#you’ll be put on the guest list or brought backstage through a back door or they will go out of their way to the audience to talk to you and

[mcwriting]

Starstruck (10; finale)

honestly this could be read standalone if you haven’t read any other parts of this story but it would definitely help with context

Here it is!! It’s been over a year coming with lots of ups and downs and hiatuses and it’s finally here! I’m so thankful for everyone who’s been on this journey with me and the people who have joined along the way!

Please don’t hesitate to stick around! Message me, ask questions, make requests! I’ve got big things coming and I’d love to add you to my taglist ;)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10

Ship: Tom Holland x Reader

Setting: LA

Word Count: 3228

Warnings: Mild language, a little bitty bit of angst but then fluff

Rating: K+

                            __________________________________

You woke up at 8 Friday morning excited for the day ahead. You turned your head to see b/f/n still asleep on the other side of your bed, so you grabbed your phone and scrolled through social media.

It seemed like Tom had gone quiet on social media, and therefore people seemed to tag you in less things about him.

After about an hour, b/f/n finally rolled over and stretched.

“Well hello there,” she said, voice somewhat raspy.

“You ready for today?” you immediately asked. A sly smile crept on to her face.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

The previous night had been spent pampering yourselves with facemasks and deep hair conditioning, so you felt your skin and hair were prepped for getting made up that afternoon.

You started off the morning with breakfast, then hung out for a while. After lunch, you go to work on your hair.

B/f/n helped you get bouncy curls and you pinned her hair into a low updo. It took another hour to get your makeup done in full glam. You didn’t skimp out on glitter and highlight.

Finally, it was time to get dressed. B/f/n suited up first, wearing a red gown with a layered tulle skirt, then you put on your blue dress. 

You said your final goodbyes to your parents and headed to the venue. 

                             __________________________________

Tom, Harrison, and Harry were rushing around the house getting last minute finishing touches from Christine, who’d been available to come style them and would keep it on the down low.

“Tom stop squirming! I’m trying to get this curl to lay right!” she exclaimed, fawning over his hair.

“I’m sorry, I just can’t sit still! I’m so nervous!” he explained in reply. 

They’d all explained to her the main gist of what was going on, so when Christine stopped to look right at Tom, he knew she was about to say something serious.

“Okay look at me. I’ve known you for how long now? I’ve never seen you this nervous. It’s going to be okay, Tom. No matter what happens you’ve got a great group of people to support you. You’re going to go out there tonight looking incredible and you’re going to tell the girl how you feel. You got this, man. I believe in you.”

Tom smiled at the encouragement and nodded.

“Yeah, alright. You’re right. I’ve just never felt this way before and I don’t want to mess it up.”

“You literally talked two multimillion dollar corporations into coming back together just for the character you play while drunk. I’m pretty sure you’ll handle yourself just fine tonight,” she winked, finishing everything off with some hairspray.

“Okay perfect. Now Tom, you better not mess this hair up since I worked so hard to make it lay just right. Oh, and go get Harry for me. I don’t want him having an afro tonight.”

                             __________________________________

You and b/f/n arrived a few minutes after doors opened and found your other friends already right inside taking pictures. You all fawned over each other’s wardrobes and got plenty of photos together.

You happened to miss the “ The Brother’s Trust” logo on the poster listing off the night’s sponsors, though you probably wouldn’t have known what it was anyways at first glance.

Inside, you all found a table to set your things down at while you hung out on the dance floor before the actual dinner.

As more people, young and old, showed up, the dance floor became more crowded and it was fun to let loose with your friends. What you didn’t know about was the commotion happening behind the scenes.

Tom, Harry, and Harrison pulled into the back parking lot of the venue and looked around nervously. They weren’t quite sure what to do next, so Tom called the event coordinator he’d been in contact with for the previous week.

They were directed to come to the kitchen door to be let in, so the boys sprinted across the lot to avoid anyone seeing them. The door flung open and they were quickly ushered through the kitchen into an office.

The coordinator introduced herself, then requested for them to stay there until the dinner began. Someone brought them food to eat as people in the main room started getting off the dance floor and heading to their own tables.

You were happily seated around the table waiting for your meal when a woman came onto the stage.

“Good evening, everyone. As the food is being served, I just want to thank you for your support through purchasing tickets and for the generous sponsor donations. It’s well appreciated and will be put to good use. Here in just a little bit we will be bringing out our different surprise guests, so please, sit back, enjoy and I’ll be back in a little bit to announce the first guest.”

Your table was filled with chatter over who could be speaking. There had been rumors spread about different celebrities and business owners that might come, but it had been pretty well kept under wraps.  

The first people were a band that came to play a few songs while people ate their appetizers and who promised to return to the stage later after the dinner portion was over. 

Next as everyone enjoyed their entrees was a talk show host who made everyone laugh like they were in a comedy club.

As the desserts went around, the lady from before came onto the stage again.

