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cjsinkythoughts · 4 years ago

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Inner Conflict

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 3586

Warnings: !FATWS SPOILERS!, Cursing, Some Angst, Some Fluff, Sam and Bucky being idiots, Mentions of PTSD, Anxiety, and Depression

A/N: Here’s Part Three to my FATWS Series, which I’m making a masterlist for that you can find Here.

Uh…it’s a little long, and I apologize for that. It doesn’t even encompass the whole second episode, only the first half, so a Part 3.5 will be coming out later today probably (it’s my day off work so I have all day to relax and write!) I tried not doing a line for line rewrite of the episode, but there are quotes from the show in here. Mostly it’s Reader’s thoughts and feelings towards what’s happening while conversations are going on around. Reader’s backstory is a bit more unfurled. It’s more action packed and more scene-for-scene of the episode than the previous two. Less emotions shared and less hurt/comfort type of thing, but that’ll be back in the next part probably along with more scenes not in the show. The next part I’m planning won’t be as long, it’ll mainly just be the Couples Therapy scene and a bit more angst with her and Sam and her and Bucky.

Because there’s four more episodes and I don’t know what’s going to happen in them, I’m kinda hesitant on spilling out exactly what is going on with the Reader and what her role was on the original team, but we’ll get there. Also, I wasn’t expecting to be writing multiple pieces for one episode, but if the other episodes are as packed as this one, prepare yourself for more parts than anticipated. We’re already on Part 3 and I’ve got Part 3.5 coming. Just bare with me as I don’t know what’s going to happen in future episodes! Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy it!

(Not beta’d so excuse any mistakes.)

!SPOILERS UNDER CUT!

Walking out of the shower, ruffling a towel through your hair to dry it off, you froze at the sound of the TV. A sigh left your lips. It’s all he’d been doing the last few days - watching the news. Keeping up with the tour for the new Captain America.

You peeked out of the small bedroom to find Bucky sitting on the floor, brow creased as he watched John Walker talk to the Good Morning America hostess.

“You shouldn’t be watching that.” You spoke up, leaning on the doorway, still patting your hair dry. He glanced over to you, taking in the towel wrapped around you, before looking back at the TV. Seeing you like that wasn’t anything new. “Buck, I’m serious. Brooding over it won’t make anything better.”

“What do you want me to do?”

You let out a sigh, shifting your feet and biting your lip as you thought about how to respond. “I-I haven’t figured it out yet. But obsessing over the new guy-”

“Aren’t you mad?”

You frowned at his question, his eyes meeting yours once more. “I told you already that I am.”

He tilted his head, which he did when he was confused, his eyes narrowing. “Why don’t you show it? Why aren’t you screaming or cursing or crying or something? You, of all people-”

“Because it won’t help anything, Buck.” You shook your head, pushing off the wall. “I want to. But if I let myself go down that road…” Dropping your gaze to the floor, you take a breath, collecting your thoughts. “This is such a complicated situation, James. I’m being contacted left and right for a statement on the new Captain. People trying to see my reaction. Senators trying to get me to meet with him. I can’t let myself snap. I can’t.”

He scowled. “They’re still bothering you?”

A dry chuckle escaped your lips and you nodded. “Makes me miss the days when no one knew who I was; when I was the behind-the-scenes seventh Avenger. But I made that choice to come out, and I have to deal with the consequences now. Blowing up will only-”

“Even though I never met him…he feels like a brother.”

That one statement stopped you in your tracks. Bucky’s head whipped back to the TV, his jaw ticking, his nose scrunching up.

“Did he really just say that?”

Bucky merely nodded, his chest heaving as he tried getting his breathing under control. “Feel like snapping now?”

You purse your lips as you held in the tears stinging your eyes. After composing yourself, you moved over and grabbed the remote, letting out a tiny sniffle as you did so. You tentatively touched Bucky’s shoulder, silently asking him if he needed anything from you. His response was to open his arms, so you quickly got down besides him to hold him.

“He is my brother, doll.”

“I know, Buck.” You pressed a soft kiss to his head, which rested against your bare shoulder.

Your bare knees are pressed harshly against the wooden panels of the floor, and you’re twisted awkwardly, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. As long as he was comfortable, you would take the uncomfortable position. As long as he was being held, you would take the soreness it would leave. As long as you could help him be some sort of okay, you would take not being okay in this position.

You two sat like that for a few more moments before your phone buzzed. You gave a sigh, pulling back and holding his cheeks in either hand. He wasn’t crying, although he was on the verge of doing so. You’d seen him cry before, so you knew he didn’t mind. For you it was a different story.

Bucky had maybe seen you cry twice since the whole Blip thing went down. And one of them was over the phone, so he didn’t see it so much as he heard it. You didn’t let yourself cry in front of him. Or anyone, for that matter. It was a part of you. The only person you ever felt comfortable enough around to cry in front of…wasn’t there. And you couldn’t change that.

“We’ll figure it out.” You told him, nodding gently and letting a small, sad smile quirk the corners of your lips up. “Okay? We’ll figure it out.”

The clench in his jaw loosened as your fingers worked circles into the hinge, making him relax and nod back. You pressed a tender kiss to his forehead before standing up, moving across the room to where your phone was on the counter. You assumed it’d be another government official or news reporter, so you were slightly shocked to see ‘Sammy’ flashing up at you.

Your eyebrows furrowed as you read his message, a slight pout forming on your face.

“Doll?” Toned arms wrapped around you, warm and cool, his chin setting on your shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s Sam. He needs my help with something.”

“I’m coming with you.”

You turned in his arms, eyes narrowing in suspicion. “Why?”

He shrugged, licking his lips. “You might need help.”

“Bucky, you can’t go if you’re just going to yell at him.”

“I won’t.”

You studied his features. He was lying, you knew that. Of course he was going to snap at Sam for giving up the shield. He was mad and they got on each others’ nerves every chance they could find, so of course he was going to.

But you still found yourself saying yes and telling him to go pack a bag. You were never able to say no to Steve and it seemed that got passed on. What a nuisance it was.

****************

And you were so right. It was the first thing he said once Sam came into view coming down the stairs.

“You shouldn’t have given up the shield, Sam.”

“James.” You squeezed the hand he was holding, voice pleading for him not to do this right now. He huffed, stepping back to let you greet Sam properly, giving the man a hug. “Hi, Sammy.”

“It’s been a while.” Sam commented, pulling back and holding you by the shoulders. “You look good. Not that you’ve ever looked otherwise.”

You gave him a small smile. “You do too.”

“Thanks for coming. I know it’s short notice, but-”

“It’s fine, Sam. Really.” You insist.

Sam nodded, before eyeing Bucky. “Did you have to bring him?”

“Samuel-”

“This is wrong.” Bucky cut in, staring Sam down, falling into step besides him as the man started heading outside.

“James-”

“Hey, hey. Look. I’m working, all right?”

You rolled your eyes as the two started arguing, stopping your stride to take a breather. You used to joke about babysitting them, but it didn’t feel like a joke anymore and you were getting tired of it. All the bickering for no reason. The contempt they held for one another. Steve made you promise that you would look out for them, and you were trying, but they weren’t making it easy.

When you joined them again, you raised an eyebrow at the direction the conversation turned. How the hell did they get from arguing about the shield to what a wizard is?

“Ahh! Haha! A sorcerer is a wizard without a hat!”

You gave Sam a look as he babbled about how he was right. “Sorcerer Mickey has a hat. Isn’t that, like, how he gets his powers and everything?”

Bucky grinned at you. “Thank you!”

“Excuse you!” Sam scoffed, pointing an accusing finger at you. “We were having a conversation!”

“Yeah. A stupid conversation I just ended. Now I’m gonna be in the plane. Feel free to join me when you’re done being idiots.”

They both spluttered, but you were already walking away, leaving no room for arguments. As you loaded onto the plane, you spotted the Lieutenant whom Sam mentioned who had been helping him out with missions. Torres, you thought, remembering his name from a previous phone call with your friend.

“You Lieutenant Torres?” You asked, walking up to him.

He blinked, before his eyes widened, a grin appearing on his face. He seemed young, which you were perfectly okay with considering you’ve been working alongside old men for the past decade. It was always nice to work with a fresh face, which you found after you started working with Wanda and Peter.

The thought of the two youngest members made you falter, not having heard from either of them since Christmas almost six months prior, but you quickly recovered yourself, shaking away the worries you had for them.

“You’re Y/N Y/L/N! I’m a huge fan! I’ve read all your files!”

Chuckling a little, you held out your hand. “Most of those are heavily classified.”

He ducked his head with a little blush, rubbing the back of his neck after shaking your hand. “I, uh, I might’ve…used connections.”

“It’s okay.” You reassured him, throwing him a wink. “I won’t tell. Can you tell me what’s going on? Sam didn’t exactly explain the situation.”

He nodded, getting into ‘work mode’, something you’ve seen in most military men, informing you of their recent missions and the group known as the Flag-Smashers and giving you a file on them. He was in the middle of telling you about his solo mission in Germany when your two fellas came in, sending each other small glares, but remaining quiet.

Bucky caught your eye and sent an apologetic look your way, to which you just smiled at before turning back to Torres.

“Well I’m glad you’re okay.” You told him once he was done.

“Oh yeah. It wasn’t that bad.”

You laughed and nodded. “I’m sure. You seem like a tough kid.”

He smiled, before looking around and jabbing his thumb behind his shoulder. “I-I’ve gotta go, but-”

“We can talk later.” You promised with a grin.

“Really?!”

“Of course! I have a feeling we’ll be working together more, and I like getting to know who’s gonna have my back.”

He beamed and nodded, walking backwards. “That’d be awesome! Talk to you later then!”

You giggled as he turned around and jogged off, pumping his fist in the air. You turned to a grinning Sam and nodded towards where Torres left. “I like him. Seems like a nice kid.”

“He is. Very energetic. A little reckless, but he’s got a good heart.”

You hummed, the smile falling from your face as you flipped through the file Torres gave you. “So…Munich?”

“Yeah. Listen, I’m sorry again for taking you away from the search, but-”

“Search is off.” You informed him quickly, not looking up. “Until further notice.”

The plane went quiet, before Sam cleared his throat. “So…no sign of Wanda yet, then?”

You shut the file, looking up at the men whose features were laced with concern. “I’m gonna go talk to the pilot. Behave while I’m gone. No pushing each other off the plane.”

“Doll?”

You were stopped by the hand that grabbed your wrist as you passed Bucky. You shot him another smile, knowing it wasn’t convincing enough for him, but it being the best one you had. “I’m okay. I’ve just gotta ask him some questions.”

************

Opening your mouth to stop him, you groaned when Bucky jumped out of the plane before you could speak. First Sam jumps without sharing the plan, then Bucky jumps without having a plan. Or a parachute. Or wings. Or anything.

Torres looked at you, but all you could do was shrug. “I dunno what to tell you, kid.”

“You’re not gonna do that, are you?”

“No.” You reassured him, shaking your head. “I’m gonna wait ‘til we land like a normal person and take my bike. I just have to pray that they’ll wait to do anything stupid until I get there.”

They didn’t wait. You’re pretty sure they didn’t even think about waiting. By the time you got to them, they were fighting - and losing, might you add - to six really strong people on top of two semi trucks.

Because why wouldn’t they?

Oh, oh. And on top of that, the fake was there, throwing the shield. The shield that didn’t belong to him. The shield that meant so much more than he would ever know.

“Hi, doll! Sorry we started the party without you!” Bucky shouted from where he was hanging off the edge, that close to the street and getting his head torn off by the tire.

“I’m so tired of babysitting you two, you know that?!”

“Oh! Sorry we’re such an inconvenience for you! Blame him! He jumped the gun!” Sam shouted, coming to fly next to you as you rolled up your sleeves, standing on your bike, using one hand to steer.

“Can I get a little help already?!”

“Sam-!”

“On it!”

Knowing that no matter how much they pissed each other off, Sam would make sure Bucky was okay and vice versa, you focused on getting to the top, where Walker and a buddy of his were struggling a little bit.

You climbed up to the roof of the semi no one was on, wincing when you heard your bike skidding across the pavement. There goes half your salary.

You couldn’t dwell on it for very long, considering one of the guys appeared in front of you. You recognized the fighting - the strength - and faltered, a memory resurfacing at a very bad time.

“C’mon, honey. You can do better than that.” Steve grinned at you, holding out a hand to help you up.

“Excuse me for not having super strength, Rogers.” You huffed out, taking it and letting him pull you up.

“You don’t need to be stronger than me. You just need to be smarter.”

“That’ll be easy.” You teased, stretching your arms before getting into your stance again. “You’re a dumbass sometimes.”

“Yeah, well, who chose to be friends with this dumbass?”

“Everyone needs a dumbass for a friend.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “So I’m your dumbass?”

“If you want.”

The grin he shot you made your heart skip a beat. “If you’ll have me.”

You blinked, but Steve wasn’t in front of you anymore and you weren’t in the gym in DC.

The guy caught the punch you distractedly threw and twisted your arm, making you cry out, kicking him in the back of the knee and flipping him over your shoulder.

You went to kick him again, but he caught your leg and threw you against the side of the other semi. You were able to grab onto where Bucky had ripped through the side, but you winced as the metal cut through your palm. Sam had just flown under the trucks, taking Buck with him, and you knew when a fight wasn’t worth it, so you quickly moved around the truck, letting Walker and his pal distract the Flag-Smashers, before letting yourself fall onto the side where the grass was.

You wanted to lay there, to catch your breath and curse yourself for getting distracted. You hadn’t had a flashback like that in a while. But you didn’t let yourself. You had to make sure the guys were okay.

Standing up made you cringe; you could feel the throbbing in your shoulder from where it was no doubt dislocated and your leg was aching, the muscle probably pulled when the guy threw you.

“Doll!” You turned, seeing Bucky and Sam sprinting towards you a few yards down the road. “Hey, hey.” Bucky immediately had his hands hovering over you, scanning your body. “Are you okay?”

You nodded, shoving his hands away. “I’m fine.”

“What’s wrong with your shoulder?”

“I think I dislocated it.”

Sam frowned. “What the hell happened?”

You gave him a weird look, starting to limp across the field to where you noticed a side road earlier. “They were super soldiers, Sam. And we got our asses kicked.”

“Yeah, but you know how to fight a super soldier-”

“It’s been a while.”

“Bullshit.” Sam side stepped in front of you, making you stop. “What happened?”

“I-I just got distracted, okay?”

“Y/N. Look at me.” Bucky took your face between his palms, eyes worried. “Are you okay?”

You nodded. A tired sigh left your lips and you looked anywhere but his eyes. “Yeah. I’m fine. Just hurting. My leg, I think I pulled it or something-”

“C’mere.” Bucky turned and crouched down, making you blink.

“What?”

“You shouldn’t be walking. We don’t wanna make it worse.”

“But it’s just a strain, it won’t-”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Just get on the man’s back, Y/N.”

You bit your lip before sighing and carefully climbing on his back. He shifted you gently, making sure to hold your leg with caution, leaning his head into yours when you hooked your chin on his shoulder. “You-you don’t have to talk about what happened. Just-just know that when you do…I’ll be here, okay?”

You nodded, moving to press your nose against the column of his throat. “Okay.”

But you could never tell them. How could you? How could you tell the world’s longest POW that you were having nightmares? How could you complain to an Air Force vet who served two tours in Afghanistan and watched his best friend get blown out of the air that you were having flashbacks?

You weren’t sure if it was PTSD or anxiety or depression. Maybe all three. It didn’t matter, though, because you didn’t want to admit it. You wouldn’t admit it. No one thought the Blip messed you up that badly. No one thought Steve leaving did that much damage. And you were okay with that. You were okay with them thinking you were healing - that you were fine - because they needed to see that it could be done. That they could be fine, too. Especially the men walking, Sam teasing Bucky per usual.

It wasn’t until a horn honked that you allowed yourself to be pulled out of your thoughts. A scoff left you when you realized who it was, switching the side you were laying on so your cheek pressed up against the cool metal of his left shoulder, facing away from the jeep.

