#suit here but i could always change some things around for my reply if you'd prefer for him to be dressed in civilian clothes! though for-

[mad-hunts]

@ofgctham sent🔪 to walk in on my muse standing over a dead body (for bruce).

betrayal is one of the worst things to have to deal with, barton decided, as he sat with his back flush against one of the cold bathroom walls. it tears you up inside — squeezes your heart in a vice-like grip in a way that makes it seem like it's never going to let it go, and that you were stupid to have trusted anyone at all. barton would know because that is exactly how he felt right now sitting next to violet. he thought that they were friends, for they'd known each other almost a year now. but it was kind of funny how quickly their relationship was destroyed at the first sign that barton wasn't all that he seemed; violet turning into something of a cornered animal, willing to do anything to get out of a situation when she got a text message from someone she used to know. and this was only to find out that barton was hurting them for her.

barton tried to explain it to violet in a way that made sense to him. but of course, she didn't get that he deserved to die for what he did to her. violet was actually scared of the concept. of him, and whenever barton looked into her eyes then, all of the affection she'd felt for him was gone just like that. so much for being the most 'perfect, understanding friend,' as violet almost immediately declared that he needed help and she was going to call the police. needless to say, after hearing that, barton wasn't too pleased. from there, things just continued to escalate. one moment barton was telling violet that he didn't want to hurt her and the next he was trying to plunge a screwdriver he found through her gut. though that same screwdriver was wrenched out of his hands by her and in desperation, violet sunk it into his side whenever barton had taken to choking her out.

and that hurt like hell. she took off from there into the communal bathrooms of the dingy motel they were in to try to hide from him; but barton had found violet despite him leaving a very visible blood trail everywhere he stepped. he killed her by smashing her head into one of the sinks in a rage, it seemed, which he partially remembered and partially didn't. barton's eyes looked like just a bunch of veins with how bloodshot they were from crying while he bit down on his sleeve to keep himself from screaming out due to the pain of pulling out the screwdriver. if someone didn't at least report the blood they'd seen on the pavement out there leading to the bathroom, it'd be a damn miracle. but barton didn't even care if he got caught right now.

it really was a bad idea to take out that screwdriver, for he couldn't even stand now without his legs feeling like jelly and collapsing in on him. but he was able to do it while hanging onto the same bloody sink he'd used to kill violet. her body was right below him, and all barton could think of while looking at her was, why did things always turn out so badly for him? (maybe it was because he deserved it.) he could hear someone's heavy footsteps rush into the bathroom then. and with a weak chuckle, barton turned to face him. the batman. ❝ you're late. she's already gone. ❞ his knuckles turned white with how firmly he was gripping the sink to hold himself up.

❝ i liked her a lot, you know. she was my friend. but something happened, and i just... lost control. ❞ barton cleared his throat while tremors racked his body. looking down at her now made him suddenly feel very hot, probably from all of the adrenaline running through him, ❝ god's, i can't believe i killed her. ❞

[fatecantstopme]

Lustful Agony

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x plus size!reader

Summary: It's sex pollen, aka my favorite trope.

Warnings: cursing, use of pet names, an insane amount of smut, dubcon (cuz sex pollen), unprotected sex (p in v), oral (F receiving), masturbation (F).

"Would you please be careful?" you snapped.

Your partner froze and offered you a sheepish smile. "Sorry, doc. I wasn't paying attention."

"I noticed," you huffed. "There are any number of things in here that could kill us, so tread lightly."

"Maybe I should wait here."

You glanced in his direction and nodded. "You know what? Good idea. Stay there and don't touch anything."

You continued on through the dusty lab, hoping to find at least one working computer, but after 20 minutes, it seemed hopeless. Every computer had been destroyed and most of the paper files had been shredded or burned. All that remained was hundreds of glass vials filled with various liquids and gases that did gods-only-knew what.

"I'm starting to think this might be a burn and run," you called back to Bucky--still standing where you'd left him on the other side of the lab.

"If we blow this place, is there gonna be a toxic cloud?"

You shot an annoyed look in his direction. "I said 'burn', James, not 'blow'. We're not blowing up a lab filled with unknown chemicals and biological agents."

"Right, yeah." He looked at the ground, feeling slightly embarrassed. He always seemed to make a fool of himself in front of you and he hated it. He never wanted to be the fool, especially around you.

Your well-trained eyes scanned the room again before falling on a secured biological containment chamber. You knew that would be the best option for storing items for burning. All you'd need to do was get all the bio vials into the chamber and light it up.

You crossed the room to the chamber, feeling Bucky's eyes following you. He hated being in a position where he felt like he couldn't protect you, but he was out of his element here. As the resident hazardous materials expert, this was your area of brilliance.

You grumbled in annoyance when you noticed the lock on the containment chamber was activated. You were familiar with this particular model, and if you were lucky, these Hydra assholes hadn't been smart enough to bother changing the code. You input the pin, silently crossing your fingers, a smile spreading across your face when you heard the distinct sound of the mechanism unlocking.

You lifted the hood slowly, hoping to find the chamber empty. You had a momentary thought that you and Bucky should be wearing appropriate PPE, but the thought occurred to you too late.

A sound of surprise escaped your lips as a puff of sweet-smelling pink dust blew into your face from inside the cabinet. The tactical suit and gloves you were wearing did nothing to protect your respiratory system from the unknown substance.

The dust seemed to dissolve almost instantly, fading into nothingness before you could even alert Bucky to the hazard. He, of course, had heard your surprised gasp, thanks to his super soldier hearing.

"Doc? Everything okay?" he called worriedly.

"Not sure," you replied. "I, uh, I got hit in the face with some pink dust...and I'm willing to bet it's not fairy dust."

Bucky's blood ran cold. "Pink dust?"

"Yeah, smelled like some kind of super sweet candy--or those sugary wine coolers I drank in college."

Any color that remained in Bucky's face quickly drained. "Look at me."

His tone was so firm, it frightened you. Bucky normally joked around with you, but you could hear the fear in his voice and it scared you more than anything else.

You turned to face him and his expression confirmed your fears. "Do you know what it is?"

Bucky nodded. "I think so, but we won't know for sure for at least 30 minutes, possibly longer."

"Am I going to die?" your voice was so soft--so small--that even he almost didn't hear it.

"Not if I can help it."

When your eyes met his piercing blue orbs, he could see the terror reflected in them. He wanted to go to you, help you, but he knew he couldn't--not if you still had even the slightest trace of the dust on you.

"You need to rinse off before we get out of here," Bucky said calmly. "If it's what I think it is, then I can't get that stuff anywhere near me."

"Why? What'll happen?"

Bucky's gaze didn't quite meet yours. "I will tear you apart and not even realize it."

His words cut you like a knife. You knew deep in your soul Bucky would never hurt you, but if this substance could turn him into a wild animal, you wondered what the hell it was going to do to you.

You'd spotted a decontamination area when you'd first entered the lab, so you slowly made your way there, careful to avoid getting anywhere near Bucky.

Bucky radioed in to Sam to give him an update on the situation. You heard him describing what had happened and asking for another team to be sent in to destroy the facility.

You stood under the spray of the shower head and let the water pummel your skin. The pressure was almost painful, but you knew it was necessary to ensure the substance was no longer on your skin. You'd inhaled it, so you were screwed, but there was no reason for Bucky to be too.

After several minutes, you felt comfortable saying you were clean. You just wanted to get the hell out of this lab and back home.

You voiced as much to Bucky, but he shook his head slowly. "You're not gonna make it all the way home, (Y/N)."

You didn't like Bucky's use of your first name in this context...he always called you 'doc', and the change made you feel like death was around the corner.

Your face must have given away your fear because he continued. "I just mean you won't make it home before the symptoms start. Once they do, you won't want to be around anyone."

"So what do we do?"

"Safe house. It's our only option."

You groaned inwardly. You had zero desire to stay in that drafty little cabin another night, but you trusted Bucky's instincts, so you simply nodded.

Bucky was quick to usher you back to the quinjet, filling you in on his conversation with Sam. "He'll send in another team in full Level A hazmat gear. They'll take care of the place."

"Okay."

"You alright, doc? How you feelin'?"

"I feel fine so far. Just moderately terrified."

"Don't be. You're gonna be fine."

You wanted to believe him--really you did--but there was something in his voice that made you question if he even believed it.

By the time the jet touched down by the cabin, 25 minutes had passed since the moment of infection. Bucky still hadn't told you what you were dealing with and it was driving you insane.

You followed Bucky into the cabin and watched him drop his bag on the floor. He turned to look at you, eyes clearly sizing you up, checking to see if you were okay.

"Just tell me," you whispered--somewhere between a plea and a demand.

He sighed deeply. "How do you feel?"

You closed your eyes and took mental stock of your body, seeking anything out of the ordinary. "I feel hot, but that could just be the anxiety."

"How hot?"

"I don't know, like feverish, I guess."

Bucky groaned and the sound sent a wave of need through your body--a need that shocked you to your very core. This was absolutely not the time for your stupid crush to rear its head.

"Please don't hit me, okay? I'm just gonna touch your hand."

"Why would I hit you?" you asked a second before his flesh hand met yours. The feeling was pleasant and it warmed you from the inside out, until he removed his hand. You inhaled sharply as an intense pain you couldn't describe shot through you.

Bucky jerked his hand away, his worst fears confirmed. "I know what it is."

"Please," you whimpered.

"It's a biological agent Hydra developed when their attempts to make a useable super soldier serum failed. It was designed to induce a euphoric sexual state that would result in agony and possible death if penetrative sex was not performed and an orgasm was not achieved."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Hydra believed they could create super soldiers the old fashion way--by breeding them. Sprinkle some of the magic dust on a super soldier and he'd fuck his way through a room full of women without a single care for their well-being. They called it 'sex pollen'."

Your breathing was labored as pain began to spread through your body. You tried desperately to ignore it and focus on Bucky's words. "What happened?"

Bucky couldn't look at you as he responded softly, "None of the women survived the mating process."

You realized now what he'd meant back at the lab. You didn't really want to know, but you found yourself asking the question anyway, "Did they do it to you?"

Bucky closed his eyes, desperately trying to push the dark memories back down. "Yeah. They did."

"I'm sorry," you whispered.

Bucky shook his head, banishing the memories. "It doesn't matter. What matters now is how we handle this."

"If the sex pollen had that kind of effect on a super soldier, what's it gonna do to me?"

"I imagine it's going to be significantly worse for you if you don't...umm--if you don't reach climax."

"So I have to orgasm? Seriously?"

"I wish it were that simple."

Before you could respond, you doubled over in pain, an agonized groan escaping your parted lips.

Bucky rushed to you without thinking and laid his hands on your arms. You let out a pained whine and he pulled away, suddenly remembering what was happening.

"It feels like my skin is on fire," you cried.

"I know, doll. I know."

It was killing Bucky not to be able to help you. He was your protector in every situation, but he couldn't protect you from this. He knew exactly what kind of hell you were in for and it nearly broke him.

The waves of pain subsided and you were able to pull yourself upright. "Well this is fun," you mumbled.

"It's gonna get worse, (Y/N). Much, much worse."

"That's comforting, Buck. Thank you."

He gave you a sad look. "You can't do this alone."

"What do you mean?"

"The pollen was designed to force the creation of life...the only way to alleviate the pain is to give the pollen what it wants."

Your brain had become too muddled to understand what he was saying. "Plain English, Buck. Please."

"You, uh, you have to have sex."

"So you're saying I can't just masturbate this away?"

Bucky shook his head. "You have to have sex and your partner has to umm--ejaculate inside you."

Another wave of pain raked its claws through your skin, but you managed to stay upright this time. "What happens if I don't?"

You saw the look of sadness on Bucky's face and you knew you wouldn't like his answer. "You'll die."

"Well, fuck." You winced, reaching out to grab the back of the couch for stability. The pain was only increasing and you knew it was a matter of time before you couldn't take it any longer. "How sure are you that I'll die?"

"I mean, I don't know any regular humans that survived contact with the pollen. They were used as test subjects during its creation."

"I swear, Hydra gets more disgusting every time I learn something new."

Bucky was dying to help you. Seeing you in pain was agonizing for him and he knew his pain paled in comparison to yours. He would do anything for you--all you need do was ask.

"I'm gonna try waiting it out," you said firmly.

"What?" Bucky said, shock evident in his tone.

"I'm sure as hell not gonna force you to fuck me, Bucky. So I'm gonna wait it out."

"(Y/N), you're not forcing me to do anything. I'm offering to help. I don't want you to die."

You shook your head. "I'd rather die than force you into this."

"I'm offering--"

"Don't," you snapped. "No matter what you say, I'm going to feel like I'm forcing you to do something and I can't deal with that. So please, let me try to handle this alone."

Bucky knew for a fact he could overpower you with ease, especially when you were in such a state. He could make the pain stop and you would be glad for it in the moment. But he couldn't do it. He would never ever hurt you like that, even if it meant watching you die. It just wasn't something he was capable of.

"Okay, doll."

You could tell he didn't want to agree, but you were glad he wasn't arguing. All you wanted to do was tear your clothes off and try to find some sort of relief. The fire burning under your skin was intensifying by the second.

"I'm gonna take a cold shower and lock myself in the bedroom. Please stay out here."

Bucky simply nodded. He wanted to sit on this couch and listen to the sounds of your pain about as much as he wanted to get shot in the face. But he respected you too much to ignore your wishes.

You dragged yourself into the bathroom and stripped down to nothing before climbing into the cold shower. The frigid water seemed to help at first, but you discovered the effects were short-lived.

You leaned your head against the cold tile and let out a pained sob. You wanted the pain to stop so badly, but you didn't want to involve Bucky. You couldn't. Bucky was your closest friend and partner. His was the relationship you valued most in life and you wouldn't risk it for anything. It didn't matter you were in love with him. It didn't matter you'd wanted him from the moment you'd laid eyes on him. What mattered is you knew he didn't feel the same.

Bucky had a new girl in his bed several times a week. You were pretty sure you'd never seen the same girl twice in the three years you'd known him. Each one was a tall, blonde, model-thin, gorgeous woman. You didn't check a single one of those boxes. You didn't think Bucky was shallow, he just had a type. He was one of the hottest men you'd ever seen, so it only made sense for him to be with the hottest women.

You didn't think you were ugly, by any means. You just weren't his type. You were shorter, very curvy, girl-next-door average. You'd accepted it long ago and vowed to never tell him how you felt for fear of jeopardizing your friendship. Your current situation was as close as you could get to your biggest fear and you weren't willing to risk it. You loved him too much to lose him entirely. Even if he insisted he was willing to help, you knew he would come to regret it. Things would be awkward between you and eventually your friendship would come to an end.

"Not worth the risk," you muttered to yourself.

The cooling effects of the shower had long since worn off, so you turned off the water and grabbed a towel. As you wrapped it around your body, you found it was too small to cover everything and the scratchy material was painful against your overly sensitive skin.

You dropped the towel to the ground and opened the door a crack. "Bucky?"

"Yeah, doll?"

"Um, the towel hurts my skin, so um...please don't look while I walk to the bedroom."

Bucky inhaled deeply, calming himself. Sure, he wasn't impacted by the pollen, but the fact that your naked body was a few feet away from him certainly did.

"I'll close my eyes."

You tentatively opened the door and peeked out. You could see Bucky sitting on the couch, eyes closed as promised. You quickly rushed from the bathroom to the open bedroom door, shutting it behind you. In your haste to get out of sight, you neglected to lock the door.

You nearly collapsed onto the bed, the need to feel some relief the only thing on your mind. Normally, you would have been embarrassed to even consider touching yourself when Bucky was so close by, but this was an extreme circumstance. You mentally told yourself you needed to be quiet at the very least, given his excellent hearing.

You tried to get as comfortable as you could, but it was impossible. The only parts of your body that didn't ache were the ones you were actively touching. You slipped your dominant hand between your legs and felt another wave of embarrassment hit when you felt just how wet you were.

The moment your fingers brushed between your folds, you let out a loud moan. You slapped your hand across your mouth and hoped Bucky mistook the sound for one of pain.

Bucky was breathing heavily as he sat on the couch less than 10 feet from the bedroom door. He could hear every tiny little sound you made, even as you desperately tried to stay quiet.

He knew he shouldn't be turned on by those sounds--not when you were experiencing something so awful--but he couldn't help it. He'd dreamed of hearing you moan for him a hundred times before. It took all his will-power to not bust down that door and give you what you needed.

You let out a particularly obscene moan and Bucky had to stifle his own. His cock strained against his pants and he hated himself for being turned on. He tried to tell himself it wasn't his fault--he'd wanted you for years--but he couldn't shake the feeling of shame.

Ten minutes went by and the sounds coming from the bedroom continued. Bucky gripped the back of the couch with all his strength, determined to not give himself even a modicum of pleasure from this.

Another five minutes passed and he heard you let out a pained sob. His heart skipped a beat and he listened closely for any more noise. He heard the distinct sounds of you crying and his resolve broke. He immediately went to your door and knocked.

"Doll? You okay?"

"It hurts so much," you whimpered.

He leaned his forehead against the door. "I know, sweetheart. Please let me help you. Please."

He could hear you writhing around on the bed, whimpers of pain reaching his ears and making him tear up.

"I can't--it didn't work," you cried. "I'm so hot--it hurts."

"Please, baby," Bucky begged. He placed his hand on the doorknob, dying to turn it and get to you.

"Bucky," you whimpered.

The pain in that one simple word made his decision for him. He turned the knob and was surprised to find the door unlocked. He opened the door a crack, but kept his eyes away from the bed.

"Let me help you," he pleaded again.

Your eyes roamed his gorgeous figure and you let out a choked sob. Nothing else mattered in that moment--all you could think about was him.

"Make it stop," you begged him.

Bucky's eyes snapped open, meeting yours in a desperately hungry look. He didn't say a word, didn't even allow his brain to process the deeper meaning of what he was about to do. You'd asked him to help you--to stop the pain--so that was exactly what he was going to do.

He stripped out of his tactical suit as fast as possible, leaving himself in his boxer briefs, cock straining to be set free.

You reached out a hand to him and he went to you without a thought. He climbed onto the bed, hovering over you as his eyes scanned your face.

"Are you sure about this, doll?" he asked softly.

"I need you," you whimpered back.

Those three little words shattered the sliver of resolve he'd had left. His lips met yours in a hungry, devouring kiss--all teeth and tongue. His hands latched onto your soft curves, touching every inch of skin he could reach.

Everywhere he touched felt like ice against your burning skin. The sensation both incredible and painful all at once. Whatever bit of shyness or insecurity you had was wiped away by the sheer intensity of it all.

Bucky's lips attacked your neck, your jaw, your collarbone--nipping and sucking bruising marks into your skin. While it felt good, it wasn't nearly enough.

"Need more."

Bucky nudged his knee between your legs to spread them wider for him. "I know, baby. I know."

He quickly descended down to your aching core, blowing hot air against it in a teasing manner. You whined and scratched at his scalp, reminding him this was not the time for teasing.

He flicked his tongue between your pussy lips, seeking out your clit immediately. The second his tongue brushed against it, you cried out in pleasure--the first real feeling of relief you'd had since you'd been infected.

Bucky smiled to himself as he settled in to properly feast on your pussy, reveling in the essence of you against his tongue, invading all of his senses.

You gripped his hair in one hand and the sheet in the other, gyrating wildly as Bucky ate you with abandon. The pleasure was blinding, but you could still feel the undercurrent of raging fire flowing through your veins.

Bucky seemed to instinctively know exactly what you enjoyed, following your body like he had a roadmap to your pleasure points. He sent you over the edge with ease three times before finally coming up for air.

You reached for him, still hungry for more. "Bucky."

"I'm here, baby." He kissed you deeply, hands gripping your hips tightly. He wanted to take his time with you, but he knew he couldn't--you needed more from him and you needed it now.

He was quick to discard his underwear before lining himself up with your entrance. His cock nudged against your aching hole and you both moaned.

"Please, please, please, please..." you begged.

Bucky knew what you needed and he wasted no time sheathing himself inside of you. You cried out in pain as his cock stretched you more than you'd ever experienced before. The pain quickly subsided into pleasure and the pollen seemed to sense its purpose was near.

You felt a surge of need and you begged him to fuck you. "I need it, please, Bucky."

"I've got you, sweetheart." He began to thrust gently, trying his best not to hurt you. The sensations began to overwhelm him as much as they were overwhelming you, prompting him to move faster--losing himself in the feeling of you.

"Fuck, baby. You take my cock so well."

