. But as I implied Chloé's arc is way more complicated than you think. It can't be just written of as bad or inconsistent writing. Read more and you'll see exactly why this isn't just inconsistent/bad writing.
I don't think we saw much of Chloé in the season 2 finale besides her appearance as Queen Bee again. But honestly I do not remember much about the season 2 finale anyway.
Now let's look at season 3. (I just remembered I forgot about Animaestro. I forgot where in the season that happened but I just put it in the beginning because I feel like it would ruin the flow of the text.) In Animaestro Chloé literally teams up with Marinette to ruin Kagami's day (This was just to show that Chloé still did stuff like in season 1). Anyway, not only is it pretty clear that Chloé would love to be Queen Bee again but she also probably would do anything to be Queen Bee again. So she constantly asks for her Miraculous (seen in Startrain and other episodes) or she pretty much shows everyone how proud she is of being Queen Bee, seeking attention for that (Maledikator). In Miraculer Chloé waits to get her Miraculous but doesn't get it. Then Lila tells Chloé about a fake dance which summons Ladybug. Chloé gets really angry when the dance failed and then lashes out at Sabrina telling her she doesn't want to play with her. Chloé then breaks down after not getting the Miraculous for some time, resulting into the scene where Chloé resists getting akumatized. Instead, Sabrina is the one getting akumatized. Some time later a cataclysmed Cat Noir tries to give Chloé the Miraculous but because of his cataclysmed rips he ends up loosing the Miraculous to Mayura.
You probably know the rest. Rena Rouge makes a Chloé illusion in Ladybug's place, Ladybug gets her powers back, Chloé makes Miraculer even angrier, Ladybug (with the help of Cat Noir, Rena Rouge, Carapace) gets the Bee Miraculous back and gives it to Chloé. Chloé follows Mayura but looses her. After the fight Ladybug talks to Chloé.
This happens:
Queen Bee: Ladybug. Mayura got away from me. I'm sorry, utterly sorry.
Ladybug: That's okay, Queen Bee. We'll get her next time. (reaches hand out for the Bee Miraculous)
Queen Bee: If you'd given it to me earlier, we'd probably would've defeated Hawk Moth.
Ladybug: I'm sorry, Chloé. I should've told you this a long time ago. I might never be able to let you be Queen Bee again.
Queen Bee: What? But I did everything you asked me to.
Ladybug: I know. But this is for your own safety. It's too dangerous for you and your loved ones because Hawk Moth knows that you're Queen Bee.
Queen Bee: Buzz off. (turns back into Chloé and gives Miraculous to Ladybug)
Chloé: I understand. But I'm sure that you'll need me again, Ladybug. I know that I'll be Queen Bee again someday. I will always be Queen Bee.
Ladybug: (notices her Miraculous beeping) Thank you, Chloé. Let's go. (takes off with Rena Rouge and Carapace)
Despite saying that Chloé said she understood she can't have the Miraculous anymore she did not understand.
I know one of the arguments people have was that if Ladybug stayed longer to explain more thoroughly Chloé would have understood. But what do you want Ladybug to do? Risk her identity? She was on her last 5 minutes. Probably less considering how a couple minutes probably flew by from the moment she called out her lucky charm to the moment she called out Miraculous Ladybug. So probably 2 or 3 minutes were already gone from her timer. Additionally, she still needs atleast a minute to not risk her identity getting revealed while she takes Rena Rouge's and Carapace's Miraculous. There was no more time to spare. Despite that I don't really think Chloé would have understood even if Ladybug had more than 2 minutes to spare. Not with how self-centered she is.
Well there had been some smaller incidents with Chloé treating people badly (Animaestro fo example) but that aside those were small moments. I think the next big Chloé moment would pretty much be Heart Hunter and Miracle Queen. Heart Hunter proved that Chloé did not learn from what Ladybug said. She still waited on her rooftop with her Bee signal for Ladybug to come and give her the Miraculous. In the end of the episode we see her so angry at Ladybug for not giving her the Miraculous that she willingly worked with Hawk Moth and actively forcing her will onto Pollen.
This is what happens:
Hawk Moth: (puts up his hand and interrupts) You're right, but I did it for one reason only. So that you would finally realize that Ladybug will never give you the Bee Miraculous again. I, however, always keep my promises. (shows her the Bee Miraculous in his hand)
Chloé: This isn't real! How do you have it?
Hawk Moth: Try it and see for yourself. You're Ladybug's greatest fan. You've helped her, you've trusted her, and what has she done for you in return?
Chloé: (gets angry) Nothing! She couldn't care less about me! I'm done with her. She's irrelevant, utterly irrelevant! (reaches out to grap the Miraculous, stops) I want you to deakumatize has my parents first!
Hawk Moth: Whatever you say, my queen. (Chloé takes the comb and puts it in her hair, releasing Pollen)
Pollen: (urgently) Your majesty, wait!-
Chloé: Silence! You will speak only when spoken to. Your loss, Ladybug. Pollen, buzz on! (transforms into Queen Bee)
She then gets willingly akumatized.
In Miracle Queen we then see her actively work for Hawk Moth, even revealing all the Miraculous Holders. After she gets deakumatized she seems to still have her memory, considering how she wasn't disoriented like every other Akuma Victim. She even jumps after another Akuma.
Chloé also does and says the following "I'm not on your side anymore! How many times have I asked to fight alongside you? And how many times have you refused to give me back my Miraculous? How many, huh? Hawk Moth isn't my enemy, he's yours! And the Miracle Box is mine! (Queen Bee slams down the Miracle Box, and opening it, starts putting on all of the Miraculouses)".
This pretty much proves my point further. Chloé never let go of the Bee Miraculous, thinking it was her own and she had every right to obtain it whenever she wants. The fact that she's only concerned about getting the Miraculous even proves further that she doesn't really care about helping others. All she cares about is her self and as established before this had always been the case. Even in the Queen's Battle trilogy.
Think about it. Chloé is so deadset on keeping the Bee Miraculous that she would do anything. And if I say anything I mean anything. She literally worked with Hawk Moth to get the Miraculous. So if getting the Miraculous and all the attention that comes with it means that she has to help others she'd gladly do it. If helping others means she gets attention she'd gladly do it. We've seen it in Despair Bear and other episodes. Ladybug used to be Chloé's idol so to get her attention she pushed the mind controlled Cat Noir away. To get Adrien's attention she threw the party and was nice to the others. But the moment people didn't look she acted mean. This isn't even the only season 2 or 3 episode this happened. It is totally in character for Chloé to have reacted the way she did in the season 3 finale. Just because she turned bad again doesn't mean she's a 2 dimensional character. She still has the same backstory and all as she had before. The only difference here is that she openly worked with Hawk Moth. So why is she suddenly a horribly written character? Just because she worked with Hawk Moth?
Well let me tell you something: Just look at her relationship with her father. He never denied her anything. He always did everything she wanted. She would throw a tantrum if she doesn't get what she wants. So don't you think it's totally in character for Chloé to react the way she did when Ladybug refused to give her the Miraculous? It's the equivalent to the tantrum of a spoiled rich girl (or boy) would throw if they don't get what they want. The only difference here being that a magical terrorist pretty much took advantage of that tantrum.