“Well I hope you all enjoyed that. As the desserts are going around, I’d like to introduce our final surprise guest. This person has, through his family’s charity trust, generously given a large donation to this organization. I’ve asked that he would come just say a few words as the dinner came to an end. So everyone please give a warm welcome to Mr. Tom Holland!”

There were claps and cheers all around you, but you just took a sharp gasp, glancing around and blinking furiously to make sure this wasn’t a dream (nightmare?). 

You were frozen as you watched him step out from behind a curtain and take a microphone from the woman, waving as he scanned the crowd. He was wearing a grey suit with navy accents. 

You looked to your friends who looked at you with wide eyes. B/f/n avoided eye contact.

“Good evening, everyone and thank you for the warm welcome,” he began as the cheers died down.

You again looked at b/f/n.

“Did you know about this?” you whispered accusingly. She looked down with guilt. “Oh even worse. You had a part in this, didn’t you?”

“Y/n, I can explain-” she began, but you cut her off.

“No, you know what? Save it. We’ll talk about this later,” you spat, turning back to face the stage where Tom was. If you could just make it through his little speech, then you could drag b/f/n outside to figure out what the hell was going on.

“I’m so honored to have been involved in this and am excited to see where the money given by the brother’s trust will be used.”

He continued to scan the room until his eyes finally locked on yours.

“And, um. I,” you looked away and he cleared his throat. “Excuse me, um, I’m excited to get to meet all of you after the dinner has finished…”

You realized he was still looking at you when you looked back up. You couldn’t handle this like you’d thought, so you tossed your napkin on the table and grabbed your phone, quickly trying to run out without too many people noticing.

Of course, Tom saw it from his place on the stage. He looked at b/f/n who put up her hands and gave a head nod towards the door, then got up to follow you.

“Anyways, I’ll let you get back to your desserts. Thank you all again for your support tonight,” he quickly finished, rushing off the stage to more claps and cheers. 

“Y/n just ran out, what do I do?” Tom asked hurriedly to his brothers from backstage.

“Figure out how to get out there! Where was b/f/n?” Harrison asked.

“She followed her but I don’t know how much time I have. We need to figure out the best way to avoid the crowd!” 

In the lobby, b/f/n was pleading with you to stop and calm down. You whipped around to face her, eyes misty.

“I can’t calm down, b/f/n! What the hell is going on?! How- why did you do this? I thought you said this would be the perfect night to move on and have fun, but I can’t really do that when you’re in kahoots with the guy who broke my heart! I mean what were you thinking!”

“I was thinking about you, y/n! You’ve been so depressed these past few weeks… I know you have feelings for him whether you want to admit it or not. I saw the way you smiled when we talked about that cologne the other day, and the way you get that longing look when you see a picture of him. Neither of you are over each other, and I couldn’t stand to see you like this any longer.”

“What happened to never hiding anything from each other again, huh? You didn’t think to, I don’t know, warn me before tonight that he would be here? Considering that I’m sure you’ve known about this for a while.”

“Oh come on, y/n. You wouldn’t have come tonight if you knew Tom was going to be here. He and Harrison and Harry begged me to keep it a secret so that you two would be able to have a real conversation. Tom wants to see you. Bad. Look, I’m sorry that it caught you off guard, but this was the only way I could think to get you two together.”

You sighed, still stewing over everything. 

“Yeah, I probably wouldn’t have come. But that would have been my choice. I don’t know that I want to talk to him after what he did to me. What could he even want from me, other than to mock me for not having clout or something?” You paused again. “This was supposed to be a fun night, but now all I want is to crawl in a hole and hide forever.”

B/f/n looked down again.

“Like I said, I’m sorry we did it this way, but I knew you’d say no if I asked. He’s had a change of heart, y/n. Could you please reconsider? I mean… he’s right there,” she gestured behind you and you turned around. 

There he was, in the flesh. Flanked by his brother and best friend. You crossed your arms and looked at b/f/n again.

“I’ll give him five minutes, but I swear if he does anything funny we’re leaving, okay? Promise me that.”

B/f/n looked between you and Tom’s group.

“Absolutely. Five minutes.”

She walked over to them and said a few words, Tom essentially keeping his eyes on you. She then gestured for you to follow them through a couple halls to a secluded room, leaving only you and Tom to talk.

“What do you want from me, Holland? I’m sure b/f/n told you, but you’ve got five minutes to explain yourself before I get the hell out of here.”

“And that’s all I need, y/n,” he pleaded. “I just want you to know how sorry I am. For everything. I’m sorry that I dragged you into my life unwillingly, I’m sorry for humiliating you and shunning you on a world stage. I’m most sorry for leaving you. I truly am.”

He looked down, ashamed. You were still mad, but felt a little pang in your heart.

“And that’s just supposed to make everything okay? I thought you were cool after the time we spent together. I thought I could trust you. But no, you had to listen to those awful people who you pay to be awful and go out and tell the world all about me. You chose the life of stardom, but I didn’t get that choice because of your cowardice,” you spat.