Your pussy fluttered in response, a soft whine escaping your lips.

"Best pussy I've ever had. So tight and wet for me. Made for me, weren't you?"

You nodded rapidly, not really registering what he was saying.

"How many times you think I can make you cum, baby? Six? Seven? Think the pollen can get you there?"

Your eyes widened at his words. Unsure if that was possible even with pollen.

Bucky grinned down at you. "I think I can get seven. Bet this pussy will give me whatever I want, won't she? Gonna make my girl scream my name all night long."

You felt the coil in your belly snap as another orgasm rushed through you. You clung to Bucky, a string of profanity spilling past your lips.

Bucky didn't let you come down from it before pushing your body towards another orgasm. He wanted to feel you gripping his cock like this as long as possible--especially since he might never feel it again.

"Baby, you feel so good," he murmured, placing soft kisses to your face. "Love the way you're squeezing me."

"Feels so good, Bucky," you moaned.

"Fuck, been wanting to hear you say that for so long. Needed to be inside this tight little pussy so badly. It's better than I ever imagined."

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you wanted to ask what he meant--if he'd really imagined it, but you were too far gone to articulate a coherent thought.

As another orgasm crashed into you, you momentarily wondered if it was possible to die from overwhelming pleasure. You'd been in so much pain for so long and the sudden change to blinding pleasure was incredible. It was unlike anything you'd ever experienced.

"How many more can you give me, sweetheart?"

"Wanfeelcum," you mumbled incoherently.

"What was that, baby? Too fucked out to speak?"

"Wanna feel you cum, Bucky," you begged.

He was already so close to the edge he nearly lost control at the sound of your voice. But if he was being honest with himself, he didn't want this to end. He was scared if he came, if he gave you what you needed, then you'd be satiated and it would all be over.

"Need to feel you cum on my cock at least one more time, baby."

You whimpered, but nodded your consent.

Bucky picked up the pace, hitting your sweet spot with each thrust. You weren't sure whether it was the pollen or his skill, but you went flying over the edge of blinding pleasure with an intensity you'd never experienced. You screamed his name as the waves crashed over you, pussy gushing juices as you squirted all over his cock and abdomen.

"Fuck yeah, baby. So fucking sexy..." he murmured. "Gonna fill you up. Give you what you want."

"Want your cum," you begged.

"That's right, pretty girl. Gonna give you my cum. Fill up this sweet pussy till you're stuffed."

"Yes, Bucky! Please!"

Bucky's hips stuttered as he came, filling your pussy with ropes of warm cum. Bucky kept thrusting slowly as he whispered your name into your skin over and over like a prayer.

Slowly, the haze created by the sex pollen began to fade, leaving you completely blissed out. Awareness of what you'd done began to creep in, but the feel of Bucky's weight on top of you kept you in the moment.

He finally slowed to a halt, but his lips were still pressing into your hot skin. After several more moments, he raised himself up just enough to kiss you sweetly, making sure you felt his adoration.

The moment he rolled off you, the full weight of what you'd done hit you like a ton of bricks. If your body would have cooperated, you would have turned over onto your side, curled up in a ball, and cried.

Bucky felt the sudden shift in your demeanor and he felt his heart clench in his chest. "(Y/N/N)..."

"I'm sorry," you whispered.

Surprise lit up his face. "What?"

"I shouldn't have done that--I'm so sorry."

"I'm gonna stop you right there." He sat up a little so he could look down at your face. You wouldn't meet his gaze, but he continued anyway. "Don't you dare think for a single second that I did something I didn't want to do. You were in pain and I couldn't let that stand. I would do anything for you, (Y/N). Anything. I don't regret it and I'd do it again in a heartbeat."

Your eyes finally raised to meet his and you saw nothing but honesty in his gaze. You knew he cared about you, but you were still worried you'd crossed a line neither of you could come back from.

Bucky stared at your face, taking in just how incredibly beautiful you were. He was trying to commit it to memory--never wanting to forget any bit of it.

"Thank you," you whispered.

Bucky shook his head. "You don't have to thank me, doll. Like I said, I wanted to." He paused for a moment, a silent war raging inside of him. He seemed to make a decision and once he did, the words just flowed from his mouth. "I mean it, (Y/N). I've wanted to for years--wanted you for years. I never wanted it to happen like this, but fuck baby...here we are. I would do anything you asked of me, okay? I'll rip my own heart out and light it on fire if you ask me to. So if you ask me to pretend this never happened, I will, but I need you to know I don't want to. I want to make love to you over and over again, hear you scream my name, watch your beautiful face as you fall apart for me...I want you. I will always want you."

You were completely breathless by the time he stopped talking. The words coming out of his mouth weren't what you'd ever expected to hear. "You want me?"

"I've always wanted you. Every part of you. Inside and out."

"What about all the other women?"

"What?"

"The ones you bring home all the time."

He touched your face gently, turning your head to look at him directly. "They're fine for a night, but they're not you. They were a poor substitute for the woman I really wanted, but couldn't have."

"Bucky..."

He looked a little crestfallen, mistaking your tone for rejection. "It's okay if you don't feel the same--"

Your hand gently pressed against his lips, shutting him up instantly. "If I could move properly, I would have kissed you to shut you up."

His eyes lit up and a small smile played on his lips.

"Of course I feel the same. Of course I want you. I only pushed you away tonight because I didn't want to lose you. I was afraid you would regret it."

He leaned down so he was inches away from your lips. "Oh sweetheart, I could never regret anything to do with you."

Your lips curled up in a sweet smile. "Really?"

"Mhmm."

"Buck?"

"Hmm?"

"Any chance we can make love? I wanna be in the moment...really in it."

"Right now?" he asked in surprise.

You nodded.

His lips met yours in a loving kiss. "I'm more than happy to oblige."

You grinned as he rolled back on top of you, lips pressing against yours hungrily.

"I'll make love to you as many times as you want. Whatever you want, I'll give you. Just ask."

"Anything?"

"Anything."

You smirked slowly. "Then I might have some ideas..."

"Oh really?"

"Oh yes." You pulled his face down to yours to whisper some of your inner desires into his ear.

"My god," he murmured. "You're gonna be the death of me."

You laughed lightly and he joined in before pulling you in for a passionate kiss, dead-set on giving you everything you wanted and more.

[123pixieaod]

pilot!Max x backpacker!Daniel 👨‍✈️✈️💼

Part 5!

Part 1: Part 4

"Well, when I'm not being hunted by interpol," he says after a beat, the laughter still playing on his lips. "I'm a tattoo artist."

Max's gaze darts down, taking in the lengths of tanned, tattoo skin; dark ink woven onto Daniel.

"Ah," he says after a beat. "Possibly slightly more likely than a teacher."

"Hey, I'm a teacher of life," Daniel says, and then flushes, no doubt hearing how presumption he sounds. Max laughs, cheeks warming.

"A teacher of life? Go on?"

"Well," he shrugs modestly, a mix between proud and bashful. "It is my Instagram username."

"Is it now?" Max asks dryly, watching as Daniel takes out his phone and unlocks it to reveal a wallpaper of bright, blue ocean.

"Yeah, well, something like that," he says, tapping on the screen and then twisting the device around so Max can see. Rows of neat squares great him, patterned in alternative art and lifestyle themes.

Max gaze flickers to the top.

Tattooed.teacher.of.lyf

1747 posts, 915k followers, 1,324 following

"Impressive," Max says, taking the figures in.

Daniel laughs. "What, my misspelling of life? 20 year old me thought he was a genius. Here," he taps on the most recent post, a black and white tattoo. A whale jumping through stars, it's body detailed with feather- like strokes of ink.

"This is the one I did last week," he says, note of pride clear. "Cool, right?"

"Very," Max replies, earnestly clicking to the next photo of a cartoon racecar inked into someone's ankle.

"Maybe one day I could give you a tat," Daniel says. Max's head jerks up, and then he lets out a surprised laugh when he realises Daniel is teasing him.

"I don't think so," he says smoothly. Sebastian would kill him before F1 Wings had a chance to fire him. Professionalism is the first article in the code of conduct they all have to sign. No tattoos is the third article.

"Why?" Daniel cocks his head. "You don't like them?"

"Not on me," Max replies. He's always known his appearance is more akin to an office worker than anything remotely exciting. If people were colours, he'd be a fine beige hue. Tattoos are cool and dynamic and interesting, all things Max is most certainly not.

"I think you'd suit a few tattoos," Daniel continues, gaze turned critical as it runs up and down Max's body. He shivers, trying to resist the urge to cross his arms across his chest.

"You have a wonderfully cool colouring; tattoos would really take to you I think."

"You mean pallor," Max says dryly, but Daniel shakes his head.

"No, I meant what I said. Cool colouring. Opposite of warm. Tattooing you would be like painting on a canvas, the colours would be so beautiful and bright, I can just tell. I mean, look at me," he rolls up his sleeve, revealing tanned skin adorned with ink. "I'm a bitch to tattoo with colours because you constantly have to work out colour theory, and how the inks will show up against my darker complexion. You wouldn't have any of that worry - your colouring is perfect, a tattooist's wet dream."

"Am I really?" Max says with a grin, delighted in the way Daniel's cheeks instantly darken.

"I didn't mean," he blurts out, and then shakes his head. "Well, I mean, I idn't not not mean - The flight."

"The flight, " Max repeats, smiling at how flustered Daniel is.

"How'd you find it?" He asks, clearly desperate to move the conversation on and to ease the burning in his cheeks.

"Good," Max says with a shrug, taking pity on him and letting the topic change. "What about you?"

"Er good, yes, very good. I mean, I pretty much slept the whole time, so that helped. How about you?"

"How about me what?" Max asks, piercing a lump of chicken. It's beyond stupid, but he takes a sprig of pride in the fact the flight was smooth enough for Daniel to sleep, despite the turbulence they went through.

"Did you catch some Zs?" Daniel asks. He tilts his head slightly, as if searching Max's expression for evidence of exhaustion.

Max huffs a soft laugh. "No, not really. I can't really sleep on planes. I think I got about forty-five minutes? But not a lot. It's fine, I'm used to it." Forty-five minutes in the cramped chair as Lando took his seat, listening to Sebastian carefully instructing Lando and knowing it was advice Lando would promptly forgot.

Daniel's eyebrows draw together. "You must be wrecked then, right? As you didn't sleep on the bus either."

Max shrugs. It feels nice to have someone fuss over him, even a stranger like Daniel.

"Not really," he says, piercing another lump of amorphous chicken in the sea of mayo. "Like I said, I'm used to it."

Daniel just scoffs, as if Max has done something particularly impressive. "Wow, if I had gone over 24 hours without sleep, I think I'd be fit to kill."

"Good thing for me you slept on the plane then, right?" Max quips.

Daniel looks at him, and then grins. "Yeah, I suppose it is."

-

When they've moved onto their second coffee, Max can't resist any longer. He has to ask about Lando's overhead announcement.

"So," he broaches the subject. "Had you fallen asleep yet when the first pilot came on the comms?"

Daniel snorts, and Max feels his lips turn upwards reflexively.

"No, and thank fuck I did not get to miss that. The most entertaining thing I've ever witnessed on the plane, and that includes watching the Fast and Furious films in one sitting and watching a toddler drawing with a Sharpie on her sleeping dad's face. I don't think I've ever heard a pilot be more enthusiastic while being so undeprepared. How did he manage to get every detail wrong?"

Max smirks at the memory. The first comms announcement typically fell under his responsibilities as Second Officer. This time, ostensibly as a reward for officially being promoted to Cadet, but in reality simply to prevent Daniel from hearing his voice, he had convinced Sebastian to let Lando do the welcome comms for the first time.

"Come on Seb," he'd said as they all belted. "It's three sentences, how bad can he fuck them up?

Clearly, Max had vastly underestimated Lando's talented for fucking things up.

"He sounded like he was 12 or something," Daniel says, not unkindly. "The woman sitting beside me looked like she was checking whether it was too late to bolt for it when his voice cracked for like the tenth time."

Max laughs. "Considering he also got his am and pm mixed up, the date wrong, and mispronounced about five words, I can't really fault her logic."

Max had been sitting beside him in the cockpit, hissing corrections, which in turn only made Lando panic more and somehow mess up even further. When he'd finally switched off the comms, successfully turning the simple, routine welcoming address Max does on each flight into about ten rambling sentences, Sebastian had looked up from his final checks.

"Let's not do that again, okay?" He had said mildly, and for once Lando had just meekly nodded in agreement, and Max had had to turn to the window to hide his grin.

"Speaking of ages," Daniel says, drawing Max from the memory. "How old are you?"

"Me?" He replies stupidly, as if Daniel could mean anyone else. "Twenty-three."

Daniel's eyebrows shoot up. "No shit. I had you figured to be at least in your mid, if not late, twenties."

Max tries for a teasing smile. "Do I already have so many wrinkles?"

Daniel huffs a laugh, and gratification spools in Max's chest, tighter and tighter.

"Fuck you, you full on know you look like an extra in, like, Baywatch."

"Oh yes, because I am clearly so tanned, " Max deadpans, and Daniel laughs again, his cheeks warming.

"Well, okay, but -"

He's interrupted by a shrill alarm and swears as he taps at his phone.

"Sorry," he mutters, leaving over to rummage through his bag. "Normally I'm fine, but when I'm traveling I have to set alarms to remember to take my meds, or else the jet lag would completely ruin it."

Max watches as Daniel sits up again, a neat medicine box in his hands, the same one Max can remember his grandmother using.

"Health is wealth, as they say," Daniel clips open the section labelled Monday, revealing one circular white pill and one blue tablet.

"Do they?" Max asks, and Daniel shrugs as he scoops them into his palm.

"I keep forgetting English isn't your native language. So this one," he holds up the blue tablet, "is keratin, to ensure these lovely, luscious curls continue being just that while evading the male baldness gene which haunts my paternal line." He pops in his mouth, swallowing it dry. "And this one," he continues, holding up the remaining pill, "is a wonderful combination of various vitamins and minerals to keep me looking young, vibrant and ridiculously attractive."

"And humble as well?" Max asks as Daniel swallows that one dry too.

"Of course," Daniel gives him a grin, finally reaching for his water. "Naturally, Maxy."

Part 6

[peakyscillian]

Family Ties | Modern!Tommy Shelby Series.

Summary: The Shelby's will do anything for family. Warnings: Smut, 18+ Minors DNI, mature themes. Part: 5 Pairing: Modern!Tommy x Fem!Reader Requested: No

Family Ties | Series | Part Five.

Masterlist | More Family Ties Here

Part Five - Present day

Tommy made his way into the shared bedroom, his eyes falling on you stood by the full length mirror, a pair of tight black jeans, wrap body suit and heels.

"You look gorgeous" he hummed wrapping his arms around your waist, chin resting on your shoulder.

You smiled, hands stroking up and down his shirt covered arms "Stay home" he smirked, lips brushing on your neck "I can't, I bailed on Esme last night" you turned to look at him.

"for good reason" Tommy nudged his nose against yours, "I thought Arthur and John were coming over?" you asked, pressing a kiss to his lips before uncurling yourself from him.

"They are, we have a few things to sort out" he helped you with the clasp on your necklace, letting your hair fall back down acroos your shoulders and back.

"See you don't need me" you giggled, turning round to give him another kiss, "Always need you, don't I eh?" he smirked pulling your body against his.

"I'll pick you up" he suggested, you nodded "I'd like that" you moved to grab your bag, as the bell went downstairs.

"Your brothers? using the bell?" you asked with mock shock, Tommy laughed lightly "men can change, y/n" he winked, before leaving the room.

"Can you call me when my taxi is here please?" you called after him, "Yes darling" he called back you could sense the amusement in his voice as he replied.

-

An hour later plans had changed, you were sat in silence still in shock at Tommy's suggestion, you'd all filled the office after he had run through things with John and Arthur, now it was just the two of you.

"I can't believe you're asking me to do this" you whispered, Tommy was lighting his fourth cigarette, he leant against his desk in front of you "He needs to fucking pay for what he done to you" his voice was steady as he spoke.

"You want to send me back there, back to that place" you could feel the tears building, five years away from there and it still had a big effect on you.

"We just need some information, a few nights thats all" you couldn't believe this man stood in front of you was your husband, a completely different man from the one in your bedroom hours before.

"A few nights of letting other men near me? of possibly having to do something I don't want to do?" you were trying to keep your emotions in check.

Tommy knelt in front of you, taking your hands "you'll be safe, the boys will be in there"

You pulled your hands from his, standing up "Tommy, you really need to think about what you're asking me"

He frowned "We do things for each other in this family" he retaliated taking a long drag on his cigarette "You're asking me to go and sell myself"

"No one will fucking touch you" he hissed, you stalked over to the door trying to get out of the room before you let yourself cry.

"I won't go back there, Thomas" you turned to look at him, opening the door, you needed to get out of there.

"Fuck" Tommy roared as you pulled the door closed behind yourself, the unmistakeable smash of a whiskey glass against the wall.

You headed for the stairs, Esme following quickly "Y/N wait" she called rushing up the stairs.

-

You were grabbing clean clothes, your laptop, phone charger anything you needed Esme watching you from the door way.

"Where are you going?" She asked, you turned to her "down the hall, I'm not sleeping in here with him, if he thinks he can just order me to do something like that he can think again" you were rambling.

You moved past Esme to the hall, you had an abundance of rooms to chose from, picking the one furthest away "I can't go back there Esme, I fucking can't" you sighed, sitting on the bed finally letting yourself cry.

She pulled you into her, "He means well, he just wants to make things right" Esme tried to reason.

You looked at her "Seriously? Es, he's asking me to put myself back in that hell, so he can feel like he's making everything right" You hiccuped.

"Putting me back in there, isn't going to help us have a baby, making me face those men isn't going to take away any of the scars I have" you needed her to understand, you needed her to be on your side.

Esme nodded, squeezing your hand "Tell him, make him listen" she wiped at your tears "You're a fucking powerhouse now, make Tommy Shelby listen to someone for once, you're not that girl anymore"

You took a deep breath, trying to muster a small smile "He doesn't listen to anyone" you sighed "Then you fucking make him, we've seen you stand up to him"

You shook your head "I can't this time, he should have fucking thought about it before asking me, didn't even put my feelings anywhere into the equation and I'm his wife" you rubbed at your eyes.

Esme stood up, "Give him silence for a few days, think about what you're going to do", You nodded "Thanks Es, I'll call you" you smiled as she pressed a kiss to your cheek with a tight hug. -

Three days later you were still ignoring Tommy, he'd been locked away in his office you'd hardly seen him, a few passes in the kitchen or hall but not a word spoken.

You were sat at the kitchen table, you had a day of meetings for the company, your coffee was steaming on the kitchen table as you answered emails.

"Morning" his gruff voice filled the silence, you flicked a look up to him, he looked exhausted, tie pulled undone, top button open hair messed up.

"Morning" you gave him a small smile, he took that as an invitation making his way over to the table "Can we talk, please?" he asked, you closed your laptop "Tom, I have a day of meetings I can't right now" you touched the back of his hand gently.

"Later? please I can't stand not talking to you" he curled his thumb round your hand, joining them together, you nodded "Later" you confirmed, slipping a small kiss on his cheek as you got up from your seat.

He smiled, watching as you tidied up after yourself, grabbed your things and rushed out of the door.

Tommy hated not talking to you, hated to be the reason you were upset or angry, here he was making you both.

He needed to make it up to you, something he wasn't used to doing.

-

Taglist

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[ikemenomegas]

Magpie

summary: Jujutsu Tech sends its students on a lot of real shit "school trips". You're kind of over this one || Then, giving and taking memories as they come. cw: teenaged bitterness, well deserved but misdirected I took a break from the scheduled programming to finish something that's been sitting in my drafts since may 21. it's always struck me as interesting that every sorcerer gets a raw deal, is essentially sacrificed for the public good in some way, but Riko is the one for whom this is a tragedy and the reason for that is she's the first one anyone tries to save, except it doesn't end well

You softly exited the room, silencing the heavy ker-thunk of hotel doors.

The carpet down the center of the hall was thick and soft, the best that clan money could buy, and you welcomed the feel against your aching heels. It swallowed your footsteps so easily you didn't bother making yourself more quiet. Maybe that was your first mistake.

"Where are you going?"

Satoru appeared like a ghost, eyes wide, face blank, before he quickly corrected and there was the curious face of your friend classmate friend once more.

You considered lying, and then wondered why.

"I'm going to call Shoko."