As you can see the way she acted was not out of character. It was completely in character for Chloé. In fact, it was so in character that if we've taken the time to truly look at her then we all would have seen it. I gotta admit, I myself got completely deceived the first time I watched Malediktator and Miraculer. I myself thought, maybe she could change (and I still think so). The first time I watched Heart Hunter and Miracle Queen I also thought it was bad writing and I also hated that finale. I thought they did her dirty. I literally blamed the writers like all the others and stated on YouTube how bad of a Episode that was. But now? Now that I actually took the time to rewatch the Episodes (not just the finale but generally any episode) over and over again just to see all the small details people talked about that I never noticed, I noticed those details about Chloé that I didn't before.
People always claim the finale is horrible because they made Chloé out of character... but... In fact, the Season 3 finale is actually good. It may have some plot holes because the writing of the show honestly sometimes isn't the best. There's some episodes that are badly written and have loads of plot holes. But the season 3 finale? It might just be one of the better written episodes. And that only because of the fact that they sticked to how a girl like Chloé would actually react to getting told off like that. And I know for a fact that girls as spoiled as Chloé would react like that because I met a fair share of people like that. They all threw a huge tantrum when they got told off.
Don't get me wrong, I am not saying Chloé doesn't have the potential to change. Infact, she definitely has the potential to change. But not like this. Chloé needs to hit rock bottom before she can actually change. And no, getting told you can't have the Bee Miraculous anymore is not rock bottom. The first thing that needs to happen is for her father to stand up to her. And as seen in (⚠️Season 4 Spoiler warning⚠️) Queen Banana André finally did stand up to Chloé. If he keeps that up that might be good start (⚠️End of Spoiler⚠️). After Chloé doesn't get everything she wants from her father anymore there's two things that can happen: Either she becomes a complete lost cause and doesn't learn anything from it or rather she doesn't want to learn or she learns that not everything will always go her way and that she can't have everything (specifically the Bee Miraculous, as you can't buy it.). This also might cause her to become less selfish and start thinking more about the others. Even if that doesn't happen maybe Zoé (because she's Chloé's half sister) or Adrien (because he is/was Chloé's childhood best friend and would love to help her) could come in to help Chloé become less selfish. But again for that to happen Chloé first needs to learn that not everything goes how she wants it and she can't have everything. And again this won't happen if everything is handed to her like it has been all these years.
Please understand that I am not hating on Chloé. Chloé may even be one of my favorite characters for the exact reasons I mentioned here. Because even tho she's a stereotypical bully she has depth to her character. And if she'll ever truly change she'd might just become one of the more relatable characters in the show.
And I know I am none of the writers so I do not know what they thought while writing the finale and the rest of Chloé's arc but to me this seems like the most logical explanation. I do not think the writers hate Chloé. That just makes no sense. They have developed her past and backstory and stuff like that way too much for them to hate her. If they truly hated her I don't even think they would have developed her character like that. If they truly hated her they would have left her like Lila with little to no information about her past or basically anything that explains her actions.
So please, I ask you please do not harass the writers for their decisions. Just please for once try to understand their thought process. Maybe you just didn't truly understand what they meant because as I explained Chloé's arc was deceiving. On the surface it looked like a redemption arc but truly it wasn't.
I am not claiming to have fully understood what the writers where trying to say but I do think I got close to what they were trying to say. I am also very sorry if I might have not been able to explain some of the points well. While I did rewatch every episode while writing this I did not want to put in every single episode (which might have gotten my points across even better) as the post has already gotten way too long. Not many people like to read much so probably only a few will even have read this completely. But to those who did take the time to read it all, thank you for having taken the time. I'd really like to hear your opinion on my take on this topic. Because while I do think this might be somewhat close to what the writers where trying to do it most likely isn't exactly what they wanted. I'd really like to hear your opinion on my take on this topic. Because as I said while I do think this might be somewhat close to what the writers where trying to do it most likely isn't exactly what they wanted. Maybe some of you have something to debunk or maybe even strengthen my points. Both is fine as long as everyone's nice towards each other. I do not want to see some kind of war. So please be kind towards each other.
#miraculous#miraculous ladybug#miraculous tales of ladybug and chat noir#chloé bourgeois#heart hunter#miracle queen#mlb fandom#miraculous analysis#mlb#mlb analysis#chloe salt#mlb season 3#miraculous season 3#miraculous season 2#malediktator#queen wasp#style queen
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The Webs We Weave (Spiderman: No Way Home x Reader)
When you're thrown into a universe that isn't your own, you're confronted with your past in more ways than one.
Part 5: quest to return home
previous chapter
Your words hung in the air between you. The eldest Peter reached out to you, squeezing your arm. You saw the understanding in his eyes. Like every version of you, he had experienced the heartache of seeing a loved one die before them. There was a strange kind of comfort in that.
A subtle change shifted through the air. Electricity crackled around you. Your hair started to stand on end. You turned towards it, seeing the villains start to emerge below. Anxiety stirred in your chest, anticipation brewing. This would be your first fight against a real threat.
Swallowing your nerves, you shouted at the other Peter's. "They're here!"
The conversation was long forgotten. Before long you were in a battle. You couldn't believe how horribly it went. You landed in a pile of Peter's, groaning as you realised the pain killers were starting to wear off. An elbow was digging into your back and you could feel someone's chin burying itself into your shin.
"These fuckers are probably loving this." You muttered to yourself as you untangled yourself from the pile, groaning as you felt your bones crack at the movement.
"We need to coordinate our attacks."
You snorted, shaking your head in disbelief. "How? You're all called Peter?"
"Uh," the youngest Peter pointed to himself. "I'm Peter One."
He pointed to the eldest. "You're Peter Two."
He pointed to the remaining Peter. "You're Peter Three."
He then pointed at you, shrugging. "We all know who you are."
"We'll focus on one, cure them, and move onto the next one."
You raised your hand, "Maybe I should distract them? I make better bait than a Spider-"
"Never doubt that you're one of us." Peter Three was quick to interject and slapped your shoulder, "If that's what you're comfortable with, it could work."
You nodded, heart warming at Peter's comment. You knew you weren't confident enough to be on the front line, but if you could distract the other villains to help them out, that would be more than enough. "Then let's do this."
As a group, you all sprang off of the Statue of Liberty. The wind rushed past you as you shot out a web, diverting from the three Peter's and scouring the area. As the Peter's coordinated their tactics to cure Max, you jumped towards the Lizard, knocking him off of his feet. He fell harshly to the scaffolding floor. Not wasting a beat, you shot the webs at his claws, securing him in place.
He growled. You shrugged, shooting a web and holding it in your palm. "No hard feelings."
You swung away, trying to find the three Spiderman's in the dark of the night. A crackle of electricity sounded above you. A lightning strike missed you by mere inches. Sensing another one incoming, you swung out of the way just in time to avoid being fried.
"Y/N, you okay?" You strained to make out who shouted, looking up to see two Peter's fighting Max. Unable to speak, you sent them a hasty thumbs up.
