#the words of a man who's already lived through manhattan and is going backwards in their timeline to catch up on time he'll never get back!!

[mndvx]

DOCTOR WHO – The Power of Three (S07E04) directed by Douglas Mackinnon | written by Chris Chibnall ››› Matt Smith as The Doctor ››› Karen Gillan as Amy Pond

[plainlo-inthemorning]

A Loki TVA / Lokane fic that snatched a tempad. Rating T.

Previously: Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 (of 6)

Shine a Light, part 4

This time around, he feels but the faintest glimmer of surprise as he steps out of the doorway and onto a busy sidewalk in Midtown Manhattan.

A few people stop dead in their tracks when the door materializes out of thin air, but the throng of commuters headed to and from Central Station is so dense, Loki’s appearance goes mainly unnoticed.

Dull resignation washes over him.

The tempad is officially broken. Its coordinates locked onto this little planet where, in his own timeline, he has known nothing but defeat.

Without bothering to look for a newsstand, he reasons there’s a strong probability it’s the year 2014. It would seem the damn gadget is slowly counting backwards, while refusing to take him anywhere else in the universe.

Above his head, a billboard flashing on the side of a high-rise building confirms his suspicions.

Incredibly though, the tempad still not out of “juice”. The battery life seems to be making a mockery of his failed attempts to direct the itinerary.

Taking a step out of the moving sea of people, Loki sees little in way of construction sites along the street.

On his timeline, this would have been two years after his attack on the city with Thanos’ army, but if that ‘highlight’ of Loki’s less than acclaimed villainous career took place in this reality as well, the mortals have effectively tidied up after him.

He tries not think of the countless faces frozen in terror that had looked up at him.

Of the lives lost because of his crazed ambition to prove himself - and to destroy something of Thor’s.

Almost if Loki had been transformed back into the chronically jealous five-year-old child who once stole his golden, annoyingly joyful, perfect brother’s favorite model toy - a grey wolf made of clay - and deliberately let it roll down the steps of the throne when their father (his NON-father) had been away.

The toy had broken into pieces and Thor had been inconsolable. Gripped by immediate remorse despite his initial intent, Loki had tried to fix it with his budging magic powers. Only for the wolf to melt to a sticky puddle on the stone floor.

Thor had wailed so loudly, a passing servant had thought him seriously injured and called for their mother, and Loki had been made to apologize, his usually pale cheeks burning scarlet. Then he had been grounded for the remains of the day.

The humiliation had stung, and so had the regret that his magic had failed him.

Not for the first time, the anger had turned, unwarranted (Loki knew then too), towards his brother.

From then on, it had just gotten slowly worse and worse and more malicious right up until that horrible moment of rage no more than a few days ago (a week?), when Loki had driven one of his daggers into Thor’s side on top of the Stark tower.

And twisted it.

The mix of bottomless sadness and shock in his brother’s blue eyes had cut through Loki’s heart with such force he might as well have sunk the blade of his other weapon into his own chest.

But instead of abandoning his pathetic scramble for power and hold Thor, instead of attempting to heal the wound with his magic that has become so formidable in adulthood, Loki had let the poison drown the remains of his sanity.

Of course, shortly afterward, the green monstrosity had effortlessly and repeatedly smashed him into the concrete floor of Stark’s living-quarters until Loki had thought he heard every bone in his supposedly immortal (right!) body break and his skull crack open.

To the outside, it had surely been a suitably entertaining show of retribution, but as he had lain there in the crater of rubble, unable to utter a moan, it was as if all the anger had been knocked out of him.

The link to Thanos’ ungodly servant had been severed and Loki had felt more like himself than he had in a long, long time.

When Thor, looking grimmer than ever, had dragged him to his feet in front of the ragtag band of ‘heroes’ and cuffed him, Loki had found himself strangely elated, on the verge of giddy.

His legs had been so shaky from the beating that Thor had had to hold him by the arm so he wouldn’t fall, and Loki had felt the heat of his brother’s huge hand penetrate the many layers of his own armour.

For a few delirious seconds, Loki had wanted nothing more than to lean against his brother’s strong frame and just close his eyes.

Instead, he had started cracking jokes until Thor had slapped the muzzle on him, as if he were some dog (that gesture had embarrassed him more than anything that had gone before). Unable to keep up his sarcastic commentary as they rode the elevator down, Loki had fleetingly wondered if he was suffering from a psychosis or actual brain damage.

Now, standing on the street so close to where it happened, the memory oozes fresh guilt.

But he redeemed himself.

In his mind, Loki goes through the TVA reel once more to remind himself of the images of his brother later in life, smiling at him.

Right before the end came.

If he is to spend the rest of eternity on Midgard - or at least until the multiverse crumbles - he will try to find solace in the good his future self managed to accomplish.

For Thor and, in another, brighter reality, for her.

The riddle of her part in his life now remains unsolved, but as hard as Loki tries to release the ghost wrapped in his arms, it merely squeezes itself closer to his chest.

He could try to find her here, on this timeline.

She will be with Thor, that much is certain, but since the reel of Loki’s fate had shown him only his own path, he knows not whether Thor and Jane shared a life on Midgard, or somewhere else, up until the brothers reunited (for lack of a better word) on Asgard.

What would Loki even say to her?

That, while at the bureau that controls all space and time, he saw her face on a roll of film of his supposed life, and now he aches for her more than anything? That on an alternate timeline a few hours ago, she kissed him?

Thor would not approve of that exchange.

Also, with Loki’s luck, Thor might be a frog in this reality.

He could still try to use the tempad to transport him to Svartalfheim and his own life’s story, seeing as he is now only year from where he feels so strongly he must go.

But finding the proper timeline is like shooting an arrow into the endless vastness of space and hoping it’ll hit the right comet.

He realizes that now.

An arrow.

Somehow, somewhere, on two timelines no less, variants of him had …

Loki’s head jerks up.

The tower.

It’s a desperate idea at best, but from the (very) little Loki knows of his character, Stark’s superior technical skills go hand in hand with an endlessly hungry, inquisitive mind. And pride.

Much like Loki, Stark is a man who needs to be the smartest man in the room. And like Loki, he probably is, most of time (in fact… no. Don’t go there).

Maybe Stark will listen.

Perhaps he can even help make sense of the tempad if Loki can somehow win his trust and appeal to his curiosity and (he winces a little) heroism.

Was it not Loki’s actions who had helped Stark “realize his best potential”, as his TVA file put it?

He spots the imposing structure further up the street, noticing the huge “A” at the top (is that new?), and sets off towards it at a brisk pace, darting in and out of the crowds on the packed sidewalk.

Here goes nothing.

As he reaches the large glass doors he briefly experiences a dizzying deja-vu, when suddenly a man’s voice calls out to him.

A frighteningly familiar, agitated voice.

… With a particular brand of anger bubbling underneath, that Loki had hoped he’d never have to witness up close ever again.

//

“What the hell are you doing here??”

His dark, curly hair has a few more streaks of silver. The checkered shirt is slightly crumbled, the glasses a bit askew. He clutches an armful of papers to his chest.

And he’s wearing a furious expression although, thank the Norns, a mortal complexion.

For now.

“Didn’t Tony explicitly tell you not to come here?! Are you that intent on causing everyone to lose their shit again?!”

Worry is all over Doctor Banner’s screwed up face.

“Seriously, Loki, is this funny to you? Clint is actually in the building right now and, in case Tony didn’t already inform you, he’s made it very clear that he’s quitting the team if you were to stroll through the front door!”

The Avenger has started shaking, his eyes wild (too wild).

This is heading in the wrong direction fast.

Mustering all the calm in the world despite his racing pulse and the nauseating sounds of bones breaking echoing in his head, Loki puts on his most courteous and, he dearly hopes, un-cocky charming smile.

“Bruce, please relax. I assure you, I’m not here to cause trouble. Not for you or anyone else.”

“Right, you just happened to be in town and wanted to stop by for coffee? Loki, this …”

Loki gently interrupts him.

“I merely came here to have a conversation with S- … Tony. Perhaps you could let him know I’m here? I promise you, I will not set foot inside. In fact - “

Loki adopts the form of one of the security guards he can see pacing inside the foyer.

“… I’m not even here.”

Bruce jumps a little and clutches his papers even tighter.

“Oh god, I hate when you do that, man. If you think showing off that trick makes anyone any less nervous around you…”

“Doctor Banner - Bruce. I have something …”

Loki searches for the words, quickly trying to decide on how much to reveal to the man-beast who’s now looking at him with urgent expectancy.

He sighs and bets it all.

“Okay. Bruce, what I’m going to say will sound mad.”

The man scoffs.

“Coming from you, I’d expect nothing less.”

Bruce shakes his head and looks to the sky in exasperation.

“Please - please - don’t tell me you’ve gone and changed your mind about the whole not conquering Earth business. Really, Loki, none of us understand how transforming you into ‘an asset’ became Tony’s pet project over this past year, or why Fury went along with it. But I’m sure both are going to be pretty damn disappointed if their new alien BFF decides to embrace his inner psycho again.”

Loki almost chuckles. It’s all too ridiculous.

“I won’t … embrace my inner ‘psycho’, I swear.”

“Then what?”

The God of Mischief draws in a deep breath, closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. Or rather, the security guard’s nose.

Then he surrenders to the absurdity of the situation.

“Bruce, I kindly beg of you, is Tony here? Or … (is there hope?) Thor?”

Bruce still looks at him with deep disdain, but his immediate anger seems to have subsided.

“No, Tony’s out of town. Took Pepper somewhere on holiday. They’re not to be disturbed for at least a week. Her words. And Thor … I should think you of all people know perfectly well why he’s not likely to hang around at the time being. Jeez, you guys and your endless family soap opera … I can’t even.”

Naturally, the universe again blankly refuses to extend any hands to Loki and his doomed quest. Sadly, once again, he is not surprised.

Wait - what?

“What do you mean, ‘soap opera’?”

Bruce looks like he’s about to throw his hands over his head and all the papers with them.

“Oh, come on! What is this?! You want approval? Confirmation of your little victory? Doesn’t the very lovely embodiment of that currently walk around in your apartment or wherever it is you live now? Loki, I’m done here. You have to leave. Bye.”

To hell with Stark – Loki wants to grab Bruce by his shirt collar and shake the little man till he explains what in all of Yggdrasil he’s talking about.

But he cannot afford to tempt the beast. Quite literally.

“Then … can you and I go somewhere to talk? Bruce, you’re a man of science. This is science … related.”

Loki feigns a smile.

Bruce sizes him up. No doubt considering whether to let the other guy continue the conversation.

Then his shoulders drop.

“Okay. Okay. For a creepy megalomaniac, you somehow tend to end up with some very cool people defending your case. Just know that those people are absolutely the only reason, you and I are still talking. Ugh, I’m too nice … “

Bruce casts a glance over his shoulder into the foyer, appearing to consider their options, when a man exits the glass doors – and shuffles up to them.

“Bruce! How nice to see you. You look well.”

The old man (those eyes …) grins warmly and pats Bruce on the back, then looks from him to Loki and back again.

“Everything alright out here? Is there a security issue?”

Bruce composes himself and smiles back.

“Hi, Lee, good to see you too. All fine. Earl here was just updating me on, eh, the new security procedures.”

He shoots Loki a stern look.

“Ah, yes”, Loki nods seriously. “Doctor Banner had some trouble operating the intricate open and close mechanism of the doors. The elevator doors, especially.”

He can’t help himself. It’s somehow both immensely tragic and life-affirming.

“Oh?” The old man raises an eyebrow (he looks … but he’s not quite …something is off).

“Will I have to get a new security card? I rarely come in these days, but in case …”

“No, no, that won’t be necessary, Lee. Because, because … like you say, you’re hardly ever here, so …”

Still smiling awkwardly, Bruce waves a dismissive hand, almost dropping the stack of papers (the man’s a terrible liar, Loki thinks).

“Speaking of”, Banner continues, “you must be enjoying retirement up there, huh, Lee? Must be nice to live by the sea. Good … air quality?”

Loki sighs inwardly.

The dog sniffing at his ankles looks up at him.

He stares down at the round, fluffy thing as if seeing it for the first time.

Which he is and he isn’t.

The old man is saying something to Bruce about the countryside, when he notices the dog wagging its tail at Loki’s feet.

“Oh, he likes you. You’re lucky, he normally doesn’t care for strangers. No, you don’t, do you Fenris”, the man coos.

Under coats of thick white fur, the animal looks eagerly from owner to Loki.

“Okay, well, I’ll be off,” the old man says, finally. “Come see me sometime, Bruce. My neighbor actually just put his house on the market, in case you’re looking for a weekend retreat…”

He nods at Bruce, then at Loki who barely notices. The dog whines unhappily at being dragged away.

It’s the same timeline.

Of course, it is. The tempad has locked itself on a sequence.

But why the different locations …?

“Yes, thank you, Lee. Take care now. Earl, shall we?” Bruce signals to Loki to follow him round the side of the building.

“We can continue our discussion about the security issue in the garage”.

//

“So, let’s hear it. Tell me what you came to say, so I can tell you why it’s a catastrophically bad idea.”

Bruce sits himself across the small table from Loki and dumps the stack of papers in front of him. The top sheet is covered in coffee mug rings.

They are in an anonymous, windowless office somewhere below the vast tower parking lot and numerous in-house repair shops.

The place is a gigantic maze and Loki has just shut himself in a tiny room with the very monster that turned him into ragdoll. The deep slash on his forehead has only just healed.

He does not fear many beings in the universe, but the mild-mannered doctor’s alter ego makes the hit list with the worst of them.

Ignoring the way the hairs on the back of his neck stand up (why did this seem like a good idea?), Loki drops his disguise and takes a seat on the cheap plastic chair. Not much of that flashy Stark glamour down here.

“Okay.” Loki takes out the tempad and puts it in the middle of the table.

He is not quite sure where to start, so he decides to begin with the purely technical aspect.

Bruce might appreciate being given a few ‘scientific’ details before any mentions of giant smoke monsters and alligators.

In fact, the fewer magical creatures and castles in the sky, the better.

“This is called a tempad. It’s a device that makes it possible to travel anywhere in time. You type in your destination, and a doorway opens. I did not make it myself. It was, er, given to me by a large and very powerful organization … in space.”

Bruce is leaning forward to get a better look at the tempad but makes no attempt to reach for it.

As he’s says nothing, Loki continues.

“This is where it gets, uh, weird, but try to believe me when I tell you, I’m not the Loki you know. I’m from another, similar timeline and -“

“Stop.”

“Excuse me?”

“Just stop, Loki.”

Bruce is leaning back on his chair again. He looks tired.

“I don’t know if you’re supremely bored of domestic bliss already, or just being your supremely annoying self, but I won’t engage. You’re not Loki but a time-traveler from space? Yeah, it’s -“

“No, Bruce, I am Loki. Trust me, I know this seems -“

“Trust? You wanna talk about trust again?” Bruce takes out his phone.

“Okay, we can do that.”

He taps a few buttons, then holds the phone to his ear.

“What are you doing?” Loki’s voice has a sharper edge to it than he intended.

The Avenger stares him down.

“Oh, I’m just calling someone. This guy I have in my contacts under God of Lies”.

Please, no …

Briefly, Loki considers whether another variant of him – the one he encountered at the house by the ocean, most likely – would actually be of more help.

Or if he, the variant, would try to kill him.

It was one thing reasoning with and trying not to get killed by Loki variants who at least understood the concept of variants, but how would he have reacted upon being confronted with a twin before the TVA?

No, not a twin … Because this variant has her.

None of the variants in the Void – the grown-up, human ones – had mentioned versions of her.

Either this variant has successfully taken out every Minute Man ever sent by the TVA to arrest him (in which case, Loki concedes, he may be the superior Loki), or this whole timeline has only just blossomed at the opening of the multiverse.

Why else would he, who apparently also gave his phone number to Bruce Banner, get to live a life so vastly different from the typical arc of a misguided Jotun prince?

Loki feels light-headed.

On one hand, he wants to know everything there is to know about his double, on the other, he fears what and who he might find.

You don’t belong here. Find your own timeline. No more Lokis.

Focus. Explain.

He raises his one hand in a placating gesture.

“Give me a little time to try and explain this, Bruce, and then, then … You can call whoever. Call everyone! But please just -“

“Oh, what do you know,” Bruce puts his phone down, “there’s no answer. What a surprise.”

He crosses his arms.

Loki inhales and tries again, speaking as evenly and as calmly as he can while his frustration mounts:

“There is no way of telling you all or any of this without it sounding utterly ludicrous, so you’ll have to hear me out. Five minutes uninterrupted from now, okay? Yes, we’re talking time travel, but compared to what’s really at stake, even time travel is a pretty basic technicality. Also, I promise you, in a few years’ time from now, the concept of time travel won’t seem all that laughable to you and Stark in particular. Provided this reality exists in a few years’ time seeing as -“

Bruce sighs dramatically.

“Yes, okay, so”, Loki continues, “Two years ago, I attacked New York, right?”

“If you’re about to roll out some outlandish excuse – another one! – I don’t care to hear it.”

The other man is narrowing his eyes as a fresh look of undistilled loathing creeps into his features.

So it did happen on this timeline as well.

“No, it’s not that. Or, I mean, let’s save that. When you captured me, in my timeline, I escaped from the lobby with the Infinity stone. I know it seems impossible from your end of events but - “

“Impossible?”

Bruce gives him a strange look Loki can’t quite interpret.

“Yes, S… Tony dropped the briefcase with the Infinity stone, and I picked it up and -“

Bruce pushes his chair back. The plastic scrapes loudly against the stone tiles of the floor.

“Loki, I can’t. I thought I had the patience to at least indulge you but turns out I don’t. I can’t tell if you’re losing your mind, but either way, you’ll have to take it – this, whatever it is – up with Tony instead when he gets back. Maybe bring that sweet lab partner of yours along if you’re going to talk time travel. With her field of expertise, I’m sure - “

“WILL YOU SHUT UP AND LISTEN TO ME!”

Without thinking, Loki slams both his hands into the table. Papers go flying and Bruce staggers backwards.

Horror dawns as Loki realizes his error, but it’s already too late.

Bruce doubles over in spasms and a deep, much too deep, growling sound escapes his lips. He grips his head with his shaking hands as if trying to contain the explosion within, and Loki feels his own brain go numb with panic as one of those hands triples in size and a sickly green hue rapidly spreads.

There is no way out.

Bruce is blocking the door and soon his bulk will be taking up the entire room. He falls to his knees, arms thrashing wildly and his shirt ripping across his back. The table sails over Loki’s head, one of the chairs lodges itself in the soundproofed ceiling, causing the panels of fluorescent light to flicker madly.

Are there no security cameras?!

There are screams, but they no longer sound human.

Loki has nowhere to hide.

He has to gather his magic around him, but terror is completely scattering his focus, cold sweat breaking out all over his body.

It is a matter of seconds before the transformation will be complete and the monster attempts to tear him limb from limb. With no heroes to stop it.

Cold.

He has only consciously reached for it once before, but now the thought barely registers before ice rushes through him as if by instinct. Bruce is not the only one with an abomination lurking under the surface.

He doesn’t have the casket of his birth father, but he has strength.

There is no time to consider if it’s enough or nothing at all. No time for crippling self-loathing or shame.

In front of him, the Hulk lifts its crazed, bloodshot eyes to meet his.

The green creature cannot stand upright in the office, and the first fist goes through the ceiling with the force of a wrecking ball. The next lashes out at Loki, who dodges it just as his own skin turns a deep, brilliant blue.

Little black ridges and markings rise on his arms and face and though his sight doesn’t falter, he feels the instant his eyes go from green to bright red. The fabric of his clothes chafes his new skin and waves of adrenaline surge through his body. Multiple foreign senses come alive and drown his fear.

But he has not a breath to spare to get used to his true form before the Hulk shoves him against the wall so hard, the bricks shift against his side as if they were made of a child’s building blocks.

The impact makes him gasp for air, yet the pain … the pain he can manage.

He just has to last long enough get out of here. And the cold is crystalizing his focus to let the magic flow easily, powerfully through his hands.

His blue hands.

If he had used this when …

Loki pushes himself off the wall (out of it) and almost collides with the Hulk (there’s no space left to maneuver in) who, instead of smashing its way out, seems hell-bent on squashing the only living thing in its line of sight first.

Loki swiftly crouches down on one knee, puts his palms together and, faster than the blink of a brilliant crimson eye, conjures a rotating orb of ice and chaos energy that explodes in a blinding flash of white light as he hurls it square into the monster’s chest.

The Hulk falls back, breaking through the wall to the parking lot on the other side and crashing into a row of cars, while a sheath of ice spreads from its chest and up its neck. The being that is not Bruce howls and claws at its skin, but the smooth ice thickens and as it reaches the head of the beast, it slides right into its eye sockets – and momentarily blinds it.

It will probably only last seconds but it’s all Loki needs while the Hulk shakes its head furiously.

He makes to flee when he spots the tempad on the cracked floor.

He can’t leave it.

As Loki dives for the gadget, the Hulk simultaneously knocks itself in the face with both fists, splintering the ice into a rain of tiny spikes. With a roar to match the sound of a spaceship engine taking off, the creature lunges.

Loki’s fingers close around the tempad.

He feels a buzz.

The door appears in front of him.

He doesn’t stop to think before throwing himself through it.

The Hulk punches into empty air.

Part 5

[talesofnox]

(Yes I did the editing. like it or love it?)

word count: 1515

tags: newsies, newsies live, newsie movie, kid blink, kid blink newsies, newsies writing, newsies headcanon, newsies imagine, newsies fluff, newsies fanfiction, newsies blurb, newsies oneshot, newsies drabble, kid blink oneshot, kid blink imagine, kid blink drabble, kid blink fanfiction, kid blink headcanon, writing, oneshot, imagine, drabble, fanfiction, blurb, headcanon

a/n: I do not know any of the characters’ actors personally, nor do I own the rights to their characters. What’s written below the tag is a work of fiction and should subsequently be treated as such. I am essentially using the actors as a face-claim and almost never, a name-claim. I am creating my own character and using the actor / character as a secondary fictional character, using features for details. I do not and never would directly associate the actors with any ideas used in my own writing. This writing is to be used for entertainment and fictional purposes only. Thank you for understanding and if you do not understand, fuck off, please and not thank you.

Newsie Headcanon

THE STORY OF NEWSIES LIVE: KID BLINK

So…Newsie Live: Kid Blink

He does not wear an eyepatch on his face (most likely so it is easier for Andy to dance)

We get to sea him directly about 57 minutes into the show, where he is retrieving his block of papers from Wiesel

But, God damn it(‘scuse my language), he is a scab at this point in time, but we never get to know the canon reason he does not where an eyepatch, so I came up with a Headcanon about why exactly the newsies call him Kid Blink

FLASHBACK

Blink was young when he joined the street rats as a newsie, maybe 7 at the time

His father had been absent for most of his life

He lived with his mother who worked in a brothel in New Jersey

She was an amazing mom, never even giving a hint to any of her clients that Blink (Or if we’re using his birth name, Mason) existed

His special hiding spot was the large cupboard in the corner of the brothel owner’s office

(she was a lovely woman who did not even bat an eye when Blink’s mother showed up with him)

Blink’s mother was paranoid and constantly cautious—she could never live with herself if someone reported her, and the police were sent to take Blink away from her

So, she taught him morse code so they could communicate id there were any customers in hearing radius

Blink became so talented in the silent language that the two could have full conversation by the time he was 4 years old

MOVING FORWARD

Blink’s mother sometimes had aggressive customers, but nothing would ever compare to the last one

As it had turned out, Blink’s never-present father had left, running away to the Bronx and taking a new wife

The new woman became pregnant and the two were happy

Until she and the baby girl passed away in the middle of the birth due to bleeding complications

Newspapers tell the rest of the story: Blink’s father went ballistic when he heard the news

He grabbed a pistol he kept hidden in a couch-side cabinet and did not hesitate to shoot the assisting midwife

The shot alerted the head midwife and she appeared in the doorway, but before she could even get a sound out, she too, was shot in the head, and dies instantly

The man ran in the dead of night, having discovered from an old gambling buddy where his ex-wife and son had disappeared to

Blink’s mother did not have any customers, and as a result, they liked to sit in her room upstairs speaking in morse code when they heard a scuffle downstairs

There was a series of pops before a stomping on the stairs echoed throughout the house

Blink’s father appeared in the doorway, the pistol in his hand and multiple specks of blood splattered across his lips and face

Blink was told to run

He did so, but thought his mother had been behind him the entire time

He heard a deafening pop, and suddenly, he had been knocked over by the dead weight of his mother’s body

He screamed, a shrill cry as he burst into tears, struggling to push his mother off of his bruising form

His father approached him next but was tackled from behind by a gaggle of police constables

He was taken away and Blink was lifted away from his mother, kicking and crying out for his ‘mommy,’ he just wanted his mommy

He began to calm down, and so, the policemen holding his arms loosened their grips and eventually, let him walk freely

Blink did not hesitate to run; in fact, he jumped out the two-story window, and landed on the fire escape

He scaled the ladders as fast as he could through the many alleyways

All he could hear were the muffled shouts calling for him to come back

Everything else was just…silent, he could not pinpoint what was happening to him, but all sound came back in full force when he finally collapsed in an alley 3 miles from the brothel

Blink spent another few weeks traveling through the state and eventually made it into the busier part of New York City, Manhattan, to be more specific

He never got word if his father had been arrested or not, which made him paranoid that he hadn’t and was free to walk the streets and find him one day

Everything’s legal in Jersey, am I right?

Blink eventually stumbled his way into Newsie Square about midday, meaning no newsies were there to see him

He went to look at the World Distribution Center gates but before he could get past the Horace Greely Statue, he was tugged by his collar

Two older boys (about 9 and 10, and looking much too similar to not be related) stood in front of him, looking menacing but nervous at the same time, as if they were regretting what they were about to do

The two brothers / cousins—Blink did not know— roughed him up a bit and giving himself a black eye and a shallow cut on his lip and cheek

Before the one who had been called Morris, could kick his sternum again, a group of shadows appeared at the alley entrance

A young newsie, his face and arms strew from paint smears, had seen the fight, and ran off to find his leaders

He returned with a group of older boys who approached the trio

Morris and Oscar (as Morris had named him) stood slack as they looked at the newsies before they moved away from Blink

No one noticed the way Blink scooted backwards into a corner

Oscar and Morris left the alley in a rush, being chased down the street by a few younger newsies behind them

The boy with the paint on him was the first one to approach Blink, joining him in the corner by sitting crisscross in front of the timid boy

He introduced himself as Jack—near ten at the time

Jack asked Blink a few questions, but became baffled when all Blink would give as an answer was blinking his eyes

It was most likely that Blink was saying SOS or some other message relating to him desperately wanting some form of help, but Jack did not understand

One of the older boys got the hint that Blink would not answer any questions he could not shake his head to, and bent down next to Jack, asking Blink if he had a family, and after telling them no, Blink agreed to head back to the Newsboy’s Lodging House with them

Blink followed them out of the alley and was greeted by another small newsboy

He wore a grey flat cap and fiddled with a large cigar he pulled from his overshirts pocket

The boy introduced himself as Racetrack—a strange name, he later explained, he was christened with when he was found to be following an older boy to the Sheepshead Races every few days after selling

Race asked what Blink’s name was, not knowing he did not speak

When Blink only coded SOS once more, Race locked at him, astonished; he thought Blink’s way of speaking was amazing

The large group of boys tumbled their way down the cobblestone streets back to the lodging house, Blink on another boy’s—Spoons was his name—back when Race stopped in his tracks before grinning goofily and shaking his head, his curly blonde hair jumping with his glee

“I know! Wese should call ya’ Blink! Cause ya’ don’t talk, only blink ya’ eyes to ansah.”

Apparently, Race was a God, because all the boys started cheering and, once they got through the house up to the bunk room, Spoons plopped Blink down on a hard mattress and slapped an oversized cap on his head

Blink had no complaints with the name, instead smiling and welcoming it over his birth name any day

Most of the younger boys only called him simply ‘Blink,’ but most of the older boys coined the name, ‘Kid Blink’

Blink stayed mute for nearly a year, before he finally uttered his first words to the newsboys

He explained his birth name, but only his first, but all the boys already called him Blink so when someone randomly called him Mason, all the others were just like, “Who?”

Years go by, and he stays a newsie, becoming best friends with a boy name Mush—named for his simpleton-like comments at times—and they stayed selling partners for a long time before they became too old to sell together

[sxveme-2]

blueberry pancakes // bucky barnes

MASTERLIST

Description: A single mother. Juggling being a mom, a full time pediatrician, and a difficult ex who believed now would be the best time to finally be a father. A soldier ripped out of time. Ex-assassin turned superhero. Learning how to balance a new domestic life with handling demons of his past, while facing the trials of the future. a love story began over something as simple as chocolate chip pancakes with hidden blueberries.

Disclaimer: I do not own any original Marvel characters! All canon plots and canon characters belong to Marvel Comics and Marvel Studios. This is an original work. You may not publish it anywhere else

Status: Edited

Note: Takes place after endgame. I have elected to ignore Tony's death and Steve's leaving. Did not happen. Quick Reminder! My works are only published here, AO3 and on Wattpad, thank you.