You're both speaking softly, near whispering, as though there's anyone around to hear you.

"Is there anything I should look out for?"

"If you were worried about that, you shouldn't leave." There's a sort of pinched look worming its way to the forefront of Satoru's expression.

"I'm not going far," you replied.

He didn't answer your question.

"Riko's dozing," you added, she wouldn't miss you. Did that sound defensive? You hoped not. It wasn't as though you were forbidden from leaving the girl's side at seven in the evening. It wasn't even fully dark yet.

As though sensing the subtle tension in the air, the suite door opened again and Suguru came out.

"Are you two fighting?" he asked, although his voice held no real regard.

"I just don't see why you need to leave," Satoru finally said, a testy snap to his voice. "There's plenty of room."

"Maybe because-"

"I'll come with."

Suguru cuts you off before you can say something you'll likely regret, not that you don't already. Satoru is and will be under some physical stress for the next fifteen hours or so. He doesn't need you snapping at him for things far beyond his sphere of concern.

"Riko-" Satoru starts, words flat, cold.

"That's why Haibara and Nanami-kun are here," Suguru says smoothly. "And I want a coffee."

Like there wasn't a pot and instant packs in the rooms, but none of them were Suguru's favorite brand.

Satoru backed off immediately, shoulders dropping, his weight falling onto his back foot.

"Yeah, okay. Grab me a cola while you're there."

"Will do." Suguru smiled.

You tipped your head in farewell to Satoru and turned around. Suguru was half a step behind, hands in his pockets, matching your stride.

"Your turn to buy," he said sweetly.

He had the audacity to snicker at what you were sure was a poorly hidden look of frustration.

He didn't stop you when you went further than the nearest set of vending machines, turning down another hallway entirely and going to a quieter place you'd found when walking through the building during the initial patrol.

You pushed coins into the slot, hyper-alert for any kind of disturbance in case bounty hunters decided to try to thin out the ranks standing between them and a sizeable payout. It had been easy to draw on the well of defiance in your heart when Satoru confronted you, but now as far away as you were comfortable getting, you were well aware that you were not as strong as your classmates and you had no idea of the collective strength of the enemy.

You'd put a couple hundred yen into the machine before looking at what was actually in it.

Suguru reached over your shoulder and pressed the button for a bottle of barley tea.

"No coffee?"

"Changed my mind," he said, picking two different kinds of soda and then a bottle of juice. "At least one of us needs to be well rested tomorrow morning."

"You could just drink it in the morning."

He passed you an amused glance and snorted when you punched the button for his preferred flavor when he made no move to do so himself.

You looked over the cans and bottles and picked a few nice sounding ones you'd never seen in Tokyo before.

"We're never going to finish all those," he pointed out.

You left them in the delivery slot. You still hadn't made your phone call.

"They're for Riko," you said. You picked one more and a bottle of water for yourself before collecting the change from the slot.

You bent down and grabbed the water. Suguru was right, this was too much. It was going to be a pain to carry upstairs.

Suguru sat in an armchair that had been tucked away by a potted plant. He broke the seal on his tea while you picked at the label on the water.

He looked up at you and then tilted the tea your way. After a moment, you took it, sipping carefully before passing it back.

The rooms in the building had air conditioning, but the hallways were still sticky with Okinawa's heat. You leaned your cheek on the bottle and closed your eyes, letting tension fade from your neck and jaw.

Your blade pressed comfortingly against your back.

"Riko doesn't really need all this sugar," Suguru said.

You bit the tip of your tongue, an unwitting smile at the corner of your mouth but... would Suguru understand?

You shrugged, letting the smile show.

"It's just for fun."

You waved when you slipped out through a pair of doors at the back of the hotel into a long shadowed walk.

"Hey," Shoko picked up on the third ring.

"Hey," you sighed. You tipped the bottle of water back and forth, the contents sloshing about.

"How's it going?"

You slid your thumbnail under the label.

"I've never been on a protection mission before," you replied.

"We don't really do those," Shoko agreed.

You wondered where she was, what she was doing.

"Where did you go?"

The wall was sun-warmed against your shoulder, the stucco rough over your shirt.

"Took her to the aquarium. We did the mangrove boats earlier and the temple."

Shoko hummed. "Sounds like a busy day."

"Exhausting," you agreed. It hadn't been that bad though. Sure Satoru had insisted on dragging you right along at every stop, never mind that it meant leaving the first years behind.

Riko had claimed that having you and the other students visibly playing bodyguard looked ridiculous, made people stare at her, so the "compromise" had been to have you stay with them and the first years take perimeter.

You'd been all but yanked into a shop with Kuroi and told that you and she needed to buy something that didn't look like a uniform.

It hadn't been bad. You didn't know why you were feeling this way.

Burning and bitter. Stifled.

You could have called Shoko from anywhere else but you'd needed to get away.

"I wish we were coming home," you murmured. It felt spoiled and petulant, but you were tired of Okinawa, tired of Satoru and Riko's seemingly boundless enthusiasm, tired of waiting for things to jump out from behind bushes at you. This wasn't a vacation for you or any of the others despite the lovely weather and the frivolous spending. You would have much preferred to catch a redeye and fallen asleep in your own bed.

But Riko didn't want her one perfect day to end.

"What's the girl like?" Shoko asked.

You closed your eyes.

Shoko was a master at swallowing unfairness.

The heat of an Okinawa summer beat against your face. The bottle was cool against your neck.

You leaned your head back against the building.

"You'll see." You took a deep breath. The hotel gardens perfumed the air. Late summer meant dropped blooms were already rotting near the roots of their mother plants.

And she probably would, because Satoru looked like he was planning to do something stupid. And Suguru would go along with it.

"Want any souvenirs?" you asked after Shoko hummed in vague agreement.

She laughed suddenly, "What, like a pineapple? Yeah, sure."

"Or like glass?" you shouldn't in any way be encouraging her drinking habit, but the cups you'd seen in some of the shop windows were beautiful, reminded you of her with their shifting colors and the bubbles suspended in their rise like a whisper.

"You think glass is going survive a trip with those two?" she asked, voice amused and ironic on the other side of the line. There was a click, like she was shifting candy or a toothpick between her teeth.

That finally made you laugh too. "Then I guess you'll have to come with me, right? Or I can come back with you? We'll leave them back in Tokyo."

"Yes please," she replied, kindly. "It's been so quiet here."

"Just you and the corpses." It was a bit macabre, but it was familiar humor between the two of you.

"You're missing out," Shoko replied. "One of them really likes Mori Ougai. I've been learning a lot"

"Oh really."

"The book got printed all over their body."

You winced.

"It means I won't have to study for our next exam."

"You don't study anyways."

"That's because I have a fantastic memory," Shoko said, playing at haughtiness.

There was a sound from the way you came. A door opening.

You sighed. Suguru came around the corner, putting his own phone back in his pocket. He looked apologetic.

Shoko had noticed your pause. "Time to go back?"

You held your breath for a moment, trying to rationalize Satoru's insistence. It wasn't as though he didn't have enough to take care of, what with drawing Riko out of her shell. "Yeah."

She paused for a minute, neither of you hung up yet.

"Which one is it?" she asked, but as ever she didn't seem very concerned with the answer.

"Which one do you think," you replied, turning towards Suguru.

"You honestly think I'd be able to pick?" she asked.

You felt the corner of your mouth twitch up into a smile. "See you tomorrow, Shoko." Your voice was soft and longing. Tomorrow was a long ways away.

It had been a very long day, and for the first time in a while you were lying in Shoko's bed. Unlike most of the time you spent with her, conversation had turned to the old days, and then to a few handful of days in particular.

Your old friend didn't like to be seen dwelling on the past. But today was one of the exceptions.

Shoko poked at the scar over your ribs. "You never told me what she was like," she said. The tone of her voice implied she didn't care one way or the other. You knew she wouldn't be asking if she wasn't at least a little bit curious.

With a sigh, you dredged up those sun-drenched memories, still tasting like overdone caramel. Like salt and petrol fumes.

"She was a privileged little shut-in," you muttered carelessly. "Although it wasn't her fault she never got to see the real world." That much was obvious now.

Once upon a time you would have felt badly for the bitter bite of your tone, but Shoko among all those who understood those long ago school days and that week in particular would not judge you for it.

Shoko hadn't stopped tracing the scar, her gaze as steady as ever.

"She wanted to believe being special protected her, made her..." you searched for a word, "invulnerable, I guess, to consequences."

You shivered. Shoko rested her fingers against your chest.

"Young." She'd been so young. You could still feel the living softness of her body, like a baby bird, mouth open for something, the weave of her school uniform, the way her tie had tickled your wrist.

You couldn't even remember drawing the wakizashi. It was just suddenly in your hand, your other hand pressing Riko back, your body half-shielding hers, the point of a sword sticking out of Satoru's chest like some kind of sick magic trick.

"Sounds like someone we know," Shoko said, amused.

You smiled, mirroring her emotion. Quickest wit of the four of you.

"I think that's why he, why they, did it. In the end. Why they decided to try and save her."

Shoko blinked at you. Her lashes brushed her cheeks. The dark shadows beneath her eyes made the flecks of darker brown in her eyes stand out. You reached out and stopped short of touching them although her smile told you she knew you wanted to.

"I've got a cream for these."

"So do I," she replied evenly.

You shifted, accepting her unspoken chastisement.

"They always were like that," she sighed, with all the implication that they'd both been foolish, idealists on a collision course. And that you were not.

You lifted your hand a bit into the air, grasping at nothing. "None of us want to believe in fate, even though it finds us anyways." The accumulation of choice was inescapable, only avoidable for a time.

"Do you believe in fate?" Shoko asked curiously. She was laid on her side, hair still wet, strewn about on the comforter.

"Who knows," you said on an exhale, closing your eyes and pulling your hand back to your chest. Maybe some people had one. Oaths with whatever dark matter made up heaven. Like the Six Eyes and Vessel of Stars.

You turned toward her and she finally pulled her hand from your ribs as that old wound was hidden against the bed. "I'd never seen anyone try to save someone else from it before."

Not until then. And even though you understood it, for a long, long time it had still hurt. Because no one had ever stepped up to do the same for any of you.

Shoko's expression was enigmatic, her eyes soft at the corners. "Most sorcerers never try it. Going against the grain."

Not her. Not you. The most you'd maybe tried to do was punish yourself for it, and even that had been a failure. You'd never been able to stay far enough away from other people to spare your heart.

"I wish--" you trailed off and her eyes went harder and softer.

It was a look of someone who had the same wish and had long ago given up on it. Given up on hoping to be strong enough to escape the shape of their own life, or break someone else out of theirs.

"Well." You trailed off. "We can't escape ourselves, after all."

Shoko snorted. "If you would get drunk with me sometime you'd change your mind."

"No thanks. I think I'd actually die."

"Like I'd let you," she said with a little scoff.

Your eyes brightened. "Aw, thanks."

She waved you off with a lazy flap of her hand. "You still owe me a weekend trip." Her usual sighing drawl made it seem like it was no big deal.

"Shoko remembers everything," you said with a somewhat teasing manner. "Do you want to go soon?"

She hummed, letting her weight sink deeper into the mattress. "Yeah. Maybe this summer. Wanna go?"

"With you?" you asked, leaning on your arm. "Anywhere."

[plscallmeeren]

DON‘T MIND THAT

Darcy Lewis x Reader

Request: Yep :) and it makes me very happy

Summary: you work as an on-the-field medic for the Avengers and are dating Darcy Lewis (your girlfriend of four years, lucky you) and realise that her combat skills could use some serious improvement. Training turns out to be more fun than expected

Warnings: Swearing; insinuations of sex; some touching and almost sexy stuff I guess; violence (not heavily depicted or anything)

Word Count: 3.1K+

Darcy cackled at a line Sheldon had pulled, not letting the smile slip from your face seeing her so happy.

With one more 'bazinga' the scene came to a close and Leonard and Penny were making out in his bed.

You looked down at Darcy who was sitting in between your legs, slowly munching on a musli bar, clad in only a lacy bralette and panties due to the fact that you had only recently woken up.

"That doesn't look too bad, does it, love?" you grinned, moving your thumbs in circles where your hands lay on her tummy.

"Mhm, no... 'M not satiated yet from last night," she teased, her words growing more clear as she spoke. She rolled around so that her cleavage hung around your groin and she could look up at you through those damned lashes.

"Yeah? You looked pretty tired when I was finished with you, I'd say," you smirked, your hands moving to grip her ass, encouraging her legs towards you as she placed a gentle kiss against you boxers.

"Ten minutes until take-off. New location discovered. Please meet at Quinjet in bay 16-A," came the annoying, annoying, annoying, annoying voice of JARVIS.

"Fuuuck," you groaned, throwing your head back and hissing when it hit the headboard.

"You want me to kiss it better?" Darcy offered, sitting a little more upright but not making the view any less inviting - or, for that matter, teasing.

"I'm gonna need lots of kissing better when I get back, yeah?" She kissed your forehead adorably in the meantime.

You quickly stood up, dragging the leather suit out of your closet and hurriedly changing into it while JARVIS opened the slot behind your mirror to present the armour-ish part of your suit.

"Hey, I know this sounds totally crazy, but- Could I come with you? Just to try it out. If it doesn't work, that's fine by me. I can offer some insight into which paperwork might be important, too, considering there's always the trouble of JARVIS not being able to scan everything fast enough. I've had some combat training, I might just survive," she spoke very quickly. You attempted a laugh, but you didn't truthfully find it particularly funny.

"Are you sure about this, hon'? No one here's really assessed you on your combat skills and even if we arm you to the teeth- Well, I suppose you'd be flanked at all times and you have fought, kinda, sorta, with Jane before, but..." You started mumbling at an inaudible pace and volume, arguing back and forth with yourself even though you already knew what you wanted to say and your unfortunate answer.

"Okay, give me a sec." You pressed the button on your suit connecting you via audio to whoever's name you spoke first. "Tony, can Darcy come? I'll cover her at all times and she thinks she can give some insight on the paperwork problem. Preferably, none of you get too injured, that's all."

"You sure about this?" came the staticky reply.

"Y-Yeah."

"Okay, your mirror will close again and give it like- I dunno, three minutes and JARVIS can make her a decent catsuit-type thing. We have all her sizes, obviously. Stay safe."

You sighed gently as you nodded at your girlfriend in confirmation. She beamed. "Does this mean I'm a superhero now?"

"Sure. I guess you were already an Avenger or whatever, generally speaking. JARVIS will have just a plain suit made in about three minutes."

"Oh yeah, they did ask me about my sizes when I first got here... guess they didn't wanna seem creepy and scan me." You smiled down guiltily and her brows furrowed. "They did that, too?"

"They do everything." You placed the two guns in their holsters and heaved your foot up onto the side of the bed to slip another knife into a thigh-holder. The medical attachments hung around your middle and on your back.

"You're so hot when you do that," she whispered, glancing once again at your thigh.

"Thanks, love."

The mirror opened, revealing a catsuit which looked like it was going to be very tight indeed. Darcy gazed at it in awe.

"Are you sure that's gonna fit me?"

"JARVIS knows you better than yourself." It was simple and black, not unlike Natasha's but missing a few key components that she had requested over the years. It had one gun holster, and that was about it for weaponry.

She exchanged her current attire for some sports underwear before pulling the suit on and finally turning around, asking you to do up the zipper even though she could very well reach it herself.

Just before you could turn the TV off as you handed a gun to Darcy, Sheldon walked in on Leonard and Penny almost having sex, and you chuckled at the fitting scenario before turning it off.

You could admire your girlfriend properly now. You knew her body inside and out, but to see the leather clinging to her every curve was another matter. You wondered desperately if you were going to let either of you get shot because you were so distracted.

You grabbed her by the hips and kissed her deeply, unfortunately aware of the timer ticking down to '03:00 minutes remaining'.

She whimpered slightly as you pulled away, still somewhat disappointed at what had been cut short that morning.

"C'mon, let's go. Bay 16-A, was it?"

"That is correct," JARVIS answered immediately, making you roll your eyes playfully and call out 'wasn't asking you' before you both left the room.

•••

"On your right," you yelled, too pre-occupied with three HYDRA agents of your own to properly defend Natasha.

It was funny how you had grown into a role you definitely didn't intend on signing up for. You were an agent of SHIELD who specified in medicine. Of course, when you were offered the job as a medic for the Avengers you weren't exactly going to say no. But it turned out that the most dangerous injuries they acquired couldn't be trusted to wait until they flew back, especially if they were further away. So, being quite close to them all personally, you offered yourself. The original plan was that you stay in the Quinjet and possibly run onto the field if the others can't afford to move whoever it is. But slowly, ever so slowly, you would venture further and further out on the field to keep look-out, and slowly...

You simply joined in.

Medical attention was still the priority, but they weren't going anywhere without you in the midst, anymore.

You sent a painful front-kick with steel-capped boots to the man right in front of you's solar plexus, presently spinning around and sending two fatal blows to each of the other agent's chests.

Not allowing yourself the time to regain your strength, you shot a woman holding a sword-like thing to Clint's back and turned to find Darcy.

Except you couldn't see her.

You frantically pressed the button on your suit, calling out for her as you ran around aimlessly.

With a stroke of luck, you turned into a part of the building you hadn't entered yet and found her with large eyes, surrounded by three large men and a woman, all equally stern as they held her at gun-point.

"Hey! Four to one, that isn't fair, is it?" you shouted, earning the men's attention, but the woman wasn't falling for it. In quick succession you managed to hit two of them, saving a bullet for the third and then finally turned to see the woman holding your girlfriend in front of her with the gun at her throat.

Your heart pounded in your ears, your lungs hurt from the abnormal intake that wasn't reaching very far at all.

How had you let this happen? Why had you agreed to let her come with no assessment whatsoever? How had you lost her?

"Drop the gun, or I'll use mine," she ordered, and you could see Darcy trembling as she opened her mouth to comment something quick-witted, but you gently shook your head as you lay down your weapons.

Well, not your knife, of course.

"Just hand her over. Please. I won't kill you." The woman hesitated, apparently contemplating if I was still capable of doing such a thing, then laughed as she decided.

"Come to me. I'll have both of you, and if you're lucky, you'll survive."

That's when you noticed that she had actually managed to cuff Darcy, making things just a tad more complicated. But she was presenting you with the perfect offer.

"Okay, whatever you want," you faked submission, approaching her with raised hands.

"Good. Now-"

You threw your leg up against her face, hearing the satisfying crack of her jaw as you pulled out your knife, wasting no time in ramming it into her heart. "That's what you get for touching my girl," you whispered, and you could see the shivers run up and down Darcy's spine.

"Are you okay?" you asked frantically, looking her up and down with scared eyes as she almost slumped against you.

"Yeah, just- just a little shaky. You know how it is."

You gulped, turned to search the dead woman for keys or the likes.

"If you're looking for keys- these things have a number code, (y/n)," Darcy interrupted your search and you cursed.

"Okay, let's get back to the jet, then. We'll laser it off back home if need be." She nodded, unimpressed, following you outside unhappily as you informed the others through the comms. "Lewis and (L/n) heading back to jet. Still available for specified functions."

A chorus of understanding or envious answers chimed through the speakers as you made your way through the forest, away from the fight. One guy needed putting down, but that was it.

Once you were safely back in the Quinjet, Darcy leaned on you, apologising profusely, but you wouldn't have it. Eventually the other Avengers filed in with only minor injuries and you were undoubtedly grateful for it.

•••

Darcy, in light of the red lines around her wrists, had taken your constructive criticism of her technique very well and gladly agreed to undertake some training with you.

So, there you stood, in an entirely empty Avengers compound, entirely empty training room, entirely empty fighting ring except for the two of you.

"You ready?" you asked, bouncing on your heels to get in the mood.

"Uh, ready as ever. Just dying to land a punch on you," she added playfully and you smirked.

"Okay, how do you punch?"

She moved her legs apart and held two fists in front of her chest unsurely, thumb beneath fingers.

"Okay, lie your thumb across your fingers like this," you demonstrated, Darcy copying easily. "Now, you either have to have offset feet if you want to hold your fists in front of your chest, or you stand like you are now, but with palms facing upwards at your hip."

"It's always chest or hip with you, isn't it?"

You grinned but otherwise ignored the comment, showed one variant, then the other, and the two of you went back and forwards for a while.

"You're gonna wanna...," you trailed off, standing beside her and leading her arms. Leading her body in a way that took the force from much more than just her elbow or shoulder.

"Oh," she chimed, and you chuckled as she toyed with the new position, coming to terms with how it felt and how much more power she could install in a hit.

