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a-spes · 4 months ago

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| DEVIOUS LIES — Part two (8.790 words).

| Summary — Anon Request — When your friend asked you out for a drink, you didn't think much about it. Yet, maybe you should've, because that night ruined your life. It has been two years, and you can't stop think about what you lost. Your job, your friends, your lover, and even your mind was left in that motel room.

| Tags & warnings — Avenger!Natasha Romanoff x Avenger!Reader, AoS!OC x Avenger!Reader, Other Avengers, angst without comfort, cheating, mental health issues, suicidal ideations, self depreciation, mentions of SA&SH, manipulation, toxic relationship (OCxR), revenge porn, use of drugs.

| Author's notes — I don't know how I feel about that second part, i'm not sure i like it, but now it's written it costs me nothing to share. So here we are. I can just hope that I managed to convey, at least a little, the emotions I wanted to. And, most importantly, take care of yourself.

| MOODBOARD — ✧ — MASTERLIST — ✧ — TO SAY SOMETHING

| Part one. Part two. Part three.

Almost a year has gone by, and it means one thing: in a few weeks, it’s going to be Natasha's birthday, again. The woman is not sure how she feels about it. She never really had a birthday before she joined the Avengers, and despite the years that have passed since, she still feels a certain awkwardness at this time of the year. Especially as the boys tended to do too much.

She could only pretend to match their enthusiasm. A slight smile spreads across her face as she takes a sip from her drink, staying silent. She has been listening to her teammates talking about her birthday’s party for almost half an hour now. She stopped trying to avoid it a long time ago, when she realized how much they enjoyed organizing this stupid party. She can deal with anything they’re going to come up with if she gets to see their smiles in exchange. Her sentence won’t last more than a few hours, but the memories are going to stick with them for eternity, and it has no price.

"Wait, you know what?” someone asked. It was Clint, and by the mischievous smile on his face, the redhead already knew that she wouldn't appreciate the next words that are going to come out of his mouth. “I think we should have the mascot come over again," he added, his eyes not leaving hers. "What? It was funny to have a cartoon version of you running around," he defended himself when he saw her glance darkening.

"You know what? Do whatever you want," she mumbled, “it’s not as if you were asking for my opinion anyway,” she eventually gave in. Sometimes, you have to know how to pick your battles, and that is one she definitely cannot win, not when all the others seem to appreciate the idea.

"That’s such a great idea!” one exclaimed, and this time it was Peter Parker, “Mr. Stark, do you think they would accept to come again?” he asked the man.

"Obviously!" Tony replied without an ounce of hesitation, laughing at the question. The man thought it was a stupid thing to ask, "she likes you too much to miss your birthday,” he explained, pointing at the redhead while saying those words. "What? She pretends it’s not true, but I know she is lying. I can see right through her and, believe me, she’ll be here," he explained when he noticed the confused looks of his teammates.

"Who’s she?" a voice asked, cutting short to Tony’s rambling. That’s the question that has been on everyone’s minds, but that no one dared to ask out loud, except for one of them — And it hasn’t been Natasha, it is Steve that spoke first.

On the contrary, the woman remained silent because she didn’t need words to express herself, a silent conversation taking place between the billionaire and her through a simple glance. Even if she already has her suspicions, and is almost sure that she knows the answer to that question, she wants him to say it, refusing to believe it otherwise.

The moment she saw the box, she was intrigued by it, something drawing the woman to the small package that no one claimed as theirs. It’s almost as if it came out of nowhere, no one knowing who left it here, or what may be inside the black box. At first, she thought it was some joke, but she knew they were being honest when saying they had nothing to do with the gift. And if she had expected a lot of things to be wrapped in the red ribbon, she definitely wasn’t ready for a ghost from her past to emerge from it.

A quick glance before she suddenly closes the box again, that’s all it took for the redhead to know who was behind that gift. The only thing she could think about was how — How did it happen without any of them noticing your presence? Despite the appearances, and the smile she was trying to keep on, the woman was shaken — Why would you do that, more than two years after your break up? Could it be that you are that desperate?

"Is everything okay?" Clint asked, being the only one to seem to notice a change in Natasha’s behavior. At least, everyone had enough restraint to not ask the question that burns their lips — What’s inside the box?

She wouldn’t have answered if one of them had asked. She wouldn’t even have opened the gift if she had known that it was from you, and that’s probably why you left it on the table, avoiding giving it to her directly. Smart girl, she thought. At first sight, the woman couldn’t tell it was coming from you but there was no doubt remaining once she saw the content — There is only one person on Earth that cares enough to give her such a gift. A person that constantly looks after her, guessing what the redhead wasn’t telling.

A person that she used to love.

A person that couldn’t be here, was she? The woman can’t help but glance around but she can’t find your face. What was she expecting anyway? To see you in the corner of the room with a bright smile and your arms open for her to throw herself in a hug? That was stupid, and so is the hint of hope she felt when she opened the box. The others told her many times she has to turn the page, but she doesn’t seem ready to let you go. Even after two years, she is still craving your presence as much as before.

The thought of it puts to shame the redhead who knows she shouldn’t hold on to the past, especially when the past in question has a pretty face and breaks her heart. Even after what you’ve done to her, she has spent hours crying, praying for you to come back. Even after listening to the others assuring her that she deserves better, she couldn’t forget how you’ve always been the most caring, and strong, and beautiful person she has ever met in her life.

You weren’t horrible. Were you?

Sometimes, she thinks you are a monster.

Sometimes, she thinks she is, for not listening to you that day.

That day, she let her anger speak for her, something she swore she would never do again. When she started to realize that, maybe, she should’ve listened to your version of the events, it was too late. At the time, she couldn’t bear to hear the sound of your voice or see your voice, but after two years, as the memory of it starts to fade away, she surprised herself to miss it.

Except that Fury had refused to tell her where you were. She tried to ask nicely, to beg, and even to threaten the man, but none of it worked. He said that you needed time, that you’ll be back when you are ready, not before. Despite her frustration, the woman accepted it. After all, she is the one to blame, the one that puts herself in such a situation. She could only hold on to the fact that, one day, you’ll be back. Right? As the days go by, the likelihood of ever seeing you again is gradually diminishing. Some nights, when she can’t sleep, she stays up, eyes fixed on her laptop’s screen — Maybe she could give fate a helping hand? She knows she could find you easily. Yet, despite her urge to do it, she has always ended up closing her laptop without starting the research.

She has to trust Fury, she repeats to herself. Even if she sometimes disagrees with the man, even if it’s frustrating, she has to believe him when he says that you are safe.

Some other nights, all she can feel is anger, and hatred. The redhead is lost, and scared, again, something she never thought she would feel again the day you two met. What if it was true, and you really cheated on her? Then, you could do it again if she forgives you, because history always repeats itself, and you are no exception to the rules of the universe. She knows how people tend to promise a lot of things that they don’t mean, especially when they are desperate, which is exactly what you’ve been that day. She couldn’t forget the look on your face when she dragged you out of the building, the despair in those bright eyes, glistening with tears. This is the only thing she can remember when she thinks about you. Not the good moments you’ve shared, only the brutality of the end of your relationship.

You've abandoned her, and so did she.

It has been three since she last saw you, and almost a year since her birthday party, but the woman couldn’t stop thinking about it. She didn’t take the gift, leaving the jewelry in the box, and the box on a shelf. She hasn't touched it since. How could she when just the sight of it was already too much to bear?

Every day, when she wakes up, it is one of the first things she sees, and one of the last when she goes to sleep. If it doesn’t feel right to the woman to take the gift, it doesn’t feel right to throw it in the bin either, so it stayed here as a constant reminder of what she has done. Every time she thinks she is finally over it, the box rekindles her doubts. There are some things she can’t quite understand about the situation, and why you would give her such a gift, two years after she kicked you out, is one of them.

Maybe it was a poisoned gift. Maybe it was a sick trick to make her feel guilty, a way to get her to crawl back to you. Beside these possibilities, she couldn’t think of any others that were likely, and she was afraid to admit that your plan was working. The box was a permanent reminder of your existence, something she couldn’t get herself to give away because of those dumb feelings she was experiencing. Somehow, she was holding on to that last piece of your years together after she threw away everything else with the help of the team.

The pictures, the clothes, the gifts, even your favorite cutlery has been burned a few days after you left them. It is almost as if you’ve never stepped a foot into the building, as if you’ve never existed. The woman was fine with the idea of pretending that nothing happened — She was fine with the idea of erasing every remaining part of your relationship.

Except that black box. It is stupid how she hangs onto that last proof of the relationship she once had with you. She had burned everything, but she couldn’t get herself to do the same with that gift. Maybe because she knew that she could never erase you completely from her life. She surely could pretend, it is a game she is really good at, but you would always be on the back of her mind because memories don't go away as easily as objects do.

Since she had opened the box, doubt had been creeping inside of her — What if? What if she has been wrong the whole time? What if she should have listened to you? Give you a second chance? That day, her reaction had been dictated by anger and hatred, feelings that still inhabit her soul, but have faded over the years. For two years, she had been sure that she made the right choice — At least, that’s what everyone kept telling the woman, and she listened to their comforting words.

But since she opened the box, she was no longer sure of anything. She wasn’t the one that wanted you gone in the first place. She surely needed a bit of space before being able to talk with you properly, but only a few days, maybe a few weeks, not two years, and definitely not more than that. That little box only worsened her doubt because who would be desperate enough to still cling to the person they betrayed, years after the events? A person truly in love. She had kept her doubts for herself before that day. If she is almost sure of the identity of the person who gave her the box, because there is only one person on that planet that cares enough to gift her something so meaningful, there are still a lot of questions to which she doesn’t have the answers — For example, how did you manage to sneak into the building without everyone knowing? She now knows that someone knew the whole time.

“Tell me,” she firmly asked the man, leaving little room for discussion.

No one pointed out the thing he has said about the mascot, the subject of the conversation quickly changed after that. Except, while they were talking about which flavor the cake should be, Natasha could think of nothing but Tony’s words — “She likes you too much to miss your birthday”, “she pretends it’s not true but I know she is lying.” So when everyone eventually decided to go back to their rooms, around two in the morning, she stayed a bit longer in the common room in hope of getting some information.

“Sorryy, I can’t, I don’t know anything,” the man replied, indifferent to her tone, “anything at all,” he repeated, chuckling like a child who has done something wrong.

The woman sighs, pinching her nose as she takes a deep breath, trying to not lash out her frustration on the man. The conversation isn’t exactly going the way she had hoped, Tony refusing to answer her question no matter how many times she has already asked. She even tried to blackmail him, but he was persistent in pretending that he didn’t know anything. When he almost falls on the ground trying to get a few steps back, it has been the last straw for the woman. Gladly, someone entered the room before she could hit him so hard that it would have sobered him in an instant.

"Is everything okay?" the voice asked, and both of them immediately shut up to turn their heads toward the woman who just entered the room, Astrid. She is leaning in the doorway, her gaze alternating between Tony and Natasha.

She hates her. Not as much as she hates you, but she still feels resentful toward the agent. When she smiles, when she speaks, even when she is just here, existing, the woman can’t help but hate her from the depths of her heart. Gladly, she rarely sees her, as an agent of the S.H.I.E.L.D., she is only around when they have outstanding missions. If Natasha had a choice, she would’ve thrown her away with you that day.

"She wants me to admit that her girlfriend was the one in the costume," he immediately replied, "but sshht, we can’t let her know that!" he added, holding his index finger in front of his mouth for a few seconds before leaving the room giggling.

"I know what happened," she eventually said when she noticed that Natasha was about to leave after a few seconds when they glanced at each other in silence. "Th- That night, in the motel room~," she added, her voice being hesitant. Those words made the redhead stop in her tracks.

"If you're about to rub in my face how you've ruined my life, you can shut up," she immediately cut her, not wanting to listen to the woman, not if it’s to tell her about how she fucked the woman she loves. Her voice was full of anger, just like the murderous look in her eyes. The only thing that prevented the woman from immediately leaving the room was the thing she saw in the other’s eyes. Her attitude betrayed her emotions, a mix of guilt, sadness, and shame, which aroused her curiosity.

With a nod, she ordered her to continue.

That morning, as many others, you are woken up by your girlfriend’s gentle touches, her fingers slowly tracing circles on your stomach. A hum of satisfaction escapes your lips before your turn around, nuzzling your head further into the crook of her neck.

How could you have known it would be the last time? How could you have possibly guessed that the routine you’ve got used to would be broken so quickly?

Every morning, it is the same thing, and while the former spy has no problems getting up early, you definitely can’t say the same for yourself. She is always awake before you are and, even if she had never admitted it, you are sure that she takes a few minutes to observe your sleeping form. She loves seeing you so peaceful and calm, being able to have a glimpse of your face without those worry lines, without the marks of your anxieties.

She is always the one who wakes you up, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. There is no better way to start a day than Natasha’s sweet words and caresses. It’s her fault if you never want to get out of bed, wishing every morning that you could stay in that bed, next to her, for the rest of your life. Sometimes, you suggest that you tell the others you are sick, just to spend a day together, but she just laughs, dismissing your idea.

But all the good things must come to an end, right?

"It's time to get up, milaya," she softly said in your ear, her breath tickling your skin, "Astrid won't be happy if you are late again," she added when the only answer you gave her was a groan of discontent.

"They won't say anything if I am late once, it's okay", you mumbled, her words not being enough to convince you to leave the comfort of her arms.

Especially when you realize that there is nothing to get excited about the day ahead of you, in perspective, only hours spent in an office, listening to men who think they know everything better than you do. Today, you are supposed to attend an important meeting alongside Astrid, and you still don’t know why you volunteered. The thought of the paperwork and the efforts that you will have to put in pretending that you are actually happy to be here definitely don’t worth your pay.

Except that you’ve lied to Natasha, and she knows it. This is definitely not the first time that you are being late, it happens almost every day, to the point that the day you are in time can probably be counted on your hands. Gladly, when you are coming in the S.H.I.E.L.D.’s quarters, it's Astrid who’s your supervisor, and she appears to also be your best friend. Most of the time, she is kind enough to accept to close her eyes on your delays. Today, you came in only ten minutes late, and the woman was somehow impressed, expecting you to be later than that.

“You’re late, again,” she replied, obviously waiting for an excuse that you don't have. She would know if you are lying to her, and you don't have the energy for that kind of game today, and you could see that the woman neither. She was starting to get tired of every day starting with the same bullshit coming from your mouth.

“I am so, so, sorry,” you said to her for what may be the tenth time since you’ve entered the office. She is walking fast, and you are trying to catch up with the black-haired woman, who is also your superior within the S.H.I.E.L.D. “Please, don’t tell Fury,” you begged, but all she did was roll her eyes, and give you a file when you eventually reached her office. You quickly glanced at it before closing it again, your attention focused on the woman, “Astrid, I am serious. He is going to give me more paperwork if you do. Or worse. Imagine if he forces me to train the new recruits, you know I can’t do that again. Please, …,” you added, looking at her imploringly.

“And what do I have in exchange?” she sighed, turning around to look at you, one eyebrow raised. Despite her serious expression, you know she was trying to not laugh. She may be your boss, but above all she is your friend, and you both know that she would never tell Fury about your delays. Even if she has threatened you to do so a few times in the past, she has never actually done it. Yet, this time she felt like she needed something in exchange, she had covered for you enough time for free, and you were happy to thank your friend with whatever she may want.

“Anything you want!” you replied, desperate but no less honest.

“Tonight, after work, you pay me a drink, deal?” she asked after pretending to think for a few seconds. In reality, she already knew what she wanted from you. She has thought about asking you out since the moment you met, something you’ve never noticed, always reducing her to the role of a friend, and not keeping up on the clues she was leaving you. Tonight, however, she will be clearer than she has ever been.

“Deal!” you immediately said, accepting the proposal without thinking twice about it. "Thank you. Thank you so, so much. You are the best," you added, kissing your friend on the cheek before leaving the room quickly, a sight that made the woman chuckle.

It is a deal that makes you both happy. You have met Astrid at the Academy, when you were both trainees that dreamed of joining the S.H.I.E.L.D. without even knowing if you were good enough for that. The two of you quickly became close — That’s the kind of thing that happens where you are the only two females of your promotion. Either you hate each other over your dead bodies, or you grow so close that you become inseparable.

Except that, since you've both achieved your dreams and joined S.H.I.E.L.D, something changed in your relationship. It wasn’t your fault, nor hers, that you had less time to see each other, your jobs taking a lot of your time and energy. Then you've been assigned on a long-term mission with the Avengers, and you’ve spent less time at the S.H.I.E.L.D.’s quarters despite still working for the organization. Then you've met Natasha, and you feel like you’ve slightly grown apart from each other after you’ve announced to her your new relationship. On the whole, you had less time to spend with your best friend, and the promises to make up for the lost time have never been kept, not until today. That deal was the perfect occasion to spend a bit of time together outside of the office work.

You both really hoped that this night would make things back as they were before.

"You know, I love her," she confessed to the redhead, her voice being barely louder than a whisper as she felt tears filling her eyes. "Since the day we met, I have loved her. That's what I told her, that night, when we went out," she admitted, and Natasha felt her heart pounding in her chest, her hands were shaking with apprehension, “but she rejected me. She loves you so much, too much," she sadly chuckled, but the redhead felt no relief when she heard those words because they were not explaining the pictures. She can't cry, not now, not in front of that woman.

"Continue," she ordered, feeling that the woman had more to say than that. She already knew that Astrid loved you, you may be the only one that hadn't seen it, or maybe you were pretending, or maybe you were blinded by your love for Natasha.

"I didn't plan to do that, you know," she started, carefully looking at the spy, "but I was so desperate that night, and I-," she said, except she was unable to finish her sentence, the words stuck in her throat.

The past three years, she had kept the truth a secret. At first, she thought it was better that way. The woman was ashamed of her actions, and she was relieved when heard that you’ve been transferred to another department, and she thought that her secret would be safe. Except that, if everyone acted as if you’ve never existed, her mind didn’t allow her to forget. Every hour of every day, you were in her mind, and the longer she thought about that night, the biggesther guilt became, until the burden was too heavy to bear. Tonight, hearing them argue about you, has been the last straw.

“What did you do?” she asked, sensing that something was wrong. She didn’t like the feeling that was creeping inside of her, “what. did. you. do.?” she asked once again, but more firmly that time, when the other didn’t immediately answer her question. As she saw the hesitation, she reduced the distance between them in a second, her hand gripping the collar of Astrid’s shirt that she pins to the wall abruptly, “tell me. Now,” she insisted as the interaction only reinforced the bad feeling she had.

That morning, unlike the others, you woke up alone. There haven’t been the gentle caresses of your girlfriend to wake you up, nor her sweet words to coax you into getting up. No, that day, it was only yourself, draped into the cold sheets, and it felt so strange, the silence and the loneliness of the room. Sadly, it has not been the exception you’ve wished it would be, but only the first of too many mornings like that.

In the sleepy state you were in, it took you a few seconds to realize that something was wrong, and almost a minute before you noticed that you weren’t home. You couldn’t even recognize the place you were in, only knowing that it looked like a hotel, a shitty one if you might say. The room was small, simple, and not-so-comfortable. There was something in the ambience that gave you an uneasy feeling about the whole thing, but you were unable to say what it was exactly.

Your head is throbbing, and you are definitely feeling nauseous, but you know that’s not the problem. Your physical distress isn’t the cause of the weight on your chest, the one that makes your breath aching, it’s something else that your mind can’t comprehend yet. It’s all these inconsistencies. The missing memories of last night, the unknown room, the fact that you are alone,... you don’t remember drinking that much last night. You may not be the most responsible person that planet has known, but you know how to handle yourself. Usually.

Could you have possibly drunk that much?

The day has barely started, but you already know it is going to be a rough one. If only you knew how right you were, maybe you would have taken a few more hours of sleep, enjoying the comfortable peace of your old life a bit longer before joining the chaos. Yet, you had no means to guess that your day would go that way.

It's a note left on the bedside table that answered all your questions, easing some of the worries that were creeping inside of you. Someone has written the following words : “Couldn’t get you home because of how drunk you were. don’t worry about being late today, I won’t tell Fury. however, had to go on a mission, be careful when you go home. I left you a bit of money, it should be enough to pay for the room and an Uber. Love you.” The message might not have been signed, but you can easily recognize Astrid’s handwriting. A smile spreads across your lips as you are reassured, the situation not being as bad as your mind made it look.

Some memories of last night flew back in your mind, but it’s only a glimpse of what happened, a lot of the events staying unknown to yourself. The last thing you can remember is the conversation you had with Astrid, when she admitted that she loved you and you replied that you too, thinking she meant as friends because you couldn’t see her any other way, not when you were already engaged in a relationship. The rest of the exchange is confused, and you are not sure what’s real and what has been made up by alcohol. Even today, you are still not sure.

Maybe you’ve really drunk too much that night.

Knowing that you’ve been with Astrid the whole time was reassuring, and you are no longer as bothered by the absence of memories. For a moment, you thought you'd been kidnapped by some weird man. As you regain your composure, your thoughts become clearer and you decide that the first thing you should do is to send a message to your girlfriend. She must be so worried, and your heart aches at the thought that you might be a source of problem for the woman you love.

It is not your kind to not keep your promises, and you’ve told her you would be home last night. It is not your kind either to not answer her messages or calls. In reality, you are quite the opposite, always sending her hundreds of messages when you are out with your friends. The only reason she hasn’t got after you is because she knew you were with Astrid, and she trusted you. However, the sweet messages are going to have to wait because, when you try to turn your phone on, you only encounter a black screen, a sign that you’ve run out of battery. Obviously, your friend didn’t think to leave you a charger.

You sigh, admitting your defeat. Shaking your phone surely won’t change the situation. For the moment, there is nothing more you can do, except hoping that Natasha won’t be too angry. As you are getting ready, your mind is focused on how to earn the redhead’s forgiveness — Maybe you could stop to buy her some flowers? You hate it, when the two of you are arguing. It doesn’t happen a lot, but it’s never pretty, and the mere thought that it might happen was already hurting.

As you definitely couldn’t go back to the compound by yourself, not knowing how far you were and being in a pitiful state, you decided to use the money left by Astrid to call a cab, as she instructed you to do. It’s not before you enter the car that you realize how late you actually were. It is almost one in the afternoon, and if you are not an early riser, like your girlfriend who is always up by six at the latest, you rarely get up after ten.

It has been a thirty minutes drive back to the compound, and the whole time you were thinking about two things: taking a shower, and leaning into your girlfriends’ arms. You are so exhausted, physically and mentally, that you’ve decided to skip work today — You were already so late that it wouldn’t make a big difference anyway. The journey was long, and those thirty minutes felt like hours.

Soon enough, you started to suffocate into your own mind, then skin. You felt so sweaty, and dirty, that it quickly became unbearable. Maybe it was the effects of the alcohol, or maybe because you’ve slept in a seedy motel, but the only thing you wanted was to get rid of the clothes you were wearing and the uncomfortable state you were in as soon as possible.

When you enter the compound, you find it empty, and so is the room you are sharing with the woman. If you frown, you don’t think much about it. If the building is rarely empty, it sometimes happens when emergencies are called. A whine escapes your lips as you realize that, if it’s true, they are going to be mad at you for not being here when they needed it. You can already feel your mind losing itself to self-hatred thoughts, as you mutter to yourself how stupid you are. You are going to need more than a few flowers to earn their forgiveness. The fact that JARVIS confirmed that everyone was at the S.H.I.E.L.D.'s quarters didn’t, you would have preferred to hear that they went to the restaurant without you rather than that.

Tears brimming your eyes, you quickly put your phone to charge. It is only when you get out of the shower, twenty minutes later, that you saw the missed calls and messages from Natasha. The most recent ones were sent a few minutes ago. There were too many of them for you to take time to read everything so you just sent her a quick text that said: “sorry, my battery was dead, and I couldn’t answer your calls. I’ll explain everything, I promise. see you soon. love you.” A message she saw but she didn’t answer, which is unusual and an obvious hint of how angry she probably is.

Despite your decision to not work today, you still end up in the S.H.I.E.L.D.’s quarters. You are almost running in the corridors, going to the meeting room where you find your girlfriend, and the rest of the Avengers. When you stumble into the room, a deadly silence descends. None of them greeted you, and the only reaction you got was Fury’s nod when you started mumbling excuses for your late arrival. While your eyes immediately landed on the redhead, she didn’t glance at you once of the entire meeting. The sight made your heart sink. You love her, but you have to admit that the spy is scary when she has that stern expression on her face, one that leaves no room for discussion.

The safest decision was to sit on the furthest chair, leaving her space until you get the opportunity to explain yourself. Something that you hadn't had a chance to do before a few more hours, when you stumbled into her in the corridors. You have been lost in your mind, having a hard time focusing on your work. Earlier, when the meeting ended, she immediately left the room, not leaving you a chance to exchange a word with her, and it has been bugging you since.

“Please, wait,” you said, already begging the woman. When she heard your voice, she stopped, allowing you to gently grab at her arm so she didn't go. She could, if she wanted to, and a part of her did want to run away, but the rest of her knows that this conversation can’t be avoided. “Listen, I- I am sorry,” you started once you were sure she was willing to listen to your excuses, “I should have warned you, but I couldn’t, my phone’s battery was dead and, and- honestly? I don't remember much of what happened last night. All I know is that once was enough. It won't happen again,” you chuckled sadly. When you woke up that morning, you promised to yourself that it was the last time you drank that much. A promise you kept, and three years later, you still haven’t touched a bottle of alcohol. “I promise, 'tasha. Please, don't be mad at me for that, or at least tell me how I can make up for my mistake,” you said, and the woman knew she had heard enough.

“Seriously?” she scoffed, breaking free of your grip. “I can’t believe you are that stupid,” she said, as she started to walk away. But if she didn’t want to hear the sound of your voice any more, you, however, weren’t done yet.

"I know I’ve made a mistake, but I am fine, isn’t it the most important?” you asked, starting to follow. Except that, when she heard your steps in her back, she accelerated her pace. “I promise to be more careful next time but, you know, I can handle myself for one night. Well, I might have drunk a bit too much, but Astrid was wi~,” you tried to explain, except she cut short your ramblings. To say, eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but the woman quickly cut you. She scoffed again, in disbelief this time.

"You are really stupid, aren't you?” she said, stopping in her tracks, and you almost ran into her, surprised by her sudden stop. A few more seconds passed before she turned around to face you, her posture matching her stern expression. “Do you think I don't know what happened last night, with Astrid? Do you really think I wouldn’t have known the truth?” she added, taking a step forward for every question she asked, and you took one back every time, until your back hit the walls. You would certainly have found the situation hot if she didn’t look like she was about to murder you.