Chapter Eighteen: The One With the His Job

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 3054

He told her there was a danger with him. That there was always going to be a threat. He warned her what could possibly come if they went further. But neither cared. Neither wanted to stop. There were such strong feelings between the two that if they stopped, Lily would be left with something missing in her life. She didn't want to let him go, despite being hesitant to let him in. He created this new feeling of safety for Lily, yet here they sat. She knew what her parents were doing. It was recorded in studies that the Winter Soldier was unlocked through a series of Russian words, triggers that would set off the chemicals in his brain.

And for the first time, Lily felt scared around Bucky Barnes. But it didn't last long.

With his eyes squeezed tight, Bucky made his way towards Lily and Hunter. Fluttering those steel-blue eyes, Bucky looked at Lily, and she knew he was still there. He turned his back to the two, blocking the view of Lily's family. And he spoke, cool, calm, and collected.

"For two of the smartest scientists, you don't do a lot of research," Bucky began, "I don't work like that anymore. Now in about two minutes Captain America and the Falcon are going to walk through those doors. Do us all a favour, and just sit. And wait."

The clicking of a gun made Lily's heart stutter. It came from one of the three Osbornes. She whispered a quiet prayer, despite her lack of religious beliefs, and tugged the young boy closer to her. Her breathing was rapid and tears brimmed at the mossy iris of her eyes, creating a glass-like effect. It made her look like a real doll, just as Bucky called her. A small shuttering breath escaped her lips as she pressed a kiss to the soft tufts of blonde on Hunter’s head. If anything, she just wanted to shield Hunter from all of this. With what he had been through at such a young age already, Lily felt her heartbreak at the idea of him having to witness the events that would follow.

"Lily go to the car," Bucky whispered, glancing over his shoulder, "Please."

She didn't hesitate. Most people she was sure would try and stay and help, but Lily would be damned if she had Hunter stay in this cafe for a second longer. Without skipping a beat, the blonde tugged her son away from the booth and darted with him towards the car they had brought here that morning, rushing him into the back. The moment the doors closed, both Lily and Hunter let out a breath of relief. Leaning her head forward, Lily placed it on the top of her steering wheel, blinking away the tears that threatened to fall as everything began to settle in.

The sound of her phone ringing made every hair on her body stand on edge.

Glancing up, Lily sniffled while answering through her car. It was Rose. And dear God was the elder sister glad to hear from her. But nervous at the same time. She wasn't sure if Rose knew about what was happening, she could only assume so, seeing as the younger sister had been in the cafe not too long ago with Lily's best friend.

"Lily! Thank god you answered are you okay?" Rose's panicked voice quivered as it rang through her speakers, "Do you have Hunter? Please tell me you have Hunter?"

"Yeah, yeah Rose I've got Hunter. We're okay. We're in the car." Lily responded, her own voice barely above a whisper, "Are you and Gen okay?"

"Yeah...yeah, we're at Gen's apartment. I tried to take Hunter, I tried. But they...they ju- "

"Rose stop. It's okay...listen I'm with Hunter right now I'll call you back. Make sure Gen's okay, and just stay there." Lily finished, "I love you." and with that, the blonde ended the call, turning her attention to the clear shell-shocked boy that was sitting in the back seat.

"Mom is Bucky gonna hurt grandma, grandpa, and uncle Cedar?" his voice whispered, shaking and cracking halfway through.

Lily felt a ton of bricks smash against her chest. She herself didn't even know the answer to that. She trusted Bucky, yes. But this was also his job. To take down the people who do these sorts of things. Bring them to justice, by whatever means needed. And a part of her knew that there was a possibility she could lose her parents and brother within the next few minutes, but the other half of her knew that Bucky wouldn't. She felt deep inside that if it came down to it, he would let them live and be brought to legal task instead of violence. But Lily didn't know...but she couldn't leave Hunter hanging. If she did that, then he'd know her own thoughts on the matter. And it wouldn't help either case.

"No." she stated, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, "No I don't think Bucky will."

And she was right.

Not too long later, the doors to the cafe swung open after the police screamed down the street. Lily watched with pain in her eyes as her parents, unscathed with a mere bruise or two were walked from the building, Bucky, Steve, and Sam following close behind. No one looked injured or hurt, and a sigh of relief escaped from Lily. Bucky glanced over at the car and excused himself from the trio, jogging towards the car. Lily watched as he opened the passenger side door, sliding in.

"Hey, Hunt buddy," Bucky whispered, shifting to turn.

"Hi, Bucky." Hunter returned, a sense of relaxation in his tone after seeing that no one had been injured, "Is everything okay now?"

Bucky's eyes met Lily's, and the two shared a moment of silence before he began to speak once again, "Yeah. Everything's okay now buddy."

-----

"How're you feeling, hun?" Lily whispered as she took a seat on Hunter's bed after tucking him in for the night, "Lots happened today. Is there anything you wanna talk about?"

"Why'd they do it?" the boy whispered, looking up at his mother, "Why did they do it, mom, I don't get it."

Lily let out a soft sigh, running a hand across the boy’s forehead, "I don't know bud. I don't. I wish I had an answer for you. Bucky's taking care of it. anything you need to know I'll tell you, okay? I promise." the blonde hummed, reaching her pointer finger out.

Hunter nodded and wrapped his smaller finger around hers. Pressing a kiss to the boy’s forehead, Lily stood from the bed. Flicking off the lights, she smiled gently at Hunter curling under his blankets before she shut the door to his bedroom. Digging the heels of her hands into her eyes, Lily walked down the stairs where Bucky, Sam and Rose were sitting in her living room. She smiled gently when they looked up at her before she took a seat next to Bucky on the couch.

"So this is a daily thing with you guys, hm?" Rose asked, sipping her water, "Like what do you guys do when people aren't trying to blow up the city or take over the world?"

The room fell silent except for the late-night news playing in the background. Bucky and Sam looked at each other with frazzled expressions as though they didn't even know what they did when there wasn't an imminent threat to the city or the world. Lily couldn't help but laugh at that fact. Out of the four of them, she lived the most basic and mundane life. Rose was a world-famous stylist and designer, Bucky and Sam were superheroes. Lily was just a children's doctor living in suburban Manhattan with a family and a dog. The other three had travelled all over the world, and Lily hadn't. So learning what these fantastic people did in their free time did seriously intrigue the girl.

"Yeah I mean there aren't always people trying to take over the world," Lily continued, sipping her glass of wine, "Do you like...go bowling?"

Bucky let out a laugh, his head rolling backwards, "Bowling? I guess so, I mean there is an alley in the compound. But we mostly just hang out at our own places really. Wait for the next mission. I help at the retirement home, Sam hosts a veteran support group. Steve never stops working." the man hummed, his arm draping across Lily's shoulders.

"Speaking of bowling," Lily sighed, readjusting herself, "Hunter's birthday is next week and I still have no idea what to do. He's getting older and it's harder to come up with ideas."

"How do we go from talking about Bucky and Sam being literal superheroes to Hunter's birthday," Rose chuckled, "But I'm not sure Lil. Maybe take them bowling I guess."

"Or bring him and a few of the kid’s friends by the compound," Sam suggested, "If the kid’s friends are anything like Hunter, I'm sure they'd love it. Run a watered-down version of a training thing to be an Avenger."

"I'd love that Sam thank you. I just want to give him something to take his mind off of everything going on." Lily shrugged, leaning further into Bucky.

-----

November seventh. The faithful day that Lily welcome her baby boy into the world around her. Into her arms, into the life of New York. Despite her not wanting kids for quite some time, she wouldn't take back having Hunter. She just wished he was the son of someone better. For his father was the person Lily wouldn't even wish upon her worst enemy. Every year since Hunter was born, Lily wanted to make his birthday special. She'd pull out all of the stops if it meant seeing her boy smile brighter than she ever had before. And in the times they were experiencing now, she knew he needed it, as did she, more than ever.

"So how do you know the avengers?" One of the kid’s parents, Jill, asked as everyone unloaded from the cars when they arrived at the compound, "Because Hunter's story seems a bit far-fetched, hun."

Lily sighed and rested her hand on her son’s shoulder and looked over at the woman, "What did he tell you, Jill?"

"That his mommy's seeing the Winter Soldier." the woman hummed, placing her own hand on her son’s shoulder, "Sounds like a fantasy."

"Fantasies can come true." A deep voice hummed. Lily couldn't help but grin at the feeling of a metal arm wrapping around her waist. Bucky. The small group of parents went silent as the man pressed a kiss to Lily's temple, "And only seeing? Here I was hoping we could refer to it as something a little bit more, doll." he teased, earning an elbow from Lily.

Lily felt her face heat up and her breathing catch in her throat. As much as she wanted to rub all of this in Jill's face, she still had that massive bundle of nerves inside of her that held her back. All of the parents here weren't exactly Lily's friends. She knew them from the PTA at Hunter's school and a few from her neighbourhood, and they were all very much those cliche suburban moms that would be seen in movies. Stuck up, believed themselves to be perfect with the perfect children. And Lily quite liked their children, but the mothers? Ugh, Lily couldn't stand them. However, they were insistent on joining the kids for the tour.

"Nice to see you finally have a man in your life," One of the other moms, Gina, hummed as the group began to walk towards the compound, "And a strong father figure for Hunter."

Lily glanced to the side, scoffing at her remarks, "I'm both Hunter's mother and father. And I don't need a man, Gina, I've raised Hunter alone his whole life essentially." she muttered, resting a hand on Bucky's arm to relax the tension.

Ever since the night Cedar attempted to break into Scott's apartment, something inside of Lily grew. A new side of her, she supposed. Growth, almost. A part of her knew that if she were able to stand up to Scott, the man who had destroyed any ounce of confidence she had throughout their relationship, who were Gina and Jill to hold her back. Of course, there was only a certain extent she would go to, for she was still nervous to even speak to people most of the time.

"Welcome to the Avengers compound!" Tony boomed as the doors opened for everyone to walk in, "If you'd like to join the little kiddos on the tour Just keep to the left here with Mr. Sam Wilson, aka the Falcon. and if parents would like a few drinks, follow me, towards the lounge."

A few of the parents joined the group of kids as they wandered down the hall. Hunter waved goodbye to Lily as she and the other parents made their way towards where Tony Stark was leading them. The small group of mothers and fathers whispered as Bucky tightened his grip on Lily's waist. The last thing Lily actually wanted to do was spend time with these parents, however, she was willing to sacrifice her sanity for a few hours if it meant giving Hunter the best day ever.

"Alright, Cyborg go help Nat bring out the refreshments while I get these people situated, hm?" Tony teased, patting Bucky's flesh arm, "Lily come, help me entertain your friends."

When Bucky's arm left Lily's waist, Tony took over by looping his arm with hers. Lily raised her eyebrow at the man as he took her over towards the rest of the group, sitting next to her on one of the couches. Lily gave the billionaire a quizzical look but he just nodded, as if telling her to simply go along with it. Lily and Tony had only spoken a handful of times, but he seemed fairly persistent about letting Bucky go get the things from the kitchen.

"So Lily," one of the fathers, Thomas, started, "it's really nice to see you get back out into the field. Not even just romantically, socially too. Maybe you'll actually come to the PTA group date nights, with someone other than Genevive." he chuckled, leaning backwards on his seat.

"She wouldn't attend anyway, Tommy. Lily isn't one for fun." Jill chuckled, crossing her legs, "What is it you do, Lily? Stay at home with your dog and kid. Come on, no one wants to see their kid that often. The only time I see you out is with Joey!" the woman continued, shaking her head.

Despite it being somewhat truthful, the woman's words stung a bit. Lily knew she didn't go out often and never really tried to connect with everyone around her. The only time she really did was when she was essentially forced, and she figured that's why Jill figured to go for a sensitive part in Lily's life. But then again, Jill was also a two-faced gossip who could never stay out of other people's business. Lily seemed to be her favourite topic of discussion, and her favourite to pick on. The blonde felt as though she were back in high school, or hell, even middle school. Jill was always going after Lily's insecurities, as though she could see right through her. It terrified the young mother, but Lily knew how much Hunter loved Jill's son. So she went through with it and sucked it up so her son could enjoy himself.

"Interesting comment...uh what was your name?" Tony commented, leaning forward slightly.

"Jill. Jill Reinhart." the redhead hummed, tilting her head to the side.

"Right. Jen, so like I was saying. Interesting comment. Lily here is actually quite in tune with fun. She attended a party I threw not too long ago and was an absolute hoot." Tony chuckled, squeezing the blonde’s shoulder, "And just because she actually enjoys spending time with her kid, who is a saint, doesn't mean she's any less fun. So."

The room fell silent. Lily looked over at the man with wide eyes as she took in what he had said. Jill always managed to find that soft spot, but Tony was quick to the jump. She figured this was why he had sent Bucky off, so he could deal with the clear teenage drama that was taking place inside of a group of adults. It probably didn't help Lily was the youngest of the entire group and was clearly the most vulnerable.

"W-well I was just- "

"No, jenny I really don't wanna hear it. Ah! here come Nat and Bucky with refreshments." Tony hummed, wiggling his eyebrows at the blonde before taking a seat next to nat as she sat down.

"you alright doll?" Bucky hummed as he walked over, reaching his hand out, "Mind joining me in the kitchen for a quick second?" he continued.

Lily nodded and took the man’s hand, standing from the couch. She glanced over her shoulder to see Jill sitting there with an absolutely shocked face. Lily smiled gently to herself as Bucky tugged her out of the lounge and into the hallway. A giggle escaped both of their lips as he spun her into his arms, leaning her up against one of the walls just outside of the kitchen. shaking her head, Lily wrapped her other hand into the man’s hair, enjoying the soft feeling of the dark tresses. He hummed softly, before bending down and pecking her lips.

"I was about ready to absolutely rip a new one off of that woman." Bucky chuckled as he pulled away, resting his forehead against the shorter girls.

"Mmm, that's Jill. Just a PTA woman. A real handful." Lily cooed, letting out a deep breath, "Now what can I help you with?"

"Well..." Bucky hummed, leaning back gently, "I was just wondering...seeing as we may as well be. And I absolutely adore spending time with you and Hunter is the sweetest boy...Do we want to I don't know...make it official? Basically, what I'm asking, Lily Osborne, will you be my girlfriend?" he finished.

A new sense of fear settled deep within Lily's stomach.

[heli0s-writes]

II. The Binding

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes Summary:  You return to the newly dubbed Avengers Tower after two years. The Words find you with a surprise. A/N: Part 2 of Mystery of Love.

It took a few months for you to settle in and find a new apartment, but soon enough you were back on a regular schedule. Your work continued to be well-reviewed and circulating, which was a good sign because it meant you could still make a living off it. The merchandise in your store was steadily being bought and it certainly helped that you still had quite a bit of money left over from your last few paychecks. There were invitations in your inbox for exhibitions and requests to purchase original files of your work. For now, you were leaving them unread.

You visited your parents once, to talk to them, but you felt strange in their home. The longer your conversation went on, the more you realized that your parents couldn’t comprehend the importance of your work to you. Nor did they understand why you were no longer enamored with the idea of a soulmate. To them, you were meandering around the world to pursue a hobby, luckily it made you quite a bit of money, but you needed to settle down and find your other half. He was in Manhattan, they believed, so you needed to stay put. When you scoffed and said that it could very well be a “she”, they asked you to leave and think about your actions for a few days.

On a sunny May morning, as you reviewed the hundreds of pictures from your journeys, you received an e-mail from Ms. Potts. She hoped you had a fun trip, and that she’d like for you to come by for another assignment. She promised that there was a surprise.

You thought the surprise was that the Avengers Tower was now called Avengers Facility and was outside of town. It wasn’t. The surprise also wasn’t the chauffer who pulled up the next day to drive you there.

You balked at the size of the estate upon seeing it. She met you once again at the door, first to give you a hug and ask about your travels, then as if she’d done something wrong, Ms. Potts bashfully straightened her skirt and led you in. You laughed and returned the hug, thanking her for the bonus; it had gotten you through more than 5 countries in almost two years, after all.

The contract she slid under your nose was entirely review same guidelines as before. There were new specifications, however, four new Avengers: Samuel Thomas “Sam” Wilson, James Buchanan “Bucky” Barnes, Pietro Maximoff, and Wanda Maximoff. You had heard about Sokovia while you were travelling- it happened while you were in Thailand, and Sergeant Barnes’ investigation and trial was on the news during your entire stay in Saudi Arabia. It was very, very recent.

“I thought you might like an additional photo to your Peculiar Pairs Series,” Ms. Potts smiled, “Wanda and Pietro are bonded,”

Your eyes must have looked like saucers. You’d never seen it before- soulmate twins! There were old folktales, of course, but you didn’t think it was real. You gasped in disbelief and ransacked your brain for an appropriate response. What kind of words would they have said to each other? Babies don’t have a concept of language? What was it like growing up together- what is their relationship with each other like? What did their family think?

You sputtered.

“I… Only with their permission, of course!”

Pepper laughed, “Yes, of course. Come on, let’s go see everyone.”

It was then that a wave of nausea hit you, thinking suddenly about Captain Rogers and the awful feeling your stomach gets around him. It was such an embarrassing thing to admit and be helpless to control. You often wondered to yourself if you were reacting so extremely because he scared you? No, he didn’t. Did you like him? Well, you didn’t know him. You were attracted to him, yes, but who wasn’t?

Captain Rogers had been in your textbook since you were a little girl. You went to the museum in Brooklyn multiple times and gazed at his uniform and peered at his photographs alongside Sergeant Barnes. He was handsome in such a honest and gentle way, someone once upon a time you might have dreamt of being your soulmate. He had beautiful blue eyes and a boyish grin, even as a man. You always thought even before the serum, you could have liked him. It wasn’t like you were a very tall woman, anyway.

You rubbed your sternum discreetly as you slipped behind Ms. Potts.

“Please call me Pepper,” she said abruptly, as if she were letting out a too-big breath of air, “Please. And Tony would love it if you’d call him y’know, by his first name too.”

You blushed. You’d just never been that way. But you promised her to try.

“I understand we’re all much older, but just get into the habit, yeah? Wanda and Pietro are your age, and wouldn’t it be weird to call them Mr. and Ms. Maximoff?”

You agreed.

After a few long hallways, the turn led into a large sitting space illuminated by an entire wall made of windows. A large sectional was placed in the center of the room along with some single sofas and bean bags. There was a bookshelf along one wall and a flat-screen across from the seats. All eyes turned to you when you entered. You recognized them- Tony, Natasha, Steve, Bucky Barnes, the Maximoff Twins, and Sam Wilson. Apprehension flooded your core at the sight of the Captain. Sergeant Barnes, who sat beside him, seemed to be glaring.

“Ah! There’s my favorite little P.R. twerp!” Tony Stark cried as he slid across the rug, arms outstretched, “Missed your photos, kid, I’ve got one of me blown up in the master right now. It’s fantastic.”

“Thanks, Tony,” You replied shyly, feeling a bit silly for taking so long to make the switch. Tony gasped dramatically and pretended to be on the verge of tears, punctuating his display with a loud, “Finally!”

Natasha came to hug you as well, whispering a greeting in your ear and congratulating you on all the good fortune with your travels.

The twins regarded you wordlessly, both giving curt nods and gazing at your camera bag. You returned the gesture, placing your hand on the strap to move the bag out of view- you didn’t want to take their picture until they were ready, regardless of what the contract stated. Sam Wilson came to shake your hand and introduce himself. He was very charming, you noted, and definitely knew how to hold a conversation- maybe being the most normal person here.

“I’m such a fan of your work,” he said with a smile, “It’s such a refreshing take on an old, trite thing.” You thanked him in response, grabbing the strap of your camera bag nervously. It was a habit you were trying to let go of, but receiving compliments was still something you handled poorly.

Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes had been standing since you and Pepper entered the room. You noticed that the Captain cut his hair shorter than you’d seen it before. Two years ago, it was longer on top and brushed to the side. He tentatively gave you a small smile and waved, unsure of your reaction.  

When you smiled back, he exhaled loudly, “It’s good to see you,”

“You too, Captain”

There was a sudden sensation prickling at your flesh. At first it tickled, like a brush, but then it hit you like a staccato of needles stabbing into the skin of your chest. Your face contorted into an expression of confusion before the pain hit, hands pulling the strap of the camera bag down roughly to investigate the source of your agony. You backed up into a chair. Natasha and Pepper rushed over. The sweltering feeling grew as you struggled to unbutton your shirt, finally giving up and tearing it halfway down the middle.

As the buttons scattered, you watched in horror as black words appeared on your sternum, all capital letters running up your chest in a straight line: it’s good to see you.

Captain Rogers groaned audibly and fell backwards onto the couch as he frantically rolled up the sleeve of his shirt to see your words appear on his left bicep, cursive script running in a circle to disappear and return around. The room was filled with gasps and clattering chairs as the watchers began to realize what was unfolding. Sergeant Barnes leaned down to examine his friend, fearfully looking back and forth between the two of you.

“Jesus Christ!” He cried, as the Captain’s handwriting stopped carving into your skin. Your gasps were beginning to subside when he called out, but when those words left his lips, you began to feel it again, this time overtaking your arm. You couldn’t remain balanced on the chair any longer as you doubled over in pain, sliding onto the floor, just out of reach of Natasha’s steadying hands on you.

Underneath the loose sleeve of your speckled navy and white button up, the Sergeant’s words appeared in thick, heavy strokes of half-cursive, half-print: Jesus Christ.

The room froze in disbelief. Everyone looked from you to the Captain, to the Sergeant. Even your tears subsided for the time being while your heart hammered in your chest. There was ringing in your ears as you tried to still your panting, your hands trembled as they touched the newly formed Words on your left arm.

Sergeant Barnes slowly rose to his feet, staring at you. The Captain did the same. The three of you knew why this was happening, but not quite what it meant, or what it involved for your futures. Captain Rogers extended his hand first, and you slowly slipped shaky fingers into his large palm. It engulfed your hand in a compassionate but strong grip, and you couldn’t help but admire the way his arm flexed ever so slightly as he pulled you up. The touch had an immediate response. It felt like the first time you stepped on warm sand, or the feeling of an ice pack on your head in the throes of a fever. In Captain Rogers’ eyes, you could see the same emotions overpowering him.

“Say something to him,” he whispered. You gulped, looking at the Sergeant, waiting by his side, lips parted in anticipation. You shook your head wildly, afraid. Your first words to Captain Rogers were so dull already- what could you say to the Sergeant? You were racking your brain for phrases you’d memorized over time when he spoke up.

“Say somethin’, please,” Sergeant Barnes’ icy blue eyes urged you with a frantic plea, “There’s nothin’ that wouldn’t be just exactly how it should.”

Your stomach turned again and you reflexively placed a hand to your torso, suddenly reminded that your shirt was undone, your breasts barely covered by the sides of fabric. Captain Rogers pulled it shut for you, sliding one seam over another, and lightly touched your collarbone before letting his hand fall back to his side. It was a deliberate motion; the desire to pull you up into his arms and hide you away in his room was riotous in his mind, and it was taking all of him to be still.

“I’m not so bad, am I?” the Sergeant took a step forward, expression faltering on the cusp of sorrow. You opened your mouth to speak but couldn’t find what to say. He was a complete stranger- just another legend you grew up with, like the Captain, like soulmates and the idea of love. But he was right now in front of you, he was proof that the legends you’d been disregarding for the past 4 years existed, as much as you wished they didn’t. His hand brushed your cheek, tucking a strand of loose hair behind your ear, and leaving a tingling path in its wake.

“This… can’t be real,” You gasped absentmindedly as his thumb traced a line down your jaw. When your eyes started to fill up again with tears, you didn’t know, but they were cascading down your face as Sergeant Barnes sucked in a sharp breath. His full bottom lip rolled between his teeth as he unbuttoned the loose Henley. Your eyes travelled slowly down each button. At the edge of the slit in his shirt, there they were, the Words… your Words: this can’t be real. They were in the same position as Captain Rogers’ Words on your own chest. Sergeant Barnes exhaled shakily as the letters finished their scorching trail on him. The three of you stared at each other, heaving in unison, panting, steadying the furious butterflies in your stomachs.

Sam Wilson was the first to speak up, shattering the silence with the question everyone else thought, “What just happened?”

It shook you from your daze. Both of Pepper’s hands were clasped over her mouth. Natasha looked astonished, but intrigued. Tony slowly made his way to Pepper and pulled her hands down, gripping it tight in his, his eyes remained transfixed on the three of you on the floor the entire time. The twins sat in silence, fingers intertwined with pleased smiles.  

“This is incredible,” Pepper sighed, “I’ve only heard stories,”

“You... all are soulmates?” Sam asked

You looked back and forth between the two men at your side, unsure of how to answer. You could only think of the time you met John in Prospect Park with Francis and Marilynn. Tony seemed to recall that photo as well and spoke up in clear voice over his shoulder.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., pull up the Peculiar Pairs photo gallery on the T.V.” The flatscreen hummed to life as Tony scrolled to the last images of the set. There were three elderly people sitting on the bench together, holding each others’ hands. Francis on the left, John in the middle, Marilynn on the right, all smiles. Tony traced the Words on Francis’ wrist and Words on Marilynn’s collarbone. John sat happily between them, two sets of words etched on the same spaces: wrist and collarbone.

Tony pointed to you, “Same thing,” he said with a slight jerk of his neck, “You got Capsicle’s words on your chest, Count Buckula’s words on your arm… and he’s—” a slide to the right of his finger, pointing to Captain Rogers, “—got your words on his arm… and those words are on his chest…” the finger slid to the other side, at the Sergeant.

Both of Tony’s hands came to rest on his hips as he regarded you almost proudly. “I can’t believe it, kid, you got two soulmates.” It seemed like the speech would end there, but Tony’s eye began to twinkle mischievously, and a deviant smirk overtook his previously harmless smile, “Oh my, my, my, my, my, aren’t you three going to be having some adventurous s- Ah!”

Pepper had punched him before he could finish his sentence, and began to twist his ear, dragging him out of the room with a very sympathetic apology. The rest of the Avengers followed suit, loudly clearing their throats, offering you congratulations and smiles as a dark pink blush spread over your cheeks. The Maximoffs were the last to leave. Pietro strode casually to the hallway but lingered in the shadow as Wanda put her hand on your shoulder with a knowing smile. She pulled up the sleeve of her flowing blouse and showed you her brother’s mark--- a long curved line, punctuation with a frenzy of dashes and dots at the end. “Do not worry. It is meant to be how it is meant to be,”

At her brother’s bidding, Wanda slipped away as well, following him down the hall.

You were left alone with them. The two men standing in front of you stiff like statues, hands clenched tightly at their sides. You didn’t know what to do with your own body, either, as it hummed and positioned to their frequency. There was a vibration that was unmoving, a tune that was noiseless, a thread hanging onto all three of you, stringing you together. Your legs were beginning to shake.

Sergeant Barnes noticed and led you to the couch as Captain Rogers pushed two loose sofas closer so that they could sit facing you. He was careful to give you as much space as you needed, so long as it didn’t entirely take you away. The very sight of you now, etched with his Words gave him the clarity he’d been searching for nearly his entire life. He didn’t need verbal verification to know that Bucky also felt the same way.  

Your gaze slowly traveled up to the sandy-haired man sitting in front, leaning forward with his elbows resting atop of his knees. You’d known this man for years, but somehow in this moment, he looked so strange and unfamiliar. His brow creased with curiosity. You were sure this wasn’t how he – either of them- must have imagined meeting their soulmate. You were just some kid. Christ, fifteen minutes ago, you were still rejecting the idea of soulmates!

The markings on your body began to feel heavy with each acrimonious thought. Your chest tightened up again, stomach squeezing itself inside of you. Tears started to fall from your eyes as the room caved in. Your heart felt so full, as if it could burst from your chest at any minute if you let it. Your hands moved on their own, grabbing at your chest and arm, scratching wrathfully at the Words’ inscription on your body. You didn’t ask for this. You didn’t want it. You refused it.

In the darkness of the chamber, you heard someone say, “She’s having a panic attack, Buck,”

A warm hand found itself against your back, rubbing large lines up and down your spine leisurely. Another hand was rubbing against the narrow plane in between your breasts, but it was cold and made you shiver. Someone’s hands were tucking your hair behind both ears, sweetly wiping away the tears that ran freely and gathered under your chin. You felt so small against them, leaning sadly into the warmth, shuddering sobs shaking your frame.

“Breathe… breathe, there you go, hon’, you’re doing great,”

The blackness soon began to fade, and you struggled to follow the rhythmic directions being whispered into your ear. New tears were shushed away gently by another voice, like an ocean breeze blowing away sand. Your hands clenched severely to your thighs, but soon were peeled away and held in a grasp that burned like a furnace. When the light returned to your field of vision, you could make out the Captain and Sergeant giving you encouraging smiles.

“I’m.. sorry,” you wheezed hoarsely. You hadn’t experienced one of these since early college.

“Don’t apologize, it’s a lot to take in,” Captain Rogers spoke, squeezing your left hand in his. At the sensation, you looked down to see your small hand, once again, engulfed in his and laughed loudly, surprising them both. They were glad to see you laughing, at least, and only raised their eyebrows to question it. You shook your head, not knowing where to start, pulling your hand away and wrapping both arms around your legs. You didn’t notice Captain Rogers’ expression.