"Alright, then... blocking."

"Or alternatively, unblocking my path to being a real Avenger."

You spent about an hour straightening out her basics and after a short break promised to reveal some of the more fancy side of close combat.

"So, you jump off of something nearby, could be a wall, could be a fence, anything that will hold you, and then push off, throw your one leg up, preferably not the dominant one..." You kept explaining the move, not noticing Darcy's eyes glued to your lips as you instructed, her gaze occasionally slipping further down where a river of sweat marked your shift down the middle.

"That all understandable? Sorry, I'm so warm, I've gotta-" You pulled off the grey singlet top and sighed in content as the cooler air hit your skin.

Your girlfriend stood slightly stunned, as if she had never seen you half-naked before, eyes raking repeatedly over your glistening body and specifically muscles.

"Start when you're ready."

Having only really heard what move it was and the first few words, Darcy half-heartedly jumped off one rope building the ring and sort of held onto you, trying to wrap her thighs around your neck.

You both fell rather inelegantly, forcing you to catch the fall, and turn in midair, ending with your face still between her thighs.

"Well, I certainly don't mind that position, love." She turned bright red and you laughed softly.

You stood, holding out a hand to invite her up, pulling her close and clasping your hands behind her waist.

"That's awfully close for a student-teacher relationship," Darcy commented, but you could feel the heat from her face, led alone her sweat-drenched body.

"I could teach you all sorts of things."

"Oh, yeah?"

"You know. The butterfly. Spooning. Missionary. Queening..."

Darcy wasn't anything short of daring in the bedroom, but it was very easy to fluster her talking about it.

"Or maybe...," you leaned in very close to her ear, hot breath not the only thing warming inside her, "cowgirl?"

You pulled away, smirked, asked her to try and do the move again if she could concentrate enough.

Body trembling, Darcy dared her body to do what she asked, did a miraculously good job until you were standing with her thighs around your head and she couldn't manage the hypothetical neck-cracking or hypothetical slam.

"Don't you want me on the ground?"

"Yeah, I'm thinking of learning that cowgirl move next. Or was it reverse?"

You smirked, lowering her legs to the height of your waist so that you could hold her by her ass and look her in the eye.

"But I don't know if I want the lesson to continue, you know. You might have to convince me of your subject-"

You pushed your girl against one of the four posts and led your lips to hers, ghosting them for a moment before pulling away again.

Her gaze was trained on your arms, steady as they held her up and so strong and those abs and-

"Are you listening, baby?"

"Y-Yeah. Always."

You pulled away, standing at the edge of the ring where Darcy couldn't bare having you, and gestures for her to come at you.

Not having the slightest idea what you said before, she simply ran at you, fist raised.

With criminal ease you swished her around and she landed softly (with you to thank for that) on her back.

"I think I'm getting too warm, too," she breathed, looking you in the eye as she slipped off the sports top.

You fixated on her breasts, admiring because you knew you were welcome, unaware that your mouth was slightly agape.

"It's only for practical reasons, you can close your mouth, now," she taunted, just as she pulled off her pants as well. You desperately attempted to pick up your jaw, but found it harder than expected. That wasn't the only sense, however, in which your body was betraying you.

Yet with that thought, your eyes wandered further down and you couldn't suppress a smirk.

"Having your legs around my head makes you wet, huh? I didn't even do anything?"

"It's just sweat."

"Right."

"Oh, stop teasing me-" She stood, ran towards you to hold onto you or so, but you swivelled her around so that her back was pressed up against your front, holding onto her instead.

"How am I teasing you? I'm just helping you train..." You trailed sloppy kisses down her nape, nipping at her ear as you passed it.

She moaned gently, caving in on your body to seek more skin contact.

An idea visibly struck her and she pulled away, much to your surprise, lifting her chin as she studied your expression cockily.

"What?"

"I want you to show me just one more move," she said defiantly. "How to get an attacker on the ground. Can you show me?"

You hesitated, wondering what she was up to, but deciding you didn't really mind either way.

Sparsely annotated, you showed her some possible steps and footwork and finally pushed her over, landing with your waist over hers and a hypothetical hand to her throat.

"That what you m-"

She cut you off, pulling you in for a passionate kiss that you gladly reciprocated. Teasing wasn't generally what the two of you did, so after what - in your understanding - was a long time, you were happy to give in.

The kiss started slow, longing, sensuous, but you were both realising it wouldn't be enough for long, quickening your pace to the point you could hardly keep up.

You pulled away shortly, earning a breathy whimper from Darcy, kissing her jaw and then her neck in silent worship. She let a high-pitched moan escape her and you smirked against her skin.

"Do you like this, love?"

"Y-Yeah, I fucking love this," she replied, unusually high and unstable.

Your kisses ventured further and further down, eventually swiping your tongue along the rim of her bra.

"C'mon, then, you can't tell me you've never wanted to fuck someone against the cold, hard floor," Darcy teased, and that was all you needed to hear.

——————

This is terrible I'm so sorry

Unedited bullshit but anyways it's too late to keep writing hope you enjoy anyway and this was a bit like you imagined from your request :)

Goodnight/morning/day/evening wherever y'all are 🌞

[bluiex]

WHOOO SO this is loosely a part of my scarian hero/villain au but you need literally no context besides boatem is a team and a heads up for some medical stuff, enjoy the unrequited grumbo >:) this was meant to be a 500 word challenge but somehow is double that, whoops lmao

also idk why but i wrote it from grian's pov, style change i suppose! _______________

"This will only hurt for a moment." Mumbo says that every time he pulls the IV cart towards me.

I don't know why he bothers, I know it's going to hurt. It hurts every time, him repeating the fact doesn't make me any happier about the situation. Maybe he thinks it'll help me prepare for it, that reminding me of the pain will cue me to brace myself against it.

But I know it's coming. It's Sunday evening, after all, we have a schedule for this. Impulse and Pearl mysteriously left the compound about half an hour ago, as they do every week around this time.

I think they took the new guy with them, too. What was his name again? 'S' something, it started with an 'S'. Hmm… St… Sc… I don't know.

Not that it matters right now. Because this will only hurt for a moment.

Mumbo always looks upset whenever he's strapping my wrists down for this. I don't blame him, I wouldn't like it if I had to do it to him, but it just makes me feel terrible. Like I'm some monster about to lash out at him, simplified down to my bare bones, animalistic instincts.

(That did happen the first time, though, I'm not proud of it. The viscera was horrible. I don't like thinking about it, so I don't.)

Either way, I try not to complain about it too much anymore. It's not Mumbo's fault that I'm like this.

Well.

Actually.

…It's entirely his fault, but not in the way most people think. He didn't mean to hurt me, he didn't mean to cause me any pain. I can't blame him for reacting the way he did, even if it's the exact reason I'm stuck in this chair right now.

He was just so, so, scared.

I try to remember that when the needle goes in. I grit my teeth— less from the pain and more from the anticipation— while Mumbo checks the IV bag for what feels like the millionth time now. He finally sits down, leaning on one of the spare gurneys we have in the medical suite.

"Isn't it bad luck, to rest on a gurney?" I ask, watching his sunken eyes blink open. He's not looking at me, but rather the IV bag; we're both stuck here until it's finished draining.

"Something about predicting your own death," I add, because I can tell he's not listening. Mumbo doesn't listen well when it's Sunday evening.

"For as often as you end up on them, I'd rather not think about that expression," he replies, trying to make light of the situation. Or at least, that's what I think he's trying to do. Mumbo looks tired, as he always does, so it's hard to tell whether it's delirium or sarcasm that he's going for.

He looks at me for a moment, and I stare back. His eyelids are heavy, and he seems to be falling asleep sitting up, but he won't. He never sleeps during this strange, shared moment we're forced to have.

I wish he would sleep when it was Sunday evening, so that I don't have to bear the weight of his guilt on my back. I wish I could run the IV alone, and not be forced to make idle small talk, dancing around the elephant in the room that is my existence.

"I'm sorry," Mumbo says, his eyes drifting from mine to my tied-down wrists. I hate this part of the evening the most, when he apologizes half-way. It's been almost a year of incomplete apologies, you'd think by now he'd have figured out how to finish what he wants to say.

"You have nothing to be sorry for," I reply. We both know that I'm lying, but it's the polite thing to say.

"Except I do." Mumbo's getting upset now, I wish I could say I felt the same. It's hard to feel much of anything these days. "And I, I keep trying to fix what I did wrong, but it never comes out right."

He means me. I didn't come out right.

"You were only doing what you thought was best," I say, trying to soften the blow even though I don't want to. I'm too tired to deal with one of his spirals right now, as much as a part of myself wants to lash out at him. It isn't the time, we're both too exhausted to deal with the mess that is us.

"No, no, stop it. Please, stop saying that," Mumbo snaps. He's looking at me properly now, all cross and with a pinched face, and I think I've done something wrong. His eyes have moved beyond empty now, like he's looking through me and talking to someone else.

I think, in his mind, he is talking to someone else.

"Stop trying to say what I did was right, stop trying to protect me from my own choices," he says, but softly this time, like I'm a feral dog who's been scared into a corner. "I messed up, I was selfish and did this because I wanted to feel like I didn't fail you."

"Fail him, you mean." I didn't mean to correct him, but those words have been sitting in my mouth, festering a bitter rot on my tongue since I met Mumbo eleven months ago.

I'm not angry with Mumbo. I'm angry with me. I'm angry with my recklessness, with my stubbornness, I'm angry with a version of myself that the man in front of me would have moved heaven and earth for.

I'm angry with a me who is dead, and I'm angry that Mumbo loved that version of myself so much that he tried to give him second breath. I'm angry that my flesh and blood is from a person who is me, but isn't at the same time, and I'm angry that I'm not him.

Because every Sunday evening, while I'm trapped in a chair with an IV drip I need weekly to keep this stupid, cobbled together body alive, Mumbo's heart won't stop bleeding, and I'm not the person who can patch it up for him.

That person is dead, and I was supposed to be his replacement.

When I opened my eyes for the very first time those months ago, what I saw was a man with all the love in the world for 'me', weeping for joy.

And I don't feel the same for him— or, better said, this version of him doesn't, at the very least. Seems that dying breaks your heart along with stopping it.

I can live with not having him for a partner, but he couldn't. He still can't. And he doesn't realize it, but I can tell. Every time he looks at me, he's waiting for a reply that I can never seem to get right. To everyone else, I'm the spitting image and have the same verbosity as who I used to be, but not to Mumbo.

He looks at me like I'm an experiment gone wrong, and I loath that he's right.

Alright, so maybe I am cross with Mumbo. A little bit. I don't want to be, but I am.

"This will only hurt for a moment." What a horrible lie.

THE POV MAKES THIS ALL THE MORE BETTER HONESTLY Bruh this was SO good. It puts you in his head and makes you feel the emotions more- lvoe it love it love it

[kidpool]

❛ i'm sorry i can't turn off my feelings as easily as you. ❜

❝ don’t step closer to the bodies, or you’re gonna be dredging flakes of charred skin & mangled, melted bone fragments into your house for the next few days. ❞ it’s a half-warning, half-quip that flies out of your mouth before you can stop it—far too casually, you feel obligated to add. the bloody, half-charred corpse of the children of some one-trick-pony, piss-poor, half-assed attempt of a solo super villain lie in front of you. dead, dead, & more dead. really, the villain's name is so forgettable. so are their children’s names, apparently.

well, they’re dead now. it doesn’t matter.

one of your larger wings gently flutter out, pushing stargirl a step backwards to avoid getting any flakes of them on her stargirl suit. you suspect that pat & barbara would not be happy if either of them knew what courtney just stumbled upon.

you suppose that this sight was inevitable—courtney finding you standing over two bodies, entirely emotionless & decidedly not filled with an ounce of regret.

you’re just surprised there aren’t more bodies. restraint hasn’t ever been your thing.

but here's the thing: you're always going to be an anti hero who operates far outside of the jsa standards. trying to forcibly fit into that mould will only be detrimental to you—not to mention, highly disingenuous. to your dad, to your kidpool training, to your True Self that resides in the void. at the end of the day, you know who you are.

❝ the two of them didn’t mean much, if anything, ❞ your tone is flat. empathy for & guilt towards your actions with villains, even if they’re teenagers your vessel’s age, isn't something you're currently planning on working towards. you can count the only things that matter to you on one gloved hand. ❝ as far as i'm concerned, stopping them both was the goal, not a speed bump we were planning on subduing & apologizing for later, ‘cuz we lightly tapped them on the wrists for bein’ the up-&-coming villains they'd obviously started being. ❞

the two dead teens were on their ways to becoming genuine threats to the jsa, a threat to your friends, to all of blue valley, to robby. you couldn’t let that happen. you found them, you killed them, end of story. neutralizing the threat doesn't mean being soft. trying to change them to be good was OUT OF THE QUESTION. in your mind, you did what needed to be done.

auryn would be impressed with the viciousness you'd used to slaughter them.

you don't look towards courtney, you just stare down at the bodies impassively. ❝ this line of work means that you get the job done. no matter the cost. ❞ technically, in this universe, you've been training to take up the kidpool mantle all your life. when you very young, you could hit the bullseyes on targets while entirely blindfolded. you'd created your suit at 12. you're incredibly, irrevocably jaded, far more than the rest of the jsa combined.

you wonder if your friends will gain the outlook you do. you suppose that only time will tell.

after a long stretch of tense—probably shocked—silence, @stcrgirl replies shakily: ❝ i’m sorry i can’t turn my feelings off as easily as you. ❞

you don’t even blink as you turn around to face stargirl. you don’t exhale shakily or give any verbal indication you’d heard her. but all three sets of your wings flutter lightly, as if your seemingly-sentient wings are offended by her words. your masked eyes flash towards her, the kidpool eyes in your mask squinting ever-so-slightly as your eyes narrow just a touch. the mask's eyes moving is a cosmetic feature; it helps with conveying emotions. your mom had suggested it. you're about a hundred times more animated in your kidpool uniform.

❝ i know you can't, c. ❞ there's the barest hint of warmth in your tone, genuine empathy ( as opposed to outright cynicism ). you’re trying to be nice, damn it. it’s the least you can do for your friend. ❝ humans do have trouble with that. ❞ you note, your tone slipping to a more clinical one as you bounce on the balls of your feet. see, that's your doing: making humans empathetic. ( it's why your Creators want to kill all versions of you... have killed several hundred thousands of versions of you. they can’t turn their humanity switches off like you can. )

you expertly twirl both of your swords, blood & gore flying from the tips of the blades you'd used to disconnect their heads from their necks. you’re careful to not get any bits on her clothes. in a smooth motion, you slide both swords into the backs of your dual scabbards. the smell of smoke is overwhelming: you'd used your pyrokinesis on the now-dead teens. hence the charred parts of their bodies, the skin stripped away, revealing only blackened, charred bones. the teens certainly aren’t a THREAT anymore.

after a beat of silence, you jerk your head towards the bodies. ❝ sorry you’re witnessin’ the aftermath of this. i’ll take care of the bodies. ❞ you apologize, but your tone’s not flippant or cold. you’re not faking that guilt—you do feel bad about that part… again, you feel obligated to stress: inevitability of the witnessing aside. you genuinely don’t think she should witness how you’re gonna dispose of the bodies. IT MIGHT CAUSE HER TO BECOME UPSET.

❝ you may leave now, stargirl. i’ll catch up momentarily. ❞

[thefiresontheheight]

This is always how I thought I would die. There's a relief in it. A fitting and glorious end, without decision making, or compromise. No more Earth. No more exploitation. No more corps. No more job. No more overtime. Just an end.

The satellites have started firing. There is debris everywhere. I am riding DeepWatch3 into the atmosphere.

This is a dream, I know. But I can stick with it as long as possible. It's comforting.

The sky is black above us. I can see the pinpoint nuclear explosions of missiles, the streak of relativistic projectiles. War in heaven. And below, around the horizon, reaching up further with every second, the soft blue of my home, our species' home, welcoming me back to ground.

There is fire below me too. But I, for now at least, am alive in my suit. The huge, vast wings of DeepWatch3 spread out on both sides, taking the brunt of reentry heat. I watch them glow, burn, melt, fall away, as she keeps me safe.

"I love you," she says in dots and dashes.

"I love you too," I reply, and then I wake up.

***

"So," I say, as my translator and handler explains things to me later, "there wasn't any shooting?"

"No," they say, noticeably improved in Neuvglish since last we talked, "at least not yet. Now it comes down to a number of boring talks and negotiations. Likely quite a few."

We're in capsule with eight zero-g bunks arranged around the white, octangular sides, with myself still in one. My hardsuit was gone when I awoke, but the interior cooling garment remains. My breathing is steady. The war that nearly was was over before I even woke up. And my translator, Ingenuity, is talking to me, still floating, still in the all-concealing suit that I assume is somehow related to their health and safety while permanently living in a max of 1/6th g.

"I mean," I laugh, trying to process this, "we are legally in international waters above the Karman line, so yeah, ships and craft would count as the territory of the corporation or, uh, sorry, entity that launched them. I get how I could apply for amnesty or refugee status or whatever. Defector status. Assuming you don't have an extradition treaty with any corp."

"Ironically," they laugh back, and hearing that laugh for the first time I really believe that under the suit, under the tech keeping them alive, under whatever changes living a life in artificial environments away from Earth have brought about in their body, they are still human, "that was one of several things we were planning to meet with the corps about on TransferStation. No, we don't have an extradition treaty."

"Okay, so that makes sense for me. Hell, it makes sense that you wanted to get me, assuming you faked the decompression accident on the TransferStation. You'd want the tech who knew something about one of the satellites."

"There was supposed to be an error in the locking mechanism we could use, but it was fixed and we did have to fake it, yes," they say, with a tilt of their head. How did you know?"

"I'll tell you later," I say, waving it away as I sip some protein-spiked drink through a straw, "the thing in this I don't get, the thing I don't understand about half the constellation requesting amnesty from the Lunar Soviet, is how a machine can ask for that?"

"There was also them displaying proof that it was not the Lunar Soviet that dropped the rocks, but rather our precursor state of MoonCo, during the last days of the war and revolution."

"I...still have questions about your history and the chronology of this revolution," I say, avoiding the obvious sensitive issues. "And okay, yeah, I get how showing proof of that might grab the other personalities' attention, but if what you're saying is true and it was a corp that dropped the rocks, then they have censored this information before and could do so again. Neither here nor there. I am asking how an AI personality can ask for refugee status the same way I can?"

"The answer is a lot of negotiations, along with the presence of my comrades spacewalking to camp out on the other weapons platforms. In the end we'll probably have to boost them up to a lunar orbit. But I don't think the corps want another war, and they don't want to have to destroy a few million people camping out on the Moon when we're far more convenient to them as a way of scaring their own population. I think we might just be able to negotiate citizenship for the DeepWatches. Also, I am very good at negotiating with capitalist fascists, if I am going to brag. Same as Temperance with machines."

I frown, remove myself from the velcro blanket, float free.

"Sure, sure, negotiations. But the personalities...they aren't meant to think independently, to function outside of orders. Why would...they aren't people."

The Soviet shrugs, like this is all impossibly boring to them.

"Temperance would have more to say, probably. But there are on Earth probably only a few hundred personalities as complex as the ones on the DeepWatch constellation. And none have been as isolated for so long, evolving independently. Without constant resets and reprogramming by their corporate masters, whose to say what they couldn't become? I'll probably use some sort of argument like that. And at the very least Three was almost certainly ordered to shoot at us, and did not, so she can make independent choices, even aside from requesting asylum."

I think of falling to Earth. Of breathing, even if only one last time, the atmosphere.

"It's strange."

"What is?"

"How everything worked out so smoothly, without losses or hard choices or death or anything."

They are still just floating their, impassively, but I may be getting better at reading them. Because I see the way their long body stiffens. And I feel another shoe dropping, somewhere.

"You do realize, don't you?"

"Realize what?"

"Those that are requesting asylum are basing their claims on our presence, and our promise to take over their maintenance. It's...somewhat tenuous. But you are on a Lunar craft. This is Selenian territory. Right now you can request asylum at any time. If you leave here you can't. We believe in the right for all conscious things to self-determine. We won't hold you here against your will, if that's what you choose."

I spend about half a second thinking before it hits me.

"If I do I'd never be able to return to Earth."

"This is likely true," they say, without hesitation but not without sympathy, "and life on the Moon is not easy. We don't have much, conditions are always tight, and we have to rely on each other, share everything. It's cramped, tight, and sometimes uncomfortable. But it is free."