“W- what?” you said, “you are mad because I went out with a friend. That’s the problem? Astrid is the problem?" you snapped, starting to feel frustrated about the whole situation.

You are tired, and the only thing you’ve wanted to do since you opened your eyes that morning — Throwing yourself in your girlfriend’s arms — was impossible to do. You hadn’t expected the woman to give you such a hard time. You knew she could be jealous sometimes, you’ve already had arguments about that in the past, but you’ve always been understanding because you know that her jealousy isn’t caused by a lack of trust. This feeling is fuelled by her own insecurities and past. Except that, that time, it was too much. The way she wouldn't listen to your excuses is seriously hitting on your nerves.

"Don't you dare to lie to me,” she said. For a moment, you thought she was going to hit you, but she took a step back before she could do that. She was angry too, taking deep breaths in an attempt to ease the feeling. “I trusted you,” she eventually added but her tone was different — The anger left her voice, replaced by pain. “I trusted you and, most importantly, I loved you,” she whispered, turning around to see you one last time. “After everything I have done for you, I can't believe that's how you are thanking me. You know, I really thought you were different, better," she laughed, trying very hard to not throw you against the walls or worse, to cry. The most insufferable was the look in your eyes, the false innocence. She was tired of pretending, she had given you enough chances to tell her the truth, “but you’re not,” but now, she was done trying.

That is the last time the two of you talked. The next time you’ve seen her, she hasn’t been kind enough to let you have a chance to explain things. She was done trying, and so were you. The last words she said are still ringing in your head, even years later. Maybe if you'd chased her once again that day, things would have ended differently, but you haven’t moved. You couldn’t, petrified by the conversation that just took place, you have just watched the redhead walking away without glancing back.

It’s only when you enter the break room that you understand the whole conversation you had with Natasha. No one was here, but the walls had been covered with pictures of yourself. At first, you thought it was a prank from your teammates’ but the pictures were all but innocent. You felt your heart sink when you took down one of the photos to get a closer look at it, and tears in your eyes when you realized that you were nude in those.

It was you, in bed, with Astrid. Your face doesn’t entirely show but you can easily recognize yourself and the bed you’ve woken up in that morning. There were dozens of different pictures, but all showed similar scenes: your bodies against each other as you are obviously sharing an intimate moment. Something that you should only share with one person on that Earth. A person that is definitely not Astrid.

Except that the more you look at those pictures, the more foreign they feel. You are sure you are the one in the pictures, but you are still unable to remember what happened. Slowly, doubt creeps into your heart — Did you drink that much last night?

So much that you betrayed the woman you swore to love until the sun dies?

You feel tears welling up in your eyes. You are suddenly overwhelmed by a bunch of emotions that you can’t describe, but that are definitely not pleasant. It is a mix of confusion, anger, guilt, and disgust. The pictures speak for themselves, and they leave little room for doubt about what you were doing — And you were surely not just sleeping. The woman was on top of you, her mouth closed to your neck, maybe she was leaving soft kisses against your skin, maybe she was whispering sweet things in your ears, you don’t know. But the thing you were focused on was her hand hidden by the sheets, leaving only your imagination to complete the scene. It wasn’t the only picture of that kind: they were all picturing similar scenes. You can easily understand her rage and hatred earlier because you are now sharing those feelings with your girlfriend, just for different reasons.

"What's wrong sweetheart?" a voice said, pulling out of your mind. It was Astrid, who just entered the room. She glanced around before looking back at you, a sad smile spreading on her lips when she notices the tears that are soaking your face. and you saw Astrid entering the room. She looks around, a sorry look on her face. "I am sorry,” she started, and you could feel she was looking for the right thing to say, “I- I sent the pictures to the wrong person. When I realized, I tried to explain to Romanoff but, well… you know how she is,” she explained, shrugging as if she was trying to make you believe she had actually tried to, “she wouldn't listen to me, and they- they did that before I could stop them. It doesn’t please me either," she added, reminding you that you weren’t the only one suffering from the situation. Except she seemed to deal with the situation better than you do. As she talked, she slowly walked closer to you, accompanying each of her sentences with a few steps forward until she was close enough to wrap you in her arms.

You didn’t get the energy to push her away.

"Did we.. ?" you asked, but your voice broke before you could finish your sentence. It felt too difficult to say those words out loud — “Did we hook up? Did I cheat on Natasha?” But the woman doesn’t need the words to be said, she seems to read in your mind the end of your sentence.

"Of course we did, what kind of question is that?" she replied, frowning. She seems to be surprised by your question. For a second, the hand that was slowly caressing the back of your head stopped. The woman pulled back a little, just so she could see your face. "Why? Do you regret it?" she asked, and for an instant she seemed to be genuinely worried about your reaction, "because you didn't seem to last night, when you cried my name,..." she whispered in your ear. You could feel her breath tickling your skin but it wasn’t a pleasant feeling, unlike when Natasha does it.

Everything felt so much. Her voice, her touch, her presence so close to you, was now unbearable. As she remembers the night you’ve spent, a soft smirk spreads on her lips, but you are definitely not sharing her feelings. “Of course we did.” The words loop back into your mind, it seeps in like a poison that quickly takes over your whole being. Soon, you are paralyzed by an awful feeling. It hurts, but at the same time you are not sure you are actually feeling something, your body and mind feeling so foreign to you — If you wanted it, why does it feel so wrong?

At that moment, if you had been able to move, you would have ripped your ears off just so you wouldn’t hear her voice any more, and maybe you would have done the same with your skin. It felt like the only way to get rid of your overwhelming feelings. Suddenly, the reassuring touch of your best friend made you feel gross, and so do her sweet words — But if she said that you did it, and wanted it, then it must be true, right?

You have seen the pictures, they are in your hands, right under your eyes. You can see yourself betraying the woman you love and in those, you really don't give the impression that you didn’t want to. On the contrary.

"No, no, it- it's not that, it’s just…," you eventually managed to say, but you are hesitating and unsure of yourself. There are too many thoughts and words clouding your head, so many ways you could react and yet, none of what you could say or do felt right. "It’s just that I don’t even remember last night,” you admitted, feeling ashamed about it, “I mean, did we- you know,... for real?" you asked softly but you were not even listening to Astrid’s answer, the question was more for yourself in reality. "Sorry, I have to go, see you later", you said, interrupting the woman. Somehow, you regained control over your body, just enough to push the other away and leave the room. You are not sure where you are going, but as far from that room as you can is already a good start.

That's where she found you when she came home that night, sitting on the bathroom's floor, the pictures in your hands.

Your hand is still wrapped tightly around the pictures, but you didn’t notice it. Not before being back home, in the room you are sharing with Natasha — Or were sharing, you thought, unsure about how the situation would unfold. It may be the last time you set a foot in that room that has been your safe place for months. Before you could completely break down, you decided to take a shower, thinking that, maybe, the steaming water would be enough to ease your mind. You took two showers. Then three, then four, and maybe more. You can’t be sure, you’ve stopped counting. All you knew was that it hasn’t been enough to get rid of the uneasy feelings and thoughts. You’ve scrubbed yourself until your skin was so sensitive that even the touch of the towel has been painful — But maybe you deserved it.

The rest of the day is a blur, and you are not sure what time it is. You’ve spent hours on the bathroom’s floor, your left hand clenched around the picture while the right one was holding the towel. Your head was so empty, but so full at the same time. That’s how she found you when she came home that night, and if she had been tempted to wrap you in her arms when she saw your pitiful state, the conversation she just had with the others discouraged her to do so — You didn’t deserve her pity. They are right when they say that you are not the victim: you are the one that cheated on her, and she needs to be firm, stern. You knew how hard it is for the woman to trust someone and yet, you still broke the fate she had put in you after years of making her dream of a better future.

"Oh, so you remember now?" she coldly said to you when she entered the room. You didn’t move, not even your eyes to look at her, but if you did, you would have seen that the woman was leaning in the doorway with her arms crossed. Maybe you would have also seen that her coldness was only a facade, and that she was as close as you were from breaking down.

You stayed silent, unable to say anything. The words were stuck in your clenched throat, and they aren’t feeling right anyway — How could you defend yourself when you didn't even know what happened exactly? Plus, you weren’t even sure there was something to defend, the pictures speaking for themselves. Even when she started packing your belongings, you didn’t move. For you to move, she had to grab your arm and drag you all the way outside the Avengers’s building by herself.

She needed you gone, and everyone agreed that it was only for the best. At least for a few weeks, just the time for things to calm down. That’s what she came to announce. The few words that left your mouth were useless, your pleas falling in deaf ears: the decision had already been made, and the sentence was irrevocable. The woman is done with your bullshit. She is done with you, and so you are.

"The pictures, they- they aren't real," she eventually admitted, her voice being barely louder than a whisper as she unburdens herself of this old secret. “I mean, th- they are, but it’s a staging. Nothing happened between us, she- hm, loves you too much to give you away,” she continued, tears filling her eyes as she talks, her voice wavering a little more with each word. "She isn't even conscious in these," she continued when the spy didn’t react. If the black-haired woman thought it was because the other was listening, it was because she didn’t know how to react.

The weight of what she had done left her shoulder, and it was now lingering in the room, where the air was suddenly thick, and almost unbreathable. Natasha felt a weight in her chest that made each breath harder than the previous one. Overcome by surprise, she had let go of the other, stepping back a few steps. Her thoughts were racing, numerous and contradictory, they weren’t coherent enough to allow how to respond in any way. She needed to do something, but she didn’t know what.

“I- I don’t know why I did that. It wasn’t me, that night, you know that, right? That I would usually never ever do something like that,�� she started to defend herself when she saw the look on Natasha’s face, “I was so angry, and disappointed, when she refused. I have given her everything since we met, and yet you are the one she chose. I thought that, maybe, with a bit of time she would eventually realize her mistake, … but I was so wrong,” she sighed, and the redhead could see the remnants of that anger in her attitude. A clenching jaw and fists, accompanied with firm words that left no doubt about the resentment she held towards her, and towards you. “That night, I- I wasn’t myself. We’ve already had a few drinks and, you know, it doesn’t mix well with emotions,” she continued, and the woman could feel her anger rising with every word the other spoke. “All I could think about was getting revenge. I wanted to show her she was wrong, that I had so much more to offer than she thought. I wanted her to change her mind, to see me for more than just a friend,” she admitted, her voice being just a whisper as she says the last sentence. “I never thought it would end this way, I swear, you’ve to believe me, Natasha,” and to forgive me. She didn’t say the last words out loud, but she doesn’t need to, her eyes are speaking for herself.

Only, when her gaze met the redhead’s, she didn’t see in her eyes the compassion she had been expecting, only pure hatred, an emotion that had quickly replaced the initial surprise. Not even a word was addressed to her as the other left the room, leaving her alone to dry her tears.

| MOODBOARD — ✧ — MASTERLIST — ✧ — TO SAY SOMETHING

| Part one. Part two. Part three.

| Taglist — @cd-4848, @chocolatestrawberrykryptonite, @gemz5, @jusnough, @m0nsterqzzz, @marvelwomenarehot0, @mrsrushman, @riyaexee, @takeyaki, @taliiiaasteria.

#a spes writing #devious lies #mcu fandom #mcu fanfiction #avengers fanfiction #natasha romanoff fanfiction #reader insert #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanov #angst writing #angst without comfort #anon request

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justkending · 6 months ago

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Mr. & Mrs. Hunt (Chapter 5/7)

Mini-Series Summary: Two of the most stubborn people in the group partnered together for an undercover mission are also the two people with the most hatred for each other, so what could go wrong? Or is it, what COULDN’T go wrong?…

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger Reader (Enemies to Lovers) (Fake Marriage Trope)

A/N: I think we are staying on track for this to wrap up within two more chapters, but again, we are both in the dark if that's the case😂 Thank you guys for the love! If you are wanting to be tagged, please send me an ask. It's a lot easier for me to keep track of who's been added and who hasn't :)

_________

Y/N’s POV:

Okay, so maybe I blew up a little more than necessary, but I tried to chill out before he started chasing me, ordering that I didn’t walk away and talk to him. Let a girl try to get a hold of her emotions for a second big guy.

I’ve been anxious all day, waiting to talk to him about some deep seeded trauma, and then he comes and screws up all of it with a simple exception to an invitation. I know he didn’t mean harm by it, but he’s a trained professional. That was not a trained professional response. Plus, stepping out of my normal routine of being a bitch to him to keep him at a distance wasn’t just a switch I could flip.

Again, I could have handled that better, but now my brain is in mission mode, trying to reprogram what this night has set up for us. Considering the invitation was for tonight, it gave me little to no time to prepare.

“What time did she say dinner was?” I shouted from my bedroom, where I was going through our small, hidden arsenal of gadgets Tony had made for us.

“Six,” Bucky replied from his room down the hall.

Great, that was forty-five minutes from now… “Ok, I can do this.” Deciding it was best to keep some bugs on hand in case we could plant them in the house, and we would be planting them, I needed to consider sizes and placements.

“Should we bring over some wine or something?” Bucky’s voice was now in the doorway to my room, but I kept my back to him as I sifted through our tools.

“I made a pie earlier today. We can take that,” I answered absentmindedly.

“Why’d you make a pie?”

“Felt like it,” I shrugged and walked out of the closet with three small wires/ bugs in hand. When I looked up, I saw he had changed into a nicer button-up and was tightening a tie around his collar he hadn't been wearing earlier. “Why are you wearing a tie?” I examined him.

“Same reason you’re wearing a nicer dress. I want to make a good impression,” he shrugged, straightening pieces of his outfit.

“I’m wearing this because we were going to our ‘anniversary dinner,’” I made sure to put the lie in hand quotes. “I had a story that went with it, but this can pass as casual, too,” I motioned to my dress and moved toward him, placing the wires on the bed. “This looks like you’re about to give a sales pitch.”

Without thinking, I pop his collar up and loosen the tie to get rid of it. The whole time I’m focusing on untying it, I ramble about what the plan is for the night.

“I’m going to give you a wire to put wherever you see fit, and I’ll do the other two. I’ll excuse myself to use the bathroom and sneak it where it’s needed. I feel it’s important we look for cameras already in the house in case it’s a setup. We don’t need them having hard proof that we bugged their place. We want to come off as simple yet good assets if we want them to bring us on board for their work,” I struggle with a certain spot on the tie he somehow fixed in an efficient way I’d never seen. “Jesus, were you a sailor in another life? Might as well have knotted it.”

He doesn’t respond, but I get it off in the next two seconds and look at him to see he had been studying me intently as I invaded his space. I see my slip-up, push the tie into his chest, and take a step back.

“Sorry.”

“No problem,” he answers rather calmly, and I look at his eyes, seeing patience there. Always that damn patience. How did he still have it with me even with how I’ve treated him? “Listen-”

“About last night,” I say at the same time, and he seems shocked but gives a single nod to tell me to continue. “I want to say I’m sorry for being all over the place recently. From last night to thirty minutes ago.”

He seems frozen by my apology, and I became anxious enough that I start to word vomit.

“I took some time to think after last night and spent the day stressing, thinking how I was going to talk to you about it because I do want to. I want to get what I can out on the table if you’d be ok with that,” I look up through my lashes, and I see the most subtle turn of his lip as he watches me attentively.

“Are you hinting that there’s a chance I’ll get to see the side of you others are lucky enough to see?” he retorts, grin growing and taking a step closer to me.

His use of the word ‘lucky’ shortcircuits my brain, and all I can do is nod once, slowly, as my answer. He takes another step, and I match it with one back. I feel more vulnrable than I was expecting to.

“You can understand now why having our plans for the night changed made me slightly temperamental.”

“I think slightly may be an understatement.”

“I think you still should choose your words carefully,” I say, tightening my smile. However, it doesn’t shut him down like normal. Instead, he laughs under his breath, and the doorbell rings.

Both of our heads shoot toward the noise, and solemnity takes over the room.

“You don’t think that’s,” Bucky pauses as he turns back to me.

“How often am I wrong?” I take a deep breath in and smooth my dress out as I walk over, pausing beside him. “Hide the wires. I already did a sweep of the house while you were getting ready to make sure we didn’t have anything out of place. I’ll tell them you’re getting ready.”

I don’t need to open the door to know who it is, but when I do, the urge to yell, “I told you so!” in Bucky’s face is strong.

“Bethanne!” I smile kindly and immediately notice the dish in her hand. Reggie is behind her, holding two others, looking like he just got off work and had been dragged over here. “Did Beau tell me wrong? Are we not eating at y’all’s house tonight?”

She scrunches her face in a practiced motion and lifts the ceramic bowl up as she explains.

“I hate to ask this of you, but our oven is still the old rickety one. The new one had some faulty design, and we had to ship it back. Needless to say, it decided to give out on us today of all days,” she raised her shoulders. “I know we sprung the dinner on you suddenly, but would you two be willing to host if we provide the food?”

Not on the money of what I guessed, but pretty fucking close to the money if you ask me.

“Who is it, Doll?” Bucky’s voice carries from the hallway he’s now emerging from. The first three buttons on his dress shirt are undone, and he’s messing with the cuffs on the sleeves. “Hey, Bauers,” he smiles yet still holds shock in his features by the neighbor's appearance. “Did we get the time wrong?” he asks, looking at his watch before coming to my side, where I've now moved and am letting themselves in.

“No, no, no,” Bethanne shakes her head and hands off one of the pots to me as she takes one from Reggie, who looks more bothered to be here than happy. Long day human trafficking, asshole? “We had some appliance issues thanks to some of the renovations we were doing. I was just asking your wife if we can use your house as tonight's setting and possibly use your oven while here.”

Without hesitance, Bucky takes the dish from my hands and the dish Bethanne had swapped for and nods for Reggie to follow him.

“No problem at all. Let me help you ladies with that. Char," A nickname he had never used for my character before, but it seemed to work fluently. "Would you like to get some wine for the two of you while I get this organized in the kitchen?” he asks me, placing a kiss on the side of my head while his hands are full as he walks towards the other room.

I don’t know how he’s learned to play his role so well, but it’s convincing, even to me.

“Uh, yeah,” I almost stutter in my response as I motion for Bethanne to follow me to the wine cooler out in the garage. “Red or white with tonight's dish?”

"Do you have any more husbands like that in the back I can steal? What a gentleman," she coos, shoulder-bumping me.

___________

Half an hour of baking the food and getting it plated, and our conversation continued with questions mostly strictly about us, which would have been fine if not for the reason behind such invasive intentions.

They started off simple. How’d you guys meet? Who made the first move? What did we love about the town so far? What kind of hobbies and adventures did we take on before moving here? All questions we had prepared for, and if not, could easily improvise.

So far. No slip-ups. If anything, we sold the scheme far better than I’d imagined we would even when they became more personal. And our discussion on being the ‘prude couple’ last night seemed to affect Bucky’s actions a lot more than I was expecting.

An obvious hand on my thigh under the table and an arm thrown over my seat in a slightly possessive manner seemed to catch the eye of Reggie, who mimicked some of the moves as if it were a competition.

In addition, Bucky kept making small compliments about how I looked and how smart I was when they asked about my job. Dropping little comments about things I did (not my character) that he loved and appreciated.

“She’s always doing things like that. I almost never have to worry about making coffee in the morning because she has it all set up just to hit a button and go.”

“You should ask Charlotte about that! She’s the reason our house looks like a home. I’m sure she could give some advice on the kitchen backsplash.”

“She may not know how to boil an egg correctly, but her baking skills are unmatched. I've put on a few pounds now that we have a nice kitchen to spend time in."

I did my best not to act shocked every time he dropped a compliment, but the fact he could have made shit up for my character and used those details as conversation pieces, yet he went the honest way (although more convincing, of course), shocked me.

“Speaking of baking skills,” Reggie nodded his head back to the kitchen counter behind us and smiled at me. “I spied a pie on the counter. Any chance we can have that to finish off this dinner?”

I was still staring at Bucky from his last form of appreciation when I blinked out of my distraction and returned to our neighbor.

“Oh, of course! I was just about to offer,” I smiled, standing up, and Bucky quickly stood next to me, pulling my chair out. “Thank you.” I smiled at him and placed a hand on his arm as I moved around to the counter.

“How sweet. Oh, Charlotte, would you mind telling me where the bathroom is?” Bethanne asked, standing and giving her husband a look for not showing the same chivalry as Bucky.

I watched her, knowing that I would have used the same excuse to do what we planned to at their house. But I was two steps ahead of her.

“Of course! Beau, do me a favor and get some plates out for dessert. I’m going to show Beth-”

“Oh, I’m sure I can find it,” she waved off, coming around the table and moving to the hall promptly.

Yeah… Not without a chauffeur, honey.

“No problem,” I waved off, moving with her casually. “I need to grab some floss from my bathroom before dessert. I’ll show you to it.”

I can see the most subtle glaze of annoyance at my insistence, but she smiles and walks a step ahead of me.

I show her to the bathroom and make it seem I’m going into the master down the hall while she’s in there. And I do, but I keep an eye to make sure she isn’t snooping in any other room besides the one. We’ll have to survey it after they leave, but better that and the dining room than the whole house.

Once we’re back with the boys, no wandering to be done, Bucky helps me plate a slice of chocolate pie for each of us, and I offer to move the conversation to the porch. Any kind of redirection from the comfort of the inside of our home is welcome.

“I love how you’ve decorated your porch. It’s so cozy,” Bethanne notices, pointing out the colorful decorative pillows, hanging swing the size of a daybed, and loads of plants and decor that make the space more intimate. She and Reggie are sat on the two rocking chairs facing the front yard, and Bucky and I are sat close together on the swing, where he’s controlling the tempo we sway in.

“I always wanted a spot outside to escape. We didn’t really have that at our last home, and it was important for me to have this time around,” I replied.

My answer is actually very true. I loved being outside, especially when it was something as simple as sitting in the backyard or swinging on a porch. I had one requirement about this mission, one I’m not even sure Bucky knew about. But I asked Tony to supply a nice budget for the porch.

Call it cheesy, but growing up in such an unnatural and dehumanizing way, you crave a small part of that normalcy you see on the movie screens. For some reason, a porch I could escape on but still be within the comfort of my own home was a dream. And because it was, I thought I’d make this situation a little more bearable by granting that small wish I always had.

“Well, I may have to start budgeting for a new kind of renovation,” she patted Reggie’s back, and he gave her a tight-lip smile. "What do you say, Reg? Do you think we can get a swing like that one?” She smiled over at us just as Bucky pulled me into his side, his arm going around my waist and his hand resting on my hip bone.

“I have a feeling we might as well have built a home from scratch by the time you’re happy with the renovations we’ve taken on,” Reggie answered with a nod before taking a swig from his beer. “Get that recipe for the pie from Charlotte, and I’ll consider buying you a new porch,” he winked my way and turned back to the front of our lawn.

I instantly found Bucky’s hand tightening, and his thumb started rubbing in an up-and-down pattern along my hip. When I turned to him slightly, his gaze stayed on Reggie.

Before finishing cleaning up for the night, we said goodbye to our guests, and just when we thought we hadn’t made any headway in our conversation about work (mind you, we had dropped hints and notices about it all night, but neither of the two seemed to take the bait), Reggie stopped on the last step to our porch and turned to Bucky.

“You mentioned working in transportation, and by the sounds of your new job up here, if you’re interested in a more innovative place, I may have some ins for you,” he shook Bucky’s hand. “I have some coworkers around the states that could use some employees like you on their route.”

“I may take you up on that offer. It all depends on how this week rolls out,” Bucky answered perfectly. The Bauers said their goodbyes, and we watched them walk home before turning to each other.

In a silent celebration, we grinned at the invitation and then sent wordless glances to tread carefully when we got in before scoping the place for bugs…

_______________

Bucky’s POV:

I’m not surprised that the blonde sole cycle instructor of a neighbor was able to get a wire in our bathroom, but neither Y/N nor I were in the mood to remove it right away and give away our knowledge of it, so we each grabbed another drink for the night and debriefed subtly on the porch where the only bugs we had to mind were the crickets chirping their music for the night.

Bethanne was right. Our porch was nicely done, and I hadn’t even noticed Y/N had hung lights out here until she plugged them in.

“I feel like this spot is more put together than the rest of the house.” I noticed the details when we were out here earlier. Now, we both have taken up spots in the rocking chairs our neighbors had vacated.

“I may have focused more of my attention on this spot than the others,” she smiled as she brought a tumbler glass up to her lips. She had drank wine while Bethanne was here, but as soon as they were gone, the whiskey I had made a glass for myself was stolen out of my hand before I could take a sip. Now, we had each of our own.

“Was what you said about the porch a real thing? I mean, we have balconies at the compound,” I looked at her as I sat my drink on the small table between us.

“Balconies and porches aren’t the same. At least in my head, they aren’t,” she nodded, taking a deep sigh and resting her glass in her lap. “Did you mean what you said when you were complimenting me all night?” She lulled her head to the side to look at me.

I had been making compliments. It felt easier to use the ones I had picked up on than the ones I made up. Yet again, I think anyone should get the recognition they deserve when they excel in something. Y/N just tended to excel in more than I think she was aware of. And I was learning she didn’t seem to be used to people taking note of those things.

“Why lie?” I shrugged, starting to rock in a steady pattern.

“Because that’s this whole gig. A lie,” she answered, taking another pull of the hard liquor.

I considered her perspective and shook my head, looking out to the lights on the other side of the street. “I guess it gets tiring at points. Don’t really feel like doing it if the truth can be just as usable.”

She didn’t answer for quite a few seconds, and when I turned back to her, she was staring at me like she was waiting for another shoe to drop.

“How are you so patient? Seriously, is it a drug Tony made you before you had to deal with me on this mission? I don’t get it,” she laughs, but I can hear the genuine confusion in it as she sits forward and turns her body to me.

Honesty. I’m in a mood to be 100% honest.

“Want me to be real with you?” I asked, turning my own body.

“It’d be preferred,” she nods and rests both her arms on the armrest.

“I don’t know anything about your past, but I know most people have a reason for acting the way they do. It took years and a ton of patience before I felt like I was even close to who I used to be. I still struggle to come to terms with the fact I’ll never be who I was before the train incident,” I sigh and rest my head back against the chair as I look at her. “I guess I have understanding more than patience. I understand that you have a history of your own that I don’t know, and I can’t blame you for a lot of the things you do.”

“But you should. I’m an asshole to you,” she says, and the admission is kinda nice to hear, even if it is sad.

“Yeah, and I was hoping you’d be willing to share why that is,” I reply calmly.