You knew somewhere in the back of your mind that you were being harsh, but everything you’d kept inside since he left was finally bubbling up again. He nodded his head in agreement.

“This doesn’t make it okay, at all. I didn’t think about the negative effects it would have on you before I put your name out to the millions of people who follow me. I was stupid and careless. And as far as my management goes, well, I fired them. After your speech went viral, what you said finally clicked. You helped me realize what dicks they were and the dick I was for listening to them.”

You stood up straight when he mentioned the last part, looking at him suspiciously.

“You- you did?” you looked around the room, even though no one else was there. “This isn’t another one of their little set ups?”

“No, no absolutely not. Do you really think they would have let me come here under their direction? Y/n, I came here because I know I messed up. Big time. I want to fix that, I want to be friends with you and I don’t know… maybe something more? I realized in these past few weeks that I am really and truly infatuated with you. And you can say no and I’ll walk out of your life for the final time, but I just needed you to know that I like you, a lot, and I’d like for you to be in my life in some way or another.”

You took a heavy breath and furrowed your brows, processing what he’d just confessed. 

He’s here, on his own accord, for me? He cares? Is this an act still?

Tom took your long pause as a no and started to walk off.

“Wait, Tom.”

He turned back to you, eyes hopeful. You breathed deep again before speaking up.

“What you did was wrong, and it hurt, but I want you in my life, too. I’ve never met anyone that I felt so comfortable with so quickly. I don’t know why… I don’t know how… but, I like you too. No matter how much I pretend to hate you for what happened, I could never find a place in my heart to actually hate you.”

You couldn’t meet his eyes, instead shaking your head, wondering what had convinced you to finally admit that out loud.

“You mean that? You actually like me too?” he asked skeptically. You couldn’t blame him.

“Yes, Tom! I like you! I can’t help but spread the cologne you gave me over my sheets, or smile when a fan tags me in one of a bajillion of those fan edits they’re always making! I think back on the conversation we had that night at my house and I wonder what made me so against being a fan of yours from the beginning. I like you Tom. I just can’t believe that you like me, too.”

He gave you a watery grin at your explosive confession.

“Can I do something that I’ve been wanting to do since the night I fell asleep right next to you?”

You had a pretty good idea of what he was suggesting, but played dumb anyways, stepping forward so that you were about a foot away.

“I don’t know, can you?”

He rolled his eyes and closed the gap between you. One of his hands found itself resting on your waist as the other reached to tip up your chin. Your own arms instinctively grabbed his jacket lapels.

The last thing you caught before closing your eyes was the way his sparkled, and then your lips met.

You felt like you were back in bed laying on your side facing Tom when he told you about his own home and family and you explained your passion for dance. It was like the next morning when you first smelled the remains of cologne woven into your bed sheets as he gripped you in his arms. It was like holding his hand in a disgusting public restroom as the adrenaline of running from the paparazzi waned.

He felt like home.

When you pulled back you were really finally starstruck. A big smile rose to your lips, as did his. 

You couldn’t contain yourself as you threw your arms around his neck and kissed him again like you’d never done with anyone else, one hand gripping his curls.

He laughed as you pulled away, letting go of you to smooth his hair.

“My stylist is gonna kill me if she knows my hair got messed up,” he joked. This time you were rolling your eyes.

“Maybe I do remember why I didn’t like you before…”

He laughed it off and pulled you into a hug, which you happily reciprocated. You didn’t realize that it had been five minutes until b/f/n burst through the door, trailed by Harrison and then Harry.

“Alright did you two solve your issu- Oh. Well then, looks like our work here is done boys,” she joked. You and Tom blushed.

That is, until Harrison pulled your best friend into his own arms, picking her up and spinning her around. You and Tom looked at each other, then them, and then Harry suspiciously. Harry just tossed his hands up and shrugged. 

“Are you two trying to steal our thunder?” you taunted after he set her down and they were lost in each other’s eyes. It was their turns for their cheeks to redden. 

“Well the only thing I’ve learned on this trip is that I should have stayed home. Maybe then I would’ve at least had Tuwaine to caress me,” Harry deadpanned, causing you all to laugh. “Well come on, then, we should get back out there. We did promise to mingle.”

Tom panickedly looked at his watch.

“Yes! Right, we should get back out there. You all go ahead and we’ll be right behind,” he said. They all left, b/f/n wrapped under one of Harrison’s arms. You were happy for her.

“So… ready for me to formally introduce us to the world together?” he asked you, holding out his forearm for you to grab.

“Not really, but this time I have you by my side,” you replied, snaking your arm around his. He smiled as you began to walk with him. “By the way, I see you matched the suit to my dress.”

“Oh you like it? Well you’re looking like a real stunner in that…” 

Your voices faded into the background as you entered the room as Tom and y/n. Y/n and Tom.

It’s not often a girl can say she’s fallen for a big time celebrity and that he’s felt the same way back, but there you were. And it’s even less often that his and hers best friends fell for each other, too, but there they were.

