#would definitely explain why the maximoffs are barely in the series

[paintsplash1712]

So apparently the reason why so many episodes of What If are so... meh is because the marvel executives.

Apparently the writers had much more interesting or cooler ideas but the executives blocked them from using them because they might use those ideas in future movies or shows.

What were those ideas, Marvel? GIVE ME A LIST!

[whereianonymouslypostfics]

Reunion 

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x reader

Word count: ~4.3k

Summary: You and Wanda attend your high school reunion.

A/N: This was fun to write. Wanda gets kinda mad. It’s so cute. Part one of the  jealous Wanda series. 

Warnings: jealousy😈, thoughts of violence, fluff

Going to your 15-year high school reunion sounded unappealing anyway you thought about it. You hadn’t really liked high school because of how stressful it was, and how mean people could be. You didn’t remember it fondly and when the phone call came one day, and the emailed invitation the next, Wanda found you in the kitchen scowling at your computer.

After a long discussion, Wanda had convinced you to at least give it a shot. She’d promised to take time off to go with you, and given that it was almost all the way across the country, it would be a three-day trip. The appeal of spending time away with your wife was much higher than that of going to your high school reunion, but you decided to worry about this later. You’d left Boone with Yelena, and Fletcher would get a couple of visits a day from Steve while you were gone, so they would barely miss your absence.

Right now, as you sit beside Wanda as she drives you through an unfamiliar part of the airport, you’re very confused. You look to your wife who takes off her sunglasses with a sigh before turning down a road that leads dangerously close to the runways.

“Uh, Wands.”

You’re supposed to catch your flight soon, but Wanda had driven you both somewhere that doesn’t seem anywhere close to the terminal. She smiles at you before realizing that you look a little worried, but she doesn’t have to wonder about it long as you voice your concerns hesitantly.

“Why are we here? Don’t we have to catch our flight soon?”

Wanda simply smiles at you as she turns down one last road and pulls into a small garage. You’re too focused on the plane that you drive by and you’re staring at it with an impressed look as Wanda explains what’s happening. You’d told her about your reservations about this trip, and she’d wanted to make everything as stress free as possible for you both. For this reason, she’d dealt with organizing your travel and your hotel room. You were just along for the ride until the reunion.

“We’re here, detka. This is our ride.”

Your head whips back around toward your wife as your jaw drops in bewilderment. You must have heard her wrong because Wanda definitely wasn’t saying what you thought she was. You followed her lead and got out of the car before peeking out of the garage at the damn jet that was not twenty feet from you.

“I’m sorry, what?”

Wanda smirks as she opens the trunk and grabs your bags before handing you your backpack with a smile. She reaches out to push your chin up to close your still gaping mouth, and she can’t help but chuckle under her breath.

“This is one of my planes.”

Wanda walks toward the jet where you now see someone is coming out to meet her. He looks like a pilot, but you can’t even comprehend this right now as you chase after your wife. You had so many questions, but the first one that you asked was arguably the most relevant.

“What do you mean you have a jet?”

Wanda smiles before she grabs your hand so you can meet the pilot and then the small three-person crew that will be with you on this flight. They offer to take your luggage, and you’re too stunned to protest as you follow Wanda up the stairs into the plane you’ll apparently be taking to Miami.

“It’s not just mine, or ours rather, but I made sure we could use it so we can enjoy the trip.”

Wanda leaves out the little detail of her not being able to fly commercially like you. She’s a known criminal and she’s pretty sure that if she stepped into the airport with the intent to ride on a passenger plane, they’d refuse if not arrest her for simply trying. Seeing your wide eyes and the awe in your expression, she realizes that this was a good choice. She doesn’t think you’ll mind this surprise as you take in the small yet somehow spacious interior that looks more comfortable than anything you’ve ever sat on.

“Oh my God.”

There are sets of four seats that are divided into two groups on each side of the plane. The leather recliners are paired with tables that have drinks already set up. There are also two televisions on each side with charging stations beneath, and you can’t stop yourself from sitting down in the nearest chair. You turn to your wife with a stunned expression that you’ll probably wear for the entire trip.

“This is amazing, Wanda. Were you ever going to tell me about this?”

Wanda just shrugs as she takes off her coat and sits down beside you with a smile. She just wanted you to enjoy your weekend, and as she says this you can’t help but kiss her. She’s so sweet and you can’t wait to go on this trip with her. It’s been too long since you’ve had quality time alone and although reuniting with the high school mean girls wasn’t something you were excited about; you at least were going to enjoy the ride.

The 4-hour flight seems to fly by and when you and Wanda leave the plane you almost wish it had been longer. You and Wanda arrive to the hotel that she’d booked and you are once again surprised by Wanda’s choice. It’s very reminiscent of the one you two stayed in during your honeymoon, and you’re already recalling how much fun that was as you and your wife step into the elevator.

“So? How’s the trip so far?”

Your wide smile is enough of an answer for Wanda, but she doesn’t complain about you offering a verbal response as well. You are the only ones in the elevator so you don’t resist the urge to kiss your wife appreciatively. You sneak a hand in her hair, careful not to knock off her sunglasses on her head as you deepen the kiss with a sigh.

“It’s perfect, Wands. Thank you for this.”

Wanda’s hands squeeze your hips before she buries her face in your hair. She turns so she can kiss your neck before leading you off the elevator as soon as you reach your floor. The top floor.

“Of course, detka. I want you to enjoy this weekend, and not stress about the mean girls. I promise I’ll beat them up if they look at you wrong.”

You laugh as you follow Wanda into your room that resembles the rest of the hotel in its extravagance. You see your bags in the room already so you just hurry over to the king size bed and fall face first on it with a sigh. This weekend is proving to be unpredictable, but luckily, it’s in a good way so far. Hopefully this will continue to be the case as the reunion rolls around, but you have no real way of knowing.

Wanda comes to lie down beside you, and you adjust so you’re more comfortable and able to put an arm around her. You know that regardless of what happens tomorrow, you’ll have Wanda by your side and you couldn’t be more grateful for this. You appreciated your wife’s support and despite the fact that you would not let her beat up anyone for you, it was nice to hear that she would be in your corner. You hadn’t seen any of these people in nearly 15 years and you were nervous to say the least.

You hadn’t been popular in high school, but despite keeping to yourself you knew that you’d be recognized. You had no idea how people would remember you but you hadn’t been out of the closet then yet, so maybe some of them would be surprised to learn Wanda was your wife. You weren’t ashamed of anything, but you’d rather talk about how much you loved being a vet and maybe see some people’s puppy pictures. However, you were going to take what you could get, and not worry too much about it. You’d prefer anything to having to talk about Wanda’s less than legal career because that could definitely get dicey.

“Thank you, Wands.”

The rest of the day is mostly spent in bed ordering ridiculously expensive room service. You didn’t want to go out much before the reunion and Wanda understood. You were anxious and you’d rather just hang out, and luckily for her you were in the mood for sitcoms and cuddling. Her two favorite things. It wasn’t until you fell asleep that night that Wanda considered how tomorrow would go for you two.

She wasn’t too worried about being recognized because anyone that knew her there would have a secret of their own to keep. She supposed she was mostly wondering how meeting your former classmates would go. You’d never told her much about your time in high school, but from what she’d gathered you were more studious than social. You mentioned friends occasionally, but you didn’t really keep in touch with them anymore. You only talked to vet school friends every now and then, but never high school.

She wonders if you really wanted to go to this or if you felt guilted into it. Wanda sighs as she lies down next to you to finally go to sleep. It’s nearly midnight and she’s just been watching you sleep for the past hour. She supposes she should try to get some rest. Tomorrow will surely be exhausting with how much you’re going to have to socialize.

This is what you’re thinking about as you and Wanda arrive at the venue where the reunion is being held. You try not to cringe as you see the large banner that says ‘Welcome back class’. You’re regretting your decision to come here, but you choose to focus on the food you’ll hopefully get to eat and your beautiful wife that’s accompanying you. She’s wearing a dress that should make you jealous, but instead you’re proud to show her off to your former classmates. The dress isn’t overly revealing, but the black accentuates her assets and is complemented well with her bright red hair.

“Are you ready for this, my love?”

Wanda smiles as she takes your hand and leads you into the building. You come up on a table quickly and see it’s full of sticker name tags that you’re going to have to stick to your shirt. You smile at the unfamiliar woman sitting behind it. She’s blonde and you definitely could buy that she used to be a cheerleader, but you can’t be sure. You’re certainly not going to ask.

“Hi there, welcome! Let me try and guess?”

You don’t get to respond and you just watch as the blonde looks at the names in front of her curiously. You are actually surprised when she guesses right and you accept it with a small smile before Wanda’s handed a blank tag to fill out with her name.

“I remember you, Y/n. You dated my friend!”

You’re a little confused by this and when Wanda stops in the middle of writing her name you realize she is too. You don’t get to ask ‘Hannah’ for clarification before two other couples come in behind you and force you to move on. You just shake your head as you hold Wanda’s hand and whisper under your breath.

“I have no idea who she was talking about.”

Wanda just laughs at this as she follows you through the hall to the ballroom. The sound of a room full of people chatting makes you tense a little, but Wanda squeezes your hand and offers you a reassuring smile. You take a deep breath before kissing her cheek and leading her the rest of the way to the open doors.

“Let’s do this.”

You were optimistic to say the least about how this day was going to go. You’d believed that it would be fine and you could just mingle with your old friends and try to kill time. This had worked out for the first half hour, but then the group you’d been talking to decide to venture off to talk to others. You’re fine with this and after bidding them goodbye you look to Wanda with a smile.

This was all a little anticlimactic if you were being honest. Given who you were, you’d feared that something dramatic and uncomfortable would happen to you. However, you and Wanda had chatted and actually had a decent time catching up with your old acquaintances. You’d introduced your wife and told everyone that she was in sales. Something boring-sounding but potentially lucrative, yet not specific enough for anyone to try and look her up.

“Thank you for coming with me to this.”

You say this a little while later when the two of you are alone with your snacks. You’re sipping on your drink when Wanda takes one of your hands with a smile. She’s glad that she came here with you. She can tell that you’re less on edge and you’re almost enjoying yourself when someone new comes up to you.

Wanda hadn’t seen the other redhead here as she’d glanced around casually while you talked to your friends. She was pretty and Wanda hates this fact as soon as she realizes who she is or rather was to you.

“Dr. Y/L/N. Look at you all grown up! You somehow look even better than the last time I saw you.”

The urge to crawl into a hole and die overwhelms you as you force yourself to swallow what you’re chewing before you turn toward the familiar voice. You were torn between horror that you’re running into her, and shame at the fact that you’d forgotten about her existence up until this moment. As you turn around to face her you have to stop yourself from doing anything other than smiling.

She looks as good as you remember, albeit briefly forgot, and you meet her blue eyes before looking away to her shirt to remind yourself of her name.

“Jessica. Hi. I didn’t expect to see you here!”

It wasn’t exactly a lie given that you’d forgotten a majority of high school due to the sheer amount of stress it had caused you. Your tactic had been to repress whatever you didn’t want to remember which ended up being most of it. This happened to include your brief, trivial fling with the redhead in front of you.

She’s smiling at you still as she leans in for a hug that you feel obligated to give. You try to keep it short and you bounce uncomfortably on the balls of your feet as you watch Jessica shrug as she looks around the room.

“Of course! How else am I supposed to catch up with everyone. I knew for sure it would be the only way I’d ever see you again.”

Wanda notices that your smile is a little pained, and she doubts this could indicate anything good. She doesn’t have much time to consider this further before you’re reaching out for her and looking between her and the redhead who’s still staring at you.

“Jessica, this is Wanda, my wife. Wanda, Jessica was one of my friends.”

It would have been too lucky for this introduction to go unchallenged. You could feel the color drain from your face when Jessica laughs as she reaches out to shake Wanda’s hand. You can tell she’s confused and you want to explain, but not here and now.

“Mostly friends, sometimes with benefits.”

Wanda’s eyes widen when the other redhead says this, and she can’t help but frown as she turns back to you. You hadn’t told her about any relationships you’d had, other than that short stent with the guy you went to prom with. You take a deep breath before releasing an uncomfortable laugh that seems to spur Jessica on. You take a moment to look at her, and you see that she doesn’t have a ring on her finger. This could mean many things, but unfortunately for you it means that she feels free to flirt with you. Despite the fact that you’re wearing a wedding band and your wife is holding your hand, she’s bolder than you’d feared.

“It’s so good to see you! I hate that we lost touch.”

You run a hand through your hair yanking a good bit of it out as you use work as an excuse. It’s a valid one considering how busy you’d been, but you also hadn’t said a word to Jessica in person or otherwise since graduating high school. She couldn’t have forgotten this.

“Yeah, school was just crazy and now work is crazy.”

You talk a little bit about work when she mentions that she’d read that you were a vet. You ask what she does in return and you listen to her marketing spiel before realizing that Wanda’s near frozen beside you. She’s watching Jessica carefully as she speaks to and continues to ogle you. She’s amazed by this woman’s boldness; her blatant disregard for her presence as she looks at you like she’s imagining you naked.

“I bet you’re amazing at that. You were always so passionate.”

When she reaches out to touch your arm Wanda considers smacking her hand away. She looks to you as you let her do it for only a split second before stepping away. You tug at the hem of your shirt needlessly before covering your discomfort with a cough.

“Ahah thanks, um. If you’ll excuse me.”

You run off before either redhead can stop you and they just frown in unison before turning their attention back to each other. They’re sizing each other up and it’s fairly obvious to any onlooker as Jessica’s frown deepens before speaking up.

“So how long have you and Y/n been married?”

Wanda doesn’t need to think about this at all and she tells Jessica the truth. She has to remind herself to take comfort in the fact that she’d been with you for years, and you’d never once mentioned her.

“For 5 years, but we’ve been together since before she started vet school.”

Jessica nods before she looks toward the doorway that you’d disappeared through before grinning at your behavior. You’d always been a skittish thing until she got you alone, and it was then that you’d find your confidence. She remembers the time she spent with you fondly, and despite wanting to rehash some of that, she has a feeling this won’t happen since Wanda’s here.

“She did always have a thing for redheads.”

Wanda’s still scowling when you return from bringing the car around. You’d wanted to flee and you considered taking Wanda with you but she hadn’t followed you so you decided to just make it quick. You ran back into the building hoping to avoid any drama, but seeing your wife near glaring at Jessica’s smug expression, you realize you’re too late.

You walk back over to them quickly and reach out for your wife’s shoulder with a smile.

“Wands, are you ready to go?”

She doesn’t hurry to respond as she considers what you could have seen in this woman. Beyond her looks, Jessica is pretty intolerable and Wanda opens her mouth to say this when you cut her off. You’d seen the look in your wife’s eyes and you knew that things were about to get ugly if you didn’t get her out of here now.

“Jessica, sorry to run off but we have a flight to catch. It was nice seeing you.”

Two minutes later you and Wanda are sitting in a suffocating silence as you drive back to the hotel. You hadn’t bothered to say goodbye to anyone else because you were mostly worried about your wife. You’d made such a hasty exit that you wondered what rumors were spreading, but that thought is cut short by Wanda’s voice.

“Why didn’t you give me a heads up about her?”

Your grimace isn’t missed as Wanda turns to watch you come up with a response while trying to focus on driving. You hadn’t been able to think of an answer to this question that wasn’t more annoying than Jessica, but you didn’t have a lot of time or the courage to come up with a lie.

“I forgot about her, Wands.”

The responding scoff is probably paired with an eye roll you don’t see as Wanda crosses her arms in annoyance. She hadn’t thought that today would go like this. You’d given her no reason to believe that things would go so sideways, and that’s part of the problem and the reason why she’s ticked.

“Bullshit. You didn’t forget about her, Y/n.”

You open your mouth to protest but you realize you have no excuse so you just stay silent. Wanda seems to get more annoyed at this and she huffs in exasperation as you pull into the hotel parking lot.

“How could you? It sounded like you had a really nice time together.”

The sarcasm in Wanda’s voice makes you cringe in realization. You’d really fucked up and in more ways than one. Not only had you neglected to tell Wanda that you had a friend with benefits in high school, but you’d also just let her flirt with you right in front of your wife. You’d be mad too which is why you’re not surprised when Wanda gets out of the car and storms towards the elevator in silence.

“Wands, come on. I was just a kid it didn’t mean anything.”

She’s just angrily pressing the button for the elevator when you reach out for her only for her to jerk away. She watches the elevator crawl down to their level with an inaudible sigh. She really wishes that they’d just stayed in bed today.

“Well, you didn’t rush to tell her that did you? You just let her fucking flirt with you.”

The ride up to the room is made in silence, and you’re almost afraid that Wanda won’t let you go in as she practically storms out of the elevator.

“I’m sorry, it made me uncomfortable, but I didn’t want to risk her saying more.”

You realize too late that this is admitting to remembering something about your time with Jessica and Wanda zeroes in on this immediately. She opens the door to the room before turning to watch you sweat as she backs up.

“More about what, exactly? What more do you remember, detka? “

You’d like to lie down and cry right now because you’d almost been having fun. You’d been starting to think that it was a good thing that you’d come out here to see old friends, and then this bullshit happened. Sure, maybe you’d liked Jessica a little in high school, but that was 15 years ago. You’d moved on and had an amazing wife and you loved the life you shared with her.

“I remember that we had meaningless sex in the theater changing rooms. However, it’s not something that I’d ever want to think about because it wasn’t memorable.”

Wanda scowls at the confirmation that you’d had sex with the other redhead, and she can’t help but hate that she’d had you first. She knew it was irrational. You’d been in high school around the same time as her, but on completely different sides of the country. You would have never met her at that time.

“I also have it way better now because I’m married to my wonderful wife.”

Wanda sighs in frustration before she turns and walks over to the bed with a frown. She sits down on her side and crosses her arms and legs as she watches you follow her tentatively. She is mad at you for not telling her about this sooner, but unfortunately, she’s starting to forgive you for that. However, she’s still pissed that you hadn’t said anything to deter her from flirting with you, and she wants to remind you of this.

“I shouldn’t have had to watch her flirt with you.”

You’re nodding before Wanda’s even finished speaking, and you creep toward the bed as your wife continues. She’s shooting you a look that makes you want to agree to anything that comes out of her mouth. She’s furious and you don’t want to ruin the rest of your trip because of your stupidity. She watches as you kneel at the edge of the bed and just wait for any indication that you’re not welcome.

“You’re mine and you should have told her that.”

Again, you nod furiously in agreement as you do your best to placate your wife. You need her to know that she’s right, and that you will always be hers; never anyone else’s.

“I know, you’re right. I’m yours.”

Wanda’s eyes darken and she stares at you for the longest time before she lays back against the pillows behind her. She doesn’t want to fight with you about this. However, she’d love to teach you a lesson that will hopefully prevent you from doing something like this ever again. Her arms are still crossed as she watches you fidget nervously, and a smile creeps onto her lips as she decides what your punishment will be.

“Prove it to me then.”

Your head snaps up and you meet your wife’s hard gaze with a puzzled look.

“What?”

Wanda’s smile widens as she leans forward and takes a moment to look you over. You’re tense and flushed and Wanda has a feeling you’ll be very compliant given that you feel guilty for not standing up to your ex-friends with benefits or whatever she was. She plans on taking advantage of this, just so long as you’re game. 

“Prove to me that you’re mine and I’ll forgive you.”

To be continued...

Masterlist

[helloalycia]

teenage dirtbag [five] // wanda maximoff

summary: spending the afternoon with the Maximoff twins proved to be interesting... and prom night finally arrives!

warning/s: none.

author's note: here’s the final part to this mini series! i’m so glad you all enjoyed it and i appreciate every note i get, thank you 😊♥️ i’ve still got other wanda stuff in the works that will be posted soon, so stay tuned!

part one | part two | part three | part four | lil bonus bit for after p5 |masterlist | wattpad

After a few tries and encouragement from Pietro, I managed to win the black cat plush toy for Wanda. It was strange, her brother wanting me to make a move on her, but I guess it reassured me a bit to know he thought I was actually good enough for her.

The two of us headed to the diner next door to find Y/BF/N and the other Maximoff twin, myself hiding the plush toy behind my back.

"Finally, you two took forever!" Y/BF/N exclaimed when he saw us approaching their table.

"Y/N here is one stubborn girl with that machine," Pietro explained with a smile as we took our seats. His eyes fell to the drink in front of him. "Oh, you ordered!"

"Just the drinks," Y/BF/N said, before looking to me as I slid in beside him in the booth. "I got you a Cherry Coke. Your favourite."

I smiled gratefully. "Thanks."

"So, what d'you win?" he asked, quirking a brow.

Feeling the heat rising up my neck, I looked to Wanda who was sat opposite Y/BF/N. She was leaning on her hand as she stared at me with a kind smile on her lips.

"You said you wanted the black cat," I said nervously, before holding it out to her. "Here."

Taken aback, she raised her eyebrows but accepted the gift. "Aww, Y/N... you didn't have to!"

I shrugged, smiling awkwardly.

She grinned, studying the toy before looking up at me with sparkling hazel eyes. "I love it. Thank you."

Nodding, I glanced at Pietro who was grinning with pride before me. I could feel Y/BF/N staring at me and when I looked his way, he was smirking and wiggling his eyebrows knowingly. Rolling my eyes, I focused my attention on the menu to distract myself.

"So... what shall we order?" I asked, hoping to change the subject.

After relaying our order to the waitress, Pietro was the first to speak up.

"Okay, I have to ask," he began, leaning forward slightly as he looked between Y/BF/N and I. "Are you guys dating?"

I almost choked on my drink as I looked over my glass to see him grinning cheekily. He knew full well that Y/BF/N and I were only friends, so what was he playing at?

"Definitely not," Y/BF/N answered with a chuckle. Y/N here is practically my sister."

"Exactly," I added, giving Pietro a look that basically said I'm going to murder you. "He's been my best friend since we were kids."

"So there's never been feelings there?" Pietro continued to question curiously, leaning back in his seat.

Wanda slapped his arm gently. "Leave them alone, Piet."

"Never," Y/BF/N answered for us both. "Like I said, she's my annoying little sister."

I quirked a brow and looked to him. "Little? I think I'd be the older sister in this fake sibling relationship,"

"But I'm a month older than you," he stated like that was explanation enough.

"But you act like a child," I retorted. "I'd be the older one."

He rolled his eyes, though a smile was playing on his lips. "Yeah, yeah, whatever you say."

I rolled my eyes, too, before looking back to the twins. Wanda was smiling as she sipped her drink and Pietro had a mischievous glint in his eyes as he looked to me. What the hell was he thinking?

"So you're not interested in Y/BF/N," he thought aloud. "And you definitely weren't interested in me..."

"You made a move on Y/N?" Wanda asked suddenly, looking to her brother with knitted brows.

I breathed out through my nose, eyes falling to the table with embarrassment.

"Yeah, but she made it clear she didn't like me," Pietro said with a shrug, before looking to me again. "So who do you like then? Or is their a girlfriend we don't know about?"

Looking up, I saw three sets of eyes on me and I suddenly felt nervous. Y/BF/N and Pietro were watching with amusement dancing in their eyes as Wanda chewed her lip curiously, awaiting an answer.

"You know there's nobody, Pietro," I said through a forced smile as I looked to him.

His cheeky smile was still present as he said. "Really? I thought you mentioned someone back then. Whilst we were playing in the arcade."

Oh, boy, was he going to die.

"You misunderstood," I played along, before kicking him in the shin to shut him the hell up.

Of course, it was just my luck that the leg in front of me was actually Wanda's. She squeaked an 'ow' as she bent down to rub her leg.

"What was that?" she asked with confusion.

Pietro must have pitied me, having put me on the spot enough in the past two minutes, as he looked to his sister with an apologetic smile. "My bad, Wands. My foot just twitched."

I breathed out with relief as Pietro looked to me, trying not to laugh. He was lucky we were with company otherwise I would have killed him there and then.

—

I wasn't expecting to be hanging out with the Maximoff twins on a Saturday afternoon, but by the time dinner came to an end, I realised how much I enjoyed the day. And I think I could say the same for Y/BF/N, too.

The rest of our meal was pretty uneventful after Pietro's initial teasing, to my relief, and Pietro eventually quit it with the overt hints towards his sister. The last thing I wanted was for Wanda to feel uncomfortable, so I was glad he eventually cut it out.

At the end of the meal, Pietro and Y/BF/N offered to split the bill between them – something about chivalry not being dead, I don't know, all I knew was Wanda and I were getting a free meal so why complain? – and headed to the till to pay, leaving Wanda and I alone.

She was hugging her new black cat plushie on her lap adorably, making me smile.

"Aren't black cats supposed to be bad luck or something?" I asked, earning her attention.

She put her arm on the back of her seat, leaning her head on her hand as she gave me her full attention. "I didn't peg you for the suspicious type," she taunted.

I smiled. "I never said I believed it. Just what I've heard."

She chuckled, licking her lips. "Fair point... I don't believe it either. I just love black cats. They're so cute and get way too much stick for merely existing."

It was my turn to laugh. She had such a unique way of thinking that I couldn't help but be attracted to. Something as simple as the way she was smiling at me right now warmed my heart.

"How is your hand by the way?" she suddenly asked, eyes looking down to it.

I squeezed it into a fist and released. The purple bruising along my knuckles had turned yellow-green which meant it was getting better, but it did still hurt a little. Nonetheless, I didn't want to make Wanda feel bad, so I gave her a reassuring smile.

"It's okay," I said, making her look up at me with concerned eyes. "I mean, it hurts a little, but it's getting better."