She tenses some and sits back in her chair, pulling her legs under her to sit crisscrossed, the chair rocking with her movement and her dress overflowing past her knees.

“I guess now is as good a time as ever…” She looked at me sidelong before finding comfort in the view in front of her instead. “I didn’t really have a chance to develop a personality of my own because of my time in this lifestyle,” she motions around her, “started as soon as I could walk. So I had no identity to fall back on since I had to find it after I escaped.”

I had questions, but I found it best just to listen. Clearly, what she was talking about wasn’t something she brought up lightly, and being an ear to listen was what she needed right now.

“I was left behind by whichever no-good parent gave me up, and Adonis Hummel took me as his own and decided he’d try to recreate the famous assassin, The Winter Solider, from birth practically.”

The name drop came quickly and struck home. I didn’t know her whole story, but I had enough imagination and experience to believe where she was going.

“Wait, Hummel?” I started because the name sounded familiar, but…

“He was a low-level scientist who worked for Hydra when they were still using you under Pierce. He thought he had the brains and resources to create his own version of you. A version that would be more undetectable as a woman and a version he could tweak however he wanted,” she rolled her shoulders. “Lucky for him, I didn’t have to be brainwashed since I knew nothing besides the life of abuse, experimentation, and a shit ton of conditioning... "

"To clarify, I say that for context, not sympathy,” she straightened, and I could see her shifting back to her unbothered disposition, but the truth was shining through the cracks. She may not have wanted sympathy, but something about the vulnerability seemed to lighten the load on her shoulders.

“As for why I may have built a wall around you, an unhealthy and senile wall, I felt as though…” She gulped as if the next part was harder for her to say than the abuse of her past. “I felt as though you had been my competition my whole life, and a part of me, a young and in-need-of-therapy part of me, thought it was best to keep you as far away as possible and hold onto that anger instead of work through it. It felt easier than facing the fear that I didn’t actually equate to you in any way. So that’s another reason why I felt everything with you was to prove a point.” She lets out a short breath after using all the air in her lungs in one swift swoop.

I-

It’s a lot to take in…

She doesn’t move her head back towards me after her confession, and I can’t seem to break my stare from her.

“This is where you say something like, ‘Well, it’s your lucky day. I’m actually an asshole either way, so we can go on hating each other for completely understandable reasons!’ or I don’t know? Anything but silence would be preferred, though…”

Her hand is gripping the arm rest unconsciously like an anchor keeping her on earth.

On instinct, I reach across and pull her hand into mine, keeping my stare heavy, enticing her to look at me.

She closes her eyes at first and takes another short breath before turning.

“I’m sorry if I ever made you feel unworthy of being on the team.” I feel like I personally am the reason for her suffering, even if I had no correlation with her before I joined the team. "You are more than an asset to the team and are your own kind of weapon. It's incomparable."

“Ugh,” she sniffles and rubs an eye with the heel of her free hand as if to disguise a possible tear as allergies. “This would be so much easier if you were a piece of shit misogynistic asshole, but you're part of the few good ones out there. Steve, Sam, and Clint included, not Tony,” she noted.

I smiled, thinking about how I’d make a team like that even if she had me believe otherwise for so long.

“What I’m trying to get at, B, is you’re not the one I should be blaming for my past. You’re just as much a victim as I am, but I took the easy way out of making it more manageable for me, and I only made it harder for us both in the end. And for that,” she turned and stared into my eyes fully, the hand she held squeezing my own. “I’m sorry. You don’t deserve an ounce of the kind of cruelness I tried to bury you in. You are the opposite of what they tried to make you, and you’re genuine in proving that to anyone who meets you. I've been envious of the strength you have, and I can say confidently that I deeply regret ever blaming you for that.”

I once again have to process yet another collection of words I’d never thought I hear. From her. Ever. A part of me believed this was a dream, but the part that Y/N had a grip on was practically pinching me into reality.

Without hesitating, I stood up, pulled her arm up with me, and yanked her into my body in a crushing hug.

She froze at first… The motion was quick and surprising, but slowly, she unhooked our hands, brought both of hers tightly around my waist, and laid into me. I rested my head on top of hers and pulled her shoulders in with my arms, wrapping both of my own tightly around her.

I wasn’t going to let go until she did, and by the looks of it… She wasn’t letting go anytime soon.

Marvel Tags:

@thejourneyneverendsx @death-unbecomes-you @mythos-writes @srrymydood @xa-dia @redhairedfeistynerd @morganclaire4 @connie326 @captain-asguard @mollygetssherlockcoffee @teenagedreams-bucky @shower-me-with-roses @livstilinski @basicallylool @starryeyeseunbyul

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#justkending #bucky barnes miniseries #bucky barnes x avenger reader #bucky barnes x reader insert #reader insert mini series #bucky barnes x reader #marvel reader insert #mr and mrs hunt #mr & mrs hunt

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ronearoundblindly · 7 months ago

Note

how would Steve try and describe human relationships to mermaid reader? and what would her reaction be?

also I love the fact that she has her own “room”.

Miss G?

Steve Rogers x deep sea mermaid!Reader from Sun, Salt, and Shield

Headcanon below the cut! (It got soooooo rambly, but is very cute.)

Well, only Steve calls you 'Doll,' and though Tony will not stop calling you 'Grariel,' eventually you're called 'Miss G' instead--added bonus that you roll around on your Segway with Hollywood-huge sunglasses.

'Miss G' sounds like a celebrity and fancy. You don't understand that distinction yet, but Tony and Steve like it.

Oof, does Steve know how to describe relationships to humans? He's so awkward. He would start with simple things: couples enjoy doing activities together, spending time with each other and other couples or people, often times they touch casually (tricky to explain that word in limited english), and they...kiss.

Important things Steve would mention is that your teeth are very sharp (and numerous) compared to humans. Respectfully, he teaches you to smile without opening your mouth, and does warn that, though he's a fast healer and tougher than most, he will bleed if your teeth catch any part of him ::cough::.

Tony sank a pressure chamber into the bottom of the pool, so you can sleep there comfortably. Rarely, he'll let Steve take one of the Divers and camp out on the ocean floor where you live. Sometimes that makes Steve a little sick for a day or two after, but he never mentions that to you.

This is sorta dumb, and Steve thought it was downright offensive at first, but Tony left all the pool toys in the corner of the room and slowly teaches you to play with all of them. You're quite dense, so you need like ten foam noodles to 'float' you on the surface, but it's very fun.

You find the beach ball is endlessly entertaining, mainly because you swim so fast and can hit it so hard that the ball ricochets off the ceiling like a higher level of Pong. You've popped nearly a dozen of them, but Tony just buys them in bulk.

So, back to relationship and Steve's explanation.

The most heart-warming thing Steve teaches you is the hug. So simple. So reminiscent of your first meeting. If you lay your head on his chest, your face can remain underwater to breathe and hold onto Steve indefinitely, and he's tried. The longest he's gone is five straight hours of just you two holding each other, brushing his thumb over your cheek, giving you soft back rubs, getting gentle back scratches from you, and loving every second.

Sometimes he just talks to you, even when he knows you can't understand most of the words. It's shocking how much gets across by emotion and intonation alone. You squeeze him a little tighter when he's telling you a sad story, and you rub your forehead into his sternum when he laughs at something.

Turns out, Tony used F.R.I.D.A.Y. to compile 'essential human visuals' into a slide-show, and Steve will explain pictures like prompts. That's helped a great deal because it gives him somewhere to start a conversation and lets him see how interested you are in what's happening on the screen. The light of the projector took some adjusting for your eyes, and then was too low for Steve to make out very much, so he now has his own special glasses, like Tony's, that show him an enhanced version of the slides.

Okay, okay, but I gotta say, the absolute most random and best thing ever was you trying to find Steve's room in the compound on your own. Tony gave you the room number--which you don't actually know how numbers work yet, but you go by memorizing the shapes--and then got engrossed by some other work. You hopped up onto your Segway, shades on, Atlantian breathing mask on to keep your mouth and throat in salt water, and you zoomed right through those double doors and past you 'guard.' They aren't there to keep you in, after all, but you did scare the shit out of them.

Off you fly down the main hall, back the other way, straight into the elevator, and you wait patiently, listening to horribly boring music and flicking your fin rapidly with nerves.

The buttons are confusing.

So. You press all of them.

Zippity doo-dah, round and round the halls you go, smiling (with your lips together) at the multiple people you almost run over, getting waylaid by the view of distant mountains from one window, and diligently starting to understand that the shapes Tony showed you repeat everywhere. You're looking for the correct order to them.

It takes over 45 minutes of going between 0 and 20 miles per hour to find the right combination on a little plaque, and it takes only the very tip of your nail to depress the squishy button below the plaque.

You're growing quite fond of the squishy buttons. Some of them are hard but light up. The surface is fun.

Steve is wiping white foam from a fresh shave off his jaw when the door swings open, and you do a spin on your wheels, spreading your fingers like the showy jazz-hands in one of the pictures about stage plays--musicals, they're called--better than elevators, you hope.

You get the ten cent tour of his little apartment and sit on a couch for the first time. Very exciting. Fabric is delightfully strange.

There's talk of a beach vacation, one where you and Steve might get to race along the shore, you in the surf and him on the sand.

You aren't sure whether you'll let him win or not.

[Next Part]

[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

a/n: yeah...i don't even know, gang.

#ro answers #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #mermaid!reader #mermaid au #deep sea mermaid #steve rogers fluff

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untaemedqueen · 7 months ago

Text

At Your Service

Escort!Jeongguk x CEO!Reader

Genre: Strangers to Lovers!AU, Angst, Fluff, Smut

Chapter 20.

Series Warnings (Will Be Updated): Angst, Fluff, Cold Heartedness, Emotional Trauma, Healing, Smut, Dark Humor

Warnings For This Chapter: Revelations

There's a long pause just seemingly waiting in the wind this afternoon as Jeongguk puts on his dress shirt.

The recent wedding events clarified just how in love he is with you. He's protective and emotionally charged with anything and everything that has to do with you. Standing up to the people that tore you down only solidified how far he would go to make you comfortable.

He would have beat Jasper into the lower rings of hell for even looking at you wrong.

He almost did.

So now as he gets ready for his trip to the office he's worked for for years, he isn't afraid to think that this will take a burdensome load off of his shoulders.

"Almost ready?" you inquire, peeking into the walk in closet.

"Yeah, I'm good to go," he breathes, grabbing his watch and turning toward you.

A smile creeps over his handsome face, watching how you lean against the door frame with both of your arms crossed curiously.

"What?" you ask, lifting your hand to brush off any crumbs that might be on your face.

Your boyfriend strides over, taking your hand as it inches upward and bends down to press his forehead against yours.

"You're beautiful and I love you," Guk whispers, closing his eyes.

"I love you too," you reply, wrapping your arms around his waist.

"That's all I need," he murmurs, pressing his chin to the top of your head and sighing happily.

Stepping into At Your Service, Guk is hit with the overwhelmingly familiar scent of vanilla and jasmine. It brings back nostalgia in waves and he can almost remember the exact day he began working here.

He was wearing these grey slacks that were way too big for him and a cardigan that was pimply and knitted weirdly. He didn't know anyone and all he knew was that fucking was making him a lot of money already. Now years later, strolling past the front desk with a black striped dress shirt that has three buttons open and fitted black dress pants that accentuate his thick thighs, he's come a long way.

"Lydia," he greets pleasantly.

She gives him a polite nod, not really looking up from her magazine.

She was always the only receptionist that had dignity about her.

"Hey," she murmurs, grabbing her sparkling water.

He continues down the long hallways, sometimes casually peeking into one of the clear office rooms where a random woman or two is meeting their next date or hook up.

Now that Guk thinks about it… this is all so impersonal.

'Hey, how are you doing?'

'I'm doing fine, thanks. And you?'

'I'm great. Wanna bang?'

It's astounding.

He consciously chooses to take the path that would keep him away from Jimin and Taehyung. He doesn't feel like hearing Tae's mouth and he's not in the mood to listen to Chjm ramble on today.

He just wants to get in here, say his peace and go home with you to cuddle and fornicate until he's spent under silk sheets.

The father of your child nods to a few of his other coworkers that aren't in meetings, taking in their fresh faced looks.

He's been here such a long time that some of these faces he doesn't even remember.

Finally, he comes to the two cloudy glass double doors that he's been seeking and he knocks gently but firmly in hopes that he's heard.

"Yeah? Come in."

With the order, he gently pushes in the door.

He hasn't seen the inside of this office for years. It's changed a lot since Guk has been here.

Rounding the desk is the man Jeon Jeongguk has known since his college days. He's decked out in a three piece suit, his blonde hair slicked back just enough where it doesn't look greasy and he has this air about him that bleeds money and begs for people to fuck with him.

"Tony," Guk greets professionally, extending his hand.

"Oh stop that shit!" Tony laughs, he grabs Guk's forearm with a friendly smile and the father of your child does the same, giving a big smile back.

"Sit down, dude! Please!" Tony fawns, waltzing over to the drinks caddy he's had time to put in since his parent's were the owners.

Your fiance does as told, looking around the professional office shortly before turning back to the man he's known for years.

He watches him pour two big glasses of whisky before striding over to the glass desk and sliding it across.

"So what's up, my man? You look really good these days! I've seen your numbers, I knew you would be perfect for this even back in our good ol' college days!"

Guk doesn't want to take a trip down memory lane. He doesn't need the reminder.

"I wanted to come in and talk with you because-"

"Is it the old cronies we're sending you out to? Cause they request you, dude. I get it, the old bags aren't the kind of eye candy you want to be having to go out and meet but they do have cash," Tony interrupts, lifting his glass with a wink.

"Oh. No. I don't care about that, some of them were really nice. I'm just here to tell-"

"That's good! As long as the cash is flowing then daddy's happy!"

Guk forgot just how annoying Tony can be and right now it's coming back in waves. In college, he's not sure anyone the blonde man was talking to could ever get their point of view across -- ever.

The father of your child chuckles awkwardly, taking a sip of his whisky to quell the frizzled nerves that are starting to sprout up.

"So what can I do for you, big dog? How can I help one of my star money makers? Cause that's what you are. A star," Tony chuckles, clapping his hands loudly and rubbing them together in some sort of bizarre, seemingly gross manner.

"I just need to tell you that I'm q-"

"Do you want a raise? Is that it? Because I can get you a raise! It might make poorer women look over you in the look book but I can do that for you!"

Guk sighs softly, shaking his head at the sheer ridiculousness of it all.

Holy shit, the escort feels like his head is going to explode.

How can one person be so infuriating? Jesus Christ.

"I am quitting!" Jeongguk enunciates, holding up his hand and pressing his index and thumb together.

The look on Tony's face is like he just got shot. His perfectly handsome features twist and change into pure shock and horror at the words. His mouth drops open and he blinks several times for it to sink in.

"What?" Tony hisses, standing up. He begins to pace behind his large desk chair, propping his hand beneath his chin, "Big dog, you're my star quarterback here! You're my team captain! You can't quit, dude! You've worked here for years! Look, man, if it's the money I can get you more money! I can get you hotter clients that want to bone. I can-"

Now it's Jeongguk's turn to interrupt and it's written all over his face how good that feels.

"I'm getting married and I have a baby on the way, I don't want to be an escort anymore," he simply states, finishing off his whisky with a cringe.

Tony stops pacing to turn around. "Oh, man. That's crazy. It's crazy cool, though! I mean… congratulations that's super sick but… I'm just surprised I'm losing you like this!"

Guk simply shrugs, fixing his watch. "It's gonna give me peace of mind and ultimately make me happier so I have to do it for myself."

The blonde man nods, holding up a finger before digging into the desk. "Here! Take this!"

He holds out a couple of thousand dollars and Guk tilts his head. "Tony, no. I'm not taking your m-"

"Oh, come on! It's a wedding and baby gift! I've known you for like a million years! Take the damn money, big dog! You deserve it!" Tony insists, shaking his hand.

Guk sucks an unsure breath between his teeth, grabbing the money. "Thank you, it's very kind of you."

"Yeah, I'm a giver," the blonde man agrees, sitting back down at his desk, "Y'know Applehyme is gonna be crushed."

Guk laughs then, rolling his eyes at the prospect of the older woman. "I think she'll be just fine."

Tony chuckles, folding his arms. "It was a pleasure to have you work for me, man. Really. You're dope."

The father of your child blinks. "Yeah… you too… man."

The boss smiles widely, winking at him. "Go on. Go have a real life then."

"Thanks," Guk mumbles, putting the money in his pocket.

As he goes to leave, his attention is called back to Tony as he grabs the door handle.

"Yo, Guk?!"

He turns his attention as he opens the door, tilting his head.

"Is your girl hot?"

The father of your child snorts softly, catching himself as he goes to roll his eyes. "Super hotm very gorgeous."

"Niiiiice, big dog. Very nice!"

As Guk leaves the office, he feels as if he's stepped out of a frat boy alternate universe and he can only shake his head at the past encounter.

That man has not changed for a single damn second. That's crazy.

He begins his brisk walk back to the car where you wait for him and he goes over the meeting once more and all that's transpired.

He never once remembered Tony like that and now that he has he can't stop thinking about it.

It's really astounding how people stay stuck in their ways for years on end. He wonders if the blonde man has ever gotten married, he wasn't paying attention to a wedding band but he doesn't seem like the type to settle. Although, Guk could be wrong and he's a super loyal guy to his woman.

Tony is kind of an enigma.

As Guk climbs back into the car, he greets you with a gentle kiss before sliding his hand over your stomach.

"How did it go?" you inquire, pushing some of his hair back.

"It was like a blast from the past. Wasn't terrible, though," he announces, kissing your temple.

"Well, that's good!" you cheer happily, giving him a smile.

"You would never interrupt me when I'm talking, right, baby girl?" he asks, putting on his seatbelt.

"No, that's rude," you breathe, starting the car up.

"Yeah… it is," he murmurs, lacing your fingers together.

It isn't everyday you get to go out to a lovely fancy dinner with the father of your child. Nor is it normal for his two best friends to show up either.

This feels good though, it feels healthy and you like that.

From the moment you stepped out of your closet, Guk cannot keep his hands off of you. Your dress is incredibly short, incredibly revealing showing off all the swollen, wonderful body parts that are growing because of his baby and the dress is tight enough around your stomach to make you seem probably more pregnant than you are.

He's obviously very happy with the choice of clothing and you're very proud that he is.

The private room that shelters you while you eat in this luxurious restaurant gives him enough courage to constantly have his hand dipping between your thighs as he talks to his two friends.

You were surprised Taehyung showed up and so was Guk to be honest. Maybe Tae is getting over the pain of having him taken away. You can only hope.

"I'm happy to see you," Guk tells the handsome man, leaning back in his chair with his glass of scotch close to his face.

God, everything he does is just so attractive. How does anyone in the world stand a chance when Jeon Jeongguk exists?

"Yeah I didn't know if I should come. I was an asshole lately," Tae bleats, combing his fingers through his hair.

Jimin just folds his arms, shrugging at you with a toothpick snuggly between his plush lips.

Guk tilts his head and sips his scotch unsure of what to say other than agreeing. "What's so wrong with me being happy, Tae? Everyone makes mistakes. You're not above it all. You know that."

"No, I know!" Taehyung agrees quickly, watching how your fiance angles himself closer to you to drift his hand over your stomach, "I was just feeling bitter."

"Why?"

The question is so simple and you and Jimin almost choke on your own spit at the word. Jimin hastily guzzles water while you find it apt to shove a piece of buttered bread into your mouth.

Guk doesn't seem to notice, taking his friend's thoughts and feelings as the most important thing right now.

The handsome man across the table from him simply shakes his head. "I just… I can't tell you. I don't want to ruin our friendship even more then--"

"You didn't ruin our friendship! Don't say that! I invited you here tonight, didn't I? Please… Tae… C'mon," Guk practically begs, wanting so eagerly to understand what's been going on.

Sure, it's one thing to be protective and defensive of your friend but to be that vicious about it? It's concerning.

Taehyung sighs heavily, picking up his expensive brandy and guzzling it for liquid courage of some kind.

He shakes his head, seeming like he's having some deep inner conflict.

You decide to just look down at your lap, tracing the outline of your stomach that seems to peek out in this tight dress.

Jimin guzzles his own drink, closing his eyes at the thoughts swimming through his mind.

"Tae?"

"Just hold on!" he snaps, running his now sweaty palms over his suit pants.

Jeongguk widens his eyes, taking a sip of his scotch wordlessly.

"I just… am very protective of you. I…" the handsome man stops himself before starting again, "Jimin and I have been a thing and we were wondering if you wanted to be a thing with us but then you started dating and I got upset."

You nod to yourself for a moment, happy that the truth has come out and that it can stay that way but then there's silence.

There's silence for a long time.

An incredibly long time.

You don't have the courage to look up at the rest of the people at the table so you just sit patiently and wait for someone to say something.

"What do you mean 'a thing'?" Jeongguk inquires finally.

His voice is very hollow and short, not judgemental but inquisitive.

"A relationship thing. We fuck… often," Jimin clarifies and when the youngest's eyes snap to his, he makes himself smaller in his chair.

"How long?" Jeongguk asks, folding his arms.

"Three, almost four years," Tae murmurs, staring down at his plate.

"FOUR YEARS," Guk booms.

You look up quickly to see the sparkling water within your glass quaking at the force of his voice.

Taehyung and Jimin both flinch in kind, staring down.

Guk runs his hands over his face, taking a deep breath to steady the betrayal and nerves within him.

When he stands, your eyes follow him. He stalks towards the private room double doors, the muscles in his back are tense.

He grips the door handle for a moment before collecting himself and turning around.

"Listen to me," he calls to his best friends, they both turn to him with weary eyes and he sighs at the sight, "I'm not mad you're in a relationship. I'm happy about that. If you guys are happy then that's great. You know I don't judge, I've done stuff with guys before understanding it wasn't for me. But I'm fucking pissed that you hid this from me for four years! And I understand if it's something you're not ready to tell the world yet. I understand that. But I still feel betrayed and hurt. Period."

He leaves the room in a single second and you shift awkwardly in your chair.

Taehyung goes to stand but Jimin simply plants a hand on his chest. "He's not ours to look after anymore. Y/N is his choice."

The handsome man diagonally from you looks over at you and the wicked gaze you expect to get doesn't happen. He nods understandingly, grabbing Guk's drink and chugging it all with a flinch.

You slowly stand up and make your way out of the room, looking for Guk through the now busy, loud restaurant. You check in certain little alcoves but ultimately step outside only to find him sitting on one of the benches near the front door. His head is down between his knees and his hands are in his hair.

The night air is brisk and chilly, sending goosebumps shooting up over your skin. When you approach, Guk looks up.

"You're gonna catch a cold, baby! What're you doing out here!" he hisses, pulling off his suit jacket and standing up in a flash.

He wraps the jacket around you, running his hands over your arms to transfer some semblance of warmth. You simply hug him tightly and he sighs loudly above you.

Jeongguk buries his face in your hair, eyes fluttering shut. You can feel his heart hammering inside his chest but you stay silent.

"Fuck," he curses, hugging you tighter.

"They're happy," you whisper in his ear and he solemnly nods, pressing his face into your sweet smelling neck.

"Good. They deserve to be, it's just going to take me a minute to wrap my brain around it," Guk replies, taking a large calming breath.

The truth is out now and there's nowhere to go from here but up.

#at your service #ays #chapter 20 #chap 20 #jeon jeongguk #jeongguk x reader #jeongguk #jeongguk fic

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theconstantsidekick · 10 months ago

Text

Captain America: Civil War ft. Static (8) | s.r

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Stark!Reader, Tony Stark x Stark!Reader (siblings)

Genre: Angsty McAngsterson!

Summary: Rhodey's down for the count, and Romanoff and Y/n are the ones to be blamed. If they'd just listened to Tony, none of this would have happened.

(These scenes incorporate y/n, codename—Static, into the pre-existing story as a character without making drastic changes to the plot or mythos. All the major plot points from the MCU remain in place with the addition of the reader as Static, who is not only a Stark but also enhanced. Whatever events from the canon aren’t mentioned, take place without much change.)

Warnings: Swearing, Mentions of Past Trauma

a/n: this took me a grand total of two fucking months

He turns at the sound of the door to the observation area slamming open. But in all honesty, he feels her before he even hears her.

“How is he?” She asks. A question thrown out into the air, addressed to no one but born of worry and desperation. She’ll take whatever she can get. He can tell—so will he.

Guilt, however, is an unfearing emotion.

He doesn’t answer. He stares at her.

He stares at her, and he stares at Romanoff who’s shouldering her weight. He stares at his sister, desperate and pleading and all he wants to do is tell her to fuck off.

Instead he drags both women outside, out of sight, to a balcony.

“The doctors say he shattered L4 through S1. Extreme laceration in the spinal cord,” Tony replies, finally. “Probably looking at some form of paralysis.”

“Fuck,” Y/n whispers. It sounds almost involuntary, like it spilled out of her mouth without thought. Like she barely realizes that she’s said it. But then maybe the sound of her own words hit her cause inhales abruptly and screams out, “FUCK!” She’s grabbing at her hair, barely able to contain herself from pulling them out. She’s pacing up and down the frankly modest stretch of the balcony.

“Y/n!” Romanoff shushes her. She doesn’t want them to get noticed, they cannot risk standing out. They already have a target on their back, Tony knows cause he’s the one who put it there.

The rebuke, however, falls on deaf ears. Y/n seems too engrossed in her journey of self-deprecation to even notice Romanoff, let alone her plea to quiet down.

In any other fucking moment Tony would’ve felt like an absolute fucking dickwad about it but in this one?

Well, let’s just say, he’s unfearing.

“Fuck indeed, Stark!” He bites back. He watches her steps halt and her jaw clench. Her eyes shut at his tone, her head jerking away at the crudeness in it. She even takes a step back, holding on to the railings, trying to keep herself tied to the present. Tony, though, carries on without fear, “None of this would have ever happened if it wasn’t for you.” Pointing at her, he adds, “It’s all your fucking fault!”

“I know,” she replies in a small voice. “I know,” she hits herself over the head, regret laid bare in her every action. “I should have… I should have calculated better, worked faster, tried harder to slow his momentum.” She’s rambling. “I tried to—I tried to do it in my realm, but I’m not used to that place. I should have been able to control him but I barely take anyone in there. I just… Lack of practice. I was so afraid of my powers I never… I never thought I could use it to help people so I never… I didn’t…”

Fuck.

He can’t take this anymore. “I meant siding with Steve.”

That seems to shake something awake in her. “For fuck’s sake, Anthony. Were you always this conceited or did I punch you a little too hard during drills?”