And you were facing a starstuck world together.

The end.

                            __________________________________

A/N: ugh this makes me soft. Thank you all again for reading and please please please hang around! I’m not planning on going anywhere just because this is done!

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[missmonsters2]

Drive Her Crazy || Part IV

PAIRING: Wanda Maximoff x OFC/Reader

Summary: AU. Meet Wanda, the new ‘It’ girl. She’s built her social standing as a social influencer through Instagram and vlogging on Youtube. Queen Bee in her social circle, she’s got everyone wrapped around her finger. She’s perfect, you think. Girls like that require a little finesse, and you’re ready to play the game.

Warnings: Non-healthy relationship, psychological games, smut(?)

Note: Welcome to a Tumblr exclusive! PM me if you would like to be added onto the tag list for updates. 

Also, these parts keep getting progressively longer...sorry 😬

PART I || PART II || PART III 

PART IV of X

Count: 4655

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶

You pull up on the driveway of someone else who looks like they have a lot of money (well, you knew they did on the fact that it was a gated community, and then the person’s house had a personal gate again that you had to tell a guard your name before they opened it).

You parked your car onto their spacious driveway along with the other cars. Goddamn, this person had a fountain...in their driveway. You grab the wine you had gotten as a gift, your bag that had a little surprise for Wanda and make your way to the door. 

Ringing the doorbell, you wait a couple seconds before someone opens the door. You’re greeted with Wanda’s blue eyes as she excitedly hugs you.

“You made it!”

You return her hug, and when you pull back, she’s already leading you through the massive house. In the kitchen, you find a group of people there who are flitting around preparing for dinner.

They all turn to you, curious and some smiling. You see Vision in the corner next to another man.

Wanda introduces you to everyone, and they’re greeting you. “That’s Tony and Pepper, they’re married. This is Steve and Bucky, that’s Clint and Bruce, my fiancé Vision there, and of course, the star of tonight, Natasha!”

You’re trying to keep up with the names, but you’re sure you’re going to have to ask for them multiple times tonight. At least you’ll remember Natasha since the party is for her. 

“Congratulations are in order I hear,” you tell Natasha, offering her the wine bottle.

“I hope you like red,” you say. 

Natasha grabs the bottle from you, eyeing it with an impressed raised brow.

“Bordeaux wine Pétrus. Impressive. Even my new boss hasn’t gifted me anything this nice,” she smiles at you and for a moment, you’re enchanted by her slender and seductive features.

“Hey!” You hear, looking over to see the man with the Goatee (Tony, you think?) yell indignantly.

“Working for me is the gift,” Tony says, and you try not to laugh as Natasha rolls her eyes. Tony turns to you, a twinkle in his eye. “I’ve finally managed to snipe Natasha from the competition, you see. I’ve got the best publicist in this state, possibly America.”

You whistle impressively, turning to Natasha who just winks at you. Wanda grabs your attention again by touching your arm. You look over and give her a smile.

“What’s...Bordeaux wine Pétrus? Is it that good?” You look over to see the unbelievably fit blond man ask (seriously his body is the shape of a Dorito). 

“The bottle is around two grand, Steve. It’s more than good,” The guy next to him says. Steve’s eyes widen at you, and Wanda does the same. You just scratch the back of your head awkwardly with an upturn of your lip. 

When dinner starts, you opt to sit across from Natasha instead of Wanda. The dinner is pretty peaceful until Natasha asks you what you do for work. Wanda is about to answer for you, but you answer first.

“I’m actually a DJ,” you say. Natasha hums, licking her lips.

“Really? I don’t think I recognize your face.” Natasha says, and everyone is squinting trying to see if they know who you are.

You chuckle, “Yeah, probably because I do wear a mask when I perform.”

“Ah, hah! Since I highly doubt you’re Marshmellow, you must be Lady Phantom.” Clint snaps his fingers, and everyone turns their attention to him but then back to you.

You nod once, putting another bite of your into your mouth. Natasha’s just smirking at you, and you’re returning the look with a slight raise of your brow. 

“What’s wrong, Wanda? You look like someone just snatched your belongings.” Tony says, and you turn to look at Wanda who does look a little displeased.

She glares at you with a bit of sulk, “I can’t believe you just told everyone so easily, while I made a fool of myself before finding out.”

You laugh as she throws a grape at you. 

“How did you find out?” Bruce asked. 

You smile, taking the grape she threw at you and ate it. “Wanda had a photoshoot in Palm Desert the same time I had a gig there. Since she needed the ride, I took her along with me, and she so kindly gushed how she was a fan of Lady Phantom, not realizing that that was me. She didn’t find out until I was playing at the gig.”

Wanda groans as everyone begins to laugh, sending you another glare. Vision looks at you with slight displeasure showing on his face.

“I don’t understand the mystery. Why the mask? Isn’t it contradictory to have the mask but seek fame?” Vision asks.