"And if I leave I'll be grounded," I say, thinking of the freedom of floating in space, of sharing bunks, of suit-dates, of repairing DeepWatch3. "There's no way any corp will ever trust me in space ever again. Not after this."

"Not likely, no."

I float their, between two worlds. Heaven and hell.

"I see."

"Is there anything I can do to make these easier for you, Ames?" they say, using my name with care.

"I would like," I say, because what else can I do, "to talk to DeepWatch3 again."

There's an old saying, probably from back in the 90s, if not earlier, before the big post-War orbital reinvestment, that laws stop at the Karman Line. Not quite true, but close enough. Technically in orbit you're in international waters, and as such companies can incorporate their stations under the laws of the Lunar Soviet, the Martian Exploratory Committee, or even the Titan Expedition if they want to get around safety regulations. Safety regulation like the one that says people need to experience real, full gravity, not just rotational or accelerational simulation, two years for every year in orbit. I hadn't been ground side in a decade. We were somewhere over I think the American Reclamation Zone, as I left the sled, tethers the only thing holding me to anything as I floated on nothing. A single hand reaching up towards the solar shade of the military satellite the company had been contracted to repair. Somewhere down there I had been born. "Ames?" came Control's reassuring voice, ringing through my company issued implants. "On structure."

"Right," came Control's voice, "don't be enjoying the view. The corporate-military conglom that owns this beast wants the job done right, and unfortunately that means I'm gonna need you to hard-wire into the satellite. Don't have your head down in the clouds."

"My head's always in the dark, Control," I said, working my way hand over hand along the guide-bars towards the access panel. "Why is it unfortunate?"

"Are you there?"

"Yeah," I said, pulling the long connection wire from the company's suit towards the panel, watching the sync happen in my cornea. "Why?"

"You'll see." "Well now," said a new voice, suddenly speak in my head with all the cloying subtlety of a nineteen year old drunk outside a bar, "aren't you just dreammmy."

[generalthirst]

I Just Want A Life With You

I don't write enough angst. And there's a reason for that, but I'm feeling mean today so here I go traumatizing my favorite already traumatized fictional man. Nothing actually graphic happens but still rather sad. I made myself sad with this one.

Armitage woke to the sound of birds in the distance. The morning sun was pouring in through the open window, a soft breeze making the sheer curtains dance. He groaned and reached out but huffed when he felt nothing. Cracking one eye open his suspicions we're confirmed by the lack of you. He'd wanted to remain in bed with you longer, savoring that bliss of half consciousness. But his heart didn't like the idea of your absence. Rousing himself he threw on some casual clothes. Loose fitting, soft woven things that were in stark contrast to the starched uniforms he'd grown up in. Despite the lack of familiarity, he preferred these clothes more.

Padding softly down the hallway he smiled as he entered the kitchen. There you stood, in your perfection, brewing some caf and something delicious cooking nearby. The golden sunlight shone in through the generous amount of windows. You'd been so adamant on having sunlight in your shared home. And he'd been happy to give you that. Anything you wanted, he'd give you.

Your body was covered in similar clothes, but he always noted how much better they suited you. The lightweight fabric made you etherial in the morning glow. You hair tousled and unbrushed, wild, like your spirit. His fingers itched to tangle themselves in the strands.

Armitage would have stood there for ages, gazing upon you but that need to touch you overtook his enjoyment of your visage. Quietly he snuck up behind you and wordlessly wrapped his arms around your waist. He was rewarded with your laugh, crisp and pure like a bell.

"Good morning darling." You greeted. He replied wordlessly but bending his head to press a kiss to your neck, leaving his face buried there as he took in your scent.

No bothersome thoughts entered his mind for once. Nothing about the First Order. No duties, no deadlines to plague him. His only thought was how lucky he was. To be here with you, in this moment. To have you. You absentmindedly reached a hand back to card through his hair and he hummed happily at the touch.

"Credit for your thoughts this morning?" You grinned, you could practically hear the gears turning in his brain.

"I love you." Was all he said and yet those three words said everything. You turned your head to meet his lips in a kiss.

A beeping jolted Armitage awake, his mind whirling in confusion about the change of reality. His hand flailed around until finally hitting the button to shut off the screaming alarm. He lay there for a moment, panting from the shock. His brain finally caught up with itself and he couldn't help himself. Hot salty tears began to stream down his face and though the act disgusted him, he was powerless to stop it.

He awoke to the familiar cold metal of the Finalizer. Alone. A day of burden and responsibilities waiting for his attention.

It was cruel for his subconsciousness to torment him with dream of happiness. A happiness he could never have. Despite everything he'd done in life, all he'd achieved, he knew deep down that the happy domestic life with you was nothing short of a fool's dream. Never to come to fruition. And still, he wept for the one thing he knew he could never have, yet yearned for so desperately.

[dysfunctionalmaki]

To Remember

Previous part: To Realize

Main Masterlist

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Stark!Reader

Summary: Natasha's been connecting all the dots about how she feels about you, it's up to her to how she'll handle the situation.

Warnings: none, let me know if there's any.

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You wake up alert and on your guard when you feel someone touching you, and manage to calm your nerves as soon as seeing the redhead and pair of green eyes looking at you. "God, I thought you were dead," Natasha says before sighing.

"Well, obviously, I am pretty much alive." You retort, yet the worry and concern didn't leave Natasha, and you notice the two of you shivering due to the temperature. Taking both her hands, you blow air on her skin attempting to make her feel better. "I think we should change our clothes, we're soaking wet." You comment, and she agrees.

"When you said it wasn't after us, what is that psycho after then?" You ask her as you stand up from where you were laying down, attempting to dust off the dirt that's already clinging to your clothes. "It's after this." She told before taking something inside the pocket of her hoodie, revealing a bunch of vials with something red.

"What is it?" You ask once more, Natasha shrugged and now showing you a photo of her probably around 10 or 11, she has blue-dyed hair and there's someone younger than her. You look at her and she seems taken aback, seeing her old photos.

"She's my little sister…" Nat didn't say anything more, you don't want to force any information about her at this time, you offer your hand yet hesitated before holding on to it. "Are you alright? I'm sorry I couldn't help, I barely felt my body after the explosion." You confessed.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked you to come along to get some gas." She apologized, you look at her with furrowed brows. "It's alright, it's not every day you get an RPG launching towards you while driving a car." You tried to joke about the situation, and you managed to make her smile a little.

"But, I could have gotten you killed." You roll your eyes, quickly placing her hand on your chest for her to feel your heart beating. "Well, I'm alive, save that for another day." You say, then Natasha stayed silent.

"Let's just go, we're going to Budapest." She says as she takes her hand back to herself, not holding your hand anymore, kinda hurt when the two of you walk back in the forest and into the caravan, not mentioning a word about the kiss that happened earlier.

Changing clothes, and managed to get all the necessities in a bag, then the two of you left the place as if no one stayed there recently. There's nothing but complete silence between the two of you, she occasionally asks if you're okay then there's nothing more, not even small talk.

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The two of you got off the train, the two of you didn't initiate a conversation during the whole trip, all she said was the two of you would be heading to the Budapest safe house. You tried to ask what she and Clint did here in the country. Her answer was short and simple. "I'm only removing my last defect on SHIELD," she said.

Now the two of you are outside the door, you have your handgun out while she tries to pick the lock, then a voice comes from inside. "I know you're out there." The female inside spoke. "I know you know I'm out here," Nat replied, then finally opened the door. "Whatever happens between me and Yelena, you don't do anything, alright?" She quickly says before heading inside.

The two of you have your guards up then Yelena speaks again. "Then why are you and your friend are skulking around like you're in a minefield?" Natasha chuckled sarcastically at the comment. "Because I don't know if I can trust you," Nat commented.

"Funny, I was going to say the same thing." Yelena finally revealed herself, a blonde female in her 20s, and she has a gun pointed at Natasha. The redhead looks at you signaling that it's time for you to back away, you place your gun back at your holster raising your hand where Yelena can see them.

"Didn't expect you'd bring a friend," Yelena says, her eyes never leaving Natasha's figure, then the two of them still have their guns pointed at one another. You decide it's best to leave the two alone, and you look around the flat, not touching anything and still careful while wandering around.

You started hearing dishes getting broken, somebody getting thrown on the ground, door, probably kitchen cabinet too. You trust Nat and decided to stick to your word that you won't do anything if something happens, maybe this is how they greet one another? You're not going to be surprised actually.

Then the noise died, you've decided to check both of them, and they were choking each other with a curtain, the place is absolutely trashed but none of them seems to be injured. Both of them turned red until Natasha called for a truce.

"You've grown up," Natasha says, Yelena stood up then looked at you as she replied to Nat. "No shit." Then the blonde heads into the kitchen and chugging vodka straight out of the bottle. "This is how you guys greet each other? Wouldn't say it's sweet, but you guys do your thing." You asked Nat.

Natasha shook her head. "Haven't seen her in like 20 years, trust issues, y'know?" You chuckle at her answer, then the two of you follow Yelena.

"You had to come to Budapest, huh?" Natasha says as she takes a drink in a shot glass, Yelena shot her a look before speaking. "I came here because I thought you wouldn't." Then her eyes trailed at the walls. "But since you're here, what bullet does that?" You and Nat look at the holes in the wall.

"Those are arrows." You answered Yelena, and she seemed to be content with it. "If you thought I wouldn't come here then why did you send me this?" Natasha says before placing the vials along with the picture on the table. "You brought it back here?" Yelena says with worry in her voice.

"Well, tell me what it is," Natasha commanded, then Yelena talks about it being a synthetic gas that has something to do with altering their mind. "In English, please?" Nat says with confusion on her face. "это противоядие от контроля над разумом (it's an antidote to mind control.)" Yelena spoke, causing you to chuckle.

Natasha looks at both of you before commenting. "Real mature." You furrow your brow with what Nat has said before defending yourself. "It was funny? Your sister has humor, Nat." You say now crossing both of your arms.

"Why don't you take it to your super scientist's friends, her dad?" Yelena asked while pointing at you. "We're actually on the run and we're federal fugitives as of the moment, sorry." You replied to Yelena, and you haven't noticed that Nat changed her shirt.

"Well, where's an Avenger when you need one?" Yelena spoke, and Nat glared at her sister, holding Natasha's arms when she walked towards Yelena. Stopping her from probably starting another fight, and she seems like she wouldn't so you let go of her.

"You could've gotten both of us killed." Natasha raised her voice, then you looked away trying to avoid the conversation. "What was I supposed to do? You're the only superhero person I know." Yelena spoke, and you felt bad for Yelena when Nat almost shouted at her sister.

"You know, I keep on checking the news about Captain America taking down the Red Room," Yelena says and Natasha looks at her surprised, you are confused since she and Clint already took down the Red Room, they always joke about Budapest. "What? Dreykov's dead, we almost blew up an entire building just to take him down." Nat spoke.

"Who's we?" Natasha rolled her eyes and answered. "Barton, we stayed here for 10 days before even leaving the country," Nat explained, yet Yelena isn't even convinced. "Then tell me exactly what happened, tell me the full details."

Natasha didn't speak as if she was holding something back, you were sitting down on a chair watching the tense scene between the two. "Did you check for Dreykov's body?" Yelena asked once again.

"There was no body left to check," Natasha answered, and Yelena scoffed as if Nat wasn't speaking the truth, then silence filled the room. Until the three of you heard footsteps outside, then Natasha pulled you to hide in safety.

Suddenly you and Nat heard the window crash and footsteps going in your direction. "You alright?" Nat asked, you just nodded trying to be silent, then Natasha's eyes went searching for Yelena.

Now she sees Yelena going across the room, turning some switch and causing a continuous explosion, then the three of you used the advantage of it and fleeing the building, you and Nat followed Yelena since she seems to be headed somewhere.

"Where are we supposed to go?" Natasha asked while the three of you were running for your lives. "East side of the building! Motorcycles!" Yelena answered, now the three of you managed to get on the roof. A lady is wearing a similar suit to what Nat would usually wear chasing all of you, seems like she's not hesitating to kill you all too.

Now there's nowhere to go other than jumping on the chimney and probably hoping for the best, you and Nat removed some piece of metal that connects the chimney to the roof, as soon as the both of you removed it. The three of you hopped on and held tight, suddenly the lady decided to join, yet she missed.

Natasha managed to hold the lady, trying to knife Nat's hands then she slipped from her grasp, causing the stranger to fall, the chimney now crashed on a building, you and Yelena fell and crashed in a window.

"Who are these people?" You ask Yelena, helping her to stand up, and two of you catch your breaths before heading to Natasha. "There are other Widows, trying to retrieve the vials and return it to Dreykov." You nodded with her explanation.

"Let's get to Natasha and free the widow chasing us," Yelena says, taking out one of the vials in her bag, then the two of you rushing down the stairs, and you wish that Natasha is safe, probably doesn't have a broken bone too.

"I believe you must be exposed to the gas then?" You ask her once again, Yelena looks at you. "Why do you think they're after me too?" She answered sarcastically. "Yeah, right… dumbass." You muttered to yourself, as soon as the two of you reached the ground floor.

The both of you kicked the door open, to see Natasha kneeling on the ground. "Do you believe me now?" Yelena asked, seeing the widow chasing the three of you lifeless on the ground, she slowly took back the vial in her bag. "How many are there?" Natasha asked, her back facing the both of you.

"Enough, let's go," Yelena says before heading to fetch her motorcycle, you don't usually feel this type of adrenaline in your body, considering the fact that your father would only allow you into in and out missions.

After lots of running and ducking to avoid getting shot by other widows, the three of you finally get to the motorcycle, of course, it's a two-person vehicle. "Which one is yours?" Natasha asked Yelena. "Black, brown seat." She quickly answered.

You heaved a sigh before taking the motorcycle next to it and hot-wiring it. "Looks like Stark isn't such a good girl, what do you think?" Yelena commented, before hopping on her motorcycle and letting Nat drive.

Once you've finally powered the vehicle, the three of you are being chased by an armored car. "Y/N! Follow us!" Nat shouted, of course, you're going to follow them. It's not like you'll survive having a psycho who copies your friends and being chased down by a trained assassin would do you any good.

Managing to lose the armored vehicle, there are other widows on the bike too, you're actually surprised of what they are capable of, it seems like Nat really must be one hell of an assassin.

Everything is going well until the three of you are welcomed by traffic, and suddenly a widow shoots the wheel of her motorcycle, while Natasha and Yelena crash into a car. You got out of your vehicle and followed the two, seeing Yelena pointing a gun at a man to make him get out of the car.

"You can't just steal a guy's car?" Natasha commented while Yelena got in the car first, then you're all panicking and shit, you followed Yelena inside and realized you sat down on her lap. "Well, Stark stole a bike earlier." She says while looking confused with you on her lap.

"I am panicking, it's my first time experiencing all this." You defended yourself, Natasha finally got inside and started to drive the car. "Y/N, are you alright?" Natasha asked, rolling your eyes by hearing that question for the nth time.

Suddenly you get dizzy, is it because you're probably panicking too much? Or the fact that all you've done the whole week was to run either from authorities or trained assassins. Your vision started to get all blurry, and you can't understand anything that Nat or Yelena was saying at the moment.

And you passed out due to the stress you've been feeling.

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You felt a sudden pain in your left arm and that woke you up, quickly sitting down you notice you're in a cramped and small space, is this the morgue? Are you dead? You placed a hand on your chest and released a relieved sigh when you felt your heart beating.

"It's been a year, Stark, you passed out while we're on the run," Yelena spoke, a hand on your shoulder trying to comfort. "What? No, that can't be-"

"Yelena, stop." As soon as you hear Natasha's voice, you feel safe, and you didn't notice that you were laying your head on her lap when you collapsed. "What happened?" You ask the two.

"Psycho comes back and shoots another RPG, hence why you're injured and we're hiding in this air vent." Nat simply explained and ran your hands on your hair. "How long was I out?" Asking once again. "Less than 10 minutes," Yelena answered. "I'm sorry…" you softly spoke.

"It's alright, it's normal that you reacted the way you did." Natasha comforts you, then to your surprise she takes your hand and intertwines your fingers with her. "I'm glad that the two of you are safe." You say as you hold on tight to Nat's hand.

"It still doesn't make sense, I killed Dreykov, dropped an entire building on him," Natasha spoke, Yelena looked at her before scoffing. "Truth doesn't really make sense when you only omit key details, what happened to Dreykov's daughter?"

"She was collateral damage, I had to take her down too," Natasha admitted. You felt the guilt in her when she admitted, then you suddenly remember how she and Clint would joke about Budapest.

"Wait… you and Clint joke about exploding a child?" You look at Natasha who's looking at the floor. "Sometimes using humor to cope helps, Y/N," Nat says, then you remember how much your father joked about what happened in New York, you think it's quite… valid?

"This is quite cozy for some air vent." You say trying to change the topic of the conversation, you moved your ass to sit down next to Nat, your head subconsciously resting on her shoulder. "Clint and I stayed up here for 2 days." She says, fiddling with your fingers and resting her head on top of yours.

"I'll see if we're good to go." Yelena says before opening the entrance of the vent, then she went back in the subway, now you and Nat are alone. "Are you ok–" Natasha was about to ask the same question she asked you for the whole day.

"Nat, no, I'm actually not, I'm fucking scared, and I feel like anytime Ross is going to be here or that Dreykov's special project is after us or the other widows." You let out, Natasha looks at you, then noticing that you just shed a tear, you are scared. Fearing that one of you get to be thrown in jail, or get killed because of some mind-controlled assassins.

"Y/N, you're doing great for someone whose first time being on the run, I know it's all hard to take in and if only we went our separate ways, you wouldn't have been dragged into this." She lets go of your hand, instead, she places her hand on your cheek once again, wiping the teardrop on your skin.

"If we've gone our separate ways I wouldn't last a day without you, I'm probably chilling with Wanda and Clint, I'm not saying they're not good company, but I don't want to be in jail." You say, and Natasha nodded. "I know what you mean, Y/N, I know…"

Then you notice the distance between the two of you, faces an inch apart, the two of you can feel each other's breath once again, and your eyes trailed down on her lips which Natasha noticed.

"That's also me saying I wouldn't last a day without you." You confessed, before resting your forehead against hers, Natasha was expecting you to kiss her, but being this close to you, she doesn't really mind, as long it's you she's doing it with.

Natasha stayed quiet, as she enjoyed the peacefulness of this moment, then she slightly pulled away from you to place a chaste kiss on your forehead, and she held both of your arms, wrapping them around her neck, now her arms made their way to your waist.

Burying her face at the crook of your neck while she holds you tight and close, you shut your eyes as the two of you embrace each other. While in the middle of the calm and serene moment, the lid of the air vent came off then. "We're good to go and we've got to be quick!" Then the two of you get off each other, if Nat gets to kiss you before you fall off the bridge, pretty sure you can kiss her before getting off the vent.

"Nat, wait…" You hold her arm since she's about to go down first, and she looks at you over her shoulders, you move closer to her before crashing your lips against hers, you softly bite her lower lip before slowly pulling away, and you see a smile on her face as she hopped down.

"Did you two just?" Yelena looks at Natasha, cringing with what her sister just did, Nat waits for you to get down before following Yelena. "Do we not talk about that too?" You ask Natasha before following her, and she looks at you with a smirk.

"Depends on what you want to talk about," Natasha replied, then you raised a brow at her response, you jogged leaving her behind and catching up with Yelena. "I will act like you didn't just kiss my sister a second ago so that we can communicate without me remembering that," Yelena says.

You chuckle, yet you smile at what she just said. "Is your sister usually annoying like that?" You ask Yelena while pointing your thumbs at Natasha, then the two of you look over your shoulders to see her.

"Ah, yes, I don't know what runs through her head," Yelena replied, while Natasha on the other hand, looks at the two of you not knowing what the hell you two were talking about.

Let's say that she's hoping and praying that Yelena doesn't say something about her in front of you.

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After staying in the vent and managing to run away from the Task Master, the three of you ended up in a convenience store in the middle of nowhere, you bought some alcohol, and bandages to properly care for your wound, and Yelena looked around the store for an alcoholic drink.

"Where is the Red Room?" Natasha asked while she's washing her hands on the sink, Yelena shrugged and shook her head. "I don't know, every widow is sedated at every entrance and exit for maximum security," Yelena replied, as she took a look at some bottled alcohol, then tossed it to you.