“How does this work, Captain?” You asked, murmuring, in hopes that if they didn’t hear you, maybe you could just avoid talking about it forever. “There’s… two of you… the Sergeant, I.. this… we’ve only just met.” You squeezed your puffy eyes shut, feeling your poor head starting to hurt.

“Please,” he called, “Please…” it was pleading, soft and slow, so, so desperate, “Call me Steve, please.”

You swallowed, trying the sound out over your tongue gently, “Steve,” You chanced a look over to his left, where icy blue eyes wandered over your face.

“You’ve got more options with me, hon’” a smile graced Sergeant Barnes, and you started to notice just how much more handsome he was in person. All those museum photos could never capture the sharpness of his jaw, or the way his stubble worked to frame his face, or the dip in his chin that seemed to make his rather intense features so agreeable. His long hair was much nicer in person than it was on all those breaking news broadcasts. His blue gaze was brighter than you could have ever imagined from those black and white reels. You licked your lips idly, and flushed pink when both men followed the trajectory of your tongue and lingered on your mouth.

“Bucky work for you? If not, you can call me James,” “That’s his government name,” Steve quipped, getting smirks from both of you.

You tried both, and promised you would try to settle on Bucky. Neither of them felt right anyway, since you’d grown up categorizing any information you knew of him under “Sergeant Barnes”. You relayed the information to them, and added that frankly, it unsettled you to call Steve by his first name too. They, in return, promised to be patient.

“What if… its’ wrong?” Your face contorted, your eyes were flashing from Steve to Bucky, back to Steve, back to Bucky. Your brain was revving up, “I mean, soulmates, you know? What is that? Right?” God, you were rambling, but you couldn’t stop. “Shouldn’t we choose who we love? We’re… god, we were born decades apart. You guys are… superhuman.. and I’m just 23…! Compared to you, you’re legends, you’re Avengers, you save the damn world? Oh my god, I just take pictures of people.”

“I’ve never even kissed a boy.” You said suddenly, squeezing your eyes shut. There were flashbacks to all the times you’d run away from boys, or during the speed-meets when you’d stare longingly into someone’s eyes for the good span of five seconds before having to do it again with someone else thirty more times, or in undergrad, when you tried to go on a date with Nathan Young but when he dropped you off at home and put his hand on your thigh, you bolted.

Bucky and Steve laughed in relief as you slid your head in-between your hands. They shared a knowing look with each other before Bucky slid his hooked finger under your chin and turned you upward to gaze at him.

“Sweetheart, you don’t gotta kiss anyone unless you want to,” he assured, “We just want to be with you,”

They laughed again in unison. Bucky leaned back on the sofa and put both arms behind his neck, letting Steve explain.

“We’re eager, but we understand. I’ve waited for so long. We’ve tried to ignore fate… with dating,” A snort from Bucky confirmed his fact, “It never worked out.” Steve continued, “I feel it, in my gut, this is right. Can’t you? Buck and I, we’ve known each other since we were in diapers; there are no secrets between us.”  

You placed a hand on your stomach, feeling it settle strangely, wondering if the sickness you’d experienced in the past around Steve was a sign you wrongfully chalked up to your anxiety. He seemed to hear your thoughts and nodded, letting you know that the fateful day in the conference room, when he reached his quarters, he had developed an angry red rash across his arm. He was curious, but since you were keen on avoiding him, he let you have your space. Now, as the three of you sat in each other’s company, you couldn’t help but wonder if the universe needed all of you together for the Words to work.

You asked them for their patience. You needed to go home, let the information settle, do some work to calm down, maybe. You could tell that Bucky was hesitant to let you go, but Steve assured him it would be fine. He asked for you to return soon, because as you knew, soulmates who were already bound to each other with Words, suffered each other’s maladies, and he was honest in letting you know that it would hurt him to not be close to you.

When you quietly got ready to leave, Bucky broke the silence by asking your name- a fact you’d forgotten to give in the chaos of the Binding. He repeated it, over and over again, tongue touching the top of his mouth in deliberate flicks, as if it was holy. Steve walked you to the car and watched it until you disappeared into the horizon.

Upon returning to the lounge area where Bucky sat, pained expression casting harsh shadows on his face, Steve placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder. Bucky understood the implication of the hand—a request to keep his promise of patience. He wanted to, for you. He wanted to do anything for you.

“She’s gotta come back, Stevie,” he muttered, hand reaching up into his shirt to trace the words. Steve assured him that she would. “I can’t stand it, Stevie, all those times in the chair, when they were scrambling my brain,” his voice dropped low, “I was thinkin’ about her. I could feel her somewhere, not knowing what she looked like or anything, but just feel her. Can’t stand it that she doesn’t want to be here now.”

Steve didn’t need his friend to finish the sentence to know what he meant.

“Buck, if we push her, we’ll lose her. I want the same thing, but she needs to come to that conclusion on her own.”

That night, as you fell into your bed, a message blinked on your phone- an e-mail from Pepper. It was the picture you took of of John, Francis, and Marilynn- from Prospect Park, beaming on that old wooden bench next to the birdbath. A single question was written beneath the photograph.

It worked out for them, didn’t it?

Next Chapter

[clansayeed]

Bound by Destiny II, part 1 ― Chapter 31: The Last Act part 2

PAIRING: Kamilah Sayeed x MC (Nadya Al Jamil) RATING: Mature

⥼ MASTERLIST ⥽

⥼ Bound by Destiny II, part 1 ⥽

While struggling with nightmares of lives she’s never lived, a shadow from the past looming over her city, and the proposed idea that her life may just be a little bit too weird to handle alone, Nadya makes sure to tell herself that everything is perfect just the way it is. If only. When the self-proclaimed King of Vampires (and Maker of her sometimes-girlfriend and always-boss, can’t forget that little tidbit) Gaius Augustine returns intent on claiming Manhattan as the throne that was promised, she and her friends find themselves forced into the task of saving the world. But with millennia-old vampires and an Order of hunters on their heels as well as allies hiding catastrophic secrets at their backs… it won’t be an easy task. Too bad destiny didn’t exactly ask for her input.

Bound by Destiny II and the rest of the Oblivion Bound series is an ongoing dramatic retelling project of the Bloodbound series and spin-off, Nightbound. Find out more [HERE].

TAG LIST: @googlesentmehere, @cess02, @hellyeah90sbaby,

*Let me know if you would like to be added to the Destiny II tag list!

⥼ Chapter Summary ⥽

Gaius has sent Isseya to Paris with one mission: bring Nadya back to him at any cost. Things go about halfway as planned, and Cadence unwittingly rekindles an ancient rivalry. The fate of New York is revealed.

[READ IT ON AO3]

“Allez, for fuck’s sakes will you two move faster!”

They hear the crash and shatter of glass doors through the still-open window. No time to close it now. No time to do anything. Oh god.

“It’s a delicate-fucking-process!” Cadence snaps back, fangs bared, but this time Serafine meets him eye for eye and, well, fang for fang.

“Then be delicate, but be quick about it. We’ll try to stay together, but if splitting up becomes necessary, we meet up in the heart of the city as planned, yes?”

Nadya’s no use, still a little weak in the knees and there’s no way she was going to be able to help carry Lily in the event of an emergency evacuation from their hiding hole anyway. She hangs back, makes sure to stay out of the way, but keeps looking back and forth at the moving vampires hard enough to crack something in her neck.

“Nadya —” Serafine shoves a duffel bag into her hands; she fumbles but manages to hold onto a zipper, “— to the kitchen. Get as much of your blood as you can carry.”

She sees the flicker of hesitation in Nadya’s eyes, the way she looks over the woman’s shoulder to where Adrian and Cadence shoulder Lily’s limp weight as fast as they can without too much disturbance.

With a huff, Serafine grabs Nadya’s upper arms hard enough to hurt. Fresh bruises, that’s why it hurts. Fleetingly she remembers Valdas; the fingertip-touch.

“I need you to trust me right now. Trust that we will get Lily out of here safely. Please, petit. We are in more danger than you can fathom.”

She can fathom it pretty well, thanks. But Nadya nods and bolts off to do whatever (little) she can.

There’s a collective regret about the open window again — the next sound to catch on the wind sounds like banshees shrieking at midnight.

They’re getting closer.

“Argh,” Adrian growls in frustration, “just give her to me, here — watch the head.” He cradles Lily like a long and gangly baby; but does it all on his own. Cadence flashes him a questioning look.

BANG!

That would be the stairwell door. But which floor?

“You’re the strongest of any of us right now.” Adrian rasps in one harsh breath. His struggle and care to keep the young vampire in his arms as stable as possible is taking its toll on his still-starving body. “You’ve taken her on before, can you do it again?”

Serafine stops, rope in a loop over her shoulder (where did she… nevermind). She looks between the pair with growing panic as it dawns on her, suddenly, that they aren’t nearly as panicked about their incoming visitors as she is.

“That harpy of Les Trois Amants is the least of our problems right now —” she looks at them all in a whirlwind, “— or don’t you recognize the man at her side?”

Jax shrugs. “It’s not the other guy with a buzz-cut, right?”

“This isn’t the time for jokes!”

Serafine’s voice croaks; she lets out a strangled noise. Adrian shifts, wants to reach out for her, but has to think better of it for Lily’s sake. Nadya doesn’t let his sacrifice go unnoticed.

“Calm down, Serafine. Who is this guy?” And it pains her, that much is obvious, but she tries.

“That is Marc Antony, you fools.”

Another BANG! punctuates the silence; how they take in the reality and gravity of her revelation.

Nadya clears her throat. “You mean, like…”

“Like Gaius’ consolation prize after he failed to secure Caesar for his Court. Arguably a better choice for the King; and a terrible sentencing for the world.”

BANG! And this one is louder than the rest. They’re at the end of the hall. Probably not anymore.

“Processlater—runnow!”

Nadya turns and the door splinters open at her back. She grabs for the duffel strap across her chest, barely one foot off the ground—

Then the world is going sideways, Nadya’s going backward, and her head slams into the dated plaster hard and heavy and hurting. She slumps down, head hanging forward, and struggles to swallow down her bile.

Black boots come into view, their owner looming over her.

Isseya crouches down, dusting plaster from her leather pants. “Hello again, little Bloodkeeper.”

A familiar pain ignites atop her head. Isseya’s nails like claws raking over her scalp to yank her up by the knotted locks in her hair. Holding her on the tips of her toes like a puppet on strings.

“You—don’t—” teeth clenched, burning tears in her eyes keeping the woman a dark blur of red eyes and shining fangs, “—please—don’t do—this—”

Isseya snarls and leans forward, the soft whisper of her lips a stark contrast to the raw wound of her words.

“I gave you a chance to avoid this, girl. You wasted it—you did. Don’t tell me I don’t have to do shit. You’ve given us no other choice.”

Nadya can only sob; words beyond her now.

“Isseya!”

The woman whirls around at her name; shouted over the crack of splintering wood as Serafine and Antony move as blurs only distinguishable by color and size. Splinters of wood cut into Nadya’s cheeks and she tries to recoil, turning her face away in just enough time to see Cadence braced in the doorway to the kitchen.

Surprise—pain—loss—anger—hatred. There one instant and gone the next in a whirlwind. Isseya can’t tell who she wants to hate more; him for calling out to her with that voice he knows she could never ignore or herself for falling for it time and time again.

Jax comes out of seemingly nowhere at her side. Doesn’t give Isseya the moment’s rest to decide where to aim her anger as he shoves his boot in the middle of his chest. A powdery print left in the center before she goes flying backwards into the far wall.

“Nadya! Come on!”

Everything ringing in her ears.

“Get her out of here!”

Jax’s hand on her wrist, pulling her towards the open window. Adrian clings tightly onto the fragile form still in his arms, one foot over the wall and out into the night but he’s frozen in place, fixated; focus pulled to the iron-wrought grip Antony has on Serafine’s sword arm before he snaps it at the wrong angle.

“It’s been some time, Serafine.”

She snarls, bestial; in a way Nadya had previously thought only reserved for Cadence and Cynbel. “Not—nngh—long enough, I assure you!”

He laughs, deep and rich and so damn casual for the moment at hand. “You wound me!”

“Not to worry—I’m trying!”

A tight grip on Nadya’s upper arm makes her jump violently — Jax rounds in front of her hard and resolute.

“Go, follow Adrian. I’ll be right behind you.”

“But—” Back to Serafine who resorts to shouldering the older vampire through the wall of what was temporarily Nadya’s bedroom. To the thud of Cadence as he collides back to the floor, Isseya wrenching herself out from under dust and the upended coffee table to bear down on him in fury. “—Jax I can’t—”

“NO, Nadya! Not this time!” He shakes her roughly. “Do you understand me?! They want you, they can’t get you! Now GO!”

Nadya is turned and shoved towards the open window before she can get another word out. Adrian’s body angled towards her, reaching out the only way he can. He jerks his chin down to the knot of rope pooled at his feet. “They’ll cover us for as long as they can. Come on.”

“We can’t leave them!” Because surely if anyone—anyone—understands, it’s him.

And he does. It’s all over his face; and covered with the same resolute decision he had tried to pull on her back in the Cathedral.

“I—I know. But this…” His gaze drops down to her feet and goes wide with shock; fear. “Nadya, you’re bleeding.”

Huh? She wipes her hand over her head but it comes back dry. Nothing over her front, then she feels the trickle down the back of her leg. Looks down in horror to see the blood seeping into the carpet at her feet.

The duffel.

Her blood!

Isseya had slammed her into the wall and the collision must have broken the seals on the blood bags inside. “We can’t go without it!”

“Nadya—no—”

“Lily doesn’t stand a chance without it—and I did not go through that hell to lose her now!”

Adrian tries to grab her but catches himself at the last second — swooping one arm back under Lily before her body hits the floor. Nadya can hears him shout behind her but his words are lost in the chaos. She’s already skidding on her knees through the fallen doorway to the kitchen.

There’s no time to be squeamish now. Not even with the coppery smell hits her nostrils, bag hurled back over her shoulder and already dripping red through the nylon. Nadya grits her teeth and starts yanking the old bags out to scatter on the floor. You’ve literally held your own guts in with your bare hands, she reminds herself with bitter determination, this is for Lily—don’t forget this is for Lily.

Inside the fridge there are only a handful of bags left. She had grabbed as much as she could and look how that turned out. The rest is useless; smeared, splattered in uneven patterns over the tile around her. The cold plastic slips through her red fingers; once, twice, and with a scream of wordless noise the third time she manages to get them close enough to scoop into the bag at her feet.

“Come on… come on…” Stupid fingers stop slipping on the stupid zipper! Fuck! She has no other choice she can see, and bends down to bite hard on the metal and yank the duffel closed.

Yes! Once the bag is securely back around her Nadya scrambles to stand, to turn and run as fast as her legs will carry her back to the window and Adrian and—

And instead she collides with a vampire as solid as stone for the second time tonight.

“A pleasure to finally make your acquaintance, Miss.”

Nadya looks up just in time to see the last of Serafine’s attack knit closed across the curve of Antony’s cheek. He shakes it off like one might a pesky fly; all of his focus trained on the heavy hands he rests on her shoulders. “The infamous Bloodkeeper… you really are the talk of the Court. I found myself unable to pass up the opportunity to meet you in person.”

She tries to break free; even when it feels like he’s pressing her down so hard she’ll break through the floor she tries as hard as she can. But the tile is slick with blood and he’s two thousand years old and at this point she’s experienced this enough to know exactly how badly it can go.

“Can’t say the feeling’s mutual.”

Antony’s amusement falters; the barest betrayal of a frown. “I see. Best we take care of this swiftly, then.”

Before he can move the sound of a cracking neck breaks the strangely echoing silence.

“My sentiments exactly.”

Then there’s a different grip on Nadya’s wrist — people need to stop manhandling her this is getting ridiculous — and it’s tugging her to the side just in time for a blurred movement to send Antony soaring through the air and back into the interior wall.

The lights flicker once—twice—and die. The room plunged into darkness. Sparks flashing from torn wires in the hole in the wall, the electricity crackling violent and intense.

Gooseflesh prickles over her arms and Nadya holds her hands up, like that’ll defend her from anything, but no touch comes.

“Are you okay?” asks Cadence; and when her eyes adjust to the lack of light she finds him on one knee in front of her; looking over her blood-soaked clothes to see how much of it is freshly spilled. “You should have listened to R—”

The sound of shifting wood and rubble cuts him off. Antony stands from the mess with tears in his suit and a piece of his lower jaw sitting at an odd angle. He sets it with a quick twist of his neck and steps out of the heap; eyes leveling bright and red on Cadence’s face with an unfamiliar recognition.

Cadence locks with tension in front of her. She knows that reaction all too well, now. Both of them do.

“I admit none of us really believed in your miraculous return, Pathicus,” Antony muses, cracking his knuckles on each hand, rolling his shoulders; proving he can shake them off with barely a thought.

“I’ll give you cover,” hisses Cadence without turning back to look at her, “when I say run… you run.”

“But on the bright side, I’m glad for it.”

“Cade—”

“No arguments. Yes?”

“Yes.” She finally says, and only then does he let her go.

Cadence stands, feet planted and shoulders squared. Something about the sight makes Antony’s upper lip curl.

“I would have loathed not to have been there to do the deed myself.”

“You and quite a few others.”

“Seniority rules.”

Nadya swallows her heart back into her chest. It pounds so fast, so loud — she nearly misses it.

“RUN!” He shouts, moments before the heel of Antony’s palm slams into his lower jaw.

Blood splatters in droplets on the floor. Tiny little garnets that slick and smear underfoot as strength battles strength battles something else — something a little more like the will of survival.

Cadence collapses back, limbs flailing, and collides with the small kitchen table. The wood is weak, can’t bear the full brunt of his weight, and together they crash to the floor violently. The loud noise is enough to shake Nadya from her stupor and send her practically dancing back on both feet to avoid being caught in the heap.

She’s terrified. Again. That seems to be happening a lot lately.

But she doesn’t want to abandon him like this — no matter how strong his opponent is. The last time she did it hadn’t been Cadence who came back.

What if this time is the same?

Perhaps the scariest part is how human Antony’s eyes look as he swing his head around. Gaze level, watching Nadya brace herself in the middle of the doorway trying to decide whether to run forward or back, and still that same warm brown color. Not how a vampire is supposed to look, she thinks.

But this isn’t a vampire. This is… yeah she’s still trying to wrap her head around the reality of how that sentence ends. Marc Antony, the vampire.

“Shame you don’t listen very well.”

Marc Antony, the vampire; who is no longer across the room and instead right up in Nadya’s face. Who snatches a hand out and grabs her wrist hard enough to break. “I won’t say this is my favorite part. But those of us who know how the game is played… we don’t break the rules when we don’t need to.”

There’s a blur of darkness over his shoulder; movement too fast for her mortal eyes. Then Nadya cries out in surprise; sharp pain, bright white behind her eyes squeezed tightly closed, and the hold on her wrist is gone in the next instant.

Bloodied knuckles in a grip tight around a tanned throat, the wounds already healed over. The no-doubt expensive leather of Antony’s boots squeaking against the floor, trying and failing to gain his footing. But Cadence is taller and holds him aloft and pinned against the far wall with ease.

That… is Cadence, right?

Because she’s not sure. Between the safe at Persephone and the top part of the Feral’s head torn off and flying across the Manor hall and the way there’s no comparison—none at all—when Jax is backhanded hard enough to fly through the air and every warning Serafine ever screamed through her tears; she just isn’t. Countless times, all of them unmatched — and what they meant about who—or what—was actually standing in front of her now.

“C—” She tries to call out a name, but her voice freezes on which one to say. She doesn’t know.

“You know… there were more than a few times I was beaten to a pulp by Carlo’s men.” And the sheer relief when she recognizes the name from New Orleans is enough to punch the air from Nadya’s lungs; tears salty on her tongue while she cradles her wrist close.

“I was fresh from the war. Still new to this life, or so I thought. They had been in the de la Rosa family for a generation, some of them longer. Between then and now… I think I get it.”

Strands of blond hair fall thin in front of Cadence’s eyes. Nadya can see the bright red of them reflected in the backdrop of the night sky from the kitchen window. He lifts Antony higher and with no effort at all.

“I lost to those men because I expected to lose; because I thought there was no other option. I thought I was younger, so my body acted like it.” Shoulders tensing, rolling back; for the first time a flicker of concern wavers Antony’s steady frown. “Following that same logic now… I’ve got quite a few centuries on you, don’t I, domine?”

He tosses Antony aside like a doll; like he weighs nothing at all. A flick of his wrist that sends the former Roman general right in the path of the fridge. The metal catches him, cradles him; door bending inward and the contents of the shelves joining the mess on the floor. The lightbulb inside shatters under the pressure and the distant, white-noise hum of the fan splutters and dies.

But this time Antony was ready. This time he leaps back to his feet without respite and brushes the fall off of his shoulder with a flippant hand. “There’s that look. That arrogance. I prefer it this way — better a fair fight than none at all.”

Everything shifts; the air, the tension, the looks on the vampires’ faces. So fast Nadya almost misses them. Maybe she would have — were she not the Bloodkeeper. But she is, and she doesn’t miss a thing.

Because she can feel it all.

Centuries piled on in staggering weight and animosity; changing both everything and, outwardly, nothing at all. But he’s leveled the playing field now. Nadya feels it. Antony, too.

They all do.

“What… are you?”

His shoulders sink slightly, but he doesn’t turn around at the sound of Isseya’s voice. Not when it’s a whisper, and not when it’s a cracked, splintered fragment of a scream. “Answer me!”

“I don’t have an answer to give.”

“Lies.”

“If I did, I would. Everything would be so much easier on all of us.”

The vampiress steadies herself on the door frame, impressions of her fingertips pressing down and breaking the drywall.

“‘All of us,’” she repeats — like she doesn’t know the language, “meaning…”

The blond vampire looks up and Nadya’s heart stops.

It’s an opening Antony cannot and will not waste. Rushing forward, fangs bared — but even he isn’t fast enough to avoid the hand that catches him by the back of the neck. Claws piercing flesh, blood spotting along his collar. He tries to turn, to see the face that caught him by surprise, but doesn’t get the chance before the grip closes down and his neck snaps with a sickening crack.

Antony’s eyes are closed before he even makes it to the ground.

Isseya steps over his body — still a body, Nadya notices, not a pile of ash — and closes the gap between herself and Cadence. One hand with fingertips still stained with Antony’s blood comes up and strokes the cut of his jaw.

The pair share the same look; like reflections. Longing, loss, pangs of regret. After a moment, Cadence finally reaches up and presses his palm against her cheek.

“I’m not him.” He whispers hoarsely.

Together they stand still; years stretching through the passing seconds. Finally Isseya lets her eyes flutter closed. The tears clinging to her dark lashes finally get the chance to fall.

“I know.” She shudders a gasp; breathes through the daggers in her chest sharper than they were all the years before. “Consider this to be my last act of free will.”

So that’s what Valdas had meant.

There’s a shine in Cadence’s eyes. He parts his lips, looks for a moment like he’s going to do it — he’s going to tell her about the Cathedral, about what happened, about…

The moment passes when Isseya steps away.

“He won’t stay down for long, resilient bastard,” she looks over her shoulder to Antony’s unconscious form, “though I’ll admit I’ve been waiting to do that for weeks now. It’s not as satisfying as I thought it would be…”

Nadya swallows. “Is he still…?” But Isseya’s sharp look cuts her off with a flinch.

“Yes, he’s still alive. And I can’t be gone when he comes to. Not if I have any intention of returning to Valdas.”

There’s no question about it. So why does Cadence ask?

“What if you came back with us? We could —”

“No.” The sharp edges, barely easing up, are back without warning. Isseya’s glare is cold and growing all the more distant. “I wouldn’t — I couldn’t. But—neither can you.” She looks between Nadya and Cadence both. “It would be a death sentence, and would make this, here, look like a kindness. Surely you know by now.”

“Nadya!”

Shit.

The anger in Jax’s growl breaks any spell that might have held them all there — maybe for eternity if they weren’t careful. Nadya dashes back into the living room and gasps, hand coming over her mouth, at the mess of mangled bruises and gaping wounds riddled across Serafine’s body.

Jax is kneeling at her side; looks up just in time to push every ounce of his frustration in one long look, before he jerks his chin up at her.

“The blood. Now.”

Nadya struggles to pull it over her head fast enough, skidding to her knees beside Jax in time for him to grab it and rip the zip apart with brute strength. He grabs one bag and forces it into her mouth; thankfully it doesn’t take much more than that for her survival instinct to kick in and fangs to descend and tear the plastic open. She takes several long drinks before her hands have the strength to grab on; reaching desperately for the second and tearing it from Jax’s grip without hesitating.

His sigh is weak, croaked and now without effort. With tentative fingers Nadya reaches up and brushes away some of his hair matted at his temple where a cut still oozes thin blood. There’s one blood bag left — she doesn’t think twice before all but forcing it into his hand.

“You too,” she insists — thankfully for them both he’s too exhausted and weak to decline.

It’s not much between the pair of them. Enough to stop the bleeding and fade most of their bruises to mottled greens and yellows but not much more. Nadya would offer her wrist, neck, ankle up to help any more if she could but she still has a few wounds of her own and her wrist is most likely very broken and not at all palatable.

Serafine slowly comes to, French mumbled and thick on her tongue as she tries to take in her surroundings. “Ad…ri…”

“He’s fine,” Nadya says — and throws a look to the window and the rope still draped over and out, “he got away. He’s safe, probably heading to the meetup point. Take it easy, you’re still healing… but…”

But she hesitates because saying anything more would be akin to lying.

Jax eases himself up with grunts of effort; helps Serafine do the same only when he’s steady on both feet. “If you think this is gonna go undiscussed, Nadya, I swear to god…”

“If I hadn’t, you wouldn’t have anything to heal with, so I don’t wanna hear it.”

“If you hadn’t—”

Cadence and Isseya shuffle out of the kitchen together and Jax practically bites off his own tongue, cutting himself off. Nadya can feel Serafine grow stony behind her and reaches out in a meek attempt at reassurance.

“What are you idiots still doing here?” Isseya snaps. Looks briefly like she has much more to add to it but she bites her tongue instead. “You are weak, and ill-fed, and need to leave. Neither Antony nor I are gravely injured. If you’re still here when he wakes up, you’re fucked.”

“What’s going on here?” Jax snarls, but the question is aimed principally at Cadence.

“She’s giving us an opening. We need to take it.”

“She came here to kidnap Nadya!”

“No, Jax, he’s right.” Nadya doesn’t smile at the vampiress — after all the pain she’s felt at the hands of this woman she doubts she ever could. But they aren’t in any position to be looking gift horses in the mouth. “I don’t trust her, but…” The look she gives him is imploring.

What other choice to do we have right now?

“This is bull —” Jax stares at each of them in disbelief. “— this is insane! We’re not trusting her. And we’re not running. We get Adrian and Lily and we get on the first plane home. I’ve had enough of this shit. I’m taking the fight to him.”

“Returning to New York is no longer an option.” Isseya meets the rebel’s glare with her own.

“I beg your fuckin’ pardon?”

The Trinity vampire sweeps a long look over them, the furrow in her brow slowly easing from disgust into… disbelief?

Raw, unfiltered disbelief at that. “You don’t know.”

“We’ve been… not here.”

“Obviously.” And both Jax and Serafine look ready to shoot down any questions she might ask, but Isseya surprises them both — she doesn’t. “Otherwise it would not have been so easy to find you, I see now. If you had known what happened… only the suicidal would have stayed somewhere he knew to find you.”

Cadence stands hunched, eyes trained down at his shoes and the bloodstains in the carpet. She’s already told him what she keeps withholding from them — awesome.

“What do you mean… what happened?” asks Nadya warily. No one else does.

“Three days ago, the last of the resisting faction was captured at the harbor. The ones you called your Clans — those who did not immediately bend the knee. I wasn’t there myself, but there were thirty, maybe forty left who were captured and taken before the Godmaker at his Court. Those who swore fealty to him were allowed to live. Those who did not…”

Her words are left hanging, but it’s not exactly hard for them to fill in. Just like it isn’t hard for Nadya to know she’s full of bullcrap — she has to be. No, really, she has to be. Because if she isn’t, that means…

That means…

“Enough of this. Go—run—hide wherever you can for as long as you can. But do not dare show your face back on his shores. He wants the Bloodkeeper,” she nods to Nadya, “he would not say why, but I don’t dare to guess. Whatever you must do, do it. But he cannot have her.”

“Tell me you’re not believing this,” mutters Jax under his breath, and from the looks of it he fully expects Serafine to take his side. Only… she doesn’t.

“Maybe not everything… but I know better than to think she would be so willing to send him to his death.” Cadence shifts under the scrutiny of the woman’s glare. Isseya, however, doesn’t seem all too perturbed by it.

“If he comes with us, we will at least be safe long enough to regroup.”

Three days ago… Because Nadya still hasn’t quite let that part go. How could they?

“Allez, Nadya, allez.” Serafine keeps a firm hand at her back, all but shoving her towards the window and the rope to freedom(?)

Instead she digs in her heels and tries to look back to Isseya, who lingers one last look at Cadence’s back before she makes for the kitchen.