One minute you're swinging, the next, you're being tossed through the air. You barely had a chance to react as you toppled through the scaffolding, crashing into the Lizard. You groaned, tiredly pulling yourself up. Old and new wounds started to make themselves known, a dull ache spreading through your body. Clenching your teeth, you forced yourself to focus on the task at hand.
When you looked up, the Lizard wasn't there. Your hands were covered in the webs.
"Oh, fuck." You snapped, springing to your feet and bolting along the scaffolding. You just caught sight of the Lizard running towards the portal Ned had conjured. "Close it!" You screamed breathlessly, sprinting to catch up with the mutant.
Ned stood there wide eyed as he moved his hand in a circular motion, to no avail. The Lizard kept getting closer, closer, until he was at the entrance.
Ned dashed backwards, MJ tugging him to safety. You shot a web at the ceiling ahead, using that to catapult you forwards. Air whooshed around you as you sped towards him. You shot towards the Lizard, hot on his tail as he stepped through the portal.
"I got it!" You yelled to the two friends, springing up in the air and aiming a kick at his head. With just a fraction of second before impact, he turned towards you, snatching your foot in mid air. "I don't got it!" He tossed you out of the portal, back into the freezing air outside.
You crashed into the scaffolding, the structure weakening under the impact. Poles started to fall upon you, clattering and falling to the water below. For a moment you laid there, looking up at the ceiling. If this reality had taught you anything, it was that you were far more inexperienced than you initially thought. Oh, and that your pain threshold was extremely high.
Hearing crashes, you managed to push the debris off of you, turning to see the Lizard chasing Ned and MJ. Hot fury coursed through you. Without thinking, you snatched up the nearest pole, darting in the direction of the Lizard. Now, he was preoccupied with Peter Three, fighting him as he tried desperately to pierce the cure into the Lizard's skin.
"I am so sick," You swung the pole forcefully, enunciating each word. "Of this shit." The Lizard froze. You didn't take that as a sign to stop, repeatedly hitting him with the metal, and using it to knock his legs from beneath him. With a thud, he collapsed to the ground. Pinning him to the ground, you saw Peter Three stab the cure into the Lizard's scales. Underneath your hands the mutant began to change. The scales were shed, slowly replaced with human skin. At the back of your mind you were hoping it would be your Peter; you knew it wouldn't be him. That didn't stop the bitter disappointment seeping into you when you saw the facial features appear.
It definitely wasn't your Peter.
Dejected, you loosened your grip on the man's shoulders, taking a step away. Peter Three removed his mask, smiling fondly at the man. You left them to have a moment alone, trying to stamp down the jealousy growing in your heart. It seemed all of the Peter's had someone in their reality here, whilst you? You had no one.
Shaking your head, you faced the battle. You would be home soon, you repeated as a mantra to yourself, scouring the surroundings to find anyone else who needed your help and ignoring the deep throb of pain in your body.
Ned and MJ were standing on the scaffolding. The air whipped around them, they looked so exposed. A glint of green in the sky behind them caught your eye. Your body reacted before your mind could process it. You flung yourself into the air, swinging as fast as you could to reach them, getting so close you could touch them when a bomb hit you in the chest.
Panicking, you tried to throw it away as hard as you could, twisting your body to shield Ned and MJ with your own. It exploded. You were thrown through the air once again, ears ringing, a sharp stinging spreading across your chest. Your face felt as though it was on fire and each deep inhale made you cough.
Yet you kept falling.
In your periphery you saw a streak of red and blue dart downwards. Looking back up at the scaffolding, you saw Ned staring down at your disappearing figure, his hands cupped around his mouth.
"Look out!" He screamed at the top of his lungs.
You turned to see the ground rushing towards you. In a rush you shot a web out just in time to alter the course of your fall. Instead of slamming into the ground, you fell with a hard splash into the water. Frantically you pulled yourself to the surface, gagging. With weak arms you managed to swim towards the shield that had once been attached to the Statue of Liberty.
Quaking, you pulled yourself up, only to collapse on the metal. The material was cooling on your burned skin.
You laid there for a few moments, trying to catch your breath. The sun was starting to come up and in the morning light, you could make out the full extent of the damage you had caused. The scaffolding had been ripped apart, the shield pulled from the Statue of Liberty. You winced, thinking of how the newspapers were going to drag Spiderman's name through the mud for it. At least it wouldn't be my problem for much longer.
The first Peter appeared in your vision. His face was stony, no resemblance of the smiling boy in the lab. No, this was the mask that fell when Aunt May died. Instantly you were alert, merely watching with a furrowed brow when he reached for something next to you.
Green Goblin's hoverboard.
"Peter, don't do this." You reached out to him weakly. He brushed you away without another thought.
It was a blur. Peter in his murderous rage went to attack Green Goblin, to avenge May and get the blood he thought he needed to cure the grief, when Peter Two appeared, blocking him from landing the final blow. His expression said it all.
You needed that expression when you were exacting revenge on the bullies of your friend. You needed that expression to stop you from falling deeper into your crater of misery. If one thing, you were glad this Peter could see the consequences of this action. He could see the regret in his elder's eyes, the weight of the sin.
Peter lowered the hoverboard, only for his elder to be stabbed in the back.
The cure was delivered in the next second. As the cure started to work on Osbourne, the weight of it laid on your chest. It was done. All of the villains had been cured. A whirlwind of emotions bulldozed you. You thought you'd be ecstatic for the moment you could finally go home, but now? Now you weren't too sure. You'd finally found three other people who understood what it was like to be in your shoes, three other people who kept the memory of your Peter alive.
Now, they were going to leave too.
Stumbling to your feet, you moved towards Peter Two, his face only an echo of pain. He smiled up at you. "Well done, the Spider."
"I didn't do much." He shot you a pointed look. You gave in, sending him a weak lift of the lips. "Thank you."
"He would be proud of you."
A well of emotion built up in your chest. You acknowledged the comment with a tearful smile, nodding your thanks. "Will," you cleared the lump in your throat. "Will you guys be okay?"
"We should be."
The eldest Peter shrugged. "I've been stabbed before, it's nothing new."
"I don't know how you're coping Y/N, you were pretty gnarly before we even got here." Peter Two commented. "Pretty badass actually."
The comment made your chest swell. The pain persisted. "I have no idea how I'll explain this to my parents."
The other Peter's laughed, thinking fondly of their past tales. "I told my Aunt I was cleaning the chimney."
The Peter from this reality watched the interaction with a soft smile. "Thank you all, so much."
"I'm going to miss you all." Peter Three beckoned you all into a group hug. You relished the feeling of having them so close. For a moment, if you closed your eyes and breathed in deep, you could convince this was your own Peter that was holding you so tightly. You pictured him leaning down, whispering in your ear.
"You did good, Y/N."
Without realising, a single tear tracked down your cheek. A small piece of guilt faded as the image of your Peter was washed away. The pain of his death would always be there, but maybe the wound was slowly turning to a scar.
The youngest Peter excused himself reluctantly from the embrace. He moved to greet his friends. Something niggled at your chest as you quickly grabbed his arm, sending him a small smile. "Thank you, Peter. You've reminded me of why I put on the mask."