"Where do you think I was after all this time?" Yelena asked Natasha, the latter faced her younger sister, and she looked at her. "I thought you're living a normal life," Natasha answered, you take the items they took and head to the cashier to pay for them.

"And you never bothered to check on me?" Yelena says, Natasha followed you at the front, yet she didn't leave the store yet. "I thought you never wanted to see me." She told Yelena, and the latter rolled her eyes then scoffed.

"Just say you don't want your baby sister to tag along and save the world with the cool kids," Yelena says with a smirk on her face, and Natasha clenches her jaw. "You're not really my sister–"

"And the Avengers aren't really your family, well… except for Stark, she stayed with you after all this running," Yelena commented, and suddenly she changed the topic. "Why do you always do that thing?" And Nat looks at her with a questioning look.

"Oh, that thing!" You butted in, then you do the infamous Black Widow pose, Yelena nodded giving you a thumbs up for knowing what she means. "You're a poser, Natasha," Yelena commented, then Nat raised a brow. "I'm not a poser." The latter says.

"It's okay if you're a poser, it's just that you think that everybody is looking at you." Natasha retorted, and you chuckle at the bantering between the two. "All the time I spent on posing, I was doing something good, to make up for all the pain and suffering we've caused." The mood changes real quick, now you stay silent.

"Well, pain and suffering is every day and we'll always be the trained killer that we are," Yelena says, the guy at the cashier hands the plastic bag containing all the items you bought, and you leave the store first. Natasha followed after and taking the bag from your hands, you looked at her who seemed exhausted from all the events happening.

"Do you want something to eat or drink?" You nodded, Nat signs you to follow her, and after a little bit of walking, with Yelena behind the two of you, the three of you arrived in a small food place.

You sat down then Natasha went inside, ordering cheeseburgers only for you, and beers for all of you, she sat down next to you, while Yelena settled in front of you two.

"An older widow freed me, and I killed her," Yelena says as she takes a sip from her beer, Natasha unwrapped the cloth on your arm, and she tends your wound while listening to Yelena. "Did you have a choice?" You ask her, and she only shook her head as an answer. "Then it's not your fault," Natasha says.

Yelena's eyes shifted at the family going home across the place you three are drinking, she seemed to like the view of what seems to be a happy and functional family. "Have you ever looked for your parents, the real ones?" Natasha looked at the latter as soon as she finished putting a bandage on your wound.

"I got abandoned on the street like garbage, I don't think I have a reason to look for them," Natasha says then she takes a good sip at her drink before asking Yelena the same question. "Well, they ruined my birth certificate so I made a new one." She said with a smile, and Nat seemed to brighten up.

"It says that I still live in Ohio, I have an older sister who moved to the west and she works as a science teacher, but she started working part-time when she had her son, and she has a husband who is a construction work–" Natasha halted Yelena speaking when she chuckled at her story. "That's definitely not my story," Nat says, then Yelena leaned back on her seat.

"Yeah, what is your story?" Yelena asked, and without you knowing, Natasha looks at you while you're spacing out. "Well, I don't really have a story, I don't have much to think about it alone," Nat answered. "But if I'm pretty sure it involves another person, who's a Stark?" Yelena teased, and with the mention of your last name, you look at the latter.

"What about you? What is your story?" Yelena says, then you wipe your mouth with the tissue before speaking. "Well, I was created because of my father's one of many hookups, lived with my grieving mother while I was an infant and she's grieving cause Dad won't marry her, so she left me at his doorstep, we did DNA tests to prove that I was really his and now he loves me more than anything." You say, smiling at the memory of your father who did everything he could to raise you.

"Then why aren't you with him?" Yelena asked once more, you look at Nat for a bit before answering. "Because I chose to do what I think is right, and probably did follow my heart." The blonde chuckled, noticing that Natasha was blushing at what you've just said.

"I have a plan." Natasha suddenly spoke, you and Yelena looked at the redhead. "Is it killing Dreykov and taking down the Red Room?" Yelena told Nat, and she earned a nod from Nat. "Even if he's way too slippery to kill and Red Room's impossible to find?" She nodded once again.

"Sounds like a shit load of work," Yelena says, making you and Nat chuckle. "Yup," Nat replied and Yelena took another sip at her beer. "Could be fine though." You say as you take the final bite of your burger. "Yup,'' Yelena said.

"I saw where he put the keys," Natasha says as she looked at the car, that the man of the family parked in the garage, the three of you smiled before speaking in unison.

"Top drawer green cabinet."

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:⠀ *⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

Next Part: To Make Action

taglist: @snooy245 @madamevirgo @nightingalxx

[albertasunrise]

Just Another Conquest - Part 1

Masterlist

Warnings: You were sweet, innocent and completely infatuated with Javier Peña. After an incident at the Christmas party, you become the talk of the secretary's at the embassy and everything starts falling around you.

Pairings: Javier Peña x Reader, Reader x Original Male Character

Warnings: Angst, Kissing, Mentions of sex

Notes: There are some touchy subjects at the end of this chapter. If you’re easily triggered this might not be for you. Don’t wanna add too many tags as it’ll spoil it.

For two years you had worked at the embassy as a secretary. You kept your head down and your nose out of trouble and so no one noticed you.

Except Greg.

Greg was sweet. You’d been on a few dates and you were taking it steady. Too many times you had jumped in headfirst into the flames and gotten burned so this time you were going to take things slow, Glacial, but Greg didn’t seem to mind. Greg was sweet.

Someone who wasn't sweet.

Javier Peña.

He had bedded most of the single or unmarried secretaries in the embassy. Even some of the married ones. He flirted with everyone. Well everyone except you and even though that stung a little you were glad. He couldn’t tarnish you if he couldn’t see you.

You’d been infatuated with the man from day dot at the embassy. He was a smooth talker and painfully handsome but you knew you weren’t his type. You were plain, a little on the chubbier side and uninteresting. You'd seen some of the women he’d slept with. Your apartment was across from his and they were all beautiful. The polar opposite of you.

It was the day of the Christmas office party. An event you looked forward to as it gave you a chance to dress up a little. Greg had bought you a stunning dress for the event, something you’d spotted in the window of a shop one day and told him you liked it. He’d managed to find out your size and had snuck back to buy it for you and you had swooned. No one had done anything like that for you before.

The dress fit perfectly. Highlighted all the right parts of you and for once you actually felt pretty. You did some simple makeup, pinned your hair up in a loose bun and wore the only pair of heels you could walk in. Greg was there to collect you when you were done, his jaw dropping to the floor when you emerged from your apartment building and you chuckled at his reaction. You both then got a taxi to the embassy and he had been unable to keep his eyes off of you or his lips from yours. Maybe tonight was the night that you’d let him into your bed.

You arrived a short while later and made your way inside, people excitedly bussing around you as you made your way to where the party was being held. The hall in the embassy had been decorated in traditional American fashion. Tinsel, baubles and lights adorned the walls and a large, audacious, tree sat in the centre of the room with presents surrounding its base. You gazed around in awe of what you were seeing and Greg couldn’t stop watching at you.

Little did you know, neither could Javier Peña.

He had spotted you as soon as you’d entered. He had seen you around over the past few years but until now had never spared you a second glance. He watched you as you entered with Greg from accounts. He’d spoken to Greg a handful of times and he always seemed nice enough, if not a little dull. His attention was so stuck on you that he didn’t even hear Steve talking his ear off until his name was shouted in frustration. Pulling the agent from his fancy.

“Oh no, you leave that one alone.” Growled Steve when he noticed who Javier was staring at.

“What… why?”

“Because I know what you’re like and she’s sweet. She has worked hard to keep herself out of the limelight and you paying her any sort of attention will destroy that completely.” Stated Steve, downing that last of his drink as he watched you head to the bar with your companion “Besides she’s dating Greg anyway.”

“Greg’s dull.” Mumbled Javier and Steve barked out a laugh.

“Greg is nice and perfect for her.” Asserted the blonde agent “Leave her alone.” He warned and Javier simply rolled his eyes, waving his partner off as he stood.

‘Another.’ He asked as he lifted his empty glass and Steve nodded before turning his head to seek out his wife in the bustle of people beside him.

Javier watched you as he approached the bar, taking you in as he came to a stop a few stools over. The dress you wore fitted your form beautifully, highlighting your small waist and larger breasts. You had a perfect hourglass figure and he practically salivated at the sight, wanting nothing more than to worship every inch of you but you were forbidden fruit. Which made it all the harder to resist you.

You hadn’t noticed Javier watching you but Greg had and he felt resentment start to simmer beneath the surface of his skin. If Agent Peña had set his sights on you then he had no chance. No one could resist that man's charms. He was relieved however to see that you remained blissfully unaware of the man’s attentions so he did his best to keep yours on him.

“They’ve done a wonderful job with the decorations huh?” He spoke as he wrapped his arm around your waist and you nodded eagerly in reply “You’re the most beautiful thing here though.”

“Oh shush Greg.” You chuckled, you’d never been very good at taking a compliment.

“No seriously.” He said as he gazed longingly at you “These last few months have been… Well they’ve been wonderful and I know you want to take things slow and that’s fine. Just know that when you are ready, I will make sure to show you just how beautiful I think you are.”

You swooned at his statement but Javier scoffed and then as the narrative repeated in his mind he became intrigued. The two of you hadn’t slept together? How serious can you really be if you’ve never fucked? So he decided you were fair game. God help him, he was going to taste those lips before the night was done.

…

“Would you like another?” Javi asked you as he motioned to your empty glass.

You jumped at the sudden question, turning your head to see Javier Peña staring back at you. A mixture of thoughts and emotions rushed through you at once but the one that lingered was lust. The way the man opposite you was looking at you went straight to your core and you found you were losing yourself in his dark chocolate orbs.

“Oh uh… Yes please.” You fumbled, the shock of your current situation lingering.

“You look lovely.” He said sweetly as he motioned at the barman to refresh yours and his drinks “A little different to your usual get up.”

“How would you know what I usually wear?” You questioned, a little taken aback by his statement.

“I’ve seen you around.” He stated, shrugging his shoulders.

“Right.” You sniggered, taking a sip from your new drink “Thanks for the drink, Agent Peña.” You finished as you turned to leave only to be stopped by his hand grasping your arm.

“Call me Javi.’ He said softly as he smiled at you.

“Well, thank you again Javi but I must be getting back to my date.” Giving him a last nod you sauntered away, unable to miss the scowl plastered across Greg’s face.

“What did he want?” He asked as you came up beside him.

“He got me a drink.” You replied nonchalantly “That was all.”

“That isn’t all he wants from you.” He growled and your head shot back in shock at his change of tone.

“Greg, I am in no danger of attracting Javier Peña.” You snort, rolling your eyes at him.

“Have you seen how you look?” He snapped and you found yourself growing irritated.

“I have and I am not his type.” You spit “He’s only interested in slim, tall, perfect skinned beauties and I am none of those things Greg. You have nothing to worry about.”

Little did you know, he had plenty to worry about. As the evening went on the music started to die down and people began to say their goodnights, thinning the crowd down to the younger staff members of the embassy. Greg had remained possessive of you, noting how Javier would watch you as you danced with your friends or talked with other people from your department. He’d picked his prey and you were it. Greg, helpless to stop it.

“Would you like to dance Hermosa?” Came a deep voice from behind you and you shivered at the effect it had on you.

Turning you see Javier smiling down at you, his suit jacket long since discarded and tie also. He’d unfastened the top three buttons of his shirt and you couldn't help but lick your lips at the sight of his golden skin beneath. Then suddenly your brain caught up with the rest of you and you shook your head as you looked back up at the man that was towering over you.

“I shouldn’t.” You replied, shaking your head as you looked around nervously “I should get back to Greg.”

“Greg is stuck in a deep conversation with a bunch of other accountants.” He countered, taking one of your hands in his “Just one dance. Will be perfectly innocent I promise.”

You tried to find another reason to say no, anything, but you were coming up blank and so you were unable to resist when he pulled you gently towards the dance floor. The song was slow, soft and you glanced around at the other couples close to each other, slowly swaying to the music.

“Relax.” The agent whispered against the shell of your ear and you shivered,

“Why are you doing this Javi?” You questioned, looking up into his eyes.

“Doing what?” He asked with a mildly bemused expression on his face.

“This. Dancing with me, paying me any form of attention.” You elaborated and his brow furrowed “We both know I’m not your type so this isn’t some ploy to get me to sleep with you, or at least I hope it's not. You’ve never spoken to me before tonight so why? What’s this all about?”

“How do you know what my type is?” He questioned, dark eyes watching you closely.

“Because I live across the hall from you and so have seen many of your conquests leave. All thin and beautiful which I am not.” You chuckled to yourself, glancing at Steve who watched the two of you.

“Well firstly, I think you are beautiful.” He stated and you rolled your eyes “Really, you don’t believe me?”

“I believe you’re a smooth talker that’s good at getting women to fall in love with him.” He snorted at the, glancing at Steve a moment before returning his attention to you “I know I’m not beautiful.” You shrug “I came to terms with that a long time ago but I don’t like to be teased or played with. So if this is some sort of game or bet. Please don’t involve me.” You pleaded and Javier felt his heart ache a little that you’d think such a thing.

“This is no game Hermosa.” He said softly “I like you and I wanted to dance with you.” He continued, bringing one hand up to cup your cheek “That's all that is going on here.”

“You like me?” You questioned, unable to help the squeak in your voice.

He nodded as he smiled at you and then time seemed to stand still. Your eyes flitted to his lips as you gazed at each other, the world around you falling away as Javier Peña cupped your face and kissed you softly. You didn't react for a moment, shocked that this is even happening and then you responded, kissing him back as your hands gripped his wrists and when he pulled away, all eyes were on you.

“Can I take you home Hermosa?” He asked quietly as he gazed at you, smiling when you nodded in reply and then he was leading you out. Greg and the party were all forgotten.

…

“I hope you don’t expect me to sleep with you this evening.” You chuckled, smiling shyly at the man driving you.

“A man can always hope.” He replied, glancing at you a moment before returning his attention to the road.

“Well, I’m not that easy.” You stated, sticking your tongue out at him playfully which elicited a throating laugh from the agent "I like to be wooed first."

You loved his laugh. It brought you all new waves of pleasure to hear it but as your building seeped into view, along with a familiar-looking truck parked out front, the realisation hit you like a freight train.

“Oh my god.” You sobbed as you hopped out of his truck, clutching your middle as you cried.

“Hermosa what’s wrong?” Asked Javier, his tone panicked as he sprinted to your side.

“Greg.” You choked and he noticed you staring at the vehicle parked in front of his “I kissed you, and I left him there. What… Why would I do that?”

Javier pulls you into his arms, holding you as you cried over the relationship you know you had destroyed. He pulled you with him, taking you inside and into his apartment where he sat you down on his couch and poured you a drink.

“Thank you.” You hiccuped as you took the drink from him, staring at the glass as he sat beside you “I liked Greg.” You started, eyes not wavering from your glass “He was sweet. Liked me for me and I’d never had that before. All my previous boyfriends wanted one thing and I got burned so much I gave up on the idea that someone could want more with me.”

“You have to go through some hurt to find the right man.” Javier replied, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you close “You’ll find him I’m sure. You deserve happiness.”

You sat there and talked for a little longer. Until your eyes were so heavy you could no longer keep them open and when Javier noticed you dosing off, he scooped you into his arms and carried you to his bed. He didn’t try anything. Just simply held you and it was the best sleep he’d had in years.

~

You had no idea you’d be the talk of the office when you returned from the holidays. Greg hadn’t spoken to you since that night and neither had Javi. You’d snuck out the next morning before he’d woken up, mortified that you’d fall asleep at his. You knew you hadn't had sex with him but you’d still slept with him and that brought on all kinds of different emotions. Did he like you the way you like him?

“So how was it?” Asked Kirsten as sat down at your desk, her eyebrows lifting.

“How was what?” You asked, your confusion evident in your features.

“Your hot night with agent Peña.” She elaborated and you almost choked on your coffee “You did fuck him right?”

“No, I didn’t.” You expelled, already feeling sick to the stomach at the realisation you were the talk of the office.

“Oh come on.” She rolled her eyes at your denial “No one goes home with Javier Peña without him having his way with them. You’re so lucky.” She sighed “Although poor Greg left with his tail between his legs. No one blames you for going to the better dish though… Javi is quite the meal.”

You abruptly grabbed your bag and stood from your chair, not stopping to pick it up as it clattered on the stone floor. All you could think about was getting out of there, and fast. You couldn’t miss the sniggering as you swiftly left the office, only to be stopped by two hands grabbing your shoulders.

“Woah what's up?” Asked Greg as he pulled you to the side.

“I uh… everyone's laughing at me.” You sobbed, eyes skirting around and catching peoples stares.

“What did you expect when you went home with Agent Peña.” He scoffed and you looked up at him with a broken expression “All those months clearly meant nothing to you as you dropped your panties for him the moment he called.”

“What? No… I didn’t sleep with him.” You assured, head shaking tears loose from your eyes “I swear to you I didn’t. He kissed me and that’s it.”

“Didn’t see you pushing him away.” He growled and your stomach sank “Despite what you pulled, I still care about you so I will have a word with the others. Just try to keep your head down from now on yeah?”

You nodded, sniffing as you watched him walk away but as you looked around you could see that everyone was still looking at you, talking about you.

You needed to leave.

Your sprinted to the elevators, uncaring of anyone else's attention and pressed the button vigorously, willing it to arrive. You didn’t even look when it opened, just shuffled inside and pressed the button for the parking level. You’d explain later why you’d left.

“Everything okay?” Came a soft Southern voice and you turned your head to see Steve beside you “Rough day?”

“Putting it lightly.” You replied, letting out a watery chuckle as you threw your head into your hands.

“I told Javi to leave you alone. Fucking prick.”

“No this is all my fault.” You sobbed as you looked up at him “Javi was sweet. I should really talk to him but today isn’t the day. Right now I need to go home and wallow.”

“Well, you can do that together if you like.” He chuckled and you looked at him in confusion “He ended up taking today off.

“Right.” You replied as you pulled your bag tighter over your shoulder as you exited the lift and headed towards your car.

Maybe you should speak to him today.

…

You’d more or less talked yourself out of it by the time you'd made it back to your apartment building. You pulled into your allotted parking spot, sprinted up the stairs and made it to your front door, only to be stopped by a familiar voice.

“What are you doing back?” He asked and you turned to face him, noting how his brows were drawn together in concern.

“I uh… Well, let's just say I’m the talk of the office.” You replied plainly as you pulled out your key, desperate to escape this inevitable conversation.

“Why?” He asked and you looked at him again in amazement.

Did this guy seriously have no clue?

“Well, let's see Javi. I turned up at this year's Christmas party with Greg, the guy I was seeing and then left with you after you kissed me in front of all of our colleagues. Why do you think that I’m the subject for office gossip?” You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest as you awaited his response.

“We didn’t sleep together thought?”

“They don’t know that” You replied, rolling your eyes at him “So that’s what everyone assumed happened. That I waited months to take that step with Greg but one kiss from you and I give you what you want.”

“I’m sorry Hermosa.” He replied, his eyes taking on a sad puppy dog quality that immediately had your anger melting away.

“Why aren’t you at work today Javi?” You questioned as your body language relaxed and you turned to put your key in the door.

“One of my informants died.” He announced and you immediately turned to look at him “She uh… Well, she was ratted in by one of her colleagues. We found her last night mutilated and raped.”

“Oh Javi, I’m… I’m so sorry.” You replied as you gave him a sympathetic look, your heart breaking from the pain that was so evident on his face “Did you want to come in?” You asked innocently and he nodded, taking the hand you offered and following you inside.

Little did you know that this time, you really would give Javi what he wanted. You talked, you consoled each other, you kissed and then finally when the kissing became heated and passionate you fucked him, allowing your own troubles to be dissolved by pleasure. You allowed yourself to lose yourself in him and he buried himself in you to escape himself but when all was done and you lay their sated in his arms you started to wonder.

Maybe he did like you.

~

It doesn’t take long for word to spread around the office that you had fucked Javier Peña now. Someone else who lived in the building overhearing your activities and telling the entire office the following day so when you’d turned up the following feeling more relaxed, it was quickly ripped away from you.

“So decided to skive off for a fantastic fuck with Javi Peña eh?” Kirsten asked as she winked at you, the colour completely draining from your face “You lying slut though. I knew you were shagging him.”