“Isseya!” She calls, but goes ignored. “Isseya, wait! What happened to those who didn’t join Gaius?”

“Help me,” growls Serafine, then there’s another pair of hands helping urge Nadya out into the night.

“Isseya!”

“Nadya — stop.”

“No—shut up! Isseya! Tell me what happened!”

The shadows of the apartment swallow her up before Nadya can get her answer.

“We have to go back.”

“No, Nadya.”

“No—she needs to tell me what happened—”

“I’m sorry.”

Jax has never apologized to her before. Not even when they were facing an army of Ferals. He shouldn’t be apologizing now.

“Jax… she…”

“I’m sorry,” he repeats, and pulls her into a one-armed embrace for safety before he begins the rappel, “I’m so sorry.”

“…No…”

He holds her tight and kicks off. Serafine and Cadence keep pace on either side; agile movements down rails and pipes towards the rapidly approaching ground.

Without another word they disappear into the night.

[ussgallifrey]

Up On The Housetop

✦ Summary: You meet him in the most peculiar of ways. Or, the five times Bucky was incapable of using a door and the one time he was. ✦ Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader ✦ Warnings: Mentions of violence ✦ Word Count: 2.1k ✦ Author’s Note: I was listening to Christmas music when I had this hysterical image of Bucky crashing through a window as the song played in my head. It sparked this. 

01. Journey Coffee House, Midtown Manhattan - November 13, 2026

You're already running late for work when you enter the busy cafe. The downpour outside had spurred you on in search of something warm. Anything to get your day moving in a better direction after the failed alarm and lack of matching scrubs to wear. There's a line wrapped around the front tables, stopping with you directly off to the side of the front doors.

If you bought the boss's usual order, you might be able to smooth this right over. As the minutes tick by and the line slowly eases forward, you're praying for a miracle to get you off the hook for being so late. By the time you make it down to the hospital, you'll be at least fifteen minutes behind. Maybe a few chocolate scones would need to be bought to make it pass with the head nurse.

"Oh my god," someone behind you says before the sharp crash of glass against the floor has the place thrown into a panic.

Screams ring out as a fight rages on, only feet away from you. A soaking wet mess of black tactical trying to pull some freak in neon green off his back.

They're clambering for control over broken glass shards, sending patrons scattering in the moment. With your back pressed up against the still intact window, the men struggle past you. Before the one in black sends the other down by throwing him into a table. It splits in half with the sudden weight. And then he's on top of the guy in green.

You let the breath you were holding in finally release. The man stands up, bruised and worse for wear as he sheepishly surveys the damage. And then he's hauling the other guy off the floor and out into the downpour of the street. 

It takes you a full hour to get to work and by that point news footage of the Avengers fighting has taken over the TV at the nurse's station. A video pans across the devastation to show the Winter Soldier dragging the wannabe villain down the street.

02. Bank of America, Lower Manhattan - November 21

This week has Saturday as your one day to get all the errands done. Which, unfortunately, means going in to pay off a portion of your bank loan. Ever since last winter when the major storm in January took out your furnace and busted a water pipe in the apartment above you, things had been unbearably tight in the financial sense. But it was almost paid off, a damn year later.

You're almost finished up with the teller when a series of gunshots ring out in the open lobby. 

A startled scream escapes your throat as the world grows hazy. Surrounded by a group of guards stands a masked man. He's saying something, but you can't really hear it with the hot wave of terror running through your veins. But as people start dropping to the ground, you're quick to follow.

If it was just a robbery, there wouldn't be all the theatrics. But it seems the main guy ranting in the center of the room has a personal vendetta against this particular bank - just your luck, of course. He's got a gun pointed at an employee in a blue suit, something about past employment being vehemently spat out.

A guard pulls your purse in search of valuables - he'll be lucky if he finds anything. Maybe a handful of quarters for the vending machine and a few dollars rolling around in an otherwise empty wallet.

And then there's a burst of glass. Shielding your eyes as the decorative ceiling falls in, you hear the drop of boots on the marble floor. And then punching, shouting, more shooting. You dare a peak, finding a flash of red and black wings. Curling in further to make yourself as small as possible between the wooden divider of the teller's booth.

A final punch brings heavy breaths and then… silence. Slowly bringing your head up, you see two of the Avengers wiping blood from their mouths as they round up the group of robbers. Another rush of team members follows shortly after as they check for damage.

The Winter Soldier meets your silent gaze and he gives you a funny look in return. A small quirk of his lips as he recognizes you from the cafe just a week prior. And oddly enough, you feel yourself smiling back before an agent walks over to check you for injuries. He's already gone once you've been cleared to go.

03. Brooklyn Hospital's Emergency Department, Brooklyn - December 4

Things have been relatively calm for a Friday. Enough time in between patients gives you and a few of the other nurses a chance to put up more of the usual decorations. Snowflake garland along the main desk. A small tree in the waiting room. Stockings behind the nurse's station bearing the names of the main residents. 

"Hey, Sara? Can you hand me another one?" You ask, balancing rather haphazardly on a desk chair as you press red and green ornament stickers onto the window.

The automatic doors slide open with a rush of cold air and a loud amount of bickering. Hopping down, you catch the sight of dark crimson as two figures rush towards the desk.

"'m fine," the one says.

"Like hell you are," the other barks, seemingly holding the majority of the bleeding man's weight.

There's a flurry of people as the one is brought back to a room. 

"Yeah," Sam Wilson sighs with a heavy hand against his forehead, "He jumped from the thirty-first floor."

You gape, amazed that anyone could survive that fall - let alone walk after it. And then your brain clicks together when you realize who the two men are.

Your name is shouted from the first exam room by the doctor on call, "All hands on deck!"

In an instant, you're there with three other nurses, applying pressure to the main lacerations. Squeezing down on the right forearm as the doctor applies pressure to the massive wound on the inner thigh, the Winter Soldier groans.

And then he blinks as another nurse tries to place an oxygen mask on him before he loses consciousness. He tries to bat at it with his metal hand to little avail. But then he seems to meet your gaze. 

"'Course you'd be here."

And he laughs. He collapses back as he full-on laughs.

04. Flatbush Shopping Center, Boerum Hill - December 17

The mall is pleasantly warm but far too crowded for your taste. However, you're desperately scouring for a secret Santa gift for the Christmas Party and you've all but ran out of options before it starts in four hours. The opportunity hadn't presented itself until today, as you covered shifts and worked the graveyard hours more often than you would have liked.

It took enough energy just to throw your scrubs in the wash and eat a microwave meal before collapsing on your bed. You certainly hadn't had the energy left to actually shop. But now your time had run out and you were only allotted a few more hours before something had to be wrapped and delivered.

The crazed holiday shoppers don't fully overpower the sparkling decor, yet. The arches of garland, the silver and gold tinsel bells, the giant lighted candy canes. It's a nice change of pace from the homemade decor at the emergency room. And it smells better too, something warm and sweet wafting through the mall from Auntie Anne's. 

And then there's a cracking and shattering spray of glass as a fight breaks out. Somehow, you're not even surprised by who you see. A flash of dark hair and gleaming metal as a jingling green elf is tackled to the ground. 

A crowd's forming, phone's raised to try and capture the Winter Soldier attacking one of Santa's elves. But a spread of security guards is holding everyone back. You almost want to roll your eyes, but you can't help the smile appearing on your face. 

When it's all over and the police are toting a bruised man in elf ears through the mall, he spots you still standing by the escalator with an amused smirk on your lips.

He hides his grin as he pushes his hair back behind his ear. And then, he's actually walking over to you.

Somehow, you can't help what comes out as he stops in front of you.

"So, what's with you and glass?"

He barks a laugh and it surges right to your heart. 

05. Cranberry Street Apartments, Brooklyn Heights - December 24

The radio crackles on the kitchen counter as you finish another tray of cookies. A classic Christmas station guiding you through the late night as you strive to get that second batch done. The first had been horrifically burned on the bottom and you were ready to prove your baking skills to your family tomorrow. 

Your apartment is well decorated this time. A little here and there over the past year led to even more lights for the windows and a decent sized tree by the computer desk. You'd even managed to buy some fairy lights for above the bed, but they were definitely staying up the full year-round.

As you slide the last few cookies onto the wire rack for cooling, the radio switches over to another song.

"Up on the housetop, reindeer pause / Out jumps good ol' Santa Claus / Down through the chimney with lots of toys / All for the little ones, Christmas joys!"

You hum along, gliding across the kitchen floor. Tapping the carrot noses of your two small ceramic snowmen on the countertop.

And then… a crack of glass.

You freeze as your living room window shatters into a mess of glittering tiny blue shards. Two bodies tumble in, over the top of your couch, crashing into your coffee table and breaking it in half with the combined weight. 

Stumbling backwards into the fridge, you sink down to the floor as punches are thrown. Watching in horror as your apartment is shredded to pieces.

A broken wooden leg from the remnants of your table is used as a weapon for the Winter Soldier against a faceless enemy. It collapses onto your floor as the victor's chest heaves with deep breaths.

And then he turns, face speckled with bright red blood as he finally takes you in.

"Seriously?" you squeak from your small position on the floor.

He stands with a groan. Rubbing his hand on the back of his neck with a sheepish expression. Eyes shining with something sweet and amusing.

Moving from your spot on the kitchen floor, you offer him a fresh-baked cookie. He seems hesitant, considering the unbelievable circumstances of his appearance. But you insist. He perches on your lone barstool as you wait for the authorities to arrive to collect another bad guy.

Warm cookies and laughs shared easily between you. And despite how it happened, it's marked down as one of your best Christmas Eves to date.

+ 01. Cranberry Street Apartments, Brooklyn Heights - December 31

There's a nervous rap of knuckles against your front door. Pulling yourself from the kitchen, you hesitantly open the door - expecting another person from Stark's insurance team to tie up the loose ends of your claim. But instead, you're met with sweet blue eyes and a small smile.

Opening the door all the way, you lean against the frame as Bucky holds out a single white rose.

"Just wanted to say sorry, again," he laments as you take the flower, holding it close to your chest.

You let a laugh slip from your lips, "Like I told you the other night, not your fault. Though I am concerned about your habit of coming in through windows."

He laughs as you raise your brows with a bright gleam.

"To be fair, I did use your door this time."

You give a nod, feeling the flutter of excitement in your belly. "You did. Very commendable. Should make a habit of it."

Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he rocks back on the balls of his feet. And you become acutely aware that you're still holding this conversation in the open hallway of your apartment building.

"Yeah?" He quips after a moment, "Does that apply to all doors or… or just yours?"

There's a pleasant thrum in your head as your heart sings sweetly in your chest. Holding out a hand, warm fingers tentatively take yours as you bring him inside your apartment. The promise of something new and exhilarating to bring in the new year as he squeezes your hand for the first time.

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[keepacleanwrist]

Opposites. Rafael Barba

Rafael Barba Short Story. 

Part One.

Summery: Meeting one December day by accident. Charlotte and Rafael fell in love without meaning too. A year and a half goes by and their relationship seems to be rocky. Will they be able to pull through and work it out? Or will they go their separate ways?

Warning: Angst. Swearing. Fluff. Also Scene Taken From Rent the Musical. (Obviously changed to fit my story.)

Proof Read? Sorry we no do that here.

Word Count: 1,430

no smut in this part sorry

Dictionary: Lo siento mucho- I am so sorry. Mi amor- My love Por favor- Please.

 To say they were complete opposites was a big understatement. Where Rafael preferred to over work himself in multiple cases and every now and then go to a theater to see a show. Charlotte Parks was all for fun. Going out, movies and to the bars. Laughing with friends and just being happy with life. She preferred to live her life and not let it pass her by.

Now, you’re probably sitting there wondering. How did these two meet? Right?

It all started one week before Christmas.... 

Charlotte was busying herself as she was doing her last-minute gift shopping. Honestly, what was wrong with her? Not even Lottie knew. All the poor blonde girl knew was that she was rushing around. Drinking her third cup of coffee, Charlotte was turning a corner when she crashed into something. Sending the girl flying backwards. Her bags falling from her hands and the hot coffee, now covering part of the sidewalk and her shirt and jacket.

“Fuck!” she cursed, the coffee had been hot, and the crash made her cup be squished and went flying. Getting on her neck, unfortunately, she wasn’t wearing gloves either. so, Charlotte was in pain. 

“Lo siento mucho!” A voice above her said, grabbing her attention. “I am so sorry.” he said again and started to pick up her bags. His briefcase on the ground. Another cup of coffee a little closer to the curb. 

As if she had been put in a haze. Charlotte quickly snapped out of it. “Yeah... well, I’m sorry as well. Should probably slow down when making right turns.” she joked, finally picking herself up off the ground with a groan. 

Rubbing her backside, Charlotte thanked him for handing back her gifts. Thankfully all were already wrapped and there was nothing fragile. 

“Rafael Barba.” the man held his hand out after grabbing the case that was by his feet.

Grinning, Charlotte held her own hand out. “Charlotte Parks. Lovely to meet you Rafael Barba.” she nodded as they shook hands. “Wanna get some coffee? Seeing as I’m wearing what we had been drinking?” she laughed. 

Little did the two of them know, that after getting coffee together after running into each other... -quite literally mind you. -

Now a year and a half later, Charlotte was dressed to the tens in one of her best dresses. Lottie was happy. It was a long, lace soft pink dress. The dressed dragged a little on the floor, but it made Charlotte feel beautiful. 

It was perfect to play happy couple while in front of Rafael’s bosses. Not that Charlotte even wanted to go. Lately the two of them haven’t been able to agree on anything. Fighting left and right. Ignoring each other and sleeping separately.

If it hadn’t been for the fact that she had already agreed to go that night. She would have canceled. Not that she would do that to Rafael. Despite how mad they were at one other for stupid things. Charlotte knew deep in her heart; she loved that man with all she had. Even if he was a little jealous and not all that fun.

Not that she ever let it get to her. She knew her feelings for her Cuban lover. It wasn’t cause of his late hours and moody behavior that she was going to break up with him. What others see and what Lottie sees. It two different men. The Rafael Barba, Assistant District Attorney for Manhattan, mainly works SVU cases. He was a cold; hard ass determined to win and give his victims some peace after the suffering they go through. Then there was her Rafi. The man who would send her random texts during the day when he had the time. Calling her late night on the phone so she’s the last voice he hears. Cooking breakfast for her after spending the night together. The flowers and small gifts, letting her know he needs her after a specific hard case. That was the man she fell in love with. Not that people understood that.

Being thirty and Rafael almost 41. People gave them looks. It didn’t help that Charlotte looked younger than she was. They just never cared. They ignored the comments.

“Tonight, is gonna be a good night...” Charlotte told herself before going to answer her door.

Rafael was on the other side smiling. “Mi amor…” he said softly. Wrapping his arms around her. The two hugged and shared a soft kiss. “I’ve missed you. I’m sorry…” but he was silenced when Charlotte pressed their lips together once again.

“Don’t apologize. It’s fine. Honestly Rafi, you have a stressful job. I DO understand.” She said quietly and leaned their foreheads against one another.

Once in the car, riding to where the event was taking place that night. Charlotte found herself with a constant blush upon her cheeks. Taking in every compliment Rafael threw her way. The two held each other and kissed softly. Just as they were pulling up, Charlotte was sure to fix her makeup and allowed Rafael to help her out. It was some big gala for the Attorneys, Judges and such of New York. It was a big turn-out.

Inside, Charlotte being careful with her dress with each step. Even lifting it a little so she could walk without tripping. They managed to chat with a few people Rafael knew. Some even Charlotte knew from previous dinners like this. Though none before was ever so formal.

By the time the dinner part was over. Charlotte nodded to Rafael who excused himself to go talk with a judge. She wanted to finish her dessert still. So, when some guy came and sat next to her. Charlotte tried to be polite. Not that she was even paying him much attention. Just giving small “Hums” and “Ahs” she finished the cake and drank the rest of her wine. Standing up, the male doing the same. Charlotte took a step back when he stepped forward. The strong smell of vodka on his breath was something really unsettling.

Charlotte wasn’t even able to say anything before she was being dragged away. Turning her head to see Rafael with a scowl on his face. The girl wondered what happened to their night that had been going so well.

“What the hell are you doing? Half of these people here are my colleagues! Please don’t do this tonight!” he hissed in her ear. Making Charlotte wonder what it is he thought he had seen between vodka breath and her.

“Okay, you know what… Mr. Harvard Graduate! I can’t take much more of this! This obsessive, controlling, envious paranoia!” she snapped, finally having enough. Not even realize that the SVU squad was around. Or that the music had stopped. “That’s it! I’ve had it!”

“Lottie…”

“NO! Ever since New Year's, I haven't said a word about it. We do what you want to do Jesus! I didn't pierce my nipples because it grossed you out! I didn't stay and dance at my friend’s engagement party because YOU wanted to go home!” She snapped at her boyfriend.

“Por Favor... you were letting some guy flirt with you there!” he said, not grasping on the fact that others around could hear their argument.

“Is that what this is about!? Rafael! There will ALWAYS be some guy flirting with me! Gimme a break!” she laughed at how stupid his excuse was. “Have I EVER given you ANY reason to not trust me? To not believe that I ONLY. LOVE. YOU!” she jabbed her finger into his chest with her last three words.

“Every single day, when I walk down the street to and from work. You know what I hear? ‘Baby so sweet!’ it’s not like that’s something I can help!” she shook her head and took a step away from the man. “You’re gonna have to choose. Take me baby or leave me. Cause I’m done feeling like it’s MY fault that guys flirt with me. I don’t approach them.” Charlotte turned around and went back to the table for her small clutch. Grabbing it, she rushed out of the room.

Ignoring all the eyes on her. She finally made it outside and waved down a cab. Inside, she ignored the calls from Olivia and Amanda. She missed seeing Rafael rush outside. The only thing Charlotte saw was her own heartache at that moment.

What was supposed to be such a good night, a night full of happiness. Turned out to be one of the worst nights of her life.

[madpanda75]

“Escape Room Escapades” Part Two

Part Two of my story where Rafael and the reader are locked in an escape room, with the prompts: "That’s probably the fastest I’ve ever done that” and “Isn’t this considered public indecency? We could get arrested!” from this lovely smut-filled list. 

You can read Part One on my Masterlist. I was gonna make this the conclusion but who knows, there may be a third part...ya’ never know ❤️

Warning: NSFW (I also call Rafael a “butt nugget” because I have the sense of humor of a 12 year old boy 😂)

A gust of wind rushed past your bare legs as you walked down the street. You clutched your skirt, making sure you didn’t flash any poor unsuspecting passerby. Having been too preoccupied with Rafael’s cases and your own, you had forgotten to do the laundry. The only pair of clean clothes you had was a brown suede skirt and a cream colored sweater. Going commando to a team building event was not ideal, but you could suffer through a couple of hours. You had been to an Escape Room before. The plan was to get the whole charade over with as quickly as possible and make it back home in time for some birthday champagne and a Netflix marathon on your couch.

You turned the corner and saw Rafael outside the building. He was dressed in a blue-grey cashmere sweater and jeans that did a stellar job accentuating his assets. Good Lord, the man looked amazing even in casual clothes. You walked up to where he was standing, silently cursing him for being so damn cute. “Rafael?”

Rafael turned towards you. Your heart skipped a beat. Up close you could see how the color of his sweater brought out the green in his eyes, some stubble on his face already beginning to grow after one day of not shaving. You shook off your impure thoughts and glanced down at your phone to check the time. “Where’s everyone else?”

“Patel couldn’t come. He had to take his dog to the vet and Walters is sick with dengue flu.” Rafael rolled his eyes at that last part. You would think a lawyer could come up with a better excuse.

“So it’s just us then,” you said.

“It would appear so.”

“Great,” you grumbled, reminding yourself to have a little chat with Patel and Walters on Monday morning. Let’s see them try and ask you for advice on litigation techniques now. “Come on. Let’s get this over with so we can go on with our lives.”

Once inside, a young employee whose name tag read “Lucy” signed you both in. Rafael stood next to you while you filled out the registration form, studying your profile—the gentle slope of your nose, your cherry red pout. He could feel your body radiating heat. You were exquisite. How was he supposed to concentrate with you in the room. His racing mind suddenly came to a screeching halt when you glanced up and caught him staring.

“What?” You asked, furrowing your brows at him.

“Nothing. I just...uh...noticed it was your birthday today.” Rafael pointed to the form.

“Yep and I’m stuck here with you,” you sighed. “Lucky me.”

Once you finished, Lucy led you down a hall with several doors, stopping at one called, The Hydeout Game. “Here’s the story,” she replied in a dramatic British accent. “The good Dr. Jekyll has been acting strangely for weeks and gone missing!” She gasped. “A crazy fellow has been causing chaos in town so you’ve been hired to investigate. Can you find out what happened to Dr. Jekyll before it’s too late.” She rubbed her hands together and manically began to laugh.

You and Rafael looked at each other and then at her, completely unfazed.

“Tough crowd,” Lucy mumbled, losing the British accent. “Ok, here’s the deal. You have 75 minutes to figure out how to get out of the room. There’s a walkie talkie in there in case you need help.”

“75 minutes. I thought this was only supposed to be an hour,” you said.

“Your boss specifically requested that we give each group an extra 15 minutes to ensure you have enough time to figure out how to escape,” Lucy replied.

Rafael scoffed. “Well it’s nice to know Jack McCoy has confidence in our ability.”

Lucy unlocked the door and made a sweeping grand gesture with her arm for you to enter the room. The room was set up to reflect Victorian times, elegant with luxe blood red wallpaper and plush furniture. A large fireplace was on your right and to the left was a sitting area with bookshelves and a secretary desk. In the middle of the room a table was set up to look like a laboratory with various beakers, pipettes, and paper strewn around.  “Good luck!” She waved and slammed the door shut.

*****

It only took fifteen minutes of being locked in a room with Rafael for you both to begin bickering. You managed to find Dr. Jekyll’s journal, a large notebook with a cryptic message scrawled on the page. Obviously it was a code of some sort. The problem was you and Rafael couldn’t decide which code it was.

��It’s clearly morse code,” Rafael argued. “Look at the length of the message. It fits into the morse code alphabet.”

“That would be too easy, Barba,” you retorted. “It’s Alberti’s disk. The message is written out of order. You can encipher it one letter at a time.”

Rafael shook his head. “This isn’t rocket science. It’s a locked room in the middle of Manhattan where kids go to celebrate their birthdays. Trust me, it’s morse code.”

You stood there with your arms crossed, both of you going back and forth like a tennis match.

“No, it isn’t”

“Yes, it is.”

“No, you’re wrong.”

“No you’re wrong.”

“No, I’m the one who’s right! You’re just being...a...a...a butt nugget!” You exclaimed. There were several other choice words you had for Rafael yet butt nugget was the first thing that popped into your head.

“Wow. Butt nugget. Really?” Rafael laughed. “If this is how you argue in court, maybe you should have taken more plea deals with my cases.”

Red flashed before your eyes. You were seething. “That’s it! I’ve had it!” You boomed, stomping over to the door and pulling on the knob. When it didn’t budge you pounded on the frame, demanding to be let out.

Rafael’s eyes widened and went over to lead you away from the door. “What are you doing? Just calm down!”

“Calm down?! CALM DOWN?!” You screeched, practically in hysterics by that point. “I can’t calm down because I’m stuck in a room with YOU! What is wrong with you?! For months I’ve been bending over backwards, working like a dog to help you and for what?! So you can treat me like dirt and criticize every single thing I do.” You ranted and raved, moving closer and closer towards Rafael. “Whatever happened to a thank you! But no, nothing! Maybe if you removed that torts book you have wedged up your ass, you would realize that I was just trying to help you! And to think I was once attracted to you! Major mistake on my part.” You laughed like a mad woman before getting right in his face. “Now you listen to me. We’re going to figure out this puzzle, get out of this room and we’re going to do it MY way and if you don’t like it that’s too damn bad.” By this point you were practically nose to nose with him, jabbing him in the chest with your index finger, out of breath from your maniacal tirade. Of course it was hard to focus on staying angry when the smell of his cologne left you weak in the knees.

Rafael didn’t speak a word. He glared at you—his nostrils flaring, his jaw set. You felt a sudden shift in the room, your hateful stares transforming from fury to lust. The temperature began to rise and a flush crept up your face. It felt like you were about to combust. Beads of sweat dotted Rafael’s forehead, his heart thumping wildly in his chest. He let out a shaky breath, lowering his gaze to your mouth. Before you could even react, he grabbed you by the waist and kissed you hard. Your bodies sighed in relief, finally releasing months of pent up sexual frustration.

The kiss was everything you had fantasized it would be and more. So much more. It was explosive and all-consuming. Rafael tasted like coffee mixed with mint and a hint of spice. His strong lips moving fervently against yours, sending a tingle straight to your core.

He pushed you back against the old fashioned secretary desk, a drawer popping open to reveal another clue. You gasped in surprise, allowing him to slide his tongue into your mouth. One hand found its way to your hair, threading his fingers through your silken locks while the other cupped your face. Rafael was shaking slightly, trying to restrain himself and not paw at your flesh. You grabbed his hand and moved it to your breast, granting him permission to explore your body.

He groaned, gently squeezing your breast, feeling your nipple strain against your thin sweater. His lips must have been laced with an aphrodisiac. Everything around you become fuzzy except for Rafael. The tension in the room began to dissipate. The hunger you had for each other reached its peak. Both of you surrendered to the moment, giving into your deepest desires.

Your pussy throbbed with need, your arousal beginning to coat your inner thighs. In an answer to your prayers, Rafael wedged his leg between yours, spreading you open for him. His eyebrows raised in surprise when he reached down to lift your skirt only to discover that you weren’t wearing any panties. “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?” He purred against your mouth.

“Don’t ever underestimate me, Barba,” you giggled into a moan, rocking back and forth on his thick thigh, the rough denim providing the most delicious friction against your clit.

Rafael braced his leg against the desk and grabbed your hips, encouraging you to grind down harder against him. He could feel a wet spot beginning to form on his thigh. His kisses moved across your cheek, finding purchase on the sensitive spot below your ear. He inhaled deeply. You smelled like cinnamon and vanilla, alluring, warm, and good enough to eat. Your pulse quickened, he could feel your heartbeat beneath his lips as he painted your skin with his tongue.

You shuddered and reached for his belt buckle. “Fuck me,” you said in a breathless whisper.

The sound of clinking metal brought him back to reality. He stepped away from you, his chest heaving from exertion. “Wait. Isn’t this considered public indecency? We could get arrested.”

You nodded your head, completely out of breath. “True. It is a Class B Misdemeanor, punishable by up to 3 years in jail or probation and a fine of up to $500. Not to mention having a permanent criminal record.” You glanced down to see Rafael’s erection straining against his jeans. A sinful smirk slowly spread across your face. Sitting down on the desk, you opened your legs even more, teasing him with your glistening swollen sex. “So do you think we should stop?”

Rafael licked his lips, his eyes darkened as he drank you in. “No fucking way,” he growled.

In one long stride, he was on you, planting a searing kiss to your lips while he dragged his fingers against your slit.

You reached down and whipped off his belt before unzipping his jeans. “I’m on the pill and I’m clean,” you mumbled between kisses.

“So am I,” he replied, pushing his pants and underwear down in one swift movement.

Grabbing his cock, he brought it up to your sheath only to stop for a moment. He locked eyes with you, searching your face for any sign of uncertainty. You smiled and nodded your head, wanting this just as much as he did.

Rafael slowly guided himself into your sheath. You mewled in response, grabbing a fistful of his sweater. “Fuck,” you whimpered. “I knew there had to be a reason why you were so cocky.”

Rafael let out a breathless laugh, stopping halfway to let you adjust to his size. As your body relaxed, he pushed himself further until he was buried deep inside your molten hot core. Inch by inch, he slowly pulled out, leaving the head of his cock inside you before pressing back in. Your head fell back, a loud drawn out moan leaving your lips.

Rafael shushed you and grabbed your chin to meet his gaze, dragging his thumb across your bottom lip. “We have to keep it down.”

You nodded and gently bit down on the pad of his thumb before taking it in your mouth, moaning around the digit as he began to move against you. Rafael found his rhythm, his ass cheeks clenching with every hard thrust. The wet sounds of your coupling spurred him on and he quickened his pace.

You released his thumb and wrapped your arms around his neck, burying your head in the crook of his neck. “Barba,” you gasped.

“Call me, Rafael,” he replied in a strained voice.

You obliged, softly chanting his name. Your hot breath tickling his ear. “Oh, Rafael,” you softly moaned, biting down on his earlobe.

Rafael groaned. There were so many nights he would spend stroking himself, imagining you with your legs wrapped around him, whispering his name. Even now he wasn’t fully convinced that this wasn’t a dream and he would wake up alone in his bed, in need a cold shower.

He took hold of your leg and lifted it until your knee was pressed up against your chest, allowing him to penetrate you even deeper. You drew in a sharp intake of breath causing Rafael to freeze and instantly pull back. “Did I hurt you?”

“No. It feels so good,” you whined and wrapped your other leg around his waist, using it as leverage to arch your hips up. Letting go of his restraint, he pounded into you, grunting with his efforts, pushing you towards your release while trying to hold off his own. The desk banging into the wall with every movement.

