#these feelings are compounded on by the fact ive been feeling awkward about how i move through the world lately so im probably more

[wurmwizzard]

I went to a little pottery festival in a small town close to mine this morning, and I obviously understand I'm a visually alt/queer looking person living in the deep south. Yes. I get that. But the whole time I felt like a horrible fart everyone was desperately trying to pretend they didn't smell. I had a lovely conversation with a Spanish lady I bought a mug from, but many of the vendors desperately avoided my eye contact, and a few flat out ignored me. Which is baffling, do you even want my money?? my scary gay money?

[four-bastard-bustle]

You know I've always wondered how your interpretation of Matt would've reacted to being punched in the face by Tord in the end part one. Like, he seems the kind of guy who would either go whimper and hide behind Edd like a puppy or would punch back.

Ok so like see this is where you unleashed the floodgates because ive thought abt this scene for ages because its such a peak example of ew(legacy) failing the serious/emotional moments. Making this piece of violence work in a sea of violence is no small undertaking, but I think what it really comes down to is the difference in context between the guys slapping each other around for shits n giggles with no real malice, and the outright fury expressed by Tord in that scene in the episode. If that had been emphasised more, it couldve been peak I think.

This is kind of a lot so its going under the cut

But like, my version of Matt specifically. I mentioned in a couple posts that he was abused pretty heavily as a kid and was occasionally even hit by his father. So having someone suddenly express clear fury over him for doing whatever he was doing and punch him brings back a massive flood of terrible memories. Usually, when one of the other guys hits him, Matt starts whining and complaining. He’s the type to talk and yell a lot when he gets mad. But the sudden fear he feels makes him completely clam up. This is further compounded by the fact that Tord (and by extension Red Leader) goes nonverbal when furious.

Matt lies there on the cold floor. In his mind he sees all the times his father has held him down and “lectured” him for “inappropriate behaviour”. Sometimes he’d even hold his son down by the neck and start squeezing. Strong hands grab his collar and he can feel the air being choked out of him. Matt is surprised that he’s being liften up instead of pushed down for once.

His mind reeling, he can’t tell if the face staring at him in a blind fury is his father’s or “Tord”’s. They’re blending together. They look so terrifyingly similar.

The monster raises its fist but something stops it. A hand clad in green is holding the monster back. There’s talking. Matt wishes he could hear any words. Everything is just ringing for him.

Edd for his part is very much overwhelmed with this situation. As much as he cares for his friends, he is TERRIBLE with conflict resolution. So far, he’s been lucky enough to never need it, but also so far any scraps the boys have gotten into were just petty arguments. This is very different.

Edd starts by just telling “Tord” to let Matt go, at which his grip tightens. He really doesn’t want to add to this by getting physical too, so he just repeats the command, but a little more gently. The fist Edd is holding back shakes a little, but finally “Tord” lets Matt go.

The sound of heavy breathing is filling the room, and no one is able to look one another in the eyes. But after a bit, Red Leader finally collects himself enough to express one clear command.

“Get out of my room.”

Matt doesn’t need to be told twice, and though he’s on shaky legs, he hurries out. Edd gives Tord one more glance before leaving as well. But not without first telling Tord that the two of them are going to talk about this later, when he’s calmed down.

After that, he brings an ice pack to Matt’s attic. The cold helps with the swelling and with Matt’s ongoing panic attack.

But really, Edd is feeling just about every negative emotion right now. He hates how he froze up in shock for a second when Matt got punched instead of immediately helping him up. He wonders why the hell “Tord” felt this protective over a stupid ass button. He hates seeing one of his friends lose himself in a fury this way. He hates seeing another one of his friends have a full on panic attack. He hates that this is kind of the best he can do right now. And he wonders, just what the hell is going on with “Tord” and his secret room.

I want the scene to be so deeply painfully awkward. I want there to be no way Red could laugh it off, or change the topic. I want the three of them to stew in negative emotions like its an awful soup.

Also, the ice cream line. Part of me gets so pissed off by it because Matt literally said he hated ice cream in H&F. But also, as a scene where like, Matt gets too scared to mention that so he just meekly agrees. That’s really good. And I think(?) that’s what the scene was actually intended to be? But they should’ve expressed this better, maybe have a bit in the store where Matt mumbles to himself “But I hate ice cream” as he puts it in the shopping cart. That would definitely be a part of it all in my version of it.

And most importantly no “who’s my brave little soldier” because fuck that line. Infantalize my man like that again and I’ll smite thee.

Uh I mentioned doing my own hc au version of th* *nd and not making it as melodramatic, so I don’t think this would happen in my version of the entire episode. But this is just my version of the Scene. Very different things

[darthkruge]

Anakin Skywalker x Reader ~ Help

Summary: The five times the Senator!Reader needs Anakin’s help but refuses to ask for it and the one time they do

Warnings: Language, reader is afraid of vulnerability, reader is going through it, angst, violence, fluff (it ends on a positive note, I promise)

Words: 4k

A/N: This idea has kinda been bouncing around my head for a hot minute and I finally decided to just go ahead and write it. And somehow it became the longest fic I’ve ever written! Is this self-indulgent? Who’s to say?!

(not my gif)

I.

Okay, so a right, then a left, then another left, then-

You groaned. You’d been going over the cryptic instructions Padme gave you back at the temple but they were, unfortunately, not helping. It was your first time alone in Coruscant and you were completely lost in the painfully literal sense. You had just been given your first actual mission with the Council as a senator, something you’d worked your entire career for. As an added bonus, you were on the same planet as your boyfriend, Anakin Skywalker. 

You’d gotten close over the last year and were elated when he asked you on a date the last time you were in the same place. This was the first time you were together in the two weeks it had been since then. 

Anyway, you were currently wandering around the bustling Coruscant streets, looking for the market. Well, you were looking for the market. Now, you realized you would probably never find it and were just trying to make your way back. 

You debated calling Anakin. You could. He would be able to guide you home easily, you rationalized. But it’s Coruscant! How difficult could it be? If people came here for missions all the time and didn’t get hopelessly lost, so could you! And Anakin was probably busy anyway, you didn’t want to disturb him. Besides, the relationship was so new! You didn’t want to annoy him. After weighing the odds, you pushed down the urge to reach out and decided to just find your own way.

This logic was ridiculous, you realized far too late. Fuck. There was no way around it, you were going to be late. Or at the very least, cut it exceptionally close. You started running, heart racing. It would be so stupid to be late to your first actual Council meeting because you got lost. You wanted them to take you seriously and think of you as a professional. Tardiness as a first impression went against all of that!

After sprinting and taking several aimless turns, by some stroke of magic you found your way to the Temple. You checked the time and realized you had two minutes to make it to up several flights of stairs.

Fuck it. You decided, taking off in a run. You took the stairs two at a time, stumbling occasionally before unceremoniously bursting through the doors to the meeting.

You gulped in air quickly, chest heaving while you desperately tried to calm your heart. You inelegantly brushed a hand through your hair and gave an awkward smile. 

“Hi, uh, everyone! Hi! I’m,” You took a quick break to breathe in some more oxygen as your gaze shifted to Anakin. He looked amused and concerned as he took you in. He gave you a discreet and supportive smile and head nod. You gave your own in return. He believes in me. “I’m Senator Y/N L/N” 

II.

Honestly, you didn’t know how your speeder had broken. You’d been flying them for years and, despite being a senator, you were pretty damn good at it. It was something that gave you solace as a kid, those little moments of freedom. Even then, though, you were a decently cautious person and didn’t break many of them.

Thus, you ended up in your current predicament. Staring at the fried wires under the hood of your speeder, trying to figure out what the fuck went wrong. You knew Anakin was freakishly talented at fixing basically everything. He could probably look at the speeder for 10 minutes, know what’s wrong with it, and get it back to you in perfect shape.

You think this is why you don’t want to tell him. What if he thought you were stupid? Shouldn’t you be able to figure this out yourself? You fought with your instincts, feeling the conflict build inside you.

You knew he wouldn’t judge you. You knew he’d be glad you came to him for help. Even so, you felt physically incapable of moving to call or find him. 

Frustrated, you turned back to your work. You decided to pull this one gear, thinking it might do something. Well, you were right about that. A stream of oil sprayed out of the speeder, coating you in its thick, black paint. You stood there frozen for a second, trying to mentally comprehend that you had just been sprayed with oil because you were too afraid to talk to the man you were in a literal relationship with!!

You groaned, wiping your hands on your pants before grabbing a towel to wipe some of the grease off your face. You walked back into your apartment quickly, praying to the Maker that no one would see you like this. Honestly, they’d probably smell you first and run the other way.

You finally got back without problems and made a bee-line straight to the bathroom. Pulling off your clothes and turning on the hot shower, you sighed as you finally felt the oil washed off your skin. You spent about twenty minutes in there, scrubbing furiously to ensure you didn’t smell like a fucking garage. 

Finally, you went out and saw Anakin sitting on your bed, messing with a piece of wiring. 

“Hey, Y/N! Did you know your speeder was broken? It looks like you blew a cable, easy fix, don’t worry. I’ll have it ready for you by tonight.”

He looked up and saw your exhausted state and the clump of dirty, grease ridden clothes you were holding. 

His brow furrowed, trying to piece it together. “Maker, what happened to you?”

“I had a fight with the speeder. And lost”

Anakin bit back a laugh before his confusion compounded. “Wait, you know I can fix this, right? Why didn’t you tell me?” 

“I didn’t want you to think I was an idiot. I mean, I did something and broke an entire speeder and somehow didn’t even know what I broke! It’s humiliating!”

“Cables are hard, it’s not your fault you didn’t know what to do, love.”

“Really?” You asked, unconvinced. 

“Really. Come on, let’s go throw those clothes in the wash and I’ll get back to fixing this.”

“Oh, no, Ani you don’t have to-”

Anakin cut you off with a kiss, distracting you enough to quickly take the clothes from your hands.

“I’ll have it ready within the hour, my love.”

III.

Who the fuck decided to put the plates that high up?!

You jumped again and again, arm outstretched as far as possible. Once again, you didn’t even get close. Sighing, you looked around the apartment and noticed a ladder. It looked a bit unsteady but you would be fine, right? You were a whole ass senator, you were sure you could handle an old ladder. 

Pulling it over to you, you climbed up and reached out. Much closer this time, but you still couldn’t reach them. You went on your tiptoes, eyebrows furrowed and lip bit in concentration. You angled your body just a little further, a little further-

The ladder was suddenly ripped out from under you and you desperately shot your arms out, hands clawing to try and stop your imminent fall onto the hard kitchen tiles. Bracing yourself for the inevitable pain, you squeezed your eyes closed. 

“Y/N!!” You heard as your fall suddenly stopped. You opened your eyes and noticed you were barely floating above the floor. Anakin ran toward you and noticed the ladder strewn on the floor beside you. 

“What the hell were you doing?” He said, offering you his hand and pulling you up.

“I was just-” You gesture lamely to the plates, realizing how ridiculous you must look.

“Y/N, no one can reach those! Next time, just call me, I’ll get them for you!”

“But-” You sigh, hating this. “I wanted to be able to do this, I don’t want to rely on you and your Jedi powers all the time”

Anakin’s gaze softened. He knew you had trouble relying on others. Even so, he couldn’t even start to think of what would have happened if he’d arrived home even 10 seconds later.

“I know, baby, I know. But, please, try. You’d have to rely on me a lot more if you break your legs falling off a ladder.” 

“I know” You reply softly, giving him a shy smile. “I’m working on it, I promise”

IV.

You’d been up all night working on a new presentation for the Council. You’d spent hours going over it, the facts, the plans, the details. Everything was set. Well, everything except one little piece. To make your point stronger, you needed the statistics from the latest Jedi missions. 

The only people with access to those were Anakin and Obi-Wan. You knew, logically, that if you asked Anakin he’d give them to you without hesitation. He supported you always and knew that you only used your power as a senator to improve lives. 

Even so, there was that part of your brain that told you he wouldn’t give them to you. He would think you’re just trying to use him for his connections as a Jedi. Or perhaps he simply wouldn’t care enough to search through the reports to find the information.

All of this was, of course, completely inaccurate. But you’d never had someone who actually wanted to help you. It's always been “okay I’ll do this for you but only if you do this for me, too.” No one ever looked out for you and you’d grown accustomed to it. It’d become almost comforting, in a way. At least you knew what to expect. 

This was how you ended up seeing your beautiful boyfriend across the halls of the Jedi temple and walking another way. Your heart tugged painfully and your brain screamed at you. Why don’t you allow yourself to trust him? Why would you assume the worst? Why can’t you fight these thoughts? 

You took one more look back at him. You didn’t want to be closed off by any stretch of the imagination. You wished you could turn off the thoughts and the doubt. You knew Ani didn’t deserve it. You sighed. There he was, training by himself in the courtyard. You looked away and took a moment to compose yourself before your legs carried you away and toward your good friend.

“Hey, Obi-Wan, could you help me with something for the next Council meeting?”

V.

You were running. You were running and as fast as you moved, you never got closer to him. You were never safe. A masked figure was chasing you and you just couldn’t get away. Your legs burned with the effort, your lungs straining to grasp oxygen. You were exhausted to your core, your sheer panic the only thing keeping you awake. 

You looked back and saw the man gaining on you. Tears started streaming down your cheeks. You knew what he was capable of and had no doubt he would kill you if he caught you. You didn’t want to die, not like this. You didn’t want him to beat you. You were so, so scared. You screamed as he caught up to you, your body no longer moving. You pleaded with your legs to work, reasoned with the heavens, did anything you could, and yet you wouldn’t budge. 

The stranger’s claw of a hand twisted around your neck, squeezing. You fought. It was pointless. You began to black out, feeling the life slip out of your body. Dark spots appeared in the corners of your vision and you tried once again to kick your way out of his grasp-

You bolted awake, eyes shooting open. Your chest was heaving and tear stains marked your cheeks. You placed your hands on the bed sheets, bunching them up and trying to feel the texture to remind yourself that you were safe. You tried to breathe, tried to calm yourself but nothing was working. 

You got up, pacing quietly. Out of all the nights to have a nightmare, it had to be today. The one night you and Anakin weren’t together. Since you had to hide the relationship, you couldn’t technically share an apartment. This didn’t stop you from spending basically every night together, though. His chambers became yours after the first month or so of dating, neither of you wanting to spend time apart. 

But, unfortunately, the Council seemed more cautious as of late and you didn’t want to risk it. Thus, you decided to spend tonight apart. Still, you couldn’t bring yourself to care right now.  You grabbed one of his Jedi robes, pulling the black fabric around your body. You were immediately calmed by his scent and wrapped it closer around you. You started to make your way down the hall. You knew it was risky but after that nightmare, you just needed him. 

You made it to his apartment, went to knock on the door, and abruptly stopped. What are you doing? You can’t just go to him! He’s exhausted, he’s been working all week! He finally got home from a mission and you want to wake him up in the middle of the night because you had a nightmare? It wasn’t even real! Maker, get a hold of yourself, Y/N! 

Your hand hovered over the door. You wanted him, you did. But those lingering thoughts, those lingering emotions remained. A childhood of neglect, of constant feelings of unimportance left scars you couldn’t avoid. You hated that your parent’s inability to show you affection or care manifested in your inability to be vulnerable. Despite this, you somehow understood. You’d spent years letting them in and only getting invalidated in return. Like all patterns, this one wouldn’t go away just because you wanted it to. 

Now, every time you tried to let Anakin in, it’s like an alarm was tripped in your brain. Every part of you that wanted to allow him to know you was combated with the overwhelming fear that, if you did, if you went to him for comfort or help, he would think of you as a burden. He’d leave, just like the rest of them did. So you pushed the urge for comfort aside, dropped your hand, and made the lonely walk back to your room. 

You got back to your room, mentally beating yourself up. You wished your brain worked differently. You wished you would allow yourself to be loved. You wished you could trust, fully and completely. You sighed. Knowing you wouldn’t be getting any sleep, you made yourself a cup of tea and sat on your cough, the room solely illuminated by the moonlight. You kept Anakin’s robes around you, wishing it was his arms. You sat like that until morning, sipping the drink on and off until it grew cold. You were zoned out, staring out the window at the Coruscant traffic. Your thoughts either drifted to him or your past trauma. Maker, you wished you could change it. 

I.

Fuck. You’d been driving around on your speeder, zipping in and out of alleys, for the last twenty minutes. There was a bounty hunter after you. A damn good bounty hunter, at that. Being a high profile senator, it made sense you’d run into the occasional person trying to kidnap you. Or kill you. 

Damn, this bitch is good. You kept trying to lose them but you couldn’t shake them. You didn’t even  know who they were but it didn’t matter, you supposed. At the end of the day, regardless of who was in that speeder, they wanted you dead. And if you didn’t figure out how to get out of this mess, you would be. 

They’d been shooting at you for a while now but you’d been able to avoid the blasts. Whether it was skill, luck, or a combination of both, you weren’t sure. Even so, you didn’t know what to do. You couldn’t shoot back at them, as you stupidly forgot your blaster. Who could blame you, though? All you wanted to do was go for a ride to clear your head, you didn’t expect to be fucking shot at!

You continued like this for a while. All you had to do was get back to the Temple. You were probably about 10 minutes away if you continued at this pace, 7 if you really pushed it. You looked ahead and saw the walls of it come into view and suddenly safety didn’t feel so far away. Despite the circumstances, a smile graced your face. You could do this. 

Or maybe not. As you tried to swerve between more buildings, they hit you. You felt your speeder plummet 10 feet instantly and screamed. Your engine sputtered and your heart dropped. Mind racing, you tried to drive but came to the chilling realization that there was no way you’d make it back. Your engine was done for, it wouldn’t make it 3 minutes, yet alone all the way back. 

Your mind went to him. Anakin. Fuck, you loved him. You let out a humorless laugh. Since you started dating, you almost never asked him for help. You couldn’t let him in. Something in your brain stopped you every single time. And yet, now, all of that felt stupid. It felt juvenile. When you looked at your speeder, slowly but surely stalling and the bounty hunter approaching, you felt this overwhelming sense of clarity.

You were going to die. This person, they would get to your speeder and shoot you. You didn’t have a single weapon. It was inevitable. Your mind, however, wouldn’t relent. It was stuck on him. In this moment, you pressed the comm button in your speeder, hoping beyond hope that it would still work. 

“Y/N?” Anakin’s staticky voice cut through the speeder and went straight to your heart. 

“Hey, Ani” You said, your voice broken up with unshed tears.

“Y/N? Where are you? What’s happening?”

“I’m- Anakin, I’m in trouble. A bounty hunter is after me, my speeder is hit and going to stop working probably within the next 20 seconds. I don’t have any weapons to defend myself. I, I, uh, I need your help”

“I’m coming to get you, stay where you are.” His voice was firm, his need to protect you overruling everything else in his body. 

“I’m just a few-”

“I’ve got you, love. I can sense you in the Force. I know where you are”

Of course he could. You took a few deep breaths and you speeder sputtered out, stopping in a deserted alleyway. You looked around and saw the bounty hunter, now obviously male, stepping out and making his way towards you. 

“He’s here, Anakin” Your voice was tight, anxious. You were quiet, paralyzed by fear. 

“Please, Y/N, fuck! Hold on, I’m almost there”

“Ani, Anakin I’m scared! Ani! Ani!” You were hysterical now, screaming and sobbing his name as the man punched the top of your speeder, fracturing the glass. He pulled you out of it by the hair and threw you harshly onto the concrete. 

You yelped in pain as he kicked you directly in the ribs. He backhanded you across the face, the power from his hit making blood pool in your mouth. Harshly you spit it onto the ground, looking up at him with pure hate. 

He placed the blaster to your head, right on your forehead. You let your eyes flutter closed. Your knees were scraped, legs bruised. You were sure at least one of your ribs was broken. You could feel blood running from your temple. Your arm was radiating pain from landing on it. Despite all this, the only thing you thought of was Anakin. Funny, you thought, how the brain chooses what to focus on in its last moments. All you hoped was that he didn’t feel responsible for your death. All you hoped was that he knew you loved him. 

“You’re finished, Senator”

“I don’t think so” Anakin’s smooth voice, tight with anger, cut through the air. His lightsaber unsheathed, he swung it directly into the man. You gasped, everything happening so quickly. As soon as the blaster was gone from your forehead, you scrambled back. 

Anakin walked up to you but, from the shock, you pulled back even further. 

“Hey, hey, it’s me, it’s Anakin, okay? I’m not gonna hurt you”

You whimpered, looking at him and placing a hand on his jacket before harshly jumping into his arms. He gripped you to him, both of you sighing in relief. 

“You came for me” 

He looked at you like you were insane. “Of course I did! You needed me, you called! I’m always going to be there for you, Y/N. I am always going to show up”

“Thank you” You said, voice muffled against his chest. His hands raked through your hair while you just breathed him in. His scent comforted you, his strong chest and large arms grounding you after a day so intense and horrifying that nothing felt real. 

You were still trembling, the aftershocks quite apparent. 

“I’ve got you, I’ve got you. You’re safe, he’s dead, he’s gone. No one’s ever gonna hurt you again, I promise.” Anakin whispered these affirmations into your hair, holding you until the shaking ceased. 

“Thank you for calling me, Y/N. I know that couldn’t have been easy for you.”

“It wasn’t that hard, to be honest, I- wait? What do you mean, you know it couldn’t have been easy for me?!”

Anakin looked at your sheepishly. “You honestly think I haven’t noticed your problems with asking for help? We’ve been together for almost a year and, contrary to popular belief, I can be quite perceptive. I didn’t want to call you out on it, I assumed you’d be embarrassed. But I’m glad that when it actually came down to life or death, you called me.”

“I’ve always known I could call you, Anakin. Please, I don’t want you to ever think my inability to be vulnerable is rooted to anything you do. You’re, fuck, you’re perfect. You’re kind and compassionate and caring and you’re always looking out for me. Look, I know I haven’t been too open about my past and I still struggle with that. I guess what I’m trying to say is I’ve never had someone who actually wanted to be there for me. This thing where you care and want me to come to you when I’m hurting or simply just want affection or company or help with the little things, it’s foreign to me.”

Ani’s heart broke at your words. “I’m sorry I didn’t know you back then, Y/N. I hate that this” He said, gesturing between you both “is unique to you. But, seriously, anytime you need anything I’m someone you can come to. I honestly want you to come to me. Regardless of if you think it’s something small or this life-altering favor, ask me. I doubt I’d turn you away and, on the off chance I do, I’m not gonna hold that against you.”

“You won’t leave? Even if I show you all of me? Even if I rely on you?”

“I won’t leave you, beautiful. So long as you allow me to show you all of me, too. And you let me rely on you, too.”

Your eyes widened at his words. “Of course! Of course, Ani! I’m here for you, I got you, too, always.”

“I know you do” His flesh hand went up, cupping your cheek. 

“I know you do, too.” You sighed into his touch. You were exhausted beyond belief, your body and mind pretty much shutting down from the stress of it all. Even so, you relaxed further into his body. Yeah, this was new. Yes, it was scary. But you were going to try. Even though it terrified you, you wanted to be loved. You wanted to be loved by him.

--

tagging julia bc she asked when i was textpost-complaining about having to edit this <3

@anakinswhore 

[missmonsters2]

Between the Lines || XI

PAIRING: Steve Rogers & Fem!Reader (Platonic) / Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader / Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader / Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader x Wanda Maximoff

Summary: Vampire AU. Life has changed drastically since the 1600s. Things are always on the move, and you’ve been very careful to not get on SHIELDs radar. Living on the down-low owning a café, you’re content to live out a quiet existence. That is until the Avengers enter your life.

[Set after the New York Invasion, in CAWS, and goes up to AoU. Canon divergent after.]

Warnings: This series will contain smut(**), poly-relationship, and dark themes.

Note: Hiatus is over hopefully and we’re on the last arc! Shit is gon’ happen so strap yourselves in and enjoy the ride 👏🏻👏🏻

PART I || PART II || PART III || PART IV || PART V || PART VI || PART VII || PART VIII || PART IX || PART X

PART XI of XX

Count: 5,532

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

Hot. 