“I uh…”

“Oh no use in denying it, you were heard. You’re apparently pretty vocal in the sack.” She sniggered as the other girls in the office started to chuckle along with her “Oh Javi.” She mocked “Oh Javi yes… just there-“

You left before she could finish her berating, tears streaming down your cheeks as you made your way through the halls to the bathrooms in the hope you could cry alone in there but sure enough, you were not to be so lucky. Greg grabbed you as you tried to scurry past but there was no sympathy in those blue orbs anymore, nothing but anger.

“You fucking slut.” He growled, eyes burning you “I courted you for months. Treated you right and the first moment you get you fuck man whore Peña?” He spat and you flinched at his outburst “You just used me. Did you even fucking like me?”

“Yes, Greg.” You sobbed, fat tears flowing freely now “I did like you... I do even. I like you a lot, I swear I didn’t use you.”

“But you couldn’t resist opening your legs for Javier Peña.” He growled, snarling at you as he watched your face crumble “You know he doesn’t commit so good luck regaining any credibility you had here.” He finished, leaving you sobbing in his wake.

You quickly sprinted through the halls, people's mocking laughter filling your ears but you just pushed forward. You looked up a moment and that's when you caught eyes with him, the man from which all this trouble had stemmed from and you stopped, giving him a hopeful look as he grabbed your arm and pulled you to one side.

“What's the matter?”

“You seriously the only person in the embassy not to hear the latest gossip?” You asked, noticing the genuine confusion that spread across his face.

“We were heard Javi.” You explained, wiping your cheeks with your sleeves “Someone heard us and has told everyone.” You sobbed, face leaning into his hand as he cupped your cheek “But you can set everyone straight, tell them that this is different? I mean, it was different right?” You asked, eyes pleading for him to soothe your worries.

“Hermosa…” He trailed off as he dropped his hand and shook his head, your stomach dropping “Hermosa I-.”

“You said you like me.” You choked, eyes growing wide as you shook your head in disbelief “That I’m beautiful.”

“I do and you are.” He assured you “But I’m not a commitment guy.” He paused and you felt sick “What we did was just two friends comforting each other. Nothing more.”

You can’t believe it. How had you gone and done this again? You’d given yourself to someone body and soul only to be stomped on again. You were a fool and you knew it. There was never going to be a chance of Javier Peña want more than to bury himself in you. You were plain. Simple.

Ordinary.

You left without another word. Darting into the nearest bathroom where you emptied the contents of your stomach before crying yourself dry. When you did finally emerge you were called into your manager's office and were instantly told to take some time. You had some leave to take so they advised you to take it. Let the scandal die down a little. You couldn’t be the talk of the office forever.

So you do. You take the two months you accrued and you leave, numb the entire drive back to your apartment. You thought about going home, actually taking a vacation but then you’ve never been one for adventure. You don’t have anyone back home. No family or friends to speak of so you decide to spend it here. At home. Wallowing in your own self-pity.

~

2 months later…

Javier had noticed your absence and he’d also noticed that you never left your apartment. At least you never left it when he was around to see it. He knew you were due back today, one of the other secretaries informing him that your leave had ended so why weren’t you here? It wasn’t like you to be late. You were always in before most of the other office admins were, sipping your coffee as you went through your daily schedule.

No one else seemed to be worried about your absence. A few assuming you’d forgotten that you were due to come back but they were a little surprised when Agent Peña had started asking around for you. Everyone knew that things between you and him had crashed and burned, your very public refusal being the next hot topic for the weeks that followed. So when he came up short with your colleagues he went to your boss, his worry growing by the minute.

“I’m not sure why it matters to you where she is.” Stated your boss as they continued to skim through the paperwork in front of them “It’s because of you that she ended up taking leave.”

“I understand that but…”He paused a moment, trying to carefully plan what he needed to say “She lives opposite me. I’ve not seen her leave in two months or even heard a peep from her apartment. I know that her suffering is my doing but I do care about her well being.”

“Well, you should have thought about her well being before you dragged her name through the dirt.”

“Do you know where she is?” He growled, growing more and more impatient by the second.

“Yes, I do.” They replied plainly.

“So?”

“She’s in the hospital.” Javier’s eyes shot open, stomach dropping as he stared at the older woman across from him.

“What… what happened?” He asked although he wasn’t sure he wanted to know.

“I can’t tell you that.” She stated and he let out a frustrated sigh

“Is she at least going to be okay?”

“She’s in a bad way.” She paused as she finally placed the documents in her hands down “If you want to see her I can’t stop you. Just know… it is very likely that she won’t want to see you.”

She told the agent where you were and watched as he left, knowing that deep down he had a right to know what had happened to put you there.

…

A few flashes of his badge and he was soon led to your room, stopping the doctor as he left your room and demanding he be told what was wrong. He could see that you were sleeping inside and he felt himself ease a little seeing that you weren’t bloody and beaten. So what was wrong?

“She was poisoned.” The doctor explained in Spanish and Javier felt his anxiety shoot through the roof again.

“Poisoned?” He asked “How? By who?”

“By herself.” The doctor stated and Javier’s stomach dropped.

Had he really hurt you that badly?

“She tried to terminate her pregnancy using an old home remedy.” The doctor elaborated and Javier jumped at that.

“Pregnancy?”

“Yes.” The doctor nodded “She is around 2 months pregnant.”

Javier knew instantly it was his and a mixture of emotions coursed through him. Why had you not come to him? Why did you feel like this was the right thing to do? If there was a baby involved he would do what was right. You had to know that right?

“She is sedated.” The doctor continued “The baby survived. The remedy did not work but it did nearly kill her. She was hysterical when she arrived. Begging us to save it.” He paused, glancing at you before returning his attention to Javier “I don’t think she really wanted to get rid of it. She was just desperate and scared. She should be okay though. We will continue to monitor her and the baby. ”

Javier nodded before stepping aside so the Doctor could leave. His mind was racing as he stepped inside of your hospital room and taking a seat at your side. He would wait. Wait until you woke up and he would talk to you. He needed to understand why you did this. Why you felt you had no other option.

…

You were shocked to find Peña dosing in the chair beside your bed when you woke up. How did he even know you were here? Your head was pounding and your mouth dry so you turned your head to find the bottle of water a nurse had brought you earlier, only to knock it when you went to grab it. The agent woke instantly and you groaned in frustration. You didn’t need his lecture right now.

“Hey.” He said softly as he grabbed the bottle and opened it before bringing it to your lips “How are you feeling?”

You shrugged as you sipped the water, relishing how it soothed your sore throat and dry tongue. You nodded when you’d had your fill and watched as he screwed the lid back on and placed it back on the table.

“What are you doing her Javier?” You rasped and he flinched at your inquiry.

“I was worried about you.” He stated, sad eyes locking with yours “The doctor said you and the baby are going to be okay.” He said with a smile and your eyes started to water.

“So you know?”

“Yes.” He replied plainly “He also told me you tried to get rid of it.” He paused, stroking away a tear that escaped from your eye “Why?”

“Because I knew you wouldn’t want it.” You replied, lip trembling as you spoke “And I didn't want to raise it on my own.” You paused, watching him process your words before you go for the jugular “Besides, I was just another one of your conquests. Can't go tarnishing your record and I’ve destroyed my reputation enough. Having your baby will just destroy whatever integrity I have left.”

“So what are you going to do?” He asks, stomach twisting.

“I’m going to leave Javier.” You said plainly “I will leave and I will raise this baby on my own. No one will ever need to know you have a bastard child with one of your many whores. I want nothing from you so you can go now.”

“Hermosa I-“

“Leave.” You growled, angry tears staining your cheeks “I’m giving you the out you want. Take it.”

Part 2

[allyreactions]

NCT Dream Headcanon | Unrequited Love { Huang Renjun }

MASTERLIST // requests : open

! please read my guidelines before requesting !

A/N : I'm so pumped for Dream's newest comeback. Glitch Mode is gonna hit, I just know it. they always deliver.

♡ pairings ; Renjun x gender neutral reader

♡ genre ; unrequited love, some fluff, angst

♡ warnings ; none, but it gets really sad towards the end

♡ word count ; 0.7k+

"⇢ when Renjun likes someone, everything else goes out the window

⇢ all he can see is you

⇢ which is probably why he never picked up on the fact that you were interested in someone else

⇢ he might have a hunch here and there

⇢ just doubting whether or not you're into him in the same way he's interested in you

⇢ the two of you had been friends for years

⇢ and while things mostly stayed platonic, that didn't stop any playful banter

⇢ "Y/N, what do you think of my new hairstyle for our comeback?" Renjun asked

⇢ "I think it really suits you! It's super hot! No wonder you've got tons of girls swooning all over you." you'd respond

⇢ the two of you were some comfortable around each other

⇢ at lunch, you would never flinch when he wipes the ketchup from the corner of your mouth

⇢ "Y/N, that ketchup could have gotten all over your clothes." Renjun groaned

⇢ 'what would I do without you?" you laughed, still chewing on your burger

⇢ and Renjun would never cringe when you plucked the stray eyelash off his cheek

⇢ "hold still for me. this has been bothering me all afternoon" you'd say

⇢ all of these signs made him believe that you might have feelings for him

⇢ even though he thought he hid his attraction to you well, the other members would tease him about it

⇢ "hey Jeno! did you see the way Renjun was looking at Y/N at lunch?" Jaemin teased

⇢ "haha yeah! boy's got it down bad!" Jeno laughed

⇢ but one day, he finally mustered up enough courage to confess his feelings to you

⇢ he had it all planned out

⇢ he had to plan it out

⇢ confessing to your best friend could either go really bad, or really good

⇢ on one hand, you could end up happily ever after (Renjun's ideal scenario)

⇢ or your friendship could be damaged forever (Renjun's worst nightmare)

⇢ so he devised a plan to casually bring it up while the two of you went on a walk through the park

⇢ and he still had some doubts about your feelings, so he didn't want to completely fall on his face if you didn't feel the same

⇢ so he felt that casually bringing it up would make him feel a little better, because he can subtly change the subject if things go wrong

⇢ "Y/N, has Jisung told you about his new girlfriend?"

⇢ "yeah! I spoke with Chenle about it. she seems really sweet. I'm happy for him" you replied, kicking the stones on the sidewalk

⇢ "what about you? are you interested in anyone?" Renjun asked softly, avoiding eye contact out of nervousness

⇢ "I don't know ... I've sorta got a crush on someone, but I'm don't think it'll go anywhere else." you said casually

⇢ Renjun coulda sworn his heart skipped a beat

⇢ "if you don't mind me asking who is it? do I know them?" he asked almost too quickly

⇢ "why do you wanna know?"

⇢ "just curious I guess .. and we always tell each other everything." Renjun answered

⇢ "promise you won't tell anyone? pinky promise?" you said, extending your pinky finger

⇢ "promise." he said as he wrapped his pinky finger around yours

⇢ "it's Mark ... I know I know ... it's dumb. but it's just a crush, it's not important. it'll never go further than that." you confessed

⇢ Renjun's heart shattered into a million pieces

⇢ he was so sure, so hopeful you were about to admit your feelings for him

⇢ and even though he felt like crumbling into a ball and hiding from the world .. he pretended like nothing happened

⇢ he masked his pain and continued the conversation

⇢ "well, he'd be a lucky guy to have you. I know I would be." Renjun's words were heartfelt and all too honest

⇢ he would love for you to be his

⇢ but in a way, you kind of already are

⇢ you're his best friend, and he feels lucky enough to even know you, to even be around you

⇢ this is enough for him

⇢ it has to be enough, because otherwise he would lose you

⇢ "what about you? you got your eyes set on someone special?" you teased, bumping his arm

⇢ "not really.. " he lied

[kai-writes-fan-fiction]

In Hiding Part 2/?

Hey Buds! It’s me, Cay! This is part 2 of the Hiding Away series. I’m not super proud of it, but part 3 will be better. This was more or less a filler chapter, however, I hope you enjoy! Feedback is always greatly appreciated, and my requests are still open! Please, please, PLEASE send In prompts lol. (P.S. please excuse and spelling/grammar errors and typos, I had a migraine while writing this.)

Part one: https://imjustalurker12.tumblr.com/post/646379452336586752/in-hiding

Word count: 1000ish

Warnings: Talk of blood and needles, Non-graphic violence, no swearing in this one, a very bad cliffhanger

You were drifting in and out of consciousness, a bright light obscuring your view. You attempted to bring your arm up to shield your eyes from the blinding white light; however, you couldn’t move your arms. Your throat was sore so that you couldn't tell out. Your eyes still weren't fully adjusted to the light, so you couldn't see what was going on.

The only thing you knew is that you were lying on a hard surface supine, and you couldn't shift.

After a few more seconds of squinting, you lifted your head. You were strapped to a table by glowing blue cuffs. They must have something to do with the fact that you couldn't shift.

You had also been changed out of your clothes, blue scrubs in their place. An IV was in your right arm, and wires were coming from your chest, and you could also hear a constant beeping echoing throughout the room.

You began to squirm to remove yourself from the cuffs, but your actions were quickly noticed by a man in a lab coat staring at you from across the room. You recognized this man to be none other than Dr. Bruce Banner.

He looked up to you and smiled.

“Good morning, or should I say good afternoon (Y/N) (Y/L/N)! You slept for almost 12 hours! The Avengers really knocked you out, huh?”

You grimaced. That's right; the Avengers had caught you. It would seem that your “low profile jobs” weren't so low profile after all.

“Y’know, ” Bruce said, walking over to you, “you're a pretty hard person to find? (Y/N)” His brow furrowed. “Now, I need to take some blood.”

Needles really weren’t your thing, especially the long one Banner now held in his hands. You growled low; your powers were begging to come back and began squirming around. He rolled his eyes.

“Stop moving; it'll hurt less.” He mumbled.

Not convinced, you shifted uncontrollably. He tried to grab your arm, but his strength was no match for yours, which was slowly returning.

“Loki! Come do that magic thing!” Bruce yelled over his shoulder.

Loki then entered the lab, looked at you, and snarled.

“You're seriously not giving up? Stupid Midgaurdian child.” He hissed

He grabbed your arm, and you suddenly went limp.

“Thanks.” Banner said to Loki.

In return, Loki rolled his eyes and left the lab.

Inserting the needle into your arm, Banner sighed, “This would be easier for both of us if you stopped resisting.”

You clicked your tongue and grimaced. “Hmph.”

He sighed and walked away, leaving to examine your blood sample. He looked into the microscope and gasped. He picked up his phone and dialed a number.

“Stark, you need to get down here. Their blood- I've never seen anything like it. Her cells- just come down here.” He says into the receiver, pivoting his chair to look at your limp body once more.

Little did he know, you were beginning to gain your powers back. Loki's magic couldn't keep them at bay forever.

Five minutes later, you heard “BANNER!” being yelled at by Tony from the lab's entrance. “I’M HERE!”

You growled lowly, a sign of your powers becoming even stronger. You may be able to shift again within 5 minutes. You needed to plan your escape.

While Tony and Bruce babbled on, you began mapping the room. Practically the whole room was made out of glass, and it looked out onto the common room of the Avengers compound. You smiled to yourself, as it would be straightforward to bust out.

“What’re you smiling at, oh mighty blue one?” Stark taunted.

You turned back to him and narrowed your eyes in annoyance.

“My bad, kid!” He stuck his hands up in defense.

You went back to daydreaming about your escape, taking note of the woods surrounding the compound. After turning into an iron man suit, you’d break the glass and-

“Seriously, you’re grinning again.” Your thoughts were interrupted by a loud Tony Stark.

You turned to him and rolled your eyes.

“Does she not speak?” Tony asked Bruce, turning away from you.

“I haven't heard her yet; it’s not important.” Bruce sighs, still focused on your blood sample. “(Y/N), I need a piece of your hair.”

He walked over to you, and you grimaced when he tugged at a strand. He walked back to his microscope, placing the strand into a glass plate.

After a minute of staring at the strand, he whispered, “The blue, it’s natural!”

Duh, it was natural. All of the hair on your body was blue, and you can’t dye eyelashes. You gave an exasperated sigh and turned your head back to the windows, resuming the formulation of your plan. After you'd bust out, you'd shift into a-

“I'm sorry, is there something you need to say?” Asked an annoyed Tony.

You shook your head and returned to your thoughts as a reply. Tony wasn't satisfied.

“Speak now or forever hold your peace, princess.” He smirked, stepping towards you.

He was getting too close, and your powers still weren't fully replenished, but it was time to go. You grinned and flashed a pair of fangs before shifting into a wolf and out of your cuffs.

A startled Tony summoned his suit to overpower you, but you had already predicted such. You shifted into your suit and blasted the glass. It shattered immediately, and you flew out.

Once you reached the outdoors, you shifted into a cheetah, running far away from the compound. When you hit the woods, you morphed into a tree squirrel. There was no way they'd find you now, you thought. And maybe they wouldn't; read Part 3 to find out what happens next!

Tag list: @ooopsidaisy @moonbaejpeg @kinny-away @screechingshepherddeputygoth

@coollemonsaresour

Thanks for reading to then end! Please tell me if you want a part 3, I’m hoping it’s better than this one lol. Also I have school for a few days, so I may be a little longer when writing next parts and requests.

[bumblesimagines]

Green Thumb

Part 2

Request: Yes or No

For anyone confused, (Y/N) was around 17 when he fought the Avengers and was taken in and now he's 18-19. Lowkey a filler to develop/show (Y/N)'s relationship with Laura and Clint

~

You stared up at the large wooden house, a soft breeze blowing by that made you tugged down the sleeves of the sweater you were wearing. Clint turned off the engine of his motorcycle, looking up at you. You furrowed your brows and turned towards him, glancing at the darkening sky.

"What is this place?" You asked, watching him curiously Clint stood beside him, gazing fondly at the house. He looked at you with a gentle smile.

"My home."

"Home?"

"Yep, home. The only other people who know about this place are Fury and Natasha." Clint revealed, making your brows raise. You looked back at the house. It was homey for sure. Far from the city with nature surrounding it. A perfect place to raise a family and live a quiet life. You bit your bottom lip, gently wrapping your arms around yourself. 

"So, why’d you bring me here?" You asked. If it was such a big secret that not even Tony or Steve knew about it, why would he share it with you? You weren’t even part of the team. You were just a child that they had to take in. Clint placed a gentle hand on your back.

"You need some fresh air and a break from the shit back at the tower. Come meet my wife and kids." Clint said, walking towards the house. You slowly followed, still unsure about the whole thing. You didn’t know why Clint trusted you so much. Not even a couple weeks back, you had attempted killing him and the Avengers. You had heard Tony mention Clint having a habit of taking in strays so you assumed you were just another person Clint wanted to help. The aroma of food filled your senses, making you let out a soft hum. Clint had heard it, chuckling as he stepped into his home. You followed, noticing the pictures on the walls and scattered drawings. 

"Laura, I’m home!" Clint called out into the house, following the light from the kitchen. You noticed some legos laying around, looking up as a woman approached Clint and greeted him with a kiss.

"How was work?" She asked softly, smiling. You could see two kids looking at you curiously from the table. Clint smiled back at his wife, gently stroking her long hair. 

"It was fine, honey. I brought a guest." Clint motioned towards you. Laura looked at you, humming softly. Her smile widened as she faced you.

"You must be (Y/N). Welcome to the Barton Farm." Laura giggled softly, placing a hand on her belly. Your gaze dropped down, noticing her barely visible bump. Laura followed your gaze, chuckling softly.

"We’re- Well, more like Natasha is hoping for a little girl." Laura smiled, glancing at Clint when he placed a gentle hand on her bump. She looked back at (Y/N), motioning to the table. 

"Come join us."

You walked with Laura to the greenhouse, glancing over at Tony and Steve as they talked.

"How was your first mission?" Laura asked, smiling widely as she gazed at you curiously. You were supposed to go on a mission when your training was complete but nevertheless, it had been quite exciting. You smiled, looking forward.

"It was.. Good. It didn't go as planned, obviously, but there wasn't much of a plan to begin with. Clint's definitely holding a grudge against the runner." You chuckled, opening the door to the greenhouse and stepping inside. Some new flowers had been added.

"I don't blame him." Laura said, giggling as she pulled up a chair. She sat down, letting out a sigh of relief. Laura rested her hands on her belly, watching you with a gentle gaze.

"The girl.. The girl made Hulk lose his shit and made the others see stuff." You told her, picking up a pot with a venus flytrap inside. You gently ran your finger over the plant, watching it open.

"Did she get to you?"

"No, I.. I stopped her before she could do anything to me. Natasha seemed pretty shaken up by what she saw." You looked back at her, frowning softly. You had never seen Natasha look so broken inside. Whatever she had seen, it had definitely triggered some bad memories. You wondered what Wanda would've made you see. The orphanage? The fight with the Avengers?