“That would make this your fault too.”

Y/n smiles then.

Just like that. There she is.

That’s his sister, Y/n Stark who’s always been synonymous to the word ‘unbreakable’ in his dictionary.

He sees her shift from being absolutely lost to something very close to livid.

She doesn’t need to hold on to the rails anymore. She stands up straight, meeting him eye to eye—her determination is back.

Tony has to adamantly remind himself that he is not going to regret his words.

She smiles and he can see Romanoff step away from the siblings—she’s the only team member who’s spent enough time with them to know to let the Stark siblings fight it out amongst themselves.

“Maybe you are Howie’s son after all, huh?” The words fall out of her mouth all twisted and angry, coated in venom. Before Tony can retort, she continues, “You wanted to lock us up to find a way to feel less shity about the fact that you created the fucking Terminator. Well, guess what? You’re on your own, kid. I’m not walking the plank for you. Not this one!”

“Oh fuck off!” Tony rebukes, cause when the fuck will his sister get off her high horse? “I never asked you to do that! I’ve never fucking asked you to sacrifice anything for me.”

Y/n straight up laughs at him—mocking and cold. “Yes, yes. And Tony Stark isn’t Iron Man. it’s just a machine playing at being a bodyguard.”

“I never—”

“Tony, you might not have said the words but you knew damn well what you were signing me up for the moment you told the world you’re Iron Man,” she tells him. “You’ve never had to ask me to do anything for you but that’s simply because you didn’t fucking have to.”

“That’s completely unfair. Being Iron Man was my thing!” He beats his chest, “Mine.” Walking closer to her, “You shoved yourself into this gig because you just presumed I wouldn’t be good at it.”

She chuckles, hollow and unkind. “If you want to pretend that the bullshit you’re spewing makes sense, I’ll let you fucking continue but do not fool yourself into thinking you’re some undefeatable hero.”

Tony takes another step towards her. “I don’t think I am undefeatable! I just know I am more than capable of holding my own.”

“Yeah. ‘Course. That why you sporting that busted lip?”

It’s a taunt through and through. The lip’s bust cause she landed a (frankly—and Tony would deny it till the day he dies—damn near artistic) blow straight to his face. He’d provoked her to do it—thrown the first punch and then taunted the shit out of her. All this while knowing full-well she was completely on the defensive.

She loves them all too much.

The Avengers are the closest thing she has to a family, he knew she wasn’t going to lift a finger unless he made her. So he may have said a few colorful things, itching for a fight.

And now, he’s getting it.

“You proud?” He strikes back—he’s never been to back down from a fight. Why start now? He’s going to meet her punch for punch, word for word. He is not in the mood to lose any more today. He doesn’t have the luxury. He backs down now, it was all moot.

“Excuse me?” Y/n asks, all her previous cockiness gone.

“I asked if you were proud of it? I mean, you must be. It was a good hit.” The tone’s so harsh he throws himself off too. He knows—well, he’s consciously aware of the fact that he is the one speaking the words but they sound distant. As if he’s just a passive listener as the whole scene unfolds.

But he isn’t.

“Tony! That’s not fair!” Romanoff speaks out, clearly shocked at Tony’s insolence.

Makes two of us, he thinks.

“What’s not fair is that my sister, my best friend, the one person in this whole fucking world who was supposed to always, always be on my side, is siding with her perky blond boytoy,” he exclaims, heartbroken. Because could this shit be any worse? No, seriously, could anything be worse than this?

He’s been repeating himself, shouting himself hoarse and he knows it seems like he’s overreacting—like he’s blowing this all out of proportion. But he is not. You have to understand that while he’s had the most extravagant upbringing, he’s always been comfortable and well off, he’s been alone for most of it. His father was—well, his father was Howard Stark. And his mother, God bless her, couldn't bridge the gap between him and his father no matter how hard she tried. Despite that he cherished it—having them—even in this broken way, he really did love his parents. Then he lost them. Both of them, together in one fell swoop.

Then there was that bitch Obediah.

We don’t talk about that bitch Obediah.

Tony was too fucking smart for most of the people he’d met, no one could keep up. Some were jealous, while others just wanted to get closer to him to bask in his limelight. All of them, all his interactions throughout his life were always… transactional. He was always alone.

Except her.

Y/n came to pick him up from school, not because Mom or Dad had asked her to. Nope. She came to pick him up so she could take him to Chinatown and have spring rolls. If Tony ever asked her why she’d pick him to go along with her, her answer was always a confused look and annoyed string of words asking him, ‘why would I take anyone else?’

And the question was always, always genuine. Because Tony was her bestest friend in the whole fucking world.

Now, think about it. How would you react if your best friend sided with Steve ‘Golden Boy’ Rogers?

“Fuck you, man. I know you think you’re the center of the universe but you’re not. I’m not siding with him!” Y/n bites back, angry and overwrought.

But that’s not his point. She’s missing the fucking point. “You’re not siding with ME either!”

Her head falls then. “Tony,” she exhales heavily, hands on her hips. She’s wearing the tattered up remains of her clothes from the fight. If he looks for it hard enough, he can see her exhaustion, almost feel it. Even as she speaks, the fight’s leaving her, he can see that too. “I spent my entire life running away from this. I cannot go back. You don’t understand because it’s not the same for you…” He’s never seen her this… this jaded.

He can’t afford to get distracted.

“Because I haven’t had shit hauled at me?” Tony challenges, undeterred and unwilling to move even an inch. He may not have gone through what she has but he’s had his own share of shitty fucking experiences.

“I am not saying that, Tones. I’m not. I’m just saying it’s different for you than it is for us,” she explains, her tone patient and sympathetic.

“She’s right, Tony,” Romanoff cuts in. “We’re not downplaying your experiences, we’re not trying to take away from it. We’re just saying it impacts us differently than it does you. We have lived very… different lives.”

“We’re a little wary of ‘organizations’ insisting on controlling our actions,” Y/n surmises.

What comes next is not one of his best moments.

It’s not something people will talk about in his greatest hits. Nope. Never. It will, however, make the top-three-dumbest-shit-Tony Stark-ever-did list. Fuck—Tony will look back on this moment for years to come. He’ll come back to it time and again, think and then rethink his words. He’ll spend night upon nights, sleepless and disturbed—knowing that he fucked up here. He’ll know that this was where he fucked up. His words won’t be held against him, no. Not by her, never by her. But he’ll still know it was the most horrible thing he could say.

But Tony doesn’t know that yet.

He doesn’t know that yet because guilt is an unfearing emotion.

“Aren’t you a little tired of this schtick?” Tony asks, cocking his head with a cruel, hollow smile. “Aren’t just a little bit tired of using that same old fucking sob story for every single decision you ever make in your godforsaken life?” He looks around, chuckling at the thought. It’s a chilling sound. “At some point you’d have to stop milking that shit, don’t you think?”

It’s only when he finally looks at her that he realizes he’s fucked up.

Her face is hard—harder than stone. There’s a fury in her eyes he’s never seen there before, even for her enemies. He’s never seen that look on her face in his entire life. It sends a chill down his spine.

When she speaks, her words are low but prominent. “My trauma is not for you to use as a punchline for your baseless argument.” They leave no room for an argument anymore. They leave no room for anything but shitting your fucking pants.

He overstepped.

Big time.

Fuck.

“Tony,” Romanoff cuts in, clearly able to sense that this discussion could lead to bloodshed. “I’d suggest you take a step back.” Her eyes are pleading him to be more cautious with his words. “Think before you speak.”

“I—” He doesn’t know what to say. He clenches his fists. Trying and failing to gather his thoughts.

The pause that hangs in the air is so heavy it’s almost painful. He thinks maybe it’ll never end.

But it has to.

“I get that you’re scared but what happened before won’t happen again. This isn’t like Madripoor. You’ll be safe. I’ll make sure of it. And, I mean, com one, you might not trust the Accords yet but you joined S.H.I.E.L.D. right? So why not give this a shot too?” Tony questions in a softer voice, but his desperation persists.

“Because S.H.I.E.L.D. was mine,” Y/n insists. “It was mine and Peggy’s and Howard’s, and Colonel Phillips’. We found it, Tony. It was my home.”

“I didn’t know you founded S.H.I.E.L.D.” Romanoff notes, almost sounding bewildered.

Maybe she sounds bewildered, could easily be any other emotion in the book cause Tony, even after all these years, has made no progress on being able to read the former spy.

“I didn’t want to be on the books, I preferred my life off the grid,” She informs her. And the strain in her words doesn’t hurt Tony at all. It doesn’t sting. Of course not. Nope. “We made it for people like me, to protect them, help them.” She sounds like she’s reminiscing. It somehow rubs him the wrong way.

“And yet, you left that too…” Tony comments, disparaging and snide.

“I had my reasons,” Y/n provides, and just like every other time she’s mentioned it, there is a hesitance in her words.

“Yeah! You keep saying that, and I have no clue what the fuck this elusive reason is.” He has never pressed her on it before, but well, considering all this newly spilled bad blood, why not push his luck just a little bit further? “You told me about all your missions gone wrong, even your run-ins with the Winter fucking Soldier, and it wasn’t any of that. So what possible reason could you have for quitting an organization that you created to protect yourself?”

“Do we have to talk about this?” She asks, annoyed.

“Yes. You always feed me the same bullshit about how you just had to leave S.H.I.E.L.D. that you couldn’t trust them anymore, that it was the necessary choice but whenever I ask why, all you do is blame Hank Pym’s fucking haircut.” Tony’s anger comes back to him again, picking up right where it’d left off. “You bail at the fucking sight of a regulatory body, why the fuck is that?”

“Because Tony! I couldn’t trust them anymore!”

“And we’re back here again,” he takes a step to her. “WHY NOT?!”

“S.H.I.E.L.D. WAS TESTING MY BLOOD!” She yells out, shutting him up completely. “Without my knowledge,” she adds much quieter.

“No…” It can’t be. “No. Dad—Dad wouldn’t let that happen,” Tony tries to argue. He can’t be sure though, he didn’t know his father well enough to bet his life on it. But he wouldn’t have let it happen. He wouldn’t.

“He’s the one who was running the tests.”

For anyone following along, Tony’s heart hasn’t been doing well since he got abducted by his own fucking father figure, but this somehow seems to break his heart all-together. He never saw that coming.

Romanoff seems to be just as surprised as him, ‘cause she looks pale and remains absolutely mute.

Y/n is the one who talks then, trying to cut through the silence. “He… He was worried. He thought if he understood my powers, he’d be able to help me. And, I mean, can you blame the guy? You house this random teenager in your house and every night you wake up to a fucking earthquake cause she had another nightmare. Anyone would want an explanation, a way to control the powers.”

“But… He was your best friend,” Romanoff says and Tony feels like he can’t fucking breathe.

Y/n, though, just shrugs, like it wasn’t a cruel breach of trust. Like Howard Stark hadn’t stabbed her in the back. Like it was any old thursday. “He was,” she agrees with ease, before turning to Tony and continuing, “and sometimes friends do stupid shit in a naive attempt to try and help.” Fuck me with a chainsaw and call me Samantha, Tony thinks. “It wasn’t all bad. He’s the one who figured I wasn’t all alien.” She says it with a smile, like it was fucking nothing.

“Why didn’t you tell me before?” Tony manages to ask, confused beyond words.

“And give you another reason to hate him? You had plenty. It was between us, we solved it and moved on like adults,” she tells him, calm as ever.

“Y/n! He broke your trust!” Tony argues, taking a step towards her, finally finding his voice again.

She just rolls her eyes, “He got curious, Stark. He’s a scientist, can you blame him?”

“So am I! And I would never do that!,” He yells. And only when the words are out of his mouth does he understand what he just said. “I would never do that to you,” he insists in a smaller voice, with a softer tone.

She smiles then, true and open. “I know, Tones. I know.”

It’s… It’s hard for him to process this information. He doesn’t know where to put this, how to categorize it. He has absolutely no clue what to do with this.

So he asks instead, “Did mom… did she know?” He’s scared but it’s better than the alternative of having to come to terms with the whole situation..

“No, no nooo!” Her hands move around animatedly to drive the point home.”If Maria had known he wouldn’t have been alive long enough for you to exist,” she shakes her head with a fondness he doesn’t know where to place. “No, she didn’t know. He got the ass-reaming of the century from Peggy, we burnt the leftover blood samples and called it a day.”

Fuck. “Fuck!” Tony curses, absolutely lost on what he should do now. Cause what the fuck is he supposed to do now?

“Stark,” she urges, softly, “let’s focus on the problem at hand, let’s deal with the fake doctor, let’s handle that and then we can come back to this. We’ll fight this, together, united. The Avengers stay together, we fight our way through this. We agree on a document that works for us, for all of us.”

Tony shakes his head, tumbling back. “You don’t understand Y/n, you have to sign the Accords… there are no neutral parties. There can’t be. You sign this or it’s over.” She tries to say something, but he marches on, he needs to get this out. “After what happened in Sokovia, after the collapse of S.H.I.E.L.D. after Lagos, the world governments are not going to settle for anything less. You have to see that.” He sighs, exhausted and man, can someone fix this pain in his shoulder please? “You can make amendments,” he suggests. “However many you want, okay? Make amendments to your heart’s content. Once you sign this, we can fight about the specifics, Y/n. We’ll have the best lawyer in the business on our side! Just sign it, Y/n. Please. They are out for blood, Ross more than anyone else. He will not let you go.”

“He won’t be able to find me,” Y/n tells him, with a straight face.

“If he can’t find you, how will I?”

He cannot lose her.

He just fucking can’t. Not… Not over this.

It seems to hit her too. It’s only then that he notices she looks a lot less fierce than she usually does. “Tony, there is no scope for amendments.”

“Once you sign—”

He’s cut off. “Tony, read the fucking document. Come on! Have I taught you absolutely nothing? Read the thing before you sign it. There is absolutely no scope for amendments. There are too many loopholes to stop the issues from even being raised. It’s solid as a stone, I won’t be able to barter for even an ounce of freedom.”

“Y/n…” He’s fucking desperate. “We need regulation.”

“Tony this isn’t regulation… I can’t sign this.”

This is when Romanoff speaks up. “Tony, Steve's not gonna stop. If you don't either, Rhodey's gonna be the best case scenario.”

And somehow her words are harsh enough to make him angry all over again. “You let them go, Romanoff.”

“We played this wrong,” she tries. But he’s not taking any prisoners.

“'We'? Boy, it must be hard to shake the whole double agent thing, huh? It sticks in the DNA,” he throws back.

“Anthony,” Y/n scolds him.

“Are you incapable of letting go of your ego for one goddamn second?” Romanoff rebukes.

He doesn’t know what to say to that, so instead he tells her, “T'Challa told Ross what you did, so… they're coming for you.”

Just as the words slip out, Y/n’s phone chimes.

“Either Tony’s a fucking psychic or the Secratary of State just has impeccable timing,” she comments looking down at her phone. When she looks up at them her face is stern. “He’s on his way, he’ll be here in 5. You should go.”

“Me?” Romanoff asks her, bordering on pissed. “We should go.”

Y/n just shakes her head. “We leave together, we won’t be able to lose them. You go ahead, I’ll buy you time.”

“Y/n—” Romanoff’s protest is cut short.

“Just go. Given the fact that my superpower is straight up teleportation, I think I’ll fare much better than you,” Y/n assures her. “Go.”

Reluctance clear on every inch of her face, Natasha Romanoff unwillingly begins to walk away. But not before one last (metaphorical) punch to his gut. She looks at Tony, “I’m not the one who needs to watch their back.” With that she makes her swift exit, leaving the balcony and seamlessly blending in with the crowd.

Slowly, both siblings, without words, come to stand next to each other leaning on the railing, looking at the view ahead.

“How are you planning on buying time?” Tony asks her then.

“Will you tell on me to the teacher, Stark?” She asks, teasing.

It’s a truce. It’s temporary.

He still thinks they should consider signing the Accords and she still believes it’s not the way to go.

But despite all that, Tony can’t help the way lips curl up. “I’m not a rat.”

“Aren’t you?”

He rolls his eyes. “Shut up.”

“Cause that’s what all the rats say,” she tells him with a mischievous smile. “I would know, I’ve been the rat.”

A chuckle slips out from his lips.

She joins him easily.

He might not be sure about much right now, but he knows for a fact that if he were to lose her, he wouldn’t survive it. “What happened to Rhodey… you know that wasn’t your fault, right?”

The smile drops from her face. “Wasn’t it?”

“You have to know it wasn’t.” He needs her to know at least that. He needs her to know no matter what happens, this was not her.

“If I’d known my powers better, had I… I don’t know. If I had not been so afraid of them, if I’d practiced once I knew I was safe, none of this would have happened.” Her head falls back, eyes closed. “If I had control over my powers, Wanda wouldn’t have been enough to break me. Would have saved us so much trouble.”

“There would still be a raging Hulk on the loose,” Tony contends.

She rolls her eyes. “People know the Hulk. They understand—scientist gets angry, becomes green and Hulk-y. It tracks in their head. But it was different for me, the first time I ever showed my powers to the world was when I was out of control…” She closes her eyes, head falling. “Maybe it would’ve been better to not hide them in the first place,” she whispers.

“We don’t know that,” he ventures, ‘cause it’s true. “We don’t know what could have happened. All we could say with certainty is that we’re both a couple of dumbasses.”

“I’ll have to agree on that one,” Ross’s voice booms as he walks onto the balcony.

Both siblings turn to eye the intrusion. It’s Ross flanked by… Ross—the other Ross—Everett and some other dude in a suit he’s never seen before. But he looks annoyed, old and has glasses on so he just presumes the man must be important as well.

“Nice to see you too Mr. Secretary,” Y/n replies with an easy smile. But it’s not open. It’s the one she wears just before she’s about to make someone’s day a lot worse.

“You’ve got a lot of nerve showing up here, young lady. You should have taken Romanoff’s approach and run when you had the chance,” Ross comments. And honestly? Yeah, Tony kinda wants to rescind his fucking signatures cause siding with this man is seeming less appealing by the minute.

But Y/n just laughs. “It’s not like you’ll be able to stop me if I were to run even now,” and just to fuck with him, she glitches an inch off to the side.

Ah, that’s where I got the innate need to be an ass.

“Now you’re just showing off,” the smaller Ross says, sounding more charmed than pissed.

The smile doesn’t leave her face, “Maybe I am.” She glitches a step closer to the group of men. “So, Mr. Secretary, did you need something from me?”

“Still a fiery little thing, aren’t you?” Ross mocks. Tony can’t help but roll his eyes at his hubris. “It’ll die out soon enough, once we get you situated at the Raft along with the rest of your team members.”

Raft? Wait… What does he mean by the Raft? Why would he put them there? That’s not—it’s not right.

He’s losing his shit.

But Y/n frowns, innocent and demure, like she knew about it already. Like she knew that’s where they’d put them. “On what charges am I getting arrested, Mr. Secretary?”

And on his part, the Secretary of State takes her mock naivete in stride. Letting out a short laugh. “Well if you’ve taken the time to read the Accords, you’d know that using your powers on the field without the explicit say-so of the UN committee is illegal.”

“I didn’t use my powers.”

That finally breaks whatever rope was holding the bridge of Ross’s anger together. “Do not play dumb with me, Stark. This might have worked with Fury, but I’m not him.”

“Don’t I know it. Never thought I’d miss that old croak, and yet…” she comments, still smiling. “But my point still stands. I did not use my powers.”

Before Ross can say something that might put a sailor to shame, the shorter Ross intervenes, “We have footage of you fighting Barnes at our facility.”

“I didn’t fight Barnes, I fought the Winter Soldier. And on that issue, I’ve got two words for you, self defense,” she tells them easily and a smile just slips out on his face. He may not agree with her on this—profoundly divisive issue, but he’ll never not be in absolute admiration of his big sister fucking around with authorities.

“You can’t be serious,” the shorter Ross throws back, with a confounded smile.

“Check the footage if you like,” Y/n takes a few steps back, leaning on the railing behind her and pulling out a box of cigarettes from her pocket. “I didn’t throw the first punch…” She puts one between her lips, casual and easy. “I didn’t even use my powers until he came at me with his fucking metal arm and his fucking enhanced strength.” She pulls out her lighter. “What did you expect me to do then? Get beaten up?” She lights the cigarette.

“Yes,” Ross supplies.

She smiles at him, taking a drag. “Might be your style. Not mine.”

“And what about at the airport in Germany?” The shorter Ross asks.

Y/n shrugs. “Never threw the first punch.” Another drag. “Besides, I was defending myself from a rag-tag group of superheroes who were after me with a vengeance.” She smiles at her own words looking at Tony on her side.

And just for that, he decides to be a bitch too. “What if I were to sue you for assault?”

Her smile drops instantly and for a second he thinks maybe he won that round, but alas. “You could have, if you’d fucking listened to me! You should’ve let me come to you. I have told you about a million times; you are not the biggest guy on the field. You fight well but not well enough to be cocky, you are supposed to let your opponent come to you.”

“The best defense is a great offense,” Tony says lamely.

“That’s what idiots say when they have shit defense! If you let them come to you, you get the advantage of not just using their momentum against them, you also get to know the move they trust most because 9 times out of 10, you want to start the fight off on a strong foot so you use the move you’ve practiced often, but also the one that you’re most comfortable with,” Y/n scolds him, hands waving everywhere, clearly annoyed with him beyond words.

“That seems like an exaggerated statistic,” Tony tries.

He fails.

“It’s not,” the shorter Ross supplies. “She’s right.” He earns a stern look to shut up from Ross.

“You could’ve sued me if you’d just listened to me. I’m easy to provoke, especially when the person provoking me is you.” She takes another drag. “Look at me right now, I want to punch you so bad.”

“You’re welcome to try,” Today clearly has not been a day of peace thus far, so why not continue to choose violence?

“That’s enough!” Ross yells. “I’ve heard enough out of the both of you!” The man looks like he’s well past blowing a gasket. He looks at Tony, “Stark, you are well past your 36 hours to get me Rogers,” he turns and fixes his gaze on his sister, “And as for you… Stark, feel free to cry to the judge about how it was self-defense when you’re on trial. Till then there’s a cell with your name on it on the Raft, that’s where you’ll have to throw whichever fit comes after this one.” The way he speaks it’s evident he doesn’t believe that she’s a threat, not to him. “We’re putting you under arrest.”

“Oh?” Y/n asks. She waits a second and then suddenly there’s a sound of static that rings out. She is next to Tony one second and the next she’s standing against Ross, toe to toe. She pulls the cigarette out of her mouth. “You and what army?”

A vein pops out on Ross’ temple.

“You’re forgetting who you’re talking to, Stark,” Ross warns.

“Or maybe you’re forgetting that I might look like a young and ‘fiery little lady’ but I’m not. I have been doing this since before you were even a thought in your father’s head.” She takes a drag, slow and somber. “You best learn to respect your elders, son.”

And just like that, she’s gone. Glitched into nothing.

Tony tries his best not to let this little spark of pride overtake his guilt.

Read the next part here. Find the series masterlist here. Find other Static Verse works here.

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thatssonanii · 8 months ago

Text

Chapter Ten

A/N: Two chapters in 24 hrs! Look at me! 😂😂 but enjoy! ⭐Comment, reblog & share!⭐

Warnings: Cursing, strong emotions ahead, typos, 18+ MINORS DNI!

Masterlist

Chapter Nine

Another three days passed with Zilla staying with Bronco. He would sneak to the apartment late at night to grab clothes when he knew Moriah was asleep. Watching her sleep gave him a dull ache in his heart for her. It wasn't fair that Nadine had made so many unjust decisions for them. There was nothing anybody could say to him that would make him ever forgive Nadine. Before he left the apartment, he made sure to fill her work cup with ice and put it in the freezer for her and put snacks in her purse because she always forgot. He was honestly surprised she didn't notice but then again she never did.

Slipping back into Bronco's house, he tried to move as quietly as possible so he didn't wake Bronco's little brother. As he moved towards the living room he heard a soft squeal.

“Aye you good in here?” He called out as he walked through the doorway then quickly turned his back seeing Toni sitting top less in his friend's lap. “Oh shit, my bad, B.”

Bronco laughed wrapping the throw blanket around her. “You good, shoulda been in my room anyway. You got what you need?”

“Yeah, I got it. Nice to see you again, T.” He chuckled with his back still to them.

Toni hit her boyfriend, who was still laughing. “It's not funny, Bronco. Nice to see you too, Zilla. Where were you?”

“You really wanna know or you askin cause it's awkward?”

“Both,” she laughed getting off Bronco's lap, “Answer please.”

He held up his bag for her to see. “Went to get clothes from the apartment.”

“So you saw Rye? Did everything go okay? Well of course it didn't if you're here.” Toni rambled on until Bronco moved to stand behind her and gripped her shoulders. “Huh? Sorry, I'm talking too much. I'm just worried.”

“Ain't no need to worry. He ain't wake her, she don't know he been there.”

Securing the throw blanket around her torso, Toni moved closer to the younger man and turned him around to face her.

“It's been damn near a week, Zilla. How long are you gonna do this? She already thinks you hate her, this is not helping.”

“That's what I been tryna tell him,” Bronco added, making Zilla suck his teeth.

“Fat know I don't hate her. I text her. We good, T.”

“That might work with Bronco but that does not work with me,” she fussed. “She doesn't know that because besides you texting her that you love her, you don't say anything else to her and you're not at home.”

He huffed shifting his weight from foot to foot. “Listen, I appreciate you being there for Fat and all that but we straight. I got it.”

“You got it? Yeah, okay. I understand that you're hurting and processing right now but you're literally doing exactly what her mom said you would do. You left her by herself, Zilla. She's alone every day and every night while you're here with your friend every night.”

Toni pushed past him, going to Bronco's bedroom careful not to slam the door.

“Damn, she kinda feisty,” Bronco chuckled, “But you know she's right. You can't keep runnin, bruh. You gotta talk to her at some point. Good night, man.”

Getting back to the guest room, Zilla got situated for the night and responded to a few texts he had. Jon had invited him and Moriah to the house for a cookout, even though he told him no the first time Jon continued to ask until Zilla gave in. As they were talking a facetime call from Arthur came through. He debated on answering for a few moments before ultimately answering.

“Damn you wasn't gon answer the phone?”

“I was gettin in the bed. What's up?”

Arthur knew his little brother well. He could fool their other brothers and occasionally their mother but it was very rare that he could get past Arthur.

“You tell me. What's going on with you?”

“Nun, wrestlemania season so it's busy.”

“Now that you got ya lie out ya system, let's try the truth, Isayah. You know whatever you tell me don't go no further.”