You tried ignoring the guy as he talked about working together and shit, taking a shuddering breath, making Bucky squeeze your uninjured thigh. There was no way you were working with him. You couldn’t. It’d be like betraying Steve and you didn’t need that on top of all the other things you were dealing with.

You couldn’t deny the need for a ride though. The airport was 20 miles away and you were hurting pretty bad. You suspected that was the reason the guys relented, Bucky tenderly setting you down in the jeep between him and Sam, careful of your injuries.

You stared at your lap as Walker and Sam talked shop. You understood where they were coming from, you were always able to see both sides of the coin, but it didn’t mean you were going to willingly work with him.

“I got mad respect for all of y’all, but you were kind of getting your asses kicked till we showed up.”

You scoffed at that, finally raising your eyes to meet Walker’s friend’s. “Like you were doing any better?”

Bucky reached over to grab her hand that was resting on her lap. “You know, I’ve been trying to get in contact with you.” Walker faced you, eyes raking down your form. Bucky shifted in his spot, but you ran your thumb over his knuckles before he could do or say anything stupid.

“Yeah. I know. My phone hasn’t stopped blowing up for a week. Thanks for that, by the way.”

Walker frowned. “If you just answered-”

“I don’t care who you are. I don’t care what you’ve done. I’ve been a little busy doing my job to blow smoke up your ass on national television. Sorry if my saving people’s lives has been an inconvenience for you, but some wannabe playing dress up isn’t my top priority.”

Walker’s brows furrowed and he was about to say something, when Bucky cut in, asking his friend who he was. You were already that close to jumping out of the jeep, when the guy, Hoskins, told you three that he went by ‘Battlestar’.

If the situation wasn’t so aggravating, you would’ve laughed when Bucky immediately told the driver to stop, opening the door before the car even stopped. “C’mere, doll.” He murmured, lifting you up into his arms bridal style, before walking off, tuning out Walker as he shouted after you two.

You pouted a little when you saw Sam still talking to the guy. “What’re they talking about, Buck?”

“Some nonsense about him not replacing Steve. Just trying to be the best Captain America he can.”

You laid your head against Bucky’s chest. “The best Captain America is Steve. He can never be Steve.”

“I know, doll.”

“Steve told me once that all he was trying to do was be a good man…it’ll always amaze me that he didn’t see he was the best.”

You missed the distraught look Bucky shot towards you, the look in his eyes almost heartbroken while you talked fondly about his best friend. The tortured scrunch to his features seemed to melt away at your next words, though, and he held you tighter as you curled into his hold.

“Just like it amazes me that you don’t know how important you are to me too, Buckaroo.”

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babyjakes · 3 years ago

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forever and a day | 25. in her dreams.

〈 disclaimer: this blog posts content not suitable for individuals under the age of 18. minors are strictly prohibited from viewing, sharing, or interacting with this blog. for more information on this blog's commitment to protecting minors, read our full statement here. 〉

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summary | a story in which america’s favorite captain gives a new life and family to a five-year-old girl who has suffered well beyond her years at the hands of hydra.

characters | dad!steve rogers, girl/willa rogers (original character)

warnings | AU similar enough to OU to include spoilers to many Marvel movies (Age of Ultron and beyond). action and fight scenes with violence and killing. injuries/mild gore. mature themes related to and semi-graphic depictions of child abuse/neglect, past CSA and CSM, and their aftermath (emaciation, wounds, scarring, etc). medical abuse and experimentation. ptsd/trauma symptoms in a child (developmental discrepancies, de-humanized behavior, detachment, extreme fears). medical treatment of CSM and other aftermath of abuse.trauma-informed therapeutic treatment of ECT. somewhat evil!Tony Stark (eventually).

[Steve]

“Hey Cap,” Bruce greets as the elevator doors shut behind me. Walking out into the lounge, I offer my friend a nod and a smile as he sits at the large dining table, appearing to be working on something in a notebook. I take a quick glance around the rest of the empty space before walking over to the kitchen, grabbing myself a glass from one of the cabinets and filling it with water. Taking a few long gulps of the liquid, I turn back around. Bruce is looking up at me.

“Where is everyone?” I ask casually. As far as I know, no one’s left for any missions, and on a Saturday afternoon like this, it’s usually a little busier out in the common space.

“Nat and Clint are down training. Wanda and Peter are in their rooms, I think. Tony went out somewhere. I have no idea about Thor. He might’ve gone back to- oh, there he is,” Bruce says, nodding towards the hallway. I turn and look to see the god himself standing in the archway, his hammer in one hand, and a calculator in the other.

“Hello Dr. Banner, Captain,” the Asgardian greets both of us. Walking over and taking a seat at the table across from Bruce, he offers the calculator to the doctor. “I believe that Peter might require some assistance in completing his math homework,” he tells Bruce, causing him to raise an eyebrow.

“Oh yeah?” Bruce asks, “what makes you say that?”

“He and I have been working on it for the past four hours, with very minimal progress. At this point, I advise he receives higher council.” I take a few more swallows of water before I dump the rest down the drain, setting the glass in the sink.

“Where were you?” Bruce asks, looking over at me.

“I was out buying a car seat,” I explain. “Natasha and I ordered most things online, but I needed some help picking one out, so I went to a store.” Bruce nods and Thor pounds a few keys on the calculator, sighing in frustration. “Is Willa still sleeping?”

“Most likely,” Bruce guesses. Slowly but surely, we’ve been working towards transitioning into using the girl’s new name. We all slip up here and there, but for the most part, the change has been successful. Sam was very pleased when we let him know the news. He was also a big fan of the new name itself. ‘It’s kinda funky,’ he had said. 'I like it.’

“I’m gonna go check on her,” I decide, leaving the two men at the table to figure out Peter’s homework situation.

Making my way down the long hallway, I pause for a moment at the high schooler’s door, which is cracked just slightly open. Peering in, I find the boy sitting at his desk, pulling on his hair, clearly frustrated. I smile sympathetically to myself, tapping lightly a few times on the door frame. Peter glances over at me, sighing when he sees me. The dark bags under his eye tell me this must be quite some math homework.

“Hey Cap,” the boy greets, his voice mimicking his usual chirpy self, though it’s clear that underneath he’s exhausted.

“Hey bud, heard you’ve been struggling with some math,” I say gently in response. He nods, a frown forming slightly on his face. “I’m sure Bruce or Tony will be able to help you figure it out. Those guys eat numbers for breakfast,” I reassure him. The kid nods again, seeming to know I’m most likely right. “But hey, it’s only Saturday. Why don’t you give the books a break for a little while?”

“I-I can’t, sir. I mean- I-I shouldn’t. I didn’t do so hot on the last algebra test so- so I gotta make up for it this time,” Pete rambles. I smile understandingly at the teen, his diligence to his schoolwork never failing to impress me.

“I’m sure you’ll be just fine, kid,” I encourage him. “Don’t work yourself too hard, alright? You look beat.”

“Thanks, Cap,” he replies. “I’ll try to take a break soon.” At this, I give him one last nod before turning and continuing my way down the hall.

Willa’s door is closed. I pause, wondering if I should knock. Not wanting to wake the child, I decide to just gently open it, stepping inside as quietly as I can. The sight before me catches me off guard. Wanda is sitting in an armchair at Willa’s bedside, one of her arms reaching out and holding the sleeping girl’s hand. The witch’s eyes are closed, a faint red glow surrounding her head. A similar aura surrounds Willa’s, as well.

I close the door behind me, clearing my throat. Wanda snaps to attention and looks up at me, her gaze softening as it meets mine. I make my way over to her, sitting down in front of her on the edge of the mattress, making sure not to disturb the sleeping girl. “Hey Wanda,” I murmur, my voice barely above a whisper. “What are you doing here?”

The older girl takes a deep breath, biting her lip slightly before answering my question. “I came to check on her, found her crying in her sleep,” she explains, her own voice barely audible as well. “I knew she was dreaming. I wanted to see.” At this, she looks down at their connected hands, and the blanks fill in inside my head.

“You can see what she’s dreaming,” I reply, my response more of a statement than a question. Wanda nods, an unspeakable sadness washed over her delicate face. “Can you tell me?”

Taking a deep breath, the witch closes her eyes again. The red glow around her intensifies, her facial expression transitioning into deep concentration. “She’s… in a hallway. With very bright lights. She’s… being carried, slung over someone’s shoulder.” I clasp my hands together, resting my elbows on my knees, leaning in to listen. “It’s… a long hallway. She’s… afraid. She’s trying not to cry.” I glance over at Willa, a pained look resting on her pale face. “She has been carried like this many times before. She does not question what is going to happen,” Wanda tells me gravely. Then, the girl is quiet for a few moments before disclosing more. “They threw her… into a room. The floor is concrete; she hit her face. Her nose is… it’s bleeding.”

Willa whimpers in her sleep, and I have to use nearly all the strength inside of me to resist the urge to wrap her up in my arms and rock her back and forth until she wakes, safe with me again. Though it’s difficult to watch, I’m not sure waking her up would be the best thing to do at the moment. And if I’m being completely honest, I’m very intrigued to learn what she’s dreaming about.

“She’s cowering in the corner. She hears footsteps coming.” Wanda’s eyes open, and she reaches out, placing her other hand on mine. “Here, I’ll show you,” she says almost hurriedly, and suddenly, visions begin flashing before my eyes, as if I’m watching a movie on a screen.

Willa is cowering in the corner of a room, just like Wanda had described. The lights are painfully bright; the only sound is the clicking of loud boots against the floor. Someone’s coming… there’s a shadow appearing… I gasp.

It’s me. Willa is dreaming of me.

I stand in the doorway, towering over the girl’s small body burrowing into the corner. It’s a strange perspective; the vision is from Willa’s point of view. I’m looking at myself from across the room, through the eyes of the child.

I watch as I step into the room, and the light hits my face. It’s red with anger. My hands are curling up into fists.

I can feel Willa’s fear coursing through her veins at the speed of light. Her heart pounding in her chest. Her ears ringing. I watch as tears fog the lens I’m looking through. In the dream, she’s shaking. She begins to cry out loud, the sounds coming from her horrible and heartbreaking.

I watch as I walk up, grabbing her by the throat. It feels like I’m suffocating, myself. My vision begins clouding at the edges. Dream-me raises a fist and begins pounding it into Willa’s cheeks. Blood splatters everywhere. A scream is caught in her throat.

I throw her down to the ground. My boot pulls back and then swings forward, meeting her rib cage. I can feel the cracking of bones deep inside. The boot strikes her again and again, without cease. Willa can be heard screaming.

“Please, please, please.’” Over and over again.

Then suddenly, the blows stop, and for a moment, things are quiet and still. From my sideways view from the floor, I can see that a cart has been wheeled into the room. I watch as I grab a syringe from the tray, walking over and crouching down in front of Willa’s mangled body.

“Now hold still,” I tell the child, grabbing her arm and forcing the needle into her tender skin. A strange warmth spreads across my whole body. My heart breaks when I realize that Willa can no longer move.

“Please, what are y-you doing, stop, please,” she coughs through blood.

“We need more of you,” I hiss back. I watch in horror as I begin tearing off the child’s bloodied clothes.

Suddenly, the screen in front of me falls away, and I’m thrown back into reality. Wanda is sitting in front of me, her hands now off me and the child, cradling the older girl’s own head instead. My heart pounds rapidly in my chest as feelings of guilt and sadness overwhelm me. I hurt her in her dreams. I punch and kick and violate her. I doubt this is the first time she’s had a dream like this. How often do I abuse her in her sleep?

Quiet whimpering breaks my train of thought. Willa is now trembling beside me, big warm tears rolling down her cheeks. “Wanda,” I struggle to form words, turning back to my friend. “How about you go get some air?” I offer. She nods gratefully, unable to even look up at me as she quickly makes her way out of the room, closing the door behind her. Turning back to the child on the bed, my heart aches as I watch her cry. It’s time to wake her up now. I don’t want her dream to go any further.

Leaning down slightly, I pull out one of the bins beneath the bed that we’ve placed some of her new things in. I shuffle through it until I find what I’m looking for: the case of pacifiers. Opening it quietly, I pull out a light blue one with a bear on it. A comfort object, as Bruce had called it. We haven’t given her one yet. But considering everything I just saw through Wanda, I figure now might not be a bad time to start.

Sliding the bin back under the bed, I set the pacifier down on the mattress as I refocus my attention back to Willa. As gently as I can, I shift on the bed into one of our normal positions: leaning back against the pillows with the child wrapped up in my arms, cradled in my lap. More than anything, I just want her to wake up to being held.

Finally, I take one last deep breath in attempts to slow down my heart rate before I begin to rock the girl gently in my arms, hoping to rouse her from her state of reverie. Her eyes stay clamped shut, tears still pouring down her cheeks as she writhes in her sleep.

“Willa, hey,” I call out soothingly, using a careful hand to begin smoothing down her hair. “Wake up, Willa. It’s just a dream. C'mon, sweetheart. Open your eyes.” Realizing I’m getting nowhere, I sigh, moving my hand down from her hair to her cheek, wiping the tears away with my thumb as they fall. “Willa, baby, come on. Wake up for me,” I coo, my voice a little bit louder than before. Her eyelids begin to flutter and a slight feeling of relief washes over me as I murmur, “That’s right, sweetie. There you go.”

With that, the girl’s eyes shoot open, and when they connect with mine, she lets out a frightened sob. “Hey, hey. It’s okay,” I murmur as I run my thumb over her cheek again, causing her to flinch back and slam her eyes shut in fear. My other hand reaches down and feels around on the sheets until I find the object I set there earlier. I raise it up in front of the little girl, her eyes still clamped shut. Bouncing her once gently on my lap, I try to get her attention.

“Willa, sweetheart, open your eyes,” I request, not surprised in the slightest when she follows my order, her brow furrowing in confusion at the object in front of her. “Can you open your mouth for me, doll? C'mon, it’s alright,” I coax, rubbing at her cheek a little bit closer to her mouth. The child cowers back in fear, clearly scared of the item in my hand. “It’s okay, kiddo, it won’t hurt you. It’s just something to help you feel better, bug. Look, it’s even got a little bear on it,” I show her, still not seeming to convince her fully.

Sighing, my heart breaks a little as I realize there’s not going to be any easy way to do this. “It’s alright, sweetie. Not scary,” I promise one more time as I press the nub up against her closed mouth, easing it in as gently as I can as she lets out a terrified whimper. “There you go, sweetheart,” I breathe, relieved to see her softening up almost as soon as the pacifier settles in her mouth.

Wide eyes peer shyly up at mine as the girl’s tears come to a halt. I stroke her cheek again, and this time she lets me, confirming that the comfort object has done its job. Quickly and efficiently, might I add.

The side of Willa’s little head rests gently against my chest as she blinks a few times, completely satiated by the pacifier. “That’s it, see? You’re okay,” I comfort her softly, and she melts further into my arms, a familiar feeling of indescribable affection rising up in my chest. “Did you have a nightmare?” I ask the small girl, already knowing the answer. She nods silently, then sniffles. “You’re safe, sweetheart. Bad dreams are scary, I know. But they can’t hurt you.” Her eyes begin to droop slightly, and I smile at her softly, leaning down and planting a kiss on her forehead. “You can go back to sleep now, Willa. And I’ll stay right here, I promise. I’ll keep you safe.” At this, she lets out a deep breath, her eyes blinking heavily a few times before they eventually shut again.

As I continue to rub her cheek lovingly, a long-awaited feeling of calmness sweeps over me as her breaths steady out. The pacifier bobs slightly in her mouth, and finally, her expression falls completely, letting me know she’s asleep once more. My thumb moves up and wipes the last few tears from the corners of her eyes, and I lean my own head back against the pillows, my chin resting down slightly against the top of Willa’s head.

Images from her dream flash briefly before my eyes again. I take in a shaky breath, making a silent promise to the little girl, and to myself. I can’t take away her nightmares. But I sure as hell can be there every time to wake her up. And to hold and comfort and love her. For as long as she needs. Whatever it takes, until she’s okay again.