You raise your brow at him with a crooked grin. “Well, I wouldn’t say I seek fame. It’s more of a result of my work. The mask is my branding. That’s how Clint was able to recognize who I was before I could say. I’m not opposed to the public knowing my face, but while I can, I enjoy my privacy.”

“It doesn’t feel very authentic,” Vision comments and Wanda elbows him in the rib, and he looks at her confused.

You merely shrug your shoulders. “My process is my own. My work speaks for itself, and I believe that image is a part of owning success and fame. You have to be extremely talented if you want to put your work out there anonymously as your brand. If you don’t believe in branding, then you’re just one of the billions of people who are floating with nothing to differentiate yourself. If you aren’t just made of talent, then you have to work hard, which means putting yourself out there. It would be incredibly naive to believe that success will just fall into your lap.”

You say and Natasha and Tony nod approvingly at you. You glance at Vision again with a subtly smug look in your face as he frowns at you with his brows furrowed. 

The rest of the dinner goes smoothly, you and Natasha make a lot of conversation, and you purposely did that. You could see Wanda staring at the two of you, conflicted on trying to join in on the conversation but finding it hard to.

“You should show me your work sometime,” Natasha says as you both pick up the plates and head over the sink. 

“Depends, Romanoff. What do I get in return?” You ask a little flirty. The redhead curves her lip upward.

“I’m pretty negotiable,” Natasha tells you in return. You lick your bottom lip and watch as Natasha eyes the action.

You’re about to say something else when Wanda comes up and interrupts you two.

“C’mon slowpokes, everyone is in the living room. Tony says you can just leave the dishes on the side.” Wanda grabs your arm and starts pulling you away while Natasha walks behind you two. 

This time, Wanda gets you to sit next to her, and Natasha sits on your other side. Tony and Pepper had brought over the alcohol, including your wine while Steve and Bucky went over to the bar to grab some glasses. 

They open your bottle and pour everyone a glass. You limit yourself to just this one glass as you want to be able to drive home later. 

Once the drinks are served, Tony immediately announcing it’s now game time. You play a variety of board games. After about 4 games, you all opt to sit and relax a little.

“So,” Natasha starts. “Any upcoming plans anyone?”

“I’m taking Pepper to the Bahamas for our anniversary next week.” Pepper grins as she’s sitting in Tony’s lap with his arms around his waist.

“Yeah, I’m thinking of taking the kids and wife to our lake house for the rest of the summer,” Clint says.

“Bucky and I are going to Brooklyn to visit our friends there for a couple weeks. We actually are considering moving there.” Steve says, looking over to Bucky who nods.

“I have a huge project, so this is probably the last time I’ll see the outside world for a while,” Bruce says with a sigh, taking a sip from his glass.

Wanda sighs as she’s leaning against Vision. “I want to go to Wasteland, but I want to get a guest pass so I can avoid the crowd in the VIP section, but all the brands I’ve worked with couldn’t get me passes. I might just have to risk it at VIP.”

You smile, and everyone turns to you. You pull your bag towards you and dig for what you’re looking for. You pull out 3 Artiste passes and Wanda gasps.

“I’m actually performing at Wasteland. They gave me some Artiste passes.” You hand two over to Wanda so she can give one to Vision. She squeals happily and throws her arms around you. You return the hug, eyeing Vision briefly but he catches it.

“What are Artiste passes?” Natasha asks.

“They are basically above VIP passes. It is a secluded section for basically celebrities. You can only get them from producers of the festival or from artists. With the Artiste passes, you can go backstage though.” Wanda says as she admires the photos. She’s already taking pictures of them for her Instagram with her phone. 

It was purposeful. You wanted Wanda to see how you could provide her anything she wanted where Vision could not, and the man could see that.

He eyed the passes with a level of anger but didn’t say anything. 

You weren’t done there, though. Originally, you were going to give all three passes to Wanda and have her see which of her friends wanted to tag along, but you decided you were going to ask Natasha yourself.

The redhead was perfect in the sense that she was a moving piece to make Wanda look more carefully at you.

You tilt the last pass at Natasha.

“Come see me play,” you tell the redhead. She smirks and takes the pass.

“What happened to getting something in return?”

“I’m sure I’ll think of something there,” you tell her with a smile. 

You could hear Clint snickering in the background.

“Let’s get back to playing some drinking games!” Wanda suddenly exclaimed, getting up and getting other people to stand up with her. You hid your smirk as you also stood up and held out your hand to Natasha to help her. 

It felt like a frat party after with all the drinking games you haven’t played since college. 

It was getting pretty late, and you were in the middle of a beer pong game with Steve and Bucky, and Natasha as your partner. You had let the redhead know you weren’t looking to drink as you wanted to be able to drive home safely after and she kindly drank every cup you guys lost. 

It was getting to a pretty close game, and since you were both competitive by nature, you told Natasha you both needed to start trying to get your shots into the same cup so you could try to end it in the next turn.