Zilla couldn't stop the chuckle that escaped him, it was dipped in sarcasm. “Oh trust me, I know you can keep a secret.”

Arthur's face scrunched up, giving his brother a confused look. “It's obviously something you wanna say so say it. Get it off ya chest.”

“Why you ain't tell me?” He asked after a minute.

“Tell you what?”

“About Angel. You knew and ain't say shit.”

Arthur sighed, wiping his free hand down his face. “This ain't what you wanna hear but that wasn't my place to tell you, Isayah. It wasn't my business to tell. That was for Moriah to tell you.”

Zilla rolled his eyes. “Okay so why not tell her to tell me before?”

“Do you think she wanted to hold this shit in this long? No, she didn't. She wanted to tell you but she been terrified to tell you since the moment that test came back positive.”

“I hear you.”

“If you're acting this way with me then I can only imagine how you acting with her about this.” Arthur paused to gather his thoughts. “That's why y'all ain't been answering our calls. She told you and you lost your shit, didn't you?”

He sucked his teeth hard. “I ain't lose shit. She told me and I left.”

“The hell you mean you left? You left the room? That's what you better mean.”

“Left the apartment. I needed to get away from the whole thing before I took it out on her.”

“You got air then what?”

“That's it. I ain't been back since and before you start I'm not tryna hear shit about it.”

Arthur chuckled under his breath. “I don't care what you don't wanna hear. It's fine for you to want space after hearing that but running from it won't change it. You do know that, right?”

“I know that, Arthur.”

“I know that look on your face so tryna say anything else to you is pointless right now so ima go. You call or text me when you wanna talk.”

Before Zilla could say anything else, Arthur disconnected the call. He could add another person to the list that felt his anger that didn't deserve it. The whole situation with Angel was eating at him, the person he wanted to take his anger out on was nowhere near and he wasn't calling her. Not yet at least.

Zilla

12:45am

Remember u said if I ain't find 1, u would fine 1 fa me?

Aunt Kami

12:45am

Yup.

Zilla

12:46am

I ain't find 1

Aunt Kami

12:48am

Gotcha. I'll let you know when your appointment is.

Zilla

12:49am

Thank u. I owe u

Aunt Kami

12:50am

No you don't. Is everything okay?

Zilla stared at the text trying to figure out how he wanted to answer. He knew Moriah is the closest to her Aunt Kami and her Aunt Gabi but he wanted her to have control of how much she wanted them to know.

Zilla

12:55am

Not really but ion wanna talk about it.

Aunt Kami

12:56am

That's perfectly fine, Zilla. But if you do, you know I'm here. Go to sleep, love yall

Zilla

12:56am

Love you 2

Getting out of bed was hard for Moriah and going to work was even harder. Having to act like everything was okay especially in front of Thomas so he didn't raise suspicion to her mother was tiring. Zilla buying her a car made it a little easier since he hasn't picked her up from work since. Even though Thomas worked her nerves, the kids on the pediatric floor gave her a little joy.

Entering her five year old patient's room, Moriah got sanitizer and approached the bed with a smile. She greeted her parents softly then laughed seeing her patient faking sleep.

“Nia's sleeping? I thought she was up.”

The mother smiled, her eyes crinkled in the corners. “Thought so too. Guess she fell asleep.”

“Well I guess I have to give this pop it game to my other patient then,” Moriah playfully started to walk backwards.

Nia's eyes popped open followed by her giggles. She reached her hands out. “Noooo! I'm awake! I'm awake!”

Her parents and Moriah laughed along with her. She approached the bed again, taking the game from her pocket to give to the five year old.

“The gopher game! You found it!”

“I did, I told you I would. I got you, girl.”

“Thank you! Thank you!”

Moriah started to check her vitals. “You're so welcome, friend. I talked to Dr. Harris and he told me that you can take it with you to pre-op while you wait.”

“Yes!” She squealed excitedly.

“And when you come out of surgery, what would you like to eat?”

“Anything?”

Moriah winked at her. “Anything, friend.”

“Spaghetti and meatballs!”

“You're gonna turn into a meatball, Nia.” The dad joked.

Moriah finished up and went to grab more sanitizer. “Spaghetti and meatballs it is, friend. Mom and Dad, Dr. Harris and another nurse will be in shortly to talk to you a little more about her surgery then take her to pre-op.”

The mother stood quickly. “Wait, aren't you going to surgery with her?”

“Well, no ma'am. I'm sorry.”

“Could you?” She asked, grabbing Moriah's hand. “Please. It would make us and her feel much better if you did. You've been so good to us the last few days, she just adores you.”

Moriah rolled the thought around in her head. “I'll check with the team and make sure it's okay. Alright?”

Leaving the room, Moriah walked around the floor looking for Dr. Harris. She found the slender, salt and pepper African American man engulfed in a conversation with Thomas. The sight of him repulsed her but she pushed it aside for her patient.

“I'm sorry to interrupt, Dr. Harris. I wanted to run something by you about Nia Whitfield's surgery.” Her eyes shifted momentarily to Thomas. “In private.”

Dr. Harris smiled, he was always a jovial man. It's why the kids in the pediatric floor loved him.

“Of course, Nurse DeBreaux. And it's okay if Gardner stays, he's going to be in surgery with me shadowing.”

It took every bit of willpower for Moriah not to roll her eyes at that.

“Isn't that … great. Nia and her parents would feel more comfortable if I went into surgery with her. I know you had another nurse scheduled with you and I understand if we can't change it but I wanted to try.”

Dr. Harris waved his hand dismissively. “Never be fretful to ask to switch in my surgeries. I want my patients and families to be as comfortable as possible,” he explained. “If they want you then they got you. I'll meet you at her room in fifteen minutes.”

With that, he walked off towards his office she presumed leaving her with Thomas. He stepped closer, she took two steps back and held her hand out to stop him.

“Stay out of my personal space, Thomas.”

“Our first surgery together. Aren't you excited, Moriah?” He asked, smiling from ear to ear.

“Not at all. You need to focus on not messing up in there instead of on me.”

He shrugged. “It's just a hernia removal. Piece of cake. In and out in an hour tops.”

She rolled her eyes.

“You heard what I said.”

“How's your boy? One of my patients had the show on last night, he's not bad.”

Moriah turned to walk away from him, mumbling to herself. Getting transferred back to the emergency department wasn't happening quick enough for her. Between the rift with her and Zilla and Thomas always in her face at work, she was more than tired.

Hassan pulled up to the house he knew Tamera would be showing in the next couple of hours, parking discreetly behind hers. He grabbed the flowers he had gotten her before jumping out and heading for the porch. The door was open, he knocked on the door frame as he entered. He didn't have to wait long for Tamera to come out, her heels clicking against the impressive marble flooring. Her smile grew wider seeing Hassan.

“What are you doing here, Hassan?”

He gave her the flowers then kissed her cheek. “I was in the neighborhood and decided to stop by. Happy to see me?”

His heart swelled as he watched inhale the flower's scent excitedly.

“Yes of course I'm happy to see you. But in the neighborhood, sir?” She laughed. “You live forty five minutes from here.”

He pulled her into a tight hug. “Not the point. You mentioned you didn't have flowers for the house today so here I am.”

“Thank you,” she grabbed his hand, pulling him with her through the house to the kitchen. “I'll put them in a case. They're very beautiful, Hassan.”

“Just like you.”

Their eyes met, her eyes flickered with a very familiar flame that Hassan acted like he didn't see. The flame in her eyes was the same flame that burned inside of him but he wanted to make sure she knew what she was getting into with him. Gabi and Moriah would say that he was stalling but he hadn't and didn't plan on asking them.

“You are slicker than can of oil, Mr. DeBreaux.”

“And you, Ms. Jefferson, are sweeter than honey.”

Tamera checked her watch then glanced back at Hassan, a smile rose to his face again.

“Two hours until your appointment, Tamera.”

She hummed, filling a vase with water. “Guess we better put those two hours to good use then.”

His phone rang interrupting their stare down. Seeing his ex-wife's name made him internally groan but he excused himself and stepped out of the sliding door to the backyard.

“How can I help you, Nadine?”

“Am I interrupting you or something? You sound irritated.”

He chuckled. “You know I don't enjoy talking to you, Didi. What is it?”

“Well that's rude, Hassan. I was just calling to check on Moriah. Apparently she's blocked my number.”

“You say that like it's a surprise. She meant it when she said she was done.”

Nadine scoffed into the phone. “Anyway, how's my baby? Have you talked to her today? I heard she's going into her first surgery today.”

Hassan took the phone away from his ear to stare at it for a moment. “No, I haven't talked to her today but she's fine. How the hell did you hear that?”

“I have my ways. Later on, you need to call and ask her about it. And tell her to call me, this is something we need to talk about.”

He took a few deep breaths to calm his nerves. “I'm not telling her anything, she'll call if she wants. Whatever person you got keeping tabs on her at that hospital needs to stop.” He spat harshly.

“If you think I'm gonna just stop looking out for my baby because she's upset with me right now then you're sadly mistaken,” Nadine fussed. “This isn't the first time, she'll get over it. She got over that damn baby, didn't she? Exactly so she'll be fine.”

“That damn baby was your grandson, Nadine! He was a part of you and you took his life! You took him, you traumatized our daughter, who is also a part of you and you act like it was nothing!”

“Oooh,” she cackled, “I struck a nerve if Hassan is yelling. Not cool, calm and collected Hassan getting out of character over that bastard baby.”

“You would stoop so low and hurt our daughter because you're pissed at me? You're pissed at me for something that didn't have to change anything about our lives, Nadine.”

Laughing, she mocked him, not bothering to give him an actual response.

“What if she would've hurt herself? What then?”

“Oh please that girl is weak but she's not that weak. She would never.”

He chuckled bitterly. “Because you know her so well, right? Nadine, stop trying to hurt my daughter. Leave her alone, let her be and let her live her life.”

“Your daughter?” She snorted.

“Yes, my daughter.”

“Goodbye, Hassan.”

The urge to chuck his phone into the pool a few feet away from him was strong. Instead he stuffed it in his pocket and took slow, deep breaths to calm himself down. No one could make him as angry as his ex-wife and he hated it. Some would say it was because he was still in love with her and reached to be her but they didn't know him. He hated who his ex-wife became right before and after their divorce, he didn't know her. Feeling hands on his back, he jumped a little then relaxed remembering he was there with Tamera.

“Didn't mean to scare you. Just wanted to check on you. You looked stressed.”

He wiped a hand down his face. “I'm sorry about that, it was my ex-wife. I'm alright though.”

She gave him a small smile, taking his hands in hers.”You don't have to be sorry, I understand about exes. We can talk about it, if you want. Or not talk.”

“Not talking sounds good,” he smiled.

Bronco and Zilla sat on the floor in front of one of the practice rings with a few of their peers listening to Booker and Regal talk to them. Since their interaction after the run in with Thomas, Zilla and Booker hadn't said much to each other if it wasn't work related.

“Getting TV time doesn't mean you stop practicing and working hard to get better,” Regal informed looking at each of them. “The goal is to stay on TV. Right?”

The group acknowledged him with an answer.

“So if you all know then why are we here right now?”

Silence.

Booker ran a hand over his locs, stepping in to add his own thoughts. “It's great that yall go to promo class, it's great that you're getting TV time but what's not great is yall either half assing it during drills and practice or not showing up at all.”

Zilla honestly didn't understand why he had to be in this conversation. He went to practice, he went to class and he did his thing on TV. With everything he had in his plate, the lady thing he wanted or needed was to be chastised about something he wasn't doing. The whole time Booker spoke, he rolled his eyes and scrunched his face up which didn't go unnoticed by the older man.

“Is there a problem, Zilla?”

He sucked his teeth. “Nah, mane. Go head.”

“You sure? Cause the eye rolling and facial expressions is telling me something different.”

Again, he sucked his teeth. “Man, go head. I ain't say nothing, did I?”

“This is something I need everybody to understand right now. Don't take me for no sucka, I don't disrespect any of you so don't disrespect me,” he moved closer to Zilla as he spoke until he was in front of him and snatched the younger man up from the floor, ripping his shirt in the process. “Cause if you wanna get disrespectful, I can show you how I handle disrespect. Is that understood?”

The two men stood nose to nose with no intentions of backing down. Zilla's chest puffed out from his heavy breathing, his jaw tight and his eyes burned. Booker maintained eye contact with him, seeing the tears in his eyes. Bronco watched the interaction wanting to step in but he knew it wasn't his place and he knew his friend needed it.

“I asked a question. Is it understood?”

Zilla scrunched his face to keep his tears at bay and choked out a ‘yeah’. Booker turned him around and pushed him gently towards the door, letting Regal know they'd be back. He guided the younger man to his office, closing the door behind them, then went to sit on the corner of his desk as Zilla dropped into one of his chairs.

“Let it out, man.”

Zilla choked back a sob, wiping angrily at his eyes. “I'm good.”

“You ain't. Ain't no way you are. I looked into your eyes, man. You're not good.” Booker said softly.

“I am. My bad for what happened.”

“I accept your apology but man it's okay to not be okay. Is everything okay with you and Rye? Or is this about your dad?”

Pulling up the end of his now ripped shirt, Zilla wiped his face with it. He cried softly, unable to hold it in anymore.

“Both,” he mumbled beneath the fabric of the shirt. “This shit is hard, man.”

“I know it's hard, I know it is but turning on the people trying to help you won't make it any easier, Isayah. Your people love you,” Booker explained, moving to kneel in front of the younger man. “Lean on the people that love you instead of leaning away. I know it's hard to be vulnerable but sometimes it's necessary. Alright?”

Zilla nodded, pulling the shirt from his face. “Aight.”

With a smile, Booker stood then pulled Zilla up and into a hug. “Go change your shirt and come back to practice. But understand I meant what I said, I'll put you right on your ass if you do that again.”

Zilla chuckled and agreed.

They left the office going in opposite directions, Booker back to the practice rings and Zilla to the locker room to change shirts. On his way, he went ahead and pulled the ripped shirt off, stuffing part of it into the front of his doors, letting it hang.

“Hey, Zilla!”

Not stopping his stride, Zilla threw his hand up at Gia. “What's up?”

She jogged a little to catch up with him. “Damn you walk fast. Why you in such a hurry?”

“Gotta get back to practice.”

“Your face is red,” she observed stepping in front of him to stop him, “Are you okay? You wanna talk?”

“I'm good, just hot,” he lied, wanting to get away from her. “Ain't nothin to talk about.”

“I feel like you're lying. You can talk to me, Zilla. I'm a good listener.” She smiled, rubbing her hand up and down his bare arm.

He moved her hand off of him, placing it back at her side. “Like I said, I'm good and if I'm not, I talk to my lady or my mama.”

“That girl of yours must have you on a short leash,” she joked. “I mean I can't blame her, I'd wanna hold on to you too.��

He scrunched his face. “I ain't on a leash. I respect my lady and our relationship.”

“Sorry, sorry. I'm just saying every time I talk to you, she comes up. I know she's there, you don't have to worry I'm not gonna try anything. I can appreciate a good looking man and be respectful.”

Shaking his head, Zilla moved around her and went to the locker room. After he changed his shirt, he checked his phone to see if he had any notifications.

Aunt Kami

9:33am

Saturday @ 10am. I'll send the location. You can take Rye if you want.

Zilla smiled a little at the message.

Zilla

1:15pm

My bad, been workin. Thank u, Auntie!!!!

He exited their thread then went into Moriah's. His smile grew a little wider.

Moriah

11:30am

Just wanted to let you know that I'm going into my first surgery in 30 minutes! It's a short one, not more than a hour but I'm so nervous and excited!

Zilla

1:20pm

I'M SO DAMN PROUD OF YOU, FAT!! I know u did amazing, baby. I love u

Zilla tucked his phone away and locked his things back up before he left the locker room. He opted to run back in order to avoid Gia, in case she was lurking around.

After surgery, Moriah stayed with Nia long enough for her to wake up so she knew Moriah had been there the whole time. When her parents came in, she slipped out to go grab the food she had delivered for the young girl. She sat it up in Nia's room with Toni's help.

“You need to get your man to go on back home.”

Moriah chuckled softly. “If I could, I would, Toni. What happened?”

“He walked in on us last night. Interrupted my moment.”

Moriah laughed, taking a peek at her friend's face. “A moment that you swore wasn't gonna happen because yall are just friends?”

“That is not the point, ma'am. The point is, it was interrupted.”

“I got more than a I love you today so maybe he'll be back soon,” Moriah shrugged, putting the parents’ food to the side. “Tell me about it though. Did you finally get some? Cause if you did, I'm gonna need him to try again you still mean.”

Toni wadded up a napkin and threw it at her friend. “I am not mean. No, we didn't. After that lil run in, the mood was killed.”

“Damn, I'm sorry. Try again tonight, at your place.”

“We can't leave his brother by himself, Rye.”

Moriah thought for a moment. “He can spend the night with me. I could use the company and I'll take him to school on my way to work tomorrow.”

“Sounds like a plan. Two birds with one stone. I'll let Bronco know.”

Before Moriah left the hospital, she stopped by Nia's room to check on her and to let her know that she would see her in the morning. She stopped by the store to get something to cook for dinner and snacks for him before she went home. She texted Toni to let her know that they could drop him off whenever they were ready.

A facetime call interrupted her music as she cooked. She answered it quickly, seeing Arthur's name.

“My favorite!” She said excitedly.

“Hey, sweetheart. How you doing?”

She propped her phone up so they could see each other while she cooked. “I'm alright, Art. How are you?”

“I'm okay. Worried about you though.”

She smiled briefly at him. “I'm okay, no need to worry about me.”

“If you lie to me, I can't help, Rye.”

Setting her tongs to the side, she leaned against the counter behind her and stared at the phone.

“I'll be okay, Art. It'll be okay. I promise.”

“I talked to him. He told me you told him about Angel and he left. Why you didn't call me, manamea?”

She shrugged. “I didn't think he would be gone this long. I thought he would've come back the next day and when he didn't … I don't know. I just didn't wanna talk. He's so mad.”

“He's mad, he's hurt, he's angry but not with you. I don't know if he bit your head off but he tried to bite mine off,” Arthur chuckled, “But he knows it's misplaced anger. He knows.”

“Yeah,” she said softly, wiping her eyes. “It's been a week but he's texting back now at least.”

Arthur wished he could teach through the phone and hug her because he knew she needed one. This is what she had been terrified of all these years and it was happening.

“What did he do when you told him?”

“He asked questions, he would barely look at me. He yelled at me but he apologized right after. I was frustrating him.”

“Frustrating him?”

“He asked me what happened to Angel and where he was and I was telling him that I didn't wanna tell him.”

Arthur sat quietly for a moment, he wanted to say that his little brother shouldn't have done that but given the situation and the emotions in that moment, he could understand it.

“You weren't frustrating him, the situation was, Rye. Do you want me to come out there? I can clear my schedule for yall.”

She shook her head moving back to the stove. “No you don't gotta do that. We'll figure it out.”

“I hate this for yall but I'm proud of you for telling him, Rye. And I know you're glad you were able to tell him before Nadine did.”

The doorbell going off interrupted their conversation, she let him know that she would call him later and went to get the door. She smiled seeing Javier standing there with his bookbag and overnight bag. She hugged him then invited him in, she took his bags sitting them beside the sofa.

“I'm so glad you're here Javi. Dinner is almost ready. You didn't eat yet, right?”

“No ma'am, my brother told me you were cooking. Thank you for having me.”

She cooed, going to pinch his cheeks. “Awwe, you're so polite. You can call me Rye, okay? You don't have to say ma'am, I'm not that old yet.”

He laughed going to sit on the sofa. Moriah went to close the door but was stopped by a hand. She panicked for a second then noticed the ‘630” tattoo and breathed a sigh of relief as she opened the door back for him. They locked eyes as he stepped inside, pushing the door closed with his hand.

“Hi,” she greeted softly.

He greeted her just as softly. “What's up, Fat?”

She wanted to hug him but she honestly didn't know if she should or could so she played with her fingers to keep from touching him.

“I'm gonna go finish dinner.”

He nodded. “Ima shower real quick. You need anything before I get in?”

She shook her head.

“You sure before I get in?”

She smiled a little at the familiarity. “I'm sure, Zay.”

Again, he nodded then turned his attention to Javier. “Aight, Javi, make sure she don't burn our food, man.”

The trio sat on the sofa eating dinner and watching one of the John Wick movies. Moriah sat between them, trying to ignore her boyfriend's eyes constantly staring a hole into the side of her face. He would look away long enough to take bites of his food and catch a scene or two but that was it. At least she knew he'd missed her as much as she'd missed him. When they were all done, Moriah took their dishes to the kitchen and cleaned up while Zilla showed Javier how the shower worked and set up his blanket and pillows on the sofa. He was done before Moriah so he went to lean against the breakfast bar to watch her.

“How did the surgery go?”

She jumped and squealed, turning to face him. “Dammit, Zay. I forgot you were here.”

“My bad,” he chuckled.

“It's alright. It went really good. It was a hernia removal on a 5 year old.”

He frowned. “How does a 5 year old get a hernia?”

“When their intestines bulge through the abdominal wall inside the belly button they can develop one.”

“That sound painful. How was it seeing it?”

Moriah smiled as she wiped down the counter. “It was really cool honestly. It was crazy to see how big it was. She was a trooper though.”

“Yeah? She went home today?”

“Uhn uhn. She'll be there two more days and she's excited about it cause she doesn't wanna leave me.”

He chucked. “I bet you love that.”

“A lil,” she laughed.

He let her finish her cleaning in silence, keeping his eyes on her. Javier came back out to the living room and got comfortable on the sofa, remote in hand.

“You got your alarm set, Javi?”

“Yup, all set, Rye.”

“Your phone on the charger?”

He sat up to check it. “Yup, it's good. Can I watch TV?”

“Sure,” she smiled, “If you want a snack or drink, you're welcome to whatever is in the kitchen, Javi.”

He grinned at her before turning his attention to the TV. “Thank you.”

Zilla approached Moriah, speaking softly. “Can we talk outside, Fat?” When she agreed, he grabbed her hand. “We gon step outside for a few, Javi. Yell if you need us.”

They sat beside each other on the first step, shoulder to shoulder. The night breeze gently whipped around them.

“First, let me apologize for walkin’ out like that and not lettin’ you know I was aight. No matter how upset I was, that wasn't right.”

“I accept your apology, Zay.”

“Second, I don't hate you and I'm not mad at you so get that thought out your head. You my Fat and I love you.”

She nodded, blinking a few tears out. “I love you too.”

“I can't imagine how scared you was that whole time and the pain that must've caused. You needed me and I wasn't there, I'm sorry, Moriah.”

She laid her head on his shoulder, crying softly. She wanted to tell him that he didn't need to apologize but she needed to hear that.

“Thank you for apologizing. I gotta be honest, a part of the reason I was so mad at you and refused to come see you was because of Angel.” She admitted softly. “I knew that my mom would've probably still did what she did if you weren't locked up but I wanted you there. I needed you, Angel needed you and you left us.”

His face scrunched as he tried and failed to keep his tears at bay. They betrayed him, slipping from his eyes in rapid succession. He moved the arm she laid on, wrapping it around her and pulling her closer to him.

“I regret not being there for you and him, it's something ima spend the rest of my life tryna make up for. I appreciate you been honest with me, Fat. I gotta be honest with you too.”

“I'm listening.”

“I love you and I don't wanna lose you but if you let your mom back in your life, I can't promise that ima stay. My love for you is the only thing keepin me from doin anything to her. I can't have her in my life, Moriah.” He spoke honestly. “She took our baby from us and probably any possibility of having another. She took what would've been a piece of my pops from me and my family. Do you get that?”

“I got it, Zay. I do.”

“That's the only thing I'm asking of you. Keep her out of our lives. She don't want shit but to tear us down and tear us apart. You got me, my family, your dad and the rest of your family … you don't need shit from her.”

“I'm done with her. She's not coming back unless you and I decide that she can. I've washed my hands of her. I promise.”

Nodding, he put his finger under her chin tilting her head back. He wiped the lingering tears from her face then kissed her softly.

“I love you, aight?”

“Aight,” she giggled softly. “I love you more.”

“Damn I missed you.”

“Not as much as I missed you, big head.”

“Two more things though.”

She raised a brow waiting for him to finish.

“We changing your number tomorrow.”

“Okay, second thing?”

“Since Zilla can't get you pregnant right now, can Zilla throw his condoms out?” He laughed.

“Boy,” she laughed, “They're tied not burnt but I guess you can throw them out.”

“What that mean?”

“It means that there's a small chance that I can get pregnant but very small. And if we want I can reverse the procedure but it's not guaranteed to work.”

Zilla pecked her lips a few times making her giggle. “Well guess we gon find out how small that chance is.”

#aao #Zilla & Moriah #zilla fatu #the samoan dynasty #the bloodline

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gunnerkriggcritical · 1 month ago

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This is definitely reading too much into Tony and Tom so feel free to disagree... BUT I've been thinking about it a lot and I gotta ramble a bit.

Tony is portrayed as a very stoic man, who deeply loves his wife and daughter(s, because sometimes he has two). Whether or not he actually IS, is up for debate, but there's no doubt that's how Tom wants to PORTRAY him.

There's a bit in the Mind Cage that I think is supposed to show this. Idra says that Annie is "spoiled" because her dad *wasn't* there to "set her straight"--and Jones and Anja both semi-agree! (What the fuck Anja!) Parents aren't supposed to "set you straight", they're supposed to teach you how to be a functional human being *before* you fuck up so bad you need to be set straight. Of course Annie was unruly and headstrong--a child who grew up playing with ghosts in the hospital would have a hard time adjusting to a regular school, even with an alive mom and present dad. But she didn't have that. So, she was allowed to run wild, and then when Tony returned, he had to "set her straight"... by immediately humiliating her in front of her friends (the people who were ACTUALLY THERE FOR HER AFTER HER MOM DIED), and he was just casually cruel in a way he didn't have to be.

But anyway. It brings to mind the stereotype of the stoic British father, who is silent and stern and stone faced, but still have love for their kids, and show it through actions the kids are meant to interpret, rather than words that the kids can understand. These dads don't cuddle their kids or call them poppet, but they will bandage their foot (stoically, with their face away from their child) while their kid gently tugs on their shirt. They'll sternly say "wipe off that makeup!" in front of your peers and embarrass you, but that's because he was taken off guard and he feels bad about it :( But they love you, don't you know that? You don't need to hear it, just feel it. And an apology is ridiculous, you already know they feel bad, don't you?