She pursed her lips, nodding. "Nate really did deserve what you did. Bet it felt good."

I raised my eyebrows with surprise, certainly not expecting that. "I guess it did a little, but..."

"It's okay, I'm not biased," she promised with a slight smile. "We broke up, remember?"

I relaxed before mirroring her expression. "Then yeah, it felt pretty great. Karma for hitting me with that stupid football."

She chuckled, leaning back into her seat and clutching her cat. "Karma, indeed." There was a pause, before she grew excited. "So prom is coming up. How are we feeling?"

I groaned playfully. "We're feeling exhausted already. I'm not a huge prom fan."

She gasped. "Seriously? Y/N, come on, it's our last one! How aren't you excited?"

I pulled a face. "The concept of dancing in a hall with people I barely speak to isn't exactly appealing."

She straightened up, hugging her cat closely. "So what, you're not gonna go?"

"I'm not sure yet... Y/BF/N has plans to ask someone and really wants me to go, too," I admitted. "But I've not decided. I might just leave him to it."

She tilted her head to the side curiously, eyes studying me intensely. "What if somebody asked you to go with them? Then would you go?"

I tried not to laugh as I leaned my head in the palm of my hand on the table. "Nobody is going to ask me, Wanda. Nobody even knows who I am."

She scoffed playfully. "Now that's just not true. You're beautiful, Y/N. Funny. Kind. Intelligent. Someone is bound to ask."

I rolled my eyes, hoping to distract from the heat rising to my cheeks. I knew she was just saying all of that stuff to be nice, but God was I awful at accepting compliments.

She must have noticed as she leaned forward on her own palm, eyes glowing with entertainment. "Okay, what if you asked somebody?"

Appreciating the subject change, I leaned back in my seat. "I wouldn't even know who to ask."

She thought about it for a moment, before saying, "Pietro was being annoying earlier with all of that questioning, but he's right. Is there nobody you're even remotely interested in at school?"

I quirked a brow, wondering if she was serious. The way she was watching me patiently, a small smile tugging at her lips, made me believe she was. And I found that I couldn't bring it in myself to completely lie to her. So, I didn't.

"There's one person," I admitted reluctantly, swallowing hard. This piqued her interest as she sat up straight, an excited look on her face. I continued, "But I could never ask her."

She gave me an are you serious? look. "And why not?"

I tensed my jaw, smile fading at the thought. "She wouldn't say yes."

Wanda's expression softened. "I doubt that."

Feeling a little uncomfortable, I shuffled in my seat. "She wouldn't. And it's fine anyway! I mean, I wouldn't even know what to say. It's pointless."

"Try," was all she said. And in response to my confused face, she added, "Try asking me. Practice what you would say if I was this girl."

I shook my head. "Wanda, that's not–"

"Just try!" she insisted, sitting back in her seat and smiling encouragingly. "No harm, no foul, right?"

Maybe a little, I thought, but straightened up anyway.

"Okay, er..." I cleared my throat, suddenly feeling nervous as her eyes followed my every move. Looking up, I felt intimidated by her gaze, even though she had the softest smile and kindest eyes directed my way. "Wanda, would you like to go to prom with me?"

Without hesitation, she nodded. "I'd be honoured to, Y/N."

It was fake, this whole thing was 'practice'. But God, I wanted it to be real so bad. She held my gaze, confident and startling and wonderful all at once, and I had no idea what to do. My palms were getting sweaty and my heart was racing the longer she stared. My gaze fell to her lips at the wrong time, as she licked them and I wanted to lean in, wanted to kiss her. I wanted to kiss her hard and tell her how I felt. I wanted to ask her to prom and dance with her in the school gym. I wanted to hold her hand and pull her close, staring into her eyes without fear of going too far.

I wanted her.

"Okay, we're all done here," Pietro's voice broke our staring contest. He clapped his hands together, stopping by the table. "You both ready to go?"

Wanda nodded, already sliding out from the booth. "I'm ready. Y/N?"

I looked up and forgot how to breathe when she smiled down at me.

"Y-yeah," I got out, wiping my palms on my jeans before sliding out the booth. "All ready. Let's go."

—

Prom came upon us in no time and I'd made the decision to attend. My sister ended up convincing me with Y/BF/N, the two of them rambling about how it was a once-in-a-lifetime experience and a rite of passage before graduating high school. As much as I hated the thought of attending, I knew they were right, so I agreed to go.

Y/S/N came over to help me get ready, as she was the one who picked my dress. I wanted to wear a cute pantsuit, not really one for dresses, but after her complaints – "you're really milking that whole 'I'm a lesbian' look aren't you?" – I agreed on a dress that she chose.

She helped me do my hair and makeup before taking loads of embarrassing photos of me at the door. I went to prom with Y/BF/N and his date – some girl he liked in his Maths class – which wasn't too bad, but I didn't want to third wheel too much, so I gave them space when we actually arrived.

The school had done a good job at converting the gym into something unrecognisable, I must admit. Plus there was food, which was always a good distraction.

Some acquaintances from some of my classes said their hellos to me and engaged in some quick conversations before moving on. Admittedly, it wasn't too bad catching up with people I'd shared class with over the past several years. Y/BF/N even had a few dances with me, both him and his date, which was sweet, but honestly, I still felt out of place.

Two hours in, I was already fed up of the experience, opting to stand on the sidelines by a cocktail table with a sad glass of punch. I definitely didn't expect to see Wanda approaching me with an impressed smile on her lips. I hadn't actually seen her since arriving, the place full of students and myself barely recognising anyone as it was, let alone in a full gymnasium.

"You came," she said when she stopped my table, eyes looking me up and down. "You look amazing, Y/N."

She was one to talk. I tried not to drool over how beautiful she looked. I assumed she'd be one to wear a dress, but I guess I assumed wrong as she was pulling off a burgundy suit and white blouse. Her hair was curled and left out, paired with a smokey eye makeup look that only complimented her eyes perfectly.

"Says you?" I replied with a smile. "You look gorgeous, Wanda."

She smiled bashfully. "Thank you... so what made you change your mind in coming?"

I laughed uncomfortably, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "Partially forced by my family, partially felt like I had to."

She laughed alongside me. "Well, I feel like you made the right choice."

"Not too sure about that," I joked, before straightening up. "So, who was lucky enough to bring Wanda Maximoff as their date to the prom?"

She rolled her eyes at my compliment, smile on her lips still. "Nobody. I came alone. Well, alone but with my brother."

I was surprised at that, but tried to hide it with a nod. "Alone works, too."

"Says the girl who also came alone," she teased.

I couldn't help but smile with amusement. "Yeah. Says she."

Setting her purse on the table, she began to open it. "I was looking for you earlier. But I couldn't find you."

I watched as she fumbled around in her purse. "Yeah? And what did you need?"

After a moment of searching, she finally pulled out two slips of paper that looked like tickets. Holding them up with a small smile, she said, "I've got two tickets to the Paramore concert happening in the summer."

My jaw dropped with disbelief. "You're kidding."

She shook her head, holding them towards me. I accepted them, looking to see if she was pulling my leg. She wasn't.

"These are really good seats," I pointed out, before looking up at her. "You scored big time."

She laughed as I held the tickets out to her. Accepting them back, she said, "I did. And I bought them for a reason."

I raised an eyebrow as she watched me.

"We've got to get matching tee shirts somehow, right?" she joked lightheartedly before looking to me with certainty. Green eyes sparkled with hopefulness as she said, "Come with me."

My mouth went dry. She was asking me to go with her, holy shit.

I opened my mouth, about to speak, but she cut me off.

"Don't say maybe," she said, chewing on her lower lip nervously. "Say yes."

The music and the dancing students and the lights all faded into nothing as Wanda waited for a response, stepping closer to me, way too close to be platonic. I was overwhelmed, definitely not expecting this. Never in a million years did I think Wanda Maximoff, the most popular girl in our grade, would be asking me to see Paramore with her. I didn't even think she knew I existed! 

Her eyes darted between mine patiently, sending shivers down my spine. I could feel her breath tickling my lips as she waited and I looked down to hers, suppressing the urge to lean in.

"Yes," I finally spoke, voice barely a whisper as I swallowed hard. "I'll go with you." 

She nodded, but that wasn't enough as she licked her own lips. I looked back to her eyes, only to see her looking down at mine.

"Can I kiss you?" she muttered softly, making me freeze in place.

Her eyes looked back to mine, dark and patient. I managed to nod weakly, and she wasted no more time when pressing her lips to mine a in a slow, gentle, warm kiss. Her hand wrapped around my waist, tugging my body close to hers, as the other rested behind my neck, giving me goosebumps and turning my insides to jelly.

I closed my eyes, melting into her embrace, one hand planted firmly on her waist as the other rested on her chest. She tasted like peppermint and her floral perfume was infiltrating my senses, making my head dizzy in the best way possible.

When she pulled away, I opened my eyes and was immediately submerged in pools of green. Still so close to her, I kept ahold of her waist as she did the same with me, eyes flickering down to my lips once more.

"I've wanted to do that for a long time," I admitted breathlessly.

She looked to me again. "Why didn't you?"

Her lips were swollen slightly, red lipstick ruined. I could only imagine the mess on my own lips, but I didn't care.

I smiled nervously. "You were with Nate."

She tried not to laugh. "How stupid of me." Eyes falling to my lips again, she added, "I should have broken up with him sooner if it meant I could do this."

I smiled widely, heart fluttering in my chest at her words. Leaning forward, I took her bottom lip in mine, giving her a final kiss that was long overdue before pulling away.

"In case you couldn't tell, you were the girl I wanted to ask to prom," I said, stepping back slightly, but taking her hands in mine.

She bit her lip to contain her smile. "I figured... and for the record, I would have said yes."

My cheeks began to heat up, but I smiled nonetheless. "Well, in that case... Wanda, would you like to go to prom with me?"

She grinned. "I would be honoured, Y/N."

I mirrored her expression. She held out her free hand.

"Do you wanna dance?" she asked gently.

I accepted her hand, squeezing it gently. "I'd love to."

Before either of us could make a move to do so, we heard Pietro's voice shouting in the distance.

"Fina-fucking-lly!"

We turned to the left to see him racing towards us in his blue suit, a knowing smile on his lips.

"You took forever," he said with disbelief to his sister. "I thought I'd have to keep flirting with Y/N in front of you for you to get the hint and make a fucking move."

Wanda rolled her eyes, but I smiled as her cheeks dusted pink.

"And you!" he said, looking to me. "You're so oblivious it hurts."

"Wanda didn't know I existed before this year," I told him, half joking and half serious. "I had every right to be."

Wanda squeezed my hand, earning my attention. She shook her head. "That's not true. I always noticed you."

I gave her a knowing look. "Seriously?"

With an endearing smile, she nodded. "Seriously."

I sighed, looking away and definitely not expecting that. "Well, okay then."

She laughed, pulling me close and wrapping an arm around my waist comfortably. "I believe you owe me a dance. C'mon.

Pietro opened his mouth to speak, but Wanda merely pushed past him, guiding me to the dance floor.

"Not now, Piet," she said, before looking to me with sparkling eyes. "I want to dance with my girlfriend."

I was sure it was impossible for me to smile anymore.

"Girlfriend," I noted aloud, nodding. "I like the sound of that."

She grinned before standing opposite me, holding out her hand. And as I accepted it, I felt a warmth spread all over me that was only possible because of one girl and one girl only.

Wanda Maximoff.

[awkward-gay-bro]

M-Day

Wanda couldn’t take it anymore. Her father and Charles Xavier were yelling over each other. Each man telling the other what she needed to do. Neither man talking to her. She was just a tool for their causes. These men were always telling her what to do. She couldn’t take it anymore. It was time for her to take the power back from these men in her life. And with a simple utterance under her breath, she did. 

“No more masculinity.”

In an instant the men behind her were gone. What stood in their place could hardly be called men. The years had faded from their faces, and the muscles had faded from their body. Their fighting ended as they locked eyes, seeing what the other had become. Wanda opened a portal in a blaze of scarlet red energy, and left her father and his friend, rival, and soon to be lover behind. 

It had been a year since Wanda Maximoff had changed the world. Some people had adapted to their new lives quickly, while others were still struggling to accept the new reality she had created. Bobby Drake was one of the few men that had been left unaffected by her power. He’d heard on the news they were being called the 198, apparently less than 200 men had been left unchanged.

As Iceman worked out in the danger room, his mind began to wonder through all of the people he once knew and what they had become. 

Rogue had told him what she found when she’d gone on the hunt to find Remy LeBeau. Gambit had disappeared the day it all happened, didn’t even give Rogue a chance to say goodbye. Just left a note saying he couldn’t bear to face her this way. She feared he’d return to his family in New Orleans, that he would return to a life of crime. So she made a trip to the Bayou, to confront him for leaving her, to let her know she didn’t care what he looked like. But when she arrived she found that the Thieves Guild had been disbanded. The Assassins Guild, too. It seems with all their men diminished, the warring had finally ended. Rogue was distraught that she couldn’t find her Cajun. 

She’d almost given up her search when she found herself at a bar. She’d grown weary from worrying and a drink was the perfect thing to cut the edge. Rogue chose the bar cause it looked  like it was mutant friendly, but she hadn’t realized how friendly. It seemed this particular bar had employed mutant bois for a very particular role. She’d watched a dozen or so of them walking around in skimpy outfits, offering to dance on the women who were patroning the bar. A swarm of the bois had surrounded the one member of the 198 there, sat in a booth getting his drinks and dances for free. But seeing a real man wasn’t the most surprising thing for Anna Marie. A skinny boy in a trench coat had walked out from the back, and the bois surrounding the man parted like the red seas. The skinny twink stripped off his trench coat and threw it to the ground, revealing a gravity defying pair of globes that looked comically large on his tiny frame. He dropped his hands to the ground and shot his ass to the air as he began gyrating his cheeks in the air. As his mounds danced hypnotically they began to build up kinetic energy, and slowly his leather pants began to glow brighter and brighter with a neon pink aura. The man reached out to touch, but before he could the leather pants exploded off of the twink’s frame, leaving his gyrating hips in nothing but a magenta pink thong. The man grabbed hold of the twink’s globes and slipped a hundred into the pouch off his thong. The twink took the man by the hand and led him into a backroom. Rogue didn’t see him again until the bar was closing, when finally he and the other man came back out to the bar. She kept out of sight until the bar was closing, the kinetic twink the only one there to close out the till. Then she came out of hiding, walked over and placed a gloved hand on  the twink’s shoulder and said, “Chère?”

Bobby had found out later that Rogue had decided to stay there with him. She was going to prove that what had become of him wouldn’t stop them from loving each other. He’d heard rumors that the both of them had moved in with the man from the bar. Gambit wanted the emotional love he could get from Rogue, but he needed the physical support he was getting from that man. 

Looking around the danger room Bobby was reminded of the first time he’d entered the Danger Room after the change. Bobby, Emma Frost, and Jean Grey were making their way down to the danger room with a handful of the remaining active duty X-Men. Emma and Jean had put aside their differences for the good of the team, with so many of the power players out of commission and Storm in Wakanda taking care of T’Challa, they’d become the defuncto leaders. It took them a long time to compile a team. With most of the X-men not really being men anymore, the team was predominantly made up of women. 

Bobby was one of the few men left unaffected from their former roster, which is why Emma had extended a hand to the all too giddy Wade Wilson. Deadpool had been so excited when the change happened, with him left unchanged his sexual options had expanded vastly. Most women were now without partners and excited at the prospect of any man, and even the burliest of men had now become cherubic and willing. Bobby was taken aback when they first brought Deadpool onto the team, but he quickly proved himself as a reliable asset, saving the day countless times. Of course, he’d also used the Institute as his own personal buffet. Bobby had walked in on him once with the barely legal Hellion and Elixir. The two former rivals had been pit against one another time and time again, but nowadays they spent most of their time trying to complete a common goal. Much to Wade’s delight. The merc with a mouth had justified it to Bobby by saying that Elixir’s biokinesis meant he could ignite every pleasure center at once while Hellion’s telekinesis meant they could do positions he’d never imagined. This wasn’t the last time Bobby had walked in on Wade’s excursions.  

Before any of that happened though, and before the team ever went on any missions, Jean had wanted them to practice. She knew that most of the team had worked together at some time or another, but they needed to make sure they knew each other’s powers and fighting styles inside and out before they ever stepped into a mission. So she programmed a rigorous series of sessions in the Danger Room so that they could be ready for anything they encountered. But nothing could have readied Jean for what she was about to encounter. 

Emma and Jean weren’t the only one’s who’d ended their feud after the change had happened, and they both had to come face to face with that fact at that very moment. When Jean had opened the door to the danger room, she found her former suitors writhing around on the Danger Room floor. She’d commanded that they stop fighting, when Emma placed a hand on her shoulder and gave a knowing look. They’d both dedicated years of their lives to Scott Summers, but it looked like he was finally done with telepaths trying to probe around in his head. Instead, he was living it up as Logan’s tiny cocklet probed around in...other places. 

Emma and Jean both fled from the scene, Wade running after the both of them. He’d told Bobby that they took out their anger on his body that day. But after that, they had both used his body for other reasons. 

The X-men weren’t the only team that had been shaken up by Wanda Maximoff did that day. Being one of the few unaffected superheroes of his power, Iceman had forged a strong new relationship with Nick Fury. Nick was in transit when the world changed, so he didn’t find out what had happened until he entered the Avenger’s Tower. 

And Fury had told Bobby in confidence what he saw when walked in. Half a dozen of the male Avengers were huddled together, their uniforms strewn on the floor. Fury had looked on in horror as Earth’s mightiest heroes had been reduced to an orgy of young twinks. At the center of the storm of bodies was Steve Rogers, once the epitome of masculinity now even smaller than he was before he took the serum. Tony Stark, the billion dollar playboy had been laying on the floor, going and back and forth between pleasuring the hulk and planting his face in America’s ass.

Fury later found out that Bruce Banner had been hulked out when the change occurred. When wasn’t the Hulk, Bruce turned back into his normal human form. But many debated whether he was a part of the 198. As whenever he got horny, he reverted to his twinky green form. And now that his fellow Avengers were always there to offer him a helping hand, he didn’t stay Bruce for long. 

Thor and Dr. Strange had been there to advise the team on a new mythical threat, but once the change occurred their attentions had drifted to each other. Strange had enchanted his tongue so that the Norse God could feel it inside him, while Thor had found a new use for his faithful mjolnr, determining which ass was worthy. He’d shoved the handle into Dr. Strange, and from the moans escaping the sorcerer supreme, he was definitely worthy. 

Scott Lang had tried to use his pym particles to bring him back to his normal size. He’d thought it had worked at first as he’d grown back up to his normal six foot, but the particles had an unexpected effect as his formerly tight pair of buns expanded outwards into a pair of massive pillows. He’d reached for his pym particles again, but Fury explained to Bobby that it was no use. By that time Strange had cast his enchantment again, and when Lang felt the mystical tongue between his cheeks he’d fully embraced his new body. After that Scott had used his pym particles instead to shrink himself down to doll size, and he was quickly passed from hero to hero. None of the men there had a large enough member to alleviate the other’s desires, so it had come down to Scott to fill that role. 

Fury had also told Bobby Drake about Shield’s attempts to reverse the change. The super soldier serum had turned Steve Rogers into Captain America once before, they were certain that if they adjusted their equations they could do it again. Fury waited in anticipation when Steve underwent the procedure, but what emerged was not the masculine wonder they were hoping for. Captain America had been changed, but not in the ways they’d hoped. If anything, he was even more feminine and shapely. His body had shrunken down even more, standing five foot nothing. His lips had grown plump and rosy, something even Fury couldn’t keep himself from imagining wrapped around his member. But the biggest change came from Roger’s lower half, the only thing to grow. His massive cheeks seemed to move independently of his body, as the slightest shift of his weight caused them to jiggle indefinitely. 

Fury had insisted that they keep their testing, but the moment it was revealed Cap’s old sidekick Bucky was a member of the 198 that all went out the window. Bucky had come to find Stevie, his feelings finally able to be revealed. The two had run off together and been on the move ever since. Bucky had always looked up to Steve, but now that Stevie was the one looking up Bucky wasn’t willing to let that change. Now he got to be the protector for Stevie, and he couldn’t think of anyway better to service his country than to let America’s hero service him. 

Not every team had been decommissioned because of the change, though, Bobby recalled. His close friend Johnny Storm had been texting him like crazy ever since the change took place. “Flame on!” had taken a very different meaning for the now nubile twink. Bobby had taken him up on his offers once or twice, something sexy about how steamy things got when Iceman’s frozen rod entered Johnny’s flaming form. 

But he’d shared some pillow talk about how The Fantastic Four were doing. They’d been on the space station when Wanda uttered those three words, making it the second time their bodies had been changed while in space. The suits they were wearing were made specifically to contort to their environment, so they were spared some of the humility of their tiny members being on display. Johnny had been very thankful that he hadn’t had to face his own sister naked in his new form. 

The last time they’d changed, Ben Grimm had gotten the short end of the stick, but this time it was Mr. Fantastic himself that had been struggling to accept reality. He’d spent the first few weeks focusing his energy on stretching his body out to resemble his original masculine form. He’d even tried to stretch the hairs on his face to make it look like he had a five o’clock shadow. But Sue eventually sat him down and said his focus on trying to be something he wasn’t anymore meant he was never completely focused on the mission. Sue had taken on much more of a leader role in the team and had said that their relationship would have to come second, and that it was an order. 

Ben and Johnny on the other hand adapted very quickly to the changes. Ben was ecstatic he wouldn’t have to buy customer made clothes or furniture anymore. And now that the bois who were once men were so much more touchy feely, his attempts for romance were a lot easier. Johnny had always been a bit of a womanizer, and he’d quickly adapted those skills into being the sluttiest hero around. He’d gotten with almost every member of the 198, even those reluctant to admit that bois were just as good as women. 

Johnny had even mentioned the time he dragged Reed out with him on the prowl. After getting a few drinks into Mr. Fantastic he’d convinced him to put his stretching powers to good use. Dressed in already too small booty shorts, Reed pushed the fabric to its limit by stretching his cheeks out a foot off his frame. Johnny had chosen the bar specifically because he knew his buddy Peter, one of the 198, liked to hang out there. They’d seen him on the dance floor, and once Reed pressed his gravity defying globes into Peter’s crotch, he almost shot his web right then and there. 

The Fantastic Four weren’t the only heroes still in action, either. Bobby had heard stories that Hawkeye and his ex-wife had teamed up to train a new archer to take his place. But Clint had always believed the best placed to train was in the field, so Hawkeye and Mockingbird had taken the new hero out on the prowl. Clint had tried to continue on with his previous uniform, but the baggy clothes were distracting. So Mockingbird put together a new outfit for him. Now he’d added a new weapon to his arsenal, and he’d become a true homme fatale. Once the training was over, Hawkeye decided to continue his fighting crime, using his feminine wiles and the support of his protégé and ex-wife when he needed the back-up. 

Being invulnerable meant Wonder Boi was still able to fight just as hard as when he was Wonder Man. But after his sister had run into him on a mission, she’d decided she’d have to take a leave of absence from the X-Men to help him stay on track. Psylocke had discovered her brother writhing around on the floor of an abandoned warehouse with the Absorbing Boi, and it was fair to say that Wonder Boi was doing just as much of the absorbing. Betsy had to pull the two apart and psionically remove Wonder Boi’s passion before she could get him to arrest the criminal. She’d explained the whole thing to Bobby the last time she was at the X-Mansion, it was he that had a coined the new names for the hero and villain. 

Bobby remember when he’d run into another hero on a mission of his own. Walking through an alley in search for the Callisto, he’d run into none other than Iron Fist. Seeing Bobby Drake in his still masculine glory had pushed Danny Rand to the edge. Iceman, on the other hand, was focused on his mission. That is until Cessily Kincaid rang in that she’d apprehended Callisto. Bobby had to admit that he’d found Rand stunning back when they could look eye to eye, but in his shrunken state he’d become completely beautiful. Before Bobby even had time to react, Ironfist had focused his chi in order to tear Iceman’s frozen suit right off his frame. Bobby picked up the tiny twink as Danny wrapped his arms around the larger man’s torso. Bobby absorbed moisture from their air focusing it on his arm which grew even more massive, getting ready to show Danny what his own iron fist could do. 

Bobby shook the thoughts from his head, the memories getting the icy hero hot and bothered. He knew still had a work-out to do, and some fun already lined up for that night. He instead let his mind to drift and began to wonder how far Wanda’s hex had reached. 

He knew that the denizens of Atlantis hadn’t escaped her reach. He’d seen Namor when they were recruiting mutants for the new roster of X-men. The king of the sea had been reduced to a lithe little twink, and Bobby had remembered wondering how he could possibly stay submerged with the massive flotation devices his ass cheeks had become. 

Bobby also knew that those in space hadn’t escaped Wanda’s reach. He’d seen what had happened to Starlord. Rocket Raccoon had been affected, not that anyone could tell. But he’d been sending intergalactic communication about the adorable new Petey Quill. Starlord had opened up an intergalactic brothel, hoping that in space there were more than just 198 men that could fulfil his needs. Bobby’s old flame Kitty, from when he was in the closet, had dated Quill for a while. Bobby reminded himself that if he ever found himself in Knowwhere he should make a stop at Quil’s. 