His desire to save the villains, when one of them robbed him of everything he had ever known, struck a chord within you. He was what you aspired to be when you put on the suit. This was what your Peter saw in you. You knew that because you could see the reflection of that now in this Peter, a version of you.
You had just been too blinded by grief and misery to see it.
"Take care, Y/N." He said softly.
He disappeared from sight. You turned to the two other Peter's, the eldest finding support on Peter Two. A warmth blossomed in your chest. This was your family. The thought of never seeing them again made a lump form in your throat; you would be forever grateful for having met the two.
"Thank you, for showing me it's okay to make mistakes." You forced the words out of your throat. "For showing me it gets better."
Their kind faces were the last thing you saw as you feel yourself become untethered from this reality, the world spinning away. The battle, the Peter's, all faded away as you fell back into your own reality, stumbling as you came to an alley. You collapsed to the ground, the adrenaline long gone from your body, stones biting into your knees. Agony lit up all of your nerves and each movement reminded you of another wound.
None of that mattered in that moment. A deep breath told you everything you needed to know.
You were back home.
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#spiderman x reader#spiderman spoilers#spiderman x you#spiderman no way home spoilers#spiderman#spider man no way home#spider man: no way home#marvel x reader#peter parker fanfiction#peter parker x you#peter parker x reader#peter parker
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The Tie That Binds – [Three of Eight]
[B. Barnes, Soulmate AU]
Summary: HYDRA took everything from you, your life, your future, they even burned off your soulmark to make sure nobody would go looking for you. Now the man they forced you to fix reappears in your life, to make amends and to be ‘of service’.
You know that they made him do all those things, that James ‘Bucky’ Barnes is not The Winter Soldier, that he’s innocent. You don’t blame him.
But that doesn’t make seeing him again any easier.
Warnings: Panic attacks, language, talk and depiction of home invasion and abduction, canon level violence, HYDRA levels of torture, angst, fluff, slow-ish burn, friends to lovers.
Note: This is entirely un-beta’d so all mistakes are my own. Thank you for reading!
<- Prev / Next ->
You’ve just stepped out of the grocery store when you’re half-barrelled into by something big and solid. Instead of falling, like you expect, when the moment passes, you realise not only are you standing upright, but that your arms have been relieved of the two heavy paper bags you’d previously held.
It takes you second to fully process the situation, but when you do, you find yourself blinking up at the smug face of Bucky Barnes, your load now tucked easily under his arm, looking a whole lot smaller than when you’d struggled to pick them up.
“Wha– I thought you were away?!” You let yourself gasp in belated surprise, resting a hand over your heart momentarily. He wears sunglasses, which you find odd considering it wasn’t exactly bright out, but you’re still a little too taken aback by his sudden appearance to really make note of it.
“And miss our shopping trip?” He asks, voice filled with mock horror.
“You can’t shake me off that easy. I stick.” The smugness melts from his features, replaced by something softer as you shake your head at him, beginning to walk.
Almost a whole month and a half of these regular, strange meetings, and the two of you had fallen into something that felt a lot like friendship, but crucially, wasn’t quite. Usually he’d help you with your groceries, sometimes you’d corner him at a cafe and seemingly quiz him on aspects of HYDRA and your capture. It was… comfortable, and you hated to admit it, but you’d sorely missed actual human interaction.
Bucky moves to walk beside you on the footpath, and you eye him. You understand why he wears sunglasses now, at this angle you could clearly see the large purple and black bruise around the ring of his eye, and when you take a closer, less subtle look at his clothing, you realise he’d simply thrown on his heavy winter coat over top of what looked like a blue motorcycle jacket.
“You know I would have been just fine if you had somewhere else to be…” You venture, shifting your eyes away from him as you speak. Bucky glances down at you, and then at his attire.
“Just got back.” He says shortly, though you’ve come to know that was just his way sometimes.
“Most people might go take a shower… get some sleep… not go help some lady with her shopping.” You muse.
The slight smugness returns to his face and his gait and he swings his head to look down at you with a corny grin, only added to by the shades.
“Most people aren’t me.” He tells you cockily, leaning down slightly to emphasise this. He leans back again moments later, as if considering you, and you squirm a little under his gaze.
“Besides, I think you like having someone do the heavy liftin’.” It’s still part of his act, something halfway between a shadow of himself from a different time, and a romance lead perhaps.
You noticed he fell back on humour, on sarcasm or this faux personality whenever he felt like his true response wouldn’t be acceptable. Maybe most people wouldn’t notice the shifts so clearly, but you do. You did the same thing any time you had to interact with another human being.
Still, the way it makes butterflies appear in your chest sends you off kilter every time, not just because it was him, but because it had been a solid amount of time since anybody spoke to you or flirted with you like you were a halfway decent option. Especially someone who looked like Bucky.
You weren’t blind, you’d recognised his objective attractiveness long ago, somewhere in a dimly lit room, where tracing his jawline was a distraction from whatever else.
But it was different now. He wasn’t just the tragically beautiful assassin you were forced to work on, he was… Bucky.
An almost friend.
Bucky.
You scoff at his display, and at any fleeting notion that he’d even really look at you twice, and shake your head.
“I can’t say it doesn’t help on the days my hands shake too much… Lost one too many cartons of eggs to that.” You chortle at your own past predicament.
You miss the way Bucky’s smile falters, and his shoulders drop, and he forces himself to look away from you for several seconds.
“Where were you, anyway?” You ask, changing the subject as you come to a set of lights. Bucky shifts your groceries to his other arm and cocks his head at you.
“I’m pretty sure our deal was that I answer questions about what I used to do. Didn’t think my current shenanigans were on the table…?” You see an eyebrow rise above the lens of the glasses, and roll your eyes.
“Fine. I didn’t want to hear about your sidekick stuff anyway.” You turn away from him slightly only for him to step into your view again.
“Sidekick? You call me a sidekick?” Bucky sounds almost genuinely offended, and you scoff, leaving him trailing behind you when the walking light turns green and you make for the other side of the street.
“Please, you’re basically a professional sidekick.” You can’t keep the grin from your lips now as Bucky hurries to catch up with you, his brow now in a deep set frown.
“That’s unkind. That’s hurtful.” He tells you, truly, honestly pouting.
“I’ll have you know my sidekick stuff is extremely interesting.” He continues, sticking his nose up a little now. You shrug.
“Probably, but you didn’t wanna tell me about it so…” You spin to face him as you speak, stopping on your apartment buildings stoop.
Bucky still pouts as you blindly buzz yourself in, taking towards the stairs right away. Bucky follows, and you realise a little too late that he never usually came inside with you. He’d usually hand over your things at the door. Truthfully, as dismissive as you were being, you were actually rather glad he’d shown up, and you weren’t quite ready yet to part ways.
The rest of the climb to your floor is filled with Bucky huffing about how cool his job was, and you internally wondering if it was too weird to invite him inside. Your fear of the man had all but evaporated, despite the frequent dreams you’d been having, but you wonder if letting him into your home would change that.