(And I don't care he has his mind cage on around Annie, he can and does say sentences to her. Or he could have said something to the Annie he opened up to! He doesn't have to cry, just fucking say "I'm sorry"!!! Dude!!!)

Tom has never seemed to care about whether people think his characters are good people. Like, he didn't make a chapter explaining how Zimmy and Gamma's relationship is Good, Actually--he just said "they're happy together and their feelings are requited and that's all there is to it". And he didn't feel the need to defend Paz and Kat's relationship, either; they were just two girls who were in a regular high school romance. They just are, and if people raise criticisms, founded or unfounded, he goes "eh, whatevs, it's my comic" and let's it roll off his back. But Tony? Tony gets a whole chapter where his abuse victim stands up and says "I don't care if he continues to neglect and abuse me, because I will always stay by his side and enable his mental dysfunction, rather than setting boundaries."

And I'm just stuck with "why". Why is Tom so protective of the fan's perception of Tony, rather than Annie or Zimmy or Kat?

And the answer I came to is... I wonder if Tony based off of Tom's dad? I don't think it's an exact one to one, because Tony is a fictional character and is exaggerated in ways real life people can never be (like, there's aspects of autism alluded to in Mind Cage, but it's not... realistic). But I wonder if Tom also had a relationship like "my dad only seems emotionally distant, but he actually loves his kid(s) a lot, he just has trouble showing it".

Tom (as far as we know) was never a high school girl in a relationship with another girl, nor was he tormented by hallucinations of monsters that could only be dispelled by his lover/friend/therapist/emotional crutch, and he was also (hopefully) not in a sexually/romantically charged relationship with an immeasurable age gap (ex Jones and Eglamore, Ysengrin/Jerrick and Annie). So if people complain, it's whatever to him. But, if Tony was based on his dad, then it's understandable why people pointing out the faults of Tony hit a bit closer to home for him.

But also maybe I'm wrong. I don't know Tom nor his family, nor do I really want to. This specific thing just stuck out to me because one of the things I always admired about Tom was how much he said "I don't care what the fans say, this is my comic and my characters, and you guys can take it or leave it". But then the Mind Cage seems like the complete opposite of that philosophy, where he makes all the characters spell out why Tony is a good dad. So it got stuck in my craw a bit, why there was this 180.

But I also could be wrong! We'll probably never know.

All so true! Thanks for this thoughtful ask. I think there actually was some point where Tom said outright that Tony is based off either his dad or himself? Even if not, I think you’re probably right on the money. Everything makes perfect sense if the author sees Tony as less of a character and more of an avatar of a real person he knows.

#gunnerkrigg #gunnerkrigg court #gunnerkrigg court critical #answers

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michelleleewise · 2 years ago

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Chocolate and Promises

Pairing: Loki x female reader (eventually)

Warnings: swearing, mild depictions of domestic abuse,depression, minor mention of blood (not graphic), over excursion, crying, emotional breakdowns, mild violence (not very graphic), pining, emerging feelings.

Summary: three months after returning to the tower you find some closure....as new feelings begin to surface......

A/n- second half of part 2!! All parts are on my masterlist at the top. 💚

Graphics by: @harlequin-hangout

Part 2 A-- Part 2 B-

You sat on the bench, pulling your stockings on smiling, it felt good...it felt normal. You stood up, pulling them to you waist grabbing the black leather shorts you had purchased just for tonight, remembering that shopping trip well.....

"Loki, I can go myself." You said grabbing your jacket "I only wish to come help you darling." He said following close behind you when you turned making him almost run into you "no, you want to keep an eye on me." You said eyeing him, seeing his cheeks turn a slight pink. "Well...i....you see...." he rambled when you put your hand up "will it make you feel better?" You asked smiling. "Very much so." He said smiling back "fine, come on." You huffed heading to the elevator. You didn't want him to see the outfit for tonight so you made him wait up front, much to his chagrin "its a surprise Loki." You said stenrly seeing him roll his eyes "very well, call if you need me." He said with a small smile before walking to the front of the shop.

You gathered what you needed, peeking up to the front seeing a man walk up and smile at Loki. Something inside you wanted to go slap him in the face and tell him to leave. You stood there a minute wondering why you felt like that. Maybe all the time you had been spending with him the last few months made you possessive? a small voice inside you screaming "mine" as the man touched his arm. You shook your head trying to clear the thoughts before going to a cashier to pay. "He's your friend y/n, your best friend, why are you thinking like that?" You asked yourself setting everything on the belt "oo, your boyfriend is gonna love this." The lady behind the counter said tilting her head towards Loki "oh...no he's my friend." You clarified. "Oh, well that's a crime, he's delicious." She smiled, making you want to slap her too.

You grabbed the tight leather top, slipping it on you laced up the front when you heard your phone go off, looking down seeing Loki had text you.

L-"Darling, are you going to tell me what your performance is yet?"

Y/n- "noooo! I told you it's a surprise! Patience Mischief."

You typed back setting your phone down hearing Thor's booming voice singing about liking big butts making you laugh. A few weeks ago Tony wanted to throw another one of his parties when you suggested a karaoke night, telling him it would be fun because everyone could participate, which he readily agreed to. You stepped in front of the mirror, looking yourself up and down smiling, the slit down the front of your top accentuated your breasts, the hem landing just above your belly button and you loved it. you were honestly in the best shape of your life thanks to Loki....

"Hey Loki, can I ask you something?" You asked seeing him walk into the kitchen in his black shorts and tight top wiping the sweat off his forehead with a towel, for some reason making you squirm. "Anything darling." He smiled sitting at kitchen island "would you possibly be willing to...train me?" You asked looking town rubbing the skin under your puffy eye, atleast you could see out of it now. "Absolutely darling, did you wish to start tomorrow?" He asked smiling "that would be great, thank you Loki." You said reaching out grabbing his hand squeezing it "there is nothing I would not do for you my dear." He smiled squeezing your hand back.

A month in you felt like you had made no progress. You just wanted to be able to defend yourself, you never wanted to be in that situation again, but no matter how hard you tried you couldnt do it. You had stayed late one night hitting the punching bag with your ear buds in, trying to calm your mind when the the flashes began...the bruises, the way he would grab you harshly when he was angry, the days spent in bed recovering after you he had gotten upset with you, the way he used you as he saw fit...the rage you felt came out as you screamed and pummeled the bag, hitting it over and over not noticing the red left behind "You will never touch me again!" You screamed, hitting the bag harder when you felt a hand on your shoulder.

Spinning around you lost your footing feeling two large arms wrap around you, smelling pine and snow you looked up seeing Loki looking at you, his eyes glossy. Without thinking you grabbed the front of his shirt, balling it in your fists "He will never touch me again!" You yelled feeling the tears run down your cheeks "He'll never put his hands on me again.."you trailed off, everything slamming into you at once you wrapped your arms around him burying your face in his chest gripping the back of his shirt. Your knees gave out as the sobs racked through you, Loki sinking to his knees with you, not loosening his grip, rocking you back and forth "no, he will never touch you again." He said as he pulled you into his lap, holding onto you.

Ever since that night, Loki had stayed close by. Whether it be to talk, to listen, to hold you together as you fell apart or to just be there, an immovable force against your own self doubt. You weren't sure where you would be if not for him, you owed more to him then he knew. You put the finishing touches on your makeup, finding the brightest red lipstick you could find on top of a very dark smokey eye you smiled into the mirror, securing your braids with a few more bobby pins before grabbing your knee high leather boots, slipping your feet in lacing them up you saw your phone go off again.

T- hey kid, your up next.....you ready?

Y/n- as ready as I'll ever be....

You text Tony back setting your phone down you got up taking a deep breath. You walked over grabbing Loki's cloak wrapping it around your shoulders, he added a clasp in the front so you could secure it when he saw you carrying it out with you everywhere. You went to the door, grabbing the knob closing your eyes "I can do this.." you whispered to yourself as you opened the door and headed to the stage.

"Hey Rudolph, how is everything looking?" Tony asked stepping up next to Loki "all is well....he is here, I have been watching." Loki said looking around "good, y/n is up next so he prepared." Tony said wandering off. He made his way through the crowd keeping an eye on Allen, he wasn't sure he would show, but Tony convinced him inviting him with the prostpect of seeing y/n he would show, and as much as Loki loathed to admit it, he was right. He moved closer, remaining as far behind as he could when the house lights went out, plunging the room in darkness, giving Loki the opportunity to come up right behind him.

He looked to the stage, the bright purple and green lights coming up on stage as you slowly walk out, your long hair braided on the sides making him smile, your lips looked like rubies and when you opened your eyes there was a fire he hadn't seen before "my valkyrie.." he whispered as you stopped in the middle of the stage, his cloak firmly wrapped around you as you lifted your arm up, bringing the microphone to those beautiful lips...

Like a small boat..On the ocean..Sending big waves..Into motion

Like how a single word..Can make a heart open..I might only have one match..But I can make an explosion

Your eyes slowly scanned the crowd, you knew he was here, but you were determined, he had no power anymore.

And all those things I didn't say..Wrecking balls inside my brain..I will scream them loud tonight..Can you hear my voice this time?

Your threw your arms back, the cloak whipping behind you as the beat picked up, hearing gasps from the crowd, stomping your foot on the floor hearing it echo...

This is my fight song..Take back my life song..Prove I'm alright song..My power's turned on..Starting right now I'll be strong..I'll play my fight song..And I don't really care if nobody else believes

'Cause I've still got a lot of fight left in me

Loki watched as everyone moved closer to the stage, waving their arms with you. "Brother, isn't that your cloak?" He heard Thor next to him. He smiled looking over at him "it is hers now." He said "Mm, yes a warrior does need a cloak." He heard Thor say, turning his attention back to you, the tight leather of your outfit mixed with his colors stirred something deep in him.

Losing friends and I'm chasing sleep..Everybody's worried about me..In too deep..Say I'm in too deep (in too deep)..And it's been two years I miss my home..But there's a fire burning in my bones

Still believe..Yeah, I still believe..And all those things I didn't say..Wrecking balls inside my brain..I will scream them loud tonight..Can you hear my voice this time?

You glided across the stage, feeling the cloak billowing behind you..it made you feel strong, confident. It reminded you Loki was there...and always would be.

'Cause I've still got a lot of fight left in me..Alot of fight left in me..

You held your arm out, drawing out the last word as you sank to your knees at the front of stage. Kneeling you looked out locking eyes with Allen, a shiver running down your spine when your eyes met Loki's, a bright smile on his face warming your heart, tilting your head down.

Like a small boat..On the ocean..Sending big waves..Into motion..Like how a single word..Can make a heart open..I might only have one match..But I can make an explosion

You leaned forward, banging your fist on the stage in beat with the song.

This is my fight song...

Take back my life song...

Prove I'm alright song...

My power's turned on...

You jumped to your feet, stomping your boots on the stage, waving your arm looking out seeing the crowd doing the same.

Starting right now I'll be strong...

I'll play my fight song...

And I don't really care if nobody else believes...

'Cause I've still got a lot of fight left in me...

Know I've still got a lot of fight left in me...

You held your arms out, closing your eyes panting hearing the room filled with claps and cheers as you bowed, pulling the cloak back around you you waved making your way off stage eyes meeting Loki's again, you smiled wide as you dipped off stage and headed back to you the tiny dressing room.

Loki stood clapping when a voice drew his attention "I always knew she was a whore." Allen's voice permeated his brain bringing him back when he stepped in front of him, standing at his full height so he towered over him "and what do you want?" Allen snapped at him making him smile. He leaned closer, his smile never faltering "I want....a word." He growled not breaking eye contact. "Like im going anyhwere with..." he trailed off as Loki grabbed his shirt dragging him the the elevator. "Let go of me you psycho!" Allen yelled trying to pry his hand away. He was about to yell for help when a green light flashed in front of him, suddenly placing him on the roof.

He looked around seeing he was alone. "What the.." he started when he heard footsteps, turning to see Loki come out of the shadows. "For most of my life I believd I was a monster." Loki said slowly walking towards him "but it is not I who is a monster." He growled, two daggers appearing in his hands. "Look man, if you want her you can have her, she wasn't that great anyway." Allen said as Loki lunged forward kicking him in the chest, flying across the roof he landed on his back knocking the wind out of him. "On asgard, I would have your head.." Loki said coming up next "but I think this will suffice." He growled, grabbing Allen's arm he brought his dagger down severing his hand from his arm making him scream.

Allen cradled his arm to his chest, getting to his feet "your crazy! Wait until I tell stark! You'll he on the next shipment to asgard!" Allen yelled backing up. Loki twirled his dagger smiling "oh, you think he will believe you?" He snarked "you are but an ant under my boot." Loki said, a slow smile spreading across his face when Allen took off to the elevator, stopping when he saw Loki standing there "w..wait, what.." he trailed off when another Loki came up on his right, two more on the left "what are you doing!?" Allen yelled backing up "us...we are merely talking." They all said in unison as he ran back towards the ledge, running into a wall of muscle, looking up freezing at the red eyes that were staring down at him. "A monster deserves a monster." Loki growled, his blue skin shining in the moon light. "Tell me...allen...what are you most afraid of?" Loki asked as Allen stepped back.

Tony walked out of the elevator, making his way to the ledge seeing Allen cowering on the ground, Loki stranding over him his fingers engulphed in green. "So, how's it going?" He asked stepping up next to him "oh, it is quite entertaining." Loki laughed, continuing his manipulation hearing Allen scream "well y/n is looking for you, so you hurry it up." Tony said as Loki nodded. He closed his eyes, picturing that outfit you were wearing, the smile on your face, the strength that radiated from you. He dove back into the enchantment, holding Allen over the ledge of the tower, his eyes frozen on him "if I ever see or hear about you again, rest assured I will take her penance from you personally...slowly and very painfully." He growled as Allen stared at him "you will beg me to end your pathetic life, because trust me...there are worse things then death. Do I make myself clear?" He growled through gritted teeth seeing Allen nod. "Good...now leave!" Loki yelled, throwing him across the roof breaking the enchantment as Allen got up and ran to the elevator.

Loki made his way to your dressing room, knocking as he fixed his tie when you ripped the door open jumping into his arms. He sighed, feeling your warmth against him, the smell of your hair and perfume surrounding him making him shudder when you pulled back "are you ok?" You asked looking up at him "yes my dear, never better." He smiled as you grabbed his hand and pulled him inside. You still had that outfit on, his eyes traveling down to your top, tracing the laces with his eyes stopping at the swell of your breasts, his throat suddenly going dry when you turned and bent over, your shorts riding up enough to see the beautiful curve of your bottom. "The outfit wasn't too much was it?" You asked, bringing him back "n..no..not all at all, you were amazing my dear." He said sitting down, looking everywhere but at you.

"Oh thank God! I was worried it looked bad." You laughed sitting on the bench unlacing your boots "absolutely not! You look magnificent." He smiled. You got up, walking up to him grabbing his hands "I was wondering if after I got changed if you wanted to go watch a movie with me?" You asked smiling "I would love nothing more." He smiled back, reaching up gliding his fingers over your braids hearing you sigh. "I love when you play with my hair." You said closing your eyes "well then I'll have to do it more often then." He said laughing. "Well you wait out there and I'll be out in a second." You smiled seeing him nod.

Loki walked into the hallway closing the door he leaned on the wall. Where were these feelings coming from?..he asked himself closing his eyes. You're his friend..his best friend..why was he thinking of you like that?..he asked himself shaking his head. He assumed it was from all the time you had been spending together. One thing he knew for sure was he needed to get whatever this was under control and fast, cause be couldn't risk losing you for anything.....

@vbecker10 @lokisgoodgirl @sinsandguilt @high-functioning-lokipath @mochie85 @slytherclaw1227 @jaidenhawke @budugu @xorpsbane @schizonephilim @lokidokieokie @holdmytesseract @your-taste-on-my-lips @lokixryss @asgardianprincess1050 @tallseaweed @aniar4wniak @sekaishell @lokispetblogs @loopsisloops @trojanaurora @lonadane @yelkmelk @stupidthoughtsinwriting @silverfire475 @goblingirlsarah @commanding-officer @glitterylokislut @kkdvkyya @cueloki @daggers-and-mischief @sititran @witchyblue @verycollectivecreator @nixymarvelkins @chantsdemarins @shinraski @usagishira @nightshadelm @filthyhiddles @dukes2581 @assemblingavenger @lulubelle814 @irishhappiness @wolfsmom1 @luvlady-writes @lovingchoices14 @thomase1 @myworldgoesboomz

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pleasetakethis · 11 months ago

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New favorite ep of the season acquired the moment it opened. Some shippy rambling in the live blogging ahead.

If you know me at all, you know right off the bat that I AM UNHINGED ABOUT THIS EPISODE.

NATPEGGY YASSSSSSSSSSSSSS

THE BACKSTORY INTRO!

"What are new friends for?"

THEM SHOWING OFF THEIR MOVES TO EACH OTHER !!!!!

Wasp, too??? Yasss, all the ladies!!!!!!!!!!

Peggy and Nat already working so well together in combat and the level of trust that already exists between them, I just--slkdjflasdjfklajflajlfkjas

Them sassing Loki !!!!!!

Intro credits: Elizabeth Olsen???? Wanda's here, too????? Super spoiler alert: I waited so long for her to show up 🤣

Me and the Watcher feel the same about Captain Peggy Carter <3

The role reversal when Peggy picks up Nat in that slick ass car while Nat's running... guhhhhhh.

I am here for all versions of evil Steve, including brainwashed.

SCRUFFY SKINNY STEVE!

CA: TWS parallels got me in my feels, too. Peggy/Nat is THE SHIP for me, but there's something about Peggy/Steve that hits just right the same way as Tony/Pepper, Steve/Tony, and Steve/Bucky.

The framing of these shots got me--Peggy in the background pissed because she wasn't told about the rumors of the Hydra Stomper, while Nat (listening) definitely knew about Steve:

AHHH, PEGGY'S FACE WHEN SHE REALIZED NAT KNEW:

AND DIDN'T TELL HER:

SDALKFJLAKJFLAJS

Natasha quipping "Didn't see the point in breaking your heart twice," fucked me up, oh.

DILF old man Bucky <3 Bucky getting to grow old!!!! WIBBLES.

Guess it's gonna take both of the loves of Steve's Rogers life to get through to him? lmaooo

Peggy is the perfect mirror of Captain America Steve. In goodness, selflessness, AND their particular brand of self-righteous selfishness. I love both of them for it, but especially Peggy <3

Bucky standing up and saying Steve would be stupid enough to do the same for him. 😭 Bucky trying to get through to Steve. 😭

"What can I say, Peg? I'm a sucker for a good love story." Damn, that hurts for a million different reasons. oh, Nat. <3

UMMMM the way Nat sits back and says, "You know, I always wondered how you got all those G.I. boys to follow a woman into war? Question answered." !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! BRAIN EMPTY! ONLY PEGGYNAT! And Nat couldn't be more obvious if she tried, but she does it so well and Peggy is distracted.

Are you kidding me with the framing of this shot?

I feel like it's foreshadowing but IT SCREAMS pining. A lot of pining:

Barton introduced Peggy to dad rock <3 fuck yes

Widow bites interrupting the kiss, lol.

Peggy being a weak point for Nat, to the point Nat gets nabbed by widow bites, JFC.

Peggy will die for Steve, the same way Steve would have died for Bucky--ughhh I do not like but I understand.

"Mission accomplished." !!! Hot damn, that was slick, A++, AND Nat tells Peggy she doesn't want to fight about it. 😏

THERE WAS A MUSICAL!

BAMF Melina. Love to hate her when she's on the wrong side, parent/child issues me in a weird way these days and this ep got under my skin.

But also: guhhhhhh these Widows.

"This isn't us! I am done fighting, Steve. [drops shield] I have been fighting for so long: to end the war, to forget what I lost. I'm… I'm tired." oh, Peggy.

oh, Steve.

oh, Nat.

This ep got me in the feels, all of them.

Peggy going back for Nat AND them running out together <3

Ugh, Nat and her transparent, "Okay. Let's hit the road." Just: THEM.

...and oops, Peggy's gone.

But then! OOOO, this Fury! AND FINALLY, WANDA!!!!!

Overall: similar in ep 4 in that it was close to the emotional impact of Stephen's ep in the first season but still missed the mark (and tbh the Tony ep hit harder, but more because of Tony's characterization--Peggy is fairly consistent, Tony is not, so getting him so right (for me) was incredible). I adore this ep, I love Peggy, I love Nat, I enjoy this universe, and I hope we visit their universe again (if not, there's always fanfic, my beloved).

#what if #what if s2 #what if s2 spoilers #s2e5 #what if captain carter fought the hydra stomper #watched with shipping goggles FIRMLY on #peggynat #all the peggynat #but mostly nat pining #that's my takeaway #i loved it #i loved the touch of stucky #i loved older bucky #i loved all the peggynat interactions #i loved peggy being peggy and letting herself be manipulated by steve #but ultimately getting through #i loved nat at peggy's side #i loved evil (brainwashed) steve #i did not love peggy giving up and saying no matter what she was done and she'd go out with steve if that's what it took #i understand it #esp after the bar scene in the s1 finale when she wanted to go back to her time #but i hate it #what i want for this peggy's character development is for her to understand she can be happy in the current timeline without steve #buuuut i don't see that happening outside of fanfic so #i'll take what i can get

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earanemith · 9 months ago

Text

Promises made

Chapter 6: Home

Read on Ao3

She hated it with a passion. Understanding they needed to turn her, put pillows in different places touch her, and liking it were two very different things. Looking forward to the day she was able and allowed to do it herself so they'd stop touching her. The only positive thing about it was Miriam. She was very glad that Miriam seemed to be her main nurse. Where the others just came in and did what needed to be done. Miriam talked to her while doing it. Warning her every time when she was going to touch her. It made her less anxious to be told beforehand what would happen with her body. Already she felt unstable enough without the uncertainty of what would happen.

This time Miriam did not come in with the goal to move her body.

"Hello Ziva. I am going to take you to get some more scans. If they look good you will start with physical therapy."

No better news could have come at that time. This laying around was not what she and thus by extend her body was used to. Every time Liat held up the cup to let her drink she could feel the weakness in her arms, from disuse. If everything in her life was changing she at least could get back on of the things she'd loved before. Exercising, keeping her body moving. In the past it had also helped her get her mind of other things.

Rolling Ziva's bed out of the room was the last Liat saw from both of them for the next hour. Not noticing that as soon as Ziva's bed was moved the woman in question closed her eyes. The scans were taken and after Ziva was being rolled in again. Liat could see the exhaustion on her face. Not surprising. The moving that came with preventing bedsores already made her tired. Moving her to the scanning machines would take even more energy from Ziva.

Back barely half an hour and doctor Raviv already entered the room.

"I have very good news for you Ziva" she said as a way of greeting "the scans look good. The events from a couple of days ago did no further damage. For both your spine and pelvic region there are good signs that it's starting to heal."

Finally some good news. While Ziva tried her hardest to pretend her emotional outburst at Eli's abandonment hadn't happened she had feared she made things worse for herself.

"Later today your physical therapist will visit you to discuss everything. I will also send in a dietitian. Before we can truly get you out of this bed and moved to occupational therapy we need to be sure to get you eating again. Any questions?"

"No, thank you doctor Raviv" pleased with the good news she had gotten.

- -

Habits. Hard to break if it was a wrong one, hard to get right if it was something not completely natural to the person. After his weeks at sea only one habit had stuck. Not the getting up early, he still had as much trouble with that as before. Writing his letters to Ziva however did stick.

Even with being back at his desk, the place he longed to be back at the moment he left. Even with being able to actually talk to Abby, tease McGee, get his head set straight by a slap to it by Gibbs. He still needed her. Not that he'd ever thought he would not. Getting to walk back into the bullpen every morning was great. Finally hearing from Ziva would be better. It became clear to him that no one from NCIS had heard from her since she left. The only one he had not approached about it was director Vance. He'd rather not do that.

Not after his attempt to question Gibbs about her. They had been going to a witnesses house to question them when on the drive there Tony had finally dared to ask.

"Have you heard from Ziva?"

Silence as it was so often with Gibbs was also his answer now.

"I never thought I'd say this but I miss our Israeli officer. Did you know that neither McGee or Abby have heard from her? I had hoped you had any contact with her, is she on another mission for Mossad? She told me once it wasn't all hot women and car chases but I had always wondered if she was just.."

"DiNozzo. Your rambling" His boss said in a gruff voice, Tony knew that if Gibbs had not been driving instead of speaking he'd have head slapped him.

"Shutting up boss"

So, even though he had gotten almost everything he had wished for he still picked up his pen and paper and wrote to her. Late in the night when no one would glance twice at the senior field agent still at his desk.

The hope that she was send out on a mission and unable to contact him at all grew smaller and smaller. Or maybe it just got harder to cling to that hope.

As always he started his letter with her name. Just her name.

'Ziva, McGee and I have been back at NCIS for some time now and it is not the same without you here. I need my partner. You still haven't contacted me. I know what we said right before we left but.... I am starting to get worried. Where are you? Do you know how many times I picked up my phone to call you? The only thing that prevented me to press call was you yelling at me for compromising the mission you're on. That is the only explanation I can think of for you not contacting me.'

- -

Just as promised later that day a new face entered the hospital room. Shaking Ziva's hand and introducing herself as "Rasha" explaining since she and Ziva would be working close together she did not see the need for fancy titles or last names.

"Now I read through your medical file but I would like to hear from you what your life looked liked before you came here. How much exercise did you get? That way I can best make a plan for our sessions to get your body in the best condition for when you start occupational therapy"

"The normal amount. I always run...ran about eight kilometers every morning. Three times a week I would go to the gym for martial arts training. Sometimes more if work allow it. "

Inside Rasha had to chuckle, with Ziva saying the normal amount. Rasha read in the files that Ziva was a Mossad officer. Now she did not know about their training regime but she had patients that were in the IDF before, knowing how much they trained Rasha could only believe Mossad was at least that focused on physical strength and health.

"That is a good baseline to start from. That means you are in excellent form" her level of health greatly improved the odds of her recovery.

"I am not so sure about that" Ziva answered her even though no question was asked. "Since I have woken up my friend has had to help me hold a cup, they have to move me because I cannot do it myself. My arms feel weak"

"That is all perfectly normal. Your body has had to go through a lot these past weeks. The weakness you experience is normal after the coma you've been in. Loss of strength is already expected after a week. Let alone the time it was for you." A soft smile appeared on Rasha's face. If all of her patients were in the shape Ziva had been in before she would for sure see quicker recoveries. "The fact that you were in good shape before your accident means that your body is used to working. We will get you back in shape, get your strength back up. I cannot promise you you'll get back one hundred percent. But if you are willing to work so am I. Don't forget your body is also not getting the nutrients the way it is used to. Once you get back to eating you will find your strength will return fast. I'll take my notes and start working on a program. I will be back tomorrow. Prepare to start working then."