Your body felt hot, and there was something deliciously thick going down your throat.

Blood. 

You could taste it so very clearly. 

You could feel your body healing, the bullet holes mending themselves until there was nothing left, and your body in pristine condition. 

Thumping.

You could hear a pounding in your ears and then a soft, breathy moan. 

You wanted to be closer. 

Your hand presses against the wall as your other hand presses the warmth closer to you.

God, you could get lost in this forever as you swallow a mouthful of blood. 

"Ah..."

The sound is both melodic and also a warning bell to you. 

You need to stop.

You have to stop.

Your hand presses against the wall harshly as you feel it break as you curl your hand in an attempt to pull yourself away. 

The tight grip of Wanda's legs around your waist starts to loosen as you pull your mouth away from her neck. She's still holding you close, and you don't move your head too far from her neck. 

The thumping of her heart feels weaker, and you purse your lips, disappointed with yourself. You clean the drip of blood trailing down her throat, ignoring the way Wanda's breath still hitches before your lick at the bite wounds at her neck. 

Soon enough, the bite marks begin to disappear, leaving Wanda's neck bare and unblemished, but a slight red overtone stain from her blood. 

When you pull back enough to see her face, Wanda looks drowsy.

"I'm sorry," you swallow. "I went overboard."

Wanda shakes her head lightly, feeling dizzy from just the motion. 

"It's fine," she says, "I didn't mind."

Wanda tries to stand up, but it's too much as her legs give way, and she falls. You catch her before her knees hit the ground. 

You purse your lips before you hook your arm under the back of Wanda's legs, pulling her up to carry her.

Wanda rests her head against your shoulder as you carry her out. When the door opens, you're met with everyone waiting outside to see if you were okay.

You see Natasha standing there, looking at the two of you, and you feel like you've been punched in the stomach. But you don't get much time to dwell on it when Pietro comes up to you, worry all over his face when he looks at his sister.

He squints his eyes at you, and it doesn't faze you as you are to blame for her state.

"She's okay," you tell him quietly. "She just needs some rest and lots of fluids."

"I'll get her some juice. We should be landing soon, so I'll whip up something for her to help," David offers as he takes off. 

Pietro looks like he wants to take Wanda from your arms, but you cock your brow at him.

"You'll drop her in your state if you try to carry her," you tell him, looking at his bullet wound specifically and how he was hunched over slightly. 

Pietro scowls but relents as he follows you to the room next door as you set Wanda down gently. Your hand moves to gently get her to let go of your jacket, and you set the blanket over her.

As you get up to leave, Pietro stops you.

He presses his lips together, frowning initially before he lets out a sigh. "Thank you."

You merely nod, patting his shoulder gently before you leave him alone with his sister. 

When you leave, you're on a one-track mission to talk to Natasha, but before you can even reach her, Maria intercepts. It seemed Fury was looking for you to get some details regarding the mission and had some questions. 

You scrunch your nose as you look at Natasha. 

"We can talk later," Natasha says quietly so only you can hear as she nods. 

You sigh, looking at her forlornly before you follow Maria.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

There's a wave of peace when you arrive back in New York. You never thought you would feel this way about a place. A part of you thinks that maybe it's not the place, but the fact that you're here with all the people you care about.

Your family.

Talking with Fury had taken longer than you wanted, giving you no chance to speak with Natasha. 

Everyone heads back to the Stark Tower. At first, you were going to follow along with them, but Natasha holds your hand, drawing you back while shaking her head.

"Let's head back to your place," Natasha says quietly.

You gulp.

"Okay."

You feel it must be a good sign still with Natasha holding your hand as she leads you away to her car, though she's quiet the entire ride, making no move to talk. So, you also sit quietly as you watch the scenery out the window. 

Natasha walks herself straight to your bathroom when she enters your home. You feel grimy yourself and head to a different washroom yourself to clean up. 

You finish before Natasha, and you head over to the kitchen to make her a drink. Unsure of what Natasha wanted to say or how she would react, you didn't think it would hurt to try to bribe her with a drink. It has turned quite late into the night, so you decide to make her a tea instead of coffee.

You go to sit on the sofa, quietly putting soft music in the background in an attempt to soothe yourself as you idly feel the soft fabric underneath your fingers. 

Soon enough, you hear the water turn off in the washroom, and Natasha comes out, fresh and clean, with a towel around her neck as she dries her hair. 

Warmth spreads over your chest as Natasha comes to sit on the sofa, right next to you. You hand her the drink, and she quirks her brow at you with a slight curve in her lip as she takes it.

Humming after she takes a sip, she sets the drink down, towel discarded to the side as she looks at you. 

You purse your lips.

"I--"

You're cut off when Natasha launches herself at you, her lips hitting yours roughly as she slides her fingers across your jaws. 

Surprise takes over you as you automatically reach over to wrap your arms around Natasha's waist. She bites your lower lip, rather hard, and you wonder if this is a punishment. 

When she pulls back, the two of you are a little breathless. 

"Are you...upset?" You ask slowly, scrunching your brow and licking your bottom lip to soothe the pain Natasha inflicted.

Natasha leans back, settling to rest her head between your shoulder and neck as she sighs deeply and heavily. 

"Yes, and no," she answers after moments of silence. Your arms are still wrapped around her as your fingers slide down her arm. You place your hand gently atop of Natasha's. 

You don't say anything because it seems like Natasha is still putting her thoughts together. 

"I'm not mad," Natasha decides. "I know that what you did was out of necessity. You were severely injured, and the only person who could help you was Wanda."

You could sense the lingering at the end of her sentence. 

"But...I don't know. Seeing you with her, so...lost within her...it was different. I understand it, I really do, and on top of that, Wanda is a beautiful girl," Natasha sighs.

You nod, knowing Natasha could feel it. 

"I'm not mad," Natasha repeats.

"Then?" You lick your bottom lip.

Natasha turns her hand around to lace her fingers with yours, pursing her lips, annoyed by how she's unable to describe how she feels.

"I don't know."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

You were miffed.

With David specifically.

The offender was aware since you've ignored him for a couple days now and haven't looked once in his direction.

You stood with everyone at the Stark Towers as they talked casually. The place is currently being repaired right now after all the damage done by Ultron, but it was still standing for the most part.

Tony talked about how he wanted to build a new compound for the Avengers and was considering either selling the Stark Tower or just taking it back for his company. 

You were standing at the side, between Steve and Natasha, as you tap your foot idly. 

David stood across from you, staring at you while you pointedly didn't look at him, mouth pressed in a firm line. 

A part of you wanted to be rational.

It's not like you were unaware of the circumstances. Drink from Wanda or risk killing everyone on the helicarrier, and also killing yourself in the process. 

And by God knows, no one would've been able to stop you.  

But...you were still so angry.

David knew the consequences of this, and he took it, and you could not blame him for it.

"You can't ignore me forever," David says quietly, moving his mouth so quickly, no one can hear but you. 

You don't say anything.

"Ignoring me isn't going to solve anything, and you know it," David continues on. "We need to talk now, and I'll make a scene if I have to."

You pause for a moment, eyes flittering over to Wanda, who is standing next to David along with Pietro. She's got her brow raised as if she could hear the conversation between the two of you. You don't doubt the possibility that she could.

You look at David, who is staring at you challengingly. Making a scene would be awkward, but you felt childish, wanting to ignore David a little more.

So, you called his bluff. 

And he proved you wrong. 

David barrels into you, tackling you into the empty space as everyone gasps, tensing as they want to break up the fight but knowing they physically would be unable to do so. 

"Stop being so stubborn!" David yells at you, atop of you, and you bare your teeth at him.

Being older brings advantages; David knows that as you flip him over, toppling him underneath you.

"You know exactly why I'm pissed at you!" You snarl at him.

David goes limp in your hold, sighing as he does so.

"I know," he says quietly, "and I'm sorry, but there wasn't any other choice."

Hearing David apologize to you even though you knew it wasn't really his fault made you grimace.  

God, you were such an ass sometimes. 

You sigh, loosening your grip on David as you stand up, pulling him up with you. 

"What...the hell was that?" Tony says, staring in disbelief at you two. 

"Just a disagreement," you mutter as you rotate your shoulder to relocate it back into place. 

Natasha purses her lip at you as you walk back up to her.

You shrug at her, not really wanting to get into it again.

"We've got some things we have to discuss first, we'll meet up with you guys later," David announces, pulling you with him as you frown.

Everyone just blinks at the two of you exist the room, and head to the rooftop. Once up there, you feel a slight breeze and can smell how fall is approaching. 

"Are you done being pissed at me?" David asks as the two of you look over the railing at the city. 

You exhale heavily through your nose.

"I know it's not your fault," you tell David, "but I would have preferred it more if you took me and jumped off the helicarrier and have our bodies be obliterated when we hit the ground."

"I'll keep that in mind the next time we encounter this problem," David smiles wryly.

"You put me in a horribly awkward situation, David, nevermind the consequences of it," you sighed, pressing your temples with your hand before rubbing your face. 

"How did Natasha take it?" David asked. 

You shrug. "She didn't really take it any way at all. She said she doesn't know how she felt about it. She's neither upset nor okay with it, but she understands."

"That must be better than her being pissed at you," David shrugs. 

"I don't know," you say, "I know how to deal with pissed, I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do when even she doesn't know how she feels."

"And Wanda?" David probes.

You tense up immediately at her name, David catching it immediately.

"That bad or that good?" 

You turn to glare at him.

"Sorry."

You turn back to the city skyline. 

"I don't know," you tell him honestly, blinking slowly. "She looks incredibly so much like Tatyana, and yet, I know distinctly it's not her. She's both familiar and new to me. A part of me understands I'm the only link to explaining her family's past, but I feel like I need to keep my distance as well, even though I can't now."

"Why? Did you feel something for her?" David asks.

"A little too much,"  you wryly admit. "It was terrifying, honestly."

"But?" David probes some more.

You look at him. "But I am in love with Natasha."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

You and David stay on the rooftop for a while just to enjoy the quiet while you can before you head back to have the real serious talk.

When you come down, you see that everyone had still stayed in the room, loitering as if they weren't waiting for the two of you to go back.  

Natasha looks at you, and you nod, telling her that you and David were okay. David looks at Natasha and gives her his dashing smile that she returns in small. 

"We need to talk," you say in a sobering tone, looking at Wanda, while you make a move to grab Natasha's hand. 

Wanda stares at you, not saying anything as she tilts her head.

"About what?" Pietro cuts in, looking at you with a frown. 

"Пьетро," Wanda says, accent thick as she grabs his arm to calm him down. "About what?" Wanda asks as she turns her head back to you. 

You look around the room as if to tell everyone else this is a private matter.

"Oh no," Tony says, leaning against a counter. "We're all in this together now. Share with the class."

Steve was the only other person in the room, and he nodded his head firmly at you in more of a supportive way than Tony. 

You let out a long sigh as you turn back to Wanda.

"It's about...what happened when I fed on you," you say slowly and rather awkwardly, feeling Natasha's hand tighten around yours. 

Wanda licks her lips. 

"You've probably figured out by now that I know an ancestor of your guys'," you say.

"That woman I've seen in your head..." Wanda brings up, and you grimace.

"Yeah, her," you confirm. 

"Wait, what?" Pietro says, swerving back to look at his sister. "She knows someone in our family tree, and you didn't say anything?"

"I didn't know for sure," Wanda shrugs. 

"How did you know her? Was that why you were looking for us?" Pietro asked, narrowing his eyes in suspicion. 

"Her name was Tatyana. She was..." you clear your throat. "She was...my lover. But yes, she was partly why I was looking for the two of you. But the truth is, every time there is a new descendant, I always look for them. Although somewhere along the way, I lost track because your great-great-grandfather decided to have multiple children in secret."

"So, we actually have a big family we don't know about?" Pietro scrunches his eyebrows together.

You shake your head. "No, you two are the sole surviving people left in your family. Everyone else has rather lived short lives or died due to an accident or illness."

Pietro continues to stare at you suspiciously but moves on. "You say this Tatyana woman was our ancestor, but how did we come to be if she was your lover."

"Tatyana had a life before me," you shrug. "She never really talked about it, but she was in an arranged marriage when she was younger and had a child. Of course, her husband took on a second wife since it was common back in the day. It wasn't the life she wanted, and she had never been inclined to children. Leaving was easy for her."

"She was...a witch," Wanda says slowly as if to confirm with you.

"Yes," you nodded stiffly. "Her...powers is genetic."

"But I didn't have any powers when I was born. I was given it through the scepter," Wanda argued. 

You lick your lips. "Over the years, your bloodline was diluted. The powers are genetic, but with Tatyana, but since no one in the family ever married another witch or warlock, the powers became weaker and weaker every time until there was basically nothing. In this day and age, you would be so lucky to even find a true witch or warlock by blood because they're all in hiding, though the stake burning has stopped."

"Then...the scepter..." Wanda pondered.

"You may not have had obvious powers, but you probably experienced smaller things as a child. A feeling you couldn't ignore, a dream that came true, something buzzing at your fingertips, but you just couldn't explain it. The scepter unlocked that gene within you. It jumpstarted the powers you had inside all along," you theorize. 

Wanda looked at you in shock, confirming that she experienced those things in her youth. 

"Why didn't I get the same gift as Wanda then if I have the gene too?" Pietro asked.

You shrug. "I'm only guessing. I've never actually seen any males in your family tree display any inkling of a gift. I'm assuming the scepter had more of play in powers for you."

Pietro hums, looking at his sister before shrugging and moving on. 

"Well, a great history lesson. You slept with my ancestor, is that what you wanted to tell us?" Pietro cocked his brow with a smirk, and you roll your eyes.

"No, I wish it were just that," you sigh inaudibly, feeling your stomach drop as you looked back at Wanda.

"The day I fed from you...did you feel anything happen to your body after?"

Wanda cocked her brow at you, and you felt your cheeks warm and forced it down before it could physically show on your face.

"I mean, like, a burning...no, I mean...did you feel any pain afterward?" You stumbled over your words, not even daring to look at Natasha as you kept holding her hand. "Specifically, did any of your bones hurt?"

Wanda stares at you a moment longer before nodding slowly. "I did," she says. "I felt something here like it was on fire...I assumed it was because too much blood was taken." She points to her sternum.

You pursed your lips, feeling suspicion rise higher inside.

You turn to Tony. "Do you have an x-ray machine here?"

"I do," Tony raises one of his brows. 

"Why do you need an x-ray?" Pietro asked, mildly alarmed.

You didn't answer as Tony led everyone out of the room into the medical bay area where there were multiple body x-ray scanning machines, though many of the devices but two were crushed when Ultron attacked the tower. 

You had to let go of Natasha's hand as you walk up to Wanda, who is looking at your own sternum for a moment before looking back at you.

"I need to confirm if what I believe is true," you tell her softly, asking her to get onto the machine.

"I'll show you mine if you show me yours," Wanda says with a slight raise of her brow and a tiny quirk in her lips like she knows you're hiding something underneath. 

You purse your lips, not really wanting everyone to see what is in your body, but you know it's only fair if you're asking Wanda.

"Alright," you agree with a nod. 

"Are you serious?" David blinks in disbelief, and Natasha turns to him with curious eyes. 

You shrug.

"It was bound to come out at some point...I wanted to show Nat sometime anyways," you look over at your girlfriend with a smile, feeling slightly guilty about hiding things still. 

Both you and Wanda get onto the machine while Tony operates it to get a CT scan of the bones. 

The scan is over relatively quickly, doing the front and back as you both make it out of the room to join the crowd around the monitor. 

The images slowly load.

"Jesus Christ," Steve exclaims under his breath.

"What the fuck," Tony squints his eyes as if he doesn't believe what he's seeing. 

Though both pictures showed up, yours drew all the attention.

Marks and drawings were engraved into your bones everywhere on the front and back of your ribs like they were tattoos. 

"What are these?" Natasha asked as she leans in to take a closer look at the images. 

"They're searings from a priest," you tell them, turning your attention to Natasha.

"Leo?" She asks quietly. 

You nod your head, blinking languidly as you look at her face.

"What's it for?" Steve asked, squinting his eyes slightly.

You stand straighter as you readjust your jacket.  

"They're markings that allow me to go into the sun without being burnt alive," you say, watching as everyone just blink at you. "David has the same ones, though not done by the same priest."

"So, something does happen if you go into the sun!" Tony exclaims as if he was right all along.

"...Yes, but I don't sparkle. It's quite the opposite. It burns and rips at the flesh and smells exactly like what you think it would smell like," you tell him. Tony made a gagging face at the thought. 

"Wait, what is that?" Pietro says as he looked at Wanda's image, finding a scrawling in red burned into her sternum.

Everyone draws their attention over before looking back at yours.

You had an identical one in the same place. 

The searings on your rib were in black, while the one on your sternum was red in color.

"Oh, shit," David says, breaking the silence. "We activated the second part of your curse."

"Curse? What curse? What did you do to my sister?" Pietro pushes past everyone until he's standing in front of you, gripping the lapels of your jacket. 

"Пьетро!" Wanda calls after him, putting her hand on his arm to pull him back, but he doesn't budge.

You swallow.

"As I said," you put your hands around Pietro's, forcing him to let go. "I was involved with Tatyana, your ancestor, and it didn't end well."

"She cursed you because of a quarrel or a breakup?" Pietro snorted as if he didn't believe you.

You quirked your brow at him. "No, she cursed me because I killed her."

"You killed her?" Tony says in incredulity. "You killed your girlfriend." 

"I had to," you shift uncomfortably, the guilt rising up as Natasha moves to hold your hand. "She turned. Upset with how villages were hunting witches along with other horrible things, she was trying to create vampires using her magic to destroy the villages. She was murdering innocent people, and nothing I said reached her anymore. When I begged her to stop, she didn't. I did what I had to."

"Jesus fucking Christ," Tony blinked. "You know, I'm surprised you didn't become a villain; your origin story would've been so good."

You roll your eyes.

"What was the curse, and what does that have to do with my sister?" Pietro demanded.

"The curse was that I could never feed from a human being other than her. But because you are descendants from her, you share the same blood, which creates somewhat of a loophole." You sigh, pressing your lips together as you look at Wanda. "The reason I was actually looking for the two of you is that I always keep track of the descendants of Tatyana's. I do that so I know who I cannot ever risk of drinking their blood, even if you donated blood by chance, I wouldn't take your blood bag."

You look at Natasha, "I'm sorry, but I didn't tell you everything that night," you say softly. 

Natasha bit her tongue, "You said that you didn't want to find a cure to this curse...but you've actually had already tried to find one, haven't you?

You nodded, biting your bottom lip.

"Yes...Leo and I spent years trying to find the cure at first. At one point, I encountered one of Tatyana's grandchildren. I could smell the same blood of Tatyana's in her. At that time, I was living off of animal blood," you sighed. "I don't know, something came over me, and I jumped at her. I realized that I could drink from her...but that's when I realized the second part of this curse." 

You looked at Wanda apologetically. "I inflict this curse back on them."

"What?" Pietro bellowed.

"What happened to Tatyana's granddaughter?" Steve asked with arms crossed as he processed the information.

"Another vampire tried to feed on her and she died instantly," you frowned. "When Leo and I realized the intricacies of this, I stopped looking for the cure because it was clear there wasn't one without Tatyana being the one to remove it. On top of that, it kept my bloodlust in check. I had to be more conscious about it unless I wanted to die."

"Why didn't you just tell me?" Natasha asked quietly. 

"Because I'm not proud of it. Worse than killing Tatyana because I had to was awful. But then I went and tried to remove her curse," you frowned slightly. "I'm not like you, Nat. You deal with your ledger every day proudly and without hesitation."

You look away, ashamed of what you're admitting. "I couldn't. I wanted to get rid of the curse because even though it was what I deserved, it was just a daily reminder of Tatyana, and I didn't want to remember what I had done to her."

Fingers grip your chin, pulling you back, and you face Natasha.

"Hey, you are the bravest person I know," she says softly, and the words linger like she wants to say something else, but there's a crowd here. "We'll talk more later."

Natasha lifts your fingers to her lips and presses a soft kiss to them. The action brings a deep pit feeling in your stomach, and you feel something threatening to spill over, but you swallow it because now isn't the time. 

"So, what do we do now?" Pietro asks, bringing everyone back to the matter at hand.

You look solemnly at Pietro. "There's nothing I can do. I have to keep feeding from her regularly. Otherwise, she'll die."

"Why?" Pietro demanded, stress clear on his face. 

"This curse is a catch 22 situation. On the one hand, Wanda is the only person I can feed from. But on the other hand, now I'm the only vampire who can feed on her. If any other vampire tries to feed on her, it will react badly with my venom and kill her. If I don't regularly feed on her and inject new venom, her cells will slowly deteriorate and kill her. My venom is both a poison and a cure for her." Your expression was grim, and you looked over to Wanda, but the girl seemed to have no reaction at all to what you were saying, so you were unable to gauge how she was feeling. 

"And what?" Pietro pressed. "You'll do this to her forever? Because there's no fucking cure?"

You didn't really have an answer to that because it's not like you've encountered this situation. The last descendant you drank from died due to another vampire getting to her. You were sure as hell not going to let that happen this time, but you had a feeling Wanda could handle her own if someone tried to attack her. 

"No," you decided, exhaling softly. "I'm...going to try to find the cure again. If it was just me, that's one thing, but you're right; I can't let Wanda be affected forever too."

Natasha squeezed your hand, and you turned slightly to look at her, finding her giving you a small smile.

"How are you going to find a cure? I thought the only cure to this was if Tatyana reversed what she did, and she's no longer here," Steve asked.

You lick your lips as you lock eyes with David.

"It's been a while, but we're going to find Leo's descendent."

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

The day comes to a quiet end, and you find yourself looking out the window. The city is still bustling, and it's a reminder that New York is a city that never sleeps, and you kind of miss the atmosphere out in the countryside where Clint lived.

Natasha left with David to help him try to track down Leo's descendent. Though, you know it will be relatively easy.

Steve had pulled you aside after asking you seriously if you wanted him to stay to help you with this matter, but you shook your head.

"You need to find Bucky," you tell him. "He's out there, waiting for you unconsciously, I bet."

Steve seems like he wants to stay still, but you smile as you pat his broad shoulder.

"David found a tip on Bucky for you, so you need to go because it's not looking hot for him," you pass him a folded piece of paper.

"What if you need me?" Steve frowned.

"You'll be the first I'll call, solider," you wink.

"I better be," he smiles back, pulling you into a hug before he left. 

A part of you wonders how things will play out like how you saw when you touched Tony's hand. Regardless, if you could get Tony to think the Accords was a horrible idea, then things would change.

But changing Tony's mind or trying to influence him was like trying to move a mountain.

"Hey."

You turn to see Wanda standing at the door, far from you. When you turn, she takes it as a sign to enter the room and approach you.

"Hey," you reply, feeling your body going stiff, the conversation with David fresh in your mind. 

Wanda stands next to you before turning her head to look at the view outside.

"The view is very different than what I'm used to," she tells you quietly. 

"Better or worse?" You ask in return.

"Both. On the one hand, this is not the view of my homeland, but I suppose this is better than watching my country collapse."

You purse your lips at that, feeling sympathy for the girl before you.

"They will rebuild," you tell her softly, "and when you return, it will be a beautiful view once more."

Wanda gives you a small smile as she turns to face you. No one says anything, and the quiet settles over the two of you as you stare at each other. 

"I feel like you were meant to be in my life, and I'm meant to be in yours," Wanda tells you, blinking as if she's unsure if she should be saying so. 

"You feel something for me," Wanda states, and you immediately rush to deny it.

"Don't," Wanda warns you, and you press your lips together to hold the words back. "You do, and you can't lie to me about it. I...I feel confused around you. You and Natasha. I don't know what to make of any of it."

"There's so much history tied between us...I worry that your feelings are because of my ancestor--because you mistake me for her."

"I don't," you tell her immediately, not wanting her to feel like she was some replacement. "I admit you two are similar...in more ways than you know...but I know that you're not her."