You choked back a sob, the root of his cock rubbing against your clit. A warmth spread throughout your body, settling all the way down to your toes curling within your boots. One more thrust sent you over the edge. Rafael tugged you into a bruising kiss, silencing your cries as wave after wave of pleasure rippled through you. You trembled, your nails biting into Rafael’s neck as you clenched hard against him. He groaned into your mouth, impaling you one final time before his cock swelled inside your core, filling you with his release.

Aftershocks surged through your body, your walls still fluttering against Rafael’s cock. He shivered and gently lowered your leg. For a split second, you forgot where you were, losing yourself in his passionate embrace until Lucy’s voice came over the walkie talkie. “Hey guys!”

You pushed Rafael away and grabbed the walkie talkie. “We didn’t do anything!?!” You said in a panic.

“Well of course you didn’t, you’re still locked in the room. Consider this your 30 minute warning.”

“Thanks.” You hopped off the desk and adjusted your skirt. “How are we going to get out of here,” you mumbled to yourself while looking around for clues. Your mind switched gears from having impulsive angry hot sex with a man you were supposed to hate over trying to figure out how to win the game, which was no easy feat with Rafael’s cum leaking out of you.  

“This is ridiculous.” Rafael zipped up his pants and helped you search the room. He was sweating through his sweater from your coital workout. “We’re two of Manhattan’s top ADAs. It shouldn’t be this complicated.”

“Try to think outside the box and look in places you normally wouldn’t.” You bent down and inspected the faux fireplace.

Rafael stopped, noticing how your skirt rode up, following the line of your long legs all the way up to your ass. He tugged on his collar and cleared his throat, shifting his gaze over to the table and picking up a prop beaker. “So...ummm...do you always go commando.”

You turned towards him, blushing profusely. “Laundry day,” you explained, clenching your thighs together. Narrowing your eyes, you looked right past Rafael and noticed the open drawer on the secretary desk. The drawer you had bumped open while otherwise occupied. You brushed past him, making a beeline to the desk drawer and pulled out a decoder ring. Your eyes shifted to Jekyll’s journal on the side table that you and Rafael had been squabbling over earlier. “I’ve got it,” you announced.

It was all beginning to make sense. The numbers on the page spelled out another clue. Once you figured that out, it was all downhill from there. You glanced over at Rafael and smiled. “Alright counselor, are you ready to get out of here.”

*****

You and Rafael put your minds together and were able to find the key and unlock the room with 10 minutes to spare. The minute the door opened, you both thanked Lucy and fled, terrified she would suspect something other than puzzle solving happened in that room.

It was dusk by the time you walked outside. The cool crisp air whipped at your face while leaves danced around your feet. A rich and earthy scent hung in the air, it was warm, smoky, and inviting. Even the city that never sleeps couldn’t escape the impending arrival of autumn.  

You stood on the sidewalk next to Rafael, rocking back on your heels, avoiding eye contact at all cost. Apart from the honking cars and chatter of people brushing past, there was nothing but awkward silence between you both. The reality of what just happened less than an hour ago began to sink in. Neither of you dared to make the first move, waiting to see if the other person would speak first.

In the end, it was you that eventually caved. “That’s probably the fastest I’ve ever done that,” you blurted out. “Unlocking the room, not the sex. Although I don’t normally rush into sex either and definitely not with a coworker. I mean not that the sex wasn’t good cause in the words of Tony the Tiger, it was grrrrrreat! I mean, I haven’t orgasmed that hard in years and— Oh my God, I can’t believe I just said that.” You turned beet red and covered your face with your hands. Rafael’s eyebrows shot up into his forehead, the corners of his mouth twitching into a smile. While you were humiliated by your bout of verbal diarrhea, he thought it was absolutely adorable. “And on that note, I’m leaving. Have a good night and I’ll see you on Monday.” You gave him a half-ass wave and scurried away as fast as humanly possible.

It took Rafael a second to realize you were gone you had left so quickly. He was surprised that you hadn’t left a dust cloud in your wake like in the cartoons. “Y/N, wait up,” he called, practically jogging down the street to catch up with you. “Jesus, you’re fast,” he huffed.

You stopped in your tracks, shocked that Rafael was chasing you down and not laughing at your expense back where you had left him. “What is it, Rafael?”

“Well, I was wondering if you had any plans for your birthday?”

“Probably vegging out on my couch, binging “Murder She Wrote” while drinking champagne straight from the bottle,” you replied with a shrug.

Rafael nodded and scratched the bridge of his nose, his heart hammering in his chest at what he was about to say. “That’s too bad because I was wondering if you’d like to celebrate it with me.”

Your eyes widened in surprise. “Really!?”

Rafael chuckled. “Yeah, really. There’s a great French restaurant not too far from here. Unless you’d rather spend the evening with Angela Lansbury.”

“I think Angela can survive without me for one night.” You smiled and took a step closer to Rafael, reaching out for his hand.

He intertwined his fingers with yours, glancing down at your joined hands before looking up to meet your gaze. With his free hand, he reached up and gently tucked a strand of hair behind your ear before trailing down to your cheek, caressing the soft skin with his thumb. You closed your eyes and tilted your head, your mouth brushing up against his palm.

Rafael’s breath hitched, pulling you close enough towards him to press a soft kiss to your lips. This kiss was different than before. It was shy and hesitant, almost innocent. Almost. The kiss quickly began to unfurl into something more, something dark and desperate.

Somewhere off in the distance, you could’ve sworn you heard someone say, “Get a room.” As ironic as that was, you couldn’t care less and neither did Rafael. You melted under his touch, his tongue dueling with yours as your breaths mingled. You clutched fistfuls of Rafael’s sweater for fear your legs would give out.

Pulling back just a hair, you looked into Rafael’s big green eyes, now consumed by lust. “Why don’t we get the food to go?” You suggested with a devious smirk on your face.

*****

You were awoken the next morning by an expletive followed by the sound of a pan clanging against your counter. The rich smell of chocolate filled your nostrils.

Untangling yourself from the bedsheets, you sat upright and stretched your arms over your head, naked as a jaybird, your bedhead wild and crazy. It had been months since you had slept so soundly. You felt rested and invigorated.

You let out a contented sigh and flopped back in bed, melting into the mattress. Your fingers skimmed across your body, trailing down to the dull ache between your legs. Rafael’s touch still lingered on your skin, the smell of sex mixed with his cologne covered you like a blanket.

Last night, it was more than just layers of clothing that were shed. Words were exchanged. Months worth of suppressed emotions bubbled to the surface. You were finally able to look past the insecurities, the animosity, and truly see the other person.

Turns out you and Rafael had more in common than you thought. It wasn’t easy for either of you to open up but laying in bed, sweaty and satiated, your limbs entwined, you both felt safe, finding comfort in each other’s arms.

More clattering coming from the kitchen made you curious to see exactly what Rafael was up to. The walls of your apartment were paper-thin. You could hear him cursing and rifling through your drawers. Getting up out of bed, you shivered and wrapped your arms around yourself before spying Rafael’s cashmere sweater on the floor. You tugged it on, the hem barely concealing your bottom and padded down the hall, following the path of clothes that littered the floor.

You walked into the kitchen and spied Rafael standing in front of the oven, wearing nothing but your apron. His back may have been to you but you knew the front of the apron read, “Hot and Spicy….and the food is pretty good too!” It was an appropriate choice of outfit for him in that moment.

Leaning against the doorframe, you took advantage of the view before you, drinking in his bare feet, his muscular calves, all the way up to his thick thighs and finally settling on his firm yet oh so pinchable ass. His ass was the reason why they invented the peach emoji in the first place. You could bounce a nickel off it.  

Sensing that he was being watched, Rafael turned around. “Good morning,” he said with a shy smile, his ungelled hair sticking out in every direction. He had a dark smear of something that appeared to be chocolate batter on his cheek. There was a boyish charm to him, a far contrast to the tailored suits and sharp-tongued snarky ADA you had grown accustomed to. It was a side of Rafael you had never seen before.

“Morning.” You took a step closer and grabbed a kitchen towel, cleaning the chocolate smudge off his face. “Be careful with the oven. That’s an unfortunate kitchen accident in the making,” you teased and playfully tugged his apron. “Oh...yeah.” Rafael blushed and rubbed the back of his neck, stepping aside to reveal an unfrosted chocolate cake sitting on a plate. “I was trying to find your coffee but I saw the cake mix and since we never got to dessert last night I thought I would bake you a breakfast birthday cake.” You gazed down at the dessert, feeling a lump form in your throat. Noone had ever made you a cake for your birthday before, not even your parents. In fact, you had forgotten you even had the cake mix in your cupboard. The simple gesture touched your heart. You turned around and smiled at him.  “I appreciate the sentiment, although  I think I got my dessert last night.” You pushed back a lock of hair that had flopped forward on his forehead, planting a kiss on the spot then moving lower to kiss the tip of his nose, and finally his lips. “Thank you,” you whispered. “You’re welcome.” He wrapped his arms around your waist and kissed you deeply, humming in appreciation as his hands moved lower towards your backside. “Can I help frost?” You purred against his lips.

“If you like.”

You grabbed the cake and placed it on the counter next to the open can of chocolate frosting that Rafael had set out earlier. Grabbing a knife from the drawer, you started to coat the cake in chocolate frosting. “I didn’t know you were such a baker.” Rafael stood behind you, inhaling the sweet warm scent of your shampoo. “I know my way around the kitchen, among other places.” He brushed your hair to the side and dropped open-mouth kisses to your neck and shoulders. “So I’ve noticed.” You dipped your finger in the chocolate frosting and brought it up to Rafael’s lips. He sucked greedily on your index finger, his eyes boring into yours.

Your breath hitched. You resumed frosting your cake which was becoming increasingly difficult to do with Rafael nuzzling your neck while he ran his hands up and down your arms. You bit back a whimper and grinded back against him, feeling his growing erection press against your ass. “Why do I feel like we’re about to reenact the pottery scene from Ghost.”

He chuckled and gently nibbled on your earlobe.The scruff on his cheeks tickled your skin. “Do you want me to hum Unchained Melody.”

You giggled and tried to wiggle away only to have him tighten his hold on your waist. “Actually I have a better idea. Why don’t we eat this cake in the bedroom.” You grabbed the cake and glanced back at Rafael, motioning to the fridge. “Don’t forget to bring the whipped cream too,” you said with a wink.

Traipsing back to the bedroom, with Rafael following, you made sure to put a little more swing in your hips, fully aware that if you turned around, you’d catch him staring at your ass. There were still a lot of unknowns for you and Rafael and while you weren’t sure what the future held, you did know one thing—this was definitely the best birthday ever!

@glimmerglittergirl​ @southern-magnolia​ @sweetcannolicarisi​ @delia26​ @obfuscateyummy​ @sass-and-suspenders​ @eclecticminded​ @thatesqcrush​ @katmstanton​ @amirightcounsellor​ @beltzboys2015-blog​ @letty-o​ @sonnysdoll​ @lyssa1385​ @sweetsummertime99​ @burningsorr0ws​ @gibbs274​ @izzythefanfreak​ @riodallas​ @babypink224221​ @livxrafa​ @esparza-army​ @obsessionprofessional​ @ottosuricato​ @melsquared79​ @dreila03​ @raulmonamour​ @tropes-and-tales​ @thecraziestcrayon​ @imjustreallynosy​

[therandomfics]

Three Days: 3

The morning of your father’s funeral couldn’t have been more stereotypical. While the days before had been sunny and clear, that morning you woke up to the sound of rain tapping against the window of your childhood bedroom. 

Sonny was already awake, having showered and dressed, and was downstairs helping keep things coordinated and controlled. You could hear his voice down the stairs through gritted teeth begging your nephews to sit still for just a moment so he could turn on the television and get them something to eat while everyone else was getting ready. 

After a long shower filled with contemplation, you dressed in a sleek black pantsuit and clasped your favorite strand of pearls around your neck. Your hair dried naturally into a frizz of curls which you pinned back but didn’t smooth - the rain wouldn’t allow for any such thing, anyway, and your father had always loved your “crazy hair” as he put it. 

Downstairs, you found Sonny eating drinking coffee and staring out of the kitchen window. Your nephews were indulging in cartoons and your brother and sister in law were in the living room fussing over what tie the nephews should wear. 

“Good morning Prince Charming,” you whispered as you brushed past Sonny, pausing only to press a kiss to the top of his head. “We have to leave in about ten minutes.” 

He grasped onto your wrist as you moved past him and pulled you back towards him, planting you in his lap. “I already made you coffee and there’s toast in the oven.” 

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you kissed him tenderly several times and then pulled away sighing. “When this is all over, can we go away?” 

“Just say where.” He squeezed you gently and nuzzled his face against your neck. 

“Anywhere but here. You know I was happy to leave here. I don’t like being back too much,” you admitted and wriggled away from him so that you could put something in your stomach before the funeral. 

You shook your head silently to yourself as you sipped your coffee and nibbled at the toast that had been waiting for you, warm in the oven. The dread was settling in - and while you knew the grief would be there for ages to follow, you held steadfast to the idea that something was going to go wrong at the funeral home. 

“We gather here today to celebrate a life of love, laughter, happiness, and dedication....” 

“He was known for his character - he could make you laugh anytime, anywhere. We could surely use something like that here with us today.” 

“I met him when I was just 10, and he was 9....” 

The stories went on for sometime as you sat in the family room, tucked under Sonny’s arm and softly sobbing each time you thought you’d gotten a grasp on your emotions for the moment. 

“The faithful departed will always be in our hearts and minds. I was thankful to meet this kind, gracious man because of his daughter, Y/N, who as you all probably know was my best friend for the longest time...” 

You sat upright and stiffened, your body entirely rigid at the familiar voice sharing a story about your father. It couldn’t be, there was no way. 

“I spent so much time with the family that I felt like I was part of it, and he never let me feel any different. Even after Y/N moved away unexpectedly, I spent so much time at their home. He truly felt like he was my father, too,” he continued. 

You could have sworn that even though you were hidden from view, he was looking directly at you. 

Rising from your seat, you grabbed your clutch and walked out - out of the family room, down the hall, and out of the funeral home. It was still raining and you hurried through puddles and raindrops to get to the safety of the smoker’s cove, finally slowing to a stop once you were under the awning. Sonny hadn’t followed you, probably stuck with one of your nephews begging to play with his phone or to wear his watch, like they loved to do anytime someone “new” was around.

“Look at you.” Puddles splashing caught your attention as you turned to find your former best friend, Connor, standing in front of you with his hands in his pockets. 

“My father would appreciate you being here,” you replied, attempting to remain casual. 

“He would have appreciated you staying here instead of running away,” he replied smugly, a smirk pulling at his lips. 

You took a step back and folded your arms. “That wasn’t gonna happen and you know it.” 

Connor let out a small laugh and stepped towards you, careful to leave enough space to seem harmless. “You overreacted. You’re good at that, y’know? Overreacting, that is. Never were too good at holding your liquor, but I guess you remember all about that, don’t you?” 

“Look,” you began, holding a hand up to silence him and figuratively stop him from moving foward again. “I’ve come to terms with what happened that night. I know it was fucked up and -” 

“Yeah it was pretty fucked up how you just left after you finally acted on your feelings. You ran away.” 

You narrowed your eyes at him and scowled. “I never acted on anything. Clearly you don’t remember what happened like I remember.” 

From behind, you heard a door slam but the rain had begun to fall harder and silenced anything beyond the seconds of noise you were able to distinguish. 

“You had a few too many drinks and we had sex. You woke up the next morning and freaked out like a child, and I never saw you again. I found out a week later you’d moved.” He rolled his eyes dismissively and reached into his suit pocket to pull out a pack of cigarettes, one of which he promptly lit. 

“Did you hear yourself? I was drunk, and when I woke up I had no recollection of the night before. Instead of owning what you did and admitting you were a disgusting predator, you told everyone I confessed my love for you and then I got cold feet. Text message after text message and DM after DM, I was being harassed by those girls you led on for so long, and I can’t tell you how many times I freaked out and got tested for STDs because of you. But you think it was consensual? You think it was okay? Did you never wonder why I left you without saying a word and moved out of the state?!” You were screaming by the time you stopped speaking, shaking and nauseous as your former best friend turned assailant stood before you with little to no remorse. 

“You’re saying I raped you?” he asked, brow arched with a hollow laugh. “You were begging me.” 

“Begging you to stop,” you interjected with a hiss. 

“And then you ran off to New York to become a whore.” 

“Fuck you!” you bellowed, launching yourself forward to strike Connor in the face repeatedly. It didn’t take him long to shove you backwards and onto the cold cement you’d been standing on only moments before. 

You landed with a thud and watched at Connor turned to walk away - but before he knew what happened, Sonny had connected his fist with Connor’s jaw in a manner that left your former best friend lying on the cement near you. 

Quickly, Sonny pulled you to your feet and brushed you off, making sure that you were okay. 

“I’m fine,” you lied, looking down at Connor who’s lip was bleeding as he tried to sit up defiantly. 

“Hey, I wouldn’t be getting up if I were you,” Sonny snapped, looking sternly at the man who was sitting on the ground. “Mass has a fifteen year statute of limitations. I’d do whatever I could not to make it worse right now.” 

“Who the fuck are you?” he demanded, glaring up at Sonny. 

“Dominick Carisi Jr, Manhattan ADA,” he replied with a roll of his eyes. Sonny pulled you closer and kept a protective hold on you. “And this is my wife, but I think you’ve met.” 

“Fuck,” Connor grumbled under his breath and let his shoulders slump in defeat. “Well go ahead, what are you gonna do? Arrest me?” 

“I’m not a Detective anymore, but I’m sure I can make some calls.” Sonny turned to you and cupped your face in his hand. “Lets get you inside, alright? I need to make some calls and the family is about to leave for the graveside. We just have to get through a few more hours and we’re free, babe, alright?” 

You nodded slowly and glanced at Connor on the ground. If you went back inside, he could leave and never be heard from again. That’s how you had wanted to live your life. But, now Sonny knew what had happened, and Sonny wasn’t going to let it rest until he was brought to justice. Torn between fear and comfort, you tucked your clutch under your arm and dashed back towards the funeral home, slipping back inside to join the family. Sonny had his hands full, but you knew that was his true calling. 

The ride back to New York was quiet. Eerily quiet. Sonny had worked with victims for years and had a particular knack when it came to helping people in times of sorrow and trouble. You wondered, though, if it was different because you were his wife. Maybe it was different because you’d buried your father and experienced an outcry in the same day. Still, there was very little you had to say and feigned sleeping for the first hour of the trip just to give yourself a break. 

“Hey doll...” Sonny whispered, placing his hand on your knee tenderly. “I’m gonna stop to fill up the car. Do you want anything?” 

You shrugged with as much sleepiness as you could fake and shuffled in your seat so that you could sit up. “I’m alright. We’ll be home in a few hours.” 

“I’m taking some time off of work,” he added casually before he got out of the car and locked you in. 

A few minutes later he returned and filled the car up with fuel, then rejoined you inside and started the engine. 

“I got you a water,” he said, handing you a bag that also contained a variety of snacks. “And stuff.” 

A whisper of a laugh left your lips and you sighed. “Are things ok?” 

“What things?” he inquired. 

“Us.” 

“Why wouldn’t they be, Y/N?” he asked, merging back onto the highway and accelerating. 

“I never wanted you to know.” You twisted your wedding ring around your finger absently and fought back the urge to cry, despite how painful it was for you. 

He nodded absently and stayed silent for a long moment, glancing in his mirrors as he tried to find the right words to say. 

“I’m sorry,” you muttered and averted your gaze out of your passenger window. 

“Please don’t say you’re sorry. Please don’t think that this changes anything between us. If you feel like you’re damaged goods or you’re broken, you’re not. And I love you, no matter what. I don’t love you any less knowing the troubles you endured and kept to yourself. In fact I love you more because you’re so strong. You turned your pain into prosperity. You let yourself be loved, and you let yourself love, too. That’s something that I think is really hard for anyone who’s been through something like you’ve been through. I’m sorry that he exists and that he did such a criminal thing to you, but I promise you I’m gonna do everything I can to make sure he rots for it. But, Y/N, I swear on everything, I’ll never stop loving you and I’ll never look at you different, and I’ll never be mad at you because you chose to keep something so private and difficult to yourself.” He glanced over at you and frowned when he saw your eyes welling with tears and spilling over. 

“I don’t deserve you,” you choked out through sobs, covering your mouth and finally allowing yourself to cry without barriers. 

Sonny signaled and pulled off onto the emergency shoulder of the highway, putting the hazards on and placing the car in park. He unbuckled his seat belt and practically climbed over the center console to envelope you into his arms, protective and loving as he had been from day one. “You do, and I deserve you. Remember what you said? We’re meant to be together.” 

“Please don’t ever leave me,” you whined, pulling at his shirt to bring yourself closer. “Please.” What he heard, and what you didn’t say were the same - please don’t see me any differently, please don’t make me find your love again, please keep me. 

“I wouldn’t have anyone but you by my side,” he promised and kissed your forehead softly. “We’ve only got a little while left and then we’re home, alright? Let’s order takeout and eat on the balcony, okay? I promise you I’m not going anywhere.” 

“Okay,” you said with a sniffling nod. “Let’s go. I can’t wait to get back to normalcy with you.” 

_______

[jbbarnesnnoble]

Goodnight and Joy Be to You All

Summary: You get into an accident and have a choice to make. 

Features: Description of injury; The Good Place spoilers; non-canon compliant MCU; non-canon compliant The Good Place; technical character death?

Pairing: Steve Rogers/Reader

Notes: I just started watching The Good Place and this happened 

Word Count: 2878 + a bonus 177

Somehow, you never expected it to go like this. It seemed almost anti-climatic. You had been in the city, away from the compound, buying a gift for Christmas, the first since the Blip. Steve had made the decision to stay, something that still surprised you. It wasn’t to say you weren’t grateful, you were. But you would be lying if you said you hadn’t expected him to take advantage of the opportunity in front of him. Bucky had cautioned you of as much. 

But it seemed now that it was all for naught. You lay on the pavement in midtown Manhattan, screams around you as you’re helpless to do anything. A cab sped through the red light and you had been directly in its path. You only felt pain. You felt like something had pierced your skin. You managed to get a glimpse of your abdomen, where a piece of metal was protruding. You felt yourself drifting, too panicked to think of anything else as a medic attended to you.

“Shit, shit we’re losing her!” was all you heard as it grew harder to stay alert. 

You woke up, but you weren’t sure where you were. You were sitting on a couch. A man with white hair and glasses popped his head out of the door, calling your name.

“Normally, I’d be explaining to you where you are, but you aren’t anywhere. You aren’t in the Good Place nor are you in the Bad Place or the Medium Place. You, my friend, are in limbo,” Michael said. The blonde woman beside him gave him a look and you got the feeling he was withholding some information. 

“Limbo?” you asked. The last thing you remembered was getting ready to cross the street in midtown after running some errands. You had found the perfect present for Steve and the next thing you knew you had woken up here. You had to be in some weird dream. 

“Very rare. See, normally in your universe you go somewhere else and the Soulworld exists in...anyway that may be too complicated for our purposes here. All afterlifes across dimensions and universes are connected in someway. You happened to end up here. Limbo. You’re not alive, but you aren’t dead. You have a decision to make. And as part of a...court agreement...we’ve been assigned to help you make your decision,” he said.

“When you say ‘we’ who exactly do you mean?” you asked. 

“Hi. Eleanor Shellstrop. Nice to meet you Miss Renegade ma’am. Big fan of your work. Always wanted to be like you Avengers...well, where I’m from you’re in a movie and your actress is kind of a bench, honestly I probably would have gotten along with her. Anyway, my friends Chidi, Tahani, Jason and I are going to help you decide. Janet has created a place for us to work through this,” the blonde woman said. If you weren’t so confused and concerned, you probably would have been amused. 

“Is my actress at least attractive? Sam and I kind of have a bet on who would play us if an alternate universe existed where our lives were action movies,” you said. You might as well have fun with this. Whatever this was. Eleanor looked at you and grinned.

“Dude, she was slamming,” Eleanor said. She led you out of the room and out to the outside. It was a grassy area. It reminded you of the lake outside of Tony’s cabin. You screamed when someone appeared beside you. 

“Janet, I thought we talked about this whole just appearing thing,” Eleanor said. She introduced you to the three others who would be helping you and explained who Janet was. 

“She reminds me of FRIDAY,” you said.

“Is Friday hot? I bet she’s hot,” Jason said. Eleanor smacked his arm. You blinked as you looked at him. He seemed to be a few crayons short of a full pack. 

“Jason, not the time,” she said. You had to laugh at it. Your heart ached a little bit. The dynamic at play reminded you a bit of home, of your friends, your family. 

“Friday is an AI designed by Tony Stark,” you said.

“Dude...you know Tony Stark? How did Infinity War go? I kinda died before it came out. Black Widow is so sexy,” Jason said. You just looked at him and then at his friends.

“Really?” you asked, crossing your arms. You tried to remind yourself that to him, your life was fiction. It didn’t help in the slightest. You were an Avenger and you could think of multiple ways to get him to shut up. Was murder frowned upon in limbo? Could you murder someone while you were in limbo? You had so many questions. Eleanor and Chidi shared a look before Eleanor spoke. 

“He’s...from Florida,” Eleanor said. You nodded in understanding. That explained a lot about the man. While you were still annoyed with the man, you couldn’t fault him for being from Florida. Something about that state just brought out the weird in people. You, Tony, and Bruce had once hypothesized that if it wasn’t the water, then maybe there was some lost alien tech buried somewhere in the Everglades or something. There was no way the state was just like that, you thought. 

“Was this Tony Stark wealthy? I knew the man who played him in the movies! Robert always did throw the best parties. And oh, that Chris Evans, I went on a date with him once, but, I was too much woman for him,” Tahani said. 

“Right. So. Michael mentioned something about me making a decision. Can’t I just decide and that’s it?” you asked. Chidi sighed. You looked at him curiously as he gestured for you to sit on a bench that appeared out of nowhere.

“Unfortunately, it isn’t that simple. The rules of limbo demand you weigh your options before making your decision. Really evaluate your life. We can look to philosophy to help with this decision,” he said. 

“Does anyone else find it funny that he’s the one telling her to make a decision? No? Just me?” Tahani asked. 

“Not the time,” Eleanor said. Chidi requested a chalkboard from Janet and it appeared. He divided it into two sides. Reasons to return to your body and reasons to move on. He handed you the chalk and you stood, walking up to the board. You thought for a moment. Under the ‘reasons to return’ side you put family.

“Okay, why family?” Tahani asked.

“It’s not my blood family. We’ve...we’ve already lost a lot this year. The last five years. The Snap, the Blip, fighting Thanos a second time, losing Tony, losing Natasha. I don’t know if they can lose me too,” you said. 

“Someone certainly thinks highly of themselves,” she said. You glared at her.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked.

“Wait...Iron Man and Black Widow die? Man! I want my money back!” Jason said with a groan. Everyone turned their heads to look at him. You were three seconds away from smacking him upside the head yourself. You took a breath, reminding yourself that where he was from, you and the rest of the team were simply fictional characters.  

“It wasn’t an insult if that’s what you’re thinking. I simply mean that you are so confident in your relationships,” she said. 

“Right,” you said. You added more reasons to the board, avoiding putting anything on the side for reasons not to return. It didn’t take long for them to call you out on it.

“There must be some reason you wouldn’t want to go back,” Eleanor said. 

“No, nope. I want to go back,” you said. 

“You’re scared of something,” she said. 

“Things are only just getting back to normal. Half the universe was wiped out for five years. We lost good people to bring them back,” you said quietly. 

“And you helped do that,” she said. You nodded.

“I think we need to bring in some help,” Chidi said. You looked at him, about to ask him what he meant when you saw two people you thought you’d never see again walk out of the cabin. You stumbled backwards in disbelief. Walking down the stairs of the cabin were Tony and Natasha. 

“Holy fork...fork...what the fork,” you said. You were definitely not saying fork. 

“Oh, right. You can’t curse here because technically limbo exists as part of the Good Place. And there’s no cursing in the Good Place. You get used to it,” Eleanor said. You walked toward them. You felt tears stinging your eyes.

“Is...is this real? Or is this a creation of this dimension?” you asked, your voice breaking. Tony didn’t respond. He just wrapped you in a hug. You sobbed as you wrapped your arms around him. He felt real. You felt Natasha’s hand on your back, rubbing soothing circles.

“They pulled us from our own afterlife for this, kiddo,” Tony said as you pulled away. You looked over at the group.

“I swear, if this is a forking joke, I will forking kill you all. I don’t care how dead you already are,” you said to them. 

“Forking? Just say forking...what the fork?” Tony asked. Natasha seemed amused by it. 

“We’re technically in the Good Place or something? I don’t know. I wasn’t really listening when Eleanor explained it to me. Considering this isn’t our universe’s version of the afterlife,” you said. 

“You’re not dead yet. You’re in limbo. And you need to decide,” Natasha said. 

“But I did decide. I want to go back,” you said. She sighed.

“Your decision has to consider both sides. The universal fabric won’t accept it until it’s satisfied that you really thought it through,” Natasha said. 

“How do you know that?” you asked.