- -

The dietician Michael was a nice enough man, though that was maybe also due to Ziva's excitement at him being there. Longing for a bite of real food, not ice chips. After checking her mouth and swallow reflex quickly jolting things down in his file he gave her the good news. "You are good to go with oral ingestion again. Any swelling from the ventilator is gone. This does not mean you can immediately get back to eating full meals. You're digestive track has not been working on solid foods for too long for that. We will start you off slowly with broths onto mashes and introduce more fiber into your diet again. It is all written out so the nurses can handle that. I will check in periodically with you to see if the plan needs to be tweaked." Looking up when Miriam came into the room holding a tray with a bowl on it. "Now are you ready for real food? We will go slowly since you have been flat for a while. Give us a sign if you feel uncomfortable"

He pushed the button to raise her bed. Then everything went wrong, the bed had barely moved up a couple of inches. Nausea swept over her. More intense than at all the times they had moved her or had rolled her bed down to the scans.

"Stop" was all she was able to say before her stomach protested. At once she started dry heaving. For nothing was there to come up. Quickly she was lowered down again.

"Deep breaths Ziva. This is just a reaction from your body from laying down for so long. We will wait a couple of minutes before we try again. Let it sink down"

And like that, a couple of minutes later they tried again. Ziva closing her eyes before he could start the bed to lift her up a bit. Again with just a bit of movement the nausea came back. This time instead of lowering her down Michael just stopped the bed.

"Remember Ziva deep breaths. We'll try to stay like this to see if the nausea goes away. Your balancing organ just needs to get the message that everything is okay"

With the minutes passing the nausea did not go away. It just seemed to get worse. Ziva felt herself grow warm and start to sweat. When Michael saw this then he lowered her down again.

That whole process was repeated a handful of times more in the next half an hour. Sadly without any change.

"Please no more" Ziva finally said. Since the second time they'd tried to lift her she had not opened her eyes anymore.

Then finally it clicked with Miriam. Who remembered she had Ziva close her eyes on purpose quite a bit in the last couple of days.

"Ziva, did you feel dizzy or nauseated before going up?"

Nodding her head not daring to speak in fear of dry heaving again.

"All the time?" the answer now being a shake of her head.

"Ziva I know it is hard but I need you to answer me. When do you start to get dizzy?"

"When moved" were the only two words Ziva dared to speak.

"When we move you around, also when we move your bed right?" A nod confirmed it.

"I think we need to get you on some different pain medication before we try to get you up again. I think you are experiencing a side effect. I will talk with doctor Raviv to see about the change" leaving her alone with Michael.

"I believe Miriam might be right. For now we will wait until the medicine is changed. Depending on how you are feeling I will be back late in the afternoon."

After Miriam's talk with doctor Raviv it was decided to indeed change Ziva's pain medication. One that was ever so slightly less strong but with a lot less side effects. The change of the medication was not easy. The pain medicine that had made her so sick going out of her system being sure it was noticed one last time. Which caused another bout of dry heaving even though Ziva was laying flat on her back. The morning she woke up after was better, the change in medicine very noticeable.

When Michael came back that day and they repeated the whole process there was a big change. She still got dizzy and nauseas when they lifted her but not as much. The need to throw up was gone. In slow fazes she was lifted. Somewhere between laying down and upright was where they left it for today. Not wanting to overwhelm Ziva's system. Because the day had taken a lot of energy out of Ziva it was Miriam who spoon fed her the soup. Trying to get over that embarrassment was hard but was made somewhat okay at the feeling of the broth going down. The taste of the salty broth did her good, finally something ells than the ice chips she had been allowed before.

When everyone concluded she would keep it down Michael told her again how they would build up her tolerance to solid foods. If at any point she felt her body fight against the food or feel nauseas by it she needed to let them know. Before he left he wanted to lower Ziva, who stopped him, down again.

"Can you leave me up please?"

He continued with lowering her "Your body has enough to adjust to. The half hour you have been up is the max I can allow right now. Mostly because of your spine. I will message your physical therapist, noting you responded well with being as upright as you are right now. You will work on being up for longer periods of time."

"You did well today Ziva." Miriam, always being kind to her, said before both she and Michael left. Leaving Ziva alone in the room with Liat. Who had come back from the gym right when Ziva had finished her broth. They talked some. Ziva informing her of what happened when she was gone. Satisfied with a day where she finally did something it was not much later that Ziva closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.

- -

A new day had started and for the first time since Ziva landed in the hospital Liat finally thought things were taking a turn, for the better and staying that way. Where she had thought that before this was different. This was the first day that Ziva had woken up with a smile. Looking forward to eating, to starting to work with Rasha.

"Hey Ziva, Liat" Rasha greeted her happiness being infectious. "Ready to work?"

Having to only look at Ziva to see her smile in reply. "Let's first get you up a bit more. I got the note from Michael and I agree with everything getting you stable upright is important right now"

Slowly she raised the bed. Ziva was happy to note that she did not get as dizzy today and not at all nauseated. After checking if Ziva felt okay Rasha took a seat on the other side of the bed that Liat sat. "Before we start I wanted us to talk about something. I know a lot has happened in the last couple of days and that everything can be very overwhelming. That is why I want you to know that this whole process that we start today is in your hands. Everything we do here is to give you as much choice and control for when you are okayed to leave. There will be times when progress seems none existent and things will get hard. But I am here to work through that with you."

Ziva understood. She did not fully trust Rasha for that was not in her nature. As long as what Rasha said was true, that she would do anything in her power to help Ziva they would be okay.

"What helps is to set a goal for yourself. Something to work towards. Tell me, what do you want? How does life look like when you get out of here?"

For a moment Ziva did not know what her answer should be. The past days had started and ended with her mostly focusing on the here and now. More overwhelmed by the drastic change her life had taken. In the past whenever an injury had brought her to the hospital she had fought tooth and nail to get out as soon as humanly possible to be able to return to work.

She turned the question Rasha had asked her over in her head. Again and again. What did she want? Most of the things she had wanted for her life were not a possibility anymore. Or at least the things that Eli had wanted for her. Without deciding to a memory popped in her head. Tony's voice "Promise me you'll come back. Promise me we'll get a chance?". That made her think of him. For the first time since she'd woken up. The thought of him brought a lot of new questions with it. Would he still want her like this? Unable to be his partner again? Would any of them? Right now she was a world away, she could not return in the same state she had left in. Would that change anything for them? Would Gibbs still trust her as he once had? Would Abby, McGee and Ducky receive her back with open arms? Even like this?

When she asked herself that question her mind answered with memories. Memories of them all hanging out after a case had been closed, thanksgiving at Ducky's, her girls nights with Abby, all the moments shared in the last years. They had taught her what it had meant to be part of a team. A team more often than not working as family. They taught her that is was okay to show what she had kept inside when working for Mossad. It was okay to be human, to make mistakes, to cry to laugh with the people around you. It was okay to love.

The answer to all of her questions would be yes. Even this far away from them she was still a part of them, just as they were a part of her. Things would not be as they were before but they could work at a new normal. She did not need her legs to sit down for tea with Ducky and listen to his stories. She did not need to be physically strong to have fun with McGee or a girls outing with Abby. Her and Gibbs shared a bond to deep to just break because of this. And Tony. She had seen him change in the years since she met him, especially in the last year when they had really gotten close. He slowly got into her heart as more than a friend even if that was hard to admit somehow. She knew it was the same for him. The connection they shared would hold, this would not change that. Ziva would make sure to keep her promises to him.

Rasha waited patiently as Ziva seemed to be deep in thoughts. She noticed Liat start to fidget next to Ziva, probably wondering if she should step in. Years of experience had taught Rasha that often times patients had not thought about that question before she asked it to them. Would not think much further than all the medical stuff happening around them. That was why this question was important. Once they realized what they wanted they became motivated they could push through the hard parts. It was visible the moment Ziva had found her answer. A tiny smile broke out on her face and she looked straight into Rasha's eyes. With conviction she spoke, a single word but it encompassed all that Ziva wanted to accomplish.

"Home"11

Tagglist: @benedettabeby, @benditlikepress, @happygirl-0408, @tivafanfic, @loudlooks @hopeless-nostalgiac @mrsmungus @and-he-will @kmpotter4140 @litningmyway @koogamy @oceangirl24 @danceswithdarkspawn @irish-trish @residentdormouse @munstysmind @lovelyme12m @tonysziva @artemisscabin @television-overload @tiva2023vibes @tivancis @ncisfanatics@tonyandzivauk@tonylovesziva@tony-love-ziva@tonyandzivamakestiva-blog@missbuckynat@zivaninja@do-it-for-the-fandom@ztarlucy@take-it-on-the-run@stonetee@mackidockie@chenfordsrollisi@fairy-tales-of-yesterday@sweetsouldhavernas @delicatefalice

#Promises made #NCIS #Ziva David #Tony DiNozzo #Jethro Gibbs #Leroy Jethro Gibbs #Liat Tuvia #Tiva #Zony #my fanfic #hurt/comfort #ao3 #fanfic.net #abby scuito #tim mcgee

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bookofbolden · 5 months ago

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TIMING: Current LOCATION: The Generic Store PARTIES: Syd ( @felinefrenzies ) & Eleanor SUMMARY: While grocery shopping Eleanor runs into Syd who is in the middle of an intense battle with the beast within. WARNINGS: None!

Groceries. It was a necessary evil that Eleanor had had the pleasure of forgetting about while she’d lived with her sister. She simply wrote on the chalkboard door of the pantry what she needed from the store and it appeared almost like magic. Now she had to get all of her things together, including her long list, and trudge to the store herself. Not that she could really complain, she didn’t want to be in the apartment for too much longer than absolutely necessary, it had been left a mess and somehow seemed even more so after her return.

Almost immediately after she’d walked into The Generic Store the cashier gave off some mildly irritated vibes but Eleanor could understand, she wouldn’t have wanted to be at work and miss out on whatever else was going on outside of the store, either. She smiled at the worker and continued on her way to the groceries as she took out her list. Only a few other people roamed the aisles and they were all either extremely calm or just a little bit anxious as they made sure they had gotten everything they’d come for. Because of the lack of strong emotions within the vicinity, the feeling of dread and distress was as noticeable to her as if the person had announced that they were feeling it.

Eleanor looked over her shoulder and offered a kind smile in hopes of calming the stranger. “Hello, I’m not in your way, am I?”

Syd leaned against the cereal aisle, gaze fixated on the stupid off brand Tony the Tiger. Their vision blurred ever so slightly, off brand Tony dancing in the corner of their eye as they looked away, as if mocking them. From one cat to another, it sang. Syd clenched their teeth and tried to focus on the ring of their heart in their ears, of the way it sounded, a rhythmic beat to the discussion and footfalls of shoppers in and around the store. They’d been through this time and time again, and they could do it again. There were faces they knew here, and they couldn’t risk the chance of shedding their skin, of hurting the very woman who had handed them their diploma several years back.

They’d been so focused on controlling the shift, from keeping it at bay that they hadn’t noticed somebody was next to them now. Concern echoed in their voice and Syd tore their eyes away from a neighboring box of low sugar off brand Toucan– what the fuck was that bird’s name? Their company stood only a few feet away, and the warnings that fell at the back of Syd’s throat were swallowed by the anxiety of possibly creating shreds out of the person in front of them. “No,” Syd stammered, tightening their grip on the shelf. The jaguar hummed, circling them as if prey. “Sorry, I’m–” They let out a soft laugh that came out as a hiss, unfurling into something of a growl. Quickly, Syd covered it up by coughing into their arm. “I think I left the house before the flu left me.” They gave a half-assed smile, tongue moving against teeth, against cheek– anything to keep them rooted. “Did you need…” They looked at the aisle they were in again, then to off brand Tony. “This?”

Eleanor could tell that something awful brewed just below the surface but she didn’t want to call too much attention to it. Some people preferred to pretend that nothing was going on even if they were going through some of the worst moments of their life. “No need to apologize, I’m sorry that you’re not feeling well. I can bet that it must be miserable being sick in this weather. Have you been getting enough fluids? Have you tried chicken noodle soup? Whenever I haven’t been feeling my best I typically give it about a week and then if things aren’t getting better I go to the doctor.” She knew that she’d started to ramble so she stopped herself. “Not that you asked for any of my advice. I’m sorry, you're an adult, you know how to take care of yourself.” She blushed, but she had genuinely just wanted to offer some kind of help because it was obvious between the stuttering and the swirling dark cloud of emotions within them that things weren’t going well.

Although Eleanor hadn’t been in the market for the off brand cereal she nodded and took it anyhow, adding it to the small selection of items in her basket. “Sure, I appreciate it.” She looked them over one more time then turned as though she were going to leave. She’d gotten halfway down the aisle before she turned and went back, her heart unable to allow her to simply walk away. “I’m sorry, and please tell me to buzz off if I’m prying, but you don’t seem well. Is there anything I can do, someone I can call for you? You shouldn't be out if you’re feeling this terribly - what are you shopping for? I can grab it for you so you don’t have to be on your feet for too long.”

Most people would move on after being advised that the person they were speaking to had the flu, but the girl ahead of her stayed put, concern pulling over her features. Frustration flickered brightly at the center of Syd’s chest. They wanted to tell her to leave, that they didn’t need the suggestions. Because that much was true, they didn’t. They could take care of themself. The sound of the front door opening, a bell ringing– the till, the count of change, the exchanging of thank you’s, it hit Syd from every side. It was hard to ignore. On top of it all, the smiling brunette had the audacity to be kind. The longer Syd stood there, the more their irritation grew, and they felt horrible for directing it at somebody who was only trying to help. “Chicken noodle soup, no. Pozole.” Through clenched teeth, Syd continued, “you should try it sometime.” Maybe the brunette already had. It was easier to focus on the comfort of a warm meal than it was to focus on the tiles beneath their feet and how it might feel to press their face against them. They’d be cool to the touch, they were sure, and maybe it’d soothe the sweat that had begun to break out at the back of their neck.

“S’okay,” Syd coughed out again, attempting to hide a pained whimper as the jaguar tugged at the corners of their mind, as if luring them inward in order to take total and complete control. “Appreciate it all the same, actually.” It was harder to speak now than it had been previously, and that wasn’t good. They knew that. Syd moved to the side slightly as the brunette reached for the box of cereal. A blur of colors danced in the corner of their vision as they kept their eyes on the shelf’s price display. They traced each number carefully, one breath in, one breath out. She was retreating, and Syd felt some minor relief that maybe she would leave the store before the jaguar split the seams of the individual standing there. Syd hoped so. Nobody that kind should be mauled in a grocery outlet. The footfalls stopped, and Syd let out a huff, ready to explain that yes, she was sticking her nose where it didn’t belong, all for the sake of ridding a victim from a soon to be crime scene. But instead, Syd refocused, staring at the toucan on the stupid cereal box. They memorized the colors, thought of them on human skin, the thrum of the tattoo gun in their hand. Grounding techniques, that was what their father had called them. Important, to beings like them. “Call? No, nobody to call.” Their parents were in Arizona, and it wasn’t like Meredith needed to be bothered, they were only just now reconnecting. “You’re really fucking nice and all, but look, I don’t– I would have asked for your help if I needed it, alright?” Frustration plucked at Syd’s vocal cords and their voice broke slightly at the end of the sentence. Agitation burrowed itself, dragging away the kindness that Syd had been born with. “Fuck, sorry, I just– it’s so fucking loud in here, right? So fucking loud.”

There was a flash of frustration and Eleanor took another miniscule step back. Had she said something unkind, out of line? She didn’t think so, but not everyone received unsolicited advice well, perhaps that had been the other’s breaking point. She was sure that if she’d felt awful out in public and someone came along yapping about soup and doctors then surely she too would become irritated. But this was different, it had to be, it couldn’t have all been aimed at herself - the irritation, fear, anger… it was all too much to have occurred during their brief exchange of words. But still, they offered up another bit of conversation and she took it because she didn’t know what else to do in such a situation. “I have! It’s very good, one of my best friends makes it.” But her words sounded forced, scared. What could have caused such a storm within them? It wasn’t her place to get to the bottom of it, she needed to learn where to draw the line, but she also wouldn’t have forgiven herself if she were to just walk away and leave them in such a state.

Their response was exactly what Eleanor had expected so it didn’t hurt her feelings when they lashed out, she simply nodded and smiled sadly. Hadn’t she always done the same thing? Lashing out was a whole hell of a lot easier than trying to explain whatever was going on inside of her mind so no, she hadn’t been offended. But it did still worry her. “No need to apologize, I was just offering it. Whenever I see someone who might need a helping hand I offer, but you by no means have to accept it, I understand that you’re wanting your space.” She let out a breath and brought her palm to her forehead as though checking for a fever. The intensity of their emotions had started to create a headache. “Yes, it’s very loud in here, I agree. I hope that I’m not coming down with something myself.” Although the volume she was complaining about happened to be on a different wavelength, one she was sure they were unable to hear. “I’m Eleanor. I don’t think I’m supposed to give out my name freely, but I want you to know who I am just in case… you ever need anything? Whatever’s going on, flu or otherwise, it’ll all pass. I’m sure your family and friends would be more than willing to listen to anything you have to say about what might be going on, and if not then… I don’t know. I’m here, too. I’m no therapist, I don’t claim to be one, but I’m really good at listening despite my habit of always talking.” She didn’t want to leave, as much as being around them pained her, so she went further down the aisle as she had before but stopped to pretend to be very interested in the loaves of bread on the shelf.

It was at inopportune times like these that the jaguar had wanted to come out, desire to be freed from its vessel trumping any reason that Syd tried to make. The last thing they wanted to do was hurt anybody, and they knew that leaving sooner rather than later was probably their best bet at doing little to no harm. But it was hard to move– to put one foot in front of the other. They could barely focus on each and every breath that filled their lungs, a labor in its own right– defying the very spirit that lived within them, coaxing Syd to release any and all control. Their grip on the shelf tightened, and they leaned into it gently, careful to not put their full weight as they didn’t want tons of cereal boxes to come crashing down. It didn’t seem like the brunette was hurt by her words, which was a surprise in itself. Instead, it looked like she understood the aggression, tucking it away for further investigation.

Syd tried their best to focus on her words, to allow them to carry them further from the tightening in their chest. It felt odd, being talked down so gently after misplaced cruelty stained their words. “No, it’s–” Another sharp inhale, another clench of the jaw. “Ah, fuck. Hope not. Sure it’s going around town, though.” Syd wasn’t actually sick with anything, so maybe the girl– now named Eleanor, was using empathy as a means to distract them. “Don’t worry, not gonna use your name against you. I don’t even use Facebook. Plus, I’m sure there’s loads of other Eleanors in town.” It hadn’t occurred to them that there was a deeper seated meaning to her words, but it was hard to focus on that. “You talk like a therapist. Not that it’s a bad thing.” The words came out raspy, a hollowed out version of Syd’s typical cadence. “Never been to a shrink, though.” Never had to, before now. Were there such things as balam shrinks? Would they be able to tap into the jaguar and coax a level of understanding? Maybe they should look into that. “My name is Syd.” If they focused on the conversation, then maybe it would pass. They could feel the feverish warmth at the back of their neck beginning to subside, a sign that perhaps the jaguar was relenting. “You do this a lot?” Syd asked after a moment of listening to the other noises from within the store, “talk people down who have the flu in the cereal aisle, I mean.”

The comment about Facebook confused Eleanor for a moment and she wondered if they even understood what she had meant by the layered comment. Perhaps they really were sick and it wasn’t anything supernatural… that would be strange simply because it wasn’t strange. Everything that happened in this town had to be weird, right? It was the law or something. It just wasn’t feasible to Eleanor that this person was plainly sick with the common flu. She shrugged one shoulder and attempted a chuckle. “I’ve been to plenty of therapists, I know their lingo. Going to one isn’t a bad thing, it’s not admitting weakness or anything like that, sometimes you just need someone to talk to you, someone who doesn’t know a thing about you and can give everything a glance from the outside - it’s really helped me.” How they had moved from the subject of possibly catching a virus to her trying to coax them into therapy she wasn’t sure, but as long as they spoke with her the more she would continue as well. It seemed to work as a distraction, keeping them from completely toppling over.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Syd. Lovely name.” Eleanor wondered if it was short for Sydney but then decided that it was none of her business. Syd, as they had introduced themself, was all she needed to know. At their question she truly laughed. “I’m sorry, I’m not laughing at you, I'm laughing because… no, no I don’t talk people down from the flu in the cereal aisle often. But I give myself damn good pep talks in the bathroom mirror so I’m using all of my skills I’ve learned by doing that - is it working? Because if it is then I need to give myself a raise.” There was a gradual shift in the atmosphere that indicated that perhaps they had started to feel a tad bit better and Eleanor took that as a sign that she was doing well. It felt good to be the one to help someone else for a change. “What brought you out to the store with the flu, Syd? All of the DoorDashers busy?”

Syd snorted. When leaving the campsite today, they hadn’t anticipated a minor panic attack in the cereal aisle of a store they had gone to since they were a child. Syd was positive that if their parents had service, Glenn, the manager of the place, would be calling them erratically asking what had gotten into Syd. Everyone knew each other here, it seemed. Except Syd knew that Wicked’s Rest wasn’t really that small of a place– it just so happened that they were a creature of habit, frequenting the same places that their parents had.

“You should be a marketer for them.” Syd took another deep breath, gaze flashing up to the ceiling to seek out the patterns of the tiles above their heads. “Maybe I’ll look into it one day.” If balam therapists were a thing, they’d jump at the chance, no questions asked. They didn’t think they’d get that lucky. Maybe they’d have to find somebody else– a zombie therapist who understood what it was like to no longer be in control. There was a degree of separation, but Syd felt as though that was their best bet. “I’m glad it’s helped you, though. You seem to know what you’re talking about.” Eleanor’s voice was helping keep Syd’s mind off of the thrashing in their mind. It was a constant tug-o-war, keeping the jaguar at bay, silently pleading with it to give them a moment within their own body.

Then again, like Syd normally did, Eleanor could be talking out of her ass. Syd, however, was incapable of dissecting the true meaning of the other’s words. “Ah, shit. No, you’re totally laughing at me. ‘S alright, I get it. I’m sick in the cereal aisle.” Not sick, but plagued with the spirit of something they should have been able to harmonize with. Syd finally tore their gaze from the ceiling. It landed back on Eleanor and they let out a laugh of their own, however it sounded congested and strained, as if being peeled from their lungs. “You should ask for a raise, deffo.” They gave a curt nod, pushing away from the shelf slightly, grip loosening. “I can be my own DoorDasher, y’know?” Their reasoning for why they looked violently ill was slipping. Realistically, nobody should go out when they were sick. Syd looked like they didn’t care about those around them, and they didn’t like that, but it was too late to fall back on the excuse now. “Thought it was over, then it fucked me up again is all. You know, false hope.” For somebody who engaged in therapeutic discussions, surely Eleanor wouldn’t be able to argue the topic of false hope. “Hope you don’t take this the wrong way, but you deserve a gold star. Not many people’d take a look at someone hunched against a shelf and ask if they were okay.” Syd’s voice was still strained, but the cloud of agitation was dissipating.

It was Eleanor’s turn to scoff. “Perhaps if the whole writing thing doesn’t work out then I’ll definitely either become a therapist or a marketer for them. Maybe BetterHelp can sponsor my upcoming book.” She joked, glad to have gotten some amusement out of them. She shrugged and fiddled with the basket in her hands. “I just know how to sound like I know what I’m talking about. It’s a skill, really, one that I inherited from someone in the past.” One of her past foster fathers had been one of the best bullshitters she’d ever met in her life - she’d learned from him how to boost herself up in the best way possible but she only used it whenever necessary. She noticed that Syd had started to take deep breaths which was a good sign, it meant that they had at least started the process of calming down.

Eleanor bit her lip to keep from laughing again. “I swear that I’m not laughing at you but you have to admit that this kind of interaction isn’t necessarily… normal. Did you wake up planning to speak with a stranger next to colorful boxes of cereal because she refused to leave you alone while you were sick? I’m self aware enough to know that I’m a little annoying but, I don’t know, I think sometimes it pays off.” The gold star comment made another giggle rise out of her. She liked Syd, even if they did seem like they were going through a lot more than they were willing to disclose. She probably wouldn't have been comfortable laying everything out on the table, either. But she could tell from the emotions that flowed from them that a lot more was going on with them whether they’d admit it or not. “I’m a sucker for gold stars, the other kids in my class used to hate me because I’d do everything I could to get one added to my chart every day. I was that kid.” She allowed her smile to fade just a tad so that she looked more serious. “Are you sure you’re alright? I’ve asked that a million times but please, if there’s truly anything I can do let me know. Maybe I could help you out of this stupid aisle? I’m sure that tiger staring at you isn’t helping.”

“Yeah, who knows. Maybe they’ll jump at the chance.” Syd grimaced, knowing well enough that continuing to talk through things like it was all fine probably would have turned out not fine, and leaving was definitely the smarter thing to do, but Eleanor’s kindness was hard to turn down. “A book though, really? Yeah, I guess that tracks. You look like a writer.” In a way that books wrote about writers, but Syd wasn’t sure that Eleanor would take that as a compliment. Syd definitely meant it as one. Not that they read a whole lot, but still. “Oh, so you’re bullshitting me? Does therapy even really work?” They steeled themselves, knowing the joke probably didn’t hit the way they wanted it to given the fact that they were trying not to fall apart. “That was a joke.” Maybe that would help.

“I think that I plan on that every day. It’s what keeps me going.” Syd tilted their head back, letting out another breath, pushing the jaguar out from the corners of their mind. It was still circling, a constant thing, claws ripping into her psyche, but she could handle it. Could coax it into submission, at least for the time being. Without really knowing if it was the death of Callum or the abnormality that had done this to her, she had no way of fixing it, but taking deep breaths did help, and so did having somebody to talk to about it, even if it wasn’t necessarily the truth, and instead just a simple distraction or two. As Eleanor went on to explain that she gained the most gold stars out of any other kid in her grade, Syd nodded. “Yeah, that also fucking tracks. You look like one of those kids who’d put it in a whole ass sticker book or something. It’s probably in a box somewhere, right?” Eleanor was making it easy to make fun of her, and Syd felt a little bad. “That was another joke, by the way, even if it’s kind of true?” They leaned away from the shelf finally, realigning their gaze with Eleanor’s, no longer tracing out the patterns of the ceiling. “The flu is a bitch, what can I say?” Syd wore a lopsided smile that looked more like a grimace, so she tried a little harder, pushing it to reach her eyes. “The tiger can’t do shit to me, but uh, I really– seriously, thanks for hanging out while I go through the ten stages of what the fuck is happening.”