"How?" Wanda smiles sardonically.

"Easiest explanation? Scent. Vampires are extremely sensitive to scent, and you have your own distinct smell. Long explanation? There's no one that could ever replace Tatyana to me, and I don't want anyone to. You are your own person, just as Natasha is. In my heart, Natasha is something new and cannot also ever be replaced," you say, wanting Wanda to understand, but also to draw a line. 

"And me?" Wanda pushes. "Where do you want me to stand in your heart?"

You clench your jaw, just about to answer when Natasha and David enter the room.

"We've found the descendent. He lives in Texas," David tells you. 

You take a step back from Wanda, clearing your throat quietly as you nod. 

Your girlfriend stares at you, her eyes shifting to Wanda for a microsecond before she looks back at you as if Natasha could tell she just walked into a tense moment.

"Good," you say. "We'll leave tomorrow morning. Everyone should get some rest."

You walk towards Natasha, grabbing her hand as you lead her out the room, only looking back once at Wanda, who stood there with her arms crossed over her chest as she looks at you with an expression you find yourself unable to decipher.

Nor forget.

PART XII

[neutron-stars-collision]

The Art of Inversion

Neil x Reader

Chapter 20 - Love Is Blindness

Masterlist; Chapter 19

Summary: The confrontation by the turnstile brings more tension into the scene. You and Neil have an opportunity to talk but it goes awry...

Warnings: Swearing.

Author’s Notes: So more of that glorious outfit, am I right? (and R here does have some fun with it) And more tension because why not (plot reasons). Ever so slowly we’re getting closer till the end but before we do let’s finish the Estonian chapter. I really hope I did the scene justice... I hope you’ll enjoy! Feedback in every shape and form always welcomed! 

The ride to Sator’s compound could not possibly get longer. Or tenser. For some unknown reasons, at least to you, Neil jumped into the same SUV. The lack of space in the cramped vehicle, which was already aggravating previously, got unbearable. Ives gave you the job of checking the route to make sure you were heading in the right direction (and avoiding the police patrols), which you took as a gesture of mercy. At least it meant you had something to stare at that was not the proximity of Neil’s knee next to yours. Still, your brain could not get past the fact that his shoulder, in that bloody navy shirt, was pressed against yours. The touch that normally set your whole being ablaze was now a harsh reminder of the lie you let yourself fall for. He did not love you. What is more, your feelings for him were a mere inconvenience rather than something he treasured. And the pain of that realisation broke your heart into pieces. You were foolish and naive; it was all that could be said. Whenever your thoughts wandered onto that territory, it was hard to hold back tears.

And so, you focused all the field of your attention on the map, giving out directions when needed. The rest of the squad was quiet, as though not knowing how to react to the show you and Neil put on. You could not blame them. After all, they have heard everything and now knew exactly how badly you fucked up. The least you needed at the moment was pity. You managed well to avoid even looking in the direction of Neil. It was as though the right side of your vision did not exist. On a few occasions, you could feel him stealing glances, increasing all the feelings tenfold. But, by far, the worst part of the journey happened near the end of those dreadful fifteen minutes. Just as you have been nearing the destination, Michael made one wrong turn. With the emotions heightened, that was enough to make you lash out:

“Fucking hell! Can’t you tell bloody left from right?” yelling, you met the soldier��s wary gaze in the rear-view mirror.

“I’m sorry” he hissed as though holding back harsher words “Where do I turn now?”

“I don’t fucking know”

Your hands were shaking. The additional strain of making sure you never touched Neil in any way, even passingly, made every move more difficult. And so, when you tried to grab the paper map of the area stashed in the seat back pocket, the tablet cluttered onto the car floor.

“Christ” you seethed to no one in particular and glanced at where the device had fallen.

The perfect spot was right on Neil’s shoes. A place you could not possibly reach without breaking the no-touch rule you have set for yourself. Just brilliant.

“So? Where do we turn?” Michael’s panicked voice broke through the paralysis.

Huffing, you checked the map. But it would not do without knowing your exact location. Fuck.

“One second” grudgingly, you turned your head to the right, doing everything not to lay your eyes on that blonde head.

Or the piercing blue eyes that landed on you. You were terrified of the coldness you could see there. Or worse, the indifference. But before you could dwell on those fears for much longer, Neil did the unexpected. He placed one of the gloved hands on your forearm, stopping any movement you intended. That was enough for you to face him. And feel close to tears again.

“I’ll get it” he leaned down and retrieved the tablet “There you go” placing it in your lap you were shocked by the tenderness of his gestures.

If anything, after that argument, you expected him to never willingly touch you again. But then, supposedly, he was conflicted. Enough. Shaking off the dangerous hopefulness, you muttered:

“Thanks”

After that, you have managed to direct Michael onto the right tracks again. Only when your SUV arrived with a halt in front of the building, you had to face your new reality. Because neither you nor Neil were paramilitaries, you were told to stay at the back and only enter the space after a signal from the team. You have fucked up while exiting the car, stumbling due to the overwhelming tension and nerves. Of course, Neil noticed that, shooting you a worried look. For a moment, you wanted to scream at him, yell, burst into tears or do anything else that could show the extent of what he has done. But that would be humiliating. So you met his gaze with defiance, as though trying to say: I’m bigger than this. Bigger than you.

“Everyone ready?” Ives’ voice brought you back to the moment “On my signal” he extended a hand and then motioned for the squad to begin the action.

You watched as they broke through the door to the compound and dealt with the mercs inside. The building itself was rather mundane, with a fence separating it in half. Inversion technology more than likely. It had access to the port dock as well. After a few audible salves from the rifles and a yell, you got an ‘all clear’, saving you from the awkwardness of being stood next to Neil. Surging forward, eager to enter the building, you got stopped by a strong grip on your arm. You turned sharply only to meet those damned blue eyes looking back at you with determination:

“Let me go in first” not exactly a plea, more a command.

You have never been more grateful for the layers of clothes separating his touch from your skin. Otherwise, you could never find the spark to light the anger once again.

“Neil-” he rushed to interrupt you, but you kept talking, “I know that you’re desperate to make my life a living hell, but believe me when I say that I can handle myself” you shook off the hand still wrapped around your arm “I don’t need you” you threw all the leftover passion and fury into those four words.

For a second, Neil looked shocked. As though your outburst caught him by surprise, and he did not know how to deal with it. But then he scoffed:

“That’s-”

Somehow you knew where he was going with this.

“A lie?” you interrupted him sharply “Maybe” meeting his eyes, you shrugged casually and stormed off into the building.

If he was allowed to lie, so were you. Even if to show him that he had not won.

Could the day get any worse? The moment you marched into the room, you knew the answer to the question. A turnstile, proving window, one side tinted red, the other blue. All too familiar at this point. Space was in disarray after the storming of the building. Instantly you spotted TP, hunched by the wall, as though in shock. Glancing at the other side of the room, you could see a woman in an elegant two-piece suit. Kat, Sator’s wife that Neil told you about. She was collapsed in the chair. The bullet hole in the glass was a giveaway. You flinched. An inverted round was a messy wound to deal with. As you stared, Wheeler and Michael joined Kat on the other side:

“She’s been shot” the female paramilitary shouted to Ives.

“Get her this side” he ordered, looking around the space, collecting information, taking control of the situation “Was she shot with an inverted round?” he asked TP, and you were struck by the look on Ives’ face.

Of course. He has not seen a younger version of his boss before. To him, the man was dead. You shuddered, almost missing the moment when Neil entered the room.

“This is Ives. He’s one of us-” before you could perceive the movement, TP stood up and grabbed Neil’s shirt, pinning him to the wall.

Fuck. Your heart sped up, soaking the tension that instantly permeated the room.

“Us?!” putting Neil in a chokehold, TP spit out the words, “Who are these guys?”

From where you were stood, you could see the utter panic and anguish in Neil’s eyes. This was off the script. TP was not supposed to know and yet you had no clue how else he could be placated. Despite everything that happened in the last hour, you could feel your heart cracking in sympathy for Neil.

“Priya’s. Ours” his voice was hoarse from the grip on his throat.

That answer was as good as any. You were silently praying the boss will accept it, move on, let the farce continue. But then he spotted you, stood on the side. Shit. You knew he recognized you from the way his dark eyes flashed. More confusion, and then anger. Neil’s eyes darted to you too. Panic and desperation.

“What is she doing here?” TPs question made you both snap your attention back to him “You lied about her too”

Somewhere on the periphery of your vision, you could see the squad deal with Kat. Only Ives seemed frozen in the spot, watching the confrontation with wide eyes.

“She’s my... She’s-” Neil’s stuttering made you stare at him in shock.

My? My what?

“Yeah? Who is she?” before you could dwell on it for too long, TP’s cold eyes turned on to you again “Who are you?” the simple question made your blood turn cold.

Sighing, you came up with the only answer possible:

“I’m one of you. Same as Ives and the squad” you meet the gaze of the man in question “Same as Neil” the blue eyes were trained on you with a strange emotion visible.

“So you lied?” you could hear the remorse in TPs voice.

“I had to” shrugging, you smiled sadly, unable to meet his gaze for any longer.

You could hear the breath he let out then. Defeated and disappointed. It hurt, and you could only begin to imagine how did it feel for Neil. But it was not the end…

“How did Sator know about the ambush?” the stronger hostile edge in TPs voice made you flinch.

“Posterity. An ambush on the streets can’t stay out of the record-” the strain in Neil’s voice made you look up again.

You were shocked by the deepening horror in his eyes. This was bad. You wanted to explain everything, all the reasons why you were forced to lie. Forced to depend on half-truths you despised so much. But you could not.

“Bullshit! He knew every move we made! Somebody talked, was it you?!” the accusation was thrown with surgical precision.

Looking at them, seeing the way Neil winced as though he was slapped, you felt faint again. He broke your heart earlier, but this was unimaginable. Slowly, you felt the resolve to hurt him back crack under the pressure of the situation. It was replaced by the wish to touch him again. To give him comfort in any way you could. Even if it would mean absolutely nothing to him.

“No…no” the stuttering in Neil’s answer only increased the feeling.

Christ. Almost unconsciously, you took a step forwards in their direction. This had to end.

“At every stage, you’ve known too much. I’m going to ask you again. Did you talk?” TP kept the chokehold strong, making the blood drain from Neil’s face.

You were close enough to try to grab TP now. But one stern look from Ives made you freeze. He approached them cautiously:

“Nobody talked. They’re running a temporal pincer movement” the reluctance in Ives’s eyes was new.

None of you expected the situation to go this way. Glancing around, you could see the squad help Kat with certain hesitation in their movements. First, you and Neil arguing, and now this. God knows they needed a rest from tension and conflict.

“A what?” the confusion in TPs eyes was palpable.

Only in moments like this did you remember that this was not exactly the man who chatted to you over dinner about the algorithm mere months ago.

“A pincer movement. But not in space, in time. Half his team moves forwards through the event, he monitors them, then attacks from the end, moving backwards. Knowing everything” you could see hints of frustration in Ives’s eyes as he explained the term.

It must have felt strange to go back to the basics with the man wearing the face of one’s boss. And not only the face but also the voice, the mannerisms were all there. Making this TP seem like a clueless stand-in for the original.

“Except where I stashed the plutonium” his statement drew your attention back to the scene.

He seemed to consider his options quickly, with a certain degree of remorse in his eyes, before letting go of Neil.

“Which isn’t really plutonium, is it?” the inquisitive look was focused on the blonde man.

You saw Neil shift nervously, smoothing the wrinkled shirt fabric and taking a deep breath that he has been denied for the past few minutes. You too felt as though a weight has been lifted. At least he wasn’t being choked…

“I told you it’s what he’s after” the conflict visible in the blue eyes made you stare at him longer “And you just told him where it was” Neil was disappointed.

You realised that you nearly forgot about the actual reason for the Tallinn mission. 241, the last part of the algorithm that you could still take hold of. Well, apparently, not. A knot tightened in your stomach.

“I lied”

What?

“Jesus…” Neil swallowed hard, looking across the room at Kat on the stretcher “You lied about it?” the bitterness in his voice made you follow his gaze.

The woman was bleeding out on the gurney, scowling in tremendous pain. Your heart broke for the tenth time. No one deserved agony like that. Let alone an innocent woman, unfortunate to have married a monster. None of this was her fault yet looking at the grim countenance of Henrik you knew that she was likely to die because of it.

“He couldn’t verify from inside the room he’d have shot her anyway. Lying is a standard operating procedure” the matter-of-fact tone of TP’s voice made you stare at him with disbelief.

Surely he couldn’t be serious?

“Standard operating procedure?” Neil muttered, making you look at him again.

For a moment, your eyes met. TP has joined Ives by the stretcher, and in a second, it seemed like it was just you and Neil suspended in the space. You could easily read him now. The pain, conflict, and worry in his eyes made your head spin. None of it made sense. Most of all, the way he gazed back at you hopelessly, as though unable to tear his eyes away. He was not like that familiar stranger that shattered your heart on the Estonian highway an hour ago. But neither was he the man you considered your lover. This was something else, someone unsure of anything in his life. The resolve kept on crumbling, and all you wanted was to know his mind. To understand what was going on.

“It’s spread too far” the grave nature of Henrik’s voice made your frown deepen.

“Meaning what?” seeing the fear in TPs eyes, briefly you wondered about his attachment to the wounded woman.

He cared; that much was obvious. The only question was how much exactly.

“She’s going to die” Ives got straight to the point, increasing the tension in the room.

You wanted to have something to hold on to. But the only hand you could hold was unattainable. His dark countenance, enhanced by the red lights in the room, made the beauty especially striking. It was in moments like this that you remembered why Neil could be seen as intimidating. With the sharp cheekbones, dark irises, and clenched jaw, he was an object of awe.

“Can’t you- can’t you do something?” the panic in the eyes of your boss was a startling wake-up call.

“Can’t you stabilize inverse radiation by inverting the patient?” Neil spoke for the first time in a while, nothing but business.

For some reason, it was almost refreshing to see him back in action. You could only stare, watching the situation unfold.

“That takes days” Ives being the voice of reason, looked at TP sceptically. It did not work.

“Let’s go” your future (?) boss stared at you all with newly found motivation, pointing at the turnstile.

“We took control of this machine minutes ago. Before that, it was Sator’s” Ives sighed heavily, already tired of the situation.

You heard of this way of stabilizing the inverse radiation during training you knew that it would take a while. And there was no way of knowing whether they could be brought back then.

“How long will she live on this side?”

“Three hours, tops” the medic shrugged helplessly.

That was enough to light the fire within TP. His back straightened as he took the control back into his hands.

“I’m taking her through. I’m not going to let her die. I’ll take my chances out there”

“Chances of what? We’ve got no way of bringing you back” the skepticism in Ives’ voice made you smile in sympathy.

While you understood the wish to save Kat no matter the circumstances, it did not look doable. Or wise, for that matter.

“We find another machine” the blind conviction in TPs eyes was almost admirable.

If he only knew… It took you good few weeks to learn the locations of the turnstiles strewn across the globe. Nothing seemed close enough. Or feasible.

“A week ago? Where?” Ives articulated your thoughts with that sarcastic edge to his voice.

That was when you realised. A week ago. Turnstile. The two men with a gurney, running across the tarmac as you stared. The blue eyes that met yours across space. It was so simple.

“Oslo” you blurted out before thinking.

All three pairs of eyes snapped to you. Unconsciously, your gaze flitted over to Neil first. He looked shocked, staring at you intensely, trying to understand. Then it was TP with palpable confusion in his expression, mouth open as though he too was about to mention the Norwegian capital. Ives just looked unbothered as though he was certain you have lost your mind.

“That facility’s impregnable. It’s inside an airport security perimeter” he explained, plain and simple.

Maybe to him. Before you could open your mouth, a familiar cheeky tone pierced the silence:

“Mmmm… Not last week, it wasn’t” glancing at Neil, you saw the famous smirk grace his features.

At least that was still intact, you mused while letting yourself observe him a little longer. He caught your attention with a curt nod. Well done, at least he was impressed. But it seemed like TP was the one who liked your idea best. He gave you a small nod of acknowledgement before addressing everyone:

“We’re going in. You might as well help” that last quip, aimed at Ives, was received with a roll of the eyes and a huff.

All back to normal. Or almost normal, you remembered as Neil passed by you on the way to the stretcher. The signal was clear. The boys were heading back to Oslo, and you wondered whether you could have time to talk. To try and make sense of what happened. On the periphery of attention, you could hear Ives introducing TP to the art of inversion (as you sometimes referred to the technology in the quiet of your mind). Taking your place next to Wheeler by the gurney you soaked in the look of surprise and uncertainty on the face of the boss. This would be his first inversion. You could only hope he will take it better than you did. At the memory of that afternoon in the courtyard, your cheeks warmed up. Your racing heart, Neil pressing your palm against his chest, prolonged eye contact interrupted by the unfortunate agent. Back then, you tried your hardest not to die from shame afterwards, wondering if it has not made you seem a fool in the eyes of the intriguing stranger. Now, knowing how it looked like from his perspective, you wondered whether he did not see it as a mistake.

“Let’s go” Ives’s command threw you out of the grim thoughts.

You helped the squad wheel the gurney into the turnstile, relishing in the familiar motion and sounds. In this whirlwind of a day, something as ‘simple’ as an inversion was almost a relief. This was recognizable. Everything else was not.

Exiting the machine on the other side, you met TPs wild gaze, as he kept on staring at you and then at the proving window, where your future selves were busy getting into the turnstile. You offered him a small sympathetic smile, the only comfort you could think of. As he joined Henrik at Kat’s side, you just watched, wishing you were useful somehow.

“How long does she need?” TP asked.

“4 or 5 days. A week to be sure”

“Figure out how to get us to Oslo” TP met Neil’s gaze “I’ve got to get back out there” you could see the surprise in those blue eyes.

A hand on your arm stopped you from listening to the conversation. It was Wheeler, evidently tired, annoyed, and conflicted. You could suppose that was the general mood among the squad:

“Can you help Henrik with her?” she asked tentatively as though unsure you were fit for the job.

“Yeah, sure” you nodded, glad to be given a task “Frankly speaking, I need something to do” you admitted while dropping your voice.

Wheeler gave you a shoulder squeeze and marched off, trying to get control of the squad. You approached Henrik, offering him your services as a provisional nurse. For the next few minutes, you were relatively at peace, occupied with the task. All you had to do was to pass him the needed instruments, disinfect the wound and make the process of field first-aid as smooth as possible. Despite not knowing Kat, you hoped she would make it. Henrik has assured you that he has seen worse but also that she may need a lot of luck. And that there will be a scar. You vowed to give the woman all the remains of good fortune you had.

The other advantage of the situation was the fact that you did not have to stress over the unfolding developments. From the corner of your eye, you could see Neil talk to TP and then to Ives. The word ‘container’ was mentioned. So that was their way of getting back to Oslo, you mused while passing the surgical suture to the medic. It most likely meant a whole week (or more?) of not only not being able to see Neil but also contacting him in any way. But maybe that was exactly what you needed…

“Wheeler, brief him” Ives walked over to you, looking completely done.

“What’s going on?” you asked while taking off the latex gloves.

You have finished the task. Now it was only a matter of getting Kat changed and the container ready for the weekly stay. You could see the team busily taking hold of the needed equipment and supplies.

“TP is heading out there. No fucking clue as to why” the squad leader answered your question with a shrug.

“I see…” turning around to the centre of the commotion you could see the boss putting on the mask.

Wheeler was giving him a summary of the effects of inversion and how to survive outside. But your gaze settled on Neil, taking hold of the various bits of equipment, lost in the madness of the moment. The ache in your chest was ever so persistent. The only thing you were sure of was that you had to talk to him before they left. Even if it meant another argument. Or definite rejection.

The moment you saw TP step out of the airlock the whole squad let out a breath. At least now, you did not have to watch your every move. All that proceeded was simple. Prepare the container, wheel in cots, food supplies, water bottles, oxygen tanks and masks, protective suits. You were given the job of assembling needed ammunition and artillery in case they ran into trouble. Handling the guns and bullets never felt quite this pleasant.

“Y/N?” Wheeler’s voice made you look up.

“Yeah?” you put down the Glock, looking around quickly.

You have found a secluded spot among the rows of containers. It was ideally placed because from there you did not have to see him all the time.

“You and Neil should talk” she eyed you pointedly.

She did have a point. Since you have exited the turnstile, you only exchanged two sentences. Both of them have been related to the type of gun Neil had on him. And even then, your usual dynamic was nowhere to be found. It was all strained voices, metres of space, and awkwardness that made you want to scream.

“That is assuming he wants to,” you noticed quietly, feeling the nerves come back.

“Maybe he shouldn’t be given a choice…” the implication in her voice made you think.

Tempting, but…

“Should I just go in there and make him talk?” you looked around the corner at the chosen container.

Just as you stared, Neil entered it, carrying some crates.

“You know him best” Wheeler’s comment made you frown.

“After today, I’m not sure I know him at all”

But maybe this was your chance… You hesitated, staring at the metal box, weighing your options. Gathering courage.

“Go. I’ll tell everyone to stay away for as long as it is possible” she whispered into your ear and joined the squad.

“Thanks” you muttered and took a deep breath.

You took off the protective helmet. Some used to dress up for the battle ahead, but you chose to make yourself more vulnerable. Smoothing the hair, you stopped right at the airlock made from foil. It was unzipped, and inside you could see Neil fumbling with some equipment. Suddenly he cursed under his breath as an oxygen tank rolled in your direction. That was the perfect cue. Without announcing your presence, you entered and picked up the cylinder. He turned with a question that died on his lips as soon as he realised it was you. Bloody brilliant. Meeting his intense, gaze you took a step forward, closing the space. Only when you were within reach, you dared to speak:

“Be careful with those” you handed him the tank with a small smile.

“Thanks” was all you got in return, as Neil turned back to whatever he was doing.

From how tense he was, you assumed he expected you to leave. Abandon any foolish ideas you could have had and ideally never speak to him again. Well, tough luck. You observed his chaotical movements for a beat before saying:

“Neil,” he somehow tensed up even more, “I think we should talk” you finished the sentence, studying him curiously.

His back was still turned to you. The hand with which he was trying to attach the tanks to the oxygen masks was shaking. And all because of you. Jesus. As the tears threatened to well up again, he muttered a response:

“I’m busy” it was that constrained voice again.

As though speaking to you was painful. Contrasting that with your recent phone calls, anger flared up within your heart. He owed you an explanation if nothing else.

“No, you’re not” you wrapped your hand around his bicep, ignoring the ache in the heart “Leave it” forcing him to face you “And just look at me” you met his gaze with newly found determination.

The conflict and anguish in his eyes shocked you. You could see him hesitate, fiddling with whatever he could get his hands on. And then he exhaled, defeated. Shifting, he perched on the edge of the cot, seemingly eager to hold that conversation, only…

“We already talked” the darkness in Neil’s eyes reminded you of the hostile face he showed on the highway.

The drastic changes in his behaviour were more than confusing. Glancing down to gather your thoughts, you could feel his gaze on you. Analyzing, examining, almost caressing if it was not for the lack of affection there. He truly was a stranger.

“That... that wasn’t a conversation,” you blurted out and raised your head again 

“I hoped that you’ve got enough decency to reject me in plain terms instead of whatever it was back there”

That sentence hit the mark. Neil’s eyes widened, mouth opened and then closed. He seemed paralyzed with the implication of your statement. You were unsure whether that reaction was better than him openly admitting that everything you had was a lie. You took a step closer, awaiting the inevitable. Now you were within an arm’s reach. Just in case.

“I don’t...” he tried and then gave up with a heavy sigh.

I don’t what? It was his turn to stare at the floor. Dragging a hand through the hair, he made the strands stick up. In the yellow light of the container, they looked almost golden. Your hand twitched, wanting to smooth them. You tightened it into a fist. That was not within your rights anymore. You could feel the emotions threatening to overspill at any moment. Forcing all the strength to keep the tears at bay, you spoke:

“I’m afraid you need to be a little clearer. Because what you’re saying and doing doesn’t make any sense” your throat tightened as though acting on its own accord “I’m just tired…” your voice cracked, and you breathed out the rest of the sentence “…of not understanding” a single tear trailed down your cheek.