“When they came to bring us here, they explained it to us. So, let’s talk. What reasons would you have for not returning to the Earth?” she asked. 

“There aren’t any,” you said. She raised an eyebrow.

“Go on vacation recently?” she asked. 

“Nat, we don’t do vacations. And I wouldn’t consider death a vacation. It’s kinda permanent. Except y’know when Thanos snaps half the universe out of existence and we bring them back. Oh, except for you,” you said. She put her hands up.

“I did what I had to. We all knew there were risks to our mission. You’re deflecting,” she said.

“If I chose to stay here. Would I see you and Tony? Would we ever see the others again?” you asked. She touched your face, a comforting gesture.

“Our universes’ version of this is different. We would be able to see you whenever you wanted, whenever we wanted. We would see them again,” she said. You nodded.

“Tasha...do you regret it?” you asked. She shook her head, taking your hand in hers as the two of you sat on the bench. 

“No. I could never regret that decision. Not if it means we brought everyone home and from what I heard, we did. We won. We can all rest now,” she said. You closed your eyes as you took a breath. 

“What about you Tony?” you asked, looking up at him where he stood. He gave you a sad smile.

“Do I regret that I won’t see Morgan grow up? Sure. She’s my kid. Of course I wish I could be there for her. Do I regret that I put an end the Thanos? That sacrificing myself means that the universe is safe from him? No. I don’t. I would choose to sacrifice myself every time, kiddo. Every time,” he said. You felt tears stinging your eyes again. You stood and wrote on the other side of the board, your reasons for staying in the afterlife. There were two. You would get to rest. You would also be reunited with Tony and Natasha. A light started to engulf you. You started to panic and it faded. The four people you had forgotten were there all groaned.

“You almost made a choice. Almost,” Eleanor said.

“She might be as bad as Chidi when it comes to making a decision,” Tahani said.

“Hey!” Chidi said. 

“You know I’m right,” she said. You looked at your two friends. You knew what decision you were making. You just needed to do something first. You hugged Natasha and Tony one last time. Natasha gave you a message, you just hoped that you would remember it. You made your way to the four people who had been tasked with helping you.

“Do you think I have a chance with Black Widow?” Jason asked you. You gave him a look.

“Dude, she isn’t even in this universes’ afterlife. So. No. Besides I thought you two had a little something going on?” you asked pointing between him and Tahani.

“No...no, why would you think...no,” Tahani said. 

“Sure Jan, sure,” you said with a smirk. You felt the warmth again, just before you saw the light starting to engulf you. The last thing you saw was Tony and Nat, watching as you disappeared. When you woke up, you felt pain. The room was bright and had the sterile smell of a hospital. Someone’s hand was in yours. When your eyes focused, you saw Steve. You couldn’t speak with everything you were hooked up to, but that was quickly dealt with. His eyes were shining with tears.

“Thought we lost you for a bit there,” he said. You nodded, taking a small sip of the water he held to your lips. 

“I was...was in a weird place. I saw Tony and Nat. Nat said, she said to tell you Box 107 in Metuchen, New Jersey. Said you would know what it meant,” you said. She had told you two things. One to tell Steve that. The other was a message for Clint. Recognition flashed across Steve’s face.

“You really saw her, huh?” he asked. You nodded. 

“It was so weird. Some dude named Michael said I was in Limbo. And there were these four people who had to help me but they weren’t from our universe they were from an alternate version. Something about a court order...I didn’t think the afterlife had a justice system,” you said. You had a steady stream of visitors while Steve stayed by your side. When Clint showed up, that was when you asked Steve to leave the room. He didn’t want to.

“You only just woke up after being out for a week,” he said.

“Steve, remember what we talked about earlier?” you asked. He sighed.

“Fine, but I’ll be right outside,” he said. You rolled your eyes.

“Okay dear. Run along now,” you teased. He shook his head as he chuckled. When you and Clint were left alone it took you a minute to find your words.

“I was in Limbo. I don’t care if you believe me or not, Clint, but, I saw her. And I saw Tony. They helped me make my decision. Tasha told me to pass along a message. She wants you to know, she doesn’t regret her decision. That it was worth it if it meant you got Laura and the kids back and that they didn’t lose you in the process. She wants you to know how thankful she is for everything you did for her. And then she told me if you don’t believe me to tell you that ‘you and I remember Budapest very differently’ whatever that means,” you said. Clint just pulled you into a hug. You yelped as it pulled on some of the things you were hooked up to.

“Sorry, sorry,” he said. The two of you fell into light conversation before Steve returned. He had real food with him. In that moment, you weren’t sure who or what you were more in love with, Steve or the burger he set in front of you. 

“Easy, you need to eat slowly,” Steve said. 

You were going to be spending a few more days in the medical wing. Thought the compound had been destroyed by Thanos, it had been rebuilt in the aftermath. You had been transferred from the hospital in the city to the compound after you had been stabilized. 

“How are you feeling?” Bucky asked when he came in to check on you. He had finally convinced Steve to leave for longer than thirty minutes. 

“Tired, confused. I don’t know if it was some elaborate dream or not. It felt real though. Seeing them,” you said. 

“What was it like?” Bucky asked. You laughed a little.

“Weird. I was in a place called Limbo, which is apparently a catch all place for every universe. The people helping me were from a different universe where our lives are fiction. This guy Jason from Florida asked if he had a chance with Nat. It was all so bizarre. Apparently it’s all connected and I don’t fully understand it. Honestly I stopped paying attention halfway through the explanation,” you said. Bucky just laughed at the ridiculousness of what you were saying. You fell asleep that night feeling at peace for the first time since the dust had settled from the battle with Thanos. 

Bonus:

“You think she’s getting it on with the Winter Soldier or Captain America?” Jason asked when the woman disappeared. Tony and Natasha shared a look. 

“Jason...you know what, never mind, I don’t want to know,” Chidi said. 

“Alright, Breakfast Club, are we going to be sent back to our afterlife now? I was in the middle of something,” Tony said.

“If you go back into the cabin, a portal should be there that will take you back to your universe’s afterlife,” he said. 

“Is she going to be okay? Will she remember this?” Natasha asked.

“As far as living, yes, she’s going to have another chance. But we don’t know if she’ll remember being here. That’s not something we decide. We’re just humans who got sent to the Bad Place who then tried to get into the Good Place...and...you know what, I don’t think that’s important,” Eleanor said. Natasha looked at her skeptically but she wasn’t going to question things. She was ready to get back to where she belonged in her own universe.

[omg-imagine]

⊱ Green is Not the Devil’s Color ⊰

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader

Request: I just saw that you finished daredevil and as fellow Matt Murdock trash can I pretty please ask for some kind of jealous Matt x reader... :) thank you very much and hope you’re having a lovely time. - Anon

Warnings: Language, brief mentions of alcohol and suggestive material

Words: 2,630

A/N: For the anon who requested this, here you go! It’s long, but I hope you enjoy it! Requests are still open, so feel free to send one in.

(Credit to the GIF owner)

Soon after locking up the office, Matt found himself being dragged to Josie’s by you, Karen, and Foggy for drinks to celebrate the end of a long, tiring week.

Usually, he skipped the outings in favor of patrolling the streets as the vigilante Daredevil. But when you batted your eyelashes at him and promised that drinks would be on you, he couldn’t resist this time around.

Matt liked you a lot which alarmed him, to say the least. He believed that he wasn’t good enough for you; that you deserved so much better than a complicated man such as himself. His life was dangerous due to his “other” job, and he couldn’t imagine how he would react if anything happened to you because of him.

“Hey,” the sound of your sweet voice brought him back to reality, and he was quick to flash you a smile. “Foggy and Karen want another round. Do you want a new beer or you’re good?”

Matt nodded, realizing that you were softly clutching his bicep, and he relished the warmth of your touch. “Yeah, thanks.”

When he heard your footsteps retreating, he heaved out a heavy sigh, holding onto the pool stick in his hands.

Matt was conflicted. Half of him wanted to push you away, create enough distance in hopes that his feelings would eventually disappear. There was also the other half that wanted to flirt shamelessly with you and steal a touch here and there.

With his heightened senses, he knew that you liked him as much as he liked you, yet the only thing standing in the way was his insecurities.

“Fog, look over there,” Karen half-whispered, and Foggy immediately faced where she was nudging her head towards to.

Matt couldn’t see it, but he was able to sense you standing in front of the counter, waiting for Josie to bring out more beers from the back. A man sitting on one of the bar stools nearby saw you and Matt soon became aware of his pulse racing.

From across the room, Matt heard the man introduce himself to you, extending his hand out for you to shake. You shook his hand with a smile and gave him your name. The two of you began a small conversation, one which Matt could listen in its entirety over the chatting patrons and the music playing in the background.

It was harmless from what he could hear. You were just exchanging pleasantries and little bits of information like where you were from, what brought you to this bar, who you were with.

Matt breathed out a sigh of relief when you left the man with the drinks in your hand, returning to the pool table the four of you were occupying.

“Okay, three cheap beers fresh from the stockroom,” you announced as you handed each of your friends a bottle.

Karen caught a glimpse of the man by the counter looking at you. “Who’s the guy?”

“Ryan, he’s new around here,” you answered, glancing behind you and catching Ryan doing the same. “Do you mind if I invite him over here? He seems like a chill guy, and he needs some new friends.”

Foggy and Karen looked at each other and nodded. “We’re cool with it. Matt?”

Matt wasn’t sure what to say, but not wanting to keep you from waiting, he agreed. Quickly, you excused yourself so that you could bring him over to your table.

“Hey, are you okay?” Foggy asked, and Matt gave him his best smile.

“I’m fine,” he stated. “Is it my turn already?”

“Yeah,” Foggy spoke, not entirely convinced with Matt’s answer. “Look, I might not have your special abilities, but I can tell when you’re lying.”

Matt let out an awkward laugh before giving Foggy a shrug. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You don’t want to admit it to me, that’s alright,” Foggy began. “I saw the look on your face when (Y/N) was talking to Ryan and the one you just made when they asked if he could come here.”

“I was not making a face,” Matt denied.

“You kinda were,” Karen said, and Matt snorted at that. “Listen, Foggy, and I have noticed the way you’re tiptoeing around (Y/N). We’re not oblivious to the fact that you like them. We know the reason why you haven’t done anything is that you think you’re not good enough, which is untrue.”

Brushing off Karen’s words, Matt went around the table and leaned in close, choosing to continue the pool game instead of hearing what he already knew.

“Karen’s right, Matt. You two are good together, and you shouldn’t feel that way,” Foggy added. “Just remember that (Y/N) is an amazing person but it’s not fair for them to wait on you forever. We’re just warning you that the more you wait, the more you lose your chance.”

Matt paused as he took in his words but shook his head in response. “We’re better off as friends.”

Foggy scoffed. “Then don’t be surprised when someone else comes along and tries to get with (Y/N).”

“They’re coming back,” Karen remarked, but Matt ignored it, drawing the pool stick back and then pushed it forward, striking the white cue ball.

“Damn, you missed,” you pointed out to Matt, who muttered a curse under his breath. “I think you had one too many drinks, Matty. It’s affecting your super senses.”

Matt gave you a small smile before you introduced the man to the group. “Okay, this is Ryan. He just moved here from Staten Island yesterday. Ryan, these are my good friends and coworkers Foggy Nelson, Karen Page, and Matt Murdock.”

Each one took a turn in shaking Ryan’s hand. When it came to Matt, however, something didn’t sit well with him. There was something not genuine about Ryan, but he couldn’t explain why.

The night progressed without much trouble, aside from the fact that you were entirely occupied with Ryan. Seriously, one of the reasons you listed for why Matt should go tonight was so that you and he could catch up. He was annoyed that you begged him to come only for you to ignore him the remainder of the night.

Matt used his heightened hearing once more to listen in on your conversation. Lies—all the things Ryan had shared about him were lies. He wasn’t an office manager in Manhattan, he didn’t drive a Bentley, nor did he live in one of those new luxury apartments down the block. He lied to you about moving to Hell’s Kitchen; he wasn’t even from New York!

Aside from only talking to Ryan, you were touchy with each other. Sure, you had two or three drinks already, but you were way too comfortable with the guy. At one instance, Matt sensed that Ryan had placed a hand on your thigh. He picked up on your heart racing when Ryan gave you a squeeze, and it took all of Matt’s strength not to snap the pool stick he held in half.

At that point, Matt was seething, but he couldn’t bring himself to speak up. What was he supposed to say? He had no place in telling the guy to back off, especially since based on your reaction alone, you seemed to be enjoying his touch. He could only stand there and simmer in anger.

“Jealous yet, Murdock?” Foggy questioned lowly while Matt continued staring at you and Ryan as if he could see everything that was happening with his very own eyes. “Told you it wouldn’t be too long.”

“The guy’s been feeding them lies ever since they sat down, and they’re falling for it,” Matt bitterly shared, taking a swig of his beer.

Karen sighed, running a hand through her hair. “They seem to be enjoying themselves, though. I haven’t seen (Y/N) this happy in a while. Last time was when—”

Matt shot her a look. “When?”

The blonde flickered her eyes away. “The first couple of months when they started working for us. When you would flirt nonstop with them in the office. When they had a lot of more hope that you would ask them to dinner or something.”

Matt’s lips formed a thin line as the sound of your laughter reached his ears. He remembered those days vividly because they were undoubtedly the happiest times he had with you.

Matt thought about it and took a deep breath. Pushing you away was no use. He realized that his feelings would never go away as much as he tried to fight them. And if tonight wasn’t a clear indication, he could not stand the thought of losing you to someone else.

“It’s not too late yet, Matt,” Foggy said quietly, resting a hand on his best friend’s shoulder. “Go get them.”

Nodding, Matt noticed you standing up and getting ready to leave the bar. Giving Foggy his pool stick, he then swiftly walked over to where you and Ryan were.

“Where are you going?” Matt asked.

“It’s getting late. Ryan’s offered to walk me home,” you replied, taking the jacket that was hanging on the back of your seat and slipping it on.

“(Y/N), let me do that for you,” Matt offered. “Let me walk you home. It’s on the way to my place anyway.”

“Hey, man, it’s fine. You, Foggy and Karen get home safe,” Ryan interjected. “I’ll take care of (Y/N). Besides, the night is still young, and we’re not done getting to know each other yet.”

God would have been extremely impressed by the level of self-control Matt was displaying at that very second. Instead of punching the smugness off his face, he calmly took your hand into his, which caused you to glance up at him, confused.

“Matty, are you alright?” You ran your thumb over the back of his hand, and you felt him squeeze yours softly.

“Yeah, I am,” he said, leaning into you close enough that his lips brushed against your ear. “Please, just trust me on this and come with me.”

Matt stepped backward, still holding onto you as he waited for you to make your next move. You looked at the two men standing in front of you, and after seeing the frustration etched on Ryan’s face, you tugged on Matt’s hand.

“Sorry, Ryan. I guess I’ll see you around,” you waved him off as the corner of Matt’s lips formed a smile.

“Whatever. I can’t believe you chose that blind guy over me. Your loss,” Ryan huffed as he stomped out of the premises.

Foggy and Karen burst out laughing once Ryan disappeared while Matt lifted your hand and gave it a kiss.

It was already one in the morning when everyone decided to call it a night. While waiting for a taxi to take Foggy and Karen back to their place, you all made a plan to do this again next Friday night, to which Matt happily agreed to this time. Once the other two were whisked away in a cab, you and Matt walked to your apartment together as promised.

At that moment, Matt was a mixed bag of emotions. He hasn’t felt any happier in his life than how he did right now. Your arm was locked with Matt’s, navigating him safely on the sidewalk as he silently wished that the night would never come to an end.

“So, what was that about?” You asked him once you reached the stairs of your building. You carefully lead Matt to sit on the third step, taking a seat right beside him.

Matt cocked his head, and you chuckled. “Are you talking about at Josie’s?”

You playfully smacked him on his arm, but he was able to catch your hand before you could hit him. Instead, Matt intertwined his fingers with yours as you laid your head against his shoulder.

“Yup,” you responded. “Don’t think I didn’t notice the way you were looking at Ryan. I thought you were going to go all Daredevil on him.”

“Now, why would I do that?”

You shrugged as you moved your free hand and took the red glasses off his face, smiling at the sight of his warm brown eyes. Matt knew that you were staring at him, and judging by the way your body was reacting, you liked what you were seeing.

“Maybe it’s because you were jealous,” you teased.

“Jealous?” Matt repeated as if it was the most absurd idea in the world. “I think you saw it all wrong.”

“Did I?” You giggled. “Matthew Murdock, you are not the first jealous man I’ve encountered, so I know it when I see one.”

“Why would I be jealous of that douche?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” you began as you reached up to cup the side of his face, his beard scratching your palm. “All of my attention was on him, and he was flirting with me. We were both getting handsy with one another—”

“Okay, perhaps I was a little jealous,” Matt said in defeat.

“A little? No, you were angry. You were pissed, I could tell,” you added, recalling the way his jaw clenched back at the bar. “Don’t deny it. It was cute, I appreciated it.”

“Cute?” Matt chuckled, pretending to be offended by your statement.

“Fine, it was hot,” you fanned yourself, and Matt laughed at your joke. “But don’t worry, I wasn’t planning on having Ryan stay or anything. I really wanted to go home, but I didn’t want to bother you, Karen, or Foggy since you guys were busy playing pool. I didn’t want to walk home alone, so I agreed when he offered. I know that everything he told me was bullshit.”

“Yeah, I heard that and could tell he was lying.”

You raised a brow at him. “Did you just admit to using your advanced hearing abilities to eavesdrop on my private conversation?”

“Uh, yes,” he said with a sheepish smile. “But for a good reason, though. I had a gut feeling that something was off about him.”

“Well, thanks, Murdock. You were right.”

He leaned his head towards yours, placing a kiss on top of your head. “Anytime.”

A beat passed before you spoke again. “Now, what?”

“How about dinner? Not tonight obviously, but sometime this week,” he suggested as you watched the words leave his mouth.

“It only took another guy to flirt with me for you to finally ask me out?”

Matt froze as he blushed at your observation. “I guess the whole thing helped me realize that I shouldn’t wait any longer when it comes to you.”

The happiness immediately radiated off from you, and Matt could feel it. He listened as your heart fluttered, your face inching closer to his. Matt noticed the similar way his body was responding when your lips lightly brushed against his as if you were testing the waters.

Matt tilted his head to give you better access as you kissed him whole-heartedly, your lips effortlessly melding with his. He brought one hand to the side of your neck and pulled you closer to him. Your breathing grew heavy as he deepened the kiss, committing to memory the way you tasted on his lips.

Before anything could happen further, Matt ended the kiss, resting his forehead against yours as you both tried to catch your breath.

“I’ve always wanted to do that,” he muttered.

“Me too,” you whispered, stealing another kiss from Matt.

“So, what do you say about dinner?”

You hummed as Matt snaked his arm behind your neck, and you instantly nestled into his warm side. He felt you nod your head and he swore he could hear his own heart hammering inside his chest.

Pressing a kiss against your temple, he then smiled. “It’s a date.”

[forasecondtherewedwon]

Alright on Paper Pairing: Peter Parker x Michelle Jones (Spideychelle) Rating: T (for now) Word count: 1699 Chapter: 1/?

Spideychelle Week Day 4: Fake Dating

Summary: Reading the newspaper has taught MJ a lot about the Avengers' relationships. Doesn't mean she wants to be in one.

Or, MJ fake-dates Spider-Man, but won't commit because she has a crush on Peter Parker.

MJ reads the paper.

Oh, what, she’s supposed to be above reading the paper because print is dead and the internet offers both more news (stories and outlets) and faster access to it? Tough. She still reads it because her dad still gets it. He’s had a subscription since he graduated college and thought reading the Times―tucking it under his arm and flipping through the pages while he rode the subway―was a more accurate measure of adulthood than owning a car. (They still don’t have a car, by the way. MJ is never going to learn to drive. Ugh.)

The appeal that drew her to it, at the age of four, was the occasional editorial cartoon, utterly beyond her comprehension. These days, she’s a little more interested in the articles on domestic politics, but hey, people are allowed to evolve.

So if you’re her, you’re MJ, you’re living in New York and you’re paying attention, you’re going to notice the Avengers. Notice shit like violent attacks and streets covered in rubble―although, that’s basically the city at rush hour during construction season. She’s noticing other things though, Avengers voicing opinions, reviving a feeling of civic interest, pride, and responsibility. She’s noticing the tide turning; citizens less interested in blaming superheroes for unscheduled demolition in Manhattan and more interested in who does Hawkeye’s tattooing or which karaoke bar Thor can most likely be found at on a Friday night.

And the Avengers’ relationships. New Yorkers are feeding on (super-)human interest stories with their faces so close to the pages they just about rub all the ink off with their noses.

It’s a terrible thing to know this, to be as observant as MJ is, tracking these changing attitudes and becoming an accidental expert on the path to good PR for the biologically, magically, genetically, or otherwise enhanced. Reading the paper is what gets her in trouble―sooner, rather than later―when Spider-Man starts hanging around.

Technically, he’s always hanging (that web shit is strong stuff, by the looks of it), and he’s always around. MJ figured out ages ago that Queens is his home base. Still, their borough’s just big enough and just crowded enough that she’d never encountered him in person until a few months ago. Now she sees him all. The. Time. He says coincidence, she says to-mah-to, and it really is him saying that because they’re officially on speaking terms. It’s an improvement to their interactions, mutually decided upon after Spider-Man scared the bejesus out of her when she was standing on her apartment’s balcony one day, glanced over the edge, and saw him crawling up the wall.

The deal became that if he was going to drop by, he better be obvious about it. This led to a routine MJ is loath to describe with the word ‘charming,’ but which may or may not involve her going out to the balcony or chilling by the open window of her bedroom on Saturday mornings, after her parents have left to run errands, and offering Spider-Man a glass of orange juice while they chat and she shares her paper with him. He likes the arts section. She likes watching him read it, sticking to the wall outside her window, the posters for whatever’s in theatres appearing upside down.

He joked one time about them catching a Saturday matinee together. She’s pretty sure he was joking.

The deal evolves as the weeks go by. MJ’s apartment is less of a rest stop between crime-fighting gigs and more of a superhero counselling centre with only one client. Not that Spider-Man is looking to her, a high school student, to mend whatever trauma led to him donning a formfitting red costume and babysitting an entire city, but she’s sure giving him a lot of advice lately.

It’s just… life stuff, really, and MJ doesn’t know where he sees authority when he looks at her, yawning in her jammies as she passes his juice through the open window, but he seems to listen. Maybe her dad was right about the paper; it’s possible that reading it makes her appear wise.

But it makes her act like a damn idiot in a crisis.

She’s heading to a guidance appointment one Wednesday (it’s junior year and MJ is getting some assistance with scouting out colleges) and the halls are empty; she was given permission to leave class five minutes early. When she turns the corner towards the guidance room, there’s Spider-Man. Just standing there. Middle of the hallway. MJ drops a textbook and it strikes the ground with a deafening slap.

This is her comfortable weekend companion, the hero of Queens. She adjusted to understanding that Spider-Man can be both, but there doesn’t seem to be any room in her mind for him to also exist midmorning at Midtown Tech.

He’s staring back at her (she can tell―the aperture of the white eyes on his mask has expanded in shock), arms held away from his body sort of comically, and MJ’s trying to recall if she’s ever seen him upright before when the jarring old-school bell rings and students flood from the door of every classroom.

Spider-Man bounds towards her, grabs her book from the floor, pushes it to her chest until she grips it, and says, “I know what to do.”

Everyone’s starting to make sounds of surprise, recognizing the Avenger in their midst, but even though MJ knows Spider-Man is kind of a hero of the people, he’s not acknowledging them at all. In fact, he’s wrapping his arms around her, and her eyes―boy oh boy―are wide. There’s just one thing on her mind besides what his suit feels like against the backs of her hands…

She’s praying that Peter isn’t seeing this.

“I’ll swing by your apartment later,” Spider-Man promises, speaking quietly near her ear.

He puts another little squeeze into the hug before stepping back. Reeling, MJ watches him give their audience a polite wave as he walks backwards in the direction of the nearest exit.

“Sorry, guys,” he tells the gathered crowd. “Uh, duty calls. I just wanted to stop by and see my girlfriend.”

Heads are swivelling to stare at MJ even before she drops the book for the second time.

\\\

“How?” she demands of him that evening, pacing tightly on the balcony while her parents laugh along to a sitcom in the living room. “How could that be you ‘knowing what to do’?!”

“I was doing what you said,” Spider-Man says defensively. He’s pacing too, along the balcony’s two-inch-wide railing. (She’s too mad to be worried.)

“Excuse me? We’re putting this on me? When was I an active part of that plan, while I was holding that stupid textbook or while my arms were pinned because you were hugging me? I’d really like to know.”

“W-well, it’s what you said about public perception of the Avengers.”

“Specifics!”

“Like Iron Man,” he argues, lowering his voice after how she snapped. “People like hearing about him and Pepper Potts.”

“And have you always modeled yourself after Tony Stark, or is this sudden, public relationship announcement your first foray?”

They stare at each other for a minute, Spider-Man balancing and MJ looking up at him―which is kind of weird after they hugged today and she realized he’s shorter than she is. She sighs, regretting her harsh words.

“I’m sorry,” she offers. “I know what you did was thoughtless―”

“Well―”

“―ill-advised―”

“Literally your advice.”

“―and, frankly, moronic―”

“Hey.”

“―but I get it, you panicked―”

“I had it under control.”

“―so I forgive you.”

“Oh. Well, thanks.”

“Now, come down here so I don’t have to keep resisting the urge to shove you off that railing.”

Once Spider-Man flips down (she’s already forgiven him―what, does he think he’s getting bonus points for landing the dismount?), MJ crosses her arms and gives that red mask of his a stern look.

“Still not thrilled, huh?”

“Good guess,” she says dryly.

“I might be missing something here, but… why? I mean, I didn’t think I did anything to embarrass you. Did I hurt you somehow?”

MJ shrugs and stares at her slippers.

“People saw.”

There’s a pause.

“…We already knew that.” His tone is almost clueless enough to make her apprehensive that this is the guy she and the rest of Queens have protecting them.

“I don’t know if… if a certain person saw.”

She’s blushing hard to admit even this much of a crush and she’d be mortified if she wasn’t making her confession to this socially illiterate superhero.

“Boyfriend?” Spider-Man asks. MJ glances up to see him leaning extremely un-casually against the wall, arms folded a little less tensely than hers.

“You sound skeptical,” she accuses.

“You’ve never mentioned him.”

MJ glares for a few seconds before backing down.

“No, he’s not my boyfriend. And you didn’t know that either because we only ever talk about you.”

“I don’t have a girlfriend,” Spider-Man immediately offers, like he’s trying to even things up.

Groaning, she lets her shoulders slump.

“You do now.”

“Yeah, I guess it’s pretty unlikely that nobody took a picture.”

“Safe to assume the students of a school called Midtown Tech are tech-savvy enough to work a cellphone camera. By the way,” MJ adds, narrowing her eyes at him, “why were you there?”

“Oh, um, gas leak in one of the Chemistry labs. They dispatch the fire department for that kind of thing and I hate for emergency services to get tied up if I can fix it myself.”

“Huh. I had no idea gas leaks were in your repertoire. Thought muggers and bicycle thieves were more your beat.”

She’s teasing him pretty lightly considering he definitely just lied to her. It’s fine, she’ll wait to crack him until he’s forgotten all about visiting her school.

Spider-Man swings his arms nervously.

“If it’s a community problem, I’m on it. I’m just a friendly―”

“―neighbourhood Spider-Man,” MJ finishes. “Yeah, I’ve heard the tagline. And you’re also my fake boyfriend until we figure out a way for you to tactfully dump me.”

He takes an excited step towards her.

“I know wha―”

She cuts him off with a swiftly raised hand.

“Don’t even say it.”

[findmeintheafterglow]

A Guide to Every Single Newsie

There are way too many of those punks. If you’re new to all this come learn whom is who

Let’s start with some pictures, they’re blurry because it’s surprisingly hard to get a decent screenshot. There are lots of them but hopefully just seeing their faces a few times will help you. Recognizing them just comes with time trust me, I used to struggle to find Race and now I see a pic of someone's feet and am like “ah yes Finch my boy”. Also, I’m only covering the newsies live cast because that’s what you can legally watch and what most people are familiar with. Also, I didn’t want to do every cast member to ever be on Broadway or tour.

Please note some of the things I’m about to say may not be canon but are part of what I know is widely considered true within the fandom. As far as sexuality I may mention it with some characters/who they’re commonly shipped with just so y’all aren’t lost when you see fics and things.

Jack: You know Jack so I’m not going that deep into his character. He’s 17, full name Francis Sullivan, newsie nickname is Cowboy. He’s the leader of the newsies of Lower Manhattan. A charismatic asshole who really just wants meaningful relationships and happiness for those he loves. Undeniably bisexual. Played by Jeremy Jordan.

Davey: Full name is David Jacobs, newsie nickname is Walking Mouth though he’s only addressed by his nickname in the 1992 movie. The most educated, attended school until he was around 17 ish. He’s a doofy little nerd and also mom friend ultimate, I repeat bc this is a defining trait Mom Friend Ultimate. I’m not sure if this is canon but pretty much everyone recognizes that he and his family are Jewish. Played by Ben Fankhauser.