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#faad #faad: in her dreams #eun's writing #steve rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers series #steve rogers au #steve rogers angst #steve rogers fluff #hurt/comfort #steve rogers x child!oc #dad!steve rogers #the avengers #avengers fanfiction #mcu #mcu fanfiction #captain america #captain america fanfiction

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chdarling · 3 years ago

Note

So one of your most favorite readers (who put me on to your amazing books) just took home the first place ribbon at their first horse show today. As a way of congratulating them, I was wondering if the readers could get a special sneak peek or something! Idk how any of this works I just want to do something nice for them haha.

(Btw I don’t read any fan fic but couldn’t put yours down once I got into it. Truly unlocking parts of my HP love that I didn’t even know were there, so bless you.)

Hi, this is so sweet!! Congrats to your friend!!! I am extremely impressed by people with horse skills. My claim to horse fame is that I fell off a pony once. So.

ahem.

ok in celebration of brilliant horse show victory, let's do a TLE4 scene with some quality blackevans because this scene is a personal fave and it's going to be years before I actually get to share it lmao.

TLE4 Spoilers ahead...

Excerpt from The Last Enemy: Old Magic

“I can’t believe how many people actually showed up,” said James, peering out the window at the throngs of wedding guests milling around the gardens below. “I would’ve thought with everything going on…”

“People are desperate for distraction,” said Sirius. “And what’s more distracting than a society wedding?” He fidgeted with his cravat and muttered a curse under his breath. “I swore I’d never wear one of these again.”

“Aw, but you look so dashing.”

Sirius was spared a response as Marlene McKinnon barged through the door.

“Blimey, Marlene!” spluttered Peter from across the room. “Any one of us could’ve been naked!”

“You’re not.”

“Yeah, but we might’ve been.”

“I’ll thank my lucky stars then,” said Marlene dryly. “Black? I need you.”

Sirius followed her out into the hall. “What’s up?”

“Is James doing okay?”

“Sure.”

“No increased breathing pattern or signs of rising panic?”

“He’s sweating a tad more profusely than usual, but all in all I’d say he’s fine.”

Marlene nodded, satisfied. “Good. I need you to go deal with Lily.”

“Why? What’s wrong?”

“She’s panicking. Not my forte.”

Mrs. Potter had sequestered Lily in a guest room on the other side of Potter House, far from where she might unluckily stumble across her husband-to-be. It was a large house, which allowed Sirius’s mind plenty of time to spin through all the scenarios about which Lily might be panicking as he trekked to the designated bridal suite.

After traversing more corridors than he found reasonable for one house, he reached the room at last and knocked upon the door.

No response.

“Hello?” Sirius cracked open the door. “Is it bad luck for the best man to see the bride before the wedding?”

There was a pause, and then a slightly strained voice replied, “Pretty sure that’s just the groom.”

“Good, ‘cause I’m coming in.”

He pushed through. Lily was standing by the window, likely peering down at the many guests below, just as James had done moments earlier. Sirius opened his mouth to make a joke about this, but he stopped short as he took in her appearance. She was dressed in white wedding robes — which was of course no surprise — but she looked nothing like the brides of the many society weddings he’d been forced to attend during his youth. Her robes were light and fluttery but not fussily so; there was no dramatic bustle or high collar or long, fretful train. Just simple white lace that seemed designed for one purpose: to showcase how lovely she already was.

Lily turned from the window to look at him. Her brilliant red hair fell in loose curls down her shoulders, free from the ornate coifs that were in fashion among Narcissa and her contemporaries. He noticed that Lily had opted not to wear one of the goblin-wrought tiaras Mrs. Potter had no doubt offered up. Instead, a simple flower crown graced her red locks, pale petals in a delicate dance across the curls. She looked, in a word, ethereal.

Sirius had always known that Lily Evans was attractive, in an objective sort of way. He understood, on a scientific level, why James went so gaga whenever she was around, but never before had he been so struck by her beauty.

“Wow,” he said at last. “You look…”

“Nauseous?”

“I was going go with ‘stunning.’”

Lily smoothed a hand self-consciously over her hair. He could tell she was trying hard not to twirl it around her thumb, a nervous habit she’d had for as long as he’d known her. He was reminded of James, always mussing up his hair. He couldn’t help but smile. They really were a perfect pair.

She eyed him suspiciously. “Have you come to make sure I’m not going to run away?”

“Marlene said you were panicking.”

“I am not panicking,” scoffed Lily. “I am reacting in a completely rational manner to the fact that there are nearly two hundred people out there that I don’t even know, just waiting to watch me trip down the aisle.”

“You’re not going to trip.”

“Have you met me?”

Sirius hesitated. “You’re probably not going to trip.”

Lily buried her face in her hands. “Oh, my god. I would’ve been happy with a small wedding, you know? A tiny wedding. Hell, I wanted to elope. But I’m doing this whole spectacle because I know how happy it’s making Mrs. Potter. I get it — she didn’t think she’d get to see her son married, so now she wants the whole shebang, and I’m glad it’s making everyone so happy, I am, but oh my god, Sirius, I’m going to throw up.”

A pause.

“Okay, maybe I am panicking a little.”

“You think? Breathe, Evans.”

“It’s just…what am I doing here? I love James, of course I do, but I feel so out of place. I mean — all these rich pure-bloods wandering about. I don’t know any of these people, and thanks to Petunia, I hardly have any family at my own wedding.”

“What are you talking about?” said Sirius. “‘Course you do. We’re your family. You, me, James, Remus, Peter — even Marlene, Merlin help us. We’re family. Hell, it’s the only family I’ve got. So forget Petunia, forget every one of those pure-blood knobs down there. Just take a deep breath, go marry that messy-haired idiot you’ve been in love with since first year—”

“Have not.”

“—and then we can get down to the crucially important business of partying with your proper family. By which I mean getting drunk with me and the lads, just like old times. Deal?”

Lily laughed, apparently in spite of herself. She nodded, dabbing at her eyes with a bit of lace. A deep, wavering breath. “Okay. Deal.” An exhale. “Thank you, Padfoot.”

“My pleasure, Penny Prefect.” He leaned down and kissed her softly on the forehead. “You’ve got this.”

#ch answers #tle4 #tle4 spoilers #snippets #i have no self control #whatevs it's fine

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donutloverxo · 4 years ago

Note

Mobster Steve always ready to shut anyone up by his excessive pda in front of anyone and everyone .. cries .. a dream

Thanks for the request and sorry it took so long. I'm combining this and another anon who asked for a reader standing up for herself hopefully thats okay. Warnings - daddy kink, mob!Steve, misogyny. Dividers by @whimsicalrogers.

The yelling out 'daddy!' In public but was inspired by @cruelfvkingsummer s sugar daddy!August Walker.

Please note that my stories are not to be stolen or reposted on any other site. Reblogs and welcome and much appreciated. This blog and this story is 18+. Do not read, follow or interact if you are not 18+. Please🙏🙏

*gif is not mine*

"You're gonna have to make a decision someday, cap," Sam chimed in, reminding Steve of the time crunch.

He only hummed in return, having had about enough of working the whole damn week, what's worse was that he couldn't even spend the weekend with you.

His frown quickly softening and turning into a smile when he saw you come out of his car, "Daddy!" you squealed, jumping up and down in excitement as you ran to him and threw your arms around him.

He was taken aback a bit, stumbling back a few steps but he managed to catch you, burying his nose in your hair as you nuzzled your face in the crook of his neck.

"I missed you so so much!" you sighed, finally happy to be with him.

He tried to set you down to your feet, so he could get a good look at your face, but you refused to stop clinging to him,"How was your trip, princess?" he asked rubbing your back, which was exposed since you were wearing a flimsy backless dress, he didn't know how he felt about that.

"Oh my gosh!" you squealed again, standing ok your feet so you could look up at him, "We had so much fun! I bought so many new pretty things, hot some for you and your friends too," you blinked.

He hummed, pulling you into him and crashing his lips over yours, he had missed you, it had been less than a week and yet it felt like months. He was well aware of Sam, Bucky, Peter and his bodyguards eyes on you, some of them had the decency to avert their gaze while Sam and Bucky smiled and stared as if they were proud parents.

You giggled, your cheeks warm and head dizzy from the kiss as he let you go.

"Yeah, what'd you get us, princess?" Bucky teased.

Steve shot him a look, knowing that he was only joking but that pet name was reserved for him, only he got the privilege to call you that.

"Ooh! I got you some magnets to put on your fridge and a nice shirt."

"Alright, princess, let's get going or we'll be late," he urged you. Not ready to share your attention with his friends, not after having you back in his arms after so long, and dreading the party you were both going to.

"Did she give you any trouble?" he asked Peter. He had sent the boy with you and your friends to Milan to protect you and make sure that you stayed out of trouble.

"Uh... no, sir. But..." he hesitated, he thought of you as a big sister and would never want to rat you out or get you in trouble, but his loyalty lied with the mob boss, "She might've maxed out your platinum card..."

"Don't worry about that..." he chuckled and thanked him for taking care of you.

"Daddy," you whined, squirming against his side, you had been acting antsy ever since you got in the limo, pressing kisses to his neck and his collarbone, pulling at the collar of his dress shirt, "I missed you sooo much..."

"I missed you too, baby. But we need to talk," he propped your chin up so he could look into your beautiful eyes, "You'll need to be careful with the card from now on. You can't just blow money away just because we have a lot of it."

"Bu... but," your eyes tearing up and your bottom lip wobbling, "I thought what was yours was mine. You said so yourself..." you sniffled, trying to keep your tears at bay, he had told you that when he asked you to leave your shitty studio apartment and move into his brownstone in Brooklyn, he let you decorate the place however you liked and let you have access to his accounts so you let yourself think that what was his was truly yours. "My mom was right..."

"Right about what?"

"She told me never to move in with a guy until I'm engaged. I'm just like... a kept woman for you..."

"No...no...no, honey," he sighed, stroking your cheek, "It is yours. Everything that is mine is yours. Even my heart," he said putting your hand over his heart, "my soul, it's all yours. More than it is mine really."

"And... I'm just looking for a ring, baby. You know I'd be an idiot not to give you my name and make you my wife. But we need to be cautious, what if we spend all our money and don't have any in case of an emergency?"

"All right, that makes sense. I'm sorry, daddy, I promise I'll be careful."

"I know you will, baby. You're my good girl right?"

"Yes," you nodded, clenching your thighs together.

"Are you wet, honey?" he smiled.

"Yes," you giggled. "Will you fuck me right now, please?" pulling your doe eyes so he absolutely won't be able to resist you.

"Not in a moving car, honey," he said, pulling on your bottom lip with his thumb before pushing it in your warm mouth, "I want to take my time with you. I haven't had my most favorite meal in days, so I'll have to do that first, for at least an hour, and then you are good and show me that you deserve it, I'll let you ride my cock."

His words sent shivers up your spine, you gulped, you were bound to be sore tonight. But there was still the matter of your needy pussy, and you weren't patient like your daddy.

"Can I at least suck daddy's cock then?" you requested.

He chuckled, "You just never take no for an answer do you, baby," as you shook your head. He unzipped his pants, pulling his hardening cock out of his pants.

"I'll mess up your hair," he said as you got down to your knees, between his legs, "I don't mind. I want my cummies," you excitedly wrapped your hand around his length, wrapping your lips around his tip.

He pushed your head down, making you gag, "We have to hurry, baby, we'll be there soon..." he moaned as he threw his head back.

He kept fucking his cock into your face, trying not to mess with your pretty hair which was your done up, your makeup was already ruined though, "Here it comes, baby," he warned you before releasing in your mouth.

You swallowed all of out, so that you could impress him and show him that you were his good girl, and because you were looking forward to the, hopefully huge, diamond he was going to buy you.

You were never a huge fan of parties like these, bored out of your mind, you couldn't even talk to anyone, Sam and Bucky seem to have wandered off somewhere while Steve was too busy making small talk that would literally put you to sleep.

"I'm bored," you told him for the tenth time, you would've even stomped your feet and thrown a full blown tantrum if you weren't aware of everyone's eyes on you, "And my feet hurt from these heels."

"I told you to wear something sensible, doll," he sighed. "Just an hour or so more and then I'll give you a foot massage, okay?"

You only huffed, four inches were more than sensible, you were going to wear the killer eight inch stilletos you bought in Italy with your friends but didn't knowing he'll scold you for it.

"Whatever," you mumbled.

Walking towards a group of women, who looked like they were mob wives and mob mistresses, you could talk to them to kill time.

'She's such a gold digger, I've heard Rogers has a lot of money.' You stopped in your tracks as you heard one of them say.

'You have to be hot to be a gold digger,' another voice snickered.

"Oh shit, I think she heard us..." she whispered as they both looked at you.

"Hello," you gave them a sweet smile, "were you both talking about me?"

"Yeah..." the blonde girl, Stacey you recalled her name was, "It's only the truth," she shrugged. "Nothing wrong with it, go get that money, girl!" She tried to salvage it but the damage was done.

"I think you're mistaken," you said as you propped your hand on your hip, "I'm not a gold digger. I love Steve and I do like how rich he is, but I'd love him even if he didn't have the money. Is it possible that you were projecting your own Insecurities on me? You're the one who wishes your man would leave his wife for you, not me. I'm going to be Mrs Steve Rogers. So you should watch how you speak about me if you know what's good for you."

She was about to quip back but then you felt his arm around you, "Good evening, ladies," he said to the small group of women, "Mind if I steal my fiance for a second?" he asked.

They all stared dumbfounded as he whisked you away.

"Not gonna lie, I would've loved to rescue you and be your knight," he told you as you both walked towards your limo, ready to end the night. "But I'm still so proud of you. You're my sweet strong girl."

"You'll always be my hero, daddy. No matter what."

#berry answers #steve rogers #chris evans x reader #steve x reader #captain america x reader #steve rogers x you #avengers x reader #marvel x reader #chris evans x you #steve rogers x reader #chris evans x y/n #mob!steve rogers x reader

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princecharmingmendes · 3 years ago

Text

Heart by Heart | Chapter X | Raul Mendes

*secret agent AU*

Y/N and Raul have been friends ever since they could remember. And falling in love with your best friend can be pretty tricky and messy 99% of the times, add that to the fact they're constantly risking their lives side by side on the field since they're both secret agents, and the best team that's ever existed. Perfect recipe for disaster.

Hi, this chapter is finally here, it's a bit shorter, but I didn't want to keep you guys waiting for that long anymore and on the cliffhanger, and this was also important for the story development. Anyway, this is the tenth chapter of this series, you can find the first ones here. Please read the warnings on this one, if you don’t feel comfortable with the contents listed on the “warnings” section, please read something else, there are a lot of other works on my masterlist and on the “fic rec” hashtag on my blog. Please give me some feedback and I hope you guys like. Happy Reading!

previous chapter | masterpost | next chapter

*Word Count: 2K+

*Warnings: cursing, violence towards the reader, blood, kidnapping, hostage situation, angst.

Please don’t read it if any of this subjects make you uncomfortable, feel free to check my masterlist for other writings.

*Posted: September 16th, 2021.

-*-

Raul was a mess as soon as he was able to get into an empty room.

He allowed himself to finally let the severity of the situation hit him. He had no idea where Y/N and Tom were, if they were alright or what could Geonoff could possibly win with this. He certainly would’ve tried blackmailing them to get something in return of the two agents he had in his hands.

He’s been pacing back and forth in the tiny room as he tried to remain calm enough to keep his rationality so he could still be helpful. Raul just wanted to punch his way into that base and get the kid and his girl back, but he knew that was completely stupid, even for him. He could practically see the frown on Y/N’s face if she ever heard his brilliant idea, and the vision alone was almost enough to bring him to tears. Instead he shook his head, knowing that letting his feelings take control would only be a waste of time in this situation, and that’s something he learned a long time ago when he first started working with his best friend.

She was a really rational, and maybe even a bit cold on the field. Always with a sharp remark on the tip of her tongue and a thousand of extra plans in case something failed, she could easily slip into the role of the Professor in Money Heist. Constantly analyzing and thinking. And while she was clearly the brain of their duo, Raul was clearly the heart, not thinking twice before jumping head first to save someone or get and intel. And that’s why they worked so well, he pushed her to be more spontaneous while she kept him in his place (and alive) most of the time.

He needed her more than ever right now.