Although some might not have taken it as a compliment Eleanor was thrilled to hear that she “looked like a writer”. She had always been able to point out an author in any crowd simply by the way they dressed and handled themself and she wanted to give herself a pat on the back for being able to emulate such a presence. “I’ve spent years trying to perfect my wardrobe and even my hair - I think the new bangs are what really ties the whole look together. It’s even more evident whenever I wear my glasses - I see that as a compliment whenever someone is able to guess that I write for a living. What do you do, if I may ask?” She wanted to continue the conversation because it seemed that she and Syd had finally gotten to a place of friendliness. “Oh, it definitely works, I can assure you of that. I would be absolutely falling apart at the seams if not for my therapist. But I know a joke when I hear it.” She winked at them.

“Well in that case I need to start planning very strange and specific things to do in my day. This has been nice, getting to meet a lovely new person.” Eleanor liked Syd a lot and she hoped that maybe if they were to run into one another at a different time that it would be under better circumstances. She blushed but nodded to answer the other’s question. “Actually… I believe it’s in a box in my parents’ home. My mother is very sentimental about things like that. She wants to bring out all of my book reports and essays anytime someone speaks about my books - she wants the world to know how young I began writing but I find it a bit embarrassing.” She subconsciously mimicked Syd and took a deep breath, happy to see them finally standing up straight and making eye contact. “Talking is what I do best! I’m always happy whenever someone’s around who I can yap to so thank you for making my day better. I’m sorry that we couldn’t have met under better circumstances, maybe we’ll run into one another soon enough and we can have an actual conversation. I promise that I won’t completely talk your ear off, I’ll listen to any and everything you have to say since you’ve allowed me to get carried away this time.”

Syd couldn’t help but let out a chuckle as Eleanor went on to explain that she purposely dressed as a writer, hoping others would deduce as such. Yeah, maybe that was important– being proud of whatever you did. When Syd worked at the tattoo shop, it’d been a lot more obvious what they did for a living, but now that that was behind them, nobody ever really pointed at them and said campsite manager. Not unless they knew them from before, at least. “I run the three pines with my parents.” This time, as they spoke, it wasn’t said through gritted teeth. That was good, at least– a change in direction, a chance that the jaguar was beginning to settle down. They let out another chuckle, this time more strained, as Eleanor reassured them that therapy did in fact work. “Alright, you’ve got me. You therapized me here, I’m a believer now.” Not quite, but on the fringes of it. Eleanor had in fact helped them calm down considerably.

Lovely was a stretch, but Syd made no move to correct her. Maybe in another life, they would’ve been lovely to meet, all toothy grins and an arm wrapped around her shoulder as they showed her to the seat where she’d get her first tattoo, because they definitely wouldn’t have met in the cereal aisle where Syd was having a meltdown. No way. That was definitely not the way Syd liked to meet people, nor the way they liked to leave a lasting impression. “Of fucking course you do.” This time it was a snort instead of a chuckle. “Cute, though. Sounds like a good mom.” Their mom was the same. Even if the first time they’d come home with a tattoo, they’d nearly been disowned. Over time, they accepted that the art Syd created wasn’t meant for a sketchbook, and rather for their skin, and that of their peers. “I feel like that should be the case, though. Pretty fucking important, to be proud of something like that. Not everyone just writes a book.” That wasn’t necessarily true, so Syd amended, “or is good at it.” They didn’t know if Eleanor’s books were good or not, but they made a mental note to at least find it on audio book. “Nah, you’re– you did more than enough.” Eleanor didn’t need to stop at all, and Syd was grateful she did, even if annoyance had transcended that feeling entirely during their first moments. “But uh, I’m good– flu is hitting the road or whatever.”

The jaguar was still antagonistic, and it’d be good to go home and avoid any more uphill battles. “Not every day somebody stops and talks to somebody who’s bitching at them for being too loud.” Not that Syd had been yelling at Eleanor specifically, but it could’ve come across as that. “I appreciate you though, for real. Uh, keep… being a therapist to people in the streets. Or don’t, maybe not– maybe a bad idea.” Especially here. “Maybe only do it in public places?” They let out another short laugh.

Laughter was a good sign and Eleanor once again gave herself a pat on the back for the progress Syd had made. She hadn’t been entirely sure that any of her efforts would affect them at all so to see such a change made her happy. “That sounds wonderful, I’m guessing you’re outside a lot? That’s the perfect time to just let loose and take a couple deep breaths in case you’re ever needing to calm yourself. It worked for me although I’m sure my neighbors believed me to be completely off my rocker after that time I went out into the rain to do some deep breathing. It couldn’t wait, I needed to do it then and there.” She wasn’t sure if Syd meant what they said about her convincing them that therapy worked, but since she’d accomplished her goal of calming them down that was all that mattered to her. “Good. I’m glad that I could be of assistance.”

Syd’s words encouraged Eleanor. She knew what a difficult road it was to write books, much less books that were welcomed with open arms by the public and did well, so it was nice to have some recognition. “I’m obviously not the best but my books do well enough for me to live off of what I make from them, that’s a huge deal in the writing community. I don’t like to sound like I’m bragging though, no one likes someone who talks about themself during the entire conversation, so back to you: I’m glad that you’re feeling better. I’m sure the flu probably just got annoyed with me and decided to abandon ship. It was my pleasure being able to be your makeshift therapist for a little while, but I certainly don’t think that I’ll be doing it too often. I got lucky running into someone who didn’t try to fight me or something because I was only trying to help. I hope you have a lovely rest of your day, you should definitely go home and rest so that you don't get sick again.” She shifted awkwardly onto the balls of her feet because she was unsure how to end the conversation. “Goodbye Syd, hopefully we’ll run into each other again when you’re feeling better.” She offered them one last smile then finally turned and actually continued on down the aisle to continue her shopping.

#wickedswriting #writing: emotional cleanup on aisle five #writing: felinefrenzies #//ci i'm always blown away by your writing #//thank you so much for doing this with me!

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parkerpenny · 1 year ago

Text

been far away (for far too long)

Summary: "Dust filled her lungs, and Penny desperately fought the urge to put her hands over her ears to block out the noise that surrounded her. 5 years. That's what Doctor Strange had said as he guided her through a portal and towards the compound - well, what used to be the compound.

No matter how scrambled her brain was by her surroundings, there was one thought screaming at her in the front of her mind.

Find Mr. Stark."

Or: A brief look into my take on Tony and Penny's reunion on the battlefield.

Word Count: 1.2k

Relationship: Penny Parker & Tony Stark

Title From: Far Away - Nickelback

Read on AO3

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Dust filled her lungs, and Penny desperately fought the urge to put her hands over her ears to block out the noise that surrounded her. 5 years. That's what Doctor Strange had said as he guided her through a portal and towards the compound - well, what used to be the compound.

Penny couldn't really comprehend what was happening around her. There was fire, fighting, screaming, and it was so loud. She didn't know what to do with herself, so she did the only thing she knew how to do - swing in to battle. There were aliens, just like last time, on Titan. This time, it seems as though they were multiplied by a thousand. It seemed never-ending. No matter how scrambled her brain was by her surroundings, there was one thought screaming at her in the front of her mind.

FIND MR. STARK!

She whipped her head around, searching frantically for the red and gold armour. Her heart pounded in her chest and she could feel her blood rushing in her ears. What if he's hurt? What if he never made it? What if something had happened to him? Penny tried to stop that train of thought before she sent herself into a spiral. That's the last thing she needed right now. He had to be alive, surely the wizard would've told her if anything had happened to him.

She fired web after web at the aliens, almost as an afterthought. She continued her search until she heard the familiar whirring of repulsors. She could've cried at the relief that filled her. She felt safer in an instant, knowing that Mr. Stark was close by. Penny scaled a pile of rubble, hoping to get a glance of the man. Her face fell and she felt her blood run cold in panic as one of the aliens aimed a weapon at him from behind. He wouldn't see it in time. Penny didn't hesitate to swing down, webbing up the enemy swiftly and making sure that the threat had been neutralized.

Finally letting herself breathe, she ran down towards where Mr. Stark lay on the ground, having been knocked down by the alien. The girl grabbed him by the hand, pulling him up onto his feet. She rambled for a moment about how she ended up back here, a habit of hers when she gets excited. Penny took her first real look at the man, noticing with a pang in her chest that the man did in fact look older. It really had been 5 years. He looked the same, but with a few more lines on his face and a bit more salt than pepper in his greying hair.

Just as she took a breath to continue her tangent, Tony took a sudden step forward and pulled the young girl into his arms. Penny didn't realise just how loud everything was until the world went quiet. Safe and wrapped in her father-figure's embrace, she felt like she could finally take a breath, her first in what felt like ages. She didn't comment on his trembling hands or the teardrops she felt hit the top of her head.

Tony held the girl by her shoulders, pulling back to look at her. Penny couldn't begin to decipher the emotions running across his expression in that moment. He says nothing for a moment, an uncharacteristic silence for the man of a million words. His eyes, however, spoke volumes. She could tell there was so much he wanted to say, she wondered what words he would decide upon. She was confident that no matter what, they would be the right words. He always seemed to know the right words.

"I love you, Penny."

That wasn't quite what she was expecting, but did it ever warm her heart. She opens her mouth to reply, but Tony cuts her off, seemingly desperate to get all those words out at once. "I... I never told you that while you were here. I spent five years knowing that I held my kid in my arms while she turned to dust and I never even told her how much I love her. You didn't even know. And -"

It was Penny's turn to cut him off, not with words but with a hug. She held him tight, whispering softly. "I knew. I did." She drew away to look up at him. "I love you too, Mr. Stark."

Tony had tears in his eyes. Penny just smiled, her own tears tracing their way down her face. "God, kid. You... You have no idea how much I missed you. Every day, Penny. Every single day I thought about you. There's so much to tell you, I -"

Tony is cut off once again by a yell, and the sounds of the battle raging on around them comes back into focus. The two share a look, unspoken words between them. There will be hours and hours of conversations, there will be tears, laughter, fear, love. For now, there is a fight to win. Both of them smirking at each other and shrugging, Tony brings Penny in for one more tight hug, holding the back of her head gently, as if she might fade away. He kissed the top of her head, and lets go of her with a squeeze. "Duty calls, Mr. Stark." Penny says, a glint of excitement in her eyes. Tony breathes out a chuckle, looking at Penny like she hung the stars in the night sky. "Just like old times, hey kid?"

Preparing to dive head first back into battle, Penny pulls her mask down over her face. She shoots a little salute at Tony before swinging away to see where she could help. Tony sighs, allowing himself a moment of grace in the chaos around him. He had her back. It really worked. He had his kid back in his arms. He had so much to tell her. He was different now. He wouldn't blame the tears in his eyes on the dust in the air, he would blame them on the relief that came with seeing your child alive and well after watching them die.

He would make sure she knew how much he loved her, that she would never question her place in his life, as a part of his family. He would bring her to his lakehouse. He hoped she would like the room he had designed for her when they built the place. It may have made Pepper question his mental stability a bit at the time, but hell, she loved Penny like she was her own too. He would introduce Penny to Morgan. God, they would get on like a house on fire. He'd be grey in a couple weeks with the amount of worrying he'll do over his two daughters. He knew Morgan would grow up to be the best of all of them with Penny as her role model.

There was so much to say, so much to catch up on. For now, there was a battle to fight.

A battle he had one more reason to win.

#irondad fic #peter parker #tony stark #fem! peter parker #irondad #marvel #mcu #spiderman #female peter parker #fanfiction #irondad spiderson #penny parker #penny parker fic #hurt/comfort #endgame fix it #irondad hurt/comfort

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bbotan · 1 year ago

Note

Headcanon/Ramble ask

Anything about the Swans/Fans I am begging /hj

it took me long enough to get to this .. my sincerest apologies waa

okay ! as reimbursement i will write for all of them , thank you for asking~

The fans headcanons !

starting off with ...

Alex and Ash

Alex and Ash are probably some of the closest siblings you'll ever meet, but that doesn't mean they don't have their fair share of sibling rivalry. They're twins, but Ash is more of a little brother to Alex and loves to torment him with that sort of dynamic [with love!!!]

Ash is sort of a fuckboy type of guy and posts thirst traps on social media but never really gets any kind of engagement on his posts, Alex will humiliate him by asking him in front of the rest of the fans if his latest post got any women in his DMs yet.

Alex also has her drivers license, but Ash doesn't [he's tried so many times and failed …], so she has to put up with him begging her to stop at McDonald's on the way home or to their next mission. If she feels like lovingly bullying Ash that day, she'll just order a coffee for herself and nothing for her brother.

But the worst [and most fatal] mistake you can make is hurting either one of them. Ash is very protective of his sister as Alex is of him, as much as they like being dicks to one another, they're really each others best friends in the whole wide world. Alex was catcalled once and Ash responded by beating the absolute shit out of the guy until he was an unrecognizable pulp. They also got Ash's burger king order wrong once so Alex yelled at the cashiers for him [EQUALITY]

Corey

Though she has the potential to be a pretty vicious killer, Corey is quiet most of the time and doesn't speak unless she's prompted to or she just really to get a word or two in. She'll go along quietly with the rest of the gang's plans, but that doesn't mean she's submissive or anything, she's actually quite capable of standing up for herself when the time comes.

Corey has heavy anxiety and depression that she keeps hidden because she doesn't want to be worried about, the fans were her first real group of friends which keeps her contemplating if she really wanted to be part of this or not.

She wishes she could get closer to Alex, mostly because she's the only other girl in the group and she admires the swan for being much more courageous than Corey could ever see herself being. Corey wishes she could become better friends with the rest of the fans in general.

She's a lone drinker rather than a typically social one, she'll tag along if asked specifically but outside of that she feels too embarrassed and self conscious to be seen in a vulnerable state like that.

Tony

Tony grew up in a military family and was taught in his youth that as a man, he shouldn't show his emotions at all unless it was anger or bravery. Without someone to properly support him, he ended up projecting his emotions onto everyone and tends to be quite stubborn in what he believes in. Everything has to be traditional. He has to be strong. If he doesn't die for his country than what more is he than a cowardly bastard?

He spent his childhood living on a military base so he was always quite isolated and never was able to make real friends if it weren't in things like football or other "masculine" activities. Ironically though, he was always really shy about talking to the girls he liked.

Beneath that hard, confident shell lies an emotional and caring man, but he doesn't feel like he has the means to truly express just how much he appreciates his friends.

He likes Corey but doesn't know how to approach her without scaring her off... So he just watches from a distance and hopes in silence that one day he'll get the confidence to talk to her.

Mark

Mark is one of the coolest people you could ever meet, if you ignore the obvious fact that he kills people. He's also a very non-judgmental person, so you can talk to him about almost anything without feeling like he's criticizing you secretly.

He's definitely the father/big brother figure of the group so a lot of the fans, even Corey at times, will go to him for advice. If he sees two of his friends fighting he'll peacefully break it up as well if he thinks it's possible, if not then he'll just mind his own business.

He smokes a lot of weed with Alex after missions, he tried [and failed] to get the others into it as a nice way to relax after committing mass murder but nobody else really accepts. Ash will tag along though occasionally.

thank you so much for the ask !! if anyone is interested , my inbox is still open for requests and i appreciate anything i get :]

#hotline miami #hotline miami 2 #hotline miami headcanons #hotline miami tony #hotline miami corey #alex hotline miami #corey hotline miami #the fans #mark hotline miami #headcanons

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randomfandomlov3 · 1 year ago

Text

Price of love (Chapter 6)

Warnings: Carelessness. Talk of injury, and sacrifice. Swearing. Let me know if I missed any.

Note: I have always found emotion words that cannot be perfectly translated into English to be fascinating. Thank you for reading! <3

Word Count~ 2628

It had been 3 weeks since you left, and the air in the tower was tense. You brightened up every room that you walked into. Without you, Tony was more sleep-deprived, Wanda was more overwhelmed, Steve felt annoyed by everything, and Bucky was his usual grumpy self according to Sam. You were strolling through the streets of a small town in Europe when your phone went off.

“I know you said that you needed to take this vacation to find yourself, but I’ll be honest with you, the Avengers have been falling apart since you left. They are getting uncharacteristically sloppy out in the field; in fact, I have had to suspend most of them from missions right now. The only one whose behaviour hasn’t changed much is Barnes, so he is still allowed certain solo missions.” Fury rambled as soon as you answered your phone. “Barnes will be out on a mission for a week but if you could even just briefly come back and kick their butts for me, I would appreciate it.” You waited for him to stop talking so that you could actually have a moment to speak.

“You know the locals of all these towns I have visited have helped me find myself and deal with my struggles, so yeah, I can come back for a little bit. I cannot promise I won’t have to leave again but, at least to get them back in gear.” You said feeling grateful for all the locals, and the languages that you learned pieces of. They had much easier ways to describe how you were feeling. You exchanged goodbyes before you started to pack up and book a flight back. The entire way back you thought about what those past three weeks had meant to you and your journey. Their medical experts were also amazing at helping with pain management for your shoulder.

After meeting with Fury to understand what has been going on with the team, you headed to the tower. Taking a deep breath, you exited the elevator to get to the common room. A frown graced your face when you heard the yelling. It sounded like Steve and Tony were at each other’s throats for some reason. You rolled your eyes and put on your best smile, to prepare yourself for the battleground that you were about to walk into.

Nat looked annoyed at the men who had their backs to you. But then she spotted you and she could not conceal her gasp. “You’re back? Why didn’t you tell us you were coming back?” Nat jumped up to give you a big hug. That stopped the fighting going on as they turned to look at you. Everybody rushed over to get a hug.

“I’m actually back because Fury asked me to. He told me that you guys are getting sloppy and have been suspended from missions for the foreseeable future. Come on guys I know you are better than this. Tony, there’s a reason I got you that coffee pot that also acts as an alarm, so you have your coffee, but you also go to bed on time. The things in your baskets were chosen carefully for each of you. So that you guys would be fine while I was away, but that’s fine, I have some time, that I can stay and build a routine with. But I don’t yet know how long I will be staying, so please take every lesson seriously.” You plopped down onto the couch as you finished your spiel. The disappointment on everyone’s faces made your heart ache, and you wondered if you would be able to leave them again.

His muscles ached as he got off of the jet and started to head toward his room. He was planning to stop in the common area to let everyone know that he was back before he went to shower. As Bucky approached the common room, he heard a laugh he hasn’t heard in a long time. It sent pain and guilt straight to his heart. The one thing he had been trying to hide since you left. Needing to confirm his suspicion he stepped quietly into the room, but his sneakiness was destroyed when Steve spotted him.

“Buck look who’s back!” You glanced back at him with a soft smile on your face. All your feelings were still there but you could now label them and understand them better.

“Did your mission go alright?” You asked trying to get a clue if he got hurt. The look on his face looked like he was in pain, and you were not sure if you would rather it had been from the mission, or from seeing you.

He gave a shaky nod before glancing around the room. “When did you get back?” He tried to ask with as much nonchalance as he could.

“Don’t worry, I won’t be staying here too long, in the blink of an eye I will be out of your way again. Just here on request of Fury to get the team back in gear.” The smile on your face faltered ever so slightly.

His surprised look faded to what Sam would describe as his usual grumpy face. You then headed to your room to grab something you had gotten Bucky as a final gift and souvenir. It was the one thing you remember him and Steve talking about all the time. Some of his things including his dress uniform from the Smithsonian. Just as you were about to head out with the box in your arms a knock sounded at your door. You set the box back down to deal with whoever was at your door. With the biggest smile you could, you opened the door, but you faltered when you saw Bucky Barnes nervously standing on the other side.

“Look I want to apologize for the way I have treated you.” He stared at his feet while he talked, but the scent of blood distracted you.

“You're bleeding!” You carefully pulled him into your bathroom and sat him on the edge of the tub. His eyes traced every worried line on your face, and he longed to wipe them away, but he knew it was not his place.

“You really don’t have to do this; the serum will have me fixed right away.” He brushed off your attempt. He knew that you must just feel obligated to help him because Fury brought you back to help the team, so he must have noticed Bucky getting more careless with his life in the field. When the concern didn’t leave your face, in fact, it worsened when you go to pull his suit off his arms to get to the wound and he winced, he felt slightly guilty.

“If he ignores wounds when they are actively bleeding, how many missions has he nearly died in, and I haven’t been here to help him, for my own selfish reasons.” You thought to yourself as you exposed the wound and went to grab the first aid kit from under the sink. You walked him through everything that you were doing, trying to keep your voice level.

His head spun at the care you showed for him. “Can I ask you a question, Doll?” You paused briefly to look into his eyes with a nod. “Why did you write so much else to the others, but you just wrote that you were sorry on mine? And a follow-up question, what were you apologizing for?”

You had to swallow the lump that formed in your throat when you thought about the conversation you needed to have. “Well, umm…” Tears tried to fight their way into your eyes.

Bucky noticed how hard you were fighting to keep yourself together. He wanted to tell you to forget his stupid question, but he needed answers that have plagued his nights for the past month.

“I knew I had to have upset you, and I wanted to apologize for it. You avoided me for the few days before I left, and you specifically requested that I not be the one to administer your shot. So if you couldn’t even trust me anymore to be professional around you, I knew I must have fucked up badly. So as I wrote, I’m sorry.” You continued to work, and you hoped that he didn’t still feel uncomfortable with you helping him. Staring at the floor, you waited for him to respond.

“Doll, you didn’t upset me. I just know that you deserve someone who isn’t going to get you shot on missions.” Bucky averted his eyes from your face when you looked up in surprise. “I figured by giving you space, maybe you would forget about me and move on. I didn’t want to hurt you and because of me you were shot.”

You gently finished patching up his injury before sitting on the floor. “All it did was make me feel mágoa, and according to some locals of one of the places I visited, I had most likely gone through onsra. When I stopped in Portugal, I learned that one of the things I was feeling would be called Saudade.”

Bucky looked up at you with a blank expression. “Look, Doll, I am really sorry. But I understood none of the words you just said.” The slight laugh that left you had him feeling even more confused.

You looked down at your hands in your lap. “They are emotion words that don’t translate perfectly to English. Mágoa is a heart-breaking feeling, usually by being hurt by someone, that leaves long-lasting traces, visible in gestures and facial expressions. Onsra the bittersweet feeling of loving for the last time or realizing your love won’t last. And saudade is a somewhat melancholic feeling of incompleteness; longing for something that might never return. I also learned that increasing your emotional dictionary, allows you to be able to process those emotions better. Sorry, you probably don’t want to hear about all that.” You had a tendency to start rambling about things that you found interesting.

He reached a hand down to lift your chin, so you would look him in the eyes, and his thumb brushed away a stray tear. “Doll don’t apologize. I love to hear you talk especially about things that fascinate you. I am truly sorry that I made you feel all that, but at least you are alive.” Bucky removed his hand from your face, not wanting to set back the progress you had made.

“I need you to be honest with me.” You said with as much conviction as you could muster. The nod he gave you made you hope he would be. “Do you have feelings for me?”

“Doll, that doesn't matter, I am going to get you hurt.” His vague answer made your heart flutter in both a good and bad way.

“I need you to tell me the truth, then maybe you can understand why I did what I did. And why I would do it again in a heartbeat.” You gave him a warning look.

“Fine, yes, I do, and I have since you were going around the therapy office, asking if anyone needed anything.” The blush that covered his face, made you smile, and it gave you a glimmer of hope. You took his hand and lead him out of the bathroom. He followed behind you very confused.

“I protect the people that I care about, and even if you didn’t want me to, you are one of the people I care about the deepest. The reason why I was close enough to be able to protect you, is I had a feeling that the fear training wouldn’t work in the same way for you because, besides Steve, you had already lost everything that mattered. Hydra had even made you sometimes be the one to do it. Fear is something that you know too well, but you also have associated it with pain.” You explained everything that you had read about him and the exceptions to the fear training. His hand was trembling in his lap as he tried to stop it with the vibranium hand. Gently placing yours on top, you got his attention. “Can I ask you a question?”

He nodded trying to analyze the look in your eyes. The words he tried to say got caught in his throat at the thought of what you might ask him. His focus returned to you when he felt your thumb stroke over his hand.

“If one of your teammates, or agents on the mission, were in a situation where you could intervene and get shot and survive, or they would die, what would you pick?” You asked as gently as you could.

“I would get shot in a heartbeat. Especially if it was you, doll.” He responded quietly with a blush. You started to blush too. Maybe he was finally understanding why you did it. “But also I am a super soldier, it doesn’t take me long to heal.” You rolled your eyes. Or maybe he didn’t understand.

“That doesn’t matter. What matters is that you would save someone’s life, even if it meant getting hurt. For you Bucky, honestly, you would be worth dying for. Not that I am planning on it, but if it ever happened, that would be the best way to go.” The sigh that left your lips caused Bucky to look up at your face again. He saw peace, but also some turmoil. “Anyway, umm, I had actually come to my room to get the gift I was going to give you. I wasn’t able to prepare it before I left, so I hope you like it.”

You got up and crossed the room to the box on your chair. It was an awkward size to carry so you were thankful you didn’t have to go far.

As you placed the box in his lap, he looked very confused. He wondered what he had done to deserve, something like this because it couldn’t have been something small and easy.

“Open it,” you prompted gently when he continued to stare at you.

He started to open the present with the utmost care. His breath hitched when he saw what was inside. “Doll, h-how did you get these? Steve said that he had been wrestling with them for a while, but they didn’t want to give them up.” You smirked causing him to worry that you had stolen them.

“No, I didn’t steal them. I may have given them some replicas from other veterans whose families didn’t see the value in them and explained that no museum-goer would be able to tell the difference. I apparently can be very persuasive when I want to be. They handed your things over without a fuss.” He looked up at you with glassy eyes, before he set the box down and pulled you into the tightest hug, he could without hurting either of you.

“Doll, thank you so much.” Bucky started to profusely thank you when there was a knock on the open door.

“Buck? I take it the apology went well.” Steve smiled briefly forgetting why he was there. When you both just stared at him, he realized that he came there for a reason. “Oh right, I just got a call from the Smithsonian, they have my things for me, I was wondering if you wanted to come with me. Maybe we can get your stuff back after all.” Bucky grinned pulling away from the hug.

“I already got my things, but I would love to come with to thank them,” Bucky mentioned giving your hand one last squeeze before leaving the room with Steve.

Chapter 7

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