Les: Sassy angel child. Full name Lesley Jacobs. Albert calls him shortstop a few times but it’s not quite a newsie name tm. 10 years old(almost). Also pretty Jewish. He’s kind of an impressionable little firecracker, he looks up to all the newsies but especially Jack. He just has a lot of energy and wants to hang with the big kids. Sass master in training. Buckets of charm packed into about 4 feet of human. Played by Ethan Steiner.

Crutchie: Crutchie! You know him! You’ve already fallen madly in love with him! Lost use of one of his legs to polio. Last name is Morris for sure and a lot of people say his real name is Charlie. Jack’s closest friend. He’s often painted as a pure sunshine boy, he is a pure sunshine boy. However, he is also tough, streetsmart and ready to fight. Very kindhearted and eternally optimistic. Played by Andrew Keenan-Bolger(you may see it abbreviated as AKB).

Race: This boy has lots of names so strap in. Racetrack Higgins is his name, people mostly call him Race not Racetrack. He is also sometimes called Racer. I don’t think this is canon but as a fandom, I think we’ve determined that he’s aggressively Italian and his real first name is Antonio, you may also see Anthony or Tony. Best friends with Albert. Crutchie is Jack’s best friend but Race is sort of Jack’s second in command. Sprace, him and Spot Conlon, are pretty much the biggest ship in Newsies. He’s a gambler and has an affinity for betting on horse races. He sells by the Sheepshead Racetrack hence his nickname. Very easy to recognize because he always has a cigar. The definition of a disaster gay. He has good intentions most of the time but is also a chaotic piece of shit. Played by Ben Tyler Cook(BTC).

Albert: Albert DaSilva is his name, having fantastic hair is his game. Race’s best friend. Personality is similar to Race but a little less chaotic, like he still does dumb things all the time but isn’t nearly as loud. Prankmaster and Sassmaster ultimate. Lives on the lower east side with his dad and two older brothers but generally that fact is ignored and he’s lumped in as living in the lodgings.  His cap is on backwards most of the time which can help you recognize him. Played by Sky Flaherty.

Spot: Spot Conlon, the man, the myth, the legend. Leader of Brooklyn. Comically short but will also soak you without hesitation. Side note bc I didn’t know this for a long time: the newsies call beating someone up “soakin’ ‘em” because you beat them up so bad they’re soaked in blood. Back to Spot, he’s tough as nails but also cares about his boys in Brooklyn a lot. Played by Tommy Bracco.

Elmer: A smart yet small boy. Very good at math and science and somewhat interested in politics. He has 8 older siblings. Polish apparently? I learned this very recently?? A very friendly and sunshiney guy. The newsies make fun of him saying that he’s bad at selling papes. He’s a hardworker. This is definitely not canon but you may see his last name as being Kasprzak. This comes from Evan Kasprzak, the actor who played Elmer in the Papermill and Original Broadway Casts. People like writing about Elmer so they just kinda gave him that last name and it works. Played by Anthony Zas.

Jojo: Jorgelino Josephino De La Guerra where to begin. A good Catholic boy. He was raised by nuns in a cathedral in Harlem. A nice boy, a kind boy. Down for some shenanigans but is generally reasonable and doesn’t want anyone to get hurt. Very ambitious and wants to be a big baller(in KONY he wishes for a solid gold watch I mean). Played by Joshua Burrage.

Buttons: Benjamin Buttons Davenport, what a guy. So I don’t know that he’s actually younger but he definitely reads as a little more youthful. He’s optimistic and easily excitable and overall kinda has this genuine hope and happiness that some of the other guys have lost to the street. He lives with his family and has at least a few siblings but I feel like he has hella. Not gonna be last in line for the tub tonight. Played by Chaz Wolcott.

Romeo: Will flirt with anything that moves. He has very distinctive bright red and blue striped socks if that helps you identify him. Is one of the younger newsies but makes up for it with overconfidence. Very lighthearted, we never see him get too serious. A charmer through and through. Still a very kind and caring guy. Played by Nico DeJesus.

Specs: Specs is a good one. He wears glasses obviously so you can identify him pretty easy. Definitely on the older end of the newsies. There’s no basis for this in canon but I feel like he’s been around longer than Jack. Kind of helps lead and run things with Race and Jack because he’s the most responsible motherfucker in that lodging house. Think kinda like Davy where he’s a bit of a mom but more easygoing, less cautious and more one of the boys. Generally a happy guy and so so sweet. Very forward thinking and genuinely likes selling papes. Played by Jordan Samuels.

Finch: Finch! A personal favorite please show him love. Full name is Patrick Cortes. He has a family(or at least a mom) but ran away when he was little. He carries a slingshot with him a good amount of the time so use that to find him. He’s sarcastic, funny, and always rarin’ to go. Tough but not in an “I’ll fight you” way. He will fight you if needed but it’s more like “Life’s a bitch but look how far I’ve made it”. Kinda like a cool older brother vibe but throw in a good handful of antsy. Played by my main man Iain Young.

Sniper: Mkay it’s time for the tough boi trio, these next three are fighters. Last name is Wah. His dad is named Sam Wah and owns a laundromat above Jacobi’s Deli. You may see him as a girl in fics or hcs because for almost all of the tour he was played by a woman. Boy has aim like no other. He is confirmed to be the quickest and strongest of the newsies. Also sly and cunning. Boy’s like a snake or a fox or whatever simile you prefer but regardless be scared. Has a reputation so people don’t mess with him. Would never hurt another Manhattan boy, he’s scary but he defends his brothers. Played by Daniel Switzer.

Tommy Boy: Don’t know a ton about Tommy Boy but here we go. He’s a man of few words, when he talks his answers are brief and to the point. Not in a mean way though that’s just how he is. Appears to be confrontational as he’s consistently seen stepping to a fight(before the world will know when Jack says “keep your shirt on” and when he scabs he gets in people’s faces). A good dependable guy but kinda mysterious, I would not provoke. Played by Michael Dameski.

Mush: Last name is Myers. First name is possibly Nick? In the real strike, there was a boy named Nick Myers so. He lives in Harlem?? But who cares about canon, ignore that. Mush is a ‘hattan boy. Has a lisp. He considers himself to be the muscle of Manhattan and will throw down for his brothers. When the strikebreakers show up, Jack literally has to hold him back because Mush is just trying to get to those hoes so he can protect the rest of the boys just yellin’ “Nah man I’ll get ‘em”. Very caring and very selfless. Boy’s got muscle but is totally a teddy bear with a heart of gold. I’ve always thought of him as your classic rough and tumble but clean-cut caring all-American boy. Played by Nick Masson.

Henry: Last name is possibly butler after the real life newsboy, Henry Butler but the only confirmed name we have is Henry. Became a newsie at 11 when his dad died and his family lost their deli. Has a mom who he still sees sometimes but doesn’t live with. Boy really likes food. It reminds him of the deli with his dad and also he just really. likes. food. Fairly easygoing, practical, and will call guys out on their bullshit(e.g. whom the fuck cares about being famous). Played by Michael Rios.

Smalls: Smalls! I don’t got much at all but here’s what I know. Very commonly thought about as a girl as Smalls was played by girlsies for all(?) of the Broadway run. Pretty firey or at least high energy. Sometimes headcannoned as being leader of the Bronx because in the normal not filmed staging he’s the one to yell “so’s the Bronx”. Played by Julian DeGuzman.

Mike: Twin brother of Ike. These guys are hard to tell apart because they’re played by actual twins but here are some distinctions. Mike wears a brown cap, a plaid shirt, and green socks. Played by Jacob Guzman.

Ike: Twin brother of Mike. Has a dark grey cap, a striped shirt, pin-striped pants, and brown socks. Both twins seem to be pretty fun-loving. They kinda rough house a lot and are often messing around. Played by David Guzman

Hotshot: A Brooklyn newsie, I don’t really know his deal? A typical production doesn’t have Hotshot in it but he was in the filmed version and was apparently there towards the end of the broadway run. Kind of arrogant and tough. Sometimes seen as Spot’s second. Has literally only ever been played by J.P. Ferreri.

Vince/Myron: Ok so for newsies live they just threw in some extra newsboys for the heck of it and this guy is one of those. I don’t even know his name because the actor who plays him also plays a strikebreaker. On the wiki cast list, it just lists him as playing Vince and Myron with no indication as to who’s the newsie and who’s the strike breaker. Just from the nature of the names I can guess that Vince is the newsie? A big tough Brooklyn boy. Played by Stephen Hernandez.

Willie/Bart: Same deal as Vince/Myron. I’d be willing to guess that Willie is the newsie. Another Brooklyn boy. Played by Andrew Wilson.

Kenny: Also thrown in just for newsies live but I actually know his name. A pretty sunny guy, as far as I can remember he’s always smiling. Not in any of the pictures because he’s not in any of those scenes. It’s the same guy who plays darcy so go to carrying the banner or once and for all and find the guy in the yellow suit. That’s Darcy, Kenny looks just like that but in newsie clothes. Played by Jack Sippel.

Am I about to throw Bill and Darcey in just for kicks? yeah I think I am. Ok so this is a last minute decision and I don’t have pictures for these guys but here we go.

Bill: Not a newsie. Son of William Randolph Hearst, owner of the New York Journal. Full name William Randolph Hearst Jr. Katherine and Darcey’s friend. A sophisticated, classy, educated boy. Not tough in a street way but is kind of cold/reserved or maybe just a bit calculating. You can definitely tell he’s a rich boy by the way he holds himself. Looks like Mush bc they’re played by the same actor. Blue suit. Played by Nick Masson.

Darcey: Not a newsie. Son of Whitelaw Reid, owner of the New York Tribune. Still high class but more excitable and interested in the newsies world. Very kind and always concerned of behalf of others. His sweetness does not equal weakness, when Romeo approaches Kath in Carrying the Banner, he’s ready to handle the situation. Yellow suit. Played by Jack Sippel.

so there we go that is every newsie I could think of and then some. I’m gonna attach the pictures I have of an old wikipedia cast list which is what I use for reference since the one that's on wiki now isn’t great

That’s it! If you actually read all this, God bless you. If I got anything blatantly wrong or if you have any questions please talk to me

[clansayeed]

Bound by Destiny II, part 1 ― Chapter 15: The King of Vampires

PAIRING: Kamilah Sayeed x MC (Nadya Al Jamil) RATING: Mature

⥼ MASTERLIST ⥽

⥼ Bound by Destiny II, part 1 ⥽

While struggling with nightmares of lives she’s never lived, a shadow from the past looming over her city, and the proposed idea that her life may just be a little bit too weird to handle alone, Nadya makes sure to tell herself that everything is perfect just the way it is. If only. When the self-proclaimed King of Vampires (and Maker of her sometimes-girlfriend and always-boss, can’t forget that little tidbit) Gaius Augustine returns intent on claiming Manhattan as the throne that was promised, she and her friends find themselves forced into the task of saving the world. But with millennia-old vampires and an Order of hunters on their heels as well as allies hiding catastrophic secrets at their backs… it won’t be an easy task. Too bad destiny didn’t exactly ask for her input.

Bound by Destiny II and the rest of the Oblivion Bound series is an ongoing dramatic retelling project of the Bloodbound series and spin-off, Nightbound. Find out more [HERE].

*Let me know if you would like to be added to the Destiny II tag list!

⥼ Chapter Summary ⥽

Gaius wastes no time taking back his kingdom. The Clans are disbanded, Nadya and her friends are on the run, and there's a giant sinkhole in the middle of Central Park. The bare bones of a plan turns their sights overseas... But not everyone intends on making the trip.

[READ IT ON AO3]

“Though you may not have known it, you have been waiting for me from the moment you were reborn. Your blood is my blood. You have yearned for me without name, without understanding — for too long.

“But no longer. For I have returned to claim my kingdom in Her name. And all will rejoice in the spoils as we take our rightful place on this Earth.”

Cold air biting at her cheeks, stinging in her eyes turning tears into acid carving paths through her skin, a burning like the end of the world in her lungs. Muscles screaming, tearing; she’s being torn apart ripped to ribbons head on a pike blood warm and wet soaked into her clothes, down her skin slick and sumptuous.

His eyes burning like the sun into her soul.

Wailing sirens all around and she can’t tell what isn’t a scream, what isn’t her screaming. Which of those screams are her and which of them are the parts of her that aren’t her, that are them, and the ones that have already fallen.

Gaius makes good on his promises.

A shadow passes over the moon and Nadya swears on her life that it’s him, that he’s found them, that they were foolish for running it was only a matter of time before he flew down from the heavens and set them on fire from the inside out. She screams — knows this time it’s her because of the daggers in her lungs from the effort of it — but the helicopter is dangerously low to the treetops and the blades down her out as three of them whip over her head.

She doesn’t realize she’s fallen to her knees until a strong pair of hands haul her up and the skin stings.

“We have to keep moving. Do you understand me, Nadya?” Adrian grips her upper arms in a too-tight grip. He doesn’t mean to shake her but he does — he’s shaking too. “Nadya — Nadya!”

She watches a trembling hand come up to thumb away the crust of dried blood from his upper lip. Takes her a second to realize its her own. She doesn’t feel real. She feels like him, like them; like everyone else and all of their screams tear at the back of her throat.

“Adrian!”

He looks ahead where the others have stopped in the middle of the park path. Nadya can see the imprint of Gaius’ boot in dirt on the back of his neck.

“We’re too exposed here!” Jax shouts from up ahead. “We need to get underground now!”

Every time something streaks across the night sky all Nadya can see is Gaius, rising and so so bright and full of vibrant unearthly life. She can still feel the columns of the Chamber rumbling, crumbling, tumbling down bringing the world above down with it filled with dirt and debris and the bones of ages long-gone.

The gateway statue falling head-first two feet in front of her.

The night sky and her stars shining through the plumes of smoke and dirt; the moon as a spotlight on all the things dark and dangerous in the world.

Adrian whirls back to face her and his tears are her tears are his tears and no matter who they belong to they break her heart anyway.

“Nadya… please.”

She chokes on her words when they crawl all the way up her throat.

“You — you can’t. We can’t —” —why are we doing this why are we running oh god he’s right behind us or Valdas is or Priya or Jameson or any one we can’t do this we can’t we can’t wecan’t— “— what are we doing? We can’t outrun…”

A god?

Nadya slaps a hand over her mouth and tastes dirt with her tears. Every sob wrenched from her guttural, angry; terrified. She wants to pull away but knows she doesn’t have the strength to stand on her own two feet without him.

“We can’t outrun him, Adrian.”

“We can try.”

It hurts; putting one foot in front of the other — over and over again until she’s running. Her hand clinging desperately to his, slipping through sweat and blood but he never leaves her stranded.

It hurts so much. She does it anyway.

When they reach Times Square the world is ending just enough that seven ragged survivors don’t make much of a difference.

They stop because Kamilah has stopped. Kamilah who doesn’t know what to do, doesn’t know how to save them from this, but she’s the oldest and that means it always defaults to her doesn’t it? She stares up in an eerie sort of calm and that means they stare up, too.

News crews have already reached the scene. Vans on the ground trying to get as close as they can amid the debris and helicopters overhead hoping for the best angle for whatever dares to emerge from the sinkhole that erupted out of nowhere in the middle of Central Park.

The chaotic bustle of Times Square has come to a grinding halt as everyone; pedestrians, drivers, tourists, all hold their breaths and wait for whatever comes next.

They don’t have to wait. They know. And Nadya wants to claw herself from Adrian’s grasp and run to the old woman a yard away and shake her and scream in her face “Run now you don’t know what’s coming!” or to the business man relaying everything he’s seeing on the large omniscient screens into the bluetooth in his ear “He’s going to kill you, get away while you still can!”

But that would draw attention. That would lead him straight to them.

Maricruz hangs up her call and, with one final look at her phone, snaps it backwards and in half. Her face is stoic but that doesn’t stop how her voice betrays her. “Arnold’s on his way.”

Jax nods and wipes the sweat from his temples with the back of his hand. It just smears wet dirt over his face. He doesn’t look like he cares much.

What are they doing, Nadya wants to ask as they seclude themselves away in an alley facing away from the endless on-sight reporting happening in brilliant HD above them; away from the attention.

Where are they going, she wants to ask when Adrian ushers her into the familiar beat-up white van, when Arnold slams his boot on the accelerator before she even has her footing.

Why are they running?

He’ll find them. If he doesn’t know where they are already. Nadya can still feel the awful, violating tendrils of him lashing out violently for her mind. Eager, not desperate, but demanding to invade her. And surely she can’t be the only one.

She looks up. Watches as Lily has her hands restrained by Jax to keep her from slamming the heels of her palms into her skull. Sees Cadence with his glasses broken in his lap and eyes squeezed shut trying to block it out. Tries to get Kamilah to catch her gaze but she’s just two feet to the left and worlds away at the same time.

She’s not the only one.

“From this moment forward there is no Council. There are no Clans. We are one people, glorious and powerful and we will take what is ours! We will take back the kingdom I promised you so long ago.”

It was one thing being Nadya and watching while Gaius stopped Lester’s attempted flight to freedom with nothing more than an outstretched hand. It was another thing entirely being Lester himself and feeling the darkness, the pulsating power and influence of him as he’s turned around by an invisible force, brought to kneel at the feet of that smile both beautiful and cruel, and burned to nothing but a pile ash from a single touch.

She tightens her fists until her palms bleed to remind herself she’s still alive.

“Nadya—no—what are you doing?”

Adrian forces her hands up and open with concern woven deep into his brow. He wants an answer — Nadya wishes she could give him one, really.

He goes to bite his thumb and heal her with a drop of blood but a hand stops him.

“No,” says Kamilah softly; she coaxes Nadya to the edge of her seat and looks over the wounds herself, “you’ve lost too much blood already. We’ll need you strong for what lies ahead.”

What lies ahead. Words that echo in ricochet around her empty skull while Nadya sits complacent and allows Kamilah to do the work for her.

“Where are we supposed to go?”

With the rumble of city traffic outside the van’s dented walls, Lily is hard to hear. She sounds so quiet; so confused. And no one has an answer which doesn’t exactly make it better.

“We’ll regroup in the Shadow Den,” Jax answers hesitantly, “we have to warn them all, anyway. When things get like this… it’s always the weakest that get picked off first. I have a responsibility to my people.”

“Which Gaius will have anticipated.” He glares at Kamilah for her pessimism… but she’s not wrong, is she.

“Then do you have any better ideas?”

“This is not a measure of ideas, but one of survival. The only course left is to leave the city if we are to hope to fight another day.”

Cadence gives a rueful laugh, his head hitting the glass partition heavily. “Fight against what, exactly? Or was I the only one who saw him consume the blood of a goddess and fly up into the air like a cheesy film?”

“He’s right,” though Adrian is reluctant to admit it, “the blood of the First Vampire restored him to full power and then some. He’s not just our Maker anymore.

“You can’t kill a god.”

His words settle over them all heavy; stifling. Suffocating in Nadya’s case. She rubs at her sternum and has to remind her body how breathing works. In through the nose… out through the mouth…

But every time she closes her eyes she sees him. Sees the pinkening of life return to his cheeks growing smooth and firm and youthful, each strand of dark hair sprouting from his head and falling around his face, framing the newfound clarity in his eyes.

His eyes; how they had changed. From that blue of a cloudless daytime sky to the now-familiar bright and predatory red — only they didn’t stop. Brighter and brighter and brighter until they were burning flames crackling hollow with the victory in his laughter.

And She had stood beside him all that time. Watched as one of their own as Gaius ascended to the vaulted Chamber ceiling and declared himself restored; reborn. Just as beautiful as before — as She had always been and would be.

“I understand, My Goddess,” Gaius had said, “I feel you with me now.”

Maybe he could see her, too. Nadya won’t rule out the possibility. But there’s a feeling itching at the back of her throat that he hadn’t.

That only Nadya herself could.

“Yes, we can.” Nadya slips out of this memory easier than ever before.

“It’s been done before.”

She looks up to Kamilah with an unspoken question burning in her eyes. The vampiress hesitates at first; unsure if she’s supposed to take this seriously. After all — gods were rumors, even if the First Vampire was not. But if that’s the case then there’s a rumor who just sent the entire island of Manhattan into a reeling panic with a giant sinkhole and the exposed ruins of a throne room he intends to restore to its former glory. There’s a rumor that’s after them, that wants them hunted down; wants them killed.

Kamilah knows this — Nadya watches her struggle to try and bear the brunt of the weight it brings.

“What happened was… nearly a thousand years before my time, Nadya. I wouldn’t know where to begin. The truth of what happened to the First was the one secret Gaius would never tell.”

“He doesn’t have to.” Because there has to be a reason Nadya sees Her; there has to be. “He can’t keep secrets from me.”

“Do you even think it possible?”

“Maybe — I… I dunno. But he did this; he forced me into these memories before my time. And I’m gonna make him regret it.” It isn’t like she’s never delved into the depths of Gaius’ memories before. “I doesn’t know how, or where to look, or what to look for, but if Jameson can force a memory out of me… who says I can’t do it to myself? It’s my ability, after all.” And I should know how to use it, though that part she leaves out to avoid shaking what little confidence she has.

Understanding comes easy to Kamilah — it’s the acceptance that she struggles with, that has her face buried in her hands. Thankfully they don’t have to explain it — the rest catch on quickly enough.

So this is the thing they’re doing then. “And think about it — we know a psychic of our own, don’t we? Isadora; we could hide out in New Orleans — I’m sure they’d help us — and Isadora could try the same thing Jameson did, and —”

And she falls flat as Adrian shakes his head beside her. “She may be a good psychic, but Jameson’s abilities are more than innate — there’s a reason the Council kept him close at hand. He’s had access to every school of psychic study for hundreds of years.”

“So we find someone else. Someone who has hundreds of years on him.” If such a person exists.

Nadya has no idea what exactly she said but Kamilah and Adrian go still as stone; meeting eyes over a tool box filled hastily that rattles when the van hits a pothole or sewer cover. But she knows one thing; she knows that look.

“Serafine?”

“Serafine.”

“But I’ve only barely kept up with her,” Adrian hesitates almost sheepishly, “have you?”

Kamilah frowns. “Not as well as I should have. Her roots to Paris are strong, though. That would be a place to start.”

“Is it safe there?”

“Is it safe here?”

She has a point. Adrian concedes and digs in his jacket pocket for his phone. He pulls it free and grimaces at the cracked screen, but it blinks to life under his touch and that’s all that matters.

“Who is Serafine?” Nadya asks; since it’s obvious neither of the two realize they should explain.

Adrian doesn’t look up from his message, so he misses the look Kamilah gives him before she answers.

“Serafine is an old friend. And, more importantly, she’s arguably the most powerful psychic vampire I’ve ever met.”

“Even more powerful than Jameson?”

“I would not doubt it.”

The back of the van darkens once more as Adrian pockets his phone with a curt nod to Kamilah. They’ve done all they can on that front.

If only their problems were over.

“And how are we supposed to get to Paris,” Jax argues; because he’s the only one who can, “when we don’t even know yet if we’ve got a place to hide out?”

“There are a couple of old smuggling outposts we could hole up in,” suggests Maricruz, “places we could wait him out, see where things end up and make a plan from there.”

Jax knocks their knees to get her attention. He doesn’t look nearly as confident about that idea. “Any of the trade routes we let dry up are known by the Baron’s people. It’s an easy trap.”

“Well I don’t see you coming up with anything better.”

Adrian pinches the bridge of his nose. “Gaius isn’t the kind of man you can wait out. He’s a skilled tactician, and his patience has starved out armies far larger than us. If we can make it over the East River and to the airport we may have a chance.”

“Shit, we’re going the wrong way.” Jax grumbles under his breath. He raps his knuckles against the glass and slides it open to relay the change of plan to Arnold. They jerk to a stop — his frustrated curses lost in the squeal of old brakes, and everyone braces to keep from falling over while he turns sharply and starts heading back in the other direction.

Back towards Central Park… and Gaius. Whose voice still echoes in their minds; in the minds of every vampire in the city — and Nadya too. Louder and louder the closer they get.

“I understand this change may not come easily to some of you. In time, however, I hope that you will come to realize this was inevitable. That this was the plan from he beginning — that I brought our kind here for the start of a new era; a new kingdom in salvation.

“What I ask you to understand, my subjects, is simple. There is no stopping this; stopping me. Those who choose to defy me do so at their own peril. Those who seek out the dissenters; who bring them to me so that we may be swift in our justice, will be rewarded.

“And to the ones who bring me the ashes of traitors Kamilah Sayeed, Adrian Raines, Jax Matsuo, and their ilk… their reward will be as boundless as my gratitude.”

When they reach the airstrip Nadya braces herself against the biting wind as she and the others exit the van. There’s a storm on the tip of her tongue; she silently prays they’re leaving it behind. Adrian’s plane is already preparing for takeoff; the engine roars in her ears so loud she struggles to hear even her own thoughts.

She buries herself against Kamilah’s side out of habit — knowing there won’t be any warmth to be found but right now safety is the next best thing. And arguments aside, Nadya knows she will always be safe with Kamilah.

The woman’s arm comes around her shoulders and squeezes — tighter than she’d like. But when she looks up to mention it Kamilah’s focus isn’t with the rest of them at the base of the plane’s metal steps, but far out around them.

“We aren’t alone.”

As if on cue the first flash of lightning streaks across the night sky. Too bright, too close; illuminating the dark tarmac so Nadya’s poor human eyes can watch the fleet of black vans barreling towards them at a dangerous speed.

Adrian curses loudly. “We need to board, now!”

Jax reaches for his katana with a growl. “Yeah… about that.”

They risk a lot looking away from the incoming vehicles — and for good reason. The yellowing glow of the plane interior now eclipsed by a shadow standing at the top of the steps. But before Nadya can try to see through the darkness obscuring their face the shadow speaks with an all-too-familiar distaste.

“How boring!” sneers Priya, “You could’ve at least made it a teensy bit harder to figure out what you were planning, Adrian. It’s like you wanted to get caught or something!”

She descends with the same flippant arrogance she does everything else; a sway in her hips and as Nadya’s eyes adjust to the lack of light she can see the vicious glint of pride in Priya’s ruby eyes.

By the time she reaches the bottom step that’s their window of opportunity gone. The cars spread out around them in a wide arc; brakes barely squealing rubber against asphalt before the doors slide aside and actual, literal goons cluster out in groups of twos and threes.

One walks around the van closest to Nadya and opens the passenger door. The way the Baron hops down would be funny if it didn’t hammer home the fact that they had made it all this way only to end up trapped.

He puffs on his cigar with a smarmy grin. No longer the purpling creature of fear he had been in the Chamber. “I ain’t complainin’ about easy targets. Just think of how pleased Our King will be that we didn’t have to drag this shit out.”

Adrian and Kamilah flank either end of their small group, face to face with their former Council members. Somehow Nadya finds herself sequestered in the middle with Lily, Maricruz, and Cadence. Jax’s blade catches on light from the plane window dangerously.

Kamilah snarls and the sight makes the Baron’s men take a step back — rightfully afraid. “I’m surprised you stopped yourself from licking Gaius’ boots long enough to make it here, Cecil.”

“Just because you were coward enough to throw away your allegiance doesn’t mean I was about to.”

“No,” her upper lip curls, “you were just coward enough to grovel; to turn your back on your people.”

He spreads his arms (not so very) wide. “From where I’m standin’ my people ain’t so bad off!”

Priya rolls her eyes; throws her ponytail tousled from the breeze over her shoulder flippantly. “Jesus Christ — will you stop being such a villain cliché?!” She can look as outraged as she wants when Adrian laughs at her — she doesn’t make a move to shut him up and that’s a telling thing.

“You’re one to talk.”

“Oh save the altruistic bullshit for someone who cares. Choosing between dying like the rest of you worms, or offering up a few fat tears and some dumb apologies for the chance to both live and be a princess? It wasn’t exactly a toughie.”

Adrian hesitates, then eases himself out of his defensive stance. “You really think he’ll forgive you,” Priya almost looks maniacal with glee until he uses it as an opportunity to look down on her — both in the literal and metaphorical senses — then her hatred can’t burn bright enough, “both of you? Or are you so desperate for power that you’re content to be blind to the truth?”

“And what truth would that be, exactly?”

“That Gaius isn’t a forgiving man.”

“He’s not a man at all!” The Baron barks. “He’s a King, hell — he’s a God! And unlike you damn fools I don’t got any plans on ending up like Castellanos any time soon.”

Even through her rage Kamilah keeps her voice level.

“Perhaps not soon… but you will eventually. If he would not forgive his Queen—” she throws a look at her back to Priya, “—then what chance is there for you?”

“Or maybe bitter old hag is just out of season.”

“His patience will outlive your greed. You’ll see for yourself when the time comes.”

Lower lip jutted out in a glossy pout, Priya’s sigh is as heavy as it is sarcastic. “Maybe…” she laments; before her features twist into a feline grin, “but you won’t.”

She lunges. Too fast for Nadya to see but not fast enough — not for someone with a century on her like Adrian does. He restrains her outstretched claws with both hands and for a moment it seems almost too easy — laughably so.

Only Priya’s the one laughing. She shouldn’t be the one laughing.