The sound of hushed whispers and two pairs of shoes approaching him, made Raul sharply move in the direction of the door, still on edge, and waiting for it to reveal his visitors. As soon as the handle turned, he was met with his triplet and Celine wearing the same saddened and worried expressions. He might’ve come down to help with the investigation as fast as he learned about his best friend.

Peter sighed taking in the sight of his brother. Raul looked like a lost puppy in distress, eyes on his face but his mind was clearly somewhere else, shoulders sagged and curls a mess from the constant nervous tugging habit he had. One look was enough for him to know he was carrying all the guilt and having no clue how to fix it. It’s the same look he gave his younger self when he accidentally broke his brand knew camera.

“We’re going to find them” was the first thing he said and Raul nodded, looking unconvinced “It’s not your fault” he then added and at that, his gaze finally seemed to snap into place as he stared his brother dead in the eye.

“Whose fault is it then?” his voice sounded a lot smaller and less threatening than he pictured.

“Geonoff’s” Celine mumbled “but not yours, you did what was best, what was right”

Raul shook his head in response, mumbling a quiet ‘yeah, right’ under his breath, but Celine was quick to take three steps closing the distance between them and placing both hands on his shoulders.

“Cut this shit right now” she snapped, catching both him and Peter by surprise “you and I both know I’m not your biggest fan and never truly got what everyone else saw in you, but this past months changed my perspective of things and you’re actually a decent person, a great friend and an amazing agent, and you did the right thing” she said squeezing his shoulder for great measure “and you and I both know Y/N would’ve wanted you to do the same thing, she’d be proud of you”

Raul nodded slowly and Celine let him go at that, as he was still processing her words. Peter finally reached his brother, placing his hand on his shoulder as he turned to face him “I know you’re going through a lot right now, but we need you to help us find her, we need you to hold on a bit and try to think of the places they could possibly take her, everything you heard or saw on the past month is useful”

He nodded again “yeah, okay, I can do that”

“Good, come with me then” Peter said patting his brother’s back “she’ll come back to us, you and I know her enough to know she’s probably making their life a living hell”

Raul snorted a little laugh, that didn’t quite reach his eyes and nodded along, as they dragged him back into the main room. He needed to do what Y/N would in his place, shut his feelings off and analyze every every they took.

-*-

Y/N starts slowing coming back into her senses, feeling her muscles burning, her arms stiff and head hurting, the dark place she was situated doing little to help her regain her memories. She tried looking around to see if she could find something useful to recognize the place, only noticing a slim frame still unconscious close to her. The person had its back to her, but from their clothes and body type, she was able to recognize them as Tommy.

Tommy who was still breathing and almost at arms reach.

That was a good sign, or as good as it could be in this situation. But he was there, breathing and no signs of big blood loss around them, so no external wounds that needed to be taken care of urgently. She tried to reach for him, but the heavy chains attaching her wrists to the cobblestone floor kept her in place.

She tried locating their belongings, or anything that could help them get out of there, but it was all missing. Raul was also nowhere in sight, which probably meant he wasn’t there and probably the info was delivered safely. At least that’s what she hopped with no signs of him around them.

There? Where the hell was there?

That’s when it finally clicked to her, she had no idea where they were or how long was she out. They could be across the ocean as far as she was concerned. She had to get them out of there. But before she could start planning their way out with absolutely nothing and Tommy still out, she heard the grating of the old and rusty hinges coming from the only way in and out of that room, a heavy iron door.

Coming from the source of noise that snatched her attention was the man responsible for all of this. Geonoff Reyes himself. Wearing a button up shirt, with the sleeves rolled back, and a pair of dress pants, and a smug look on his face. He took lazy long strides getting close to her, crouching down in front of her.

Geonoff smirked at her “You know, it’s pretty hard to fool me and you almost got away with it, if it weren’t for your stupid boss you’d be home by now”

Y/N just blinked at him, a completely neutral facial expression on as she stared up at him, making him tsk.

“By the way, how is your little boyfriend? Does he know this relationship is just an act or you manipulate him as well?” he asked and she didn’t even flinch at his statement, noticing that her silence was doing more at getting him upset than clapping back “it must be sad, being such a pathetic agent and letting his little girl and friend get caught as he fled, and in the end discovering this was one sided”

Her gaze shifted quickly to Tommy and then back to Geonoff’s face, that was too close to hers for her taste “don’t worry, he’ll live for now, need him to get you to cooperate” and Y/N felt a little lighter knowing that, taking all the self control she had to not let that show on her face “you know they’ll never find you, right? Thought about sending a little photo as a gift for them, but might do it whenever we move to our next location, better lighting and stuff”

“What do you want?” her voice was hoarse, but she was able to keep her tone steady enough to not seem frightened.

“Oh, sugar, missed that sweet voice of yours, it matches your pretty face, just wish I could see that beautiful smile again, but we’ll get to that” he said patting her cheek with his long fingers, making her insides turn in disgust and she had to swallow the sudden wave of nausea down “I want something simple, just know all the info you’ve been feeding your precious little team for the past weeks, you’re smart enough knowing I wouldn’t mind hurting you to get what I want”

Y/N only stared back at him watching his brow twitch in annoyance “don’t want to hurt your pretty face, so cooperate with me and I might even let you go safely”

But her silent response seemed to be enough for him to loose it, because he took a deep breath before slapping his hand across her face for the first time. The pure shock of the action almost made her react, but she held her face up as she kept staring at him, her face burning but she wouldn’t give him the little taste of a small victory at breaking her neutral mask of indifference.

“This could be so easy” he mumbled slapping the other side a little harder “you didn’t have to do this, you could be free by now” the third one was stronger than she was expecting, making her face turn with the pure force of it, the loud sound coming from the aggression echoing on the empty room and down the large corridor, the echo making her realize there wasn’t much down where they were, mostly just blank empty walls without doors to divide the sound.

“What is it? Anything you’d like to say?” he asked grabbing her chin and yanking her face to look up at him, but her mouth remained closed “well, your choice”

After a few consecutive hits, one being so strong making her face collide with the wall when it turned, and she felt the sticky liquid running down her face. Her skin probably breaking with the brisk contact with the stone wall, cutting her cheek in the process. The seemed to please him, since he let out a loud boisterous laugh, making her lean her head so he could see it better mumbling a quiet “vicious bitch” under his breath “stop fighting back” before going back to it.

After a couple more minutes, her right cheek numb already, Geonoff said grabbing her face roughly in his hands, forcing her to look up at him “Come on, sugar, you’re really stressing me out here”

“I’m truly sorry you had to kidnap and keep two agents hostage to try and prove you’re better than your sister” she said blinking at him monotonously and that seemed to hit a nerve, because Geonoff squeezed her face harder in his palms before pushing her head against the wall.

Y/N felt her limbs giving out as her vision got blurry, her vision going dark before she felt her body leaning to her side and hitting the floor with a dull thud. The sound of shoes hitting against the rocks and the door being shut closed again a sign that the man lost his patience and left them behind. She tried fighting the numbness getting ahold of her body, but ended up succumbing at the end.

The sounds of waves breaking somewhere near them and the constant throbbing of her head dragging her back into unconsciousness.

-*-

*Please reblog or like this post if you liked it so I’ll know.

*I’m sorry if there are any spelling mistakes.

*Please do not repost this without giving me the credit, this is a completely original piece and I do not give permission to copy this!

*Hope you guys enjoyed it!

*xoxo

-🌙

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tomboyneedshercoffee · 5 years ago

Text

Lovedust Pt.6 || Peter Parker x Stark Reader

Summary: Y/N finds out more about how the lovedust works and it leads to her realizing her biggest fears about Peter if he’s cured.

Word Count: 4.2k

Author’s Note: There’s a lot going on right now but thank you guys for being so incredibly kind and patient with me. Shit is going to hit the fan real soon with Lovedust so stay tuned! ALSO Don’t forget to leave comments if you guys liked it or hey even if you hated it! ALSO ALSO My taglist is getting pretty big and hectic so if I missed yours, I am VERY sorry pls just message me again so I can add you asap!

Warnings: Mild language, mentions of death and nightmares, slowburn

part one || part two || part three || part four || part five || part six ||

part seven || part eight || epilogue

As your eyes fluttered open, you gave yourself a minute to adjust to the sound of rain hitting against your bedroom window. You closed your eyes as you inhaled deeply, your arm instinctively reached beside you to touch Peter, only to find that side of the bed empty.

You opened your eyes again and slowly raised yourself up to turn to see that your prediction was correct and that he wasn’t next to you. You knew it wasn’t a dream, you distinctively remembered him holding you as you fell asleep but you guessed he might’ve left soon after.

The memories of last night rushed through your head as you felt your heart drop slightly and already, you felt empty so early in the morning. You remembered everything about the nightmare but more importantly, you remembered Peter cradling you like a child as you cried in his arms.

You couldn’t wrap your head around a single feeling to describe the thoughts in your mind. As every day passed, Peter was showing you more and more how much he truly cared for you, and the thought of him not being able to keep the same energy once he was cured terrified you.

You loved this new Peter and how kind and compassionate he was around you. It was annoying at first dealing with the cringey pick up lines and weird comments about the two of you getting married but now that you realized there was more to those side effects, you found him even more endearing.

It was the small things like how he sacrificed the right side of his body so that you could fit under the umbrella perfectly or how he would willingly sit through a horror movie for you even though you both knew how much he hated them.

You even saw a change in yourself and how you treated him. The other day, you two sat side by side on the couch and shared headphones while listening to the playlist you made for him or when you would tell him a dumb joke just so you could hear him laugh.

It was selfish to hang onto the idea that Peter would always be this kind to you but you rather savored the moments you two had together since you knew better to know that nothing in life was guaranteed.

You felt embarrassed that he had seen you so vulnerable, especially since Peter didn’t know what happened to your parents and now, you felt like you owed him an explanation. You looked back at your clock and sighed once you saw that you had already missed the beginning half of school, you thought screw it, you were taking a mental health day.

“ Is it senior skip day or something?” You looked up to see your dad standing in your doorway with his arms crossed over his chest in a scolding manner but once he saw your dazed expression, he dropped the act,” Y/N? Is everything okay?”

You could feel your throat tighten as you shook your head, refusing to cry again.

“ Nightmare,” You swallowed to stop yourself from letting anymore sobs from coming out of your mouth as Tony sat next to you and put his hand on your shoulder.

“ I know kid, I know,” Tony brought you closer to him as you hugged him tightly.

You had told Tony about your nightmares but he was already well aware on what happened with your parents. You were still pretty young when your parents had passed and you’ve lived most of your life with Tony as a parent but that didn’t mean you weren’t traumatized over what happened years ago.

Tony had not only given you a good home and had locked down your future, but he was always there to listen and offer help, whether it was from himself or health experts.

“ It was Peter this time,” You said softly as you felt your dad hug you even tighter,” I don’t know why but he was in the nightmare and he-he tried to hurt me...I feel so guilty, I don’t know why he was there but my brain just made him you know?”

“ That’s not something you can control Y/N, remember what I said, your brain just picks up on different people-unless he did something. Did he do something to you? Cause I swear-”

“ No, no Dad it was the opposite,” You sighed as you pulled away and bit the inside of your cheek,” I know you told me not to hang out with Peter but...we’ve been getting closer and I think I...I don’t know. All I know was that when he comforted me after my nightmare, I felt the safest I’ve been in a long time….Things are different now. I don’t know what I could say to convince you but please don’t get mad.”

You looked down at your bedsheets to avoid his gaze and you weren’t sure if he was burning a stern glare at the back of your head or not.

“ I’m not mad about Peter, I already knew you were seeing him behind my back anyway and I should’ve known you two would’ve pulled some Romeo and Juliet bullcrap. Anyway- You’re strong enough to look after yourself, hell stronger than some of these people living here and if I may speak candidly, I know you could kick his ass if he ever crossed a line,” Your dad said as you let out a small chuckle,” I want you to be safe and happy. I would prefer you feel that way without a boy in the mix but I won’t yuck your yum.”

You wrinkled your nose but you couldn’t help but smirk,” Do you think I’m strong enough to become an Avenger?”

“ You already are,” Your dad smiled as you inhaled deeply,” but before we get too mushy, I did actually want to talk to you about the other day, you know, about Peter’s health.”

You sat up straighter in your seat as you nodded attentively at him before he continued.

“ It’s really important that you keep this between you, me and Banner, okay? I’m gonna use some big words so keep up,” You nodded again as you felt your heart beat rapidly against your chest,” you already know this but the lovedust activates a huge amount of serotonin in the body and sometimes that can lead to some major health problems. Well, with every day that passes, he runs the risk of having a ventricular tachycardia and that’s what explained how he collapsed the other day-”

“ Hold on, he collapsed? And did you say a ventricular tachycardia? Like a heartattack?” You asked as you felt your own heart stop for a moment as your dad gave you a confused expression,” So you’re telling me the lovedust could kill him? When did this happen?”

Your dad inhaled sharply as he swallowed hard,” Yesterday afternoon. We were done running tests and Banner noticed a car pull up and I said it was your friend John-”

“Josh.”

“ Yeah sure. Then we heard a loud thud and Peter just dropped. He just fainted but still, it’s a sign that things are getting worse,” Your dad said as you felt your heart completely shatter.

You felt like it was all of your fault. Even though Peter just fainted, he could’ve hit his head and died right there and you couldn’t stop yourself from filling your head with more terrible thoughts.

“ Oh my god, I never thought things would get this bad,” You said as you rested your forehead in the palm of your hands, trying to keep a consistent stream of thoughts but each idea made you think of Peter getting hurt,” and there’s still not a cure? What have you guys even figured out so far-it’s been almost a week!”

You knew your dad was trying his best but all you wanted was for Peter to get better and it didn’t help that time was against everyone. Peter could suffer a heartattack at any time of day and it didn’t make you feel better than nothing was being solved.

“ Well we have a pretty strong theory about what caused the lovedust if you’re up for hearing it,” Your dad suggested as you hesitantly nodded.

“ Our main theory is that the lovedust is effective when the patient- Peter- makes contact with the variable-you- and since you were the first person he saw, it activated his serotonin output. So it could’ve been anyone and Peter would’ve had the same reaction,” Tony said and it was so silent for a minute that you could hear a pin drop,” why is your face pale?”

You didn’t know how much you didn’t want to hear that theory until this very moment. You weren’t even sure why you could feel your throat close up again but this news made you sink back onto your bed.

Peter really didn’t mean anything he was saying. After all those late night talks about how in love with you he was, those were all just side effects. Those were never his thoughts. He never really loved you.

“ Oh...that’s good I guess,” You said quietly as Tony’s pager buzzed. You could tell Tony wanted to stay and talk to you but when he looked down at the notification, it seemed pretty urgent,” you can go, I’m just gonna stay here for a little bit.”

“ We’ll talk later, okay kiddo?” Tony patted your knee and walked past your bed, closing your bedroom door behind him.

You stared up at your bedroom ceiling as you thought about what your dad said. Peter’s condition was getting worst but now, at least they figured out something that could help them along the way. If they could figure out the properties of the lovedust than that means they could reverse it and find a cure.

What if you didn’t want them to find a cure?

You almost talked yourself out of your thought and called yourself a selfish idiot in the process, the goal was for them to help Peter. This could help Peter, you reminded yourself as you got up from your bed to get dressed.

You weren’t sure where you wanted to go but you thought that your mental health day could carry on to the outside world.

Mad....why were you mad?

You had no reason to be so upset and you kept reminding yourself as the elevator went down to the garage. You aggressively pressed the button to unlock your car and once you sat down in the driver’s seat, you started your car and backed out of the garage.

It was pouring outside and while you hated driving in the rain, you just had to leave to clear your head.

Why were you upset?

Maybe because for once in your life, you felt special.

You stopped on the brakes and you could feel your heart sink into your chest as the rain hit against your windshield.

You shook your head slowly before you slapped your hands against your steering wheel hard.

Was it awful that you loved the attention you were getting and maybe, just maybe, you were starting to see Peter differently?

You slammed your firsts against the wheel again and again as you let out a frustrated grunt through your gritted teeth.

You were mad that Peter could die. You were mad that there wasn’t a cure. You were mad that the lovedust had ruined your life. You were content without Peter meddling in your life but now that he had left such an impression, all you wanted to do was make sure he stayed as true to himself as he was now.