Not even Wanda’s own family had been protected from her hex. Well, her son Wiccan had, but most people believed that was due to his similar powers. As his twin brother had not been spared. Billy and Tommy were hardly identical twins now, Speed looked much more like a little brother. Wiccan’s partner had not been spared either, Hulkling becoming a comical name for the green twink now. The only thing that had remained hulking on Hulkling was his ginormous ass. The three of them had moved in together. At first Wiccan had been trying to find a way to reverse the hex. But as time went on he began liking being the man of the house.

Bobby gathered his thoughts as he finished his workout. A text came through on his phone and his hurt fluttered, hoping that it was from the person he was going to meet. But it was just a message from his friend, Peter. Something about Nick Fury needing them both for a mission this weekend. While reading, he thought about what Peter had told him happened to him when the change took place. Peter Parker was in search of the villain, Mysterio, fighting his way through illusions and nightmares when suddenly they all vanished. In the change, Mysterio’s suit had fallen to the ground, his plexiglass helmet had rolled to the ground. No suit meant no illusions, and without his illusions to hide him, Spider-Man was able to see Quentin Beck in nothing but his skivvies. Parker had described how the situation played out in detail. Beck had fallen to his knees, and Spider-man assumed he was going to beg to not be taken in. But instead of begging, he grabbed for Peter’s spidey suit, and planted his face directly up against the old web shooter. Peter didn’t let his urges stop him, and immediately bound the criminal up with his webs. It didn’t stop the writhing twink though, it would seem that Quentin Beck had a thing for bondage. 

Iceman realized he was letting his thoughts get to him again, quickly shaking the fantasies out of his mind. He’d spent his whole shower reimagining the story Spidey had told him, giving it a much happier end for Mysterio. But now Bobby was on his to something he’d been waiting a lifetime for. He’d gotten an email a few days prior asking to meet with him, and since the change happened, bois only reached out to Robert Drake for one reason. 

He turned his car into a long winding driveway, having to stop at a gate just to gain access to the giant manor in front of him. 

“I’m sorry, the Worthington Estate is not accepting guests at this moment,” a soft voice rang through the intercom. 

 “Hello Warren, it’s Bobby.” The gates opened and gave way for Iceman to enter the estate. As he walked up the steps the front door opened. Standing in front of him was one of his oldest friends, Warren Worthington lll. 

“Hello Warren, you’re looking good.” Bobby had been hiding feelings for the spoiled rich boy since they were both teenagers on the first ever team Xavier put together. Back then he was so put together, his golden hair always coiffed perfectly. His chiseled abs and pecs always on clear display, a necessity to fly he’d argued, before their uniforms were built. Of course, once the uniforms were fitted it didn’t seem to change. But Angel was always smitten with the girls on the team, and Bobby was never willing to let anyone see his gay side. But now the tables were turned. 

The name Angel had never been more fitting. The short young man in front if him was completely beautiful. The cherubic face with glimmering blue eyes and rosy pink lips in tandem with the smooth hairless body and narrow shoulders made Warren the perfect image of a twink. His angelic wings were spread aside, as he was no longer able to comfortably rest them on his back with his massive rear end pushing them out. 

“Hi Bobby, I’ve been meaning to reach out. I need to ask you for a favor.”

“I know what you want to ask, and you don’t know how long I have waited for it.”

Bobby took no time running over and grabbing the smaller man by the waist and leaning in for a kiss. The feeling of his soft lips melted the icy hero’s heart as a heat took over his entire body. He grabbed a handful of Warren’s massive cheek as Warren began grinding his shrunken cock into Bobby’s leg. Iceman slipped his fingers in the back of Angel’s daisy dukes and slowly pushed one ice cold finger into the cherubic man’s hole. Moans of pleasure escaped Warren’s mouth as his wings started flapping with a mind of their own. The two men took flight as they continued their thrusts of pleasure. Repositioning themselves in the air, their clothes slowly fell piece by piece to the floor. Once fully stripped Bobby was able to fully enter those angelic cheeks. 

[missmonsters2]

About You || Part IV

Gif by: giuliacommissions (please check her out if you’d like to commission her for gifs and other work 💞)

PAIRING: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader/OFC

Summary: Wanda had never known loss like she has until she lost Pietro. It’s debilitating. She can’t eat, can’t sleep, can’t even leave her house. Life is fading fast, and she’s not sure if she even wants to hang on. Enter you, a stranger that reconnects her to the daily things that makes life beautiful.

Warnings: Deals with loss & grief and the spectrum of emotions and depression that comes with it. Please note there is no glorification in any of this. Loss, grief, and depression are nothing beautiful. Also, please don’t hesitate or reach out for help if you are in a dark place. Love you, lovelies 💘

Genre: Angst & Romance

NOTE: Did you forget about this series? I wouldn’t blame ya LOL Please drop a comment if you’d like to be part of the tag list! 😚

PART I || PART II || PART III

PART IV of X

Translations + Transliteration Пьетро - Pietro

Count: 1497

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

“Honestly, you need to get out more.”

Wanda huffs as she tries to refocus back on her painting. Pietro has decided to come visit her during his lunch hour from work and he seems to be in a mood of harassing her on her social skills—or really lack of.

“I don’t know if you noticed, Pietro, but considering that my form of a 9-5 job includes me sitting in this studio all day painting solo. There’s not much I can do about human interaction.” Wanda dabs her paintbrush in the blue of her palette, coming back up with a steady hand as she continues her work.

Her brother admires the unfinished art his sister is creating, but he grins when he hears her reply.

“If that’s the case, I can totally introduce you to someone. They would seriously be perfect for you; hopefully, help you loosen the stick up your—”

“Пьетро!” She yells, accent thick as she glares at him, a slight blush on her cheeks. She rolls her eyes as she hears his laughter.

“Alright, but seriously, Wanda. I could introduce you to someone.”

Wanda focuses on painting again, absently noticing how she’s got the color green on her thumb, but she’s pretty sure she didn’t take out green today.

“Not now, I’m pretty busy with work.”

She whines when she feels Pietro flick the back of her head.

“Look at you, all grown up and busy with work.”

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

You’re about to leave Wanda’s after doing her dishes and sweeping the floor. You’re seemingly checking to make sure you have all your things when you notice for the first time that’s heavily pouring outside.

There’s thunder and lightning, you can barely see in front of you when you look out the window.

You hum before Wanda appears beside you, looking out the window as well.

“How did you get here?” She asks softly.

“Driving,” you answer absently, still staring at the harsh rain pouring outside. It’s not like you haven’t driven in this weather before. You’re quite adept at driving in harsh conditions being overly cautious when on the road. You’ll quite often take the back roads knowing there won’t be other cars.

“This is going to be a bitch driving home,” you sigh, turning around to leave when you feel something pull at the end of your jacket.

You turn around to see Wanda looking at you seriously.

“It is too dangerous to drive,” she tells you plainly.

“It’ll be fine,” you tell her with a wave, but Wanda doesn’t let go of her hold.

“I don’t know how long it’s going to pour for, and it’s already getting pretty late,” you purse your lips.

“You can stay the night.”

You think Wanda would be more reserved about you letting her invade her space. After all, she had been quite clear about wanting you to leave and that you were a nuisance, but then you see the look in her eyes and the seriousness in them.

She won’t say it, but you don’t need her to.

“Okay,” you agree gently.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

You find it kind of hard to fall asleep on Wanda’s couch. Not that it’s uncomfortable because her couch is weirdly better than your bed at home, but you can definitely hear the walls expanding and contracting and the drops of water from the sink.

You’ve probably lain in bed for hours now, wide awake. You sigh quietly, getting up and moussing your hair. You’re probably not going to get much sleep at this point, so you get up and to pour yourself a glass of water.

And then you hear it.

It’s quiet with Wanda having her door nearly shut, but the sound traveled through the small crack.

It was a groan.

And no, not a sexy groan, but a groan that indicated she might be in pain.

You bite your tongue, debating if you should go check because you’re not sure if Wanda would appreciate you entering her bedroom, but you hear her groan again and immediately go check. Opening the door slowly and quietly, your eyes try to adjust to the dark room. You do see a mass of hair in the bed and vague figure tossing and turning.

Making your way in, you kneel on the ground beside the bed, looking over at Wanda. Her face is scrunched up, a light sheen of sweat on her forehead, and lips trembling.

“Пьетро…”

It’s comes easier than you think it would to brush your cold fingers against her warm cheeks, watching as her face settles and unconsciously rub her face closer to your hand.

Honestly, it feels like someone is slamming a hammer right into your chest because you never thought seeing a stranger hurt like this could hurt you too.

Because she looks lost like you do.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷ 

Wanda can always tell if she’s had a nightmare. She wakes slowly, blinking in the dark. She feels different, but Wanda cannot exactly explain why.

Slowly getting up, she felt a weight drag on her hand.

Looking down, she noticed you sitting on the floor, hunched over her bed with your hand intertwined with hers.

Her eyes traveled over your bare shoulders and arms, noticing the lack of blood and tiny goosebumps, a sign you’ve been there for quite some time.

Wanda wriggles her fingers, feeling the warmth, and thinks about how hard it must’ve been to sit there as long as you did.

She can’t help but think how stupid you are.

But stupidly kind.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷ 

You watched Wanda’s face, dazed and stoic and pursed your lips as you finished up cooking.

Perhaps she was mad?

It felt like you did cross a line.

“Listen, Wanda—I’m sorry about the…hand-holding—”

“I’m hungry,” Wanda cuts you off, and you say nothing more but licking your lips as you bring the dishes to the table.

The two of you eat in comfortable silence until Wanda decides to break it again.

“Why three months?” She asks, stopping your spoon from entering your mouth mid-air. You put the spoon back down in your bowl and look over at her.

“I hardly think a month will change you, so I asked for three,” you say simply.

“Three months won’t change anything either,” Wanda argues back.

“Then I will just ask for more,” You scoop more food onto your spoon again. “If you’re so sure you’ll want to die, then it doesn’t quite matter if it’s a couple months later, does it? You can spare me more time, can’t you?”

Wanda bites her tongue.

“Why are you doing this?” She’s gripping her spoon harder then she means to, but she just doesn’t understand.

You look over at her thoughtfully.

“I want to know you.”

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

“Are you warm enough?” Wanda asks unsure as she looks at the blanket and pillow you’ve got on the couch.

You hum, “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Somehow, you’ve negotiated to living with her because if you want to help her, then you need to be with her. Less time together means more likely you’ll begging for more time in the end.

That’s what you told Wanda anyways, and she seemed to reluctantly agree.

Wanda walks back to her room, settling in her familiar bed and sighs as she looks at the ceiling.

All this eating together, sleeping, talking, and sharing…it was only for three months.

After three months, she can say no to more time and everything would go away.

Even though that’s what Wanda kept telling herself, she kept tossing and turning in bed. Her hand kept clenching and opening, and she already knew what she was missing—or wanted, exactly.

Wanda liked holding hands. She wanted the handholding. It felt good, the warmth and steady pressure.

It was a mix of both pride and fear that stopped her from getting out of bed to ask you. So, she lied there, thinking about with family you don’t get a choice. She would hold hands with Pietro when he cried the first time he was rejected from his dream job, or when his long-time girlfriend moved to another city. And while she was always willingly there for Pietro, she did realize one thing.

Wanda liked having the choice.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

When Wanda woke through the night again, she knew right away it was different.

She sat up and hesitantly wriggled her fingers, feeling the familiar warmth and pressure. Looking down, she found you sitting on the ground by her bedside again, the similar lack of blood and goosebumps on your arms.

The wriggling seemed to wake you slightly as you hummed quietly, eyes still closed before you intertwined your fingers more intimately. Your thumb pressing into the back of Wanda’s hand and fingers lacing together.

She lay back down facing you, watching you as your head rest on your free arm, unaware of anything.

How stupid, Wanda thought.

You were going to catch a cold like this.

But Wanda was already smiling.

PART V

[imaginesandideas]

always been you

an alternative story of Warren Worthington

pairing: Warren Worthington x reader

word count: 12.7k

content warning: depictions of wounds and injuries, mentions of violence, angst

author’s note: this is an introduction to my Professor!Warren AU series. The following part introduces Warren’s new life after the Apocalypse, his journey to self acceptance, opening up to the world and finding meaning. Little did he know that he’d find it all in one person. You.

 He was stumbling, tripping over his own feet. It felt as if darkness could swallow him whole, and in a way it did exactly that, leaving mere marionette behind. Emptied of purpose, aims, dreams. Whenever he’d roam he couldn’t stay, not for too long. Being a mutant was enough of an issue in a world full of hatred and prejudice. Who’d trust a freak with broken blades coming out of his back, all bruised and bloody. 

 “Fuck.” Warren hissed leaning against a nearby tree. 

His head was pounding, heaven knows why. Maybe it was the shitty weather, maybe alcohol, maybe all these nightmares he’s been having whenever he tried to close his eyes, maybe all of the above. Anyone else would stay away from the trees with all the lightnings gracing the sky, but really, what else could he possibly lose. If he died then, nobody would even look for him, bury him, hell, nobody would even miss him. His parents probably thought he’s been dead for years anyway so what’s the difference. He sniffled, gaze mindlessly shifting between wet grass of the field and forest. In these circumstances it seemed like an old habit. Either way he wouldn’t be even able to protect himself if someone was actually after him, but having control over his surroundings was giving him some sort of peace. Sounds funny after all he’s been through.

 Peace - he wondered closing his eyes in a selfish attempt to calm down. Selfish because he shouldn’t be allowed rest for the rest of his life. That’s what his brain would tell him. Everyday, every minute. For all the damage he’s done, for all the blood he’s shed, all the pain he’s caused. If there’s still justice anywhere in this world then it’s right here, under this tree in the middle of the storm, with nowhere else to hide. 

 It’s been minutes until he eventually passed out, remaining blades of his wings serving as additional shield. It was a loud rumble of thunder nearby that woke him. It came flashing in front of his eyes with battlefield flashbacks and ache in his back. He inhaled sharply, hands grasping at the damp soil beneath him. 

 “It’s just rain. Just some fucking rain.” He chuckled to himself. His heart rate seemed to slow down at the thought. Watery droplets run down his forehead and cheeks, nearing the corners of his mouth. He could taste his own blood, as well as salt and dirt sliding off his skin. Of course he wasn’t expecting blooming flowers on the way, but it’s been weeks since he’s had a good look at himself in the mirror and taken actual shower rather than splash water onto his sore limbs. Long months of hauling from town to town has began to bother him some time ago, mainly because now, after Apocalypse was defeated, his path was gone. Some could say he’s lost his way, but that happened long before Germany, long before all of that gore and pain.

 He could still recall his mother’s voice telling him to “find the right way” but reality where mutants are either killed or exploited struck him to the core soon after, and ever since then he just stopped looking. Why seeking the light when it doesn’t truly exist? So he started drowning in hoodlums, shady places and people who never really cared, never really stayed. Alcohol did. Only always evaporated too quickly.

 So there he was, crawling like pathetic, incomplete creature in search of someone who could put him back together. Someone who’d glue his feathers back so he could fly up to the sun one last time before crashing into the ocean. Because that’s what he was made for, right?

The loud knocking at the front door alerted everyone in the mansion. The lights were out, only few teachers awake in the kitchen and some in their rooms, most likely preparing for the next day. 

Naturally if someone dared to come knocking at this hour, it had to be something serious. Students who have woken up despite elders asking them to stay in their dorms and teachers gathered on standby. Something like this would happen so rarely that missing it would be like a crime. The thrill of uncertainty. Maybe there was some sort of danger creeping behind that door. Something to be afraid of, or something to be dwelling on during lunches or classes for the next few days, maybe even weeks. Something foreign, unknown.

 Because never in the history of Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters a young mutant whose sordid past was more than known to those residing at the mansion, had appeared at its door in the middle of the night with severe serious wounds, bloodied and dirty despite the pouring rain outside. Never, until it happened, that night.

 He was staggering and mumbling something that sounded like an apology, when deeply shocked Hank McCoy and Peter Maximoff called in to help, carried unconscious mutant to the infirmary, away from curious and concerned looks.

“Go back to your dorms. There’s nothing to look at.” The most respected voice echoed soothingly in the hallways as four men passed another set of open and half-open doors. “Everything is under control, you can go back to sleep.” 

Students moved out of their way at an instant, some willingly, some encouraged by the Professor and his powers of persuasion, to put it mildly. 

 The double door leading to the lab and infirmary closed with a thud.

“We should have just left him there! What the hell is he even doing here?! He was supposed to be dead!” Hank growled. There was no doubt that their guest was heavy. Even more so the wings attached to his back themselves. All that was shocking enough, and now they we’re forced to take care of the passed out mutant.

 Professor caught up with the men, but the hallways seemed to go on forever with the unconscious guy hanging off their backs. Maximoff was silent the entire way, only occasionally grunted from exhaustion. McCoy however was clearly distraught, agitated even. 

“He shouldn’t even be here!”

“Hank, please. I’m sure there’s a reason for him coming here right now.”

“And even more reasons to leave him at the gate.”

“Hank! For heaven’s sake, just let him explain everything once he’s more lucid.”

The mattress saged under the weight of winged mutant and both bearers moaned loudly stretching their limbs. The room was almost completely dark until Professor turned on the lamp on nightstand. Light shone down on the laying mutant and the look itself was a horror show. Though Xavier didn’t even flinch, Peter did.

“Is he even alive?”

Professor reached for the wrist of the mutant. His skin felt piercingly cold, but there was still a weak pulse.

“Barely. We need to warm him up.” He exclaimed looking at disheartened McCoy. The taller man sighed loudly. 

“Okay, but I don’t take responsibility for him and whatever he’s up to.”

“I do. Now go and bring medical kit.” Hank halfheartedly nodded. Professor turned to Maximoff which immediately caught his attention. “We’ll also need some towels, blankets and clean clothes.”

“Supply closet?”

“Precisely.”

 It all felt so natural, so casual. As if time did not exist and his whole existence has been this way forever. Freedom. All of sudden he was back in the air, flying as high as ever. He could practically feel mist of rain on his face as he was nearing the clouds. His wings were so lightweight now, like he wasn’t even flying, just floating. He really missed the feel of wind combing through his feathers, messing up hair, pushing at his chest. 

 But when did this all become so real? He couldn’t even recall the last few minutes, so where precisely did time go?

“Angel?” Eyes shot open and in a matter of seconds he was back on the ground. Trapped as he’d probably say, but the pounding in his head wouldn’t allow him to put the pieces together just yet. There had to be someone else to do it. “That’s how they call you right? You’re okay, don’t freak out! We’re here to help you.”

Muffled, yet in a way irritatingly buzzing voice was coming from his right side. The world was as blurry as reminiscence of past hours, or maybe days, he couldn’t really tell. 

“Fuck. Where am I?”

“Umm, Xavier’s? School for Gifted Youngsters. Or X-Men headquarters. Whichever you prefer.” 

As Warren was slowly regaining his vision, the source of the voice vanished only to come back later with a glass of splooshing water.

“Here.” Warren sat up and reached for the glass hesitantly. The guy looked familiar, there was definitely something about his hair and witty attitude that one could not miss. Too characteristic to overlook. “Professor will be here soon. He’s been waiting for you to wake up for days. We all did actually.”

Days. He’s been unconscious for days. And he couldn’t even remember how did he get there in the first place. 

The noise of double door being rapidly pushed open made both their heads turn. Angel suddenly froze. Memories he thought he’d gotten rid of smashed him in the face, like a bucket of icy water. Three pairs of eyes landed on him immediately, one kinder than the other. But only one pair would haunt him for the rest of his life. 

White as a chalkboard he finally realized his primary mistake. One he’ll have to deal with sooner than he’s ever expected. The past caught up with the present, and now it was heading right towards him.

A streak of light.

 What brought him here that night? He couldn’t even recall after all those years. Maybe it was destiny, maybe blind luck. But all these years ago when he landed with a loud thud on Xavier’s polished marble floors, all wet and unconscious, it was probably the best night of his life so far. The most important one for sure.

Cause everything has changed since then. Yes, he had to face the inevitable and clash his past with hope, the future he thought he couldn’t afford. But Xavier has led him the way, he’s showed him the thin line of light and gave him a chance. And for the first time in his life Warren was determined to own it.

Before he fully came back to his old self and the mutant community, he had to go through painful process of retrieving his old wings. After Apocalypse was defeated by X-Men, and therefore Angel was no longer under the effect of his power, his wings began to return to their original form. Much to Warren’s contentment, once he’d realized where cooperation with the superior mutant led him to. The process however was slow and incredibly painful. He was a mess in every sense of the word, and with Xavier’s guidance and McCoy’s wearing patience he was finally able to heal.

Before that though, he kept hiding for some time, sleeping in abandoned barns and houses in the outskirts, occasionally stealing some money or food from unsuspecting such neighbor people, or kids who went too far from their regular after-school routes. But no safe house was safe forever. Sooner or later he had to change the surroundings and look for more secure hideout, while continuously getting through the renewed process of fledgling. He was almost like that young boy many years ago. Lost, embarrassed, forsaken, left out in his pain.

Once he came to the mansion he couldn’t even remember why would he do that in the first place. But with time, and help his memory started to finally put the pieces together.

It was the other one of Apocalypse’s ex-horseman Ororo, along with that blue mutant he remembered from cage fight back in Germany, and then, from the battlefield, who’ve found him and persuaded him to give Xavier a chance to put him back together.

“Look at where you are now. How long will it last? Months? Years?” Warren was sitting on a hideous couch he’d found on the street during one of his nightly escapades. The room was dingy, dank, just as the rest of the building, which most likely served as a factory back in the day. There were empty boxes and cans busted all over the place. It didn’t feel like home. More like a detention.

Warren wasn’t necessarily fond of encountering Nightcrawler again. His shoulders and wings were tense as he glared grudgingly at the other mutant, too focused on the bitter taste of revenge creeping behind his back to even listen.

“Warren?” Storm stepped forward, regaining his attention. “Give yourself a chance. He can help you.”

“Nobody can.”

“So help yourself. Do it now before it’s too late. Please.” 

He didn’t go with them that day. Nor did he change his mind the next day. It took him few more weeks, few more dangerous circumstances to amend his attitude towards the possible prospect. 

Maybe it was the fact that he was getting tired of running away. Maybe it were his sore wings that affected his decision. But all in all he’s packed up his petty possessions and left, leaving his past behind in a way. The night he arrived at Xavier’s doorstep, he was so weak they had to carry him to the infirmary. He stayed in some sort of coma for few days. He’s never slept better in his life.

Once he’s gotten acclimated in the mansion and around other mutants, he’d have these long conversations with Professor - about life, his future, what he wanted to do now that his old life was no longer present. Warren wasn’t used to talking. Not much, not at all. Especially not about touchy subjects.

It’s all been moving forward really slowly. He’s never really felt supported by anyone, neither his parents, nor other mutants he’d met on his way of becoming who he was. He had troubles controlling his feelings. The thought of letting go and finally moving forward was utterly terrifying, cause it meant that he had to lose the meticulously crafted mask he’s been keeping on for years. It also meant that he could finally follow his dreams, and maybe that scared him even more.

  For half a year, the trauma of what happened kept coming back to him during his sleep, denying him any sort of rest. He stopped counting all the times he’s woken up in the middle of the night, breathless and covered in cold sweat. And since he could rarely sleep after his night panic attacks, he’d often end up sneaking out the mansion to fly around, sit on the roof and watch the moon till the sun began to rise. There were times when he wished he could buy himself enough alcohol to drown in it, but that was out of the question. After drinking he wouldn’t sleep at all, anxiety hitting the deepest spots within his heart. So he tried to avoid it. Ultimately, he decided to stick to the cigarettes, only occasionally reaching for a bottle in moments of withdrawal. Even if that meant side eye from teachers every now and then.

Like infection attacks immune system, Warren was forced to battle his  demons. His head was often full of doubts, even to the point of planning a way to get out of his new whereabouts and starting life from nothing. Just like he did back home in Long Island.

Xavier on the other hand, out of everyone, saw the wit and potential buried underneath the rough mask Warren chose to wear to protect himself from people. And slowly Warren opened up just enough to absorb and explore the paths of his life he thought he’d burn the bridges to. 

He refused to make friends because never really felt like he deserved them, especially among mutants aware of his history. Never feeling like he could be considered interesting, he chose to stay away from the group, only occasionally exchanging few words with Ororo, or the nosy and unfortunately ubiquitous Peter Maximoff. He was the first face Warren’s seen after regaining his consciousness after all. Others either didn’t trust him enough to share their time with him, or felt too intimidated to do so. 

Cause it wasn’t very hard to be intimidated by rather handsome, bright-eyed blonde, with wings so big he could be considered an actual angel. He wore them high and with pride, ever since he got them back. The metal ones were too heavy for him to carry. Both physically and mentally. So he was feeling like a brand new person when the last piece of metal fell of his shoulders. It has given him new, indescribable power that he had yet to figure out what to do with.

Encouraged by the professor, he decided to continue his abruptly terminated education. Due to his unsettled background, he was inclined to join younger group, the one he could keep up with, without feeling ashamed by his gaps in basic knowledge. Unsurprisingly for Xavier, he was making a lot of progress, gradually regaining his interest in school topics and also his confidence in that matter.

It was his confidence that led him into thinking that science classes, were going to be suitable for him, since he enjoyed maths as a kid. Unbeknownst to him, Xavier’s right-hand’s lessons weren’t as carefree and painless as he thought. Once on the list, he kept coming to the Friday afternoon class, as if to prove himself that he did not commit a fatal misleading. Situated in a far-back row, he used it as a opportunity to get a closer look at the people he was attending the classes with, occasionally sketching them or other random things that caught his eye. Like McCoy’s gesticulating. Perfect for practicing figures in motion.