On your next turn, you had shot one into Steve and Bucky’s middle cup, and Natasha followed your suit, easily shooting hers into the same cup. Steve and Bucky loudly groaned in disappointment as they began to drink the middle cup and all the surrounding cups that touched the middle. 

You cheered, and Natasha smirked, taking her beer from the side and took a sip from it. 

Opting to not play another round, Clint and Bruce went to play against Steve and Bucky. The two of you instead stood against the kitchen counter and chatted. 

It was mostly just banter, but it was going pretty well until Wanda showed up, looking quite unhappy.

“I’m not feeling well. I want to go home,” she looked at Natasha before turning to you. 

She looked pretty drunk, but you weren’t sure if you would say she looked sick. You made it clear you were looking for Vision but found him passed out on the couch from drinking too much.

You turn your attention back to Wanda and Natasha, and gave the redhead an apologetic smile.

“Alright, Wanda. Let’s get you home,” you tell her and she tries to walk but stumbles, causing you to reach out and grab her. She leans against you with her eyes closed.

“Sorry, Natasha. I’m going to head out and take Wanda since I haven’t drank. It was really nice to meet you and congratulations again.”

Natasha stops you from leaving for a second, grabbing a pen from the counter. She scribbles something on your hand, and when she’s done, you take a quick look to see it’s her number.

“Call me,” Natasha purrs, and you’re about to reply, but Wanda is tugging on your sleeve. You just give Natasha a smile and wrap your arm around Wanda’s waist to help her walk.

At the stairs, you place her on the step as you find her shoes to help her put it on. She’s quite compliant now, grinning a little as you slip on her flats.

“I’m like Cinderella,” she giggles.

You give a snort in response, “and what? I’m your pumpkin carriage ride?”

You’re helping her outside and placing her gently into the passenger seat and strapping her in. You really hope she doesn’t vomit as you get into the driver seat and drive off.

“No,” she whines like you’re supposed to get it. “Obviously, you put my shoes on. You’re my prince!” 

You can’t help but laugh because she sounds ridiculous. 

“Anyway,” Wanda says. “You’re getting along with Natasha really well.”

You turn over to look at Wanda, but she has her head against the window with her eyes closed so you can’t really tell exactly what she meant by that.

“Yes,” you say slowly. “She’s great.”

You hear Wanda grumble something under her breath that sounded strangely like, “I’m great,” but you can’t be sure.

When you arrive at Wanda’s house, you get out to open the passenger door and try to wake her up. She grumbles and throws her arms around your neck, and you’re stuck trying to half-drag, half-carry her to the door. You pull her keys from her pockets and help her up to her room. She mumbles that it’s the farthest room in the back.

When you settle her on the bed with a huff, you’re thinking that you need to start working out again. Not that Wanda was heavy, you’re just that out of shape.

Wanda shifts a couple times to get comfortable, and you just look at how adorable she is. Looking around, you look at the bedroom Wanda and Vision share. It seems like Wanda had mostly styled it. There was a giant picture of them at the beach together. You walk over the ledge to look at the smaller picture frames. 

There were some of Vision and Wanda, a couple of the friends you had met today, but there was one photo of Wanda together with a man you didn’t recognize. He had his arm wrapped around Wanda, and her arm was around his waist as they laughed.

“That was Pietro...my twin brother.”

You turn around to see Wanda still lying in bed against her pillows, but her eyes were now open.

You walk over and sit next to her on the bed. “I didn’t know you had a brother.”

Wanda’s eyes flutter lightly as she looks downward. “I don’t anymore...”

Your heart race is picking up a little, you gently put your hand over hers. “Hey, hey, you don’t have to explain anything to me. I’m sorry.”

Wanda just shakes her head, wiping her tear. “No, sorry. It’s fine. It’s just...still hard to believe he’s gone sometimes.”

You shift against the bed a little more, but Wanda scoots over for you so you can sit next to her.

“It was just really sudden,” she starts, looking at the ceiling. “That morning it was normal, I had even called him to chat. But then in the middle of the night, the police show up at my door saying he was just at the wrong place, wrong time. He was shot many times because he witnessed a bank robbery.” It was the alcohol that made Wanda’s emotions so frayed as she choked on a sob. You wrapped your arm around her shoulder and pulled her into your arms.

“Shh, I’m so sorry, Wanda.” You say. You’re mostly sorry for bringing up such unpleasant memories, but Wanda just cries in your arms, her shoulders heaving as you rub her arm and back. 

Eventually, the crying stops, but she doesn’t leave your embrace.

“Sorry,” she says hoarsely. “I don’t know what came over me.”

You merely just rub her arm in response and softly ask, “When did he pass?”

“It’ll be 3 years in a week,” she tells you. It’s just before Wasteland, so you’re surprised that she would want to go, but everyone has their way of grieving.

It’s silent for a moment until Wanda speaks up again. “Have you ever lost anyone?”

You look up at the ceiling for a bit before turning to her.