Fuck. That was it for pretending to be strong. You let out a shaky exhale, trying to stop yourself from crumbling in front of him. When you felt Neil cup your cheek, your heart stammered. You raised your head, glad for the gloves separating his skin from yours. The heartbroken expression in his eyes was too much to take.

“See? This doesn’t make sense” you whispered, encircling his wrist with your hand.

Once your fingers made contact with his bare skin, Neil gasped and shivered. More confusion. Touching his pulse point, you could feel the rapid heartbeat. Suddenly, an idea struck. If words were not working, then maybe… One look at his tired face made you decide. You took another step forward. His knees were touching your thighs now. Your proximity made him look up at you with bewilderment. The feeling only deepened when you took one of his hands in yours and undid the Velcro strap around the wrist. Then with a swift motion, you slid off the glove and placed it next to him on the cot.

“What…” Neil swallowed hard when you brushed your fingers over his knuckles “What are you doing?” the uncertainty in his voice strengthened the conviction.

Maybe he did not love you, but this still meant something.

“I wanted to hold your hand” without waiting for him to respond, you got rid of another glove “And to make you more comfortable” you met his gaze, shrugging.

There was something almost endearing in him at this moment. The blue eyes tinted with confusion, brows furrowed, lips parted. Hair falling into his eyes. The wrinkled shirt and the vest that was undoubtedly your very next target. Finally, the now bared hands folded awkwardly in his lap. You focused your attention on them, taking both palms into yours and tracing the tracks of his veins up the forearms. The goosebumps in the wake of your touch encouraged you to say:

“You were right about some things, you know...” looking into his eyes, you added, “If that means anything to you” you knew he caught on to the meaning because of how his cheeks turned red.

Could that be shame? Surely not. You intertwined your fingers with his, pressing your palms together, reveling in the familiarity of the feeling. It felt like a stolen moment. Something that is about to come crashing down at any moment. And yet, you could not let it go. There was still so much you wanted to do if it was the last time. Neil had no answer for you, however. He was watching you wearily, guarding you from seeing more than he wanted you to. Using his moment of reverie, you released his hands and reached around his waist for the vest straps. That was enough to wake him up.

“What the hell?” the startled blue eyes met yours.

With how close you were, your arms still wound around his waist, touching the buckles, his nose brushed over yours. It was too easy to lean in. Despite everything that he has done, the pull was still there. And so, you gave in, leaving a sweet kiss on his lips, undoing the straps at the same time. He was too shocked to react at first, staring at you. Utterly speechless. Some things never change. You took a half step back, taking out the gun and the radio from the pockets of his vest and then taking off the article itself over Neil’s head. Only once that was done, he spoke:

“Thought you wanted to talk” the spite in his voice was tangible.

And yet, as your brain helpfully noticed, he was not stopping you. He has not pushed you away. Not even now when you allowed yourself to invade his personal space. It was as though in practice, nothing has changed, but at the same time, everything has. You gave him a quick once-over and rested your hands on his knees. Simple intimacy.

“I’m the only one speaking, and I’ve had enough” shrugging, you met his gaze with nonchalance.

Using the newly found dynamic, you slid your hands higher, up the thighs. Feeling the muscles tense in the wake of your touch. There was something strange in his eyes. A hint of the passionate darkness you were used to but tainted with apprehension. And boundless struggle.

“But… why this?” he raised his hands helplessly “I’m really not in the mood” Neil looked at you sternly.

Fair enough. Lifting your palms from where they rested on his thighs, you put them on his shoulders instead. Smoothing the wrinkles in the shirt, toying with the collar. Something in his eyes shifted. The sudden softness made the pain in your chest worse. The words you tried to swallow got stuck in your throat. It was as though after this mess of a day you could no longer pretend. Not when you were alone with Neil. Not when he was looking at you as though you could be the solution to every trouble in his universe. And you had no clue why.

“As I said... you were right” you smiled nervously before confessing, “I want you”

It was simple enough to say. Suppose when one has nothing to lose, it doesn’t matter anymore. Neil’s reaction to your admission was to be put on the long list of confusing things he did. He leaned forwards and pressed his forehead against yours. Breath ghosting your lips as he asked:

“… why are you saying this now?” the hesitancy in his voice only made the feeling stronger.

You knew that there was no question of ending this moment without confessing too much. He broke your heart with ease, but he was your everything. And those feelings were hard to ignore. You met his eyes without holding anything back and touched the tie delicately.

“Suppose I’ve lost my mind” was as good an explanation as any “Can I?” you asked for permission while loosening the knot.

“Might as well” Neil nodded, and you took off the tie, placing it along with the rest of the garments.

Then you undid the first two buttons, letting your fingertips ghost over his neck and shadow of the collarbone visible underneath the material. Neil sighed and put his hand on your waist, keeping you in place. Nothing made sense anymore. It was as though after the drama of the highway and the confrontation with TP, he did not know what he wanted. You still mattered to him. But that did not explain the things he said. Or the sudden switches in his behaviour when he seemed so distant and cold. At once, you wanted to shake him, to demand answers, and to keep on touching him, exploring the familiar angles and letting yourself get lost in the moment.

“This break might do us good” he broke the silence, making you look up.

Straight into the blue eyes that always sucked you in. It was not different this time. Another confession was on the tip of your tongue. This time there was no passion to blame it on. Nothing stopping you from jumping off that cliff and falling to demise. Just you and him, bathed in the yellow light of the container. Too close for people who had nothing keeping them together.

“If you say so” you muttered and took a deep breath “Neil, I-”

“No, don’t you dare” he interrupted you harshly before letting go.

A breach. But it was nothing. Only the more reason to say it. If truly everything was beyond saving, then why not? After all, it was there. Before he could stop you again, you spoke:

“I know that you don’t want me to… but, I love you”

It was like ripping off the band-aid – sharply, with no hesitation and dealing with the ghost of pain afterward. Neil looked as though you punched him. Fuck. You knew it was a mistake, but his answer was certainly not what you expected.

“Christ… you’ve really lost it” he sighed before looking at you calculatedly “All that talking about how much those words mean to you and now-” you dropped your hands from his shoulders and slapped him across the face.

Why? Maybe hoping it will wake him. Make him admit what you once believed to be obvious. But it was all a lie. The pain was almost unbearable. The mess of thoughts and feelings making you sway as you stared at Neil. He gazed back, for once completely stunned. That was enough to find the needed words.

“And now I wasted them on the wrong person? Yes, I’m aware” you let out a bitter laugh, feeling the situation dawn on you.

You confessed the truth without anything influencing the choice, and he turned it back on you. You were the stupid one. Guilty of falling for the wrong person once again. Sentenced to live through the heartbreak while Neil would walk free, unbothered. His heart was intact, guarded heavily against the inconvenience of your love.

“It’s not what I meant” Neil’s words broke through your thoughts.

He stood up, defensive and shaken. As though he had the right. The anger burning through your veins made you advance on him again, closing the distance until there was barely half a meter of space between your bodies.

“What then?” you looked up at him, spitting the words in his face “What did you mean?”

“I… don’t know” the restraint in his eyes made you furious.

“Fuck’s sake…” cursing, you placed a hand on his chest over the heart, feeling the rapid beat.

You have had enough. Acting on the most primal of instincts, you crashed your lips into his. Fueled by the anger and desperation, you started kissing him hungrily. He did not belong to you, but you were willing to show him the extent of your recklessness. Tugging at the lower lip, you groaned into his mouth, feeling him tense up beneath your palms. Just when you were sure he was going to push you away, Neil’s hand wrapped around your waist and pulled you flush against him. He opened his lips, letting you deepen the kiss and allowing your tongues to begin the dance. You were furious, upset, and careless. That was enough to give you the courage you have never had before. Biting down on his lower lip, you felt Neil pull you even closer as though he wanted you to melt into him. You tugged sharply on his shirt collar, forcing him to bow down ever so slightly. Tangling the free hand in his hair, you drew out a moan. It only got louder as you burst the blood vessel, piercing the thin skin on his lip. The coppery taste tainted the kiss, waking up a stronger desire. You wanted all of him. Everything at once. Sucking on the split skin, drawing blood from the cut, your soul was set alight with the need for Neil. He gasped when you licked over the damage done and leaned back. His wild, dark gaze was the only sign needed to continue. You pushed him back until his legs hit the cot, and he was forced to sit down. Entirely at your mercy.

Undoing another two buttons on his shirt, you kissed him again. His hands traveled to your hips, pulling you even closer to stand between his spread legs. Breaking the contact after a long, slow kiss, you assessed your work. Messed up hair, swollen lips tinged with blood, eyes hazed with want. Not yours. Ignoring the growing ache in your chest, you kissed the sharp edge of his jaw, sucking on the skin, making him shudder. Then your lips moved south, exploring all of his neck and throat. Making sure not to leave a mark this time but still hoping Neil will understand. His hands roamed across your body, unable to find anything uncovered in the protective suit. A frustrated whine he let out when your teeth grazed over his collarbone made you stop and look at him. Seeing despair in his eyes, the breath caught in your throat. How could he not feel anything back? Swallowing the panic, you ran your hands over his chest, feeling different muscles beneath the material. Then you let your palms settle on his sides, just above the belt, and you picked up the exploration, lightly biting the skin near his pulse point. In response, Neil shivered and pulled you closer, bucking his hips into yours almost uncontrollably. You wanted him to do it again, to feel something. Anything. Even just that pure want that had nothing to do with love. You captured his lips, everything but tender and slow. It was chaotic, breathless, carnal in how you did everything to get a reaction. And it worked. Neil broke the kiss, gasping for breath, leaning his head on your shoulder.

“Christ…” he breathed out, hands secured onto your waist.

Nudging your nose with his as a means of a break, you spoke:

“If you want me to stop, tell me, and I will” you met his eyes with certainty.

Then, not letting a single precious moment go wasted, you kissed his temple. Leaving butterfly touches on the cheekbones and over the eyelids, ending with a gentle nibble of the earlobe.

“N-no” the tenderness made Neil stutter, increasing the deluge of affection in your heart.

You realised that if he asked, you were ready to give him everything. No matter the fact that he did not feel the same. You were his, and that was unchangeable. At least for the foreseeable future. With the infatuation burning through every single cell in your body, you kissed the skin beneath his ear, getting lost in the sounds he let out. If he was unwilling to give you anything else, you had to take what was there. Even if it meant nothing. As though Neil was reading your mind, he made you stop, squeezing the hand that was stroking his chest. You met his gaze cautiously:

“I can’t say it back” Neil whispered as though ashamed to admit it “Not like this”

But you knew. It was nothing new. Shaking your head slightly, you gave him the best smile you could muster.

“I know you don’t love me” placing hands on his shoulders, you noticed the denial in his eyes “But it doesn’t change anything” you shrugged and closed the distance again, “I’m still here” the last word was placed on his lips ardently.

He responded with a kiss, bringing you closer with one hand tangled in your hair. The familiarity of the moment and the terrifying implications of it all were both responsible for the tears that started falling then. The salty undertone of the next kiss was more than appropriate. Lost in the moment, neither of you noticed the footsteps:

“I’m sorry, but it’s time” Wheeler’s voice made you stumble a step away.

Blushing, you met her gaze across space. You were sure she saw enough to understand how the conversation went. Hurriedly, you brushed the tears away, acutely aware of the other pair of eyes fixed on you.

“What happened?” Neil’s hoarse voice broke the silence.

“They set his car on fire. He’s in hypothermia” you inhaled sharply at the news “You should get going” with that, Wheeler left.

For the last time, you glanced at Neil. The perfectly ruffled golden hair, flushed cheeks, dark intense gaze, partly unbuttoned shirt, hands idly folded in his lap. The object of your utmost desire and love. Beautiful, elusive, like a masterpiece that is meant to be admired but never owned. There was nothing left to say. Nodding formally, you picked up the helmet and left before the pain could get any worse.

*** There was not much time to think, as TP and Kat were packed into the container. You were busy checking everything was ready for their journey until the very last moment. When Neil zipped up the foil and motioned for Ives to close the outside door, you felt the sting of tears. That was it. And you did not even say goodbye.

The feeling got worse when Ives turned to you then, digging something out of his pocket. Without a word, he placed a set of keys on your palm:

“What’s this?”

“Neil told me to give it to you. In case he couldn’t come back with us” the leader shrugged “Before all this” he added upon your inquisitive glare.

“Right” you swallowed, feeling worse than ever.

“They’re for his London apartment. I suppose he wanted you to have them” he walked off, leaving you with the problematic set clasped in your fist.

Brilliant.

[moonlit-imagines]

Headcanons for being Tony Stark’s Daughter (The Intense Years)

Tony Stark x daughter!reader

warnings:

a/n: y/n is 16-17, also ive really never written anything about team iron man so this was weird, someone needs to tell me i dont need every single movie detail in here

prompt: takes place from cacw and smhc

The Early Years (1) The Teenage Years (2) The Aftermath (4) Continued (5)

after the events in sokovia, you set up the relief fund for displaced sokovians and dealt with physical clean up while the avengers...

well, they had to deal with the press—and the governments of the world

getting to know your new suit AI, JOSHUA

briefly looking for bruce; no luck there

you ended up doing the MIT september foundation presentation with tony

and ending the presentation after pepper’s name popped up on the screen

“it’s probably best we get out of here”

you were his entire support system while he was going through his break with pepper

meeting charles spencer’s mother, who really gave your dad a piece of her mind

“my son died, but your daughter gets to live on. if you lost her, maybe you’d show some sympathy for murdering my child”

*awkward silence from you*

*awkward silence from tony otw to the compound*

HATING the sound of the sokovia accords, yet understanding why they’re being ratified

being torn between signing them or not and having a huge argument with the other avengers

“y/n, why dont you listen to your dad for once and sign the damn thing”

“uncle rhodey, you know why i dont want to sign. if they have us, they have access to our suits. you really think the UN should be telling us how to use them?”

“your defense doesn’t even make sense. i had the war machine or iron patriot or whatever the hell you want to call it, but the military was calling the shots”

“and look where you are now”

“right, well i wouldn’t expect a kid to understand”

“are you kidding me, rhodes? you’re gonna play the ‘im older than you’ card?”

comforting wanda while she feared being taken

and as soon as you heard about what happened in lagos

“think about it, maximoff. if you didnt do what you did, do you know how many more casualties there may have been?”

“but i killed innocents”

“no, rumlow killed innocents. you contained that blast better than anyone else could have and you prevented a whole bunch of deaths, give yourself some credit”

okay, so you weren’t the best at talking someone down while they were upset

staying in berlin with your father while the whole bucky thing began to get sorted out

but he sent you out to stay with nat while he had some “private time” with steve

tony keeping you close to him during the power outage at the base

until it turned out you brought your suit and tony did not!

everyone was looking at you to take down bucky, but it just seemed like a bad idea, you didn’t want to hurt him because you didn’t want to hurt steve

stalling to try and buy steve time to subdue his friend

“y/n, come on, for christ sake!”

“got it, dad! i know what im doing!”

“i dont think you do!”

feeling your stomach drop when bucky shot into your dad’s hand, if it wasn’t for his latest invention, he may have gotten seriously hurt

you had a slight change of heart after that, you couldn’t bare to lose your dad. not after all those close calls...

getting yelled at by secretary ross and the wonderful 36 hour ultimatum you, nat, and tony received

“i have a plan”

“don’t say the spider boy”

“fine, i wont say it”

a nice trip to queens :)

when this parker kid finally got home, tony left you to socialize with his aunt

small talk is sometimes unbearable

“so, what’s it like being tony stark’s daughter?”

“honestly? im always tired”

peter becoming a tagalong on your mission, which you didn’t really think was appropriate

“dad, i dont really think we should’ve brought the kid...”

“why? you’re about the same age as him, its not much different”

“um...no, i meant this isnt his battle. i don’t care how old he is”

face off between tony and cap where you literally just swallowed all your pride and apologized because you couldn’t handle the fact that the team was being ripped apart like this

team ups with Spider-Man

“so, uh, do you hate me or something?”

“hey, kid? we’re kind of in the middle of something, i’ll get back to you on that”

“it’s a yes or no question, y/n”

“pass”

so, things didn’t exactly go as planned...

your (former) teammates were taken to the RAFT and you couldn’t pull it together in front of them

they were pretty pissed at you

“im sorry, im so sorry, i should’ve done better”

they ignored you (up until scott lang)

“all you stark’s are the same”

“stay out of this, bugboy”

taking to the remote hydra base in another famous father/daughter teamup

“just like the old days, right kiddo?”

“i guess so”

“hey, cheer up, it’s not all that bad”

waltzing right in there to meet your friend and foe

seeing the video of your grandparents dying

*being killed

absolutely stunned by seeing such a gruesome thing

even after all you’ve seen, this really got to you

you were robbed of ever meeting them, which made you angry, but you couldn’t stay angry because there were so many things out of everyones control

realizing that this was a good time to hold tony back

“JOSHUA, lock down y/n’s suit. protocol: baby gate”

apparently your dad still had some old protocols in your suit that you hadn’t found yet

“JOSHUA? reboot! override protocol: baby gate”

“i’m sorry, miss y/n, but i cannot do that”

watching your father attempt to get revenge

and get critically injured

simultaneously working on opening the suit back up for a bad plan

finally getting the emergency release and stumbling out of your suit, rushing towards the conflict and throwing yourself in the middle of it

“please, dad. enough damage has been done.”

“y/n, get out of the way”

he saw you shaking and crying and he realized what he was doing

attacking the only family you guys really had

getting shoved out of the way so that they could end this fight once and for all

JOSHUA finally rebooting and bringing the suit over to shield you while you helplessly watched the end of this fight

when bucky and steve left, your suit disarmed and you crouched down beside your father

“come on, let’s just go home”

“im sorry”

“i know, it’s okay”

trying to comfort your dad after his defeat

you picked up cap’s shield and returned to your suit, it was time to go home

after a brief time of recovery (while you helped work on uncle rhodey’s prototype prosthetics), there was a slight change of plans for you

“okay, so for your punishment after what you pulled during my...divorce with cap, you’re going to babysit the spiderling so you gain some perspective”

“hold on, what?! what do you mean ‘perspective?’”

“i mean you dont know what it’s like to be in charge of the life of a teenager, so now you get to find out! congratulations on your promotion!”

it was not fun at all because peter kept blowing up your phone and you kept having to tell him there was nothing for him to do

Y/N: I’ll let you know when there’s a spider-level threat, kapeesh?

P. Parker: Yes, ma’am, sorry.

peter going behind your back to do some “superhero work”

and you having to swoop in to fix everything last second

“come on, you stole my thunder, y/n!”

“no, peter, i saved your life. next time you have a lead, call me first”

and then he didn’t 😌✨💕

“Y/N, incoming call from ‘big fat meanie’”

“put him through, JOSHIE...hey dad, how’s dubai?”

“taking care of a kid is harder than it looks, isn’t it?”

“don’t start with me”

damage control ahahah 🤡

“peter, why cant you just call me in? you don’t stop texting me for months but for this you go radio silent? you almost died. and you put a bunch of lives in danger! do you want me to have to go to your aunt and tell her you died?”

“im sorry! i just...i dont want to be a sidekick”

“kid, you’re gonna have a long time to make a name for yourself...but not if you’re dead!”

he started crying and you were very uncomfortable so you tried to hug him? it helped.

letting him off easy (just like your dad did to you growing up)

but apparently tony came back and took the suit anyways and you were pretty pissed about it

avengers moving day :) yes, part of your punishment was helping happy with moving day and hearing him gush about how you were “growing into such a responsible adult”

“happy i dont know if you noticed but ive basically been an adult since i was 12”

“keep telling yourself that, kiddo”

seeing an explosion and immediately knowing it was peter

“i’ll see you later, happy, love you!”

investigating the crash site and whaddaya know, there’s peter and his first bad guy, you were kind of proud

“peter, you okay?”

“nope!”

“okay, cool”

more damage control lmao (a/n: yall sick of damage control yet?)

a congratulatory call from your dad

“hey! you did pretty good, all things considered. why don’t you take the kid to the avengers compound for his special surprise?”

“aye aye, see you soon.”

“love you, kiddo”

“you too, dad”

quick fast forward to peter rejecting the position as an avenger while the press was outside, yes, you were surprised

but then your dad finally proposed to pepper, it was a pretty cool engagement announcement

“y/n, will you be my maid of honor?”

“duh!”

happily ever after (a/n: until the next part is up)

[samanthalightning]

She's Got A Date-EoWells X Allen!reader- Part V

*The GIF is not mine. All rights to the owner*

Part IV

Summary: While you face a relationship dilemma, you must help Barry stop The Mist from coming after your adoptive father. Based on 1x03

Warnings: None

***

You submerged your face in the water on your hands. The coolness temporarily eased the sting in your eyes. You turn off the faucets, you grab some tissues and dab them on your face to dry. You stared at yourself in the mirror; you were starting to look fine. The puffiness of your eyes ease, your eyes are still bloodshot red, but it was better.

It had been hours since that fight happened, and you have washed your face for the hundredth time today. Each time you think about it, you cry despite trying hard not to, and lucky you, it's all you can think about.

You reapplied your lipstick and mascara, and left the restroom. You walked down the hallway to come back to the cortex. You rounded a corner, but your feet quickly halted when a figure popped up to avoid collision.

It was him. You both froze, staring at each other. He could have swore, he saw a flicker of hurt and coldness in your eyes, before you lowered your head down when his stare became intense. This wasn't the first you crossed paths today. It's his building and you work here, though it didn't mean it got easier. It's always awkward and uneasy.

He didn't speak or move, so you figured you would be the one who needs to do it.

"Excuse me," you whispered, walking ahead passing by him.

"Y/N, wait." You stopped in your tracks and formed a fist. Although you didn't turn around. "We need to talk,"

"We already did. There's no need to further discuss it and make it worse." You didn't dare let him respond, and walked away rapidly away from him, not skipping a beat until you reached the cortex.

You quickly took a seat beside Cisco and buried your head on the computer, typing as you finished a report. Your thoughts ran, a sudden furious rage boiling in your veins. You couldn't believe how ironic it is that earlier he didn't want to talk about it, and now he does. It just infuriates you so hard, so hard and murder him with your bare hands.

"Woah, woah, you okay?" Cisco's voice pulled you out of your spiral.

You paused, fingertips ghosting the keyboard. You didn't even realize you were typing audibly, angrily. "Yeah. Just itching to get our meta," you said.

"Okay. Whatever you say," he replied, obviously suspicious and not an ounce convinced. None of them were if you're being honest. Especially Barry. He was very concerned, but it occurred to him that this might be regarding your mystery boyfriend, so he reluctantly kept his distance.

Wells came back. You can feel his eyes boring at you. You pretended to be oblivious, but it bothered you. Deeply.

Abruptly, a ping coming from the computer echoed in the room. It was the analysis on the toxin. Cisco was quick to call Barry and Caitlin, who God knows where to come to the cortex immediately.

They arrived moments later.

"Yo, check this out."

You all huddled up in front of the TV, waiting for someone to explain the result.

"We have identified the toxin," Wells said, clicking the screen of his tablet. The analysis results popped up on the screen.

"Hydrogen Cyanide?" Barry's brows furrowed.

"Well, what's interesting is what mixed in with the cyanide— a sedative," he added.

Your head cocked to the side, confused more than ever. You're no Caitlin, but that sounded odd. Never in your life have you heard those chemical compounds being mixed before— hell, even in being in the same sentence.

You turned to Barry to ask. His demeanor changed from being in serious thought to his eyes lighting up in recognition. A hand flew to his forehead, turning to Caitlin.

"The night of the explosion— find out if anyone was executed," he ordered.

Caitlin nodded and headed to the nearest computer.

"Why?" Wells asked, beating you to it.