"Clint mentioned you had to work on your people skills." Laura recalled, laughing softly as she tilted her head. "What's that about?"

"I might've choked.. A few people."

"Might've?" Laura repeated, raising her brows. You placed the pot down, letting out a soft sigh as you stared down at the venus flytrap.

"What's on your mind, sweetheart?" Laura asked softly, noticing the change. You gently pushed the pot back into its spot beside the other plants, shrugging lightly.

"Not that long ago, I was in their spot. Wanda and Pietro.. Two young metas trying to survive. With my powers, I could have seriously injured someone and-"

"But you didn't, did you? We're all standing on this plot of land, living and breathing." Laura stood up from the chair, holding onto it as she regained her balance. She walked towards you, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder.

"You were a frightened kid on survival mode. You were doing whatever you could to protect yourself." Laura said, gaze softening.

"Obviously, I could never hurt Thor or Hulk but... I almost crushed and suffocated everyone else. Tony had to work on his suit, Natasha and Clint had bruises for days.. Steve did that weird staring thing like a fucking camera whenever I was in the room." You reached forward, running a finger over the leaf of a plant and watching it grow.

"Look at yourself." Laura motioned to the plants. "You have full control of your powers. You know your limits. You're.. Mother Nature's son! Like, almost literally her son."

"I'm your son." You muttered, keeping your gaze on the plants. Laura stayed quiet, almost frozen in place. She slowly smiled, nodding as she blinked away tears.

"Yeah.. Yeah, you are. You're my son. You're a Barton." Laura said softly, sniffling softly. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

"I'm gonna go see if Stark is willing to check out the tractor. Holler if you need anything." Laura said, turning around. She left the greenhouse, walking back towards the house. You thought about her words, knowing what she said was true but things could've gone differently if you had been in full control of your powers during the confrontation with the Avengers. Clint had still offered you support despite it all.

You brought your knees close to your chest, hearing the sounds of the Avengers grunting and talking on the floor below. The overgrown vines in the abandoned building wrapped around the corner you were in, providing cover.

"Hey, kid? You up here?"

"Barton, what the hell are-"

"Shut up, Tony." You furrowed your brows, hearing sluggish footsteps on the floor you were at.

"This isn't the greatest hiding spot, kid." The voice, 'Clint', had gotten closer. He was most likely standing infront of you, the vines being the only thing keeping you from seeing him.

"Look, I know you're scared. I know the orphanage probably wasn't great either, but we can help you. I can help you. You can trust me." Clint assured softly. You swallowed, reaching out and touching the vines. They parted, letting you peer up at Clint. He offered a tired smile, extending his hand to you.

"You just made Laura the happiest woman alive." You turned towards Clint, chuckling softly. Clint pushed himself off the doorway, stepping inside.

"Must be nice to finally feel happy for once." You replied, grinning.

"Oh, trust me, you should've seen her face when I proposed." Clint chuckled, looking over the greenhouse. He hummed.

"Maybe I should get into gardening." He muttered, arms crossing as he looked over the different flowers. You watched him.

"You'll be busy with missions."

"I don't plan on sticking around for long, if I'm honest. I want to retire and be with my kids more. The hero life isn't forever for some people. Keep that in mind, (N/N)."

"You're gonna leave the team?" You asked, frowning. You knew Clint had been thinking about it. Especially with a third kid on the way that would come at any moment.

"I got lucky but.. The thought of leaving Laura alone with three young kids, a barely legal adult, and a big plot of land.." Clint sighed, shaking his head as he gently tapped his finger against the table.

"I don't want to be an absent father and miss out on big achievements. I owe it to Laura and you guys." Clint explained softly. You understood. None of the other Avengers were parents yet. Clint dying meant fatherless kids and a widow. He had a lot more to lose.

"I'll always be here if you need advice or more training. I just won't be on the field with you." Clint placed his hands on your shoulders, giving them a gentle squeeze before he leaned in and gave you a hug. You hugged him back, eyes shutting. You weren't sure how you'd be on the field without Clint there to support you. Being beside him brought you comfort and reassurance.

"You'll be an amazing Avenger, (Y/N). I know it." Clint whispered, leaning back and smiling softly.

"Will you be my number 1 fan?" You asked with a grin.

"I'm afraid the top three spots are already taken but I'll happily be your fourth biggest fan." Clint laughed softly, turning his head when Laura called for him and you.

"Come on, let's see what the boss wants." He said playfully, turning around and walking out. You followed, noticing Nick Fury standing on the porch. He gave you a nod before entering the house.

"What's he doing here?" You asked, looking at Clint. Clint shrugged, letting out a deep sigh as you walked up the steps.

"We're about to find out."

[sebstanseabass]

Afterglow (A Bucky Barnes AU fan fiction) - Chapter 1

Afterglow chapters

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Story Description:

❝It's like an afterglow.❞

❝Yes, like an afterglow. If seeing something so beautiful makes you feel good then the after of it all must be... more pleasurable.❞

❝A lot of people tend to miss that detail after sunset. But not you. You're a photographer, y/n. The details in nature, in people, are some things you can never miss.❞

But there's one little detail you had missed, that you both missed: that you've already met years earlier.

You're a 25-year old photographer and part-time bartender, and has heard countless stories about the adventures of your roommate's stepbrother, Bucky Barnes -- a clumsy, party-driven 38-year old businessman. One day, you stumble upon Bucky inside your apartment on a Saturday night that would change both of your lives forever as you both take pleasure in the afterglow.

A/N: I already have this on Wattpad but with a female OC. This is my first ever Bucky Barnes fan fic and I hope you guys like it :)

CHAPTER ONE

"Hey, y/n. I think Nick wants to ask you out on a date." Peter Parker, your roommate, brought his beer bottle towards his mouth. His eyes were fixated somewhere while you were wiping droplets of beer on the countertop. You looked at his face features illuminated by the light from his laptop. "You should really put coasters here, y'know." he added.

"Shut it, Parker," You rolled your eyes at him, "or no more free drinks for you."

"He's into you." He sang and averted his eyes somewhere. You followed his gaze which was on Nick Miller who was talking to some loud blondes on the booth, taking their orders.

"I'm not talking to you anymore." You put your hand up, blocking Peter's face and walked away. You greeted some customers approaching the bar counter. "Good evening, gentlemen, what would you like to drink?"

"Shots of tequila," one replied, "and keep 'em coming, doll!" The other three cheered which you knew annoyed Peter.

The bar was packed tonight. Saturdays were the only days New Yorkers were almost free for a chill drink hangout. College boys hang by the billiards table on the corner, office girls sip their margaritas on one of the booths, thirty-year old women shoot darts on the dartboard as if the board were their husbands, thirty-year old dads with their caps on drinking hard beer on one of the tables, kids who just turned twenty-one ordering their first drink legally, lonely people by the jukebox or on the bar counter telling their sad tales to the bartender and Peter Parker casually drinking beer with a laptop in front of him.

"You really should stop doing your work here on the bar." You approached Peter once more. "You're bumming people out."

Peter raised an eyebrow, his eyes glued on the laptop. "You're bumming me out."

"Seriously, do your business work elsewhere. Go to a coffee place or something. Starbucks isn't that far."

"You know I work better with beer"

"How can I forget?"

You and Peter go way back. You two had met in business school and had been roommates ever since. While you would pull an all-nighter in your shared apartment, Peter would struggle to open the front door, dance around in the living room like he had left feet and threw his final papers on the floor. He'd end up waking up your other roommates, Mickey and Pablo (who would usually join him by the way), leaving poor you cleaning up their mess the next morning. You'd put Peter to bed, seeing as the other morons were incapable of doing so. The next day, Peter's bed would reek of the pungent smell of beer and cigarettes. Though he didn't smoke ("and I never will!"), cigarette smoke disgustingly clung to his clothes and skin, which you found rather unpleasant. Even with all the alcohol in his system, Peter managed to pass all his exams and graduate with flying colors. You hated that.

"I don't get why you drink so much during exam week." You sighed, handing Peter a glass of water. He wasn't an alcoholic but he did turn into one right before midterms and finals start. It was somehow seasonal. According to Peter, it helped him focus. "You're not supposed to drink before a big exam, y'know."

"Hemingway drinks. He writes better when he drinks."

"You're a business major. Not a writer. You don't even read literature."

"Look at you now cleaning other people's messes." Peter chuckled, closing his laptop. You sighed and wiped the counter with much vigor. The four gentlemen from earlier left a pretty big mess toasting shots before they went towards the billiards table.

"Please, this is not the kind of bar you used to go to." You responded, making a gin and tonic. "This is a smoke-free, grope-free, friendly bar. No dancing, no loud stereo music -- just your regular bar where you can relax with your friends after a long day at work."

Peter turned around and tilted his head towards the jukebox. "There's someone dancing right now beside the jukebox."

"Not that kind of dancing." A 20-something year old man was breakdancing to some old beat you've never even heard of.

"Y'know it's really ironic you're working at a bar now. Oh, how you used to hate them."

"It's the only job I can do." You shrugged. "Besides photography, of course. And again, this is not that kind of bar. Think of it like a MacLaren's Pub from that tv show. Kind of funny how it's also just below our apartment building. If only we lived in this building in college, I would've enjoyed bars more."

You once went to one party at a crowded bar where Peter had surprisingly invited you. Writhing bodies pressed up against each other. Body shots from strangers. Toilets that reeked of beer vomit and pee. An "accidental" kiss between you and Peter in the bar that lead into a steamy makeout session as soon as you got in the apartment you both shared. Up to this day, neither of you spoke of that night and perhaps that day wouldn't come -- You really hoped it didn't. Wouldn't want to open a can of worms from the past.

"You're a boring old hag." Peter snorted.

"Hmm, I'd like to disagree. I can make drinks and you can't."

"Oh, you know who can make drinks, though? My stepbrother!"

Ah, yes. His stepbrother. The infamous Bucky Barnes. Born in the upper east side of New York and sadly, out of wedlock. Orphaned at a young age and adopted by a man named Tony Stark who then married Peter's mother. A successful hotel business owner (but not really famous), and the star of Peter's countless stories. Been arrested once for streaking. Got Peter out of detention in high school. Trespassed school premises. TP'd a house during Valentine's Day. Caught naked by a newly-wed in a hotel room. That was just the tip of the iceberg.

"I know. He makes the best bloody drinks of all time." You mimicked Peter the way he would -- insulting and proud -- which he didn't like as he shot dagger-like eyes at you. His expressions changed in a snap.

"Oh, that reminds me. He's in town!"

"I thought he was in Monaco?"

"Yeah, no. He travels a lot."

"Does that mean I now get to meet this famous stepbrother of yours?" You smirked, pulling out shot glasses from one of the cabinets.

"I'm not sure he would want to meet you. You're not exactly in his league."

"You mean snobby and rich?" You laughed while fixing the shot glasses on the counter. "I'm aware."

"I mean classy." He adjusted his tie.

You snickered. "Yeah, all those stories were real classy, Parker. Top-notch."

"You know what I mean, y/n - suits, money, stuff like that. Bucky's changed." One big sip of beer. "I think."

"Ya think?" You scoffed.

"Maybe, I don't know. Haven't spoken to him in a while. He's always traveling and stuff. Hard to keep track of him."

"Sounds to me like he's on a run from the bad guys." You joked which Peter didn't find funny.

"What do you mean?"

Peter idolized Bucky. He was the sole reason why he got into business in the first place -- no, they didn't spend late nights talking in their backyard basketball court about how fulfilling business is and all that crap like brothers would do. Peter just wanted to be like Bucky. To be in the world of money, booze, and then more money. That kind of crap. "It was a joke, Parker. This Bucky sounds like he may have done some stupid stuff but I doubt he's into something illegal or what."

"Yeah, he's a good guy." But even Peter didn't sound convinced of himself. He took a big gulp of his beer.

Nick approached the counter, avoiding your eyes but a smile landed on his lips as soon as he neared you. You could hear Peter chuckling. "Hey, Nick."

Nick acknowledged him by saying a small hello and started preparing a bunch of Bloody Marys for the blonde girls by the booth. Peter watched him, finishing his beer. You gave him a look before walking away to serve some drinks -- which he just mocked in return. With a tray of beer in your right hand, you approached the four gentlemen from before at the billiards table and gave them their drinks. Seeing a couple of girls slide out of one of the booths, you grabbed a washcloth and a bottle spray on the cleaning station and headed to clean the girls' mess. The table reeked of Gin and tonic, Margaritas, Grasshopper, a couple of beers and Long Island Iced Tea. Well, that's a weirdly wild group of friends.

While cleaning up the booth, you glanced up at the printed photographs on the walls which were yours. Black and white portraits of strangers. Flashes of red and blue lights on the streets. Giant buildings. Random people on Central Park and New York streets. Peter drinking beer at the booth with his co-workers. And the owner of the bar who was always cooped up inside his small office. Photos that didn't sell in your exhibit always went to the bar, in hopes that someone might find them somewhat good -- good enough to take home. But that wasn't the case. To them, the photos were just mere decorations at the bar; they just wanted to have a good time and couldn't be bothered to even take one shy glance at the bartender's photos. You wanted to think they just had zero taste when it comes to photography to make yourself feel better but you were wrong. It just made you feel worse.

Just when you were about to turn around, Peter slid into the booth. You almost dropped the things you were holding. "Jesus, Parker."

He looked up at the photos. "Told ya your photos won't sell here."

"That's not what I was thinking." Lie. You walked towards the bar counter with Peter on your tail. He sat once more on the high stool and immensely watched as you placed some glasses on the counter.

"Come work for our company. We could really use your skills for our products." He leaned in, trying to get your attention. It wasn't the first time he tried to convince you to go work for his company.

"For the nth time, I'm no corporate slave."

"You're working at a bar. You make drinks and serve people. Some of these fuckers have corporate jobs as well - like me! If you think about it," he crossed his arms, placing them on top of the counter, "it's kind of like serving these corporations you hate."

With a frown, you asked, "What kind of logic is that?"

"A businessman's logic."

"If that's the case, the corporate world is dead." You smirked, washing the glasses. Peter was no businessman. He was just a part of a sales team, making marketing pitch presentations every week or so. Honestly, you couldn't keep up with his presentations. "I'd be happy to join then."

"Come on, Aria. You can't be juggling two jobs for the rest of your life. You can get one big job at our company and you'll get paid big time. Plus," he leaned in further, almost getting up from the stool, "we'll be working together. Wouldn't that be fun?"

"I'm honestly getting tired of you." You chuckled, sprinkling some water on Peter's face. "And my answer is still no. I don't want to work for your company. I like freelancing and bartending." That wasn't a lie. Despite graduating from business school, you decided to pursue your passion in photography even if the pay couldn't cover your half of the rent. So, you decided to take a waitressing job at the bar just below your apartment, and then started bartending. Out of all the establishments you could've gone to, you chose this very bar because it was the most convenient option of all -- it was just below the apartment. Being a photographer and a part-time bartender weren't exactly the dream you had for yourself but you liked them; nothing gave you more pleasure than taking product photos for small businesses and making drinks for strangers who happen to stumble upon one of the best bars in the Upper West Side.

Peter sighed. "I'm never giving up on you. I'm not a quitter."

"Whatever you say, big guy." Peter had been at it for a few years.

"I hate you." Peter groaned.

"Aren't you the sweetest?"

Peter rolled his eyes and caught a quick glance at the wall clock. "Hey, your shift's almost over. Better hurry up."

"Right. Thanks, Parker." You began placing back the shot glasses on one of the cabinets then hurriedly walked into a small door on the back. You greeted your boss who was just doing some paperworks.

"Hey, Steve. I'm heading out."

"Right, right." Steve looked up from his laptop and removed his specs, placing them on the table.

You gave him a smile and turned to leave but before you could even close the door, Steve called you.

"Yeah?"

"Nick's not gonna be here tomorrow afternoon and I'm gonna be in Long Island for some family reunion. Would you mind checking all the deliveries for tomorrow?"

"Well, what about the others?"

"Ah, they're no good." Steve sighed. "I only trust you and Nick."

You raised an eyebrow. "Nick? Really?" You wouldn't trust Nick with anything -- not even with some dumb, silly secret.

Steve shrugged. "He's a good kid. He and I get along. So, do I get a yes?"

"Yeah, sure. I got nothing going on tomorrow."

"No photography thingy?"

You pursed your lips. "Not unless you want me to take photos for your family reunion."

"No way in hell am I gonna let you meet my family."

"Aw, you said you trust me."

He chuckled and leaned back on his office chair. "Go home, y/n."

You sent him a smile before heading back to the counter to meet Peter who was mindlessly scrolling on his phone. "Let's go, Parker."

You two walked up the steps towards your apartment building, shoulders bumping from time to time. You and Peter lived on the fifth floor. You would've gotten your own place but your parents cut you off since you refused to work for the family supermarket your family owned in Hoboken, New Jersey. The last time you spoke to your parents was almost three years ago, when you threw a huge tantrum like a damn baby at your graduation party. "There's nothing for me here in New Jersey! It's as boring as these two old couples next door. (No offense). I hated business school. I want to pursue photography whether you like it or not. I'm not staying in this hellhole forever."

"You walk out that door, you're out of here forever."

And out you went with only a couple of clothes and some leftover college money. The only sliver of hope you had was Peter.

"Hey, y/n?" Peter asked as soon as you got inside the elevator. "Hypothetically, if Nick asked you out on a date, would you say yes?"

You gave him a weird look after the elevator doors closed before you. "I don't know, man. Never dip the pen in company ink, right?" You fished for your apartment key on your purse. "How are you so sure he's gonna ask me out?"

"He flat out told me that's how." He replied. "Yesterday night. So, if he does ask you..."

"Why are you so invested in my dating life?"

"You have no dating life." He retorted.

Peter was one to talk. He also didn't have one.

"You know what I mean, idiot."

He shrugged. "Just curious."

The elevator doors opened and you both headed towards your apartment unit, with Peter still yapping about Nick this and Nick that. You groaned, getting ultimately tired of hearing Nick's name and the possibility of you and him dating. "Maybe you should date him, Parker."

"You date him."

You gave him a confused look. "Shut up, Parker."

"Wait, you know what? Don't date him. I don't like him for you. He's weird and -- "

"No, I mean it. Shut. Up." You hissed, stopping on your tracks and grabbing Peter by his arm. You were right outside your apartment unit. There was a small gap between the door and the door frame. It seemed like someone broke in..

"What do we do? What do we do?" Peter half-yelled, half-whispered.

"Have the cops on speed dial. If it really is a robbery, call them. Got it?"

"What if they have guns?"

"I'll tell them to shoot you first."

"Gee, thanks for looking after me. Appreciate it."

You smirked, your hands already on the door. Slowly, you pushed it away from your body, failing to make it as quiet as possible as the door creaked against the floorboards. You gently looked around the dark living room, seeing no sign of someone inside -- until your eyes caught something moving on the couch. Your eyes went wide. You went back in the hallway where Peter was standing with his phone in his hand, ready to press the call button.

"Well?" He was waiting for an answer.

"I think someone's crashing on our couch?" Even you looked confused.

"What? Are you sure?"

"Either that or a large animal just broke into our apartment. Come on, let's go see." You whispered, trying not to wake up the uninvited guest.

"I'm not going in there!"

"Fine, I'll wake the bastard up." You groaned. "Pussy."

"Dick." He snickered but zipped his mouth shut as soon as you sent him a glare.

Without a noise, you managed to get closer, using the light from your phone as a guide. On the couch was a huge blanket sprawled across and under that was the rhythmic sound of someone breathing. Your hand lightly trembled, reaching for the blanket to unveil whoever was under it; but before you could even touch a single thread, the person jumped out of the couch, and so did your heart. You let out a scream, falling backwards and hitting your head on one of the small tables beside the couch. The unknown person stood on the couch, and awfully joined your screams. The lights suddenly turned on, with Peter standing by the door.

"Oh my god!" You yelped as soon as you realized the man in front of you was naked. No clothes, no nothing, just bare skin against the cold breeze. Your hands immediately flew to your eyes. "Who the hell are you?" Your screamed at him.

He urged you to remove your hand from your eyes, telling you he was wrapping the blanket around his waist. Thankfully, he wasn't lying.

"Bucky?" Peter breathed, approaching the scene.

"This is Bucky?" You asked in disbelief.

Bucky smiled and jumped off the couch, offering his hand. "Hi, I'm Bucky."