You couldn’t expect that from him. You couldn’t expect that once he was cured, he would act back to his regular douchebag self but anything was possible, he didn’t owe you anything.

You taunted yourself as you tried to snap out of whatever this hellish tantrum you were throwing.

Why would you be upset over a guy who had fake feelings for you all this time?

It wasn’t his fault and it wasn’t your fault either.

Anyone. It could have been anyone. It could’ve been a sockpuppet and Peter would’ve probably tried marrying the damn thing.

You snapped your head over to the passenger side of the door once you heard a hard tap come from the window. Once you saw it was Peter, you turned to face the front and unlocked the door without looking back at him.

He opened the door and sat down beside you in the passenger seat without saying anything. He was soaking wet from head to toe and while you were annoyed he was getting the inside of your car wet, you had more important things to focus on.

It was too quiet for your liking but there wasn’t anything you wanted to say to him. Frankly, you weren’t sure why you even let him in.

“ How did you sleep?” Peter asked quietly as he tested the waters.

It was clear that you were in some type of mood but Peter never knew how to approach situations like this, especially since he didn’t know why you were so upset.

“ I slept fine, you?”

“ Good I guess,” Peter shrugged as he shifted awkwardly in his seat,” are you okay? Are you upset about what happened last night-”

“ No,” You said truthfully as you leaned your head back against the headrest,” I mean, yes, I’m okay but no I’m not upset about last night.”

“ Well something is clearly bothering you and I just want to help. You know you can tell me anything, I mean it Y/N, we’re friends now. We shouldn’t be hiding things from each other,” Peter said as you let out a dry laugh.

You knew you couldn’t reveal everything to Peter about what your dad had told you but it didn’t stop you from feeling angry.

“ Okay, you want to be honest, lets be honest. When were you going to tell me that you collapsed at the lab?” You asked as you turned your whole body to face him,” my dad told me this morning.”

Peter inhaled deeply but looked you straight in the eye,” I was going to tell you... eventually. It’s not like I had time to really sit down with you, I know you’re going through a lot right now and I didn’t want to stress you out. Besides, I feel fine now, it’s not a big deal.”

It was a big deal, he could die. That’s what you wanted to tell him. His life was at stake and yet you were keeping this big secret from him. It was hypocritical and wrong and if anyone else had told you, you would’ve revealed to Peter about his worsening condition.

But it was your dad who told you to keep things a secret for now and you just had to trust him for both of your sakes.

You looked at him for a moment as you studied his face while he did the same to you. It was as if you both had so much on your mind yet no one wanted to be the first one to detonate the bomb.

“ I’m just so tired Peter. I’m tired of having conflicted feelings on whether or not this lovedust has been creating more problems than solving them… Whatever this is between us, I like it a lot but I hate feeling so pathetic to the point where I actually enjoy the feeling of having a guy give me attention only because of some space shit,” You turned your attention back to the steering wheel,” How do we carry on with our lives once you’re cured? What’s stopping you from being a complete asshole to me like before?”

“ I told you, nothing has to change. No matter what happens, we’ll always be in each other’s lives as friends or something more. I would never treat you the way I did in the past, I swear on my life.”

Peter could feel the energy in the car shift right as he finished speaking but there was nothing he could do to change the course of the conversation. The path had already been set and now, he just had to strap in and hope he could hang on.

“ How am I supposed to believe that? How do I know anything you’re saying is true? Everything this lovedust has been built on is a lie, you don’t love me Peter. It’s a fucking chemical reaction that is messing with your body,” You snapped loudly but Peter hardly flinched,” your mind and body has been corrupted by a parasite. You say you love me but if you take the lovedust away, you don’t. It’s that simple.”

“ Just because it’s a chemical reaction doesn’t mean that the way I’m feeling is a lie. I spend so many nights thinking about you and how happy you make me so for you to say that I don’t actually love you-”

“ Are you listening to yourself? You love me because of the dust, why is that so hard for you to understand? Love is supposed to be natural, this is not natural! If the way you’re feeling isn’t a lie, look me in the eye right now and tell me, did you love me before the lovedust?” You asked as you turned back to face him,” tell me the honest truth, did you love me?”

Peter felt like his body was burning up in the worst possible way and his throat felt dry as he thought carefully. It was so hard for him to see how terrible he was in the past because of the lovedust, all he could think when he saw you was just utter love.

You were visibly hurt, even if you were shouting at him he could read you like a book and there was something that he knew was there but he just couldn’t figure out what it was. It felt like some sort of test that Peter had to decipher; he didn’t have all of the pieces of the puzzle so how was he supposed to get the full picture?

“ I don’t...no. No I didn’t,” Peter said softly as you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding,” but that doesn’t mean I didn’t care about you.”

There it was, the million-dollar answer to the million-dollar question. Of course he didn’t love you, he had tormented you for years. Your dad’s “theory” was right, the lovedust didn’t matter if he had loved you beforehand. It could’ve been anyone.

So even if you might’ve known all along, why did it hurt and why were you upset?

“ Stop lying to me. You never cared about me, you loved humiliating me,” You said in a shaky breath,” you loved seeing me cry and you loved it when I got mad. I could see it all across your face, you loved making me absolutely miserable. So you can say you love me all you want now, but I know the truth. You don’t understand, this lovedust is ruining me, Peter. Do you know how painful it is to be tormented for years and all of a sudden, the same person is now in love with you just like that?”

“ Ruining you? You didn’t touch the damn thing! And you want to talk about pain-Do you know how painful it is to love you?” Peter shouted as he felt his voice crack,” If I’m not near you, I feel like I’m going to die but when I’m around you, my chest feels like it’s going to burst open and it’s painful. I’m in pain right when I wake up in the morning to right before I go to sleep everyday because the mere thought of you drives me insane-”

“ I didn’t ask for you to love me-”

“ I didn’t ask to love you either!” Peter shouted back louder, this time to make sure you would stop interrupting him,” My body feels weak all the time, I’m fucking falling apart because I love you so much. So don’t tell me that I’m lying about loving you because that’s all I feel when I look at you. Even when I’m pissed off I still love you but if you think for one second I’m going to sit here and let you attack me for my past that I have already apologized for, then I don’t want to hear it.”

Peter gave you one last look before getting out of your car and straight into the rain. Peter slammed the car door behind him so hard to where the door completely fell off the hinges but Peter was so angry that he kept walking away.

“ You fucking...ugh!” You screamed as you got out of your car and followed behind him.

You were completely livid, you both were being unfair but just because he was going through a different type of pain than you didn’t mean yours hurt any less.

You shouted after Peter but the rain was so loud to the point where you considered that maybe he just couldn’t hear you. You sped up your pace to the point where you almost slipped against the concrete.

“ You don’t get to tell me that I can’t be mad at the past Peter when it’s only been a week since you got infected!” You yelled as you grabbed Peter’s arm to stop him from walking away from you,” Just because you apologized doesn’t mean I can let it go so easily. For years, you made me feel like I would be alone for the rest of my life because no one would ever love me!”

Peter whipped his head back around to face you as you kept a strong grip around his wrist,“ And I’m telling you now that I love you and I was a fucking idiot for hurting you. Jesus Y/N I am sorry but we’ve had this conversation before so why are you mad at me?”

All you could focus on were his eyes, which were darting back and fourth across your face as if he was pleading with you. You had pushed him across the line so many times but now, Peter was pushing back because he just needed a clear answer.

You both were tired of yelling and fighting and in this moment, Peter was so close to tearing down the walls you had set up for years to keep yourself safe against him. It was eating away at you because deep down, you knew why you were mad at him, you just didn’t know if you could bring yourself to let it slip out of your mouth.

The rain sounded muffled and all you could think about was how cold you were feeling. You were somewhat forcing yourself to focus on anything other than Peter but you were trapped in his desperate gaze.

You felt your breath hitch as you could feel yourself getting choked up,” I’m mad...I’m mad because the way you feel about me right now, it’s fleeting... it’s temporary. One day when you’re cured, you’re going to stop loving me and that terrifies me.”

Peter squeezed your hand and you didn’t even realize that while you were talking, the grip you had around his wrist had moved to interlock your fingers with his. You could feel your chest tighten as you moved your eyes down to your hands and you slowly moved your gaze to meet Peter’s.

“ Why does it terrify you?” Peter asked softly and now it was your turn to plead with him using your eyes as if you were saying please don’t make me say it.

Maybe a part of Peter knew that you wouldn’t admit that maybe, there was something developing between the two of you that you just couldn’t bring yourself to admit. But Peter knew you well and even as he read you like a book, he wanted to hear it for himself.

“ I’m terrified because…” You almost said it as a whisper and even Peter was having a hard time hearing you because his heart was beating so loudly,” because I…”

You swallowed hard as you looked down at his lips and even if it was just for a second, Peter caught you staring. Peter felt his knees weaken and he was seconds away from just pulling you into his arms but it was your move.

Peter had given you all the power and while a part of him felt relieved, it didn’t stop him from reaching up and tucking a strand of wet hair behind your ear. This was the moment he had been waiting for.

He had given you all of the puzzle pieces you needed except he saved the last one just for you. He wanted you to put the last piece in so that way you two could step back together and admire all of the hard work you put into it.

You would’ve. You were going to let him know everything and unravel in his arms because finally, you could let go.

You wanted nothing more than to pick up that stupid puzzle piece and slam it into the puzzle to show him you were serious. You were going to let your walls crumble down and for once, you were going to be fearless.

But you just couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

“ I can’t,” You said softly as you let go of Peter’s hand and practically rushed back towards the building, leaving Peter alone in the rain.

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silence-burns · 4 years ago

Text

Please Hate Me //part 52

Fandom: Marvel

Summary: Based on: “Imagine having a love/hate relationship with Loki.” by @thefandomimagine Who would have thought that babysitting a god could be so much fun?

Genre: slow-burn, enemies to lovers, banter, smut

"We fucked up."

"No, we didn't."

"We had Peter. Now we don't have Peter."

Loki's eyes were completely dark from a spell letting him see through Barbara's, but still he waved toward the completely-not-suspicious building complex in front of you. "But we found him again. That surely counts toward something, right?"

"We lost the alien pin too."

"Which we also found, if memory serves," Loki shrugged, as if the search hadn't taken the two of you the better part of an evening. Who knew searching through half of New York and visiting places it might've been dropped could be so time-consuming?

The weather was pleasant, the air growing warmer as the seasons continued to change. It was one of those days where everything felt brighter, despite how disappointing the reality might be.

"I'm still voting for arson," Loki said, assessing the tall fence surrounding the area. An area which crawled with people trying their hardest not to look like agents of some super-secret government facility, and failing rather miserably.

"You might not have noticed, but buildings nowadays have systems preventing fire from spreading."

"Do these systems work against magic fire too?"

"How am I supposed to know? Do I look like I spit magic fire on a whim?"

"You did last week," Loki muttered. The memory was still fresh.

"Wow, so now I'm the bad guy, and not the sneaky little bastard that ate all the cupcakes I left for-"

Barbara came back, flying on quiet, if a little filthy and decomposed, wings. Loki blinked twice, shedding the spell connecting him to the bird. As much as he didn't mind the heights, Loki had to admit he wasn't a fan of the sharp turns and rather random drops Barbara's flying pattern involved.

Loki pointed to one of the buildings further inside the complex. The red, evening sun hit the countless windows with blinding intensity. "The bird thinks the boy might be there."

You looked at the long stretch of road leading to the complex, like a carpet laid out specifically for you, but the crowds of agents working in the area leading to it made you cringe.

"I still vote arson."

"Why don't we just walk in, though? I mean, it was SHIELD themselves that contacted us, right? It should be okay to just… pay them a visit without sneaking around like… well, like villains. No offense."

Loki frowned. He didn't look convinced. "I like sneaking around, though. It keeps me away from trouble."

"If that’s true, how did you get banned from the Moon twice?"

"Touché. Lead the way then, love."

The way took you down the asphalt road, busy with cars rushing both ways. Despite their past issues, Loki couldn't help feeling a little bad for the agents. For all the grandeur and importance they always described their life to hold, Loki's imagination kept on showing him pictures of ants in their little nests, crawling in their endless, pointless patterns.

The ants seemed to fall into a state of shock rather abruptly after laying their eyes on the two visitors to their nest. Some of them just stood there, looking after the figures marching right to the gates, while others ran in a seemingly random direction.

"That worked out better than I thought," Loki admitted when all the space around you cleared.

Barbara perched on top of the gates, screaming on top of her rotten lungs. The security guards looked at one another and then at the approaching god. Their hands went to their guns. Loki took that as a compliment.

"I know this might surprise you," Loki said, "but we are here to talk. Fetch us your Agent Cauldron, and be quick about it."

"Coulson," you whispered.

"Whatever."

"No matter how many times you ask me, the answer will stay the same - I don't know," Peter groaned.

His back hurt from sitting on the same, incredibly uncomfortable metal chair for hours, and the lights of the small and a little outdated office were starting to make his head throb with an upcoming headache. Or maybe the reason behind it were the endless questions to which he wished he know the answer.

Agent Coulson looked at the photos on the desk between him and the boy. These were nice pictures. If he were more sentimental, he might've put them on a fridge or maybe to the clipboard on the wall to his left. They were definitely worth taking a look at least once a day - it wasn't often one had a chance to look at a god and an ex-assassin, completely drunk, being led by a teenage boy on a spider-thread.

Peter glanced down at them too, and scowled.

"Yeah, well, we've met and hung out together, but I don't know where they are now. Sir, if I knew, do you really think I'd willingly stay behind?"

The agent didn't answer. He moved very little, in fact. Peter was unsure whether it was a part of some special, super-secret interrogation technique, but it was working. To make things even worse, the metal chair he had been given was making sitting still a nightmare.

"That's a fair point, Peter," Coulson nodded, "but do you think I would be pressing you so much if two of the most dangerous people on this planet weren't currently on the run with an alien artifact of unknown origin that might've been recently used to damage our Moon?"

That was a fair point too, Peter had to admit. He might've even grown a little worried after hearing such news, if only it all didn't sound so exciting.

"So you DO know what happened to it, right?" the boy leaned forward, with eyes shining with excitement.

Agent Coulson sighed.

It was a small, almost invisible display of all the emotions boiling inside of him that he'd never show. He knew better, and had far too many years of experience to allow that. Still, the situation was beginning to wear on him, especially if he spared a thought or two to consider what the two people that should absolutely never go off radar, could be up to at this very moment.

Last time Loki visited Earth, he led an alien invasion. Last time Coulson met you before you hesitantly joined forces with the Avengers, you'd already put two bullets in Tony Stark and were on the way to making it three.

Coulson allowed himself a moment to thank his hair for already thinning out or he'd be losing it in a handfuls.

And the worst part was, he actually believed the boy.

He had clearly helped with sneaking you through half the city and into his apartment, but there was no evidence of him helping you out too. Wherever Loki and you were, Coulson was sure he'd hear about it soon enough. He might even let the boy go, and monitor him long enough to see if you'd show up.

The decision wasn't an easy one, but the agent was left with very limited choices. After all, how likely was it that the two of you would just show up?

The phone vibrated on the desk in front of agent Coulson. He picked it up.

He blinked. And simply said, "Yes."

Peter did not like the absent look on the agent's face. He'd seen far too many movies not to recognize the moment the power shifted in the room. Just in time for something bad to happen. It wouldn't be a problem if it stayed on the screen - Ned and him would freeze with the popcorn halfway to their mouths in anticipation of what was to come. But here, in reality, far from the safe spot on a couch, Peter was painfully aware of how much he didn't want to know what was about to happen next.

Unfortunately, whatever powers weaved through the lives of people, deciding their fate and luck, rarely listened to young boys in their judgement. In fact, they listened to old agents even less, but that was something Peter was unlikely to ever find out.

Peter twisted on the chair biting into his backside, and looked back to the thick, metal door. He hadn't realized it when he had been brought inside, but the door looked like it could take a few shots from a gun and remain unscathed.

Peter was not sure what to do with that information.

The door in question decided to finally open and reveal the reason for the sudden tension. It didn't even creak, so the god walked in in complete silence. You followed him, not as quiet, but just as unexpected.