"That sedative was given to criminals on death row before they go into the gas chamber, and breathe in cyanide," he explained.

That was one hell of a fact.

"There was someone executed— Kyle Nimbus," Caitlin informed.

A tab of his background and records popped up. And yup, he does look like someone crazy. Bald, pale skin, huge bags under his eyes. Just add a crooked smile and he could be the missing son of the Grinch and Penguin.

"That's him," Barry confirmed.

"He was a hit man for the Darbinyan crime family. They turned on him and testified. Judge Teresa Howard was the judge at his trial. She sentenced him to death."

It makes sense why he was hell bent on killing these people. The irony of his life though. Karma really is a bitch.

"He said there's one more on his list. Check the arrest records; who caught him, that could be his next attack," he walked towards her, and you trailed after him, dumbfounded.

There was too much information all at once, and Barry's the only one who's putting two and two together as fast as he runs.

You watched as Caitlin's eyes widened in horror. Her face blanched, glancing up at you and Barry, as if she had seen a ghost. It made you a little worried and anxious. The pit of your stomach knotting, as you swallowed thickly. Whatever information she got a hold of isn't good.

"Barry, the lead detective..."

Your heart dropped. Your mind quickly thinks of one person: Joe. Your thoughts ran wildly. You refused to believe it's him.

"Cait, who is it?" You asked, shakily.

"It's Joe."

You let out a gasp, panic surged through you. It felt like the world collapsed, your worry escalating into another level.

Next thing you knew, Barry was on his cell, both of you pacing back and forth, while he tried to reach Joe. Each time he took his phone off his ear, not able to reach him, he grew more frustrated. And so were you.

"He's not answering,"

"Call Eddie, maybe he knows," you suggested.

He took your advice and dialled him. You held your breath, anxiously waiting for the end of the ringing noise from Barry's phone.

"Eddie!" You immediately moved to Barry's side. "Hey, do you know where Joe went? He's not picking up his cell."

You placed your ears near and listened carefully. He paused, then said he didn't know.

"Eddie, it's really important I speak to him. I need to know where he went." Barry pleaded, evidently desperate.

Eddie must have picked it up. You heard an audible sigh from him through the phone. Eddie said he's in Iron Heights. That must have been why he's not picking up.

"Thanks, Eddie." Barry ended the call, and went to the team. "He's in Iron Heights, he's in Iron Heights because of me,"

Your brows drew together. If the toxins results didn't make sense, so is Barry right now. "What? Why?"

"I'll explain later," he said, running off to Caitlin.

She developed an antidote from the toxin, in case Barry didn't make it in time to stop Nimbus. Barry put on his suit, and faster than a blink of eye, he sped off, leaving a red streak of lights behind and a gust of strong wind blowing through your hair.

You took a seat and behind a computer to do your designated job. You pray to God Barry gets there before Nimbus does.

"Barry, I pulled up the specs on Iron Heights prison with maximum security, but I think I can talk you through breaking in there," he said, as he took a seat beside you.

You chortled, shaking your head. Your brother is probably doing the same thing right now. Cisco looked at you confused and a little offended.

"No bother. I've been figuring out how to break in that place since I was 11,"

Damn right he was. He used to get in trouble with Joe because of that, and you'll get a warning to think twice before pulling the same stunt. Barry still continuously, persistently did it. Eventually, he got older and no one has to call Joe about a minor trying to sneak in to see his Dad.

In a snap, it dawned on you. That's what Barry meant. Your Dad was the reason Joe was in Iron Heights. As to why, you wondered. Joe never once visited the man; he strongly believes that your Dad killed your Mom, it doesn't make sense why he would want to see him after all those years.

Your thoughts were pushed in the back of your mind, seeing Barry was inside the prison. You all cowered in silence, anxiety prickling your very existence. Your heart beating fast like you ran a hundred miles, you fingers were trembling. You took them off the keyboard, and hid them under the desk, clenching and unclenching it repeatedly.

You tried to keep it together, itching to hear Barry's voice, saying Joe's fine. You already lost your parents, you can't lose another one.

You felt a warm, large hand on your formed fist, fingers wrapping it securely with a squeeze. Your head shot up to the man in glasses beside you, stunned. Not that you just had the biggest fight ages ago, but your colleagues are literally sandwiching the two of you.

He gave a soft, assuring smile. And you appreciated it deeply. You opened your palm, intertwining your fingers with his. The differences were set aside for a moment, as you hold on to him for dear life.

"Joe's stable," Barry spoke.

The weight on your chest was lifted off. You relaxed for a second only to be reminded that there's still a meta-human on the loose that desperately needs some ass-kicking.

According to Barry, Nimbus transformed into a mist again, and Caitlin advised him to stay away, do not breathe him I'm. As weird as that sounds, it was the only way to avoid inhaling cyanide, and he might not be so lucky again.

But it was very obvious that it wasn't easy; the man is literally air.

"Guys, I don't think this is helping me,"

"You can't fight him, Barry. Just..." Caitlin paused to think. "...keep him coming at you, that should sap his strength."

Wells nodded in agreement. "Yes. Gas is the least stable form of matter— this meta-human will not be able to stay in this mist form, his particles will need to reform."

Barry ran. He ran farther and farther away from the prison. He takes quick stops, before running again.

Your eyes peered over to Caitlin's computer to check on his vitals. His heart rate elevated a bit, but everything was fine. Although he wasn't updating or saying anything it's starting to worry you.

Wells, clearly worried, leaned over and grabbed the mic. "Barry?" He called him. There was only silence on the other end. "Barry?" He called again, louder and firmer.

"We win,"

You all sighed with relief. Your eyes fluttered close, as you lean back into your seat and roll your head back. You squeezed him, you looked at him as a grateful smile spread across your face.

Barry brought Nimbus to S.T.A.R Labs, and left to go to the hospital. You stayed behind to see how well you did with makeshift prison, and get some satisfaction by watching him go crazy to find a way out.

You stood by the entrance of the pipeline with the team, watching the door slide down in front of a very angry Kyle Nimbus, pounding on the glass, constantly morphing into gas to escape his cell. The dummy didn't actually think you'd seal it.

"So, we just have to get used to working above a makeshift prison," Caitlin commented.

"Yup," you replied.

It's surreal. You can't still quite grasp the fact that you built a prison, and it's weird to see someone actually imprisoned inside. He deserved it, yes, but it's still weird.

Everyone turned to shuffle back to the cortex. Cisco pulled Caitlin aside. It looks like they have something to talk about, and by the look on Cisco's face, it's probably serious.

Your eyes flickered to Wells, who was surprisingly staring at you too. You locked eyes, realizing things had wind down— Nimbus is apprehended, and no meta-human to worry about for the time being. You don't know what's going to happen, where you both stand; if the relationship still exists, but one thing is for certain: it was time to address it and deal with it.

He tilted his head to the side, gesturing to go outside, before leaving the room.

You followed him, trailing behind him in the hallway. You dreaded every step you took, you heart racing fast under your ribs, and for many times today, your stomach churned, nervous.

You didn't know where he was leading you. You never really wandered around this area. The hallway is like a never ending maze; just no twist and turns. It was long and quiet and dark. If he was some dude, you would think that he's luring you to kill you.

You were about to ask him where you both were going, but he stopped. You both stood in front of a door. Nothing special about it, just a door. He twisted the knob and opened it. He took a step aside to let you in first and you obliged.

The lights automatically turned on, shedding lights on the room contents. Shelves containing boxes and some other covered things lined up across the room. It's another storage room. The dust isn't disgustingly obvious yet, but it hasn't been touched in a while. Probably since last year.

"We have another storage room?" You raised an eyebrow.

"Yes. This was used when we were building the accelerator," he explained, closing the door behind him.

This is not the most ideal place to talk, but it's secluded and quiet and hidden. Given the fight earlier, all those three are a must.

You spun around to him, folding your arms, awkwardly waiting for him to speak first.

"So?" He started.

"So?"

He exhaled sharply, pursing his lips. "I thought about what you said, and..." He trailed off. A lump forming in your and you gulped in anticipation, watching him be lost for words. It was like those heart stopping moments in class just before your teacher passed your papers, scared of what your mark would be, except on this one, there's only two of you. This would not just affect the future, but potentially break your heart.

He stammered. " I don't— I don't want to lose you. I love you and you were right." Your mouth went dry. You were rendered speechless. Not a single word you could utter, staring at him in shock. You didn't expect that one. Scared that might not convince you, he added, "I mean it. I couldn't risk losing you."

Emotions barrelling through you. You kept it together, not wanting to broke down immediately.

"What about the press?"

"They'll leave us alone eventually," he answered.

"Your haters?"

He chuckled lightly. "They'll forget about it."

"And Joe?" The smile on his face faded, aware of the seriousness of that name.

"We'll deal with it. But I'm pretty sure he'll be happy for you,"

You lowered your head, looking down at your feet.

"Y/N?"

You glanced up, your demeanor stern as you looked into his eyes. "Are you sure? You might be just saying this right now, but you might regret—"

"The only thing I will regret is letting you walk away. I lost a lot of things last year, and I don't want you to be part of it. You mean so much to me,"

Your heart was cracked open. You were in awe of his declaration. Today was a tough one, and it will be on some days, but you certainly knew you would be a damn fool to let him go.

Although, it doesn't hurt to rile him up a bit. You maintain a stoic expression for a period of time, which ended very soon because you couldn't help it anymore.

"Damn it," you hissed.

You went to him, cupped his cheek and pulled his lips to yours. He responded quickly. His lips move passionately against yours, pouring all emotions into the kiss. Your stomach flutters in realization how vulnerable and raw this moment is. It was like he's opening up and he didn't have to say anything. Everything disappeared for a while. He clutched your arm, pressing you closer to this warmth.

You pulled away reluctantly, panting. You leaned your forehead against his.

"I love you," you whispered to him.

"I love you too,"

He drew closer to kiss you again, but you withdrew. You gritted your teeth, looking at him nervously.

"I think we should tell them tonight,"

***

Uh Oh. How do you think they'll react?

Anyway, I'd appreciate if you share this and give it love. Thanks!

Part VI

[sunmoonandeddie]

little ballerina (4/16)

pairing: peter parker x reader

word count: 2,669

summary: After The Snap was reversed and the world went back to normal, Natasha Romanov had one request of her team: to infiltrate and destroy the Red Room.

chapter warnings: Swearing.

masterlist

a/n:  Let me know what you think!

The next time you woke up, the pain in your body had subsided to a dull ache.  Your eyes fluttered open slowly to the soft light of the hospital room.  You moved your hands slightly, surprised to find that they weren't attached to the sides of the bed.  Instead, two metal bracelet-type things were around your wrists.  You felt in your gut that they had trackers on them and would prevent you from leaving... where ever you were.

Well.  Looks like you were going to have to play along with whatever game the people here were playing.

You slowly swung your legs over the edge of the bed, holding onto the IV as you stood.  The tile almost froze your feet as you completely stood up.  The ache intensified as you took a few steps and you ignored the thought of why you were feeling that ache.  Pushing past it, you walked towards the door, taking extremely slow steps.

"There's sleeping beauty," Tony said as he came into your line of vision, his arms crossed over his chest.  He had a warm smile on his lips as he stopped a few feet from you.  "You've been asleep for eighteen hours, you know."

Your eyes widened as you stood there.  "I...  What?"  You don't think you'd ever slept for so long.  Sometimes you only got two or three hours while you were training at the Red Room.

He waved you on, motioning for you to walk with him.  "Seemed like you needed it.  But I doubt that the hospital bed could've been that comfortable."  Shoving his hands in his pockets, he pointed towards a set of doors.  "We've got a room set up for you to move into tonight.  That is..."  Tony took a long look at you.  "That is, if you're not going to run again."  He seemed to want you to say something.  To promise that you weren't going to make a break for it.

As much as you hated if, if you were going to beat them at their own game, you'd have to do just that.  "I'm not going to run."  After a pause, you added, "I promise."

The older man seemed satisfied as he led you to the doors he had motioned to before.  You jumped a little in surprise as the doors opened automatically.  "Welcome, Tony Stark," an automated woman's voice said and you looked around for the source of it.  You knew about A.I.'s, of course, but nothing as advanced as this, apparently.

"That's just F.R.I.D.A.Y.," he said, waiting for you to follow him through the doors.  "This is where the Avengers live when we're at the compound."  Tony was pointing out the different areas: the kitchen, the living area, the private gym.  You were barely paying attention, focusing on possible hiding areas and escape routes.  "Everyone is most likely either in training or in their rooms.  We can head on up and I can show you yours."

You vaguely nodded, still pulling along the IV.  "Is there any chance there's a change of clothes upstairs?"

"Shit, I completely forgot.  You only had the hospital gown you were in at the Red Room when you came here."  Tony brings you into the elevator, hitting the up button.  It moved seamlessly and you almost asked if the elevator even worked before the door opened up to the second floor.  It was shaped like a circle, so that the elevator was in the center and the rooms surrounded it.

Tony walked over to a door back behind the elevator, opening it.  "This is yours for however long you're here."  He watched as you walked inside, taking it all in.  "I'm going to go find you a change of clothes while you look around."

It was massive.  You hummed as you fell onto the ginormous bed, practically sinking to the floor.  It felt like a giant marshmallow.  You don't think you'd ever had something so soft.  The beds back in the Red Room were like rocks.  They were meant for getting the minimum amount of sleep you needed to survive, not enjoyment.  There was no such thing as comfort or sleeping in, for that matter.

You stood up, dragging the IV along with you as you opened up a door that led into a massive walk-in closet.  "Why the hell do they need such big closets?" You asked yourself quietly.

"It comes in handy to have an array of clothes for missions.  You never know when you'll need to be black-tie ready."

You turned to see Tony standing there, holding a folded up pile of clothes.  "Really?"

He nodded, looking at the empty closet you were standing in.  "We'll get you some stuff to fill this thing up in no time."  The man then handed you the pile of clothes.  "There's leggings in there from Natasha and I managed to steal a sweatshirt from the laundry room.  There's undergarments from the go-bags that we keep for agents that need things for an extended stay."  He moved his hands in a weird, kind of awkward circle, like he wasn't sure how to exit the conversation.  "I'll let you get changed.  Feel free to shower and all that.  Just come out whenever you're ready.  The others should be getting back soon and we can all eat together."  Right before Tony leaves, he turns and points at you.  "Do you have preference for any kind of take out?  Chinese?  Mexican?  Thai?"

You simply shook your head and he nodded, mumbling to himself before shutting the door behind him.  You tugged the IV needle out of your arm with a slight wince.  Not like you really needed it anymore.  You then padded over to the private bathroom that was attached to your room.  Opening up the cabinet, you found it fully stocked with every toiletry you could ever need.  "Okay, but how do I turn this thing on?" You asked yourself as you stood in front of the shower, having decided against taking a bath in the giant tub to your left.

"May I be of assistance?" The A.I. person thing asked.

"Uh...  Yeah.  How do I turn this thing on?"  You looked up at the ceiling, once again looking for the source of the voice.  You couldn't even see speakers.

"All you have to do is say you want it on and what temperature you want to start off with.  You can change said temperature simply by saying 'hotter' or 'colder.'"

You frowned as the water came on, pouring like a waterfall from the ceiling.  It was much different from the rickety old dorm showers at the Red Room.  This, much like the bed, was built for enjoyment.  "Thank you, uh..."

"F.R.I.D.A.Y."

"Thank you, F.R.I.D.A.Y."

You took a quick shower, making it out it under five minutes.  It was the time limit at the Red Room.  Once out, you wrapped yourself in the fluffiest towel you've ever seen and pulled on the clothing that you had left on your bed.

By the time you left your room and went back down the elevator, the communal living area was teeming with these so-called Avengers.  You froze in your tracks.  You were suddenly extremely aware of how many eyes were on you.  Despite the fact that you were used to standing out at the Red Room, this was different.  After all, they apparently knew you, but you had no idea who any of them were.

"Y/N, we ordered Chinese," Natasha said as she slowly walked over to you from where she had been sitting at the bar with Bruce.  "I ordered you stir-fry vegetables, if that's okay?"  You nodded slightly, your teeth worrying your lower lip.  "Good.  It should be here within thirty minutes.  I hope you're hungry."  She then began to introduce you to the different people around you.  "This is Wanda, Thor, Vision, and Clint.  Over there..."  She pointed to the couch.  "That's Steve, Sam, Bucky, Peter, Rhodey, and Pepper.  And you already know Tony and Bruce."

You didn't even realize your hands were shaking until she reached down and grabbed one, squeezing softly.  Your eyes raised to meet hers and she smiled faintly at you.  "Why are you being nice to me?"

Her smile faltered, like she was surprised that you'd be so forward.  "Because..."  She paused.  She looked as though she was steeling herself for the conversation at hand.  "Because I was you."

"You were me?"

You pulled your hand out of her grasp and ignored the way she frowned as she continued, "I was trained in the Red Room.  Then after I graduated, I became the Black Widow.  Which, according to your file, you were about to become."

"Wait, how can there be another Black Widow?" Sam asked, taking a sip of his beer.  "I thought that was your name, Natasha."

The redhead scowled, her eyes rolling as she turned to him.  "The Black Widow is a female assassin chosen by the KGB.  Being chosen means that you're the best of the best."  She crossed her arms over her chest, her voice going monotone.  She had desensitized herself to it, you realized.  "There were two Black Widows before me.  The role has been empty since I left.  That is..."

"Until they chose me."  Your voice came out cold as you glared at her.  "You took me from Red Room without even bothering to ask what I want."

"Y/N...," Natasha whispered.

You shook your head, feeling your blood start to boil.  "You're just pissed that I'm better than you were.  I graduated at nineteen!  Not only did I survive, but I'm the youngest to ever make it through the program and become the Black Widow."

"We rescued you," Tony snapped.

You turned on him, practically shouting, "I didn't ask to be rescued!  I was where I wanted to be!"

"Really?" Wanda's voice drawled.  "You wanted to be alone and dying in an Academy that almost no one knows exist?"  She stood up from where she was sitting at the bar, Vision's hand dropping from where it had been holding hers.  "They saw us coming and they escaped, but they didn't bother to bring you along.  I can't blame them.  You were just out of surgery and bringing along someone like that is a liability.  They sterilized you like a bitch and then left you there to die."  You could feel something pricking your mind and for some reason, you knew it was coming from Wanda.  Her fists clenched by her side as you fought to keep her out of your mind.  "Is that what you wanted to be?  A dog to be left behind at the slightest inconvenience?"

For that...  For that, you had no answer.  You simply turned around, getting back in the elevator.  Once you were back in your room, you slammed the door behind you so hard that you were sure the people in the floor below you could hear it.  You wanted them to know exactly how much you didn't want to be here.  Fuck playing their game.

Tears pricked your eyes as you paced the room, eventually crawling into the bed and dragging the covers over you.  You didn't want to admit that Wanda was right.  It didn't matter how good you were, that you were at the top of all your classes.  After all, there's at least fifteen girls below the age of fifteen that could eventually grow to be just as good, if not better.

You were replaceable.

About thirty minutes or so later, you heard a soft knock on your door.  "Y/N?  It's Peter.  I, uh...  I, I have your food."

You wanted to ignore him, but the growling of your stomach stopped you.  You got up from the marshmallow they called a bed and unlocked the door.  You opened it just a crack, looking up to see the young man you had beat in the staircase standing there.  In his hands, he held several different Chinese take out boxes.

"Is it okay that I brought mine to eat with you?"

You didn't respond, only opening the door wide enough for him to come in.  You sat on the ground in front of the bed, pulling your knees up to your chest as he sat behind you on the bed.  He quietly passed you two take out boxes and a pair of chopsticks.  You two ate in relative silence, and for once, you were happy for the company.  The others...  They liked to talk.  Peter seemed to be able to sense that you needed quiet right now.

"Have they decided what they're going to do with me yet?"

Peter looked up in surprise, though you weren't looking at him.  "What?"

You sighed, leaning your head back against the bed as you set down the take out box.  "Are they going to throw me in a prison or just be done with it and execute me?"

"Why would they do that?"  He seemed genuinely confused as he waited for you to explain.

"Look..."  You ran your fingers through your h/c hair, your foot tapping rapidly from anxiety.  "I'm not going to join their team and I'm not going to tell them about the Red Room.  I'm useless to them.  To you.  You're one of them, after all."

Peter got down from the bed, sitting across from you and leaning against the wall.  "Is that what you think we rescued you for?"  You shot him a withering look, which he made a point to ignore.  "For one, Natasha went through the Red Room.  She already has all the information we need.  Two, we don't rescue people based on how useful they'd be to us."

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head at Peter.  "It's sweet, how naive you are.  But if Natasha had all the information you needed, then the Red Room would be destroyed and there'd be a lot more girls like me wandering these halls."  You grabbed the Chinese take out box, pushing the rice around inside.  "And I can assure you that those guys only keep people that are useful around."

"That's... very pessimistic."

You snorted, smiling down into your Chinese.  "It's realistic."

"Hey."  You looked up at Peter, who was digging back into his food.  "You smiled."

You felt a twinge of annoyance.  "I'm human, you know."

He nudged your foot with his.  "By the way, you look good in my sweatshirt."  Your mouth dropped open slightly as he stood up, smiling softly at you.  "You're welcome to join us downstairs.  If you feel up to it."  Peter stopped by the door.  "I promise that we're not going to throw you in prison.  Or execute you."

He seems sincere, you thought to yourself as you set the Chinese box to the side once again.  You were unsure.  You didn't know these people, for one.  Peter could be lying.  Though, something told you he didn't have the ability to lie that well.

You sat in your room for almost two hours before finally deciding that you were going to go back downstairs.  You were surprised to find everyone still downstairs when you got there, all curled up on the couch and watching a movie on the flat screen that seemed to have come out from the ceiling.  They turned to look at you as the elevator dinged, letting you out.  You were about to run back upstairs, unnerved by the way everyone stared at you, before Natasha patted the space in between her and Peter.  "Come on, Y/N.  You can sit by me."

You were a little shocked that she was willing to let you sit next to her, after what you had said before dinner.  But you walked over anyway, curling into a little ball in between the two spider people.  Glancing over at her, you tried to find something to say.  "I'm..."  You broke off, not sure if you could get it out.  "I'm..."

"I know," Nat insisted as her hand reached over and squeezed yours.

[the--sad--hatter]

Name Calling (10)

FANDOM - MARVEL MCU

PAIRING - BUCKY X READER (female reader, no physical descriptions)

WARNINGS - ALL OF THEM, SMUT, VIOLENCE ANGST.

DESCRIPTION -  In which the ongoing and bloody war of words between you and Bucky turns in your favor when a disgruntled one night stand of his lets slip a secret when you run into her in the elevator… Now you have all the ammunition you need to destroy your enemy but you don’t plan on killing him quickly. Oh no, Bucky Barnes was going to suffer and you were going to enjoy every second. You just didn’t count on how much you would enjoy it.

MASTERLIST

Chapter Ten - The Lies We Tell

A steady beeping pierced the air, rousing you from your sleep. You grumbled and reached out to find your phone without having to open your eyes so you could shut it up and go back to sleep but something grabbed your hand. Or rather someone. Everything came flooding back and your eyes shot open.

You wrenched your hand from Tony’s grasp and started frantically patting your chest.

“Whoa, whoa you’re alright. Calm down.” Tony assured you, grabbing your hands and making you look at him.

“I, but… I was. What’s going on?” You spluttered, your voice hoarse and croaky.

There were monitors and IV drips attached to you and you resisted the urge to claw at them, if Tony let them be put on you then you must need them.

He let go of your hands and held out a cup with a straw to your lips and you blinked. Water. That was a wonderful idea. You gratefully sipped at it and it soothed your dry throat.  You looked at him properly then. His skin was sallow, his eyes dark and tired.

“You were hurt, you’re in the med bay.” He explained.

“Then why do you look like the one who should be in this bed?”

“Well don’t tell anyone but I might have been slightly worried about you.” He joked.

You let out a huff of laughter.

“What happened?” You asked.

“What do you remember?”

“The mission. South Mexico. That’s the last thing I remember.” You said.