“Warren? Hello?” Hank called out from above Warren’s clearly occupied head. The curls on his head bouncing lightly to the rhythm of song in his earpods, the black wire thoughtfully hidden underneath his  hoodie. Hank narrowed his brows. Of course he wasn’t even making notes.

“Worthington.” as if called names, Warren raised his head frowning to meet McCoy’s displeased expression and crossed arms. He never liked his name. Simply hearing it in a slightly different, more demanding tone ignited the fire in his veins. Memories of home coming up at him like daggers in reappearing in his wounds. “You’re not paying attention. Again.”

“Fuck.” Warren muttered quietly and pulled out the headphones. It was 5th time he was caught on not participating in the class. Embarrassed, he quickly gazed around the room to note that all eyes on were on him, some of them hostile, some just curious. After all he’s never really been active in the students’ group, both during and outside lectures. And he knew that watching someone else get punished was always entertaining.

And then, he caught a glimpse of what he have imagined smart eyes looked like. If he hadn’t been lost for words already, he totally was at that moment. Of course he knew them, he’d seen them many times before. But never on himself. A pair of the most beautiful eyes, framed by sleekly lifted lashes with kindness and attention beaming from underneath.

“Are you even here? Hello?” McCoy was utterly fed up at that point and Warren was snapped out of his thoughts for good.

“Yes, yes! I’m sorry. I just- I don’t even know. I should probably leave.”

“Yeah probably. And I should probably thank you for attending my classes. I bet it was a... tedious experience.” McCoy exclaimed walking backwards to his spot next to the desk. Warren let out an audible sigh and stood up to pick up his belongings. As he shoved his notebook and physics books (which were masquerading as his engagement in the topic), once again he lifted his gaze. But now the lesson was back on its previous track, and nobody dared to look in his direction. Pathetic, he thought of himself.

Throwing gym-like drawstring bag over his shoulder, he slowly headed to the door. He kept his head low, not willing to draw any more attention. The damage was done, and all he could do was make himself as unnoticeable as possible. Good thing the class wasn’t mandatory, but he could already see Xavier’s disappointed look. The doorknob squeaked and Warren bit his lip before nodding a short goodbye in McCoy’s direction. Going backwards, hand resting on the handle to pull the door to a close, he looked up from the floor. McCoy only shook his head with a huff and continued the monologue. Short glance over the people in the class, but nobody dared to give him the slightest bit of attention. Except you. The piercingly smart eyes. 

The air got stuck in his throat again, only now he came back to his senses much sooner. That is, after you smiled sincerely at him while putting a strand of hair behind your ear. Such a gentle yet casual gesture. He felt his neck turn redbrick shade of red almost immediately, and he swore he heard a loud bob of his own adam’s apple. The door slammed closed and for the 3rd time in less than 5 minutes, doctor McCoy couldn’t help the frustrated roll of his eyes.

That day Angel decided, that maybe this tiny moment was worth the agony of quantum physics.

 Weeks, months were slowly passing by in the safety of Xavier’s mansion. Not that Warren complained though, he’s missed not having to run, the silence. But it took him some time until he’s finally found a place for himself in this newfound home.

At some point Warren started spending more time in the library than in group classes, reading, going through old materials - some of them very far from topics students were meant to pass. At first, he kept coming back to avoid all the curious looks he’d get in the hallways or at the park. Only freaks spend their afternoons between the book shelves right? But in fact he preferred the peace and quiet the library always provided, and in fact, he always felt like the lectures were lacking in knowledge he desperately sought for.

That way, after he has finally loosened enough to befriend something else than books, he’s found his kind of company, consisting of school’s mightiest outcasts and truants, like Peter Maximoff himself. From brief, and rather superficial talks they shared, Warren found out that he only resided in the mansion every once in a while “killing time” as he’d joke. In a way, despite quick mutants’ naturally abrasive behaviour, Warren started to relax in his presence. Occasionally cracking a sharp joke or two, he even laughed, thus gaining more hospitable looks from others. In fact, having Maximoff and soon also Alex Summers under his wings, has provided him with a growing circle of charmed students. His tough boy facade was becoming more inviting with each passing day.

It was just another weekend, finally some time off both for the professors and the students. You were at the dining room, chatting with Ororo, laughing at some joke she just made. 

 On a day like that one everyone was likely to be spending time with less efficiency, mostly clogging time with casual talking or doing stuff you normally wouldn’t have the time to do on a schoolday. And so you were, head finally out of the books, eating lunch in the common kitchen before meeting with other girls in the park by the mansion. Ororo became your best companion so naturally, you didn’t even question her presence by your side during the day. You liked her wit and how different she was from you. How her extroverted attitude would penetrate your rather reserved shell.

You almost snorted through your nose and Warren, who’s just appeared in the doorway, couldn’t help the smile that appeared on his cheeks. Your smile was so soft and friendly. And your voice? Oh shit, he could envelope himself in it, and he would stop complaining about anything for the rest of his life. 

You scrunched your nose at the friend in front of you and shoved another spoonful of your food up your mouth, completely unaware of his dreamy eyes following your every move.

„Warren what the hell?! How much longer are we supposed to wait?”

“Huh?”

“Water, idiot. You said you’re gonna bring us something to drink. Jesus!” Peter rolled his eyes helplessly and sprinted up to the fridge to get a chilled bottle of soda. 

It was clear for a while that something was bugging Warren. There were times where he didn’t feel physically present, and boys would have to snap him out of that state by throwing pieces of paper at him during lectures, or punch him in the ribs on training classes. Somehow the most perceptive among his friends, yet it took Peter a minute, and 3 cans of rapidly drunken grape soda, to realize why Warren disappeared for much longer than he had is intended to. And why the hell was he blushing?

“No fucking way.” He half whispered, half yelled making Ororo and few other students turn in their direction for a second. That threw Warren back to reality. Peter wiped his lips with the back of his hand and placed another empty can on clear, shiny counter. Warren glared at him.

“If you wanted it fast, then you should have ran up here by yourself dickhead. I’m not some speedy-goddamn-gonzalez okay?”

“You’re so red! It’s adorable!” Warren all of sudden felt the warmth radiating off his cheeks, which only made him blush more, now that Peter have exposed him aloud. His eyes were slanting, trying to figure out if you’ve heard them or not. He noticed that Ororo was back at whatever topic you were previously discussing, and he sighed in relief. But his mind went blank again when his shifty eyes locked with yours, making him unable to move. He caught a tiny smile forming in the corners of your lips and Peter swore the boy could melt any second.

“Alright, Alex is still waiting out there. We gotta get going. Bye Ororo, bye _____!” Peter exclaimed waving to the girls, before pushing Warren out the room, and a building within 2 seconds, flipping few things with Warren’s wings in the process. But winged mutant was too enchanted to notice that.

Warren was still dizzy, his pupils blown wide and gaze absent. 

“Hey, what’s with him again? And where is my drink?” Alex came up to them, all sweaty from the extra training he decided to do, brows forming in a frown. Peter was laughing breathlessly.

“Dude, if you’ve only seen that!”

Alex’s fingers in front of Warren’s face snapped him back to reality.

„What?”

„Where were you even? Because sure as hell not here.”

Peter snorted again, earning a look from now tensed Warren.

“Okay okay! Don’t look at me like that, jeez. He got... lost.” Maximoff explained, hands raising in surrender. Warren was back to being his grumpy, neurotic self and Peter wouldn’t want to risk him blowing up. “... in _____’s eyes.”

Warren was already lashing out, fists clenched but the silver-headed boy was obviously faster, leaving Warren yet again on the losing end.

“Goddammit.” He swore under his breath, lips soon pressed together, fully aware of the fact that he could no longer hear him.

 Within next months, and despite his strenuous efforts to deny it, Warren fell head over heels. Your looks and intellect turned out to be barely cherries on top of your other traits. He couldn’t even count all the situations where he’d seen you helping out some other student with their homework or organizing science projects. He’s grown attached to seeing you in the library, surrounded by books he wouldn’t even dare to understand. He could stare at you for hours, while you’d just flip dozens of pages frowning, way too engrossed in the reading to notice his broad frame curled on the sofa. By the time of few months he’s spent there, he could list all the birthmarks and freckles on your face. He’s learned the way daylight adorned your face as you rapidly turn pages of different encyclopaedic papers. Or how you’d bit your lip while reading in a booth in the opposite corner. And how strands of hair would overshadow your vision just for a moment, before you’d gently tuck them behind your ear.

It’s been like this a while - just occasional small talks, him asking to borrow your philosophy books, even though you knew he’d never really read them. You rarely had classes together, but when you did, he couldn’t focus on the subject too much. He was far more committed to perfecting the sketch of your profile while you talked out some upcoming projects with other student in the front row. Old habits of sitting in the far back, dying hard.

 From time to time, he’d gain enough confidence to sit in with you at the library. He felt more comfortable without any witnesses around, nobody to gossip. He’d have never forgiven himself if he ruined your reputation with his bare presence.

”Umm, hey _____.” you looked up from your history papers, a pen dangling dangerously from between your lips. You raised both eyebrows not really expecting anyone wanting something from you, especially after classes when everyone was anything but interested in scientific-related topics. 

Nevertheless you recognised the guy instantly. His frizzy hair and feathers were illuminated by warmth of late evening sunlight coming through the window, enlightening his face like a halo. The angel boy.

”Hey.” you spoke up, sweet smile lighting up your face enough to make Warren’s head spin. And it almost did.

“I, well, uh. Sorry, you probably don’t remember me. We’re having literature, English and philosophy together and-“

”I remember. Who wouldn’t remember you.” another gentle smile and Warren’s heart sped up. You remembered. But why, did he do something stupid now? Fuck. Of course. It was the wings again. “You’re always sitting in the back, alone. Haven’t seen you talking to anyone much.” He stayed still as if shot in the back, pretty sure that Maximoff would probably do that if ever given a chance. Especially now. Right in front of you. Like a goddamn cupid or some other romanticised bullshit. 

“Erm, well...” he rubbed the column of his neck. “I don’t like to draw attention.” 

“I can imagine that.” Your gaze wandered gently over the bones of his wings. You could only imagine the pain he went through to get the feathers back. “Your wings look great though. Make you look reliable."

”I’ve never met a person who’d say that I look reliable.”

”Maybe you just did.” You bit your lip, blushing at your very own and unexpected wave of confidence. As you looked down he bit his lip grinning like a madman. So it wasn’t that bad. He wasn’t that bad. A fully loaded train of thoughts was going around his head. She’s smiling right? That’s good, maybe. No, no, don’t rush anything, yeah. Let’s keep it cool. Don’t fuck it up, don’t fuck it up, DON’T FUCK IT UP.

”Anyway.” he let out a small huff. His neck was getting more and more red, along with the temperature under his velvety woollen sweater. What now? “I just wanted to say hi, cause I see you around here quite often. See you around then yeah?” He was already backing away.

”Sure. And you can always sit by you know? I don’t bite.” He let out a nervous chuckle but straightened his posture nevertheless. What could go wrong now.

”But I might.” His eyes were hazy as he held a book in one hand walking backwards to the door, nearly tripping over corner of a carpet. You snorted unable to stifle a laugh. Both at his words and sight. He was completely red by then, only waving a quick goodbye and shutting the door closed behind him, something you’ve learned was a habit of his whenever he was being extremely flustered. And he was only ever so flustered around you.

 One could say, for a fact, that Warren looked extremely intimidating. With that nonchalant look, a bit buff posture and frown written all over his face for most of the time. And you felt intimidated too. By his a tad careless persona, by the way he walked - with such confidence that you could only wish you could achieve it one day. He was embodiment of that gloomy kind of charm, the one that attracts people in a heartbeat. Golden heart hidden behind uptight facade that is yet to be discovered. But you couldn’t simply overlook that his entire attitude has changed. It softened, as if someone polished his rough edges.

That certain someone, though you weren’t really aware of it, was you. He’d never admit that, not at loud, not around you. Hell, he wouldn’t even dare to ask you out. He was tongue-tied, utterly terrified that you’d surely reject him.

“She’s out of my league man, so bloody cool and intelligent. There’s no way she’d let me even hold her books on the way out of the class.”

“I agree about the out-of-league thing. You WISH you were half as cool and intelligent.” Teased Peter, earning a punch in the rib cage. The boys were sat on the bench in the park surrounding the mansion. Alex was chewing on his lip, Warren had his arms crossed over the chest and Peter was just classic Peter, sprawled wide across the seat and occupying half of the bench. This time however they were accompanied by Alexs’ younger brother Scott who - thanks to Peter, wasn’t allowed to sit, instead forced to crouch down on the concrete of the alley. 

Once the boys had realized what was the reason behind Warren’s sudden change of attitude, he was forced to reveal the truth. He wouldn’t be able to deal with it on his own after all. But Alex was slowly getting tired of hearing Warren’s constant whining.

“She suggested that she could use your company at the library right? You just overanalyze it too much.”

“I disagree!”

“Peter, please. We’re trying to get him out of his feathery shell, okay? I know you like to hassle him, but I swear it’s becoming pretty annoying.”

 Peter groaned and laid down again. Warren had a worried expression on his face. It didn’t even bother him when his silver-haired friend was being nasty to him. It was a thing you’d either had to get used to, or ignore, but at the moment he just stopped noticing. He wanted to make you notice him. His best self, how he wanted to be for you. During past months he talked to you like, 5 times maybe. Partially because he couldn’t say much, your proximity depriving him of words that’d even make any sense. He got interested in many subjects he never found entertaining, just because you were attending them. 

He’d sit in the second to last row, and observe how you’d answer to all the questions or discuss debated topic. He signed up for literature and classic theatre classes, but never actively participated. And it wasn’t like he didn’t want to, he was just sure that he’d embarrass himself. And what a failure would that be to be ridiculed in front of you. A disaster. That’s how he was feeling about himself.

“You need to talk to the chick more. If you’ll keep your mouth shut it’s not gonna end up anywhere near your bed, I’m telling you.”

“Not everything revolves around shagging Summers! She’s... she’s. Ugh. She’s special mate.”

Warren leaned forward, resting his cheek on one of his balled hands. 

“Get your wings off my view, will you?”

“Uh, sorry.” He said, already getting up, suddenly very aware of how his mutation was forbidding him from feeling fully comfortable at all times. Another one of his issues with getting to know you. What if you hated his wings just as much as he did. He wouldn’t be able to handle that.

“It’s fine, don’t be so touchy man. I didn’t tell you to piss off.”

“‘M sorry.”

“Aaand he’s apologizing again! Seriously, what the fuck man. Did someone replace you?” Peter exclaimed loudly sitting up, amazed expression on his face.

“Warren you really need to chill. Get that stick you’re keeping inside out, cause she’ll never, EVER talk to you.”

“Where did you loose your confidence even?”

Warren’s wings were hanging low off his shoulders which were also almost dangling now, making him look so much smaller, so powerless. He sighed. 

“Is he always like this?” Scott finally spoke up pointing at Angel who was now standing next to him.

“No. Someone definitely replaced him. Her name is _____.”

“Oh shut up Maximoff! I’m over your damn bantering.” Warren suddenly tensed, ready to throw hands with his friend. “I’m out. Speak ill of her as much as you please while I’m gone, but I swear I’ll kick your bloody arse if I ever hear anything about her in my presence.” He exclaimed in a raised tone before backing out the spot.

“Come on! We’re trying to help you out!” But he flied up and out of their sight, just to save some time and his own patience. 

 Being himself without the constant feeling of not being enough creeping behind his back was incredibly hard, probably even harder than getting rid of his metal wings.

The feeling of abandonment was continuously present throughout his life, and maybe that’s why it was so tough for him to let go. Warren wasn’t and could never be as light hearted as Peter. He could act confidence in front of other students, hell, even in front of teachers. But you were always making him feel so vulnerable that it almost made him sick. Nobody would like a sappy, doe-eyed Worthington...

”Warren?” Upon hearing your voice he froze in his tracks. How long has he been up here on the roof? Minutes? An hour? And who told you he’d be here? “Are you okay?”

”Uhm, yeah, yeah!” He turned around still facing his sneakers. He didn’t dare to look up at you, as if ashamed of something he hasn’t even done yet. 

“You sure?” 

“Yeah. I was just... contemplating.” 

“Well that’s nice.” You said shrugging. The roof was the most perfect spot for contemplating away from others. Sure, it was fun to hang around with other students, friends but everyone needs some time off. And despite all the visible changes in his behavior, you knew Warren well enough to realize that he needed his alone time more than others. „Can I sit next to you?”

„S-sure!” He blurted out suddenly very aware of your presence. 

You stepped close to the edge and slowly crouched down bringing your knees close to your chest. Warren was sat with his knees dangling off the edge. He tried to seem as casual as ever, but there was something off in his attitude.

He was feeling so stupid with all this. How much he wanted you to notice him trying, how much he was afraid of you possibly rejecting him. How fucking much he cared about you, about your opinion. How you were the only person for whom he wanted to change. 

You were the dream person in his life he never thought he deserved, yet there you were, one next to the other, awkwardly waiting for someone to finally speak up. You cleared your throat.

„If there’s any-”

„I wa- Fuck, _____ I’m sorry, I interrupted you.”

„No, no it’s fine! It’s my fault!”

„No, I just-”

„Warren, it’s fine. Please continue, I’d love to hear it.”

No you wouldn’t, he thought to himself. 

„Well, I-” He started turning his face back to you. And all of a sudden he was a goner. None of that mattered because you were actually there. You, just you. You and your curious eyes, your offering smile. „I- damn it. I completely forgot what was on my mind, you know?”

No he didn’t. You were on his mind. As always.

„Seriously? Worthington we need to work on your short-term memory.” You teased chuckling.

You gazed at the park below. From up there it was far more alluring than back on the ground, and you couldn’t help but wonder if that’s something similar to what Warren was experiencing while flying. Everything was the same, yet in a way different, minor even. Maybe that’s why he fancied sitting on the roof so much. All problems seemed small and distant.

You glanced back at him but he’s turned away from you. He’s been distant lately. It’s not like you were best friends or anything, but you really enjoyed his company and something was definitely off. You decided to break the silence.

„Well, either way looks like I’ll need to say my thing first then.” You exclaim as casually as possible and sigh. „I know you’re not into working in groups that much, but… um, there’s this international contest and I just thought, you know, that we could apply together-"

„W-why would yo- me?”

„Yeah why not.” You chuckled and his face softened slowly. „You’re- you’re my friend, and I think we could only benefit from this. Of course if you don’t want to it’s totally fine!”

„No no! It sounds… cool!”

„It really does!” He gazed up at you and that glint in your eyes… As if your eyes sparkled with the most rare shade of joy mixed with excitement and, and- adoration? No, you were just keen on joining the project…right?

Warren scratched his neck nervously.

„Well, I guess you’ll have to get me acquainted with everything.” You just nodded and he decided to play along. „Cause you know, I’m kinda dumb. Bird brain and everything.”

Your body trembled with soft laugh.

„You’re not, silly. Birds are smart too. You’d know if you listened in biology class last month.” Hurriedly you moved to stand up, Warren’s eyes followed your every move. "Wait for me in the library after classes tomorrow? I'll explain everything to you, and maybe we'll start planning already?"

"Sure!"

You smiled again.

"Great."

In a way he was expecting you to laugh at him some more but your next words caught him off guard.

„You’re much smarter than you think Warren. Don't sell yourself short and you’ll get further than most of us here. For real.” 

You finished the last sentence with the gentlest smile and winked before walking back to the ladder. Warren was in complete awe.

It took him a couple more seconds to pick the pieces together and then you were gone, behind the wall, possibly stepping down the hallway by then, but finally he’s realized that maybe, just maybe, you were right. And the fact itself of you believing in him? At that moment felt as if it was enough to keep him up in the sky for the rest of his life. 

 Angel gazed down at the park again. But he was smiling, brighter than ever before. Like the sunset that enfolds the day. Like the lamp lit in the corner of a dark room. 

Like a promise. Of better days to come.

Sooner than he would have ever imagined...

„Stop it you idiot! You’re gonna make me fall!” You shrieked  holding onto Warren’s arms.

„Never princess.” 

His hold on you tightened and you lifted off. You couldn’t even look down you were so petrified. Both of the possibility of falling and the height. But being in Warren’s embrace felt nice, comforting. As if nothing could go wrong.

„You alright out there?” Warren asked nudging your side gently and you slowly looked up. His eyes seemed to match the shade of sky, so bright and clear, with rays of sunshine streaking across the blue. For a second you thought you’ve seen your own reflection in them, like in the tile of the mirror. His excitement was mirroring your own.

Suddenly he slowed down to a stop in midair with his wings spread wide and flapping to maintain altitude.

You were staring. And blushing.

„Y-yeah, I’m scared of looking down though.”

„Then don’t. Look at me.” He smiled slightly as his cheeks turned pink. His arms wrapped around you a bit tighter. „You’re safe with me.”

„I know.” You beamed. Though the small jump of his Adam’s apple didn’t go unnoticed to you. 

„Shall we come down?”

„Yeah, I’d really like that actually. I think I prefer watching you from the ground.”

„Oh, so that’s how we’re talking now? Maybe dine me first.” Warren smirked and you were quick to look away. „I’m kidding, I’m kidding! Always so down to Earth huh?” He grinned and you scoffed a little offended.

„It’s only fair if you’ve got head in the clouds. I’m bringing balance to this duo.” 

 Over the past couple weeks you’ve gotten so close to each other that one could simply assume there’s something actually going on between you. Because in a way it was.

Ever since the rooftop conversation you became inseparable. It was still nice to hang out with other friends, but if Warren was to choose between your bantering in the park and attempting to play ping pong with Peter, it had to be you. Warren could listen you talk about poetry and explain whatever Xavier meant by colonial expansion for hours. It was easy to forget about all the other things with you. Of course the project itself was a good chance to get to know each other more. And so you’ve found out about Warren’s hidden talent for drawing, his favourite bands, and his passion for classicism, especially sculpture.

„Really? I mean, it makes sense but-”

„What do you mean <<makes sense>>?” Warren frowned and laughed dryly, as if someone just saw right through him. 

It was another evening in the park. The idea was to study in an open air but obviously you failed and again ended up talking life, both of you stretched out on a blanket and your paperwork.

You only exhaled loudly.

„Uh, you know. You kind of look like one of those yourself.”

„The sculptures?”

„Don’t make me say it.” Warren shot you a glance.

„Come on, please! Tell me I look like a greek sculpture.” Warren teased and continued his exaggerated flexing. Of course he looked as if gods themselves carved him out of marble, but you were just going to feed his sweet vanity. „We both know the truth, just say it. Tell me I’m the Apollo to your Athena!” You could've sworn you almost bugged your eyes out.

„You crave validation so hard Worthington? Also, who told you I’m the Athena type?!”

„You’re the smart one. The smartest in fact.”

„Don’t pander to me now. It’s flattering but…” You responded lowering your voice. „… I always felt like that forest one.”

„Artemis?”

„Is she the one with the arch? And animals? Alone in the woods? Then yeah, that one.” 

Warren exhaled and leaned back on the blanket. You could already feel the punch coming...

„Makes sense.”

„Wha-? Oh fuck you Warren! Playing my game against me now? Not fun.” But he only kept on laughing.

„It’s always fun if I’m doing it!” You groaned and punched him in the ribcage lightly. „You like it! I know you do! And now you won’t be able to stop thinking about it, and you won’t be able to fall asleep cause you’ll keep thinking what that winged weirdo meant, and then you’ll call me, wake up everyone in the mansion cause you’re so damn desperate to know.”

„I hate how well you know me.”

„Love you too.”

 It still felt so odd to hear it from him. For both of you. It all still felt so fresh, so new and… unexpected. Cause after all you’ve heard about him you never thought you’d end up genuinely liking the guy. And then you became his closest friend, and you liked that too.

Warren was sweet and fun to be around. Once he’s opened up about his struggles and worries, once he’s learnt to trust you it became easier for him to loosen up. He felt safe in your presence. And he actually started noticing that slight change in his behaviour. How he came to the realization remained a mystery. Maybe it was just another day with you in the library, your quiet laugh at his pathetic joke, how he no longer cared if someone was sending him unpleasant looks when you were with him, your cute little notes you were leaving him in the books he borrowed from you and his doodles you were getting with the books in return.

Both notes and doodles on loose pieces of paper of course, you taught him to respect textbooks with all the knowledge they carry. Another thing you've taught him over time. Still, he wouldn’t have admitted that he’s gotten soft to anyone. Well, maybe you. Only you. It came so naturally, like a breath of fresh air and he took it, and he couldn’t get enough. Couldn’t get enough of you in his life.

 So when you’ve finally wrapped up on your project he decided to do something to celebrate it, to thank you for everything. Out of all the students you were one of the only ones to make it before the deadline, and with all the time you’ve spent off-topic it was a huge success. Despite this you refused to organize a party, not yet, not before the results would come. And Warren didn’t complain, in fact he wanted to make it special.

“A book?! As if she hasn’t got enough of those already…”

“Come on Ororo, help a guy out! What kind of book might she need?”

Ororo let out a sigh and leaned back against the wall. They just left biology class during which Warren was so insistent on sitting with her that it was almost suspicious, until it wasn’t, cause his nagging mouth wouldn’t shut up about his idea to gift you with something.

“It’s not her birthday or anything, so what’s the rush?” Warren groaned in response, way too loud for his liking so he was quick to look around before he gave Ororo a proper response, this time quieter.

“I just wanna give her something okay?”

“Okay, okay! Chill! It’s gotta be a book?”