Your face lit up when you noticed the boy. "There you are!"

Peter looked at the agent. The agent looked at Peter.

"I know you're probably not going to believe me, sir, but I swear I had nothing to do with this."

The agent had no doubt that the boy was the least likely person to ever manipulate the god of trickery and lies, or the almost-ex-assasin into anything, but he didn't say a word. He only raised an eyebrow and asked, "To what do we owe the pleasure?", as if there was anything pleasant to be found in the room. But lying was not solely a domain of gods, as all the agents in the world would probably agree.

And Coulson was a very good agent.

"We recently lost a boy, but it looks like he's just been found. Thank you for taking care of him."

"It was a pleasure," the agent smiled. "Although I can't help but worry if you have lost the pin too?"

"We wouldn't dare," Loki lied smoothly with an even more charming smile.

The god of trickery waved his hand and produced a pin seemingly out of thin air. Whether it was only a clever trick or an actual spell was something agent Coulson would never know, but for once he didn't mind. The pin felt heavy and looked just as the files described, but whether it was the real thing would only be revealed once a detailed analysis was completed.

Still, it somehow looked like the deal was fulfilled. Coulson would be lying if he said he'd placed a bet on that outcome.

Peter sprung out of the chair the moment you waved at him to go. The agents and armed officers waiting behind Loki and you on the corridor shifted with unease, their fingers laying on triggers. A small crowd eyed every move made in Coulson's office, which was to be expected - it was not every day a facility such as this one was visited by a god.

Especially one with a rather problematic history of attempted world domination.

"If we may, we'll take our leave now." Loki bowed stiffly.

"And what about the 'favor' you insisted on as payment?"

Something cold and ancient flashed in the god's eyes. "All in due time."

#please hate me #loki x reader #loki x you #loki imagine #loki #loki series #loki marvel #loki laufeyson #loki mcu #marvel loki #loki fanfiction #I Love Loki #loki fanfic #loki (marvel)

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kelieah · 4 years ago

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surprise (peter parker x stark!reader)

summary: you give peter a gift he would have never expected to receive from you

word count: 2.9k

warnings: angst angst angst, fluff, language

edited: sorry this is super late :(

a/n: hehe, happy bday to the cutest puppy of all! thank you to everyone who helped me come up with ideas for this fic, ily all 3000

masterlist

You and Peter have been dating for almost a year now. You both decided to get together after all the chaos that took place in Europe. You two have been friends for quite a while before that, so the fact that your friendship with Peter flourished into something even better is one of the many reasons why you adore him.

His birthday is tomorrow and you wish to make it as special as it can be. Though you’re not exactly sure how to do that. You know your dad would’ve easily bought something tremendously big and written a cheesy yet short letter with it, and Peter would love it. But if you did the same, it wouldn’t be right. Right?

The night before his birthday, you were in a spiral. You had already planned a surprise party for him at his apartment though that was the least of your worries. You were pacing around your room, unsure if the gifts you’ve been preparing for weeks was enough or if you should add more things.

Over the years you’ve been friends with him and the months you’ve been dating him, you put together memories and experiences all in a scrapbook. It looked cute and simple on the outside, but once you opened it up, the pages were filled with photos, letters, doodles, and colors. Many references or inside jokes were scattered along the side margins and stickers were put accordingly. You made sure it was perfect, but your gift still felt incomplete to you.

You wanted to be extra. You had to be extra. You remember your mom saying it was something you got from your dad. That man was always one for his dramatics. So you stayed up a bit later than you should’ve, making tiny little paper stars with sweet compliments, affirmations, and advice in them. Then you made as many as you can to fill up a glass jar shaped like R2-D2.

Though to you, that still wasn’t enough. So you searched and searched and eventually found some vintage Star-Wars comics. Ignoring the fact that they were over a thousand bucks, you bought a dozen or so. His gifts were spread across your bed and you stared at it for what felt like hours.

Is this enough? Is this too much? Will he love it? Will he even like it? Shit.

You remember wanting to sleep and putting it all aside to figure out in the morning. You might’ve forgotten his birthday was the next day with how much you focused on the gifts than the actual date, so you woke up with panic.

You also remembered there was one last thing you wanted to get for Peter but once you glanced at the clock, it was already noon. You overslept.

You feel your heart drop immediately realizing that you weren’t able to text or call Peter a happy birthday or good morning. You assume he must be worried, or hurt or maybe upset? You place your face in your hands and fall into deep thought. Then it hit you, the surprise party is in three hours.

“Morning Friday, read my text messages and voicemails please,” you groggily lean against your bed rest.

“Are you sure, Y/n? You have 243 text messages and 94 voicemails,” Friday informs you.

Your eyes widen and you shake your head, “Uhm, actually just read the ones from Mom, Peter, Aunt May, and Happy please,” you mutter.

“Understood,” Friday responds, beginning to go through your messages and voicemails, “Mom has messaged you, “Morning honey. Had to go to some meetings. Nanny is leaving at 1, please watch Morgan. I’ll meet you at the party. Could you bring Morgan with you when you go?” Peter has not messaged or called you. Aunt May has messaged you, “Hi dear! I’ve already baked up some cherry pies for the party, when are you going to be over to decorate? By the way, Peter went out and is probably patrolling,” with a smiley face and heart. Happy has messaged you, “Hello, I already ordered the catering, and went over the invite list. Are you up yet?” and he also left the voicemail saying, “Hopefully you’re up by the time you get this. Most of the Avengers are coming, except Thor, the Saviors, no wait, the Guardians of whatever they’re called, and Captain Marvel. I’m sure you could figure out why. Give me a call when you’re up.” Done.”

“Shit,” you whine loudly. You throw yourself out of bed and get to your morning routine. You quickly tidy up your room, take a quick shower, go through your skincare routine and get dressed up. You decided to put on some makeup and wear nicer clothes for once given it’s your boyfriend’s birthday.

You look around your room and inhale deeply, “Just that one last thing,” you remind yourself and walk off. After getting what you need, the nanny informs you that she’s leaving. You walk over to Morgan’s room and knock the door before entering, “Hi princess, you ready for Spider-Man’s birthday?”

She turns around, all dressed up in a pretty floral dress, “Hi sissy, yes! Don’t you mean, your friend boy?” she giggles, running up to you.

You roll your eyes playfully, “You mean boyfriend? Yes, c’mon pretty girl. We’re going to go now.”

An hour or so later, you’re making your way over to Aunt May and Peter’s apartment with Morgan in the backseat. You felt bad for not greeting Peter at all today but you decided to make it a part of the surprise. “He still has a tracker in his suit!?” you burst out in laughter as you stop at a red light.

“Seems like Tony didn’t get rid of it before, I don’t blame him,” Happy mutters. “You got everything right? Morgan, Peter’s gifts, the decorations, and your head?”

“Yes Happy,” you glance into your back seat, checking in on Morgan and seeing the piled clutter. “I feel like Santa Clause with a bunch of gifts and an elf in the backseat,” you chuckle. Morgan gasps and makes a silly expression at you that brings a smile to your face.

“Maybe you are with all the cookies you eat,” he jokes.

“You’re one to talk, anyway where’s Peter now?” you ask as you drive off as soon as the light turns green.

“He’s swinging around, I saw the news. He’s interacting with fans and interviewers, a pretty rare case.”

“True, he must be trying to distract himself. Am I the only one who hasn’t greeted him yet?” you ask, nervously biting on your bottom lip.

“Yep.”

“Shoot, well I’m sure he’ll understand.”

“Let’s hope so, I’ll see you and Morgan when you both get here. Gotta help May out with the pies.”

“Sure, the pies,” you tease, causing Happy to roll his eyes and end the call.

You feel your heart stop as Peter suddenly gives you a call. You fight the urge to pick up and shower him in reassurance and love, but ignore for the sake of the surprise.

Ten to twenty minutes later, you and Morgan arrive at May and Peter’s apartment. You smile and knock on the door, struggling to hold everything in your arms while holding Morgan’s hand.

“Hello hello, you two,” Aunt May opens the door with a bright smile on her face. She lets you in and helps you out, “Took you long enough.”

“Sorry, I overslept. I wasn’t sure if my gifts were enough,” you pout and kiss her cheek.

“That’s okay. Morgan baby, Happy’s in the kitchen.” May smiles and ruffles Morgan’s hair. Morgan hums and hugs her leg, running off.

“These are all your gifts for him? Sweetheart, it’s his birthday not Christmas,” she giggles. “I’m sure he would love anything you get for him, even if it was a cheap lego set.”

“I know I know, it’s just Peter has been through so much. I feel like he deserves the world,” you say bashfully.

“You’re so cute,” she hums and helps you place the many gifts on a certain table. “Remember, you have been through a lot too.”

“Yes, but today’s his day,” you cross your arms. “Anyway, enough chatter. We should decorate now, everyone’s coming over in an hour right?”

“Yep. I also told Peter to swing around for a while and bring Thai food home at 4. He thinks it’s just going to be him, Happy and I. I told him you have work,” she says, grabbing some decorations.

“Okay, perfect. I feel so bad, I haven’t communicated with him since last morning,” you huff and grab some streamers.

“I’m sure he understands, kid gets busy too,” Happy walks over from the kitchen with Morgan trailing behind him. “Man, are these all your gifts for him?” he glances over at a table filled with only your gifts.

“Y-Yes? Why is that such a bad thing,” you groan.

“It’s not, I think,” he glances at May who gives him a look. He puts his hands up in defense and slowly walks back into the kitchen.

“You’re fine, honey. Also, I love your dress, isn’t that?” she tilts her head.

“Yeah, it’s the dress I was wearing on our first date,” you smile to yourself, glancing down at your cherry red dress. It fit perfectly, not too loose or tight and it had pockets. Something you and Peter were always amused by.

After the three of you finish decorating, the guests begin to arrive. Most of the team showed up and you and Peter’s close friends. You let out a sigh of relief and lean on the fire escape railing, looking out at the city. You glance at your watch, “Almost time.”

“Hey there,” you hear from behind you. You look back and see Happy.

“Hey.”

“You doing alright? Peter’s coming soon,” he says and walks next to you, leaning against the railing.

“I know, I just feel like. I did too much? Too less? I’m not sure, I just wanted this day to be perfect for him especially after last year,” you mutter and glance at Happy with teary eyes.

He smiles sadly and pulls you into a hug, “It’s absolutely perfect. You know, Peter isn’t going to be the only one who’s proud.”

“Who else? You?”

“Well, besides me and a bunch of other people. Your dad,” he murmurs.

You feel your heart tighten and you stifle a cry, stuffing your head into his chest. He sighs and hugs you close, “Thank you.”

“No, thank you. Sometimes I feel like he never left, because everyday I see him in you,” he pulls away, holding your shoulder.

You smile softly and nod, “T-Thank you, Happy really,” you sniffle.

“Of course. You should probably tidy up, your makeup’s running,” he takes a step back.

You laugh half-heartedly, “Alright. Could you tell everyone to get in their places?” you begin to walk towards the apartment.

“Got it,” he nods and follows you back inside.

Your heart was racing, everyone wasn’t sure if he was going to show up at the front door or his room. Happy gives the signal that he’s arrived and everyone goes silent. You feel a slight sense of relief when you hear noises from the front door. If he came through his room, he probably wouldn't be that surprised.

Peter sighs and holds the bag of Thai food in one hand, opening up the door with a key in the other. His senses have been all over the place today and his heart didn’t feel like it was in the right place. He was beyond worried about you, he didn’t even care that it was his birthday. He just wanted to know if you were okay.

He opens the door, calling out for May. “May, I’m home-”

“Surprise!” Everyone appears out from their spots, greeting Peter with bright smiles and confetti.

Peter instantly jumps and places a hand over his heart. “G-Guys!? Bruce? Scott? Wait, Ned? MJ!?” he stammers, looking all over the place.

“Happy birthday, Spidey,” you come out of your hiding spot, smiling warmly at him.

“Oh my god, Y/n,” he breathes out and rushes over to you, pulling you into a hug. You let out a gasp as he picks you up and spins you around. He places you down and hugs you closer. He pulls away and glances at your dress then at you, “Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” he sighs, kissing your cheek.

You blush at his comment and fiddle with your dress. “Thank you,” you smile, hoping he notices your outfit.

“Wait, isn’t this the dress from our first date?” he holds some of your dress and glances at you. You grin and nod, he sighs happily and pulls you back into a hug.

Everyone reacts sweetly until Flash, who was surprisingly invited yells out, “Get a room!” Everyone instantly glares at him and he shrivels up, smiling sheepishly.

You roll your eyes and Peter ignores him, peppering your face with kisses. “I thought you were mad at me or something, or hurt, or just forgot about me,” he rambles, holding your face.

“Well, luckily none of those are the cases. I just wanted to surprise you,” you hum.

“You planned all this?” he gapes, glancing around his apartment once again.

“Yes, but I had a lot of help,” you hum.

“Friend boy!” Morgan squeals and rushes over, hugging you and Peter’s legs. “Happy birthday,” she beams.

Peter’s eyes soften and his bends down, “Thank you cutie,” he grins.

She squeals and hugs him, “Can you be my friend boy?”

You gasp dramatically, “Morgan, he’s my friend boy.”

“I don’t know babe, Morgan looks amazing in her little princess dress,” he picks up Morgan, holding her close.

You pout and cross your arms. Morgan bubbles happily and wraps her tiny arms around his neck.

To say Peter was overwhelmed with happiness was an understatement. He felt relief, appreciation, love and support. This whole time he was worrying that he had done something wrong when really nothing was wrong and everyone was just hiding and being quiet for his surprise.

After catching up with some of the Avengers and friends and eating dinner all together, it was time for cake and presents.

You couldn’t express how unbelievably happy and emotional you felt for Peter as he stood in front of his cake as everyone sang Happy Birthday to him. His face was filled with pure joy and you wish that could stay on his face forever, because to you, that’s what he deserves and more.

Not much later present time begins and Peter starts to open up everyone’s gifts. You told him to open yours last. You absolutely adored this boy and your heart swelled up every time he held a genuine smile to his face as he opened his gifts. He got up, thanked and hugged every single person who had got him a gift. You truly are smitten for him.

“Who are all these gifts from?” Peter asks, glancing at the huge piles of gifts left. “I thought I had opened everyone’s except Y/n’s already,” he chuckles.

“Those are all mine,” you walk over, sitting next to him.

“Oh, flower,” he mutters softly and pouts out his bottom lip. “You didn’t-”

“Ah, please open them and shut your mouth,” you cross your arms. Everyone laughs in amusement at your sass and watches as Peter begins to open up the gifts.

Peter first opens up the comic books and jars filled with little letters, “Oh my god, you didn’t,” he whimpers happily. “This must’ve cost a fortune,” he holds up the comic books.

“What? All I did was write on little pieces of paper and-”

“Babe.”

“I know! I’m joking, on to the next please,” you coo and kiss his cheek.

He huffs and unravels the next gift, his eyes beginning to glisten with tears. He slowly flips through the pages of the beautiful scrap book you made for him. He comes across a page where it was you, your dad and him in multiple photos. He lets tears slip form his eyes and glances at you with softened eyes, “Y/n,” he mutters.

“Larb you,” you kiss his cheek. He places the scrapbook aside and pulls you into a hug, kissing your forehead.

“I larb you more,” he sighs.

“I thought that was our thing,” May pouts, causing everyone to chuckle at her comment.

“It can be our thing too,” Peter teases. “Is that all?” he sniffles, glancing back at you.

“One more thing,” you smile cheekily.

“Oh man,” he sighs, placing his forehead on your shoulder. “I don’t know if I can take it.”

“Morgan,” you look up, running your hands through Peter’s curls. She grins and grabs the last small box, bringing it to Peter.

He looks up and smiles, silently thanking her. “You want to help me open it?” he asks her. She nods and sits on his lap, helping him pull away the ribbon. As they both do so, the box falls and reveals the gift your mom once gifted your dad, then to you. Peter covers his mouth, “No, I can’t-”

“Peter,” you shake your head.

He sniffs once again, tears beginning to stream down his cheeks as he glances at the glass case with your dad’s arc reactor inside. He glances down at the words surrounding the arc reactor, “Proof that Tony Stark has a Heart,” he sobs.