“That was three days ago. You got pretty banged up. you’ve been here since.” He explained.

“I… jumped off a cliff. I went full Vernichtung.”

“You did. There were Hydra agents scattered in the jungle, you stopped them from escaping. There was an earth controlling mutant on their side and she caused an earthquake that made the cliff collapse. You were hit by the rubble, just as you were coming back to yourself. It knocked you unconscious.”

“Ouch.” You muttered

“You should be fine now. You can’t suddenly speak French or anything though right?”

“J'ai appris à parler plusieurs langues quand j'étais enfant. Tant mieux pour conquérir le monde avec.” You snarked.

“Right you already spoke French. I knew that, I was testing you.” He covered.

“Bucky? Oh God Bucky was on the other cliff.” You remembered, sitting up in a panic and trying to get out of the bed.

Tony pushed you back down firmly but with care.

“Barnes is fine, not a scratch on him.” He muttered, irritation dripping from his tone.

You breathed a sigh of relief and looked him over again, noting how his eyes were rimmed red and he looked a little gaunt.

“You look like crap, I’m fine. You should get some rest.” You told him.

“So should you. Unconscious isn’t the same as sleeping.”

He was right, you did feel quite tired and as soon as you realized that a yawn broke free from your mouth and he chuckled.

“Get some sleep Kit Kat, you’ll need your energy for all your worried visitors in the morning.

You hummed gently in response and burrowed yourself deeper under the blanket, your eyes already closed. You felt a soft pressure on your forehead before Tony’s footsteps receded towards the door.

“Was it just my head?” You mumbled and he paused.

“What?” He said worriedly.

“I didn’t hurt my chest did I?” You asked sleepily.

“Why, does it hurt?”

“Hmm, no. Just feels like it should. Dunno why.” You muttered into the pillow and if he responded you didn’t hear it, you were already fast asleep.  

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The Avengers, minus Steve and Bucky were all congregating in on the couches in the common area, a film on the flat screen that none of them were paying attention too when Tony walked in tiredly. All heads snapped up to look at him as he made his way over to the bar, pouring himself a glass of scotch and draining it in one gulp.

“She’s fine. Doesn’t remember a thing after being on the cliff with Barnes.” He told them.

“Are you sure?” Wanda pressed.

“If she remembered what happened we’d know about it.” Tony pointed out unhappily.

“Are we sure this is the best thing to do?” Sam asked, yet again.

“If I may Interject? Whether or not we think this is the best thing to do is irrelevant, it has already been done. Turning back now would only cause more problems.” Vision said.

“He is right, what is done is done.” Wanda agreed.

“We have much more pressing concerns right now. Hydra have made an alliance with Docherty, which considering his agenda is worrying.” Natasha reminded everybody.

“I’ll add it to the list of secrets I’m keeping from my best friend.” Sam snapped.

“If you want to be the one to tell her that she slaughtered nearly 200 Nazi’s because they made a deal with her tormentor to try and capture her then be my guest.” Natasha offered coolly, unphased.

“Nobody tells her a damn thing.” Tony snapped and they all looked at him.

“As far as she will ever know, she’s been unconscious for the last three days, Cap and his buddy are on a mission for Fury and she won’t hear the name Docherty again until I can deliver her his head in a basket.” He continued.

“Man that’s dark.” Clint remarked and Tony slammed the glass down and stormed out.

“Well I guess we have our orders. We lie to her and secretly hunt down the insane scientist without her knowing it.” Sam said bitterly and stormed out after Tony.

“”Anyone else have anything they’d like to storm away over or can we watch the movie now?” Clint asked.

Natasha cuffed him over the back off the head but nobody said anything and they went back to not watching the film.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The next time you woke it was to the sound of footsteps approaching you in the medbay. You opened your eyes and blearily blinked up at the small unassuming man checking your vitals.

“Bruce?” You asked.

“Good morning, Miss Stark.” He smiled at you.

You sat up and grinned at him.

“You’re back!” You exclaimed, pointing out the obvious.

“I’m sorry I missed your party but I was very happy for you when Tony told me.” Bruce said.

“It’s alright Bruce, your work is really important. I know that.” You assured him.

“About that, I would like to talk to you later, when you’re feeling up to it.”

You frowned at him, what could Bruce want to talk to you about concerning his work? You weren’t a scientist, you didn’t understand most of what he said. You didn’t see what you could contribute.

“Ah, you want to run some tests don’t you? What do you need doc? Blood? Spinal fluid? Pound of flesh?” You joked.

He smiled fondly and shook his head.

“Nothing like that, the samples I took from you last time were more than sufficient. They were actually quite enlightening. I just want to talk about what I discovered.” He assured you.

“It’s nothing to worry about, I promise.” He added upon seeing your nervous expression.

You were going to press him for more information rather than wait until later but a familiar tread of footsteps was hurrying towards you.

“We can talk about it later, after Sam fusses over me.” You told the good doctor just as Sam came trotting through the door.

Sam wasted no time is clucking at you like a mother hen.

“If it’s not Rogers it’s you. Can we go one mission without someone ending up in here?” He demanded.

“A fucking cliff fell on me Sam, how is that my fault?”

“Don’t try and play innocent with me missy, do you have any idea how worried I was about you? I’ve been going out of my mind for days.”

“I’m sorry, I’ll try to avoid rubble hurtling at me from the sky in future. I promise.” You apologised with your best puppy dog eyes.

He visibly softened and leant down to hug you.

“You scared the hell out of me kiddo.” He whispered in your ear earnestly.

You felt incredibly guilty then and hugged him back as best as you could in the awkward position.

“I’m really sorry Sammy, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Sorry to interrupt this touching reunion but I actually woke you up to tell you you’re completely healed. You can leave if you like.” Banner said, looking uncomfortable but it was betrayed by the amusement and fondness in his eyes.

“Oh thank god, I’m starving.” You admitted.

Previous trips had taught you that while the medbay food came from the same place as the rest of the food in the compound it somehow tasted much worse.

“I’d normally recommend having something light to start but your enhanced metabolism can probably handle a real meal. In fact I insist you get some protein. Doctors orders.” Banner told you before he left.

“Did you hear him say you have to make me breakfast, cause that’s what I heard?” You asked Sam.

“Yeah yeah, that’s what he said.” Sam said with an eyeroll.

“Come on sleeping beauty, you shower, I’ll cook.” He said, picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder.

“Sam I can walk!” You protested.

And kept protesting until he dumped you on the floor outside your room and jogged away.

“I hate you.” You grumbled.

“No you don’t.”

No, you really didn’t you thought with a fond grin.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The concussion hadn’t left any adverse effects, the pounding in your head was from Thor’s booming voice. As soon as he had spotted you in the kitchen he had roared with joy and picked you up, crushing you against his much larger body and yelled about his joy at your recovery.

You massaged your temples and scowled. Stupid big blonde teddy bear. You had eventually extracted yourself from his grasp and escaped the kitchen and your chattering team mates. You loved them, you really did but they were acting like you had never had a concussion before. Yes you were unconscious for three days but that wasn’t a huge deal. They were acting like you had nearly died, what with all the shouting and hugging.

You padded through the halls towards Tony’s lab, planning on hiding under his desk again. You saw him and Bruce through the glass and remembered Bruce saying he wanted to talk with you and your curiosity rekindled, pushing back your mild headache. The doors opened automatically for you, courtesy of Friday and you strolled in.

Bruce looked up and waved at you as Dum-E whizzed over, spinning around in circles excitedly.

“Hey little guy, guess you missed me as well.” You chuckled, leaning down to pat him on the head.

Dum-E patted your knee in return and scooted away, returning a second later with a chair he was pushing along the floor towards you.

“Hey, what did you want to talk about?” You asked Bruce, throwing yourself onto the empty chair and rolling it over to Tony’s desk who ruffled your hair in greeting and went back to his tinkering.

Bruce looked at Tony who nodded. Bruce picked up a bunch of papers and came over and stood in front of the desk.

“The files on you we extracted from project Vernichtung weren’t complete, do you remember?”

You nodded.

“Your father and I have been curious as to what Docherty had taken the time to remove from them before he made his escape that day. We think we might know now. I’ve been doing extensive research on your genetic make up, trying to understand it. Would you like to know what I have found out?” He asked.

Bruce had asked you a while ago if he might study you. While you weren’t entirely comfortable with the idea you had acknowledged that Bruce wasn’t like any other doctor you had been subjected to. Tony trusted him and you trusted Tony implicitly so you had agreed.

He had promised to be honest with you regarding whatever he might discover and assured you that you could say no or change your mind at any point. Knowing he was the hulk had gone a long way in getting you to trust him, he was the only person who could possibly understand how you felt about Vernichtung and was your best shot at finding out if there was a way to remove it.

“I want to know. But keep it simple, I don’t understand any of the big words.” You joked.

“Your files said that you were created from a unique blend of several individuals DNA strands, all spliced together and implanted in a fertilized egg. Your embryo was then grown in an incubator and subjected to gamma radiation and injections of a knock off super soldier serum. Scientifically a lot of what was in those records was dubious at best, especially since there was nothing to back it up. No evidence or explanation.” Bruce said.

You knew all this already, you were well aware you were grown in a lab.

“You weren’t the first attempt. You were the first and only fetus to survive.” He told you.

That wasn’t surprising but it was still made you feel ill.

“Why me? What made me so special?” You whispered shakily.

Bruce looked apologetic.

“Because of the serum. It was passed down genetically to you, not injected directly. Your fetus wasn’t subjected to Gamma radiation directly either, your host was.”

“My host?”

“I’m sorry. Docherty lied to you, you weren’t artificially grown in the laboratory like his other attempts. You were born, like any other child. We, myself and a trusted associate of mine found two sets of genes in your autosomal chromosomes. Maternal and Paternal.”

He pulled off his glasses and wiped them nervously, looking to Tony. Tony took a deep breath and turned to look you in the eye.

“You have a mother and a father. You have biological parents.” Tony told you.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The lot thickens! And I swear, I’m not doing some weird,gross plot twist where Bucky or Steve is her dad. 

@dugan365 @fluffeh-kitty @memanda17 @krystallynx@theonelittleone @piscesbarnes @free-as-fishes@tarastudiesalot @captainamericasbeard @buckybearbabe98@nerdandproud-86  @clarkesardothien @harrison-shot-first@chook007 @thejourneyneverendsx @thelostallycat@inquisitor-selvala selvala

@the-corruptor @iover  @buckitybarnes @kendrawr-kitkat  @Pheonix-Whiskey-Tears @the–real-wombat @fairislesheets@angiept

@pizzarollpatrol @payformycollegepls  

[misskittydenoire]

Surprise! [Part One]

Title: Surprise! [Part One] Character(s) Mentioned: Tony Stark Pairing: Tony Stark x Offspring!Reader Genre: Fluff Rating: PG (eh, just a little language) Words: 2,432 Author’s Notes: I finally got a request! It’s from my friend NomNom! Thanks for the request, love! NomNom asks: Hiii! I was wondering if i could make a fic request. Can you write one of tony and reader, but reader being his kid that he just found out about? Thanks! Low key wanted the kid to be in college and whatever and is working as a barista and tony constantly trying to pay for everything but the kid keeps shutting him down lol. It’d be funny if she was the barista he always go to and when she found out, it was awkward until she went to the compound to tell him. I wanted to try something new with this request. I actually did my best and placed it in the protagonist’s point of view, that’s one. The second thing I tried to do was keep it gender neutral. This also ended up becoming a two parter because the story turned out longer than I expected! I really hope you guys like it! Summary: It has always been you and your mom. Since you were born, your mom has been there for you, has been your pillar of strength, and later on, has taught you to hold your own. You’ve relied on yourself and your hard work always. However, big news falls onto your lap and a new father comes along with it. A father who’s willing to give you anything in the world. A father who happens to occasionally save it as well. That father just so happens to be Tony Stark.

He stepped out of his silver Audi, fixing his tailored suit as he closed the car door with a small slam. His genuine black leather shoes softly hit the pavement as he entered his favorite establishment. Tony Stark survived on coffee. If it were possible, he would have a permanent IV attached to him filled with the caffeinated liquid. Instead, he walks through the glass door of a small cafe he frequents, a location that naturally knew his presence by the sound of his feet entering through the door.

“Hello, Mr. Stark! How are you today?” The portly owner greeted him with a wide smile, her cheeks flushed from her work. Her left hand still wiping down the table in front of her, preparing for the busy day ahead. He turned, his signature sunglasses on the bridge of his nose, and smirked. “Hanging in there, Susan. I need my fix again. You know me, can’t work without that magical brown juice that keeps me up and amazing.” She shook her head, accustomed to his remarks. Susan continued on, placing the small advertisement of their new product coming soon in the center of the dark wooden table before she moved on to another project.

A deep sigh escaped you. Another turn around shift that has been slowly draining your energy down to zero. If you take anymore of this shifts, you might as well sleep here. Attempting to balance college and your part time job is becoming too much to bare, however you sluggishly dragged your feet forward. College loans won’t pay for themselves, no matter how smart you are. One week closer. Just one more week closer to graduation and then you can finally collapse. The small red bucket of sanitizer fluid swayed back and forth before you placed it on the faux marble counter, a thin blue fabric floating above the water. Your mind concentrated on the mountain of worries, not paying attention to your surroundings. Your back was to the register, now wiping the same spot between the blenders for the umpteenth time.

“Uh, can I get some service here?” There was a sudden spike in your heartbeat, surprised by the unexpected voice behind you. You turned your heel, quick to smile, and address the first customer of the day when you looked at the cheeky smile plastered on their face. “God! You almost gave me a heart attack, man!” You exhaled heavily, as your hand clutched the middle area above your chest. Tony chuckled, tipping his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose. His brown eyes bright with joviality. “Sorry, kid. Didn’t mean to scare ya.” “Yes, you did.” “You’re right, I did. It’s always fun seeing you jump. It’s my favorite morning entertainment next to annoying the crap outta Happy.” You glared at him, feigning annoyance before breaking into a grin, “Ha ha. What can I get you, Mr. Stark?” “Ugh, don’t call me that. You make me sound old.” “You are old,” You quipped. “… I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that and chalk it up to childlike humor. How old are you again, twelve?” He answered, pushing the sunglasses back up onto the top of his nose. You rolled your eyes playfully, “What can I get you, Tony?”

He shrugged indecisively, and lifted his head to look over the many choices available to him. He pursed his lips as he pondered what to drink. The options were limitless, his deep brown eyes jumping from beverage to beverage.

“Here you go, Tony.” You said, placing the disposable cup with its cardboard sleeve in front of him. Tony looked at the cup, then to you. Back to the cup and back to you for the second time. You smirked, crossing your arms over your chest proudly. You shrugged nonchalantly before your shoulders dropped down again. Stark was about to speak when you interrupted him, a smug expression on your face. “You always look at the menu, taking about two minutes before you give up and ask for the usual: Americano with an extra shot and a questionable shitload of sugar. I’m surprised you don’t have diabetes by now.” “Well, one: I was going to choose something different this time. And two: This is my sugar intake for the day. The rest of the day I stay somewhat healthy. I’m doing great for a 34 year old.” “Aren’t you 48?” “Shut up.” He mumbled before he turned his heel and walked casually out the doors as you laughed at his reaction.

You shook your head, your laughter dying down as soon as you found yourself surrounded by a swarm of hipsters ready with their orders of organic soymilk, non-fat, chai lattes. Your chest underneath the dirty green apron expanded, quickly letting out an aggravated groan and widened a false grin. “Here we go…” You said to yourself.

The miniature Captain America shield hit against your keys as you stepped foot into the apartment. It fell back into your right jacket pocket, placing the article of clothing on the hook adjacent to the entrance. Your body screamed for release from the aches and pains it suffered standing for eight hours on tiled floor at work. While your brain pleaded for relief after five more hours of listening to lectures about the history of engineering. Your day was yet to be done, however. Piles of readings that needed to be completed for the following class and essays that still were in need to be outlined. Your professors have conspired to torture you until you’re in cap and gown. Juggling both work and school hasn’t been an easy road but you were determined to endure it till the end.

“Hi honey.” A soft voice greeted you.

It was your mother. She sat nervously on the couch you’ve been inhabiting for the past six months. She smiled briefly before her nerves set back into her small face. With open arms, she welcomed you back home once you realized that several pieces of papers written ‘I.O.U’ was no longer satisfactory for your roommates or landlord. You were her only child, of course. She wasn’t going to let you live in the streets.

“Mom?” You asked, confused by the soft frown on her face. “Sweetie? We need to talk,” She patted the cushion next to her, then placed her hand back on her lap.

You stared at her weary face. The wrinkles around her eyes were more apparent than usual. Whatever was plaguing her, clearly was taking a toll on her. You felt concerned, your feet sped towards her without losing eye contact. Your hands took hers, “Are you okay? What’s the matter? Are you sick? Are you–” “Sweetie, I’m fine. Breathe. You look like you’re gonna pass out.” She chuckled. You let out a sigh of relief, “With you and Mr. Stark, I’m gonna get grey hairs before I even turn 25.” “You’ve met Tony Stark?” She asked, surprised. You nodded, “Yeah, I thought I mentioned him to you before. He stops by the cafe often.” “I guess this makes it a little easier than…” “Makes what easier?” “Well…” She began.

“…So. You’re saying that my dad is Tony freaking Stark?!” You shouted, incredulously. You stood up, the blood rushing to your head in a flash which caused you to sit back down. It was your mother’s turn to nod. “Does he know?” Your fingers rubbed your temples, groaning from the rapid equations in your brain, attempting to wrap this situation around it.

She was still silent. She shook her head, worried that she has angered you. She couldn’t blame you. She has withheld this information for quite some time. “Why? Why have you kept this from me for so long?” You asked, exasperated. The secret was the least of your worries. It was the fact that your own flesh and blood omitted the truth. She’s not only the woman who gave birth to you but she was your best friend. Regardless of the fights they’ve caused, you’ve always told her the truth. This is different from, “oh, your fish is just sleeping,” or “eating your spinach is gonna make you strong like Popeye.” You knew the ins and outs of how you came to be but the origin was always vague. You see why now. “To be honest, I don’t know. I suppose because I thought it was for the best. It felt like it didn’t matter. We had each other, and we weren’t missing anything so it wasn’t like I needed him. Besides, at the time, he was a playboy. He had so notches on his bedpost, they were splinters. He wasn’t going to recognize who I was or even believe me. It was going to be more a fiasco and I didn’t want that in our lives.” She explained, tears welled in her coffee colored eyes. “Besides, it’s not the greatest feeling in the world to tell your only child they are the product of a one night stand.”

“Mom, I don’t care if you’ve slept with thousands of men. What bothers me is you’ve kept this from me when I’ve always been honest with you.” “Okay, don’t use my favorite musical against me… And it wasn’t thousands of men.” She grumbled. You gingerly wiped the pending tears before they fell as a smile surfaced on both of your faces. “… I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.” You shook your head, “It’s okay, mom. It’s nothing therapy and vodka won’t fix.” She lightly smacked your arm as she sighed in relief. Her thin frame stood up, as if lightened by the confession of her past. She walked towards the kitchen, today’s dinner on the top of her tongue until she forgot a fire question she herself had. “…..Are you going to tell Mr. Stark who you are?”

Your eyes stared at the entrance of the compound. This man has never been really subtle, huh? Just a big ol’ A slapped onto the building. Through the glass paned doors, you could see the hustling and bustling of the agents and staff while you contemplated even going forward with this idea. You weren’t even sure he’d be here. However, you knew this matter wasn’t something to be spoken about at the cafe and it wasn’t something that you can say casually while you handed him his coffee. 

“Here’s your usual, Mr, Stark. Oh, by the way, I’m your illegitimate child you had from a one night stand you probably have no recollection of.” You muttered, feigning a grin as you replayed the impossible scenario you had in your head. Your right s/c hand clutched the piece of paper with the address of the compound, crumbling it as if it would will your feet to finally move. It didn’t. The roar of an engine drew closer, and you whipped your head towards the direction. Your e/c eyes widened as the man in question came into your line of vision. How the hell are you gonna explain this? Would he even believe you?

Stark noticed a figure as he got to the compound, and quickly knew who it was. What he didn’t understand is why you were there in the first place. “Y/N? Doing deliveries now or is this some special perk for yours truly?” He quipped. However, his tone shifted when you fully turned to him, your face holding a nervous look in your eyes. “Hey, are you okay? Did something happened? Are you sick? Do you need-” Well, nice to know that the 21 questions panic mode comes from him, you thought to yourself, as you held up your hands to pause his interrogation. “Hey Tony. Yes, I’m okay. Yes, something did happen but nothing that required stitches. No, I’m not sick,” You answered in a monotone before you moved on to why you were really there. “Actually, there is something I need to discuss with you. It’s something really delicate that I knew I couldn’t explain to you at my job. Can we talk somewhere private?” “Yes sure, kid.” Tony escorted you into the building, his arm directing you to the elevators. 

You took quiet deep breaths as you entered his office. The large room was twice as big as your living room and the furniture’s upscale appearance was far from any one you could afford. Your arms stuck close to your form, afraid that if you even as so touched the air around it, it would collapse. You weren’t even sure you should sit down when Tony offered you a seat because you were afraid you’d wrinkle the cushion. You only decided to accept it since Tony wouldn’t have stopped staring intently until you did. He sat on the opposite side on his work desk, his broad back leaning against his chair, “So sport, what did you wanna talk about? Must be something serious if you decided to come all this way from the city.” You began to twiddle your thumbs, “Well… I honestly don’t know where to begin here. This is a position I never thought I’d be in.” A short exhale escaped your mouth, your hands (though slightly clammy) gripped the arms of the chair as you decided to just come out with it, “I’m your kid. I’m not asking for money or any like that. I just found out a couple of days ago and I thought you should know too. You know, just in case you’d ever need a blood transfusion or something. Not that I want that to happen or anything. Just, you know… so you know.” Unfortunately, the execution was a little too quick for Tony to catch. The sentences were woven together that it didn’t make any sense. Tony blinked, “…Sorry, what?” “You’re… my dad.” The man behind the iron mask sat in front of you, frozen. And stayed frozen for about five minutes. “Mr. Stark. Are you still breathing? Listen, I know this comes as quite a shock and I don’t even know if you believe me. I’m willing to take a blood test, anything—” In an instant, he lifted his hand. “F.R.I.D.A.Y., can you verify this?” On it, sir. “Ow!” You released your left hand from the vice grip you had on the chair when you get a prick on your index finger. Within seconds, the AI returned. What Y/N is correct, sir. You are their biological father. You sat there, uncertain what to do next. Unintentionally, you nervously smiled, “…Mazel Tov?” Well, this could’ve gone a whole lot worse…

[sunstainedpages]

The Barrel Of Her Gun Pt.2

Look At Me

Natasha x reader

Words: 1435

AN: This is the second part to The Barrel Of Her Gun series. One or two tears may have been shed. I’m really like writing this. The third part may not be out for a little while since I’m going away for a couple of days and then life gets crazy after that. Enjoy!💖

Pt.1 Relief Pt.3 Bad Dream

You wake up in a bright hospital room; a huge contrast to the cell you’d been holed up in. Sitting up, you can feel the IV drip that was coming from your hand; not remembering how you got here you started to call out. “Hey. Someone. Please I’d like to speak to someone,” and as if on queue the room flooded with doctors and nurses. Their words were spinning around your head and you couldn’t understand a single thing. Looking up you notice Tony; Steve and Bucky stood around your door; your eyes instantly light up.

After numerous tests, the doctors turn to leave and the avengers shuffle in. Awkward silence follows. “I uh guess you guys deserve an explanation.” You mumble now not daring to look at any of them. Gingerly, Tony sits on the edge of your bed and places a hand on your knee; you’ve always seen Tony as a father figure ever since you’d been found by the avengers.

You remember that day so clearly; the day that your life changed, and you became happy; the day Iron Man carried your nearly lifeless body and made sure you had the best help to nurse you back to health.