Your apartment was your sanctuary. You had escape routes mapped just in case, you’d organised your things so that there was always some kind of makeshift weapon available to you in every room… considering these plans were made with his last break-in in mind, you’re not sure how your subconscious might react to having him physically within your space again.
You act as natural as possible, and when you do reach your door, you force yourself to steady your hand as you unlock it. Bucky had stopped even his playful whining, and you know he isn’t ignorant to the current situation.
Stepping inside, you hold your door open with your hip and casually jerk your head in the direction of your kitchen.
“That can just go on the counter.” You say, cursing the slight shake in your words. You continue ahead of him quickly, even as you hear your door close shut behind you, depositing your purse and coat on the sofa.
Bucky does as you say, and you turn in time to see him step back from the countertop, his eyes darting around the space quickly.
A different kind of anxiety rolls over you then, and you regret having not tidied up a little before inviting him inside.
“It’s a little messy…” You apologise, sweeping some dust from the nearest surface and scrunching your nose. Bucky blinks at you and frowns, opening his mouth, but you accidentally cut him off as another thought hits you.
“And I’m sorry about the cold… The window keeps breaking.” You gesture to the main window in your living space, rolling your eyes a little.
Bucky’s face morphs into a frown as he looks past you to the window in question, a plastic bag duct taped over a portion.
“Your windows broken?” He asks, concern filling his voice.
“It keeps happening. My landlord employs the cheapest handyman in the city, I swear to god…” You roll your eyes again and try to brush it off with a laugh, but Bucky’s face doesn’t change, even as he looks back to you.
“It’s the middle of winter.” He states, and then before you can reply, he straightens, his frown of displeasure shifting into one of determination.
“I’ll fix it.”
---
Bucky replays the clips on his phone one last time, making sure he properly understood the instruction, before he moves to copy it.
A short trip to the hardware store later, he’s back in your apartment, sat awkwardly on your windowpane as he finishes up replacing the lower piece of glass. He’d made sure the piece he’d bought was hardy, and unlikely to cause you future problems. He can’t imagine how cold it would have gotten in your place with a broken window, and tries not to scowl.
You linger nearby, having put your groceries away and offered him coffee, you now sit on your couch pretending that you weren’t watching him.
He doesn’t blame you for eyeing him just as nervously as you had on his first few visits with you. Seeing each other out and about was one thing, but he doesn’t underestimate the amount of trust you were showing in allowing him into your home. Hell, he doesn’t even think he’d be extending such liberties if he were you.
But he’s glad for it, if not only for selfish reasons.
It was easy for Bucky to pretend he didn’t know your status to one another. He’d ignored the little black mark long enough, ignored the urge to seek you out (before he knew you were you) so it really wasn’t that different for him. The only problem, and it wasn’t really a problem just yet, was that Bucky liked you.
He liked your jokes and your sass, he liked the way your expressions spoke louder than your words ever could, and how you didn’t even seem to realise you were making them half the time. He liked that you always seemed to have something interesting to add to a conversation, even on topics he wouldn’t have thought had much interest.
You were smart, and funny and cynical in all the same ways as him, and Bucky liked spending time with you. If he didn’t think it would make you uncomfortable, he’d hang around you a lot more.
Being friends with you was easy, in the same way that being friends with Sam was easy. He didn’t have to hold back certain information, or pretend he was something he wasn’t. You knew everything already, and for some reason, had decided you were okay with him sticking around.
“Do you think you’re going to find your soulmate?”
The question nearly makes him jump, as if you’d been looking right into his thoughts.
Bucky stops what he’s doing briefly and looks up at you. Your lips are pursed and your eyes move from his exposed wrist to his face. He coaches his face into what he might consider normal if the situation were different, and hums.
“Why wouldn’t I?” He clears his throat, and watches you shift your position on the couch, tucking your feet underneath you.
“I don’t know. It’s not really something I have to consider, so I guess I was just thinking about our situations… How it would feel.” You frown as you speak, and Bucky already knows you’re unsatisfied with how you’d answered. He stops completely and faces you, giving you his full attention.
“What do you mean?” He prompts. You think for a moment.
“I guess I just don’t know if I would.” You state, still frowning, though this time for an entirely different reason. Bucky feels something in his chest tighten.
“I don’t know. I’m not exactly the most normal person in the world… and I know your soulmate is supposed to be your perfect half, but there’s still choice involved, right? Not everyone chooses to be with their soulmate in the end…” Your eyes turn down to your lap, where you fiddle with your fingers nervously.
“I’m just not sure they’d want me.”
Bucky’s stomach drops at your confession, something an awful lot like hurt shooting through him.
He wants to hurry and reassure you that you were wrong, that you didn’t have to worry, but he stops himself.
He reminds himself that your fears were his own, only he knew for a fact the answer.
“I don’t think you should spend your time worrying about that.” He says carefully. You stop fidgeting and look up at him. He swallows thickly.
“Your soulmate will want you, regardless of if you’re the most normal person in the world or not. And if they’re worried about your past, or the way it affects you now, then they probably don’t deserve you anyway.”
Bucky shrugs, and tears his eyes from yours to continue in his task, but stays fully aware that your gaze remains trained on him.
“If you found them, I’m sure they would want you.” He adds, almost anxiously, his mind buzzing with a million thoughts.
From the couch, you let out a short laugh, the tension in the room lifting a little. He spares a glance at you, unable to to stop the smile that creeps onto his face at the sight of your own.
“What?” He asks, and you shake your head.
“Just never took the Winter Soldier for a romantic.” You tease, making him roll his eyes.
Bucky puts the last touches on your new and improved window and takes a step back.
“Would it shock you to learn HYDRA didn’t count it as a useful skill?”
If you like and enjoy, a comment or a reblog would be greatly appreciated!
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes/reader#bucky barnes/you#story: tttb#soulmate au
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niagara falls
TW: past thoughts of suicide, drinking, car accident (not involving reader), pining (lmk if i missed anything plz)
Summary - spencer explodes on reader after coming to a realization, and reader decides to take a much needed vacation - away from him.
WC - 5,305
masterlist
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"i don't understand why you're like this!" spencer shouted as he slung his satchel off his shoulder and onto the couch. "why do you even care?!"
"why do i care?!" you scoffed. "you seriously aren't asking me that, spencer," you rolled your eyes in disbelief. "because i care about you. that's why i care. i'm so sorry my caring about you is an inconvenience," you sarcastically apologized, throwing your hands up in frustration as he sat down on the couch with his head laying in his hands.
"you're just so overbearing sometimes, y/n. i can't handle it right now!" he yelled, finally pulling his head up to meet your gaze only to find your eyes welling up with tears. "are you seriously crying right now?" he chuckled as he rolled his eyes once again.
"spencer please... just tell me why you're so upset right now. i want to help you," you pleaded, trying to calm yourself down as you sat on his couch beside him, placing a hand gently on his knee.
"well maybe i don't want your help! i never asked you to help me!" he slung your hand off his knee as he rose to his feet once again.
"why won't you let me help you? i'm your friend, spence. i want to help you... please," you admitted as a year slipped down your cheek.