“I mean, she likes them, right. And I’m pretty sure she won’t mind having another one.” The reasoning was deeper than that though.

Warren wanted to give you a book, cause that was the thing that brought the two of you together. For all the books he’s borrowed, for all the books you’ve been reading together for your project, for the books you’ve recommended him and all the books you’ve given him and the ones he’s learnt to love thanks to you. 

Ororo frowned thinking.

“What about mythology?”

“What?”

“Mythology Warren. She likes mythology doesn’t she? I’m pretty damn sure she was looking for something about mythology last month but she dropped the idea because of the project. You know, setting your priorities kinda thing.”

Ah yes! You did talk about correlations between ancient cultures and art one of those days. How come he missed that part.

“You’re a genius ‘Ro!” Warren whisper-yelled already backing out the hallway. “Just don’t say a word!”

Ororo mumbled something in return but Warren was too excited to listen. He was about to get you the best present in the whole universe. Or at least in Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters.

 How did Warren Kenneth Worthington persuade the librarian to order two copies of new edition of mythology encyclopedia instead of one was a mystery. But there he was, strolling down one of the alleyways in the park where you were supposed to meet before the party. The results came in today, but Professor insisted to present them during the celebration, just in case of someone failing. That way there’d be no winners, just everyone celebrating the journey. It was fair and in a way forced a prom-like occasion, only there was no actual dress code, just everyone dressing more elegantly and having fun. 

It was 4 minutes past 7pm and Warren was starting to get nervous. It was silly, but all of a sudden he was feeling like all this wasn’t about the party anymore. He just wanted to see you, maybe finally ask you out after both of you’ve had a punch. Or two… But you would never be late, something must have happened. Maybe you went straight to the dance hall, maybe-

“Hi there Angel.” Warren turned around and there you were, walking up his way wearing that radiant smile of yours. “Looking dashing I see.”

Considering all the possible outcomes of this evening Warren has decided to wear something more fancy than his usual attire and in exchange he went for a tailored set - black shirt and suit pants, the only one he owned. He got them long time ago but somehow they still fitted him. He blamed his mutation for it, but it felt nice to know that despite all the changes in his life, both the exterior and inferior ones, there was still that part of him that was left unchanged. And he enjoyed that stability. 

As for the outfit, he decided to keep the boots. Another constant he couldn’t let go of. Besides, he didn’t want to look like he was trying too hard, you’d probably think he was being a poser anyway. Better keep the loose facade, at least for the time being.

“Uh, you like it? Thought if we’re about to celebrate… something, I might as well dress up like it, y’know.” Your lips curled in a smile again.

“It’s nice. Very grown up mister Worthington.” Warren couldn’t help but roll his eyes a bit at your remark. But his whole face and neck was covered in a faint blush, the kind of blush that only accentuated his tiny freckles. You thought that it was cute, but Warren was glad you weren’t able to tell how fast his heartbeat has gotten.

Finally his attention shifted to you and fuck he was so doomed. It wasn’t like you haven’t dressed nicely before, in fact, you were one of very few people who managed to look great both in school uniform and casual attire. It’s just that your hair, your face, fuck, ALL of you... you just took his breath away.

“I- I mean, it’s nothing in comparison to you though.”

You exhaled with slight tension on the edge.

“It’s just clothes you know. And they’re not even mine.” You replied glancing down at your outfit. “I borrowed this from Jean, and those from Jubilee. Didn’t want for anyone to think I always dress up like a nerd.”

“I’m not anyone.”

You looked up at him and he was no longer blushing, the shade faded away into something more rich. It was like his lips have absorbed most of the color and you just couldn’t stop focusing your attention on them. Even his usually bright eyes have gotten darker, like his pupils have blown up making space for a perfect reflection of your face in them. Gloomy and tempting.

Warren suddenly cleared his throat and you backed away bolted upon realizing how close you two were standing.

“I, uh, I’ve got something for you. Just in case we didn’t win or something.” Oh, so that’s why he’s been keeping one hand behind his back the whole time. Wings were a perfect cover. What a lucky bastard.

“Warren, you didn’t need to you.”

“But I wanted to!”

“It’s not fair, I didn’t buy you anything.”

“But you did give me so much. Let me just thank you for it.” He said leaning forward just a bit before a neatly wrapped package appeared in front of your eyes. Warren continued. “Project aside, I really owe you so much and I don’t think I’d be able to do all these things without your help. Anyway, you know I’m not good at talking. Not when you can do it better, so please accept this as my gift. For the past, for what’s now.” And for the future, he thought, but it got stuck in his throat. That’d have sounded too sappy, over the top, pretendious.

“What about the future? I need an insurance in case of your antics blowing up again. Unless you don’t want to hang out anymore, now that we don’t have a scientific reason for it.”

“Oh fuck yes I want! I mean- Yeah! Of course.” Your laugh rang in his ears.

“I’m liking this enthusiasm.” You smirked as Warren handed you the package. It was quite heavy, but not stone kind of heavy. It had some lightness to it, yet imitated a brick-like form. Definitely not something you could expect.

Or could you?

“Is it a book?”

“Please say that you’re not Athena one more time and I’ll fucking explode.”

“It is a book!” You squealed excitedly and started rapidly unwrapping, careful not to tear the silver, shimmery paper. “And just because I guessed correctly I’m not Athena. If anything I’m Pythia.”

“Yeah yeah.” Smartass. Or Ororo is just another traitor. 

Warren sighed, but despite all the efforts to stay serious he just couldn’t stop smiling. Seeing you so joyous, so radiant and all blooming was making his heart grow. Yeah he could just love you, just like that, if only you’d let him.

“You didn’t! You fucking maniac!” 

Warren was suddenly pulled away from his thoughts by your loud groan. Fuck, not good.

“What the- For fucks sake! How much?!”

“H- How much what?”

“Money! Or, I don’t know, gold… fucking silverware! And most importantly - how did you manage to get the first edition of 'New Larousse encyclopedia of mythology'?!”

Warren sighed with relief.

“I, uh… it’s a secret?”

“Come on! It was released like a week ago!”

“Nuh-uh, I’m not tellin’. Do you like it at least?”

“Like it? Warren I fucking love it! I thought I’m never going to get one of my own, and now you just come up to me like it’s no big deal.”

And when you looked up at him he was wearing that dopey smile of his.

“Cause it really isn’t a big deal. I just thought that’d you’d like it and-“

You didn’t even let him finish as you jumped at him, wrapping your arms around his torso in a hug. Warren has never actually felt his heart stop, but this single moment was pretty close to it. And he felt silly, he felt stupid. So fucking in love with you that he couldn't even express it, too afraid that he's ruin it. That you'll disappear, like another memory.

With shaky fingers he reached to caress your cheek and you looked up.

"There you are guys!" Out of thin air appeared Peter, his neatly styled hair only slightly ruined by the running. No hairspray could tame those waves of his. "Smooch later, Xavier's about to present the results."

Gently you pulled away, your cheeks were flush just a tiniest bit. Warren tried to keep his posture stiff, but your eyes kept meeting and you just couldn't stop smiling at that, which was making him smile too. 

"Uhm, I guess we'll talk later then." Warren murmured and Peter rolled his eyes. He might have muttered something before speeding off back to the mansion.

"Yeah we better hurry up." You teased nudging his arm with your shoulder.

The walk back inside was rather awkward, but you couldn't quite decide why. The interruption sounded like a reasonable explanation, but thinking about what did Peter actually interrupt was even harder to grasp. Regardless, just before both of you entered the building you grabbed Warren by the arm and he stopped in his tracks confused.

“About earlier...Thank you War. Really. For everything."

And just like that your soft lips planted the softest kiss on the corner of his lips. So close he had half a mind to turn his head ever so slightly and make it proper, yet it felt wrong, like he wasn't himself ready for it yet. As if this meant so much more than what he's ever wanted. Cause it was coming from you. Genuine, like a whisper, a promise.

You pulled away, eyes sparkly as ever. Warren cleared his throat and reached out to rub his neck, the way he always did, but then for the first time he didn't. With cheeks flush pink he straightened his posture and reached for the doorknob inviting you in.

„My lady..."

"Sir." You bowed a little to play along. And fuck what anyone would say, he could wear that blush on his face for the rest of his life if it meant having you by his side, gentle and playful.

Only who could've guessed the future...

 Upon entering the hall you notice that everyone has gathered near the podium, where Xavier was presenting the results. You and Warren looked at each other knowingly and approached the scene. You were visibly tense, both of you worked so hard and now that the prize was within your reach you were afraid of disappointment. Not even your own, gods no, you were afraid that Warren would be disappointed. That all this time was wasted, that he’d think that all this was just a waste of time. That he’s wasted his time for pointless project, for you.

“But before I ask the winners to join me on stage allow me to congratulate each and every participant. This incredible opportunity and your involvement means very much, especially for our community. And for us, your teachers, for me, you’re all winners. Give yourselves a round of applause.”

You gazed up at Warren and he was already smiling softly at you. Cause Xavier, for once, was absolutely right, and no matter the results it was worth it. 

And as if he knew that you were doubting yourself he gently took your hand in his. You heard him inhale shakily, but you couldn’t tell if the anxiety of waiting was the true reason. Maybe you didn’t want to know, maybe you just wanted him to hold your hand, just like that, with his fingers tracing encouraging traces on the back of your hand. It’s going to be fine.

“Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls. Among the winning teams we have...”

You took a deep breath and felt Warren’s grip on your hand tighten ever so little.

“... Jean Grey and Jubilation Lee! Applause for the ladies!” You couldn’t help the smile that grew on your face with each name. You knew how hard they worked so hearing your friends cheer after their well-deserved win was making you happy too. Somewhere in the crowd you spotted Scott and Warren exchanging knowing glances. 

“And now, the last but absolutely not least deserving team…” 

All the clapping and cheering were ringing in your ears. And you could hardly see the front with everyone blocking your vision with their hands and enthusiastic jumping. You were grateful for Warren’s wings protecting you from being squished from the sides. “ _____ and Warren! Come up on the stage!”

In a flash you were pulled back into the place. It seemed like milliseconds were stretched out to minutes. Warren’s googly eyes were at you shortly before his hold on your hand loosened. Though he didn’t even give you time to react because he was already pulling you into a hug while already twirling both of you, successfully dispersing the crowd.

Triumph. And yet, it felt so unexpected. 

“Hey, hey! Are you okay princess?” You didn’t realize you stopped blinking until your vision got blurry and suddenly Warrens’s concerned frown was mere inches from yours.

“Y-yeah? Did we?”

“Win?” You caught that glimpse of excitement in his eyes, the sparkle that made Warren... Warren. And you didn’t even need words anymore, but they came and suddenly everything had a totally different meaning. “Yes silly!  We won! We won baby!”

 Your brain would race, it would run off to many different places, distant thoughts, memories and old experiences you weren’t able to describe in detail, except for those tiny scraps of words and images. Like frames of a film. Life’s moving so fast.

 It’s only been a week since presenting of the results but the memory itself was still so vivid. But you could only see one face, the one in front of you, the one you were planning your travel with. 

“When are we leaving again?”

You couldn’t help the involuntary roll of your eyes.

“2 weeks Warren. We’re leaving in 2 weeks. Now, can we get back to plans? We need a schedule if we want to meet during the weekends.”

Exaggerated sigh.

“Couldn’t you just pick the same uni?”

“You’re not just asking me to choose Kensington over Brighton.”

“What if I am?”

You shot him a glare but despite your efforts to play it off you didn’t miss the glint of sincerity in his eyes.

It was quite a challenge to keep your relationship the way it was after that evening in the park. And Warren was doing everything in his power to crack it. Break the established boundaries. Not that anyone has actually set them and obviously he didn’t mean to rush anything, he respected you far too much to do so. 

“I didn’t even apply there, it would make no sense if I would do it now.”

He perked up.

“But you’re considering it!”

“Oh gods… you know what? I would, but just because of you. Kensington wasn’t even in my plans.” You said and glued your eyes back to the papers spread between your bodies on the bench. Luckily the day wasn’t too windy so you were able to use some of the afternoon sun and organize your leave in more pleasant conditions. “And… you’ll be my only friend out there…”

The inevitable. Leaving familiar community for the sake of brand new experience. For the sake of possible personal growth. It was hard enough for you, but for Warren? 

Since joining the mutant underground he’s been doing everything and nothing in particular, all at once. He didn’t belong back home, among his family members, but he didn’t belong on the streets or cage-fighting either. Until then it’s all been downs and illusory ups. And whether he initially had rejected the idea or not, he’s found his place. And he was about to leave it for a while, leave America. He was wondering if it was just his mind playing with him all over again, or was it really the end of an era. He was about to leave the past behind completely. And you wouldn't be there with him, not within his reach.

“You know, I could always fly up to you. Like, Kensington during the day-“

“It’s 2 hours away. By car.”

“But I would stay the night! And we could spend the weekends by the sea. Studying!”  Warren emphasized with a rise of index finger. You smiled involuntarily. Classic Worthington. But when did he become so positive.

“Where did the real Warren go? I’m pretty sure you’re a clone, only more upbeat.”

You gazed up at his face and he was smiling. Only sadder.

“Hopefully I’m not evil clone.” He spoke up searching for your hand. Gently he nudged it. “I’ve changed. I don’t want to be unhappy anymore. I kinda think I won’t be able to if I keep you around. You’re like… my lucky charm or something.”

Another smile. And you were blushing a tiniest bit.

“The credit goes entirely to you War.” You exclaimed but your eyes remained glued to the bench, afraid that if you looked into those eyes one more time you’d actually break. Swallowing hard you straightened your posture. “Either way we’ve chosen different spots, but hopefully we’ll manage to meet sometime.” You faked a smile and Warren just nodded. He knew you better than to blindly believe in your optimism but he ran out of words to say.

Things will work out. Or you’ll make them work out. Somehow, someday.

 Weeks run by so fast. Even faster than days. You were packed up, slightly dizzy after farewell bash that Peter has managed to organize together with your mutual friends, and almost ready to go.

Given the character of the universities both of you’ve chosen and the grim reality of life as a mutant, you were meant to fly a special airline. Warren would often jokingly brag about how he could literally fly there on his own if only Xavier wasn’t so insistent on paying for your flight. You were far more pragmatic. Your abilities didn’t include flying or such long-distance teleportation, and even if they did you wouldn’t take that risk. Of course Warren was only playing but deep down you had that tightening feeling that something was about to blow up. And it was getting tighter and tighter with each passing day…

“You up?” You heard a muffled voice preceded by a knock from behind your door. 

By then you were left with finishing off the cleaning up your dorm room. After all it was hard to tell when you’d be coming back. Or if you were coming back at all… Might as well leave it as 'tabula rasa' as possible.

Another knock and you rushed to the door. Warren was biting his bottom lip in an attempt to contain his excitement, but his pose was saying something different. The old combat boots on his impatient heels were visibly polished for the occasion. You smirked at his choice of jacket though. It was that jean one with faux fur inside that you'd suggested him to buy once. Probably not that questionable choice considering London and its weather, where you were supposed to be landing. And for once he wasn’t wearing black pants but instead hardly ripped, simple jeans.

You were looking him up and down and he noticed it. Warren liked to joke that you were actually checking him out when you looked at him like that. Who knows, maybe you did.

“Gotta make an impression.” He said loud enough to bring your attention back to his face. He spread his arms and wings as if to emphasize his words.

“Uhm, and what kind of impression you wanted to make here?” You voiced your concerns waving your hand around. Warren frowned.

“Uh… artistry? I tried okay! I do have some family there but it’s not like I know everything about European fashion inherently.”

You let out an audible snort. Sometimes you really thought that Warren could sense your fears and therefore would always show up with his inimitable humor and helplessly silly comments. Always there to cheer you up when you were sad. Like an actual angel.

“Anyway, I decided to check up on you, but looks like you’re ready to go.” Warren pointed at the set of luggage by the wall.

“Yyyeah.” You stated hesitantly gluing your eyes to the floor and he nudged your chin gently so you’d look up at him again.

“You sure? You know you can tell me if something’s wrong.”

“It’s just… I don’t know. A feeling.” 

And he didn’t dig it up. Like he knew it was pointless, like he knew you wouldn’t be able to explain. 

Like you were more than just friends. 

So he just hugged you, just like you did back then in the park. Swallowed the urge to tell you how he really felt. Cause eventually he’d be able to tell you, and you needed his support. Safe with his arms engulfing you. And for that brief moment in your life your worries have melted away, somewhere where they couldn’t reach you. 

  After drawn-out hug session with your friends and receiving much needed words of support from the Professor and other teachers you were good to go. Well, maybe not good, but fine. Xavier insisted on driving you to the airport along with McCoy. You could tell that it had something to do with your inner concerns, but Warren seemed oblivious to it. All the way to the airport you two barely talked, but at some point Warren sneaked his hand around yours and you reciprocated by intertwining your fingers with his. Memories of the first time you held hands clouded your mind creating a wave of peace. Because with him everything seemed so easy, you felt as if nothing could crush you, not if he’s been through it and came back. You’ve come to meet the hell he’s been through via his words, the nightmares he’s allowed you to see. It made you appreciate your life more. Your life and him, his strength and will to fight back his demons.

His presence in your life seemed like that missing puzzle, and he very much felt the same way. But what if one day the image falls apart?

 The closer to the airport you were getting, the worse you felt. You didn’t feel sick, no, it was merely physical. It just felt as if something within you, something invisible, was being torn apart. Softly you let go of Warren’s hand, afraid that he could sense something and ask questions. You had to be brave, it was just a trip, an internship, nothing permanent you kept repeating yourself, but it wasn’t just stress of the travel. Something was happening and you couldn’t control it. A distant sensation, yet so close to your own heart you could feel it tear open.

Once you got to the airport it became unbearable, so overwhelming you had to excuse yourself to the restroom. The tension was increasingly climbing up your back, tensing the muscles around your spine and neck. And the buzz ringing in your ears, like a stun that only kept on growing and blocking you from your surroundings. 

You couldn’t even see the people throwing looks in your direction, you couldn’t even see them, only omnipresent pain invisible to the naked eye.

“_____, breathe.” Echo inside your ringing head. A soothing, distant voice. “I know, I know. Just breathe.”

Sharp inhale. Short exhale.

“Again, control your feelings. Breathe.”

Another sharp inhale, this time deeper. And exhale.

“Just like this, regain control. It’s fine. It will be fine.”

In long, out long. The buzzing seemed to fade into white noise, and with each breath it moved further and further away. Calm down, it’s fine. It will be fine.

The voice was getting closer to you, so close you could recognize it. As well as your surroundings. Cold tiles of restroom at the airport, empty stalls, three pairs eyes staring at you in shock. If only they could tell how shocked you were.

Soon enough another two figures rushed to you. You recognized one of the voices as Professor Xavier. The distant voice.

“It’s okay, breathe. You’re safe.” You blinked regaining your vision.

“Wh-what happened?”

“That, you’ll have to figure out on your own.” 

“Where’s _____?”

When Xavier suddenly decided to leave them at the waiting area Warren was certain it had something to do with your disappearance. And they made him wait, like a fool, like he wasn’t dying inside unaware of what you must have gotten yourself into. 

And so he was pacing around, concern all over his face. No words of wisdom coming from Jean could stop him from worrying. You weren’t there, something must have happened.

“She-“

“She won’t be coming.” McCoy chimed in right behind Charles, but the elder mutant only nodded in agreement.

It was already settled, there was nothing else to add. Neither for you nor for him. He was left with a bunch of vague explanations and affirmations that everything is fine, that you’re just not ready, not yet. But the words just kept booming inside his head like an echo.