Steve takes a step towards you, “Y/N while we understand why you sacrificed yourself, it…it frustrated us because we could’ve and would’ve found another way; a way that didn’t involve you having to leave.”

Tony buts in… ”at the end of the day we are just happy you’re home kiddo.”

A small smile graces your lips, “I know that there might possibly have been a different solution, but I didn’t want to risk it,” you glance at Bucky, “I know what Hydra can do, the damage they will cause when they want something…” Bucky clears his throat.

“Y/N I understand that. Out of everyone here I understand the most why you wouldn’t want to risk it. But we are team and more importantly we are family. It’s taken me a while to accept that, accept the fact that you must risk it. You must risk losing the people you love, to stay with the people you love; and Y/N I don’t know if you’ve noticed but we aren’t the average people. We aren’t that easy to get rid of” Bucky chuckles and you feel at ease once again.

They sit with you for a couple of hours; talking; laughing and catching you up on everything you’d miss. Being surrounded by the two super soldiers and Tony you almost forget about the fact that you hadn’t seen Natasha; she hadn’t come to make sure you were ok. Your mood shifts; from the happy bubbling self you were five minutes ago; now your eyes were full of longing and a forced smile was plastered on your lips. The guys notice and decide you need some time alone, Bucky’s the first to leave, giving you a small nod as he exists. Tony places a kiss on your forehead “chin up kiddo” he murmurs as he heads out of the room. Only you and Steve were left in the hospital room, Steve places a hand on your shoulder “give her some time Y/N. I know it’s hard but you’ll both get through this,” and with that he takes his leave.

Sighing, you lean back on your pillows and cry, letting the waves of emotions crash into you and drowning in your thoughts. Every day was the same; you woke up; and then whichever team member was free would come sit with you and then they’d leave. Leave you even more broken and destroyed then you were when the rescued you a week ago.

It was your last night in the hospital before you got discharged back to the compound, and you were dreading it. “Ugh” you scream as you sit up in the hospital bed. “WHY WHY WHY? Why won’t she come see me” you break down into sobs, “I need to see her” You weren’t talking to anyone, there wasn’t anyone around to talk to. You were glad there wasn’t as you continued to cry yourself to sleep.

The next morning rolled around, you were up bright and early signing the papers to get you out of the hospital. Walking towards the elevators that led to the compound you were greeted by Tony, “hey kiddo’ he ruffled your hair “looking forward to being back?”

Smiling back at him, you nod, “can’t wait to get back to normality.” Though you had a sneaking suspicion things would be far from normal. You both step inside the elevator, “Hey F.R.I.D.A.Y.”

“Hello Miss Y/L/N. It’s good to see you back.” F.R.I.D.A.Y says, “the rest of the team are in the kitchen.”

“Ok. Thanks. I’ll head down there later” you say stepping out and heading towards your bedroom. Pushing open your door, you enter to see your room was exactly as you left it; or maybe even tidier. Deciding not to waste anytime you head for a shower, after not being able to shower for four and a half months, the hot water was a very nice welcome. “I’m never taking showering for granted ever again.” You chuckle to yourself as you step out of the on suite and into your bedroom. Finding a comfy pair of sweatpants and a baggy t-shirt you contemplate whether to face Natasha today. ‘The irony. I’m an avenger, I face scary things and run into danger on a daily basis. But I’m more scared to face my girlfriend.’ You think to yourself. Making up your mind, you ask F.R.I.D.A.Y to ask Nat to meet you in your room. “if I don’t do this now I’ll never do it” you murmur to yourself as you wait for the red-headed assassin.

Jumping, at the harsh knock that land on your door, you shake yourself out of your thoughts. As calmly as you can you walk towards the door; opening it slowly. Mumbling a quiet “hey” you step aside and let her in. “I uh guess we need to talk” you laugh nervously not really knowing how to start.

“Yeah. I guess.” Natasha says bluntly as she sits down in the armchair you have in the corner of the room. Sitting on the bed opposite her, you look at her face; eyes that no longer shine a bright emerald green; the dark bags that sit underneath them. Watching her movements, you notice how everything is slow and forced; how she looks like a shell of the woman you love. Usually you could read her like an open book; you’d spent so much time together; the assassin had finally let her walls down. Not anymore. The walls you’d spent so long taking down had been rebuilt higher and stronger. Staring at your girlfriend now all you could see was a stone-cold expression.

“Nat. I know you are mad. You have every right to be. But please look at me.” You pause hoping to catch her gaze but to no avail. “I didn’t think I had a choice. I didn’t want Hydra to hurt you or the rest of the team. I don’t know what I could do with myself if they hurt you or worse. Natasha please. I’m sorry…”

“Would you make the same decision again?” Natasha asks, not evening moving her gaze from the window.

The question shocked you “No? No. If I was put in that position again, I would make the same decision. I would sacrifice myself again to protect you. I’d do anything to protect me.”

“Y/N I don’t want you to protect me. I wanted you here with me. I’d much rather face the consequences of Hydra with you by my side then you sacrificing yourself. I don’t get how you couldn’t see that, I’d face anything if I had you by my side.”

Natasha’s outburst shocked you. “I’m sorry Nat. I guess I just wanted to be a hero. I wanted to save everyone,” you sigh; running your fingers through your hair, “but I’m here now.” Looking up at her, you’d thought maybe you had gotten through to her. Apparently not.

“I’m sorry Y/N” Natasha says, and you can hear the crack in her voice, she heads towards your door.

“Natasha. Please. Please don’t walk away. Please don’t walk away without looking at me” you whimper as she closes your door. “Just look at me!” you scream at the now empty room. Sinking down onto your bed; you curl up and let the tsunami of tears pour out of your eyes.

You sacrificed yourself to save the woman you love, but in the end, you just lost her.

[daryldamnson]

5 Times Bucky Barnes Wanted To Kiss You + 1 Time He Did - part iii

Part i - Part ii - Part iii - Part iv - Part v - Part vi

Pairing:  Bucky Barnes X Reader

Summary:  You’re a good friend of Tony Stark’s who decides to drop in for a while.  Bucky can’t seem to help becoming captivated by you (and your lips).

Warnings:  I don’t think there are any?  I may have inadvertently added a swear word or two and not noticed?

Word count:  1k+

Can you believe I’ve had this finished and in my drafts for about two weeks now and I haven’t posted it out of pure laziness but I didn’t want to do a final read through to make sure there weren’t any errors? I suck I know.

In my world everyone forgave everyone at the end of civil war and now everyone lives together and iw never happened bc i refuse.

iii.

Bucky would admit to himself that you gained his trust quickly – quickly for him, anyway.  It was so unusual for him, in fact, that he started doubting his own instincts and did a full background check on you. Despite one small blip, which you had already told him about in detail – the basics being that it included Tony, a not-so-legal backroom card game and two nights on the run from an angry mobster, you were completely clean.

His thorough search and, admittedly, your easy-going smile calmed his nerves, and Bucky was able to add you to the very short list of people he trusted wholeheartedly.

Which was why he was cursing himself for his lack of control when it came to you.  All he seemed to do when around you was stare at your lips longingly (which he hopes that he covers better than he thinks he does) and awkwardly mumble responses when you expected them.  If he gave himself away you’d have to have the uncomfortable ‘you’re interested in me, but I’m not interested in you’ talk with him and, not only would his heart shatter, but so would your blooming friendship.  And that was quickly becoming something he didn’t think he could live without.

He usually did a pretty good job at quashing his feelings for you, and he tried especially hard to ensure that no one caught him looking at you with all the adoration that his eyes could express – which is something he’d first caught himself doing in the reflection of a microwave door.  It wasn’t his smoothest moment, he’ll admit (he may have been so surprised that he almost fell off the barstool he was sat on), but he was honestly shocked by how hung up on you he looked – and how obvious it was.  

He tried especially hard to hide this expression whenever his blonde counterpart was in the room. Though Steve had long since figured out his friend’s feelings for you, that didn’t mean that Bucky was going to make it easy on him – every time Steve would attempt to bring you up in conversation he would try to answer as nonchalantly as possible, so it certainly wouldn’t help his disinterested façade if he let Steve catch him looking at you like you’d hung the moon and all of the surrounding stars.

You didn’t exactly make it easy on him though.

He’d always loved the bright red lips of dames back in the 40s, it was one of the first things that attracted him to a lot of the women he dated – he couldn’t help but stare at those perfectly painted lips, all bright and pouty and just so fuckin’ beautiful.

So it didn’t really come as a surprise to him that he almost had a heart attack the first time he saw you with lip gloss on.  Now, back in his day, lip gloss had been a thing – but it was mainly for movie stars who wanted their lips to shine on the big screen, and bright red matte lipstick was much more popular with the regular gals he’d date.  So, yeah, he may have overreacted at the sight of your lips shining and pouty and oh so fucking beautiful – but, seriously, who could blame him?  And the way your lips glinted as they curled into a smile at the sight of him on the couch? Well, he could’ve died as happy as a fuckin’ clam – and the way his heart seemed to stop and speed up all at the same time almost made that a reality.

After pulling his heart back down from his throat, he pulls a smile onto his face and tries not to look too awestruck.  He’s not so certain he did a good job at that.

“What?”

You look at him suspiciously as you fall back onto the opposite end of the couch, right next to where his sock covered feet are crossed.

“Nothing, nothing.” The way his voice cracks means he isn’t as convincing as he’d hoped, so he shakes his head a little as if to reaffirm his words.  The goofy smile on his face doesn’t help his case, but you let it go.  It was a nice sight – both because Bucky deserved all the happiness in the world, and because his smile was quite possibly one of the most attractive things you’d ever seen.

You smile at him knowingly but say nothing, casually pulling his feet into your lap – a position that was regularly seen around the compound due to your tactile nature.  You tickle the bottom of his left foot for a second (it was the best day of your life when you figured out that the supposedly dangerous and badass ex-soldier was ticklish) and giggle when he pulls it back only to lightly kick your hand away a moment later.  Your hands come to rest on top of his feet, their warmth soaking through the socks and onto his skin.  The indirect contact makes his entire body hum almost as much as skin-on-skin touching does – which may be a testament to how long he went without gentle contact, but, really, he thinks it’s just evidence of how smitten with you he is.

His gaze travels from your hands up to your face, which has now turned in the direction of the TV, eyes concentrated on the sitcom he’d left on out of pure boredom.  The colours of the TV flicker in the reflection on your lip gloss, and maybe he drools a little at the sight of the slick shine of your lips.  He honestly doesn’t know what it is that makes him so captivated, except that they just look so goddamn pretty.

As much as he tries to refocus his attention on the sitcom, Bucky finds his eyes straying back to your lips frequently – and finds himself fantasising about leaning over and pressing his lips against the pouting, shimmery curves of yours even more.  He holds himself back, purely out of fear – he’s absolutely certain that you have no romantic intentions towards him whatsoever.

He’s wrong.

You’d caught onto his staring and, he didn’t know it, but that was the first time you started to get the hint that maybe your feelings for him were reciprocated.

Sorry this took so long!  I’m back at uni soon so my posting schedule is going to be even worse than usual, just an fyi.

Let me know if you want more!!  Comments are welcomed and appreciated!

Taglists are open - just drop me an ask if you want to be added!  I have a permanent tag, as well as character tags, fandom tags and series tags.

Perma-tags:  @im-socialy-awkward-no-joke - @thats-what-i-call-british - @midnightdream83 - @izawrites

Marvel tags:  @thelostverse - @everydayanotherkink

Bucky Barnes tags:  @poeticbarnes -  @petals-sunwards - @slender--spirit - @barnesbabygirl - @yourpal-yourbuddy-yourbuckyy - @jitterbuck  - @alexalltimelow - @unfallen-angel

5+1 tags:  @italyand5soslover283 - @manymanyenvelopes

(if your tag is struck through that means I couldn’t tag you, and I suggest you check your settings just in case!  also I type these out every time so if I’ve made a spelling error that means I couldn’t tag you, just let me know!)

[bluethepaladin]

Yo blue im on a super duper important quest to find really good lance centric fics, you know, that high quality top shelf kinda stuff. ive already read ur fic but im lookin for more. Got any recs????????

hey there, friend, you came to the right place! sorry this took so long, I made this whole post and then my computer was being difficult and I lost the whole thing, so this is the second time I’m making it! thank you so much for reading when I dream it happens in blue. I’ve got some great new content on the way, but in the meantime, here are some great reads to hold you over!

>

7 Times They Noticed by @em-the-cliche

Lance was alright. He was happy. He was fine. Except when he wasn’t.

“Listen. Are you alright?”“Uh…are you alright?”“Are you okay buddy?”“Are…are you in good health, paladin?“Are…are you okay, paladin?”“Hey. You okay?”

His team mates, his second family - they noticed.

A Commutual Contract by @skaylanphear​

After a terrifying experience during which Lance, seemingly, dies, Keith is haunted by horrible nightmares of holding his comrade in his arms while he took his final breath. To the point where he can’t sleep unless he knows for absolute certain that Lance is alive.

And while the attention is surprising, Lance doesn’t really have a problem with Keith checking up on him. Or the fact that Keith only seems totally comforted when he can cuddle Lance close and hear his heart beat. After all, there’s nothing wrong with two bros cuddling. It doesn’t MEAN anything. Or, at least, that’s what Lance keeps telling himself.

At Rest (Five Miles Behind the Front) by @thisgirlhastales

Shiro is no longer the Black Paladin. He is no longer the commander of Team Voltron. He is a soldier without a purpose and a leader without a legion at his back.

Lance is a seventh wheel. He is not fit to be a leader, and perhaps not even fit to be a Paladin.

Or, in which two Paladins of Voltron learn their true worth, and finally, there is well-earned rest.

Beautiful Minds by PotatoBender

Lance used to be proud of his mental abilities. A pilot. A Paladin. Someone experienced with delving and controlling his mind. But after being captured, and enduring just a single encounter with Haggar, his castle was reduced to rubble.

Rescuing Lance was the easy part - healing him is much, much harder.

Blast Zone by bubblebucky

In the middle of a mission, a bomb going off leaves Lance unable to hear. Still, while he’s deaf, the rest of his team are the ones that won’t listen.

Boom Crash the Sound of My Ship by @maychorian​

After a Galra attack splits Voltron, the blue lion is damaged and falls toward the jungle planet below. Shiro follows, and now he and Lance are stranded in hostile territory, fighting to survive. Lance is injured, Shiro is having flashbacks, and help is far away. And the Galra just…keep coming.

Brain storm by @trickstersgambit

Lance managed for years without too many obvious issues. Those who needed to know, knew. Until it became a problem he thought he buried in his awkward early teen years.

calling me to come back by @apvrrish

Keith is a witch who owns a shop where he breaks curses on both magical items and people under spells. Love spells, family curses passed down generations, cursed heirlooms lurking the attic – he can handle them all. But one day a boy named Lance walks into his shop, and his curse is darker and more difficult to break than anything Keith has ever seen before: the curse is draining his magic, and without his magic, Lance will die. 

This is a new favorite of mine!

Dark Blue by @thunder-dor

Lance has a bad habit of comparing himself to his teammates. Lotor needs a Paladin with a weakness.

Or

Lance gets kidnapped and Keith will do anything to get him back.

This is a great fic and Jessie is a writing goddess!!!

Fighting the Surface by @tomminowrites

“Humans have shown quite the impressive drive for survival,” the Galra commander grins. “I want to see you fight against that. The druids claim drowning is quite the painful way to go.“ He tips Lance backward over the water, as Keith and Shiro struggle against their bonds. “If you surface, they die.”

Lance’s eyes widen and he’s pushed backward with a splash.

______

Keith, Shiro, and Lance are taken captive during a mission planet-side. The commander decides he only needs two paladins for interrogation, and decides to have a little fun while they wait for extraction. Lance is thrown into the deep with the threat that if he swims up for air, one of the other two will be shot. Obviously Lance would rather die than allow that.

Later chapters will, of course, deal with Keith and Shiro losing their damn minds thinking Lance just drowned himself for them.

I helped beta this one! It’s good!

Ghost of the Future & Shadow of the Past by @zizzani & @wittyy-name

When Lance is thrown through time, his future self from one year ahead is transported to the past in his place.

This Lance is faster, stronger, and markedly more mature. Not only that, but he’s distinctly more intuitive about his teammates and A LOT more touchy with Keith.

The team must try and work out how to reverse the two Lance’s places and restore them to their original timelines. Things only get more complicated when the Future Lance can’t seem to remember where he was when the switch happened, and he refuses to reveal anything about his own time for fear of influencing the team’s decisions.

Mirror fic to “Shadow of the Past” by wittyy_name

&

When Lance is thrown through time, he finds himself one year in the future, in place of the Lance that should be here.

He finds his team to be remarkably familiar, yet distinctly different. They have more scars, a better grip on the whole saving the universe thing, and over a year’s worth of teamwork to bind them together. But the weirdest part? Keith seems to be a lot more touchy with him. Not that he’s complaining… much.

The team must try and work out how to reverse the two Lance’s places and restore them to their original timelines. But despite the fact that they’re still his friends, Lance can’t help but feel a little out of place among a team that’s been through so much with a Lance that just isn’t him. And it doesn’t help that the team is on edge around him, refusing to tell him anything for fear of influencing and changing the past. Things get even more complicated when they have to rely on the team in the past to complete the switch, leaving Lance to little more than sit, wait, and attempt to fill in his future self’s shoes.___________

Mirror fic to “Ghost of the Future” by Zizzani

give out to give in by @mlp-michaeljones

So typical. So fucking typical, that Lance is the youngest and worst of his siblings, and then the kids come along and he isn’t even the cutest anymore, and he only made fighter pilot because perfect fucking Keith dropped out and even when he piloted a lion he didn’t have a thing like the others, and now he can’t even have Blue. Maybe he was the one to suggest it, but he was barrelling towards this point all along; rock fucking bottom.

When it becomes clear that Allura is a better pilot than him, Lance steps down as the Blue Paladin. It is, after all, the obvious decision. Lance is, and has always been, the afterthought.

But who needs an afterthought?

He Don’t Fuckin Care by ya_ya_rose

Lance knows how to hold his own. But he isn’t indestructible. 

Huddling for Warmth: The Movie by @maychorian

The paladins are heading back to the Castle of Lions after another successful mission when Shiro suddenly realizes that something is wrong. Lance isn’t responding on the comms.

Love and Other Questions by @squirenonny

One week after news of the Kerberos disaster broke, Pidge receives a new Mark–proof that Matt is still alive. She breaks into the Garrison to find him, only to find herself caught up in the fight for the fate of the universe.

Keith keeps his arms covered so he doesn’t have to watch Shiro’s scars compounding on his skin–but doing so means cutting off contact with his romantic soulmate, who greets him each morning with a new (and terrible) pickup line.

Shiro and Matt thought they were the luckiest people alive when they found out they were going to Kerberos together. But Shiro hasn’t seen Matt’s untidy scrawl on his arm in almost a year, and he has no idea if his soulmate is even still alive.

[Canonverse Soulmate AU with romantic and platonic soulmates (and some gray areas in between)]

Perihelion by @eclecticinkling

After growing up in the shadow of war, Prince Lance of Altea would give almost anything to bring peace back to his people. So when a Galran ambassador arrives with an offer to make that a reality, Lance knows he can’t refuse. Even if it means binding himself to his enemy’s prince for as long as they both shall live.

say you’re gonna break my fall by @apvrrish

Keith tries to deal with being the leader, and also tries to deal with his feelings about Lance. It’s a process.

Keith looks up and sees Lance staring at him, head tilted at an angle. His eyes are just barely visible through the visor, but his mouth is twisted into a puzzled curve.

“Sorry,” Keith says, flushing. “Lost in thought.”

“You okay?” Lance asks, falling into step alongside him as they follow the others out of the ship.

so much more than space dust by @ad-asterism

When a cryopod malfunctions, Lance is left with amnesia. As he struggles to figure out where he fits in the new formation of the team, the rest of Voltron is racing against the clock to figure out where Lotor will strike next- and their only clue is hidden somewhere in Lance’s lost memories. Lance will have to find a way to remember what he’s missing- or come to terms with what he’s forgotten.

Taking One For The Team by YukiSetsu

A mission gone wrong lands Lance and Pidge in a dangerous situation. When communication with the rest of the team is compromised, they have to take drastic measures to escape. Pidge can only hope that they get out before things get worse and one of them breaks. Especially Lance.

The Reluctant Soldier by @banditywrites

Lance is badly injured on a mission and struggles with his role as sharpshooter.

Thirty-One Days by SidneyJean

Lance experiences loss, in all its ugly faces, for the first time after beginning his journey as a Paladin and discovers just how that changes a person over time. It…doesn’t happen the way he expected. The people around him begin to change, and so does he.

Trembling Lips by @newtsckamander

Lance is an emotional person who cries easily (and does the trembly-lip thing a lot) but tries to stay strong in front of the team.

OR

Five times Lance stopped himself from crying in front of his teammates, and the one time he couldn’t hold it back.

Universal Fates by @celty-me

Alfor, Zarkon, Trigel, Gyrgan, and Blaytz set off on missions across the galaxy to gather pieces of an artifact so Alfor can complete Voltron.

Zarkon encounters a human boy with a missing arm fighting as a gladiator.Trigel encounters an enslaved young human girl whose genius is being exploited.Gyrgan encounters a human boy who disabled a pirate ship he and his people had been chasing.King Alfor encounters a young half-galra boy who aids the king and Coran when they are cornered by bandits.Blaytz encounters an Altean boy enslaved on a slave trading planet.

Each ally feels compelled to rescue and adopt the orphans they encounter, setting the wheels of fate into motion.

While each child carries the scars of their past, they form bonds too strong to ever be broken. They will find friendship and family with each other, and maybe love, even as events threaten everything they know and care for.

wanna be known by you by @bluewriters​

Sometimes Lance feels like he’s been stained blue, the colour of his lion seeping through his skin as he chokes on cold stardust, and he is drowning in waves of blue, blue ocean. Lance has never been afraid of the ocean before.

He rolls over and turns off the lights. He doesn’t sleep.

Watching You Fall by @emerald-ashes

Shiro couldn’t find Lance. He knew he was in danger after his communications ended abruptly. But he certainly wasn’t prepared to find Lance dying on the floor of a Galra base during one their missions.

Words Fail by EagleInFlight

A mind-melding exercise goes wrong, and the five Paladins are now trapped in Lance’s mind. To escape, they must delve through Lance’s memories. Lance learns that in order to save his friends, he has to stop running. But to stop running means to face the worst of himself.

[carmenlire]

Tell Me that It’s Okay Part VII

Read Part I

Read Part II

Read Part III

Read Part IV

Read Part V

Read Part VI

Read on ao3

(Last chapter!)

Dear Alec,

I hope you remember me because otherwise it’s going to get awkward quick.

I can’t imagine that you don’t.

This is Grayson Rockbridge from the Academy. I know this letter must seem out of left field for you. For me, it’s a long time coming. If you don’t remember who I am, please stop reading and throw this away immediately.

If you do, please continue.

We never talked much, did we? I mean, we talked about how much Professor Stormlight sucked ass and how much we hated going home. But we never talked about us. Not really.

Mutually admiring each other’s eyes doesn’t count.

I don’t know if it was a me issue or if we both struggled back then. I know that when things went to shit, I didn’t know what to say, what to do, to make them better again. To make you better again.

I guess I always had it easier. I barely gave a fuck that my grandfather was alive, let alone what he thought about me. But you were the crowned prince of the Lightwood legacy.

Heavy is the head. . .

I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you more. You walked out that night and, I’ll admit, I was devastated. For a long time, I thought it was something I had done to make you run away. It took me longer than it should’ve to realize that you were dealing with your own problems and that we were just the catalyst.

I’m sorry.

Now it might’ve been over a decade since we last spoke, but I know what you’re thinking. God Dammit Gray, you have nothing to apologize for. Well, you’re wrong. I knew you were struggling. I saw your eyes that day you went back to New York. I’ve never seen a living person look so haunted, so dead inside. I stopped being your friend the minute you opened that door and I’ve always regretted it.