"i don't want your help! i don't want you here! i don't want to be near you! i wish you died when the unsub took you. i should've let him just finish the fucking job!" he yelled, running a hand through his hair as he turned away from you. "i mean it seemed like you wanted to die anyways because of your carelessness. your stupidity! so why don't you do just that?" he walked into his kitchen and grabbed a bottle of water.
you stayed silent, unaware of what to do with what he just admitted. your best friend just said he wished you had died. he wished you had been killed.
you didn't know what to do, but you knew you didn't want to stay with him for one more second. you were done trying to help him through whatever was going on.
so you got up and left. you walked out of his door and slowly made your way to the car, still trying to process what just happened.
spencer looked up when he heard his door softly shut. he grabbed his water and walked into the living room, only to find you not there anymore.
then he finally processed what he had said, himself. he said he wished you had died. he told you he wanted you dead.
he went to his room, not bothering with anything else at that point, and laid down on his bed. spencer felt guilty about what he had said, but he was sure you wouldn't want to see him.
but you would've done anything to see him. you waited inside your car, outside of his building for nearly half an hour just hoping he'd come down.
you wanted him to apologize, or to say he didn't mean it, anything that would suggest he didn't mean what he had said.
but he didn't come down.
you even saw as his lights turned off in his apartment, signaling his sleep, before you decided to drive off.
which leads to you now.
you were at a bar after calling penelope and emily, jj wasn't able to make it because of will and the kids. you were still in your work clothes, but managed to clean up the makeup that had began to streak down your face.
when the two girls got there, you had already been through a couple drinks within the past twenty minutes waiting for them, in spite of your knowledge of you being a lightweight.
"y/n!" you heard penelope greet you accompanied by the tell tale sound of her heels clicking against the floor. "my pumpkin pie what happened?!" she said as she approached you, gently placing a hand on your shoulder as she took a seat beside you.
"are you alright, y/n?" emily asked as she approached the chair on the opposite side of you.
"i'm... yup," you giggled as you turned to face emily. "is that unsub still in custody? maybe he still wants to have his go with me," you asked before busting out in laughter.
"what? y/n why...?" emily questioned, looking past you and making eye contact with penelope, silently asking if she understood what you meant. "why would you say that?" she asked softly, taking her coat off in preparation for the rest of the night.
"welllll, pretty lady, apparently spencer should've just let him finish the job when he took me," you giggled, leaning in closer to emily. "at this point i think spencer might want to finish the job himself!" you whisper shouted, penelope still able to hear your comment as you busted out in laughter once again.
"what'd boy wonder say?" penelope asked, scooting her chair closer to yours and emily's in hopes of hearing you better.
"he said 'i wish you died when the unsub took you. i should've let him finish the fucking job!'" you said with a smile on your face, the giggles still popping out of your mouth every so often.
penny and emily shared a knowing look as they glanced at each other. emily raised her eyebrows in suspicion as penelope rubbed her lips together with furrowed brows.
"i think you guys forget," you hiccuped, "i'm a profiler, silly gooses. i knoowww that look you guys are giving each other," you slammed your hands down on the table. "he meant what he said. he wants me dead," you frowned, the giggling finally ceasing as you took in the harshness of the situation. "maybe i should be, you guys."
"no! no, no, no," penny insisted, placing a hand on your shoulder to turn you towards her. she took note of the tears in your eyes once again. "he doesn't want you dead, y/n. he lost it when he found out the unsub took you."
"garcia's right. he could barely think straight for longer than 15 seconds when you disappeared," emily confirmed. "he cares about you, don't forget that."
"you should've seen him tonight, em," you turned to face emily, taking another sip of your drink before penny took it from you despite your protests. "he told me he didn't want to be near me and that he didn't want my help," you sniffled, wiping the tears from your eyes before they fell. "i just wanted him to be okay..."
"i know you did sweetie," penny consoled as she rubbed a hand on your back.
you leaned forward and rested your head on emily's shoulder as she wrapped her arms around you. penny continued to rub your back as sobs racked through your body. eventually, your sobs slowed and you were able to sit back up and wipe your tears.
he knew about your struggle with depression in the past. he knew that there was a point in your life when you didn't even want your life. he had to know the weight of his words as he said them.
and that hurt worse than the fact that he said them.
the fact that he knew how much they'd hurt you.
"i think i just need a break from him for a while," you sniffled as you used a napkin to wipe your tear stained cheeks.
you and spencer had spent practically every free night you had together. whether you went to his place or him yours, you spent whatever free time you had together.
you would watch those foreign films together, where he would whisper the translations in your ear. he would try to teach you to be better at chess. you would attempt to teach him to be a better cook. each of you loved spending time together.
so spencer saying that to you, knowing your backstory and your history, hurt more than you'd care to admit.
"are you sure?" emily asked concerned.
"he meant it, em. it was like he hated me. i don't... i don't want to see him again. at least not for a while," you frowned at the admission, picking at your nails in your lap.
"maybe that's for the best. a little break?" penelope agreed. "you still have a lot of vacation time, y'know," she suggested, nudging your shoulder slightly.
"yea. i think i might take a vacation for a month or two. visit my family, see some sights," you shrugged.
you and spencer had been looking through catalogues together at different sights you'd like to see together. those were the only places you'd thought about seeing, so you'd probably just visit them alone, try to make your own memories without him tainting them.
"that sounds fun, y/n. it's a good idea," she gently scratched your back.
"just uhm... don't tell spencer, please," you asked as you placed a twenty on the counter of the bar.
"whatever you want, sugar," penelope agreed, helping you stand to your feet. "we carpooled here, so i'll just drive you home, okay?" penelope suggested as you nodded in agreement.
"you can stay the night. you don't need to be out this late, pen," you practically demanded.
"yes ma'am," penny laughed at your care for others, even when you felt horrible.
you've always been the person that's there for everyone, even spencer.
when they each went through their own trouble or needed help you were there for them.
especially spencer.
and now after you had your own traumatic experience where you thought you would die yourself, spencer wasn't there for you. instead, he added to the hurt and pain.
penelope drove you home, you fell asleep on the way. she slept in your guest bedroom and helped you when you had to throw up in the middle of the night.
you had never been more grateful to not have worn the next day. you called hotch to let him know of your plans of vacation for a couple months, which he allowed.
he thought it was an excellent decision for you to take a vacation. you'd always worked hard on everything you did. paperwork or a case, you did your best. so he knew this break would really help you to relax.
so, you planned everything out. you got a plane ticket to see your family, and you would drive everywhere from there on out with a rental car.
you would see the statue of liberty, the empire state building, acadia national park, walters art gallery, the national aquarium, and so many other places you and spencer had looked through together.
part of you felt guilty for doing this without him, but you figured since he wanted you dead he could just go see the places by himself. he'd probably enjoy them even more without you, anyway.
you had decided to turn your phone off, not wanting to be bothered by the nuisance of social media, but you left your work phone on in case of an emergency. you had gotten a video camera in hopes of recording your journey.
you sent postcards at every location you went to. you even sent them pictures of you and your family together, smiles in every single one of them.
your mom and step dad were overjoyed to see you. they could tell there was something that pushed you for this vacation other than just needing a break from work, but they didn't push since they were just excited to see you.
you videoed them upon your arrival, them hugging you tightly and your dogs jumping on you.
the sights were absolutely stunning. you couldn't believe how amazing the views were. they were more incredible than you could imagine.
part of you couldn't stop thinking about spencer and how much you missed him. you had wanted to see these places together, but you figured he never wanted to see you again.
so at each spot, you made a separate video dedicated to spencer. you told him how part of you wished he was there to tell you his facts he had about the places. you told him how you wished he actually wanted to be there with you, but understood that he needed his own space.
as happy as you seemed in those pictures and at those sights, when you got back to your hotels you would break down.
you didn't understand how spencer could be so cruel to you after you trying to be the best friend you could be.
now you had one more week of vacation and you only had one more sight to see, the one you were the most excited about.