You glance up seeing that your mom smiles sadly, wiping away some tears. “Happy birthday,” you repeat, kissing his cheek.

“Why are you giving this to me?” he stammers, hugging Morgan back as she hugs him close, nuzzling her head into his neck.

“Mom, Morgan and I already have many parts of dad with us. You don’t have as much and we all know how much he meant to you. You really are a part of our family too Peter, and I felt like you deserved this. Now you can see that his heart also belongs with you,” you smile warmly, cupping his cheek and wiping his tears away.

Everyone watches the heart-touching moment unravel, a sad yet understanding smile appearing on their faces. “I love you. I love all of you, and you,” he pokes Morgan’s nose, causing her to giggle.

“We love you too Peter,” everyone chimes in.

“I love you more,” you whisper, kissing his nose.

“I love you 3000,” Morgan pouts, playing with his shirt. You and Peter look at each other with sad smiles.

“I love you 3000 too.”

tagging some mutuals who might be interested! @ariistotles @cosmicholland @petersholland @tonguetiedholland @theamazingtomholland @tombrina @spideyyeet @toms-gf @peterspideysstuff @chloecreatesfictions @mcdwcman @hollandsrecs @the-salty-asian @fallinfortom @hermayone @allegra-writes @waitimcomingtoo @futuremrspcy @dreamofaprilsblog @t-lostinmendes @musicalkeys @icyhollands @beverlyparkerr @marvelhoesworld

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path-of-my-childhood · 5 years ago

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How Aaron Dessner and Taylor Swift Stripped Down Her Sound on ‘Folklore’

By: Jon Blistein for Rolling Stone Date: July 24th 2020

At the beginning of March, the National’s Aaron Dessner traveled back to the United States from Paris, where he’d been living with his family, to shack up at Sonic Ranch Studio in Tornillo, Texas to work on the next Big Red Machine album with Bon Iver’s Justin Vernon. Those plans - obviously - soon shifted, as the reality of the COVID-19 pandemic set in. Dessner and his family were able to relocate to their home in upstate New York as lockdown orders went into effect, and the musician soon settled into a groove of homeschooling his kids and able to focus fully on music in a way he hadn’t in a while, due to the National’s regularly rigorous touring schedule.

In the middle of what Dessner describes as one of the most productive moments of his career, Taylor Swift called. A longtime and avowed fan of the National, Swift asked if Dessner wanted to try collaborating on a few songs remotely. He said of course, and asked if she was looking for anything in particular. He noted that he had plenty of material at the ready, but acknowledged he’d been in a more experimental mood, due to the Big Red Machine sessions; not to mention, Dessner added, he’d never really ventured into the pop world Swift has dominated for well over a decade. She told him to send everything he had.

“I think she was interested in the emotions that she feels in some of the music that I’ve made,” Dessner tells Rolling Stone.” So I just sent her a folder of things I’d done recently and was excited about. Hours after, she sent back a fully written version of ‘Cardigan.’ It was like a lightning bolt struck the house.”

Over the next few months, Dessner and Swift crafted the bulk of Swift’s eighth studio album, Folklore. Dessner spoke with Rolling Stone about working with Swift, their instant chemistry, how the album developed under a thick cloud of secrecy and more.

When Taylor first reached out, did she have a specific vision in mind for the album? She was a bit cryptic. I didn’t know that we were actually working on a record for quite a while. It just seemed that she was seeking me out to collaborate. And then we were both feeling very inspired by it. Once there were six or seven songs that we had written over a couple of weeks, she said, “Hey can we talk?” Then she said, ‘This is what I’m imagining,’ and started to tell me about the concept of Folklore. Then she mentioned that she’d written some songs at an earlier stage with Jack [Antonoff], and they felt like they really fit together with what we were doing. It was a very inspiring, exhilarating collaborative process that was almost entirely remote. Very sort of warp speed, but also something about it felt like we were going toe-to-toe and in a good pocket.

After “Cardigan,” how did these songs develop and do you think she pushed you in any new directions as a songwriter? When you’re working with someone new, it takes a second to understand their instincts and range. It’s not really conscious. She wrote “Cardigan,” and then “Seven,” then “Peace.” They kind of set a road map, because “Cardigan” was this kind of experimental ballad, the closest thing to a pop song on the record, but it’s not really. It’s this emotional thing, but it has some strange sounds in it. “Seven” is this kind of nostalgic, emotional folk song. Even before she sang to it, I felt this nostalgia, wistful feeling in it, and I think that’s what she gravitated towards. And “Peace,” that just showed me the incredible versatility that she had. That song is just three harmonized bass lines and a pulse. I love to play bass like that - play one line then harmonize another, and another, which is a behavior I stole from Justin Vernon, because he’s done that on other things we’ve done together. And actually, that’s his pulse, he sent me that pulse and said, “Do something with this.” But when she wrote that song, which kind of reminds me of a Joni Mitchell song over a harmonized bassline and a pulse, that was kind of like, “Woah, anything can happen here.” That’s not easy to do.

So, in the morning I would wake up and try to be productive. “Mad Woman” is one I wrote shortly after that, in terms of sound world, felt very related to “Cardigan” and “Seven.” I do have a way of playing piano where it’s very melodic and emotional, but then often it’s great if whoever’s singing doesn’t sing exactly what’s in the piano melody, but maybe it’s connected in some way. There was just some chemistry happening with her and how she was relating to those ideas.

“Epiphany” was something she had an idea for, and then I imagined these glacial, Icelandic sounds with distended chords and this almost classical feeling. That was another one where we wrote it and conceived it together. She just has a very instinctive and sharp musical mind, and she was able to compose so closely to what I was presenting. What I was doing was clicking for her. It was exhilarating for us, and it was surreal - we were shocked by it, to be honest [Laughs]. I think the warmth, humanity and raw energy of her vocals, and her writing on this record, from the very first voice memos - it was all there.

Do you think that chemistry might’ve had something to do with her being a National fan, and you being a fan of her music? We met Taylor at Saturday Night Live in 2014, or whenever that was that we played and Lena Dunham was hosting. We got to meet her, and that was our first brush with a bona fide pop star. But then she came to see us play in Brooklyn last summer and was there in a crazy rainstorm, like torrential downpour, and watched the whole show and stayed for a long time afterwards, talking to me and my brother. She was incredibly charming and humble. That’s the nice thing about her, and a lot of people I’ve met that have that kind of celebrity. It’s great when you can just tune it out and be normal people and chat, and that’s how that felt. So, we knew that she was a big fan, and we really got into the 1989 album. Our Icelandic collaborator, Ragnar Kjartansson, is a crazy Swiftie. So we’ve kind of lived vicariously through him. I’ve always been astonished by how masterful she is in her craft. I’ve always listened to her albums and put them in this rarefied category, like, “How did she do that? How does anybody do that? How do you make ‘Blank Space?’” There was an element that was intimidating at first, where it just took me a second to be like… Not because I think her music is better than what we’ve done, but it’s just a different world.

Were there particular songs, albums or artists the two of you discussed as reference points for this album? “Betty,” which is a song she wrote with William Bowery, she was interested in sort of early Bob Dylan, like Freewheelin’ Bob Dylan, I think. “Epiphany,” early on, felt like some weird Kate Bush-meets-Peter Gabriel thing. I think we talked a little about those things, but not a lot. Actually, I think she really trusted me as far as my instincts to where the music would ultimately go, and also the mixing process. We really wanted to keep her voice as human, and kind of the opposite of plastic, as possible. That was a bit of a battle. Because everything in pop music tends to be very carved out, a smiley face, and as pushed as possible so that it translates to the radio or wherever you hear it. That can also happen with a National song - like if you changed how these things are mixed, they wouldn’t feel like the same song. And she was really trusting and heard it herself. She would make those calls herself, also.

You mentioned William Bowery - who is he? He’s a songwriter, and actually because of social distancing, I’ve never met him. He actually wrote the original idea for “Exile,” and then Taylor took it and ran with it. I don’t actually know to be totally honest.

We’ve been trying to track him down, he doesn’t have much of an internet presence. Yeah, I don’t fully know him, other than he wrote “Betty” and “Exile” with her. But you know she’s a very collaborative person, so it was probably some songwriter.

So it’s not an alias for anyone? No, no, no. I mean, I don’t know - she didn’t tell me there was a “Cardigan” video until literally it came out, and I wrote the song with her [laughs]. So I don’t know. But I’m pretty sure he’s an actual songwriter. She enjoys little mysteries.

With the National, you and your brother write the music, Matt Berninger adds the lyrics, and then you fuse it - was it a similar process on Folklore? Taylor is very collaborative in that sense that, whenever she sent a voice memo, she would send all the lyrics and then ask me what I thought. And sometimes we would debate certain lines, although generally she’s obviously a strong writer. So she would ask me if I liked one line, and she would give me alternate lines and I would give her my opinion. And then when she was actually tracking vocals, I would sometimes suggest things or miss things, but she definitely has a lot of respect for the collaborative process and wants whoever she’s writing with to feel deeply included in that process. It was nice, and was a back and forth, for sure. And she would sometimes have ideas about the production if she didn’t like something, especially. She would, in a tactful way, bring that up. I appreciated that, too, since I wanted to try to turn over every leaf, take risks and sometimes get it wrong. That always takes a second, to get over and then you start again.

You mentioned earlier that once you had six, seven songs, she was able to describe a concept behind the album. I’m curious what that conversation was like. She would always explain what each song was about to me, even before she articulated the Folklore concept. And I could tell early on that they were these narrative songs, often told from a different… not in the first person. So there are different characters in the songs that appear in others. You may have a character in “Betty” that’s also related to one in “Cardigan,” for example. And I think that was, in her mind, very, very important. It doesn’t seem like, for this record at least, that she was inspired to write something until she really knew what it was about. And I think I’m used to a more - at least lately - impressionistic and experimental world of making stuff without really knowing what it is. But this was more direct, in that sense. That was really helpful, to know what it was about and it would guide some of the choices we were making.

Every time she would send something, she would narrate a little bit, like how it fit, or what it was about. And then when she told me about Folklore as a concept, it made so much sense. Like “The Last Great American Dynasty,” for example, this kind of narrative song that then becomes personal at the end - it flips and she enters the song. These are kind of these folkloric, almost mythical tales that are woven in of childhood, lost love, and different sentiments across the record. It was binding it all together and I think it’s personal, but also through the guise of other people, friends and loved ones.

You were working in secret - how did that affect the process? Was that a difficult burden? It was. I was humbled and honored and grateful for the opportunity and for the crazy sort of alchemy we were having. But it was hard not to be able to talk openly with my usual collaborators, even my brother at first. I didn’t know if I could really tell him, because we normally… Ultimately, he helped me quite a bit, he orchestrated songs. But we always help each other. But eventually, we figured out how to do it. Towards the end of the process, I said to Taylor, ‘I really feel that I need to try a few experiment and try to elevate a few moments on the record because we have time, and we’ve really done a ton of work here, and it all sounds great, but I think we can go even further.’ And then she said, ‘Well what does that mean?’ And I explained how that would work, and the way that we work. Our process is very community-oriented, and we have long-time collaborators that we have a good understanding with. So I was able to say, to my friends, ‘This is a song I’m working on, I can’t send it to you with the vocals, and I can’t tell you what it is, but I can explain what I’m imagining.’ And the same with my brother, he knows my music so well that that was very easy for him to just take things that we were working on, add to that, and do his kind of work. So it was all remote and everyone was in their corner and we were shipping things around. It was incredibly fast because of that, because you didn’t have eight people needing to come to the studio. You had eight people working simultaneously - one in France and one in L.A. and one in Brooklyn. This is how it went, and it was fun. We got there.

When were you able to tell everyone who contributed that this was the Taylor Swift record, what was their reaction? You can imagine. I think they realized it was something big because [of] the confidentiality, and they were like, ‘It could only be a few things.’ I couldn’t tell them until, basically, when she announced it. Just in the moments after she announced it, I basically told everyone. I was like, ‘By the way…’ And they were thrilled. Everyone’s thrilled. Nobody seemed mad, everyone was thrilled and honored. Even Justin Vernon had not heard anything else except “Exile,” even though the pulse of that song “Peace,” he gave that song to me. It was important to have it be a surprise, and you know how it can be with someone in her position, with all the speculation, and she’s always under a lot of pressure like that. So it was really important to the creative freedom she was feeling that this remained a secret, so she could just do what we were doing.

Being such longtime friends and collaborators with Justin, what was it like hearing “Exile” for the first time? His voice and Taylor’s together? He’s so versatile and has such a crazy range, and puts so much emotion… Every time he sings when I’m in his presence, my head just kind of hits the back of the wall. That’s the same on this song. William Bowery and Taylor wrote that song together, got it to a certain point, then I sort of interpreted it and developed a recording of it, and then Taylor tracked both the male and female parts. And then we sent it to Justin and he re-did obviously the male parts and changed a few things and also added his own: He wrote the “step right out” part of the bridge, and Taylor re-sang to that. You feel like, in a weird way, you’re watching two of the greatest songwriters and vocalists of our generation collaborating. I was facilitating it and making it happen, and playing all the music. But it was definitely a “Wow.” I was just a fan at that point, seeing it happen.

Are there any moments that really stick out to you as particularly pivotal in shaping the sound of this record? The initial response. When we first connected, and I sent a folder of music and Taylor wrote “Cardigan,” and she said, “This is abnormal. Why do you have all these songs that are so emotional and so moving to me? This feels fated.” And then she just dove into it and embraced this emotional current. And I hope that’s what people take out of it: The humanity in her writing and melodies. It’s a different side to her. She could have been every bit as successful just making these kinds of songs, but it’s so great that she’s also made everything that she’s ever made, and this is a really interesting shift, and an emotional one. It also opens other doors, because now it’s kind of like she can go wherever she wants, creatively. The pressure to make a certain kind of… bop - or whatever you want to call it - is not there really anymore. And I think that’s really liberating, and I hope her fans and the world are excited by that because I am. It’s really special.

#Aaron Dessner #interview #about taylor #taylor swift #Rolling Stone magazine #folklore album #folklore era #songwriter #coronavirus #release week

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wannabe-fic-writer · 4 years ago

Text

Natasha Romanoff x Reader : Prove Me Wrong

Summary: She can trust you, even if she doesn’t know it yet.

Warning: 18+ Mental Health, Mentions of Death, Mentions of Violence, Smut

Chapter 2

******

Coffee. You use to drink it every morning but that became a bad combination with the wave of emotions you took on. In which you switched to tea. It doesn’t have the exact same effect as the coffee did but it worked perfectly in it’s own way.

Pouring the hot water on the teabag causes a swirl of transparent brown to fill the mug. The steam that rises warms your hand and you release a sigh.

Being distracted means you get startled when dishes start clattering behind you. You jump, spinning around to see who came into the kitchen without you noticing. Only to instantly relax when you see Steve and Rhodey.

“Hey guys.” You smile and wave.

Both men give you a smile and say good morning.

A small conversation breaks out about some threat over in San Diego. Not knowing anything about it, and it being none of your business, you just fix your tea and a bagel while they chat. And when they’re done Steve is more than willing to get his session started.

Your last session with the man ended with him heartbreakingly sad. The topic of Peggy arising and being addressed.

He’d admitted to you that he considered going back. After Thanos, when he had the stones, he considered staying in the past to be with her.

When you asked why he didn’t, he told you a number of things. Two important ones making the decision for him. One, when he found her, she was on a date with a man who would later become her husband. And two, despite his regrets over the past, he had things waiting for him in the future/present.

He had built friendships with Tony, Natasha, and Sam. And he had Bucky, his best friend since the beginning of time, or at least Steve’s time.

During this session you ask him how it felt to move on, not just from his second chance with Peggy but even before that, when he woke up from being frozen.

He’d started to tell you how hard it was and how he still doesn’t think he has. But he’s interrupted when his phone rings.

Much to your dismays, he has a mission he’s been called on and has to leave.

Before he walks out you stop him,“ you want some happy?” You seriously ask with a joking smile.

That’s how you’d described your powers to him, after he didn’t get the broader description the second time. You told him that you could take away his hurt and pain and give him happy.