“Wha-? What do you mean she won’t be coming?” 

~~~~~

to be continued

[crash-cinematic-universe]

Peter Maximoff is completely, utterly, and undoubtedly in love

pairing: Peter Maximoff/fem!bassist!reader

Summary: Peter had no idea a simple mission would change his life forever, He also had no idea how much he liked the bass guitar.

notes: fuck it. a series because I’m in love with peter maximoff

warnings: language, peter is a cute little bitch

________________________________________________________________  

        Peter knew the song even before he stepped inside the crowded bar, the bassline immediately ringing a bell in his mind. He smirked before pushing the doors open. 

        “That song,” he said, catching the attention of Hank who was standing close beside him. “It’s one of my favorites; Money by Pink Floyd.” Peter’s attention is turned to the bassist of the band on stage. His mouth goes dry, his eyes widening once the spotlight hits her. She looks ethereal in the stage lights, her eyes closed as her hands pluck the strings of her bass. She’s gorgeous, the look of concentration on her face going straight to Peter’s heart. He’s awestruck, and Hank notices.

        “Peter,” he calls, trying to catch the young man’s eyes. He fails. “Peter,” he calls again, snapping his associate out of his trance. “We’re here to find the mutant and bring them to Charles, we shouldn’t get” he pauses to glance at the bassist, “distracted.” 

        “I’m not distracted, Hank, I’m super professional and always have my eyes on the prize.” he says, the smug sarcasm dripping from his voice. The band switched from Money to Barracuda. He fought the urge to look at the bassist again. Hank sees his restraint and smirks.

        “Peter, if we find the mutant fast enough you might have a chance to meet her.” Hank turns away from the stage to order a drink. “Ya know, Charles said the mutant would be inconspicuous and well-hidden, so keep your eyes peeled.”

        “Uh, Hank,” Peter said, his voice uncertain. “I think I found the mutant.” Hank whips around and sees the bassist floating a foot above ground, her eyes shut in concentration. Her eyes snap open, and the irises are glowing a shimmering silver, someone in the crowd shouts, ‘mutant scum!’ and she lands on the ground. The young woman shares a look with her band mates as the bartender calls the police. The bassist nods, and the guitarist gives a loud strum of her instrument. The bassist’s eyes glow again and she seems to convert the sound to energy, pushing away the few audience members that tried to charge the stage. The band makes a break for the back door, the guitarist turning continuously producing sound that the bassist uses to create a barrier between the now wild crowd. 

        Peter quickly grabs Hank and runs out back, watching as the group jumps into an old van. They’re laughing, like this was a fun endeavor for them. Peter speeds into the back silently, trying desperately to duck behind the seats. Their instruments provide good cover-- at least good enough for now.

       “Holy shit, Y/n, that was insane!” the guitarist laughs. The bassist smiles. 

        “I didn’t even realize I was doing it, but hey, that's a helluva way to end our last performance.” the bassist speaks. Her name is Y/n. A pretty name for a pretty girl. The van is quiet for a minute before someone speaks up.  

        “So, Y/n, a couple cute faces in the crowd, huh?” the drummer teases. 

        “Oh, shut it, Danny, just because you can read minds doesn’t mean you know anything about me.” Y/n snaps playfully, a bashful blush on her face. It’s cute.

        “I might not know much, but you were thinkin’ pretty loud back there. Hey, I’m not judging, he was pretty cute. His hair was weird, but he was cute.” Danny smirks. 

        “Looks like you got some competition, Y/n” the guitarist retorts jokingly.

        “I’d never make a move, Cassie,” Danny says cooly, “He’s not my type, and Y/n called mental dibs on the silver cutie. Plus, he was totally into you too, his jaw practically dropped when he saw you.”

        “He was probably looking at Cassie,” Y/n defends, the blush lingering on her face.

        “I hope not,” Cassie sighs, “I’m tired of explaining my sexuality to people; asexual and aromantic, it’s not hard to understand.”

        “His thoughts were deafening, he was definitely checking out Y/n, but don’t worry. He wasn’t being creepy like the other guys usually are.” Danny smiles. “The guy with the weird hair was completely smitten, I think.”

        ‘Are they talking about me?’ Peter thinks. ‘My hair isn’t weird.’

        “It is,” Danny says suddenly. “It’s also weird that you’ve been hiding this whole time. C’mon out man, we won’t bite.” Peter slowly sits up, his head peeking out from behind the seats. No one seems shocked, besides the singer, who’s driving.

        “You’re like us, right?” Cassie asks. “A mutant?” 

        “Yeah,” Peter says hesitantly. “I, uh, came with a friend. We were looking for her,” he points at Y/n, “we didn’t know you were all mutants.” 

        “Charlie isn’t,” Y/n says, gesturing to the driver. “They’re just a killer vocalist.” Her voice is like music to Peter’s ears, her movements fluid and graceful and wonderful and Peter realizes that Danny was right. He was completely smitten with a beautiful stranger. Peter glances up and realizes that Danny was smirking at him before looking at Y/n once again.

        “Where’s your hot friend?” Danny asks, and Peter realizes he left Hank at the bar. Alone. 

        “Oh god,” Peter laughs slightly, “I left him at the bar. He’s… not very conspicuous.” 

        “You’re telling me,” Danny guffaws, “I almost lost control of my sticks once I saw him.” 

        “That’s not the only stick you lost control of,” Y/n mumbles and the van bursts out in thunderous laughter; including Peter. Y/n is oddly proud; she thinks his laugh is cute. Once the laughter died down, the bassist spoke again. “Why were you looking for me? I didn’t break any laws, did I?” Danny scoffs. “I didn’t break any more laws, did I?” 

        “No,” Peter says. He can’t believe he’s actually talking to her. And she’s talking back to him. And he feels like he’s going to pass out. “There’s a school in New York full of mutants. The headmaster got some info on you; he thought you’d be a valuable student to have. We came to ask if you’d be interested, but since all of you are mutants, all of you can come.” 

        Y/n glances at Danny. 

        “He’s telling the truth,” the drummer says. 

        “I’m in.” Y/n agrees without so much as a question. The band looks shocked. “Oh come on, where else would I go? We can’t live in this shithole forever, and just knowing that there’s a place where we’d be safe and accepted is enough for me.” Peter’s heart basically fucking explodes in his chest and he silently thanks the cosmic forces that she agreed. Danny hesitates before speaking. 

        “I’m in too. Y/n and I have been best friends since 4th grade, I’m not ditching you now. Plus, I have a bet to win” Danny smirks at Y/n before turning to Cassie. 

       “I don’t know…” she trails off, and Y/n silently begs her. Her eyes plead silently and Peter has a moment to study her features closely. She has a nose piercing and a plethora of ear piercings, her hair had streaks of wild colors in it and her eyeliner was smudged. One thought ran through his head constantly: she’s amazing. “Alright, let's do it!” Cassie agrees. Before anyone has a chance to ask Charlie, they speak up.

        “I can’t.” The van is silent. “You all know it. I just… won’t belong. Even if I wanted to go, I wouldn’t be able to.” Danny nods knowingly. 

        “You have a family to tend to, it wouldn’t be fair to steal you away--” Y/n shoots him a look. “-- again” The group laughs again, and the mood lightens. Suddenly, Y/n speaks up.

        “Hey Silver, what’s the school’s policy on small animals?” Danny and Cassie’s faces flash with realization, and the three of them shout in unison, “SEYMOUR THE SECOND!” 

        “Who?” Peter asks, completely confused. 

        “The light of my life, my pride and joy, my soulmate, my one true love...” Y/n rambles, and Peter’s heart drops with every word. She’s not single. “... my pet ferret.” oh. 

        “I’m sure Charles would make an exception for… Seymour.” Peter says hesitantly. “If not, I can always hide him for you”

        “Really? You’re the best, silver!” Y/n playfully punches him on the shoulder and Peter practically dies on the spot. 

        “Uh, what’s your name?” Cassie asks suddenly, and the gang realizes they’d been addressing him as ‘silver’ the entire time. “I’m assuming your name isn’t your hair color.”

        Peter chuckles, “No, my name is Peter, Peter Maximoff. My friend back at the bar is named Hank. Hank McCoy.”

        “Hank McCoy, hot damn, isn’t that a name.” Danny jokes. Y/n giggles at his antics, and the sound alone makes his heart skip.

        “So, you’re a telepath, you can manipulate sound, what about you?” Peter inquires, looking towards Cassie.

        “I can see the future.” Cassie says nonchalantly.

        “And you, Silver? What can you do?” Y/n asks, scooting a little closer to him.

        “Uh, I’m, uh, fast.” Peter smiles at the young woman's face lights up.

        “Oh god, here we go,” Danny groans despite the smile on his face.

        “You have super speed?” Y/n exclaims, her eyes scanning him up and down. “Do you have heat resistance? You probably also have some form of super strength, right? Depending on what you can do you could also have the ability to manipulate gravity and inertia, oh my god you’re so cool!” 

        At this point, everyone noticed the way Peter’s face flushed and the way his pupils dilated and the way his cheeky grin only grew when Y/n would gush over his mutation. Danny couldn’t help but smile at Y/n’s thoughts, her mind buzzing with admiration for the silver boy who snuck onto their van.

        The vehicle rolls to a stop and Charlie barely has enough time to unlock the van before Hank bursts in, grabbing Peter by the collar and pulling him out. Hank was blue again, and completely enraged. 

        “Are you insane!?” Hank shouts at the boy, now on the ground. “She could have killed you! Charles said the mutant was unpredictable and dangerous, you can’t just--” Peter cuts him off.

        “She’s not dangerous. She’s strong, sure, but not dangerous. If she wanted to kill me she would have, and so would Danny and Cassie and, hell, even Charlie.” Y/n climbed out the van and walked over to Hank, sticking out her hand.

        “Y/n L/n,” she grins, “that’s Danny Rodriguez and Cassie Mann, behind them is Charlie S’venstob.” Hank hesitates before shaking her hand, glancing over at the van full of young adults. Danny winks at him.

        “I’m not gonna kill Silver, or you, or anyone else, I can assure you that. He was telling us about a school, a place where mutants are welcome and accepted and embraced. We want in.” Hank turns to Peter, who is once again gazing at Y/n with a love struck film over his eyes. 

        “Well, uh, we were only looking for one mutant, but I’m sure Charles can accommodate three more.” Hank says, his voice unsure.

        “Two more,” Charlie says. “I’m not a mutant, and even if I was, I got a wife and a kid.”

        “Well, then, two more. We should go now, we’re already incredibly off schedule.” Hank says, flustered and confused and tired. The group returns to Charlie, wishing them a teary goodbye. Hank walks over to Peter as they all say farewell.

        “Peter, you just met her, you can’t go too deep too fast.” Hank warns. Peter just smiles a far away smile, his eyes trained on the mutant as she hugs Charlie.

        “Too late.”

[s-trawberryv-eins]

Happy Anniversary

NOT MY GIF

Summary: One year on.

Warnings: Angst, mentions of death, descriptions of violence.

Please read here before reading!

Stark!OC x Avengers

Word count: 1393

The Caroline Stark Series Masterlist

It hit Natasha first. The screams that tore from her throat still rang in Caroline’s ears. Fighting to drag her friend from her nightmare, she held her as close as she could until the trashing stopped. Bedsheets soaked with a cold sweat, Stark carried the Romanoff girl away from the scene and set her shivering body down on her own bed. Widow had never spoken about it. But that night she couldn't stop. The fight with Clint; the fall; the brief second of consciousness as her skull caved in before the darkness. Wanda was there in an instant, red mist falling from her finger tips, easing Widow back into a dreamless sleep.

Rhodey was the next to go, Steve hot on his trail. The two seemed to vanish, the Captain and the Colonel taking their places. Sleep was an enemy, besting them both, leaving the two visibly worse for wear in a way that heroes aren’t supposed to look, even to an untrained eye. Throwing themselves into politics and war, they fought desperately and recklessly, as if the warfare would return to them that which they lost.

Pepper tried to hold it together, but it was no secret how she wept when the girls were gone. Mourning not only her husband, but the father of her children, the man who had been by her side for as long as her memory could serve her. It seemed as though she was granted everything she every wished for; but there was a catch, of course - it would never come at once.

Bucky was withdrawn, wracked with guilt. Sam stuck with him, the pair all but sleeping in the gym. Falcon fought to keep Barnes afloat, and they trained and trained and trained until they couldn't keep their eyes open. They'd wake up and do it again. Banner mourned quietly. Dipping into old projects and designs, he remembered fondly, just barely keeping his demons at bay. FRIDAY provided him with updates on the others; as long as he knew they were safe, he knew to let them grieve how they chose to. Clint returned home to his family. Struggling with his new reality, he found refuge in the arms of his wife, keeping a watchful eye on his children. Mourning not only his teammate, but the lives of those he faced during his five years alone.

Nobody noticed the red that seemed to coat the compound. Wanda felt it all. Her teammates bled emotion, it poured from the walls and she felt it all. The Maximoff girl had taken to wandering the halls, eyes looking nowhere in particular as she poured every ounce of energy she had into easing the trauma the building held. Her nights were dreamless, the heavy drowsiness never really lifting from her bones.

Caroline disappeared; access to her lab had been restricted entirely, and she hadn’t been seen for days. Bruises bloomed in violent blues and purples, evidence of her exhaustion getting the best of her as she tried and tried and tried again to fix what was never really broken. Refusing to acknowledge her grief, she worked herself to death and back, ignoring all pleas from the AI to rest.

Peter had shown up, eyes silently begging for comfort. Snatching Morgan up into his arms, the two hid from the darkness that loomed, and they pulled on whatever thread of happiness they could find. When Peter cried, Morgan asked why. Where is everybody? Why are you upset, Petey? He’d explained softly, and the far too well-adjusted girl clung on to him until his tears had calmed.

Sleep brought terror filled images. Flashbacks to a bloodied battlefield riddled trauma filled minds. Recalling every bruise, every life taken, every life lost, every drop of blood spilled on the ruins of their home. Sacrifice. The word means nothing to them. A whole universe, moving on and healing. At what cost? A small price to pay, they said. A mantra they’d adopted after the Battle of Earth.

How many had they buried? What about the ones who died as a result of the snap, but not in it? What about the parentless children and the childless parents? How many of them had to die for the rest of the world to be safe?

-

After a week, it changed. Banner had found Natasha and Wanda curled up together on the sofa of the common room. A movie played quietly, as not to disturb the others. Dropping his lab coat on the back of a chair, he joined them. No words were exchanged, but snacks were shared, and soft smiles appeared. It didn't take long for Sam and Bucky to find them, gracelessly plonking themselves down around their teammates. Their bodies were stiff and screaming for rest, and upon seeing their friends again, they gave in.

The movie finished, but nobody dared to move. It felt fragile. As if it wasn’t quite real, and the slightest of movements could scare them all back into hiding. It wasn't until they heard the familiar sound of a landing Quinjet that they moved. As if moving as one, the heroes shuffled their way over to greet the incoming. The stoic Captain stepped off the jet first, followed by an even icier Colonel. Creeping forward, Wanda approached the two with abandon. Taking their hands in hers, she began to walk them back over to the waiting team. As the mist poured from her fingertips, it seemed to wrap around their hands, winding up the soldiers' arms. Their demeanours softened, and they allowed the girl to pull them along with her.

They understood now; this game they were playing. Waiting, as if setting a trap for the others. They waited and waited. Movies continued to play, the volume increasing to lure the remaining out of the darkness. The silence seemed to die down, soft words exchanged between the gathered. A discussion about a family meal that evening. Debating who would cook. Rhodey’s useless in the kitchen, but nobody is as bad as Natasha, they said. Bucky can cook! Wanda can definitely cook! Wait, wait, wait...Bucky can cook? A faux angry glare and a smile silenced that issue.

A loud crash and the clanging of metal stole their attention, the movie once again being forgotten. Pained groans could be heard, followed by the shrieking laughter of a Stark up to no good. Tiny footsteps grew louder, and before long she stood in front of them. Eyes wide and French plaits falling out messily around her face, Morgan greeted her aunties and uncles with a smile before sitting on the sofa and playing innocent. Peter suddenly rounded the corner, lungs screaming for air and the looked of a seasoned big brother on his face. No explanation was provided, Peter merely caught his breath and lifted the girl on to his knee, where they settled down with the rest of the team.

-

Hours has passed and there seemed to be no sign of Pepper nor Caroline until the door swung open, the former demanding that somebody tend to her daughters’ injuries. With a split lip and a chipped chin, Caroline seemed to have taken more of a beating than the rest of the team combined. Sitting her down at the table, Bucky and Natasha pulled out a first aid kit to clean the girl up. The bruise on her temple was a cause for concern, the supersoldier scolded her for being so careless.

After a few moments of comfortable silence, Wanda set down four large dishes of lasagne on the table. The supersoldiers all but lunged for a plate, shovelling the pasta onto their plates as if it was their last meal. Bruce served drinks, and Sam handed out some cutlery. Of course, the food was delicious. Wanda was very talented, and Bucky knew his way around a kitchen from way back when, taking on the responsibility of cooking when Steve was too sick. They made a good team, everyone agreed.

Grief lessened her grip on the compound, and whilst they knew she’d return, they took notice of what they had. As they sat in the kitchen, a slow but sure progress appearing, they each realised that this is how they’d heal; together. Because through everything; through war and torture and loss and weakness, this was the constant they could cling to.  

[lovemesomerafael]

Destroying The Planet To Save It   Chapter 16:  Subtle Is For Amateurs

                             Chapters 1-15          Read It On AO3

Sometime during the afternoon, several additional team members arrived at Stark Tower.  The whole team hadn’t assembled, however. Thor, for one, was completely occupied fighting for the survival of Asgard.  He had been briefly interested in the fact that the enemy appeared to be able to control weather, asking with affronted ire, “Who dares to usurp my throne as God of Thunder!”, only to instantly deflate and lose interest when he learned that the phenomena weren’t natural.  Dr. Strange hadn’t even taken Steve’s call, instead assigning a functionary to apologize profusely (and to lie entirely unconvincingly), saying that Dr. Strange was currently off-world.   Nobody, including Tony, currently knew where Rhodey was.  And for whatever reason, Tony wouldn’t even hear of calling on Peter Parker.  Steve wasn’t entirely disappointed; that kid really needed to learn to shut up during a fight.  

Bucky wasn’t surprised to see Clint Barton come bounding into the training room with Wanda Maximoff walking sedately behind him.

“Barnes, quit aiming that rubber gun at her.  I want to introduce Joss to Wanda.”

Bucky was surprised, as always, by how young Wanda was.  Given her abilities and accomplishments, he didn’t really think of her as a kid, but that’s what she was.  This time, though, she seemed to have a little more… self-assurance than she’d had the last time Bucky had seen her.  Her time away from the team, alone with Vision, was apparently good for her.

“You know this idiot,” Clint said, pulling Wanda past Bucky as she breathed a hurried, “Hi” to him.

“This is Joss.  This is who I wanted you to meet.  Well, actually, I wanted her to meet you.  She’s just learning to use her ability.”

Wanda smiled at Joss.  “He says you’re telekinetic?”

Joss flushed a little, clearly uncomfortable. “Nothing like you.  I’m just a – I can move stuff, that’s it.  And only what I’d be able to move physically.  I hear you throw trucks.”

“Only when necessary,” Wanda chuckled.  

“Actually, Joss can do more than just move stuff,” Bucky added.  “You guys wanna see something?”

Clint and Wanda stepped together, curiosity evident in their expressions.  

Bucky took a stance a few feet from them, while Joss walked about ten feet across the room, then turned to face him.  He held the rubber AR-15 up, as though aiming it at her.  For a few moments, nothing happened.  Then, suddenly, the weapon twisted itself out of Bucky’s grip and flew to Joss, who caught it.  

“Awesome!”  Clint cried.

“He was barely holding it,” Joss said, returning to the group.  “We’re still working on that move.”

Bucky clapped Joss on the shoulder.  “But we’ll get there.”

Seemingly apropos of nothing, Joss looked at Wanda and said, “I can’t aim.”

“I remember that,” Wanda responded, apparently understanding completely.  “There’s a trick to it.”  

Joss smiled, encouraged, and Wanda turned to Bucky and Clint.  “How about you guys give us some time to get to know each other?”

Bucky and Clint looked at one another, surprised and a little disappointed, but didn’t argue.  Shuffling out of the gym, they climbed the stairs to the residences side by side.

“Looks like you guys made some good progress today.”

“Yeah, more than I would’ve guessed,” Bucky agreed. “She’s a good student, which surprises me.   I kinda expected her to fight me.  She really hates being a mutant.”

“Can’t say I blame her.  Lotta assholes out there.”

Bucky sighed in response, opening the door from the stairway to the elevator lobby for Clint.

“So, I got some weird vibes from you two this morning.  Something happen?”

“Not like what happened with you and Natasha,” Bucky responded, smirking.

“Who says anything happened with me and Tasha?”

“Yeah, right.”

Clint’s smile lit his whole body.  “I’m in love, bro.”

“That ain’t new.”

“No, but she wants to give it a real try. She’s ready now, and it’s…”  Clint could only smile more widely (a little idiotically, Bucky thought, but he let it go), and make a vague gesture that ended with his hand over his heart.  

“Happy for you, dude.  Both of you.  Maybe tell her to watch it with the teeth, if you’re trying to be subtle about it,” Bucky grinned, pointing to a large bruise with a definite bite mark in it where Clint’s neck and shoulder met.  

“Fuck that,” Clint laughed.  “Subtle is for amateurs.”

Bucky passed through the lounge area and into the kitchen.  He briefly greeted Scott Lang, who was standing hunched over in the open doors of the large refrigerator, peering into the back.  When it became clear he wasn’t going to move, Bucky reached around him for a bottle of water.  He held it up to Clint, who nodded from where he’d sprawled out on a couch.

Bucky grabbed another bottle and, re-crossing the room, handed it to Clint.  “Better hydrate,” he said.  “Between you and Natasha, I’m thinkin’ we’re not talking tame or infrequent.”

“You’d be right about that,” Clint answered, toasting Bucky cockily with the bottle before taking a drink.  “But you didn’t answer my question.  What’s up with you and Joss?”

Bucky frowned.  “She hates me.”

“Yeah, that’s obvious from the way she can’t take her eyes off you.”

“Whatever.  Not gonna happen, so…”

“I don’t get it.  And if you’re not gonna go for it with her, then…”

“Do you have any idea how many ways Natasha knows to kill you?”

“Hah!  You’re jealous.  So spill. Dr. Hawkeye is in.  Vat seems to be ze problem?”  He asked, with the worst attempt at a German accent ever.

“Ze problem is that we’re – you know, the team – we’re in magazines and shit.  And she says all of this,” he gestured around, “is, and I’m quoting here, above her pay grade.”

A look of genuine concern came over Clint’s handsome features.  “Yeah. I can see that.”

“I don’t give a fuck about any of that stuff, you know that.”

“’Course I do.  But look at it from her perspective.  What if you were still Bucky from Brooklyn, and you got a shot with some movie babe?  They had movies back then, didn’t they?  Electricity? Light?”

“Fuck you,” Bucky grinned.

“Well?  You’re such a cocky fucker, maybe it wouldn’t be a problem for you.  But, I mean, everything we do is news of one kind of another.  Either we’re savin’ the world, or blowing shit up, or takin’ out some nest of bad guys. And you?  You’re so disgustingly handsome, you’re news when you fucking breathe. You could have hot and cold running babes, if you wanted.  I never seen you take advantage of that, but you could.  A lot of normal people are intimidated by all that.  We’re…  You’re… a lot, dude.”

“She hangs out with the damn President!  You’re tellin’ me he’s not news?”

“He’s her job.  You’re talking about her life. Her heart.  Whole different thing, man.”

“Well, since I seem to be stuck with you assholes, and this face, I guess that’s that.”

“Not necessarily.  Give her time.  She’s only been around this shit for, what, like a week?”

Bucky grunted, slouched in the big, soft chair. For a while, they drank their water in silence before Scott, empty-handed despite his extended fridge recon, came and sat with them.  After that, conversation turned to other topics, although Bucky was still mulling over what Clint had said.

*****

Steve spent much of the day stewing.  There simply wasn’t much for him to do when the work was all in the hands of those more competent to perform it.  Once there was an enemy, a force to stop, Steve would be in his element.  But right now, there was little he could do.  

With that thought came a familiar, immense, monstrous weight.  Steve took a huge breath through his nose and let it out as slowly and steadily as he possibly could.  Sometimes that helped.  Not today. He glanced across the table at Sharon, who was scowling at a series of printouts, translations of the notes Clint and Natasha had found in the underground bunker in Washington, D.C. Her beautiful face, usually so serenely confident and sunny, now looked as troubled and exhausted as he felt.  

Steve stood, using every ounce of energy he could to appear nonchalant as he scooted his chair back from the table and strode from the conference room.  He tried to be quiet as he pushed open the door to the stairwell, then set off to run the ten floors to the roof.  

Exercise usually soothed him, gave him a focus and an outlet for whatever he happened to be feeling.   In fact, that morning, he’d channeled quite a bit of his anxiety over whatever Jarman Arias – or whoever – was up to, into a punishing upper-body workout with weights, followed by an hour with the punching bag.  Well, punching bags.  He’d gone through two.  Even Bucky had laughingly commented that he was unusually enthusiastic about their sparring.  When Steve had told him why, Bucky had simply shrugged, grinned, and retaken his defensive stance.

“Then bring it, punk.  You can take it out on me.  Just don’t expect me to go easy on you, either.”  

When he arrived on the roof, Steve was barely breathing hard, and felt only the slightest dampness at his hairline. Still, the fresh air, and the wind this high up above the city, were refreshing.  He stretched his arms as far over his head as he could, face up toward the sun, breathing in the outdoor air.  The roar of the city was soothing in a way he felt no need to explain to himself.

He put his hands on the railing surrounding the roof and looked out over Manhattan.  So many people.  So many people in the boroughs hidden from sight in the hazy air obscuring the horizon. So many people in other cities, across the country, across the oceans, around the globe.  And he was responsible for all of them.  He looked down to see the endless line of people hurrying along the sidewalk below, minds focused on their own errands, their own problems and cares, secure in the knowledge that they were safe from invasion or attack, because Captain America was on the job.  Well, guess what, Citizens of Earth?  Captain America needed a fucking vacation.  

To his annoyance, Steve heard the door from the stairway open and close, and steps scuffing along the rough, pebbly surface of the roof.  He sighed deeply and turned his head as whoever it was approached, and was shocked to see Phil Coulson, Director of the new S.H.I.E.L.D., standing next to him.  Coulson reached into the jacket of his ubiquitous navy blue suit and pulled out the last thing Steve would have expected: a pack of cigarettes.  

“You’re kidding,” Steve grinned in amused surprise.

Coulson merely shook out a cigarette and handed Steve the pack.  

“I don’t smoke,” Steve said.

“You were in the Army in World War II,” Coulson replied around the cigarette he was lighting.  “You smoke.”

Steve surprised himself by shaking a cigarette out and trading the pack for Coulson’s expensive-looking monogrammed silver lighter. “Nice,” Steve muttered as he flicked the flame to life.

“It’s supermagnetic if you know how to activate the switch.  It’ll attract and stop a bullet.  Hurts like a motherfucker and leaves a perfectly rectangular bruise, but you know. Beats getting shot.”

Steve nodded.  “Guess you’ve had to use it?”

Coulson shrugged and let out a stream of smoke. “Some parts of my job suck.”

“Yeah.  Same.”

“That’s what I came early to talk to you about, actually.”

“Oh?”  Steve asked as they stood shoulder to shoulder, smoking and looking out over the city.  

“You look like shit, Rogers.  You sound like shit.  Carter tells me you sleep like shit.”

Steve shook his head disgustedly.  “Shoulda known you’d have her reporting back to you on me.”

Coulson’s mirthless guffaw surprised Steve.  “You think even I could get her to do that? But I can read between the lines, and I’m very observant.  I also notice you’re not denying it.”