“Not like you have,” you say softly. “But my aunt passed away when I was 16. I was mostly raised by her since my parents were constantly working. My aunt  was pretty much everyone I needed back then.”

“What happened?” Wanda asks, softly, leaning against your shoulder.

“Cancer. It came back pretty aggressively,” you say, reminiscing the past briefly.

“Sorry,” Wanda says, a little muffled.

You chuckle softly and shake your head. “It’s alright, my aunt was pretty intense about me accepting her death. Snarky little thing she was,” you said, and Wanda couldn’t help but chuckle.

“I remember when she first caught me smoking. Oh boy, she was so damn mad, I thought my life would end there. But then she went eerily calm, and that’s when you know you’re in deep shit with her. The goddamn woman made me smoke an entire pack at once. I still gag when I smell cigarettes.” You say, shivering at the memory.

Wanda bursts out into laughter, and you smile at your success in getting her to do so. 

Wanda starts to open up, sharing stories about Pietro, laughing as she recalled some of them.

“He used to take me to Manhattan beach and make paprikash. He would always make it a picnic, and we would sit out there for hours, just remembering what it was like back in Sokovia.”

“How long were you in Sokovia?” You asked.

“We immigrated when we became 18 since our parents were gone.”

You nodded and looked over at her again. Her eyes were threatening to close, but she was fighting to hang on.

You turn your head away and put the back of your hand to your mouth, trying to not laugh at how cute she was.

“Alright, you. That’s enough for one night. You need to sleep.” You tell her, getting ready to get up and leave, but Wanda holds onto you.

“Stay,” she says, and you look confused. “Just until I fall asleep. Please?”

You take a deep breath in but nod and move back to your spot. Wanda settles in under the blanket this time, and it’s not long at all before she falls asleep.

You’re looking at the photo of Pietro and Wanda through the dark the best you can, tapping your leg idly.

Another moving piece.

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶

You don’t have too much time to spend time or chat with Wanda the next week because you’re preparing your set and making sure everything is perfect for Wasteland. You do manage to call Natasha as she asked. It’s mostly spent with her asking about Wasteland and how to prepare for the event. It felt like she was expecting you to ask her on a date, but you were saving that.

That week, you had also spent time looking for a restaurant that served authentic paprikash. You managed to find one, but it was a little out of your way. You still went, of course. It was owned by an old woman who ran it with her son.

You ordered the dish, and it tasted amazing. While you had nothing to really compare it to, it felt right. You probably sat there for hours trying to figure out what was going on in the dish with an insane amount of Googling.

After sitting for two hours, the old woman came up to you and sat down.

“What is it that you want?” She asked with a heavy accent, looking at you suspiciously. “Are you trying to steal recipe?”

“What? No!” You say but then pause. “Well, I guess kind of, but not to sell. My friend is from Sokovia, and she gets homesick sometimes...I just want to learn how to make this for her and hopefully make her happier.”

The old woman just stares at you before getting up and walking off. You think she’s just going to leave you alone again until she turns back.

“Well? Are you coming?” She says with a raise of her wrinkly brow.

You get up automatically and follow the old woman into the back. She pulls out the ingredients and puts it in front of you.

“You will start with seasoning chicken...”

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶

It’s early in the morning of Pietro’s death anniversary. You’re just planning to bring some paprikash to Wanda since you’re pretty sure Vision is spending the day with her.

You have other things to do during the day, but around late evening, you make the dish. You’ve damn near perfected it at this point with the help of the old lady.

You get the contents into a cordless slow cooker and carefully bring it into your car. When you drive over to Wanda’s, you see the lights on. You bring the pot over and use your elbow to ring the doorbell.

To your surprise, Vision answers the door.

“Oh,” he says, looking confused. “Hello.”

“Hey...” you say. “Wanda home?”

Vision purses his lips and rubs the back of his neck.

“Um...today is kind of...” He starts, but you cut him off.

“I know what today is,” you tell him, trying to not roll your eyes.

“Oh,” Vision says, looking surprised. “Okay. Well, Wanda has told me she is someone who prefers to spend this day alone. She pretty much spends it at the beach the entire day.”

You’re floored at his response.

He’s seriously never tried to do anything for her on this day?

You almost want to laugh in his face.

“Right...” You say. “Cool, well, bye.”

Without saying anything else, you turn and walk off back to your car.

You had an idea. You just needed to get a couple things from the store first.

When you got to the beach, the sun was setting. There were still many people walking around, but most were beginning to leave. Carrying everything you could in your bags and hands, you set up your picnic. 

With a sigh of relief, you sit down and pull out your phone. Holding the phone against your chin, you think for a moment.

With what Vision said, she was most likely already here. You look over to the pier and see many couples walking along it.  

Then you see her. 

She’s someone you would never miss. She was sitting at the edge, feet dangling over the water with her back turned to you.

You grinned and dial her number. From a distance, you could see her pull out her phone from her pocket, staring at it. For a second, you don’t think she’s going to pick up, but at the last second, she does.