I honestly don’t know what this letter is supposed to be but my fiance suggested I write it and so here I am. I might have had a beer or six. Danny is shaking his head and laughing at me across the room. He knows I’m a rambling drunk.

Speaking of, the raison d’etre for this letter. I’m getting engaged, Alec. To a man. His name is Daniel and I’m so goddamn in love with him that I’m sick with it. We met a few years ago when he transferred to the Paris Institute. He killed a Shortax demon that was trying to kill me and the rest is history.

You’d love him. He acts like tough shit but he’s a total softie underneath the hardass exterior.

Sounds like someone I once knew.

You know, it took me a long time to get over you. Part of it was the guilt and the simple fact that you were the first and only boy I’d ever been so open with.

Plus, you were a good guy. It helped that you were hot as fuck, too.

I’m sure you didn’t have it any easier than me and, let me tell you, my life hasn’t been a cakewalk either. There were some hard fucking years. I struggled a lot with who I was, who I wanted to love.

Danny showed me how blind I’d been.

I heard-- of fucking course I heard-- that you got your own Happy Ever After. A warlock, Lightwood. Really? Who knew that the most strait-laced guy at the Academy would turn out to be such a fucking scandal.

I heartily approve.

How’s that immortality shit going? Word spread like wildfire through the shadow world that the once Golden Boy of the Clave was becoming immortal for his husband.

Now there’s a sentence I never thought I’d write about you.

I’m proud of you, Alec. I know you don’t need it-- hell you might not even ever read this-- but I want to say it nonetheless. I daresay I was one of your closest friends once upon a time and it makes me fucking happy to see what you’ve become.

I’m not doing too shabby myself. I’m the Weapons Master here in Paris and I’m marrying the love of my life in the fall.

Shit is good.

We made it, Lightwood. Through all the shit, and heartbreak, and goddamn misery of it all we made it to relatively well-adjusted adulthood.

Who would’ve thought? Two lonely teenagers with insurmountable secrets are now happy adults in gay as hell relationships.

Goddamn, we made it, Alec.

I want to end whatever the fuck this is with an invitation. In a little over five months, I’m marrying Danny. I’d love it if you could come. I want to meet Magnus and make sure he’s good enough for you.

I want you to meet Danny and know that he’s perfect for me.

I understand, of course, if you can’t come. Your busy as Head of the New York Institute, it might be awkward since we were almost in a relationship, hell you might not remember me.

But if you can, please come.

Since I’m halfway convinced you’ll never see this and maybe a little more drunk than I originally let on, I want to add one more thing.

I thought I loved you. For a lot of years, I carried your image in my head as a solace. You were my biggest what-if. But then I met Daniel and everything clicked in a way that I’d never felt before. What we had, Lightwood, was a boyhood crush that was compounded by all the internalized homophobia we were dealing with. Christ, things were pretty shit back then.

I learned that term in therapy a few years ago. If you haven’t heard of it, you should look it up. It explains a lot.

We made it.

With eternal fondness,

Gray

Alec startles as he feels arms wrap around his middle. In the next moment, he’s relaxing against the comforting weight of his husband as Magnus nuzzles into his back.

“What were you reading, darling,” Magnus asks absently.

Alec takes a moment to process everything. He was reading the letter one last time before he put it away. Turning around until he can hold Magnus, they stand there for a minute in the stillness.

Softly, Alec speaks. “Do you remember Gray?”

Magnus hums. “Yes, he was the boy you almost kissed before having a bit of a nervous breakdown. Why?”

Alec huffs out a laugh and tightens his arms around Magnus. “He sent me a letter Friday.”

“So that’s happened. I knew there had to be a reason you were day drinking. And, you hardly ever watch The Lion King these days.”

“Yeah,” Alec says. “I came back from lunch and there was a letter on my desk. Gray wrote to me. It was the first time I’d heard from him in almost fifteen years. It messed with me a little. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.”

“Alexander, you know you have nothing to apologize for. This was your news and you can tell me whatever you want whenever you want. I’m always here for you and if you need time to process things, than I am more than willing to give that to you.”

They kiss for a moment before Alec pulls back and whispers, “Thank you. For everything.”

“Of course, love. Now what did Grayson have to say?”

“Pretty much exactly what I would have said to him, actually. He told me he was getting engaged to the love of his life and that he wants us to come to the wedding. There was some other stuff about how fucked up we were back then and how much things have changed. It was a good letter. Emotional. Very Grayson,” Alec smiles. “It sounded just like he was here in person.”

Magnus chuckles before he grows serious. “What do you want to do? Do you want to go? You know I support you in whatever you decide.”

Alec takes a minute to think about it, but he’d made his decision the instant he’d read the letter.

“I do. I want to go and celebrate what he’s found. I think I might want to see if there’s still a salvageable friendship there.”

“Then let me know the date and I’ll make the arrangements.”

Alec brushes his nose against Magnus’s cheek and thanks the angel for the millionth time that he’s found someone so good and understanding and loving.

“Thank you, Magnus. I appreciate that you’d do this for me.”

“Think nothing of it, Alexander. Paris in the fall is paradise. Think of all the shopping!”

They laugh together before breaking apart. Alec turns back towards the table he was facing and picks up the letter he’d sat next to a box.

The box.

He feels Magnus place a hand on the small of his back as he opens it. It’s much more crowded than it was a few years ago. There’s still more Magnus in this box than anyone else and just looking at the contents makes his chest ache. He reminds himself that they have forever and focuses back to the matter at hand.

He folds the letter gently before placing it carefully in the box. He takes one last moment and stares at the letter, at all of the trinkets and memories that he’s stored in here. Alec’s very heart is in this box and he knows it’s well looked after in their loft. He eases the lid closed and places it back on its shelf next to Magnus’s.

When Alec turns around and walks back towards his husband, the expression on Magnus’s face almost makes him falter. He’s looking at Alec with such love and open vulnerability that it makes his heart soar and stutter.

“I love you so much, Alexander. Thank you for sharing this with me,” Magnus says softly.

Alec takes his hand and rubs his thumb across his knuckles. “There’s no one I’d rather share this stuff with. You’re it for me, babe.”

Magnus huffs out a small laugh. “Well, if I’m stuck with you, then I guess I’d better feed you. What do you want for dinner, darling?”

Alec’s laugh is bright and loud as he answers.

“Surprise me.”

[andromeda3116]

so, @thereigning-lorelai requested this, and i didn’t realize until, oh, thirty seconds ago, that i am not the only person who took it and ran with it and tbh, i don’t know if i should apologize? i feel bad, i don’t wanna step on any toes. but um. “jyn is in hardcore denial” is kinda my jam, so i got excited and wrote almost four thousand words about this. 

eta: ao3 link! (now with a poor title because i am poor at titles)

.

.

In spite of the knowing looks they got from most of the flagship and at least half of high command, Jyn and Cassian were not involved. They were soldiers, and professionals, and far too focused on missions, and at any rate, were friends, and entirely platonic. Jyn felt about Cassian the same way she felt about Bodhi, or maybe Han (except without the usual desire to smack him upside the head).

Everyone seemed to treat them as a unit, but they were partners. They worked together. Of course they spent a lot of time together, but it wasn’t like they shared a room — although her own roommates, three world-weary women who Jyn had thought were above such nonsense, seemed continually surprised by her presence in her own damn bed, every single night cycle that she was on base.

But it seemed like, with little else for much of the flagship to do at the moment, gossip was everyone’s favorite pastime, and there was only so much to say about Han Solo and the princess before things drifted back around to the “heroes of Rogue One”.

At first, when it had still been amusing, she had conscripted Bodhi into spreading fake rumors about them, but they had both quickly discovered that there was essentially nothing that the stir-crazy base wouldn’t accept about Jyn and Cassian’s relationship, including but not limited to:

They had gotten it on in the shuttle on the way to Scarif

They had gotten it on at Yavin IV before leaving for Scarif

They had gotten it on at Scarif, in the citadel

Jyn was secretly pregnant with his child (she had thought that one would taper off, but it instead morphed into “well, she clearly wasn’t before, but I bet she is now”)

They had shared a bed in the medical frigate after Scarif (okay, that one actually was true, but it had just been because the beds were limited and the nightmares were awful, and nothing had happened but sleep)

They were secretly married

Some of it, she felt, was at least reasonable, but mostly it seemed like the Rebellion had, collectively, decided to live out their favorite holodramas vicariously through Jyn and Cassian. It wouldn’t have been so bad, if it had at least been spread around some — but no, nobody shared the same stories about Han and Leia, or Luke and Leia, or Han and Luke, or Baze and Chirrut —

(Okay, fair enough, Chirrut would gleefully answer yes to literally any question asked about his and Baze’s relationship, up to and including whether or not the two of them had formally adopted Jyn. Baze never, ever either confirmed or denied Chirrut’s answers, which was as good as admitting that he found them amusing.)

Nobody ever just accepted the truth, which was simply that they were partners who had a totally platonic relationship.

Entirely platonic relationship. No feelings of attraction or sexual tension on either side.

Which was good, because their current situation would be embarrassing as hell otherwise.

This stupid little moon didn’t even have a name, but it did have an Imperial presence, which had struck everyone as odd — it was barely more than a stop-off with some refueling stations, the sort of place where people end up when they’re just barely not hitting rock bottom, not a place any sane sentient would bother going to. So why had the Empire built a factory here?

Jyn’s theory, which Cassian had agreed was plausible, was that they’d put a refinery here because nobody ever came here of their own volition, and the only inhabitants were people who had to keep their heads down. Nobody was likely to stumble across it by accident, and there were no rebel or Partisan cells to muck up the works. It had made sense, but it had also meant that whatever they were making or refining here was probably something important that the Alliance needed to know about.

As it happened, in parts of the moon that were entirely uninhabited for reasons that had become very suddenly clear, there was a chemical compound in the dust that could be used as a caustic agent, when collected and purified, and there were any number of reasons that the Empire would want a chemical that would strip hydrogen off of pure water.

The downside to this was that if any of the dust got on any part of a human’s (and, presumably, most other sentients’) exposed skin, it would… be very bad, and very gross. It also tended to eat through clothing, but — in a design choice that now made total sense — not the stone from which all of the structures on the moon had been built.

(It had struck Jyn as odd that, even on a featureless rock orbiting a dull-gray gas giant, there were no windows on anything, and everything was made from the same rust-colored stone, except the durasteel refinery and ships.)

Naturally, they had gotten caught by a dust storm.

Naturally, their outerwear had been contaminated, meaning that their underwear would, very rapidly if left alone, also become contaminated, and Jyn didn’t even want to think about that scenario. They’d been thankfully close to an old refueling station that had been abandoned, and so hadn’t spent very long in the dust, but getting rid of their outermost layers had been immediately necessary.

At first, it hadn’t bothered her — because the both of them had been so focused on get it off get it off get it off that it had not occurred to Jyn, at least, and probably Cassian as well, that they would be stuck in this little stone building until the dust storm passed, with no or very few clothes.

Ultimately, they’d managed to get to safety quickly enough, and get the contaminated clothing off quickly enough, that they were left in underwear and undershirts, very carefully not looking at each other.

At least, she told herself, it wasn’t cold, and they weren’t anything more than sensible friends and partners acting pragmatically in a situation that had taken both of them off-guard.

(He wore boxer-briefs. Jyn had not, as such, needed this information, but now that she had it, it wouldn’t leave her brain. She had also made the mistake of looking at him, and catching a glimpse of… well, nothing, exactly, except a… well, a bulge, and that also would not leave her brain.)

“So, we’re leaving this out of the mission report, right?” she said in a low voice, and he made a noise of agreement. She glanced at him — he was sitting, (bare) elbows on his (bare) knees, with his forehead resting in one hand — and then quickly back away, determinedly ignoring the heat rising up the back of her neck.

In the back of her mind, she considered what would this be like if they had been a little slower, and he’d had to take off his shirt and maybe —

She coughed, and ran a hand over her face.

Even though he probably didn’t know anything more about it than she did, she still asked, “How long do these storms last?” with some desperation, and her voice came out at an embarrassingly-high pitch. She was glad he wasn’t looking at her, and couldn’t see her cringe at herself.

“The storm came on quickly,” he replied, and she told herself that she was imagining the strain in his voice. “The atmosphere is… thick, and cycles rapidly. It shouldn’t last too long.”

That was… a comfort.

(He was wearing an athletic undershirt, not a tee like she’d sort of expected, and so part of his chest was exposed, and —)

She stifled another cough.

“Good,” she choked, and vaguely wished for the ground to swallow her whole.

He probably wasn’t having the same trouble she was. He was more professional than she was, and he’d kept his eyes respectfully down the whole time. He was probably just embarrassed at being caught by the storm in the first place.

Jyn, on the other hand, was struggling.

It didn’t help that there was nothing to do in this Force-forsaken little hut except dwell on the fact that her (totally platonic) partner was half-naked ten feet away from her. She didn’t even have a pack of cards with which to play sab-- solitaire, not sabacc, just… something alone and engrossing that she could look at and occupy her mind with.

(The only thing worse than the awkward silence would have been to be playing a game opposite him and his… well, opposite him.)

She closed her eyes, and tried to summon any of Chirrut’s lessons on meditation. They’d been intended to help her center herself and channel her energy more efficiently (whatever that meant), but her concern right now was dousing the heat that rose in her belly every time her brain offered up that stupid image of his —

(It had just… been a while. That was all this was. Just… plain old sexual frustration, and hey, Cassian was a good-looking guy, there was nothing wrong with finding his half-naked body easy on the eyes. It didn’t mean anything. It didn’t.)

There were few things she could think of that would better dampen her stupid imagination than the memory of Chirrut’s guided meditation, but it wasn’t really helping.

Right, okay. 

Time to get drastic.

Jabba the Hutt. Picture the gummy eyes, and the slug-shape, and the tongue, and the rubbery texture of his flesh, and the slime, and the…

It worked, right up until she opened her eyes again and saw that Cassian had been running his hand through his hair, and now it was all mussed and messy like he’d been in bed, and —

Shit.

Dammit.

Okay.

That weird noise Jabba made when he moved, the guttural grunting — ugh, gross, just picture that happening in a bedroom, she wanted to vomit — the unwashed and vaguely-cheesy smell he gave off, that indulgent laugh like the worst slimy uncle imaginable. The casual cruelty, the greed. The way he kept attractive female slaves, forced them to dance for his amusement.

She let out a long, slow breath, and decided not to open her eyes again.

.

(Cassian could not stop seeing her legs. Even with his eyes closed and his head bowed, trying to mentally catalogue every single weapon he’d ever heard of just to spare his dignity, all he could see were long legs and the shape of her body in a skintight undershirt.

He wanted to die.)

.

It took three hours of horrid silence and even more horrid mental images, but finally, the dust storm passed, and shortly after, the locals’ droids — apparently programmed for immediate response in this situation, which made sense in retrospect — had swept the ground clean of the dust, so it was safe to walk outside again, even in sock-feet like Jyn and Cassian were.

Once back on their ship, they were able to put on spare sets of clothing — although at this point, Jyn would have made a toga out of a blanket, anything would do, just to not see this much of him anymore — and, still uncomfortably silent, get out of atmo.

The entire trip back was spent in the same awkward silence, carefully avoiding each other’s eyes and watching hyperspace pass by as though it was deeply fascinating. Luckily, they arrived back on the flagship halfway through the night cycle, and were able to return to their respective rooms without having to be seen, a) wearing different clothes than they’d left in, or b) desperately keeping a ten-foot space between them.

(Also, the showers were empty, which was good for Jyn to, ahem, work some things out.)

Cassian wrote and submitted the report, and Jyn signed off on it — no mention of the agonizing three hours spent in a stone hell-room, thank the Force — and between the report being finished and the, ah, showers, she figured that that was that.

Until the rumor mill started up again.

Someone — she wasn’t sure who, but was, on principle, going to blame Han Solo — had read between the lines of the mission report, and started asking, so, like, did they actually get caught in one of these dust storms? Or else the imagination-zeitgeist of the Rebellion had just decided that it would be great if that was the case.

And Jyn could not quite play it off like she had all the other rumors. Usually, she would roll her eyes and stalk off, but she found herself desperately denying them this time, even as every cell in her brain was screaming shut up shut up shut up!

As such, she had not… exactly… convinced anyone, even herself.

They were friends, good friends, the sort that she’d never really had before, and she wasn’t supposed to be feeling this… attraction to him. Wasn’t supposed to be imagining running her hands through his hair or his hips bucking against hers or waking up cradled in his arms or —

The snickers were almost as bad as the knowing glances, but not half as bad as the clawing discomfort that rose in her every time they were in the same room. She tried to tell herself that it wasn’t obvious to anyone else, that it was just her own heightened awareness, but Chirrut disabused her of that happy notion a few days after they got back:

“If your intention is to convince everyone that you and the Captain are not together,” he said lightly, voice carefully plucked clean of amusement, “you are not succeeding.”

“We aren’t,” she snapped, and his expression didn’t change.

“Of course not,” he replied. She watched him carefully, waiting for the other shoe to drop, which it did only moments later. “Yet.”

“We are friends,” she said through clenched teeth, and he smiled.

“Ah, I recall that tone of voice,” he sighed fondly. “Baze said the same words, in the same tone, many times in our youth.”

She had no adequate response to that, so she’d settled for stalking off, telling herself that she wasn’t skulking away like a dog with its tail between its legs, that she was a dignified adult who was walking away for good reasons, to do a better thing somewhere else.

Still, she could avoid him, more or less — or at least keep to only interacting with him in public — until the next mission they were sent on, which was only a week after returning from the one she was now thinking of as the hell-mission.

And they had not actually spoken to each other since the… situation.

Which, in retrospect, was a huge mistake.

None of it had been dealt with, it had only been given time to fester and linger in (at least) Jyn’s brain, and the more she thought of it — and the more she heard and remembered the rumors — the more tangled up her stomach got at the thought of being alone with him again, even as she really wanted to be alone with him again.

She was a big enough person to admit to herself that she was attracted to him. That was… not strange, even for platonic comrades in a time of war; in fact, she had it on good authority that no less than the princess herself had a crush on him, which she very definitely found amusing and which did not in any way inspire any kind of possessive or jealous feelings in her, because it didn’t.

Jyn had decided that avoidance was the solution, which she was now regretting, but committed to nonetheless. If she just... focused on the mission at hand, got through it, eventually things would just sort of... stop being this way, right? Her general philosophy with interpersonal issues was to ignore them until they went away, and this was no different.

It worked beautifully until they were all alone in hyperspace again and her thoughts… drifted.

He seemed agitated, eyes locked on the controls even though there was nothing new or unexpected there; even when he looked up, he wouldn’t look at her. He also seemed tense, shoulders slightly hunched, jaw clenched. The air between them was thick and heavy like cotton, almost unbreathable, and — Force be with her — they would be in hyperspace for eighteen standard hours.

There was no way they could do this. It had been bad enough when she had other things to do and focus on, but eighteen hours alone in hyperspace like this was going to drive her absolutely insane.

“All right, something has to give,” she snapped finally, and he half-glanced at her, as though afraid to actually look her in the face.

“Oh?” he replied, in a hoarsely-neutral tone, and didn’t elaborate. Of course, the bloody spy wasn’t going to give any ground on this. Half of what he did to get information was let other people fill in the blanks, he never offered up anything unless he had to (or, she recalled, very angry).

“Yeah,” she said, standing up and stalking away from the cockpit, to put some space between them so maybe she could breathe. It didn’t help. His presence still filled the room. “This is all… we’re being stupid, aren’t we?”

By the time she turned back to face him, he was standing, leaning against the armrest of the pilot’s chair, expression neutral. “Define stupid,” he said finally, and she growled in frustration.

“We’re partners,” she snapped. “We have to work together, we can’t be sitting here, all…” no adequate word would come to her, so she finished, a bit lamely, and with a shrug, “stupid. About this.”

Cassian blinked, opened his mouth to says something, then closed it again and ran a hand over his face. “That… did not answer my question,” he said, in a strained voice.

“You know good and damn well what I mean,” she snarled, the tension and rising embarrassment making her angry. He seemed to be biting his tongue, now looking away.

“This is about the last mission,” he said, with no question. “The dust storm.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, the dust storm,” she replied, annoyed. “You know, when we had to get almost naked and sit with each other for hours. And everybody’s talking about it back on the flagship. I bet that’s why Mothma sent us on this mission,” she added, and although she hadn’t thought of it before the words had been coming out of her mouth, they suddenly made a disturbing amount of sense. It didn’t have to be them, and they didn’t have to do it alone. But, oh, for whatever reason, Command thought it was best to send Jyn and Cassian, and only Jyn and Cassian, and (like the eager idiot she was) she had not questioned it.

Finally, there was a crack in his armor — rising color in his face, eyes now directed upward.

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” he admitted, after a long and uncomfortable moment.

If she was being honest, she wasn’t sure of that, herself. That she wasn’t the only one about to burn up from the inside-out with sexual frustration? That he’d been checking her out the same way she’d been checking him out? That she was being stupid and they were just platonic partners, obviously?

No — if that had been the case, if they were really both just platonic friends, he would have been genuinely confused by this conversation, not hedging his bets and holding back and refusing to show any emotion.

If he hadn’t been at least sort of thinking about it, he would have been a totally different kind of uncomfortable, squirming and trying to escape the situation, embarrassed and uneasy. It wouldn’t be the same kind of tension.

Maybe it was just her whimpering libido that was telling her that, but it made sense.

“I want the truth,” she said slowly, taking a step closer. He didn’t look at her.

“What do you want the truth to be?” he countered, still dangerously neutral, still watching the ceiling like it was the most interesting thing he’d ever seen. Of course he still wouldn’t give any information.

Cassian had survived all his years in Intelligence by not giving. Jyn was gonna have to take this jump, and hope that he’d meet her halfway once he saw for sure where she was going.

It took a moment to steel up her resolve, which she spent by walking up to him with every ounce of purpose and anger she could muster. He still wouldn’t look at her, eyes fixed on the ceiling, jaw clenched, whole body vibrating with tension.

She took a deep breath, and the words she had rehearsed — something self-assured, like I want to at least give them something real to gossip about, I want to touch you, I want you to touch me — died on her lips.

Instead, what came out was a slightly-wavering, much-quieter-than-intended, “That you want me.”

Abruptly, his eyes were locked on hers, neutral expression becoming calculating, guarded. Searching for a lie, maybe, or any indication that she was joking.

He didn’t respond, or at least not in the amount of time that she was willing to wait (which was… not much).

Closing her eyes (so she didn’t have to see anything in his face she might not want to), she leaned up and pressed her lips to his.

It was… not exactly the romantic moment she had hoped for. He was still frozen, all that tension stretched thin between them, rigid and unmoving, and -- shit. Shit.

Fuck.

She started to pull back, but then the tension snapped and he responded, moving in, hand catching the back of her neck and pulling her back to him; she was taken a little off-guard, and had to catch herself against his chest, whole body pressed against his as her arms snaked around his neck and his other arm wrapped around her waist.

Cassian stumbled against the pilot’s seat, but didn’t break the kiss until she pushed him down into it and, in the same motion, straddled his hips. He looked… a little dazed, pupils dilated, face flushed. She doubted she looked any better (or, since he actually looked pretty fucking good like this, from this angle, any worse).

“Like I said,” she breathed, with more composure than she felt, “we’re being stupid.”

His lips curved into a smile, and he murmured, “I guess so,” before pulling her back into another searing kiss.

.

.

(coda—

“So,” Han said, drawing out the syllable suggestively, “what I’m hearing is, the trick is to go to an awful moon with murderous dust-storms.”

“I think Leia would just let you die,” Jyn replied blandly, without looking up from the datapad where she was trying to write a coherent report that left out all the details nobody else actually needed to know, and Han appeared to think about it for a moment, then scowled.

“Who said anything about Leia?” he grumbled. “I could’ve been talking about… Amilyn. Or, hell, Luke. Or —”

Jyn sorted and walked away, leaving him still spluttering and coming up with increasingly-ridiculous names.)