Steve shakes his head,“ I’m good actually. Thanks though.”

Usually, with the busy schedules and occupied minds of the team, you have to go in search for your next patient. With Bucky you don’t. In fact you find him waiting just down the hall when you step outside your office.

Even though he wasn’t eager to be sharing his memories and feelings with you, he always made it a point to show up. You appreciated it.

You wave him over and he’s quick to walk down the hall. Bucky steps in behind you and sits on the couch as you shut the door. Despite the comfortability of the furniture he sits up straight, hands rubbing his knees.

When he glances up at you, you smile comfortingly. You sit in your chair, crossing your ankles as you hold on to your fresh cup of tea.

Like always, the super soldier remains nervously silent. It was a few sessions ago that you came to understand why. He isn’t nervous because of you, it’s the idea that he should know what he’s feeling and felt.

The man hasn’t processed an emotion properly in decades only to just recently be introduced to the concept of explaining his emotions. Plus the added anxiety of letting it all in.

Knowing he won’t be the first to speak you ask him,“ you want anything to eat or drink?”

He’s quick to shake his head. Then looks directly in your eyes, for the first time today,“ do you, um, have any cracker jacks?”

“I do actually, they’re in the cabinet to the left of the mini fridge.”

After he’s gotten two boxes, he turns away, before grabbing a bottle of water and then going to sit.

If it weren’t for Steve you wouldn’t have had any. The man said it reminded him of the “good old days,” getting cracker jacks when he went to see baseball games. Steve usually eats his with a Coke.

“Me and Steve use to buy a bunch of these and sneak them into baseball games. They were always cheaper at stores than the stadium.”

A fond, nostalgic, smirk plays on his lips and you smile as well.

“Are you also a Dodgers fan? Steve spent our whole first session talking about them.”

When he chuckles you feel good about yourself and focus on his answer.

He nods,“ yeah, I like the Dodgers, but I think the Cubs are better. I used to like the Yankees simply out of loyalty to New York.”

“Do you not like the Yankees anymore?”

A sigh falls from his lips,“ no. They’re not the same. Then again, nothing else is either.” Before you can ask anything else he continues.“ I didn’t really know how to feel about missing decades of time. For a while I just pushed it aside, especially since I didn’t remember anything.”

His long pause makes you a little anxious. He’d started to open up without much from you and you didn’t want that to stop, you couldn’t help if he chose not to continue.

You ask,“ what changed?”

“Steve.” It’s a quick answer. Obviously he’s given this particular topic some thought.“ After my memories started to come back I realized I wasn’t alone in being so out of place. Steve missed just as much time as me and after I got better, after Thanos, it was nice to have someone to remember with.”

Throughout the session you let him do most of the talking. Every so often he starts to shut down so you prompt him with an easy to answer question that seems to guide him into opening up even further.

By the time it ends, you’re incredibly happy with the progress. Seeing Bucky’s troubled and stressed expression drives you to asking him if he’d like you to take it away.

He was hesitant at first, you know it’s because of his experience with mind altering tricks. You assure him that it’s nothing like that. You don’t take his memories or thoughts away, essentially you pull everything he has to be happy about to the forefront.

Your powers aren’t permanent on anyone but it helps.

The man accepts and while he doesn’t leave with a bubbly smile on his face like Peter does, you can see that his eyes are lighter.

“Thanks for the chat Doc.” He smirks playfully when he mentions your title.“ And thanks for being patient with me.”

You shrug,“ thanks for letting me.”

After he’s left, you sit back down and finish off your tea.

According to you schedule, your next patient should be Natasha, but that hasn’t been a thing for months.

You can’t help but wonder if it was something you’d done that made her not want to even try. Thinking about it, you’d done nothing but be kind to the woman, offering your help at first but then just telling her you would only listen if that’s what she wanted. Each attempt at reaching out failed miserably with the woman’s emotionless denial.

One long glance at her name written in your notebook lit something in you and you knew you couldn’t just give up on her.

******

Natasha moves her body effortlessly.

She uses attack combinations and take down moves that at, one point she thought was too hard to execute, without even thinking.

Which is good. If she, even for a second, allowed too many of her thoughts to break through she’d never stop. She’d become distracted and give her opponent too big a shot to take her down.

If she focuses on anything but doing these moves perfectly she’d fail and she can’t have that.

Yet another groan from the person underneath her causes a smirk to form on her lips.

“Jesus Nat, we’re sparring you’re not trying to kill me.”

She lets his wrist go and rolls off his back before offering him a hand.“ I think your retirement is setting in Barton.” She teases.

Rolling his eyes, he rubs his wrist,“ what? I’m in the best shape of my life.” The man mockingly pulls a karate pose.

Natasha laughs, making Clint smile widely.

With him knowing her so well, it’s good to see the woman happy. Still he hears the heaviness in the laugh and knows that there may always be something holding her back from being genuinely, completely happy.

Part of him wonders if talking about everything would help her. He knows it helps him and he doesn’t miss the light air that’s seemed to encompass his other teammates lately.

Clint formed a greater appreciation for you over that fact. It was about time the team took a shot at healing themselves instead of ignoring their issues to fix the world’s.

He wasn’t pleased, and still isn’t, to see his best friend so opposed to the help. Natasha is strong but she’s still human and holding everything in the way she does isn’t healthy.

“Alright,” with yet another groan, he steps off the mats,“ I need to get home or I won’t have a good spot for movie night.”

He salutes to Natasha’s wave, figuring the woman is going to be in the gym for a while.

The door almost slams into him with the force that it’s thrown open. Stepping back, he just barely avoids getting hurt.

You stand on the other side, your determined expression slipping to one of shock when you realized you might’ve hit him.

“I’m so sorry I didn’t know you were right there, are you okay?” You rush out.

Chuckling, he nods,“ all good, didn’t even graze me. What’s got you in such a rush?”

As if remembering why you’re there, you go back to being determined.“ Is Miss Romanoff in here?”

“Uh, yeah, she’s over on the mats.”

Nodding with a smile, you march past him further into the gym.

Clint presses himself against the wall with every intent to listen in, whether Natasha knows he’s there or not.

The woman is already looking at you when you step into view, trained eyes watching your every move as you approach. An eyebrow quirking in question when you stop at the edge of the mats.

“You didn’t show to our session Miss Romanoff.”

She’d never heard someone’s tone be equally as warm as it is accusatory.

She makes no effort to reply.

Moving forward, you step on to the mat, her eyes flickering to your shoe covered feet, then back up to your eyes to see how close you are now. Far enough away to not be overstepping any boundaries but close enough for her to see the fire in your eyes.

Admittedly Natasha is fascinated with seeing the emotion in your eyes. Ever since you got here she’d seen nothing but your perky, optimistic, “everything is going to be alright” attitude. Like this, she feels as though she’s seeing a new, slightly intriguing side to you.

“I know exactly what game you’re playing Natasha,” the way you say her name nearly makes her shiver. She’s not intimidated, but she could be.“ I’m sure you sized me up and categorized me as a certain type of person the second I got here but I can tell you now you were wrong.”

Her head tilts in the slightest, amusement flickering through her eyes.

You continue,“ I am not going to accept you giving up on yourself.” That right there erases the amusement. Her expression hardens.“ I don’t know anything about you but the fact that you actively avoiding coming to see me is very telling.”

For the first time, since maybe your third day here, Natasha speaks to you. And you’d be lying if you said her voice isn’t as sexy as it is scary.

“Whatever you think you’ve figured out, you haven’t. And this power move that you’re trying to pull isn’t going to work.” Despite her control over her words you feel the emotions pouring from her statement.

The agitation radiates off her and sets your powers alight, almost enough to make you back off. Until you feel it. The smallest, microscopic, bit of fear. It’s buried behind her annoyance with you, and a mountain of other things, but you feel it.

“This isn’t a power move Miss Romanoff. This is me letting you know I’m not giving up on you. I don’t know what it’ll take to get you to come to your sessions but I’m going to try everything I can until it happens.” She’s glaring now but that fear hasn’t left.“ Tony gave me your very detailed file,” she stiffens,“ but I didn’t read it.” Que her surprise.

Her frown this time is a mix of curiosity and annoyance.

“When you come to see me I want you to be comfortable. I don’t want you to think I see you as whoever is on those papers. You will simply be Natasha Romanoff and I will accept whatever you’re willing to give.” You smile softly at the woman and step away.“ I’ll schedule you to come see me on Friday’s, that day is free for me so I will have more than enough time to chat. And you can try avoiding but I will come find you.”

Not leaving even an inch of room to argue, you turn and leave, giving Clint a little goodbye on the way.

It’s quiet for a moment. Natasha and Clint both processing what just happened. Clint gets it first and steps around the corner to look at his best friend.

“I didn’t want to push you into seeing her but after that,” he puffs out some air,“ I think it would be really good for you to go see her. She obviously cares, if that whole thing was to go based off of. She just wants to help, at least let her try.”

With one final smile, he leaves.

Standing on the mats, Natasha thinks.

You were right. She did categorize you as the type of person who would just accept that she wasn’t coming. And if what you just did was any evidence, she was wrong.

******

taglist: @username23345 @muffliat-o @nat-km-mh

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow #black widow x reader #marvel #marvel x reader #mcu #mcu x reader #prove me wrong #reader insert

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hailing-stars · 4 years ago

Text

@febuwhump day 17: field surgery

relaxation is overrated summary

“What’s wrong, Parker?”

“So I have news,” he tells him.

Tony immediately closes his eyes and braces himself. It’s never a good sign when the boy starts stalling. “Spit it out.”

“I have a bullet in my leg.”

“What?”

“Just a small one!”

“All bullets are small.”

“That’s true, Mr. Stark, but I don’t know, compared to the others, this one sort of feels like small fries, you know?”

Peter takes a bullet to the leg, and Tony is a Stressed Dad.

“Hey, Mr. Stark, how are you?”

Peter’s voice on the other end of the phone is muffled, broken, and it brings a spike in Tony’s always present anxiety. He holds his cellphone in one hand, while he continues to pour himself a scotch with the other.

It’s eleven in the fucking evening, so he isn’t ready to give up on his plans to relax just yet, despite all the obvious signs screaming that his doom is unavoidable. Now that Peter’s on the line, he doubts any real relaxing will take place.

“What’s wrong, Parker?”

“So I have news,” he tells him.

Tony immediately closes his eyes and braces himself. It’s never a good sign when the boy starts stalling. “Spit it out.”

“I have a bullet in my leg.”

“What?”

“Just a small one!”

“All bullets are small.”

“That’s true, Mr. Stark, but I don’t know, compared to the others, this one sort of feels like small fries, you know?”

“The others?” questions Tony.

“When you’re Spider-Man you make a lot of enemies. People like shooting at you and all that. It’s just I’ve never been very good at dodgeball.”

Tony inhales, holds, then releases, in some futile attempt to calm his pulse. It doesn’t work.

His heart continues to rampage around in his chest without any sign of ceasing. He can’t work out which is worse, the imagine of Peter lying in an alley with a bullet in his leg, or that he’d just referred to being shot at as playing a gym class sport.

“Can you come, ummm, help me out?”

As if Peter even needs to ask.

Tony’s already pouring his glass of scotch down the kitchen sink, and ordering FRIDAY to send him Peter’s location.

“I’ll be there in a jiffy,” says Tony.

He hangs up, pockets his phone, and steps out onto his balcony. Armor flies towards him. Cloaks him with power. And he’s blasting off into night, ready to go out and rescue his dumbass child.

Tony finds Peter in a dark alley. His back is up against a building, and he’s playing some game on his phone, as if he’s a bored child waiting at the doctor’s office instead of Spider-Man with a gunshot wound. Peter, at least, puts the phone away into his spidey suit when Tony lands.

“Kid,” says Tony. His face mask disappears and he eyes the blood pouring out his leg. “That’s a lot of blood.”

Peter shrugs. “Oh, I’ve had worse.”

“Please do not say that,” says Tony. “If you want me and your aunt to continue letting you play cops and robbers with street riff-raff, please do not tell me anything more than I need to know.”

“Fine, fine,” says Peter. “Just get this bullet out of me so I can continue my patrol.”

“I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“That’s why you showed up?” asks Peter. Painfully serious. “Remove the bullet and I’ll be on my way.”

“Oh yeah,” says Tony. “Let me just grab my medic bag and my bullet removers.”

Peter looks up at him. The black eyes stitched into the spidey mask are comically wide, and if it was any other situation, Tony might’ve laughed. Or at least privately thought of it as cute.

“What about me made you think I would be willing to dig around in your leg with tweezers searching for a very small bullet?”

“Dunno,” says Peter. “Field surgery doesn’t seem that difficult, you know, for a genius? And I don’t really want to go to Medbay.”

Tony doesn’t believe what he’s hearing, but it gets worse as Peter continues to ramble with no sign of slowing down any time soon.

“There’s a drug store down the road, you could just go there and buy some rubbing alcohol and some -”

“-kid-”

“-what’s the big deal? I do it all -”

“-Do not keep talking, hear me? Stop talking right now!” says Tony, beyond stressed.

He starts his breathing exercises. He closes his eyes.

“Mr. Stark, are you okay?” asks Peter. “What are you doing?”

“I’m trying to block this conversation from my memory,” he tells him. “It’s the only way I’ll ever get any rest.”

It’s a miracle, but the boy stops talking long enough for Tony to calm himself down.

“Okay,” says Tony. “Let’s go.”

Peter lets out a pitiful groan.

“Hey, it’s either a piggy back ride to the Tower’s med center, or bleeding out in a dark alley, your choice.”

“Fine,” says Peter, allowing Tony to help him up, then clinging to his back. “But we’re never speaking about this again.”

“Oh,” says Tony. “We’re in total agreement there.”

They retrieve the bullet from Peter’s leg, and they bandage it up real good. Peter’s got it propped up in a sling when Tony returns to his medbay room. He stops. Stares at it, and hits Peter with a look.

“And you wanted me to do it.”

Peter’s grins ruefully. “Just didn’t want to spend the night in the hospital. All high on pain meds.”

“Didn’t see you refusing them,” says Tony, plopping down in the bedside armchair.

“Yeah, well,” says Peter. “Suppose it is better than being all dead zombielike in some alley.”

Tony has the perfect opportunity to gloat right there, in that moment, and yet he lets it sail by. I-told-you-so’s are for weaker men. Or maybe it’s the opposite. Tony doesn’t exactly have it figured out.

Just knows now that Peter’s got his mask off, and his tragically young eyes peer back at him, Tony isn’t capable of being anything less than kind and compassionate. There’s not even room for sarcastic banter when Peter’s looking so young, and vulnerable, and a little bit high on those pain meds he hadn’t really wanted at first.

“Thanks for coming to get me, Mr. Stark,” says Peter. “And, umm, sorry for almost giving you heart palpitations and all. I know I’m kind of annoying sometimes.”

“Don’t worry about it, Pete,” says Tony. “The palpitations are worth it.”

Peter laughs, suddenly and loud. “Palpitations is a fun word. Like Emperor Palpitations… no wait.” He shakes his head. “That’s not his name… what’s his name? On Star Wars… whatever. Should’ve named him palpitations.”

“They must really have you on the strong stuff,” says Tony, with a chuckle, “if you’re forgetting your Star Wars facts.”

“Does that make me a fake fan?” His voice is so serious and scared, as if he really believes somehow he’s about to be banned from the Star Wars fandom forever.

“No,” says Tony. “Nobody who spends three hours putting together a Lego Death Star is a fake fan.”

“Oh,” says Peter. Relief washes across his face. “Good.”

Tony chuckles. “I think maybe you should sleep it off, kid.”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s good, sleep is really good,” says Peter. He pulls the blanket up to his chin, and looks at Tony, glossy eyed, that is, until both his eyes drift shut. “You’ll stay with me?”

“Yeah, kid, of course.”

Peter doesn’t say anything else and Tony can tell it’s because he’s already nodded off into dream town. With a sigh, Tony props his feet up on Peter’s bed. He guesses relaxation is overrated, anyway.

#febuwhumpday17 #irondad #irondad fic #my fic #Peter and tony #Peter Parker gets shot

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