*
the day spencer blew up on you, he couldn't get over how rude his words had been. he decided to leave you be the next few days, letting you both cool off from the blowup that had ensued.
the day he had gone back to work, he got you your favorite muffin, coffee, and flowers. he placed them on your desk waited for you to walk through the doors so he could beg for your forgiveness.
but you didn't show up.
he went into hotch's office in hopes of finding answers, only to be told that you had requested time off.
he was riddled with guilt from the new information. you had practically fled because of his words.
he didn't talk to anyone the rest of the day. he just finished his paperwork quickly and went home.
when he saw the postcards you had sent emily, jj, derek, penelope, rossi, and hotch, he felt part of his heart break.
all of the places you went were the places he wanted to take you.
he wanted to tell you the fun facts about those places that he researched just to see your smile. he wanted to hold your hand as you looked out on new york as you stood in the empire state building. he wanted those experiences with you.
and there you were experiencing them without him. enjoying them like you had never discussed them with him yourself.
and you never even sent him a postcard.
during all of this, spencer had received the cold shoulder from practically everyone. they had stopped asking him out after cases, and didn't talk to him unless it had to do with the cases they were on.
"morgan! can you at least tell me why everyone's treating me like this?" spencer begged him to reveal the truth for what felt like the millionth time.
"reid. you're telling me you seriously don't know why everyone's mad at you?" he scoffed. "you're a profiler. figure it out," he demanded as he turned to walk back to his desk, unaware that the shaggy haired man had followed him.
"i've tried. please, just tell me," he asked, his eyes welling with tears.
"because of what you told her, reid," morgan sighed, finally looking at the man standing beside him. "you told her you wanted her dead. we all know her past struggles, and you still told her you wished she was dead. that was so beyond low, reid," morgan informed the man.
spencer stood there, taking in the information.
he didn't realize that nobody knew why he had said that. nobody knew why he pushed you away.
"sh-she really believes that?" spencer asked, watching morgan nod. "i don't want her dead. i need her. i've always needed her. i'll always need her," he shook his head in frustration, running his hand through his hair. "i-i said that because i realized how much i needed her. i realized how much i love her and it terrified me. i was just scared of those feelings, morgan. sh-she can't go. i can't lose her, derek," spencer cried, tears streaming down his face as he admitted his feelings for the first time out loud.
"well you sure have a funny way of showing it, reid," morgan rolled his eyes before sighing in compliance. "if you really love her, show her that. she's traveling alone right now, thinking you hate her and thinking that you don't want her in the world right now," morgan shook his head as he stood up to hand some files in to hotch.
"i know. b-but what should i do?" the boy genius wondered.
"go to her, dumbass. let her know how you feel and how much of a dumbass you are," morgan said as he walked off to hand his files in.
spencer ran to penelope's lair in hopes to track where you were.
"garcia!" spencer said upon entrance.
"reid. what do you want?" she asked in a monotoned voice.
"garcia, please just listen to me. you have to hear my side of the story, please," he begged. she turned around in her chair to face spencer, raising her eyebrows to entice him to finish the story. "i love her," he ripped the band-aid off. "i'm in love with her, and i only realized it when i thought i might lose her forever. and that feeling... it-it terrified me. so, i pushed her away. i couldn't... i couldn't go on knowing that she didn't feel the same, so i ruined our friendship."
"spencer..." penelope sighed, bringing her hand up to her forehead in an attempt to not explode on the man in front of her. "she was absolutely devastated. she went to the bar that night and... she drank. you know that she never drinks, spencer. not since her dad was in that car accident. she was distraught because you knew her past. you knew and you still yelled that at her..." penelope looked at the tears in his eyes, realizing how much he truly felt for you. "but i guess i can help you. although i promised her i wouldn't tell you anything!" she chastised. spencer ran over and hugged her tightly.
"oh thank you so much, garcia! thank you!!" he exclaimed excitedly. "i'm gonna go tell hotch i need a week off to visit her!" he said before running out of garcia's office.
penelope had gotten the information he needed from tracking your work phone, and gave it to him. spencer was approved to leave abruptly by hotch, him being understanding of the direct of the situation.
truth be told, hotch had a suspicion reid was the reason you left. he had noticed the tension between the two of you after they got you back from the unsub, and just came to a conclusion after you asked for time off.
so of course he let spencer have time off. he hoped he would try to fix things between the two of you. hotch was a bit worried you might leave the into if things weren't resolved, so whatever would keep you with them would work.
spencer figured you'd choose to go to the place you were most excited about last. you always wanted that kind of flare, the buildup to the most beautiful sight you'd see. when penelope told him where you were after tracking your phone, he wasn't surprised in the slightest.
he ordered the first ticket to upstate new york, and reserved a room at the hotel he found you had been staying at after garcia tracked your credit card purchases.
*
"morgan, i just finished packing," spencer said while on the phone with his friend, putting his suitcase into the back of a cab so he could get to the airport.
"good. don't forget to have flare, reid. women love that stuff," morgan chuckled.
"not y/n, morgan. she wouldn't want that attention," spencer practically scoffed at him while shutting the trunk, now stepping into the back of the cab.
"right, right. my bad," he raised his hands in defense in spite of spencer not being able to see him.
"aright, i've got to go now," spencer announced.
"let me know how it goes, alright?" morgan requested, still feeling a little eager at the entire situation going down.