“Oh poor baby,” she croons with a razor-sharp tongue, “you don’t look so good!”

The awful part is that she’s right. Kamilah had told Adrian not to strain himself by giving Nadya his blood and for good reason — but it wasn’t enough. He should be able to hold someone like Priya back with one arm tied behind his back but already he’s straining against her. Giving in little by little.

“Adrian!” But what the Baron’s men don’t have on Kamilah in age they do in numbers — two hulking men each grabbing her arms to hold her back.

The Baron spits out the butt of his cigar. “Stake ‘em all, and sweep up the ashes! His Majesty wants proof and he’ll get it.”

Beady red eyes hone in on Nadya in the middle of her friends. “Leave the little human to me.”

Then all hell breaks loose.

Jax is a red leather blur. He thrusts the tip of his sword — an unnatural movement outside of his skill set but it works — it forces Priya back and away from Adrian. It takes Kamilah less than a moment to regain her balance; the woman plants herself on steady ground and hurls her attackers in opposite directions.

The bang of engine backfire makes Nadya flinch violently. She opens her eyes just in time to watch as Arnold, leaning halfway out of his open window, guns it in reverse and mows over three of their attackers before they can even blink.

Jax plants himself in front of a stumbling Adrian as defense, ready for a second go. Priya advances the smallest step but stops; she looks down to the sight of red seeping through the fabric at her waist. The wound heals in no time — but her dress isn’t so lucky.

“This is couture you sewer-stained dickbag!” She howls, then too quickly her despair turns into vengeance turns into her lunging in for his throat and the kill.

The bulk of the Baron’s men advance towards Kamilah but their hesitancy is impossible to miss. Wary eyes catching sight of one another around her and wonder, probably for the first time in their miserable henchmen-lives, whether or not they’ve chosen the side that will keep them alive.

Even if one of them might consider changing their minds, though, they don’t have the blessing of second chances. Kamilah gives a sharp whip of her arms outward and a pair of very long, very sharp-looking daggers slide out from the sleeves of her suit jacket.

“The fuck’re you standin’ around for,” their boss barks gruffly; and he’s mistaken if he thinks anyone misses the tiniest break in his voice, “get on with it or I’ll kill ya myself!”

In a blur of black suits and white fangs they descend. They seal their own fates. Far more graceful than humans ever could hope to be but Kamilah makes them look like they’re fighting her with cinderblocks for limbs. She parries every fist and foot. Twists the blades in her hands like liquid — but liquid can’t slice a man’s head off.

Kamilah can.

Kamilah does.

There’s no doubt in Nadya’s mind how this is going to end but hell if she’s leaving the woman now. Even when she feels Lily and Cadence trying to pull her away. When she hears Maricruz’s voice thick with uncertainty demanding of her “we need to get to the plane — don’t waste the opening they’re giving us.” She stands rooted to the spot like Kamilah’s very life depends on her watchful eye.

Turns out — it does.

“Kamilahbehindyou!” But her cry is rapid and choked and more of a scream than a warning and Nadya knows she’s not fast enough to run at the fallen thug trying to steady the grip on his stake in shaking hands blinking through blood and ashes sticky in his eyes but that doesn’t mean she won’t try—

She tells herself not to think about where it would have pierced. Knows in her rational mind that Kamilah’s older, faster, stronger and she would have found a way to evade the sharp wooden spike anyway but thank god she doesn’t have to take that risk; that chance.

Cadence’s extended fangs tear through his bottom lip; teeth clenched tight with the effort it takes to pry the stake trying to make a cozy home just underneath his ribs.

He pries it free with a mangled, painful noise. Presses his free palm uselessly over the still-gaping wound and quickly returns the wooden weapon to its owner in a cloud of ash.

Nadya claps her hands over her mouth. She can taste the salt of her tears on the seam of her closed lips. This time when Lily starts pulling her back she’s simply too weak to resist.

One more dead only changes the odds. They still keep coming, several more now with stakes of their own, so Kamilah has no time to thank him just as Cadence has no time to demand it of her.

It’s the least she could do, Nadya thinks.

That’s when she notices the red-faced Baron; much closer than before and with a premature greed curled on his greasy upper lip.

But he was too cautious; too cowardly. Took his sweet time and missed his chance and really Nadya shouldn’t be thinking about the things that could have been done to kidnap her better — it doesn’t stop her. Nor does it stop Kamilah. She slices the last goon’s head off clean, takes one look around, and places herself firmly between the Baron and his failed prize. She’s an imposing sight, even from where Nadya can only see the set of the woman’s shoulders, that makes the mobster take a step back.

His attempted recovery is feeble at best.

“Maybe His Highness isn’t as unreasonable as you think! You’d be a fool not to consider what he can offer!”

Kamilah twirls one of her blades dripping with blood. “The only fool here is you. With nothing to offer that he cannot take by force — Gaius knows this, and worse still knows you are blind to it.”

“After all Kamilah — he always favored you best!” Yet he keeps trying even if it’s in vain; a coward’s act. He steps back — she steps forward; a dance that grows deadlier every time the frightened man opens his mouth. “Surely out of all of us he would forgive you. Hell—he’d welcome you back at his side! The Bloodqueen back on her throne!”

“Difficult though the concept may be to the likes of you, Cecil, my loyalties are not so easily bought.”

“So you’d back a losing team?! Give up two thousand years of reign for—for what —” jabbing an angry swollen finger behind her to Nadya, “— a filthy human?! And one’a the uglier ones at that!”

“Who you callin’ ugly, Ugly?!” Lily jeers unrepentant. And honestly… is she wrong?

Kamilah turns her head in profile; the curtain of her hair keeping her expression just out of Nadya’s sight. But she doesn’t need to see the woman’s eyes to know who they’re resting on. She’s sure for Kamilah it’s quite the same.

“I would rather know love freely tonight and die tomorrow than spend another thousand years searching in vain.”

Searching for her.

It’s the kind of not-quite confession that ends with a passionate kiss and a happily ever after. Even still it’s enough to catch Nadya’s breath right in the middle of her throat. To make her feel like she’s never been so happy to find herself unable to breathe.

So why does it feel like a goodbye?

A sense of unease raises the hairs on the back of her neck. Nadya tears her eyes away for just a moment — just long enough to see Jax and Adrian come up at their backs. She and Adrian lock eyes and she watches the four deep gashes in his cheek struggle to knit themselves closed. He needs to feed soon; she doesn’t want to think about what might happen if he doesn’t.

All they have to do is make it to the plane…

But Jax still keeps his blade gripped tight and at the ready. Priya isn’t done for yet. In fact like this, with her perfect hair in disarray and the tattered parts of he dress exposing fresh, newly-healed skin, she’s almost the exact opposite. Nadya had thought she was the youngest member on the Council before Jax, but now she’s not so sure. How else could the woman have held her own against the pair of them and only look eager for more?

Priya and the Baron have always been her least favorite people in the world but there’s no denying that right now, even as Kamilah holds her ground, the predatory way the pair encircle them is dangerous.

Dangerous because it happened in the first place. Dangerous because if they can barely stand against these two, what hopes do they have of standing up to the Trinity together, or Gaius on his own?

Priya flips the mess of her hair out of her eyes in annoyance. “This isn’t nearly as fun as I thought it’d be.”

“Sorry to burst your bubble.” Jax scoffs in reply. But his voice is strained; weaker. He’s been pulling the brunt of the weight in their fight with Priya and it’s taking its toll.

Suddenly the Baron is illuminated from behind, casting a shadow stretching outward probably as tall as the man wishes he really was. One of the men in his vans flashes the brights three times quickly. Some sort of signal that they need to speed things up.

And not that Nadya of all people has a right to judge Jax for inappropriate reactions to terrifying situations, but the little laugh she hears behind her is kind of definitely uncalled for.

The engine revs.

Lily laces their fingers together in a knot; risks a lot to do nothing but make things even more confusing when she whispers right at the edge of human hearing. “Hold on tight Nadi’, okay?”

��What?”

“Just do it.”

The Baron’s shadow stretches longer and longer. Eclipsing what Nadya squints to see until the man himself is nothing but a black dot on a white canvas.

Oh.

“Playtime’s over.” He turns a stake, liberated from one of his fallen no doubt, in his wide grasp.

Priya more than agrees. “Enough of this shit; we’re wasting moonlight and I for one don’t plan on mis—”

By the time the former Council vampires realize what’s happening it is most definitely too late.

“NOW!”

Jax’s voice bellows around her skull all the way down to when it hits the pavement. It hurts — holy crap it hurts — but not as much as it must hurt to be Priya and the Baron right now. Even vampires must have a hard time recovering from being plowed into by four thousand pounds of metal.

The driver slams on the brakes and the vehicle halts with an ear-splitting screech. She’d cover them and save herself the grief but Lily’s still trying to make a finger-woven basket and honestly vampire-speed always leaves Nadya reeling anyway. Probably for the best that she doesn’t try to get up on her own.

When everyone is standing — more or less intact — they look to see the driver side window ease down with the smooth glide of automatic buttons. Arnold leans his head out and while at first Nadya will admit she found the man a little frosty, right now she could give him the biggest kiss in the world.

“Upgraded, huh?” calls out Maricruz with a tiny measure of amusement. He pats the sleek side and jerks a thumb into the dark, no doubt where the lumps she might possibly not be seeing start to stir.

“You ain’t got a lot of time. Get!”

Admittedly he has a point. Though being reminded of it brings the sense of urgency back down on them like… well like a four thousand-pound van.

They don’t waste any more time and make a run for it. They can recover on the flight; Nadya knows where to find the blood bags at the back of the jet and hey—positive note—no one had an emotional breakdown. So Nadya, fool that she is, takes the metal stairs two at a time and dares to think they’ve survived this intact.

Until she looks behind her and Kamilah isn’t one step behind. A tension eases out of the woman’s shoulders long and slow. Something like relief.

“Adrian.”

He stops in the rounded doorway to look back The moment he sees her he knows something Nadya doesn’t about that movement. Something familiar only to the hundreds of years before she ever knew them.

“Keep her safe.”

Adrian nods. When he reaches out and takes Nadya’s wrist in his hand the grip is a little too tight and a little too telling.  And if either one of them think she’s going to let it happen — that she’ll just stand by and let Kamilah choose to stay behind in some terribly noble deed — then they don’t know Nadya at all.

“We’re not leaving you behind.” It isn’t the conviction with which she says it that catches her off guard, but that Nadya couldn’t see any other version of reality in which she says differently.

It’s more a sigh of resignation than a reply; “Someone has to stay behind.”

“Bull.”

“Someone has to be there for the ones who would not join Gaius so easily. And someone must give the ones unable to choose a reason to fight.”

“And that someone has to be you?” Not that Nadya doesn’t disagree; someone should. Someone else — someone not Kamilah.

Caught in the middle of the stairs and of all this, Maricruz and Jax exchange uncomfortable glances.

But she’s adamant. “I know Gaius better than anyone, and in this case it may just be an advantage. I can predict his actions and mitigate the damage. We cannot simply flee the continent, abandon the city and those under our care, and expect them to remain blindly loyal to us upon our return. That’s the kind of thing he would do.” The look she gives Nadya is endearing — Nadya hates her for it.

“I would not leave Gerard here unprotected. Or any of the humans under our care.”

Stop making sense, stop being so noble. “There’s got to be another way.”

“I think we both know that’s not the case here.” She goes to reach out her hand but hesitates at the sight of smeared blood. Nadya couldn’t care less about that — she gently pushes her way passed the others and back below; back to her. And takes her hand bloodstains and all.

“I refuse to tuck tail and run; to let that monster undo a century’s worth of progress. I refuse to let him take the city from me. And I refuse to let him take this from me, too.”

This, she says, and Nadya understands so well. Not that it stops the hurt.

“But what if he takes you from me?”

Kamilah pulls her close and without hesitation. A telling thing — and not in a good way. Nadya takes the moments left; soaks them up all she can like a sad pink sponge of tears and memories. She has to learn how to control these stupid powers now. Because she needs to relive this moment as many times as she can.

Lips rest cool on Nadya’s forehead; help calm a heated bubble of anxiety rising way too fast in her chest. Kamilah’s kiss may not stop it — but she keeps it at bay so this—them—isn’t wasted time.

“I’m right here,” the vampire breathes into Nadya’s skin, and its almost enough to have her come undone, “remember that, Nadya. I’m right here. I’ve got you.”

But you won’t. You’ll be an ocean away where I can’t keep you safe.

Let me keep you safe for now. You can return the favor later.

Though unspoken, that later is a promise both of them know.

“Goddammit.”

Maricruz takes one step back down. Keeps her back turned just long enough to hide the way her lower lip wobbles when Lily calls behind her in a soft whisper; “You’re going the wrong way.”

Rather than respond, she backhands Jax in the chest familiar, habitual; affectionate. “You take care of my girl Matsuo.”

“If anyone should stay it’s me. They’re my people.”

“Yeah well,” Maricruz spins dangerously on the heel of her boot; grabs both rails to keep herself from falling or (more likely) running back up to take Lily into her arms and change her mind, “lucky for my dumb ass we’ve got a ticking clock and can’t fight for the honor. But I’ll skip the middle and tell you how it ends. I’m the one staying.”

“In what world would you beat me?”

“In the world of pain you’re looking at right now.” And she has a point — much to Jax’s chagrin. “In the world where you’re gonna come back fighting fit and finally give me some damn praise for keeping everyone together. They need one of us to lead ‘em… It’s about time I stepped up.”

The Leader of the (former) Clanless bites his tongue rather than answer. Looks away with his messed hair to cover his eyes but he’s accepted it. Not easily, and not without a great personal conflict judging by the way his shoulders shake and the metal railing starts caving in under his grasp.

But Jax has always done what’s best for his people. And right now it’s her.

When Maricruz does go forward it’s barely but a step. She and Lily meet in the middle — tender touches to ash-stained cheeks and kisses as deep and longing as they are sweet and loving.

The older vampire pulls away first; she has her own memories to commit.

“I know you wouldn’t leave Nadya’s side,” and because she knows Lily all too well she already has a finger against her lips before she can protest, “and I couldn’t ask you to. Te amo mi lirio.”

Fat tears threaten to ruin hours of work on her eyeliner but Lily couldn’t care less. “If you love me so much let me stay,” her eyes flicker over Maricruz’s shoulder to Nadya, and there’s no way she would hold it against her if Lily chose to stay — not with kisses like those, “let me help you. They’re my family, too.”

“Would if I could, baby.”

“You can.”

“And have the chick who’s supposed to save our asses die because she tripped over a shoelace without you to help her?” Maricruz looks over her shoulder with a grin, not apologizing in the least. Honestly Nadya can see her point. “No way. You go save the girl saving the world. And when you come home we can tick ‘reunion sex’ off your list.”

If she could Lily would be flushed beet red. “That’s not on my list.”

“Don’t lie to me. I’ve seen it.”

They laugh. They kiss again. Nadya feels a familiar thumb stroking her knuckles but they’ve officially worn themselves to the bone on time.

Off in the direction Arnold had let the business end of his new van throw Priya and the Baron, groaning comes faintly. Like a signal.

Nadya doesn’t let Maricruz pass her without a hug. “I’ll keep her safe,” she whispers against that neon blue, and pulls back to a much more somber woman than she went in with.

“I’ll do the same. Deal?”

“Deal.”

Adrian, still in the threshold, looks down at Kamilah with his own kind of distress.

“Please be careful.”

“I should be saying that to you.” She calls back — but the affection isn’t lost on either of them.

He tries — and fails — to hide the pained look in his eye. “Kamilah…”

Because he may not have all of her years or some of her ideals, but they have always had Gaius in common. And that isn’t something to take lightly.

No one ever accused Kamilah Sayeed of ever taking anything lightly. She holds her chin just a little bit higher.

“I know. Give Serafine my affections.”

It’s enough to make him smile even through the pain of Priya’s wounds. Adrian nods, and Jax moves to help him inside before he collapses where he stands.

The last one left is Cadence; the towering figure lurking on the edges of their little family. He looks between the jet and the van with a furrowed brow and Nadya owes him so much for saving Kamilah’s life back there but she sees the conflict in his eyes and knows it well.

“Go.”

They lock eyes. It’s a permission he didn’t know he needed. “I want to stay, but I —”

“No ‘buts’ about it. You have your own family to save.”

Thank you, he says in a silent nod of his head.

Nadya is left more than a little confused when he offers Maricruz a hand to shake. She takes it gruff and formal, muttering something to him that Nadya’s human ears don’t quite catch. For a moment it seems he might try something similar with Kamilah, but thinks better of it and takes off into the darkness.

Nadya and Lily link their arms. Holding on and holding up.

At least they don’t have to do this alone.

[imyourliquor-youremypoison]

A Girl’s Best Friend (Peter Parker x OC) - Part 2

Synopsis: Diamonds are man’s best friend- or dogs are girls’ best friends, wait… how does the saying go again?

Warnings: Family issues; Peter has a crush and it’s complicated; mention of assault; good dogs; College AU; aged up! characters; TONY STARK IS ALIVE AND WE ALL LIVE IN A HAPPY PLACE CALLED DENIAL

A/N: In this story, Peter has Tom’s dog, Tessa.

Word count: 2.5k

Part 1<<< >>> Part 3

MASTERLIST

                Peter didn’t know how to feel about having been yelled at by the daughter of the mayor, but he had an inkling it wasn’t good. There was a point in his life where he had hoped that one day he might receive the keys to the city – he just really wanted to know if they opened anything or if they were merely symbolic (it would be greatly disappointing).

That dream had gone down the drain this morning, though.

No wait, he was getting mixed up again. She had bumped into and yelled at Peter Parker. Peter Parker would never stand in front of the mayor and the whole city to be gifted the keys of New York City. If such a thing ever happened, it would be Spider-Man standing on the stage outside the Townhall. And Emmeline Gerard had never met Spider-Man – which was mostly due to the fact she did not live anywhere near Queens.

A week later, he was ashamed to say that he did know where she lived. He was even more ashamed to admit that he followed her home one night during his Spider-Man shift. It wasn’t premeditated at all, she just came out of what he could only assume to be a late-night study session, the light at the library’s door hitting her face and giving it a golden shine.

Since moving to Manhattan, Peter had changed his habits quite a bit, but he tried to center his action on Queens. Nobody needed to know that Spider-Man lived in a college dorm now. Ned and Peter had gotten accepted in Columbia with full-ride scholarships – that Peter highly suspected were curtesy of Tony Stark – and even got lucky enough to get individual rooms. How oddly convenient for someone with a double identity, ugh.

The way to Queens was a short one when Peter swung from building to building, but he didn’t see why he couldn’t keep an eye open from here to there, just in case someone needed his help. He saw her coming out of the library when he was about to sneak out of his window, and he didn’t know what possessed him, but the next thing he knew, he was on the roof of her building, overlooking central park.

“Fancy,” Peter said with a whistle, admiring the tall, modern building.

                So this is where well-off kids live, he thought. While it did look flashy and awesome from the outside, something still tugged at his heart, and his mind jumped to the homey feeling of aunt May’s little apartment in Queens. He wasn’t sure he would trade that cozy atmosphere for anything in the world. This building reminded him of Stark Tower.

                He had once asked Tony what floor he lived on, and he had paused and gauged the kid.

“I don’t live here, Spandex.” He rolled his eyes. “This is my workplace. I have a house you know? Several, actually. I’ll invite you next time Pepper and I host a barbecue.”

                That was it. This place looked like a workplace. Maybe the headquarters of a fancy magazine like Vogue or Vanity Fair, where fashion icons walked in and out of all the time, but no one ever stayed the night. All windows, no ugly concrete walls. Shiny in the afternoon sun, brand spanking new.

                In a sense, it fit her, he mused. A lonely princess living in a fancy glass tower.

                Without wasting any more time thinking silly thoughts, Peter continued his way back home.

  *

                  No more milk. All of this happened because there was no more milk.

“I swear to the fucking gods, I’m sure I still had an extra bottle!” Emmeline said before slamming the refrigerator door shut.

                She needed to work on her language, she was growing more vulgar every day.

                It was half past ten, most stores were closed apart from the small hole-in-the-wall convenience stores – which couldn’t be found that easily when you lived in the Upper East Side. She whistled and Bella came trotting into the kitchen, looking at her with expectant eyes.

“We’re going shopping,” she said, and Bella knew what it meant. She ran to the front door, barely holding in place even though she had had her walk only a few hours ago.

                Emmeline mechanically slipped on her dog walk shoes, very worn out sneakers, her jacket, and clipped on Bella’s leash. Her dog practically dragged her out and into the elevator before she could even lock her door.

                As much as she complained about it, she never minded going for a late-night walk – even if she couldn’t really relax while walking New York at night. You just never knew what creep roamed the streets.

                The blue neon light blinking in the night appeared around a corner, and she hope to God they had her oat milk. A girl needed her oat milk.  She walked in there confidently, thinking she could will the store to have what she was looking for. The owner sent her a sharp look when he saw her strut in with a beast of a dog behind her.

                Bella was the sweetest thing, but she did look intimidating, which was the whole point.

“Let’s see…” She scanned the refrigerated shelves at the back of the store, looking for plant-based milk when suddenly, her shopping was interrupted in the rudest fashion.

                A man catcalled her.

                The whistle made her ears ring and she froze, ready to ward off whoever thought this was an appropriate setting to chat up a girl. Or worse still: whoever thought catcalling was okay in any form or shape.

“That’s a big dog for a small girl,” the man said, already approaching.

                Emmeline refused to turn her head to look at him, but she glanced from the corner of her eye to see who she was dealing with. He was in his late twenties – probably – and looked like the kind of person you didn’t want to hang out with unless you were looking for trouble.

“That’s a big mouth you have for such a small dick,” she scoffed. Bingo! Oat milk. She opened the glass door to get her bottle.

“What did you just say?” The man took a step closer, visibly trying to make himself look taller by puffing out his chest and raising his chin.

                Emmeline was not tall, but she stood her ground, not letting herself intimidated by this dude. She couldn’t let him see she was scared. Bella barked suddenly, making him jump back, out of surprise.

“Let me through,” she asked rather politely - she was proud of herself. “And a piece of advice: don’t hit on girls doing their groceries, it’s rude. We don’t want to talk to you, alright? We just want our fucking oat milk.”

                So much for not cursing anymore. Life just couldn’t give her a break these days, nothing had gone smoothly since the blood donation last week. Maybe it was the universe making her pay for being rude to that boy who hadn’t even done anything wrong.

“You fucking-“

                He tried to step closer again, but Bella barked louder this time. At night, Emmeline didn’t walk Bella with her muzzle on, she’d rather pay the fee than take the risk. Her dog growled until the shop owner came to see what was going on. He made it clear to the young woman that he would not allow her dog in anymore.

                The rebuffed man stomped out, and Bella paid for the milk, then left the store. She did not expect to be yanked into an alley as soon as she stepped on the sidewalk.

“You think you can talk to me like that?!” The stranger pushed her backwards, her back hitting the wall sharply and knocking the air out of her lungs.

                Bella barked as a warning again, growling at the man’s feet. She was already biting the hem of his pants when he put his hands on Emmeline again, popping the buttons of her blouse in one swift pull. They all scattered on the pavement.

“Help! Hel-“ He slammed his hand flat on her mouth to stop her from alerting the shop owner.

                Bella growled once more and lurched at her master’s attacker, going for the leg. When her sharp teeth sunk into his flesh, he yelped in pain, his scream way louder than any call for help Emmeline might have shouted.

                Her eyes went wide with fear and her tough demeanor was gone within a split second. Not again, not again… The pitiful yelp she heard made her heart sink. Not Bella… He kicked the dog again, making it cower a bit but not give up on defending her mistress. She began to bark like crazy, hopefully attracting someone’s attention.

                Emmeline tried to push her attacker off her, struggling to wiggle out of his grip but he was pressing his body onto her to keep her trapped between him and the wall.

“Stay still you little vegan bitch! I’ll show you some meat!” she hissed against Emmeline’s ear, making her skin crawl.

                Tears began to sting at her eyes, and she couldn’t breathe probably with this man’s hand still covering her mouth while he reached into his pants with the other. There wasn’t much doubt in her mind what he was going to do to her, which only sent her into hysterics. She closed her eyes, praying for help, hearing nothing but Bella’s barks and growls as she once again bit the man’s leg, momentarily making him let go of Emmeline. She took the occasion to scream her lungs out, when suddenly, he was gone.

                Bella stopped barking and walked to Emmeline, who slowly collapsed on the ground, stunned into silence. There wasn’t anyone with her in the alley anymore, she was alone with Bella. She nudged her gently with her nose, whining and licking her arm.

“Are you alright?” Another voice that she had never heard before broke her out of her reverie.

                Emmeline startled but didn’t stand up when another figure stood before her, entirely dressed in blue and red. Her jaw hung open and she couldn’t do anything but stare at him. It was Spider-Man, that much she could tell, although she never thought she would see him one day, not in the flesh.

“You’re Spider-Man,” she stated the obvious, just to be sure.

“Oh good, you’re not in shock or anything,” he said, sounding relieved – it was hard to tell with the mask. “This really isn’t my scene, I never know what to do when people stare blankly at me and start shaking and crying – not that it’s not a natural reaction-“ he began to ramble.

                Emmeline scrambled to her feet, Bella standing between her and the superhero, on her guard more than ever now.

“Oh sorry, let me help you-“ Spider-Man reached out for her hand to help her up but instead Emmeline bent over to gently pat her dog’s head in order to calm her down.

“Thank you for saving me,” she told him, not looking away from her dog.

Her heart was still pounding and watching Bella’s soulful eyes eased her nerves. That asshole had picked her in the face! She cradled Bella’s face.

“Do you need help getting up or-“

“No,” Emmeline snapped. “No,” she repeated slowly, in a softer voice and with a sheepish look. “Bella is trained to protect me from strangers, you can’t touch me unless I initiate the contact and she knows you’re not a threat.”

“A fellow defender of the innocent then,” Spider-Man teased, looking at her dog with a kind of amusement mixed with some admiration. “I’m sure she did her best tonight.”

“She’s still a little young,” Emmeline admitted, never stopping to pat her dog’s head. In truth, she was starting to feel that backlash Spider-Man spoke of, and her eyes soon began to prickle. She didn’t want to cry, he literally just admitted that he didn’t like when people starting crying on him. If she focused on Bella, she would be fine. “But she did her very best,” she continued, having swallowed down the tears. “That jerk even kicked her, but she did her best.”

                She still hadn’t initiated contact, as she put it, and Peter irked to reach out and make sure she was fine, because she didn’t look fine to him. She looked like she was about to burst in tears. Her blouse still hung open and her eyes looked glossy.

                Bella whined again, leaning into her mistress’ touch.

“She looks like a sweet dog,” he observed. Whatever he said, she did not look away from Bella and he thought maybe that was how she dealt with being assaulted. Looking at something familiar and comforting could be very helpful.

“Yes,” she finally said before standing up, having collected herself. “She’s the sweetest.”

“Maybe too sweet to take walks at night?” he asked carefully, not wanting to upset the girl further.

She hiccupped.

“Maybe, yeah… I just- I was out of milk,” she confessed, feeling the blush rise to her cheeks.

“… out of milk?” Peter asked. That was when he spotted the bottle that had rolled on the ground. He picked it up. “Oh, so that’s where the ‘vegan bitch’ thing came from!” he exclaimed, as if he just had an illumination. “I didn’t get it at first.”

“Yeah, apparently it’s an insult now.” Emmeline laughed a bit. They say even faking a laugh could trick the body into producing dopamine. “I’m not even vegan, I’m just lactose intolerant.”

                She paused and pressed her eyes shut. Gosh darn, why would she tell Spider-Man that she was lactose intolerant? This entire evening was chaotic at best, but it took a sharp turn for the ridiculous just then.

“Not that it’s relevant in any way.” She held her hand open and Peter gave him the bottle, watching Bella twitch nervously but stay sat at Emmeline’s feet. “Sorry, I’m just a little shaken up.”

“No, no, don’t apologize, it’s not your fault. Usually I’d offer to bring you home, but I can’t take Bella swinging in the air.” He scratched the back of his neck in a mechanical gesture, although he couldn’t feel a thing through the material. It was made to stop bullets after all.

“That’s fine, you already did more than enough for me.”

“Still, I want to make sure you get home safely. I’ll follow you at a distance in case anything happens.”

                Emmeline didn’t really know what to say, the words were stuck at the back of her throat, creating a knot. Having Bella by her side was a great comfort already but knowing that Spider-Man watched over her brought her immeasurable relief.

“Thank you,” she managed to croak out.

“You can walk home in peace now.”

                She picked up Bella’s leash and tightened her grip on it, ready to walk out of the shadows but suddenly, she lurched at Spider-Man, hugging him because nothing she could say would properly convey the way she felt right now. He had saved her.

                Bella woofed as a warning but didn’t seem to be ready to jump at Peter’s throat, which he was glad for because he really didn’t want this particular dog to not like him.

                The hug didn’t last long and soon Emmeline pulled away, an embarrassed smile on her face.

“Thank you again,” she muttered before going on her way.

                Bella lingered a bit in front of Peter, gauging him. Peter crouched down and gave her a quick pat on the head.

“Take good care of her, will you?”

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