“No,” Steve sighed.  “I’m not denying it.”

Coulson nodded and they smoked in silence for a while before he asked, “Do you know how many employees S.H.I.E.L.D. has?”

“No.”

Coulson blinked.  “OK, actually, neither do I, but it’s a lot.  A whole building full, in fact, not to mention all the ones out in the field.  There are a whole team of avengers, in addition to a number of other members of your team. My point is, you’re not exactly a sole proprietor, Captain Rogers.”

“Never said I was.”

“Really.  Huh. Must’ve misheard you, then.” Coulson crushed out the butt of his cigarette and turned to go back inside the building.

“What about you?”  Steve called to him.

He stopped and turned around.  “What about me?”

“How do you sleep?”

“I sleep like a baby.  You know why?  Because I know I can’t save the world on my own.  So I don’t worry about trying.  I recruit the best people I can find, and I make sure they stay clean and loyal.  Rumor has it I’m somewhat of a dick about that. A rumor I started, by the way.”  

“What’s your point?”

“What’s my point?  I should think that’s rather obvious.  Either you trust your team, in which case you’re wasting valuable energy worrying, or you don’t, in which case you need a new team.  This idea you have that you’ve got the whole world on your shoulders?  It’s bunk. And it’s destroying you.”  

Again, Coulson turned around and headed for the stairway down into the Tower.  He stopped just as he reached the door.  “Oh, and one more thing?”

“What’s that?”

“Figure things out with Stark.  You need each other.  You balance each other out.  This break with him, it’s part of the reason you’re in trouble.”

With that, Director Coulson went through the door, leaving Steve alone with his thoughts, staring out over the city from the roof of Stark Tower.

*****

Sam had thought Anita was special from the moment he laid eyes on her during an operation to rescue a group of physicists who’d been kidnapped by a would-be supervillain.  She had a swagger about her, earned through several years of increasingly more difficult missions.  Of course, she was also beautiful, with her long, black hair and almond-shaped, deep brown eyes fringed by ridiculously long lashes.  More attractive even than her looks was the sense of adventure that bubbled just beneath the surface.  

Today, he was learning quite a bit more about her. Their work at Arias’s villa had proven her to be clever and fearless, but the analysis she’d done of the records from Arias’s bunker was even more impressive.  She’d taken about fifteen minutes to crack the code in which the records were written. Once she explained how it worked, it was obvious that it had taken some serious brainpower to figure it out at all, let alone so quickly.  Of course, it helped that she was a native Spanish speaker, so there was no added difficulty from the fact that the records were in Spanish.  But that didn’t at all diminish the difficulty of what she’d done, and she’d done it seemingly effortlessly.

She had spent the afternoon scouring the records for every mention of something referred to simply as the “resource.”  The more she’d worked on it, the more convinced she had become that this “resource,” whatever it was, was the missing link between the energy-creating machines and the destructive phenomena they caused.  All afternoon, she had typed furiously on her laptop, taking notes and systematically developing and exploring theories in a systematic way that finally resulted in a series of ranked hypotheses about what the “resource” might be.  

Whatever it was, it was consumed in the process of creating one of the phenomena.  Which changed the analysis considerably.  Vision had been almost comically animated when she’d delivered her work product to him.  Vision would be testing it against all the scientific data the team had gathered.  

They still had over an hour left before the team dinner.

“So, what would you like to do with that hour?” Sam asked, trying his best not to look wolfish.  Because he felt wolfish.  

“Actually, I have a great idea,” she answered, and she looked unabashedly wolfish.

Sam gave her a suggestive, crooked smile.  “Yeah?”

“Yeah.  Stark says there’s a firing range.”

Firing range.  Not what Sam was hoping for.  

“Yeah.  Yeah, there is.  It’s on the lowest level of the building, below the underground garage.  You want me to take you there?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

Like everything else at Stark Tower, the firing range was state of the art.  Sam was curious to see what Anita could do.  He knew S.H.I.E.L.D. agents were required to be able to handle multiple types of firearms, and pass stringent quarterly skills testing, but he wanted to watch Anita firing her weapon.  He was attracted to talent and skill, and something about the athletic way she moved, and the way he’d seen her she handle her sidearm, suggested that he was going to enjoy this.  

He had no idea.

Sam’s Steyr SPPs were semiautomatic only, he couldn’t very well use them for target practice.  For that, he used his Beretta 92FS Inox. He’d noticed that Anita wore a H & K P30, which he had some thoughts about, but wasn’t about to voice them.  Not unless she asked.  

He helped her get fitted out with ear and eye protection, and showed her to a firing lane.

“Is it messed up that I think you look hot as hell right this minute?”  He asked, grinning mischeviously.

“Probably.  But I gotta tell you, I’m struggling with my baser urges right now, too.”

Sam cocked an eyebrow. “You tryin’ to get me all worked up, throw off my aim?”

“How’s it workin’?” Anita smirked.

Sam just shook his head and took his place in the adjacent lane.

Anita smoked him. Absolutely smoked him.  Sam was a pretty good shot, but it wasn’t even close. Being competitive, he was initially determined to beat her, then grew tense as she consistently shot exactly what she was aiming at, regardless of distance or complicating factors they threw in. Sam did pretty well when they did a “turn and fire”, because he was always having to aim on the move.  But regardless of what they named as the target – center mass, any quadrant, any point level – that’s where Anita sent a bullet.  After a while, Sam got over being competitive and just settled into being very, very impressed.

Which, in turn, resulted in Sam becoming very, very turned on.  He was immensely grateful that Friday was willing to lock the doors and turn off monitoring when he asked.  It really would have been awkward to have someone come in while he was behind Anita in her shooting booth, thrusting into her while occasionally glancing up at the target she’d last used.

 *****

Bruce was a little amused by Catherine’s reaction to Vision.  She was absolutely fascinated by him.  From the time he’d entered Bruce’s lab, she had been asking him an endless list of increasingly detailed and – in Bruce’s mind - intrusive questions.  Vision, however, didn’t seem to object.  In fact, Bruce thought, he seemed to be as intrigued by himself as Catherine was.  

Beyond his amusement, though, Catherine’s intense curiosity enchanted Bruce.  The enthusiastic glow in her startling green eyes, the heightened color in her cheeks, had Bruce as enthralled with Catherine as she was with Vision.  More than that, her questions were brilliant, and displayed her ability to follow Vision’s explanations of some pretty damned esoteric concepts, and extrapolate from them.  Catherine’s genius had always excited Bruce.  For at least an hour, while he tried to pretend he wasn’t hanging on every word of their conversation, Tony was the only one getting any work done.  

“Yeah, OK, show and tell is over,” Tony finally announced, when he noticed.  “Let’s get some damn science-ing done here, all right?  Vision, what we need from you is an analysis of what the missing link could be between these machines and the phenomena.  How’s the energy being directed?”

Vision nodded and stepped to a worktable where he pulled up his own display and began to work through materials at a pace too fast for any of the humans to even follow the screens as he scrolled through them. Bruce quickly stopped trying; it was giving him motion sickness.  

Instead, he watched Catherine.  Her demeanor since they’d reached the lab this morning had been entirely professional, entirely collegial.  Even at lunch, which they should probably have eaten in the lab for all the attention they paid to anyone else at the table, she had her head together with him and Tony discussing their near-complete assessment of the machines, the energy, and the phenomena.  Her manner toward Bruce was identical to the way she spoke to Tony.  Since breakfast, there’d been no hint in her behavior that she and Bruce had spent the large majority of the previous night fucking each other senseless.  

He realized he was half-hard and didn’t need the deep ache in his balls to tell him he’d been that way for most of the day. No surprise there; the last woman he’d been with had been Catherine.  He couldn’t blame the poor, starved little guy for wanting more of the first real sex he’d had in over two years.  And what sex it had been.  He really needed to stop replaying and replaying moments from the night before in his head; it was not helping his current condition.  He could still taste her.  Her cries of love as she came still echoed in his head.  

If it had just been sex, if he was following his own rules, he would probably have found an excuse to pull her away from the lab long enough to pin her against a wall somewhere, or maybe lay her across a desk. Yeah, he really needed to stop thinking about that.  The thing was, he wasn’t following his own rules.  He replayed her voice telling him she loved him much more often than he replayed her shouting in ecstasy, or growling filthy instructions and praise in his ear. He felt, over and over again, the warm thrill that had filled his chest as he reached for her and she melted into him, murmuring his name in her sleep.  

Two hours later, when evening was falling and it was almost time to the assembled team for dinner, Bruce noticed Catherine hanging back as Tony and Vision left his lab, heads together talking about something even Bruce couldn’t follow.  He was shocked to see her sitting on her tall stool, looking at him as though he was made of the Belgian chocolate she couldn’t get enough of.  Irresistibly drawn to her as if by some compulsion she was consciously exerting on him, he began to move slowly, tentatively, toward her, stepping faster as he got closer and saw the need in her eyes.  

She slid her hands up his upper arms as he embraced her, spreading her thighs and pulling him in so their bodies were pressed together.  A surge of something powerful hit Bruce when he felt her hook her feet around his calves, like she used to do when they’d worked together at Oxford.  

It was weeks later that Bruce understood this was the moment he lost the battle.  All he knew at the time was that he needed Catherine’s mouth under his, her arms and legs holding him, like he needed air.  More, because he paid no attention to trying to breathe; all he cared about was the way her lips felt on his and the sweet, coffee-tinged taste of her mouth.  He didn’t even know he was rubbing his cock against her through their clothes, because he was kissing her, and she was kissing him back, and they were both mumbling I love you’s into each other’s mouths, and it was so good and so necessary and so stupendously, irresistibly right that he refused to consider ever leaving this moment, even to come. Which, as it turned out, he didn’t.

She came first, surprising the hell out of him in his blissed-out, love-drunk state.  But when she did, he was stunned to realize that he was right there with her. So he simply kept on thrusting against her, kisses so wide-open and invasive there was saliva coating his chin, until he, too, climaxed with a hissed rush of barely-comprehensible endearments.  

Having taken the edge off with that first orgasm, they were able to take a bit of care with one another’s clothing once he led her by the hand to the oversized couch to one side of the lab.  Bruce thought, in an indecent corner of his mind, of the other times he’d had sex on this couch – alone and driven by pent-up need – and felt a tremor go through him when he considered that he would be able to look back at this moment at such times in the future, and maybe feel just a bit less lonely.  

Once he had Catherine completely nude, he pulled her down on his lap and wrapped her in his arms.  

“I’ve been hard for you all day.  You have no idea…”

“Like hell I don’t – I was getting ready to knock you down and bonk you on the floor.”

Bruce laughed breathily as he lifted Catherine by her hips and she reached for his cock, positioning them so that he slid easily into her, hot and slick.  They cried out together with the long-delayed feeling they’d both been craving all day. Bruce had just enough mental capacity left to remember to call out to Friday, asking her to lock the door and stop monitoring his lab.  

They were gloriously entwined, Catherine lying on the couch with Bruce above her, both sweaty and oversensitive, but still going, when Friday politely interrupted.

“Excuse me, doctors, but I’ve been asked to inform you that you are late for the team dinner.”

Bruce and Catherine both groaned in protest.  

“The boss says to tell you that, quote, he will turn on the monitors and project whatever they see in your lab onto the dining room wall in five minutes, and that you should act accordingly.”

“Right wanker, isn’t he?”  Catherine muttered.  

“When Pepper’s out of town?”  Bruce answered.  “Always.”

[avengerscompound]

The Future Mrs. Barnes

The Future Mrs. Barnes:  A Bucky Barnes Fanfic

Series Masterlist

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Word Count:  3540

Series Warnings:  Angst, twists, smut (oral and vaginal sex, fingering), Cheating.

Synopsis:  During a fight with a HYDRA agent, you and Bucky Barnes are transported to a world where time doesn’t seem to be working properly.

When Bucky returns to the real world, he has to figure out how to rebuild his life after losing everything again.

The Future Mrs. Barnes

“That’s the last of them.”

Sergeant Barnes’ voice barely even registers as you stare out the window.  It’s pitch black outside.  Nothing like you’ve ever seen before.  Normally the world gives off some sort of ambient lighting, doesn’t it?  The moon?  Stars?  The far off glow of cities?  There’s nothing.  Like you’re deep underground.  Only you aren’t.  You are remote sure, but that doesn’t explain why it seems like someone has just switched the lights off.

It also doesn’t explain what happened to the others.  There was a whole team of people with you.  Captain Rogers, Agents Barton, and Romanoff, Sergeant Wilson, Ms. Maximoff.  You were fighting your way through a Hydra base.  A guy came out and muttered something under his breath, Blue light started radiating out of his body.  As you and Sergeant Barnes ran to stop him Maximoff did her hand thing.  There was light and then there was no light and you and Bucky were alone in the pitch black.

You’d stumbled around in the dark until you’d bumped into each other.  Then you’d remembered you had a flare on your utility belt.  You lit it and used the glow in light to get your bearings.  You weren’t in the base anymore.  You were in a forest.  There was a cabin.  You’d called for the others until the flare went out and then held hands and slowly crept your way to the cabin.  Barnes broke the door in and taken it upon himself to find every candle in the rundown shack.

“I was thinking I might take off my clothes and use the heat from the candles to keep warm.  If I lit them all at once that would work right?”  Barnes says.

“Yeah, sure.”  You agree, not even listening to what he was saying.

He starts laughing and it startles you enough that you jerk your head around to see what’s going on.

“You weren’t even listening to what I said.”  He laughs.

“What do you think happened to us?  Where the hell are we, Sergeant Barnes?”  You ask.

“Call me Bucky.”  He says.  “Something obviously went weird when Wanda did the thing she does.”  He wiggles his fingers near his head.  “The others will find us.  We both have GPS in our equipment.  We’ll be fine.”

You aren’t so convinced.  “What about the sky?”

Barnes walks up behind you and looks out the window.  He’s standing so close that you can actually feel the heat radiating off his skin.  It isn’t until that moment that you realize how cold you are.  

“I’m not gonna lie.  That’s a little scary.  Still, not gonna worry.  We can do this can’t we, doll?”  He says.

You consider correcting him.  You were an agent and he doesn’t know you.  Using pet names is inappropriate.  Now doesn’t seem the time though.  He steps away from you and the cold air seems to clamp down on you and you start to shiver.

“That cold is strange isn’t it?”  Barnes says.  “If I stand here.  I’m cold.  But,” he takes two steps toward you. “Here is fine.”  

You start wringing your hands.  All your years of training and nothing had ever prepared you for this twilight zone episode you seemed to be living through.  “Sergeant Barnes?”

“Bucky.”

“I’m really scared.”

He puts his hand on your shoulder and rubs his thumb up and down.  “You wanna find food or start a fire?”

“Fire.”  You said quickly.  He smiles and heads into the kitchen.

By the time he returns the fire is roaring.  He has a couple of pots in his hands that are balanced precariously on plates.  You remove one and he gestures to the fire.  You put the pot onto the coals and he does the same with the other one and disappears into the kitchen again.  This time when he returns it’s carrying a dusty wine bottle and two glasses.

“Look what I found.”  He says.

You shake your head.  “I think we should stay alert, sir.  Who knows where we are.  Or if there are enemies out there.”

Barnes shrugs and opens the bottle.  “Suit yourself.   And it’s Bucky.”

You both sit up for a little while, him trying to engage you and get you to relax.  You resisting.  You must have fallen asleep.  You feel like you did, but you can’t remember it happening.  You’re just talking and then suddenly the sun is up.  

The two of you explore around outside.  You won’t relax despite how hard Barnes tries to get you to.  Nothing about this feels right.  There is no sound outside.  No birds, no animals, no cars off in the distance.  You can’t see the sun either.  It’s light, and the sky is blue and free from clouds, but there is no sun.  It makes you uneasy.  You feel like you must be being watched.

That night Barnes cooks and brings wine out again.  You refuse to drink again.

“Why don’t you ever socialize with the rest of us?”  Barnes asks, taking a large swallow of his wine.  “You’ve been on the team for six months now.”

“This is my job.”  You answer.  

“You can’t be friends with work colleagues?”

You shake your head.  “If you’re working at Macy’s sure.  Getting attached to people in this line of work only leads to heartbreak, which leads to you not doing your job properly.”

Barnes leans back on the moth-eaten couch.  “You lost someone.”  He says like that answered everything.  “Was it a friend?  Family member?”

You sigh.  “My girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend, huh?”  He says, picking his teeth with his prosthetic hand.  “That explains so many things.”

You glare at him.  “You might be my superior officer, but don’t think I’ll take your shit, Sir.”

Barnes laughs.  “I just mean, I’ve been trying to hit on you for months now.  If you lost someone, a girl someone, well, of course, you’re not going to be interested in me.”

“You’ve lost someone too?”  You ask.

Barnes shakes his head.  “I was the lost one.  What I’m worried about is how Steve is reacting to me being gone.  He kind of get’s a little single-minded when it comes to me.”

“Are you two?”  You ask, making a weird hand gesture.

He barks out a laugh.  “Steve and me?  No.  You wouldn’t be the first one to think it though.  We’re just family, ya know?  We like to take turns worrying about each other.”

You laugh and a smile lights up his face crinkling his eyes at the corners.  He touches your leg.  

“That’s the first time I’ve ever heard you laugh.”  He says.  

You start talking about lighter things and once again you must have fallen asleep because you’re both suddenly leaning against each other blinking around in a room drenched in sunlight from a non-existent sun.

You sit up suddenly blinking at him.  “Morning.”  He says, smiling at you.

“Do you remember falling asleep?”  You ask him.  

He furrows his brow.  “Yes.”  He pauses.  “Uh, no.  Maybe.  Shit.  That’s weird.”

The two of you decide to go walk for as long as you can while still allowing for time to get back before the lights switch off.  By midday, you see a cabin in the distance.  You decided to head to that instead of back.  The light is fading by the time you reach it.  

It’s your cabin.  The one you left this morning.

“We must have got turned around,”  Barnes says.  

“You know we didn’t.”  You mutter.  

“We must have.  We’ll try again tomorrow.”

Tonight you join him drinking.  The level of fear you have is too much to deal with.  You get very drunk and the sudden wake up happens a lot sooner than on previous nights.  However, you wake with no hangover.  Just suddenly you are aware of the light.  

Days pass.  Weeks even.  Your fear ramps up and then dials back.  No one has attacked you.  You must have been forced into some weird other-plane of existence.  It’s unlikely you’ll be found, but at least you’re safe.  The food appears to be limitless.  You’ll just have to get used to it being you and Barnes.  

You both sit drinking wine and staring at the fire.  “Do you think they’ve had a funeral for us, sir?”  You ask.  

His face falls.  “I think they might have.  Steve won’t have given up yet.  I hope to hell he does though.  He can’t let finding me consume him like it did before.”

“I wonder if anyone came to mine.”  You muse.  

Barnes touches your leg.  “I would have.”  He says.

You start to laugh.  “Was that supposed to be you flirting again? ‘Hey baby, if I was back in the real world and we thought you were dead, I’d mourn.’  No wonder I never noticed you flirting before.”

Barnes laughs loudly.  It takes over his whole body and it isn’t long before you’re both clutching at each other in hysterics.  Anytime one of you thinks you have it under control the other one sets it off again.  

“I’ll have you know, I never had any trouble getting dates,”  Barnes says when he does finally get himself under control.

“Well, that’s because you’re freakishly good looking, sir.”  You say.

He looks away from you and blushes, his hand going through his hair.  “I am?  I thought it was because I was devilishly charming.”  

“No.  It is definitely not that.”  

You wake again pressed against Barnes half aware that you fell asleep but still unsure if you did or not.  His arm is wrapped around you this time.  The steel is cold against your skin.  

He looks down at you smiling.  “Why do we never sleep in a bed?”  You ask.

“I don’t know.   It’s like we just both pass out every night.”

“Yeah, maybe that’s what happens.”  You say getting up.

You both spend the day cleaning the cabin.  Without formally agreeing to anything you both have seemed to have resigned to the fact you’re stuck here.  If you’re stuck here then you may as well be comfortable.  

You head to the bedroom thinking maybe tonight you could try and sleep in an actual bed.  You open the door and you’re greeted by what might be the most terrifying thing that’s happened so far.

The bedroom is spotless.  Not only is it spotless the bed itself looks like it’s been made up with new sheets and comforters.  The absolute worst bit is - there are candles lit and rose petals scattered over the floor and bed.  

“Sergeant Barnes.”  You call.

He appears at the other end of the hall.  “Can you please call me Bucky?”  He says.

You shake your head and point to the bedroom.  He walks up behind you and looks in the room.  “Uh, doll.  You won’t even call me by my name.  I think it’s too soon for that.”

“I didn’t do this.  I thought you did this.”  You yelp, shoving him.

Barnes shakes his head.

“We have got to get out of here.”  You whisper.

Time passes in a way where you know you experienced it, but then you aren’t sure either.  You have memories of things that happened.  You and Barnes become more comfortable around each other.  You start sharing more about yourselves.  Your childhood, the things you’d both lost over time.  You tell him about your girlfriend. How you were on a mission together and you got lazy and she pushed you out of the way of a sniper and died when you should have been the one that died.  He tells you of the day he fell from a train and woke up, but not really. How the people who he used to fight now used him as a weapon.

“I have a question that I can’t quite figure out a way to phrase that won’t make me sound like a complete jerk,”  Barnes says.  

“Best to say it quickly then, sir.”  You reply.

“Why were you on our team?”  He asks.

“You don’t think I belonged?”  You ask.

“I don’t know.  It’s just everyone on the team.  We, well…”

“What about Agent Barton?”  You say, knowing how that sentence ends.  

He raises his eyebrow at you.  

“I’m enhanced.  But I don’t like showing people.  Captain Rogers knows what I can do.”  You say. “When I do it, it makes people question reality.  Then they get scared.”

“I’m already questioning reality, doll.  Why not show me?”  Barnes says.

You sigh and go to find your things.  You had a note pad and pen in your utility belt.  Those were important for your powers to work.  You sit down next to him.  “Let’s say I gave you a gift right now.  It was wrapped and in a box.  What would you like to be in that box?”  You ask.

“Beer.  Damn, I could kill for a beer right now.”  He says.

You grin and start drawing a box.  It’s simple and you draw a bow on it.  You pinch the paper and pull.  The box emerges from the paper. It’s lopsided and exactly as it did when it was just a drawing.  Lined paper and everything.  Only now it’s three dimensional and large enough to hold a six pack of beer.

“Here you go.”  You say handing it to him.  He looks at you his eyes wide.  You knew there was nothing you could do to prepare him for what just happened.  “Bucky.  It’s fine.”  

“You called me, Bucky.”  He says.  

“Mm-hmm.”  You hum, pushing the box into his hand.  He unwraps it and pulls the six-pack of Stella out of it.

“What the hell?”  He says.

“Yeah, I don’t know why I need to draw a box.  Like I just made that out of nothing.  Why can’t I just go ‘beer please’ and there be beer.  If I draw the beer it works, but it’s off.  Because it’s a drawing of beer.  But if draw a box just about anything can be in it.”  You explain.

“Anything can be in the box?”  He says.

“Yeah.  I mean.  I can’t draw your childhood dog and that be in there.  But a dog could be in there.”  You say.  “Please don’t look at me like that.  I told you I hate showing people.”  

“That’s really amazing.  You’re amazing.”  Bucky says.  “Hey wait, if you can do this.  Did you set up the bedroom?”  

You shake your head.  “No.  I swear.  I have no idea how that happened.  Although.  Are you finding time weird?  I feel like time is skipping not traveling forward like normal.”

Bucky shakes his head.  “I remember things.”

“I don’t like this place, Bucky.”  You say.  “I feel like people are messing with us.  Do you think Hyrda put us here to see what we did?”

“I spent so many years with Hydra.  I don’t think even they have this kind of technology.”  

You wake again resting against Bucky’s chest.  This time he doesn’t have his shirt on.  He leans down and kisses you and for a second you forget that you’ve been doing that for weeks now.  Then you remember how after you started calling him Bucky you started to not see him as your superior officer anymore.  How he had touched your leg again and you’d taken his hand in yours.  How he’d questioned the fact that you had an ex-girlfriend and when you’d said you like men too he’d leaned in and kissed you.

“Morning, doll.”  He said.  

“Morning, babe.”  You say and turn over in his arms so you’re pressed up against him.  You run your finger across his lips and stare down at him.

“What’re you doing, dahlin’?”

You bring your lips to his, licking along to top of his mouth.  He hums and sucks your bottom lip as he pulls away from you.  “I love you, doll.  But I cannot start the day with another cold shower.”  

Wait, when did he start saying the L word?  You shake your head and the memory of you telling him you loved him a month ago fills your head.  How he returned it a week later.

“What’s wrong?”  He asks, stroking his hand along your jaw.

“That time thing again.”  You say.  “It feels like things didn’t happen until I focused on them.”

“What did you forget?”  He asks.

“I felt like I forgot everything then. That we were way back at the start when I’d just started using your name.”  You say.

“You forgot that I was in love with you?”  He asks.

You nod.  “God, Buck. That was scary.   I feel like I’m losing my mind.”

His lips brush over yours.  “I’m right here.  You’re safe.”

You lean your head against his chest and he runs his fingers through your hair.  “Bucky?”  

“Mm?”

“I’m ready.”  You say.

You’re in the bedroom and it’s how you last saw it.  The candles and the rose petals.  For a second you forgot how you got here, then you don’t even care because Bucky is kissing a trail down your naked body.  His tongue goes between your folds and you moan.  Every touch he makes sends jolts through you.  It’s like he can’t do anything wrong.  He pushes one of his metal fingers into your cunt, and while you think logically there is a high chance of pinching between the plates, it’s nothing but good.  

You come apart under his touches, and when your orgasm hits you, you chant his name. He crawls back up your body and while you kiss he enters you.  You groan loudly.  For a second you try to think about a time that sex has ever felt this good.  Has there ever been an encounter where your other partner could do no wrong?   You cling to him as he kisses you, thrusting harder and harder into you.  You come again and again until finally he spills into you too and you both collapse on the bed side by side panting.

“That felt like how people pretend sex is.”  You say.

“It was pretty amazing.  Doll, when did you learn to do that thing with your tongue?”  He asks.

“What?”  You ask.

“When you were …”  He gestures to his crotch.  “You know.”  

You’re confused for a second and then remember how you had sucked his cock too.  How did you forget that?

You get up and run to the bathroom, throwing up into the toilet.

Bucky appears behind you.  He’s dressed again.  How did he dress so fast?  “I’m telling you.  It’s morning sickness.”

You look up at him in a mixture of nausea and confusion.  “What?”

“It’s been going on for weeks now.  We haven’t been careful enough.  How am I gonna deliver a baby on my own?”  

“Right.  For weeks.”  You say. “I forgot.”

He helps you to your feet.   You’re dressed too.  These blackouts are just becoming annoying now.  “At least you asked me to marry you before this happened.”  You say.

Bucky frowns.  “I hate that we can’t do all of this properly.  Have out life with other people.”

“Yeah me too.”