"of course," spencer accepted. "bye."
spencer sighed as he gave the cab driver the address of the airport. he wasn't sure about him confessing his feelings for you, but that's the only way to show you how sorry he was, and how he didn't mean a word he had said to you.
he hated the past three weeks without you. without your gentle touch, melodious laughter piercing his ears at one of his crummy jokes. without the sight of your beautiful smile, or the way your voice sounded while mindlessly singing as you attempted to teach him how to cook.
he found himself watching videos he had of you and him together, scrolling through your pictures.
some were silly, goofy pictures you had taken of the two of you. some of the pictures were of you and him in formal wear at rossi's, him looking at you in your dress like you're the most beautiful thing he's ever seen... mostly because you are. some are of you asleep on his couch cuddled into his chest and gripping onto him in the midst of your dream, your smile signified that it was a good dream, at that.
he didn't know when he fell in love. all he knew was that he had fallen. hard. he didn't even care enough to figure out when the exact moment was, and he might as well have not tried.
he fell in love with you over time.
because over time you would reveal a little bit more of yourself to him that he found himself admiring. at first it was the way you secretly had a crush on james t. kirk. then it was that you snort when you truly laugh... something you were insecure about but he found even more adorable.
then it was about your dad.
it was about the car accident that ensued after a drunk driver slammed into him.
then he understood why you were so protective over the team when they went out together. you never drank, and always drove the girls and morgan home when they drank too much. you took the responsibility because you couldn't stand the thought of losing them like you had your own father years ago.
his death is what made you question everything, including your own existence. you didn't understand why he was gone, and left you behind.
on the anniversary of his death, you and spencer had gone to his grave to mourn him. he held you while you cried, and helped you eat the picnic you had brought with you.
so no, there wasn't a specific moment where he could pinpoint where he fell in love with you. this was merely because there's so much love he has for you that he's pretty sure he'll never stop falling in love.
once the plane landed in new york, he took a cab to the hotel you were both staying at and got everything ready. he remembered everything you were doing that day, and decided to surprise you at the one place he knew you were going to love the most.
niagara falls.
he got dressed in jeans and a white button up shirt. he put a brown sweater vest overtop the button up, and wore his black converse and satchel.
he had stopped by to get your favorite flowers. he got a mixture because he knows how you hate only being able to have one favorite - marigolds, daisies, asters, lilies, white tulips, and lilacs. you love the mixture of the colors together.
he planned to stop by your room and give you the flowers, begging for your forgiveness and admit his undying love for you. no problem.
then the time came.
his palms were sweaty, he could practically tell his voice would crack upon his admission to you. worst case scenario, you say you hate his guts and never want to see him, transfer out of the team, and he never sees you again. that's something he can't let happen.
best case scenario, you return his feelings and let him see this one last place with you as a truce. he gets to tell you the facts he learned just for this experience, and you live happily ever after.
he really hopes it's best case scenario.
meanwhile, you were looking through your suitcase. you had realized the last sweater you brought with you was spencer's, you just didn't realize it upon packing. you felt the tears pricking the corner of your eyes, threatening to spill over.
you could throw the sweater away, and just wear one of your other shirts. or you could bask in his scent one last time before christening your life from him.
that decision had to wait, because there was a knock on your door.
you threw a robe over your shirtless body, and ran to open the door. your face fell upon seeing who was there. you were confused, shocked that you saw the man you thought hated your guts at your door, with flowers nonetheless.
"s-spencer?" you questioned, squinting your eyes as if he was someone else.
"h-hi, y/n," spencer swallowed. your eyes widened upon this revelation before you scoffed and swiftly slammed the door shut.
you ran to get the sweater on and over your head, but spencer had thought you were shutting him out. he thought you were turning him away before he even had a chance to express his feelings.
"please let me explain, y/n!" he exclaimed, banging on the door before you swiftly opened it again.
"yeesh, smartypants," you joked as you used to, a small smile playing on your lips. "i was just putting a shirt on," you said before moving out of the doorway, signaling him to come inside.
"i uhm... i got these for you," he handed you the flowers after you shut the door behind you.
"thank you," you pulled your lips into a tight lipped smile before sighing. "why are you here?" you bit your bottom lip softly, trying to refrain yourself from crying just at the sight of seeing him.
you sat down on the edge of the bed, patting beside you for him to sit down. you began twiddling your fingers in your lap, avoiding his gaze.
"i'm about to say something, and then i'll explain something," he said slowly, forgetting every single word he had practiced before coming into your room, seeing your face in person, viewing your smile, noticing you still wearing his sweater... giving him a glimmer of hope. "when you got caught by the unsub... i broke. i broke like i never have before, and i didn't know why," he sighed. "until i did," he reached his hand over to grab yours gently. "i'm in love with you."
your face shot up, finally looking him in the eyes, confusion displayed in yours.
"i've been falling in love with you for... who know how long. all i know is that i thought i had lost you, and crumpled without you. i can't do anything without you. i can't live without you. i need you," he said, tears filling his on eyes as you placed a hand on top of his.
"so w-why'd you tell me that..." you trailed off, your eyes gazing downward in fear.
"because," he used his free hand to grasp your chin softly, pulling it up to meet his eyes, "i was terrified," he moved his hand to cup your cheek. "i was scared about our friendship being ruined because i loved you, and because i was scared i pushed you away. i know that's no excuse, and nothing can excuse what i said to you. ever. but i'll spend every second of my life trying to make it up to you. please... just say you'll let me make it up to you," tears were now streaming steadily down his face.
"spencer," you took you hands out of his, leaving his hand on your knee, and wiped his face with both of them.
you leaned in slowly, looking him in the eyes to see if he understood what you were about to do. he met you somewhere in the middle, connecting your lips together in a frenzy of sentiment, longing, and passion. it was build up of every emotion the two of you have been harboring for as long as either of you could remember.
his hand on your face remained there, pulling you into him a little more. his other went slightly higher on your knee, now meeting your thigh and giving it a gentle squeeze as your hands moved to the back of his neck.
when you opened your mouth for his tongue to enter, it met yours tentatively, slowly exploring every crevice, you doing the same. neither of you fought for dominance, allowing there to be certain kind of harmony to the moment the both of you have been dreaming of for so long.
you slowly pulled back, being sure to look in his eyes to see nothing but admiration and endearment in them.
"i love you too, spencer," you grinned softly. "but that doesn't mean i can just forget what you said..." you said before he wrapped you in his arms.
"i absolutely understand, of course," he sniffled. his hands were wrapped around your waist, pulling your body impossibly closer to his. "don't leave, please," he begged as you embraced him by his neck, pulling his face down into the crevice in your neck.
"never again," you complied, feeling his smile against the skin on your neck, a slight chuckle leaving your lips at the sentiment. your hands found their way to his hair, running them though the locks gently. "wait!" you said as you jolted off of the bed to stand up. "how did you know where i was?"
"well..." spencer stood up and made his way back to you. "garcia helped a bit, and i realized that out of all of the places we talked about visiting, you haven't been to your favorite one yet. and because you're you, you saved the best for last," he finished as he wrapped his arms around your waist to pull you closer to him.
"penelope!!" you huffed, your arms locking behind his neck. "i swore her to secrecy an you broke her!" you exclaimed. "oh well, she lasted longer than i expected," you shrugged before leaning in to give spencer another kiss.
"yea, i had to confess my love for you to her first so she'd tell me," he whispered before leaning in with you slowly, you pulling back a bit at what he revealed.
"how many people know?" you questioned, playing with the hair on his neck and brows furrowed.
"well derek knows, garcia knows, i'm pretty sure hotch has a suspicion, so at this point most likely everyone on the team," he bent down to begin kissing your neck, sending shivers down your spine.
"oh?" you asked as he mumbled a 'mmhmm' against your skin.
you're breathing slowed down as he began to suck on the soft spot on your neck, a warm feeling rushing straight to your core you tugged gently on his curls, a soft moan leaving the both of your lips.
"spencer..." you quietly called. "i have to be there in two and a half hours," you trailed off, your hand now running through the top of his hair, all the way down, feeling the softness of his locks between your fingers.
end of part 1 ;)
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