You’re lying on the couch with Bucky and he’s rubbing his hand over your baby bump before you have time to wonder what happened during this blackout your pushing, and there’s so much pain and you can hear Bucky soothing you telling you, you’re doing a great job.  Then you’re outside under the non-existent sun and your son and daughter are playing together.

You look to Bucky and he seems so happy and all you are is confused.  “Bucky?”  You say.

“What’s wrong, doll?”  He says, he looks so happy.

“I love you.”  You say and try and fill in the holes yourself.

“You blacked out again, didn’t you?  How much time?”  He asks.

“We were having sex for the first time.”  You say.  

“Doll.  Are you okay?  That was 12 years ago.”  He says.  He cups your face in his hands and looks into your eyes.  “What are our kids' names?”

“Steven and Alice.”  You answer.  

He smiles.  “That’s right.  God, you worried me.”  

The sun goes out and Bucky grips your shoulder.  “Do you smell that?”  He asks.

“Smell what?”  You ask.

“It’s like ammonia.”

“I don’t smell anything.”  You say.  The world does seem to be going fuzzy though.  

Bucky opens his eyes and blinks up at the faces hovering over him.  “Stevie?”  He asks.

“Hey pal, you alright?  You’ve been out for about an hour.”   He answers.

Bucky sits up and his head spins.  “What?  But I was gone?  Where’s Y/N?”  

“Who?”  Steve asks.  “Maybe you should lie down, Buck.”

“We were gone. Where is she?  She was an agent.”  Bucky says trying to get to his feet.  Frantic to find the woman he loves.  His children.

Steve puts a hand on his shoulder.  “There’s no one by that name, Buck.  I think you’ve been dreaming.”

Bucky clutches at his chest.  “We were going to get married.  I had kids, Steve.”  

Steve runs his fingers through Bucky’s hair.  “Lie down.  You’re safe.  It was just a dream.”

“I lived my life, Steve,”  Bucky says, struggling to hold tears back.  “I was happy.”

“You’re gonna be fine, pal.  Just need to clear your head.”

// NEXT

[srawesleyghuewrites]

Back To You - Chapter 7

Series: Back To You(Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6)

For desktop users: masterlist

For mobile users: mobile masterlist

Pairing: Drake x MC(Anna Grey)

Faceclaim: Daniel di Tomasso as Drake Walker, Elizabeth Olsen as Anna Grey and Paul Wesley as King Liam

Book: The Royal Romance

Word Count: ~ 1700

Rating:  M for language

Prompt:

Drake and Anna finally face her decision and all the consequences that follow.

Author’s Note:

HEY EVERYBODY!!! I’VE MISSED YOU GUYS AND TUMBLR SOOOO MUCH IT’S NOT EVEN POSSIBLE... I’ve been away from tumblr for quite a while now, because I’ve been studying and writing like a mad woman but now along with THE ROYAL HEIR, I’M BACK!!!!!!!!!

And so is my good old Back To You fanfic, I’ve finished writing and now I’ll start posting again. It’s a lot of angst until the very end(which might me angst too???) and I hope you all like it, keep reading and comenting about that.

I’m really glad to be back and very excited to be a part of this wonderfull comunity agaaaain. So, grab your tissues and read along!

Let me know if you wanna be in or out of the tag list and I appreciate feedback!(And I’m not sure the tags are working so always check my blog for updates):

@debramcg1106 @simplyaiden-blog @lizeboredom @writtenbycandy @drakewalkerwhipped@naomisveil @nazarihoe @taliahunt @cocomaxley @mymandrake @the-everlasting-dream @honeylightningambition @walkerismychoice @drakewalkerstan@trueauthor @innerpostmentality  @liam-rhys @agent-zephyrkah  @her-imperial-hangman-s  @wolfsterrr @bluediamondsapphire @glorious-fandoms  @desperue @bellamystorms@journeytohomesworld @fanfictionrecommendations-com @liamxs-world @easyobsession @nikkis1983 @tacohead13 @findingdrake @beautifulobsessionforpink @jenp02cutie-blog  @confessionsofabrokegirl @mrsnazario1223 @trr-fangirl @littleredroseonthevalley@darley1101  @moodygrip @missevabean  @pilitella  @littlewonderbear  @queen-maximoff  @puppymaster101   @clarissafics  @boneandfur  @countrymusicandncis-blog  @damienazariostan   @mpbeaumont  @christopher-powell  @bella-ca @asprankle  @sue9659​  @american-duchess​   @parkerattano​  @ads0036  @personthatlovesshippings​   @eileendannie​

Disclaimer: The characters don’t belong to me(except for Anna Grey),  I just borrow them from Pixelberry!

The consequences are brutal

We never got it right

Playing and replaying old conversations

Overthinking every word and I hate it

'Cause it's not me ('cause it's not me)

Previously

“Liam proposed.”

“Oh…”

“An-n-nd I sa-aid no.”

The words are as blurry as her vision and Anna’s not sure why the tears are building up, maybe because that’s the first time she told this to someone or because she’s finally confessing just how deep her feelings for him go, either way her hands are starting to sweat. And the time it takes for him to express any reaction is torture, like there’s an ocean of possibilities hanging in those inches between them. She can see her future, their future being decided and it scares her every bone.

On the other side, Drake’s brain is still trying to make sense of what she just told him. Running through many different scenarios where this is a dream, a prank, if Anna is having a delusional moment or maybe if she’s really telling him the truth and she doesn’t wanna marry Liam, but Maxwell or Hana. He’s well aware of how everybody has fallen for her graces and though he doesn’t think anything happened between them, it’s way more possible than what he wishes for it to mean: that she’s not marrying Liam because she loves him and wants to be with him.

“What?”

She tries to recompose herself, breathing deep and letting the air leave her lungs along with all the hesitation from before. The decision was already made and now Anna has to own it, so she repeats the sentence in a firm tone, her green eyes filled with tears now have a gleam of confidence:

“Liam proposed to me, and I said no.”

He opens his mouth but nothing comes out. It doesn’t make any sense and he barely knows what to think, even less what to say. Anna’s already growing impatient, after everything she had to go in order to get this moment and when everything’s finally arranged Drake simply freezes. She takes a step closer to him, her hand coming up to caress his arm to get his attention and it works because his dark irises shift to her fingertips touching him. However he just stands there, looking at her little affectionate move until Grey finally breaks the silence and speaks again.

“It would be nice if you said something right about…” She pretends to check a clock on her wrist “ now.”

“Wh… why?”

“You know why.”

Another step towards him and now she’s standing so close he could easily wrap his arms around her, which is why she moved at all. There’s the hint of a smile on her lips, a provocative one, hope that this will answer his unfounded question. Why the hell would she say no to Liam and then come tell him? For Anna seems pretty obvious, meanwhile Drake struggles not to get distracted with her proximity. He needs her to tell him.

“I need you to tell me Grey.”

She takes his face in her hands, forcing his eyes to find hers, both of them with sparkly tears building up. From this close she can see the how tense he’s by the way his breathing catches every now and then and he can see the loving smile that takes place on her lips. Soon touching his in a gentle kiss.

“Because I love you.”

He doesn't have time to smile and answer because somebody knocks on the door and they both jump, wondering who could that be when the sweet voice of Hana is heard in a whisper:

“Anna, Liam is looking for you and he said it was important. Sorry to disturb.”

Hana hates the fact that he has to do this, but the worry in Liam’s voice and his commendatory tone left her no choice. Maybe he was just hurt from the rejection, or maybe it was something actually serious, anyway she wouldn’t risk it.

On the other side of the door Anna and Drake exchange a look. His is a sad one, like the moment they just lived escaped through his fingers too fast and there’s nothing he can do about it. Hers is an apologetic one, hope written all over her features as she takes one last look at him before opening the door to find not only Hana but Liam standing next to them.

Hana doesn't seem to notice the king right away, not understanding the shocked look in their eyes until a deep voice comes from behind her:

“I was just coming to tell Hana it wasn't so urgent, but I guess I'm too late.”

The words cut through the air like a sharp knife, hurting more than just one heart as the guilt appears in both Anna and Drake’s faces, and the pain in Liam’s. Finding them getting out of a bedroom together definitely wasn’t on his plans and it feels like a punch to the gut, though, with his many years of training if there’s one thing he’s learned is to recompose quickly.

“Well, I was waiting to explain to you how we’re going to present you officially as a Duchess but that can wait, for I know you two have other matters to discuss.”

“Our conversation can wait too Liam, don’t worry. I’ll leave you to it.”

Drake motions to leave, however the King stops him by putting a hand on his chest,  staring at his best friend’s eyes with a mix of anger and sorrow. He got the girl of his dreams, he’s been winning her heart during the moments Liam couldn’t be there, and as happy he wants to feel for them nothing could hurt so much as the way Anna’s still staring intently at Drake, not him.

“Please Drake, I didn’t intend to disturb your moment so do not let me. Lady Hana, shall we go? I’m afraid Maxwell might do something dangerous without any supervision around.”

Hana quickly nods, a relieved smile crossing her face as she interlaces her arm with Liam’s. They engage in a conversation about the young Beaumont and leave Anna and Drake alone together with a polite wave.

The second they cross the hallway, getting out of their sight, Anna closes the door behind her attracting Drake’s attention. He looks at her through the could of pain, guilt, shame since he knows Liam to well to realize how badly they’ve hurt him.

“Did you told him about us?”

“Yes. Would you prefer I lied?”

“I don’t know Grey. All I know is that your decision crushed him.”

He brings his hands to his face in a desperate act to calm himself down from the mess they made. Now that she’s not caressing him anymore and the memories of Liam’s devastated expression just a few moments ago keep coming to him, there’s no more comfort to linger on. And Anna’s not giving him anything until he’s done with the bullshit, which is why she answers in a rispid tone.

“I’m not here to talk about him.”

“How can we not? What else is there to talk about?”

“Us Drake! We have to talk about us.”

“But Liam…”

“Why? Why do you still fight this like hell? Why do you put him between us?”

“Grey…”

“Answer me.”

Her angry tone is evident and suddenly everything feels too big right now. That’s why he doesn’t even think before blurting out:

“I don’t put him between us, that was all you.”

“Oh you want to play that game huh? Yeah Drake, I was the one who got involved with the two of you at the same time and I was the one who made Liam fall in love with me but I said no, alright? I said no to him and took him out of the equation, because it wasn’t fair to anybody. And you’re the one who doesn’t let him go.”

Anna lets out a gasp and then a dry laugh, thinking about how stupid she’s for still being there trying to make him understand that they’re free to be together. She’s not sure that this is still what he wants, the thought makes her shake her head ‘no’ to stay there and she starts to walk away from him.

Until he stops her by holding her arm gently, Drake’s eyes finally facing hers after she told him ‘I love you’ and for a moment she believes everything will fall into place. Little did she know that Drake was still confused about the situation, about how anyone would ever reject Liam to be with him, he’s still looking for a hidden reason. And being tired of the subjectivity of their talk, he decides to go straight to the point:

“Why didn’t you say yes?”

“I already told you that Drake.”

Being Liam’s shadow is a habit as old as himself, and a very hard one to turn away from so Drake can’t help but compare everything about both of them and everytime he does that, someone chooses Liam over him. It’s the obvious choice, the only choice.

“But why? It doesn’t make sense. He wants to pamper you, take you on fancy romantic dates, be the perfect gentleman. Fuck, he wants to marry you Grey, to give you a castle, a title, a crown, a whole fucking kingdom. He wants to give you a future, he can give you a future. He wants to. Liam wants everything with you.”

“And you can’t… or you don’t want to?”

Drake doesn’t know the answer, he has no idea if he’s ready to give her a whole future or if the future he can give her will be enough. The little box in his pocket makes all the situation harder, after everything he still believes she would be happier with Liam. That she should be happier with Liam and that he’s just standing in the middle, being something to distract Grey from her real destiny and love.

To Anna, his silence is answer enough and she doesn’t wait the tears forming in her eyes to fall before unhooking her arm from his hand and walking away. From not just the moment, or the fight, or Drake, but from all what they could’ve been.

To be continued...

[lifeofmarvvel]

The Song Sirens Sing Part 5

Word Count: 3162

Warnings: Violence, Injuries, angst (I guess?? Does this count??), literally it’s mostly pirates fighting 

A/N: I’m sorry it’s been so long since the last update! I got caught up in writing other stuff (Cliche Costume Contest + a few blurbs for those who haven’t read them yet). To make up for it here is an entirely Peter focused chapter. It took me sooo long to write the action scene, so I hope you guys like it!

Series Masterlist

Part 4

Peter’s heart was ripped out. Simultaneously, he felt refreshed and new. They were finally out on the ocean again. Back to regular pirate duties. But his heart was stranded on the shoreline of Wakanda. He left it in the spot he officially met (Y/N). And he knew- oh, man, he knew- that it would probably stay there for the rest of this life.

He sat up in the crows nest, supposedly watching for any other ships or danger. In reality, he got lost in his thoughts. After Shuri deemed him okay, he was sent to bed like a misbehaving toddler and the next day they took off. He wasn’t the happiest around the rest of the crew, but he sure was glad he could get away from everything for the moment. They would be on the water for the next few months, as they crossed the Marvel Ocean again; this time towards Sokovia for a deal with some other pirate ship. Or so he was told. Peter was sure it was going to be a while before Tony trusted him not to run off into harm’s way for a while.

Even the Falcon’s teasing couldn’t bring him out of his thoughts, and the man eventually gave up. No use in talking to a non-responsive sponge. They sat in silence, though Sam paid much more attention than Peter.

Eventually, Sam broke the silence. “Hey kid, you’re kinda scaring me. Usually, you take after Tony and never shut up but I haven’t heard you talk once since breakfast.” He looked over at him. He had curled his legs into his body and wrapped his arms around them, head on top, looking out into the vast blue.

At Sam’s words, he glanced over before looking back. “I don’t feel like talking right now,” he replied.

Sam shrugged. “If it suits you.” Peter was glad when Sam turned back to the ocean. When Bucky walked below deck, he heard Sam start to shout various passive-aggressive comments. It never was a dull moment with those two. But he wasn’t interested this time. Not much was going to get him out of his head.

Little did Peter know, they were not crossing the Marvel Ocean to make a deal. They were crossing to take down a pirate ship: the SS Kaufmann. It was part of a bigger fleet called HYDRA that was up to no good- at least where the SS Avengers were concerned. The fleet was led by a pirate known as Strucker. Originally from Sokovia, he worked on human experimentation, which led to them releasing whatever chemicals “didn’t work” into the ocean.

Over time, the correct combination emerged for what he wanted. But he never knew about it; it was in the ocean, giving all the mers off the coast powers. Thus, the Maximoff twins. There were naturally occurring powers amongst the mers, but the spill brought in scores of them- well, the ones that survived the chemicals, that is.

Strucker had made his getaway on a ship once the government discovered his actions, vowing to become a pirate to not get caught, and it gave him more range over what he could do. Not only could he continue what he was doing, but he could also take down other pirate ships. He particularly chose the SS Avengers. They were after him so they could regain deals that had been stolen by HYDRA. They didn’t know about the other stuff Strucker had done- not yet, at least- and it didn’t matter all that much. There were other groups dealing with that. Currently, both groups were headed right for Strucker, not that they knew. But Strucker had a clue they were, and they were in for quite the treat when they arrived.

Eventually, Tony called Peter and Sam down to the deck. “We’re going to have a crew meeting,” he announced loudly. He turned to Peter menacingly. “And you,” he pointed an accusing finger at him, “are going to swab the deck while we do so.”

Peter’s jaw dropped, even though he expected it. It was hard to build Tony’s trust, and you were screwed if you betrayed that trust. Peter’s case was small in comparison to Stark’s past experiences, but they wouldn’t be on good terms for a long while.

“Fine,” he mumbled, grabbing the nearest mop. The hands filed away, leaving Peter to sulk while he spread the dirt around the bow. The fresh air felt nice and all, but this just rubbed salt into a wound.

A while later, the crew came back out and set back to their regular duties. Conditions stayed same through the next day and a half. Spider-Man and Falcon once again sat in the crow’s nest when a ship came into view. “Sail ho!” Sam called out, swooping out of the nest and down to the deck. Peter, unsure of what happened, quickly crawled his way down.

“Avengers Assemble! All hands to stations!” Captain America called out. The whole crew, knowing what to do, raced around, gathering weapons and cannons, and getting into position. Peter whipped around, vexed and perplexed about the situation.

“Will somebody please explain to me what’s going on?” he called out. The hands ignored him, going about their assignments. Someone shoved a small dagger into his hands when they sped by, but that was it.

Thankfully, Bruce came to the rescue. He gave him a quick rundown about why they were attacking Strucker at the moment (securing a deal) and nothing about the past. He got whisked away, and Peter was sent back to the crow’s nest “for his safety.” Nobody wanted the responsibility if the teenager’s status changed to KIA.

Peter sat down, the noise on the deck and below it shrinking from a roar to an ominous grumble. He knew for a fact Rhodey would be preparing cannons right now with a few other crew members. Falcon, on a fighting top. The co-captains stood on the stern of the ship, looking fierce. Peter could easily see how the names Captain America and Iron Man struck fear into the hearts of other pirates, much like the iron weapon that once struck Tony’s chest.

The SS Kaufmann loomed closer. Their crew ran about, just as busy as the Avenger’s deck. The water churned eerily like it was expecting to feed on one of the two ships in a moment’s notice. The ships drew near each other, expecting a fight to commence any second.

Once the ship’s starboard faced their port, a call of “fire in the hole,” could be heard and cannons opened fire; the SS Kaufmann crew swung over onto the deck of the SS Avengers. A few had cutlasses, some belaying pins, and more.

Immediately, fighting broke out across the deck. Metal against metal, clinging ringing through the air. The crew spread out, defending themselves, all representing their reputations clearly. Sam darted around quickly, using some ropes to swing himself between opponents, looking like a falcon flying through the air. Oftentimes quiet Bruce had made his way onto the SS Kaufmann, turning it into a hulk by slowly destructing it. Who knew he had it in him?  And that was just the start of it all. Other Avengers followed him to the SS Kaufmann.

The crew of the SS Kaufmann proved themselves a mighty foe. They kept up with the Avengers easily, strike for strike. Peter peered over the edge. The fingers connected to his non-dagger hand twitched, eager, but no clear opening into the fight presented itself. He waited, eyes sharp and awareness heightened.

The total-cloud coverage cast odd shadows, making the fight look more like something out of a tall tale than a live event. But still, Peter watched. Individual shouts which rose above the grumble made it hard to concentrate on one specific thing. A shout from the stern caught his attention. Stark and Rogers engaged in a two-on-one fist fight with Strucker. Cannonballs sailed through the air, most missing and instead hitting the water. The resulting splashes doused the decks, drawing the fight amidship. Blunderbuss shots rang through the air, running out quickly.

Another shout and he turned towards the bow. A Kaufmann keeled over in pain. Hope slashed her cutlass with precision, taking pirates down as she went. “Remember dead men tell no tales!” someone roared above the noise. “Plow the men down!”

Yet another shout and Peter started to turn. But then a voice called out- far too close for his liking. “Now what do we have here?” it crooned. “Why, it must be the young lad, hidin’ for his life.” A quick glance showed Peter a Kaufmann, climbing up to the crow’s nest.

He was stuck. Dead end.

Thinking quickly, he remembered the dagger in his hand. He placed it between his teeth and swung over the edge onto the ropes. Channeling his inner spider, he raced down, trying to stay opposite of where the Kaufmann headed. “Oh no, ye don’t!” the pirate hollered. His teeth, bright yellow, gleamed despite the low light.

Before he could help it, they were even.

They reached for weapons at the same time. Peter: his dagger. Yellow Teeth: a dirk. The fight looked in favor of Peter. He was younger, more agile and his blade was double-sided, not just single-sided. But then again, the pirate had experience, was stronger, and most definitely knew what was going on. So maybe not.

Yellow Teeth lunged. Peter leaned back. He swayed, and grasped onto the rope tighter. It might give him rope burn later, but what mattered was staying alive. Aim for the fingers, he thought.

Peter lunged. The pirate blocked with his arm. Peter moved downward. The closer to the ground, the less likely to get killed. He slashed at the legs. Yellow Teeth lifted his feet; he moved even with Peter.

Yellow Teeth jabbed at Peter’s thigh. He barely stopped the blade with his own blade. Using all his strength, he pressed against the resistance and lifted both their arms slowly. The pirate’s side now open, Peter lifted his legs and kicked him. He bounced right back. “Now, listen here, laddie. Yer not gettin’ away easy.”

Again, Peter scrambled down. He hung about halfway down now. Still too high. He’d heard the stories of sailor slipping down the crow’s nest and dying. He didn’t want to join those stories.

Yellow Teeth kept just on his tail. They continued to spar, blade on blade. Bit by bit, they made their way down the rope. A lunge, a duck, a block, a swing. It kept on coming and wouldn’t stop. Closer to the bottom; closer to the edge of the rope ladder.

Yellow Teeth pushed. Peter tumbled. One second, both hands grasped the rope. The next, he slipped down. Peter’s heart dropped as he struggled to hold on. No, he thought. No no no no no. He watched the pirate smile, rotten teeth on display. “G’bye, little laddie.”

He raised his foot. Peter- realizing he still had his dagger- raised his hand. When the foot crushed his hand, he jabbed his dagger into it. His fingers, forced off the rope, let go.

Yellow Teeth howled, loud and strong. He lifted his foot, forcing Peter to abandon his dagger. His fingers slipped off it, one by one. Unable to get a steady grip on anything, he fell.

Air rushed through his ears and clouded his senses, dimming the continuous clangs from cutlasses. It enveloped him like a blanket, but instead of warming him, it stung. Peter’s feet slipped from underneath him, turning him onto his back. His stomach turned while he dropped. Farther, faster, out of control. The rope was too far, then all too close. He hit its side and flipped, beginning to turn in circles. Nothing could stop it now.

Somersaulting through the air involuntarily, Peter caught glimpses of the fight. Not much- simply flashes of sunlight on blades or glimpses of the ocean churning. Soon, it blurred together. He didn't know how long he had until impact. Peter braced himself, waiting, waiting, waiting. He must have fallen higher than he thought if he was still falling. Or maybe he was falling in slow motion. (But that seemed preposterous.)

THUD!

Peter hit the deck, pain shocking his senses. He couldn't hear anything but a sharp ringing. Everything was black. Was he dead or were his eyes closed? Did he pass out? He couldn't tell. It was hard to breathe. Peter didn’t even realize he had the wind knocked out of him until he gasped. Did the pain come from the impact or did something break? Again, hard to tell.

It all blurred together. He hoped nobody had their fight make their way towards him- that would guarantee injuries. He laid there, gasping like a fish out of water. Well, a grounded pirate isn’t much different, is it? If the fight ended yet, he couldn’t tell. Nothing stood out.

In the midst of the ringing, a faint cheering arose. His hearing started to come back. Cheering? Who was cheering? Why? Peter had no chance of getting up anytime soon. He had no way of figuring out. How long had he been lying there by now?

“Kid?” he heard, somewhere in the distance. “Hey, Pete, are you alright?” They sounded concerned. They sounded familiar. It almost sounded like…..

“Tony?” Peter gasped, struggling to talk. He still hadn’t caught his breath. Tony continued to ask questions, not that Peter heard any of them. All he could make out was mumbling. Something else broke through, louder than before. “Can you open your eyes? Is that doable?”

Oh. So he wasn’t dead. That was a good sign. Then, Peter realized his eyelids felt heavy. It took most of his remaining energy, but he managed.

The light, which previously had looked dim, now blinded Peter momentarily. He squinted while his vision came into focus. Tony knelt in front of him, and he laid on his side, arm underneath him. Tony’s face was riddled with small cuts and bruises. A frown graced his face, and his eyebrows furrowed.

“You took quite the fall there, lad. I glanced up right when you slipped. Had to have been at least fifteen feet.” Peter grunted in response. “I’m going to try to pick you up now. Is that okay?” Tony scooped him up when Peter repeated his actions.

“Alright, we gotta get you patched up.” With that, he took off for the sick bay.

The SS Avengers had lucked out when it came to time between their visit to Wakanda and the battle. Due to the temporary aligning, the crew had stocked up on more medicine and other supplies than they usually held.

Bruce made sure to work fast and efficiently, and soon enough, all the injured had been treated. All things considered, the turnout was good. No severe injuries besides Peter’s and one crew member who had a finger chopped off by a cutlass. The ship only had a few holes that needed fixing. They had been lucky this time around.

Peter’s arm hand broken in multiple places on impact and Bruce had set it with practiced ease. He sat on a chair, examining the new cast. Pirates are typically known for not being hygienic, but thanks to Wakanda all their medical supplies were brand new. The white bandages- held together by a wooden splint- should have been in a sling. Peter ignored that for the moment, deciding to put it on later.

After the adrenaline had left, Peter got to experience the full pain of multiple fractures. Earlier, his pain had been from the impact as much as the injury- or so Bruce told him. Here he sat, about half an hour later, pain from the impact gone and pure pain from the injury rolling in, with nothing to do about it. Of course, they could just give him some rum, but that just started a debate on whether or not to give a teenager alcohol- even if he was officially a pirate.

“So,” Tony said from where he was standing next to Peter. “You’re going to be on rest until we know it heals properly.” Peter opened his mouth to protest. “No buts!  You still have training to complete and it’s been postponed until you have full use of your arm again.”

He had a point. It being Peter’s dominant arm, the list of activities he could do decreased drastically. Silence filled the room, enveloping the space between mentor and mentee. Not stillness, for Bruce worked across the room on his next patient, talking in a low voice. Tony appeared deep in thought, his eyebrows once again furrowed. “Look,” he said softly, breaking the silence, “I’m only going to say this once. Listen carefully. This kind of stuff isn’t what pirates are known for saying, so I’ll give it my best shot.”

Peter, confused about where this was headed, nodded. Tony continued, “I’m sorry about leaving you out of the informational meeting. We might not be here right now if you knew what was going on. That was a bad decision on my part. You deserve to know; it concerns your safety, after all.”

Peter’s eyes widened. “Uh, thank you, Captain. Apology accepted.” Tony patted him on the shoulder. “Does- does this mean I’m allowed into the next meeting?”

Tony chuckled. “Yes, this means you’re allowed in.”

Silence rang out again, though this time it settled more comfortably. Almost like a warm blanket. “Oh- and, uh- just so you know, I don’t blame you for what happened to me,” Peter looked up at Tony hesitantly. He gave a small, shy smile, attempting to reassure his mentor.

Tony smiled back. “You’ll go far one day, kid. Don’t forget that.” He clapped his hands, then proceeded to rub them together. “I’ve got some captain stuff I need to do.” He gestured over his shoulder to the stairs. “Get some rest.” Peter rolled his eyes but nodded, and off he went. Peter watched for a moment, sighed, and stood up, headed for his quarters.

True to his promise, the following day Peter was included in the meeting. They made sure to go over who Strucker was, why they fought him, and a brief overview of the battle.

“We shrunk the Kaufmann,” Steve explained, “which is good. On the other hand-” The crew threw glances at each other. They had won, hadn’t they? What could possibly be bad news? “-Strucker somehow got away. We’re not sure how. The Kaufmann sunk and his crew is dead. Still, he got away in the chaos. We’ll continue with our plan to attack the rest of the HYDRA fleet.”

Someone said, “Great, all the celebration rum was wasted for not,” to which someone else responded, “Rum can’t be wasted unless it’s not drunk,” but Peter paid it no attention. There were bigger problems at hand.

Fleet? Got away? Oh, boy, were they in for some trouble.

Part 6

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