She calls your name out a little confusedly.

“You know,” you start. “Pretty girls shouldn’t sit alone on a pier. There’s a high probability of attracting trouble.”

There’s silence on the line for a moment.

“And how would you know that?” She asks, and you see her turn her head left and right as if to search for you.

“Mostly because well, you’re a pretty girl, and I’m like 95% sure the dude on your right behind you is planning your kidnapping.”

“You think I’m pretty?”

You laugh, “Seriously? Of all things I say, that’s what you catch on?”

Wanda looks behind her and does see the guy creepily gazing at her, but she’s searching around again.

“Where are you?” She asks, obviously knowing you’re close by. 

���Behind you on your left...keep turning....stop.” You guide her, and she makes direct eye contact with you even though you’re a bit away. You think that’s her jaw-dropping, but it’s a little too far for you to discern for sure.

“Oh my god, what are you doing?” Wanda says, standing up.

“Well, come over and find out,” You say and hang up the phone.

It takes a couple minutes for Wanda to reach where you are, but when she does, she’s in awe at everything.

“What is this?” She asks, tears welling up in her eyes.

You get up and stand in front her, putting on a nervous grin. “I know today...well...sucks. And I know it’s not the same as him being here, but you deserve more than just sitting on a pier by yourself.”

Pulling her to sit down on the pillow, she looks at everything.

“How did you know?” She asks.

“Well...I...I guess I stopped by earlier and Vision told me...I stopped by to give you...well, this.” You awkwardly stumble over your words but turn to the slow cooker and open the lid. The food is still piping hot as you left the cooker on to prevent the food from getting cold. The aroma immediately hits the air, and Wanda groans happily.

“Is that paprikash?” She asks, eyes wide with a small smile.

“I sure hope so...” you mumble. It wasn’t that you doubted the old lady (well you kind of did), but Wanda was trying it, and you were nervous as fuck. This was a dish she ate with her deceased brother. 

Wanda grabs a bowl and the ladle you brought along and scoops herself some. You’re trying to not obsessively watch her as she tries her first bite, but you’re definitely waiting with bated breath. 

She closes her eyes and hums satisfyingly, and you release the breath you were holding.

“Wow, this tastes just like home...how did you know how to make it?” Wanda asks, scooping more into her mouth.

You relax a little, scooping some yourself to eat.

“There’s actually a restaurant owned by this old Hungarian woman about 40 minutes away from where we live. I went to eat there last week and pretty much loitered until she showed me how to make it...provided I’m not opening my own restaurant.” You say as if it wasn’t a big deal, happily eating your meal. 

You notice Wanda just staring at you, lips turned slightly upward as she softly but intently gazes at you. She then turns her attention down to your fingers that have a couple band-aids on it. You follow her eyes and sheepishly laugh.

“Yeah...I wouldn’t say cooking is my strongest skill and she takes paprikash very seriously.” You flashback to the number of times you accidentally nicked your finger or burnt it on the stove. 

Wanda is looking even more endearingly at you, and you internally feel the satisfaction. 

“Thank you,” she says sincerely, putting down her finished bowl. “This was really sweet of you.”

You just smile in return and shrug your shoulders. “Don’t spend this day completely alone, okay? I would hate to hunt you down again.”

Wanda smile as you, glint in her eyes as she relaxes. 

“Perhaps that wouldn’t be bad.”

PART V

[dreamingstoriesinoursleep]

12 Days of Starker Christmas - Day 8: Tony (or) Peter Dresses as Santa

The local University Choir was participating in the carols and Tony usually wouldn’t give a damn, however, this year, their special visitor is none other than Tony’s boyfriend. This is a two-part AU which will finish/prequel on Day 11. ��

--

Peter was in the choir at University, as well as the drama club and the environment team…go figure. So, when the choir found out that they would be singing in the local carols in a week’s time Peter was over the moon! He loved carols, Christmas and children, so when he found out that this was a daytime carol for the children, he called Tony out of pure excitement.

“Tony!” Peter practically screamed as soon as he heard the older male pick up, making said male hold the phone a foot away from his ear.

“Hello to you too darling.” Tony said slowly, having just woken up.

“You will never guess what we just found out in choir?!” Peter was practically jumping up and down on the spot, but before Tony could even think to answer, Peter screamed it through the phone. “We are going to be performing at the carols, and the day time carols too, so there is going to be the kids there and there will be cotton candy and popcorn and Santa hats and even a visit from Santa so you just know the kids are going to love it. Please tell me you’ll come?” Tony could hear the pout through the phone and he knew what this meant to the young male.

“Of course, sweetheart. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Trying to sound as sincere as possible whilst wiping a hand over his face and rolling his eyes so hard that it actually caused a dull ache to form in his temples. They signed off the phone as usual, saying that they loved one another and that Peter will be home soon.

When Peter slipped his phone back into his pocket and walked into the rehearsal space, he noticed how quiet it was and instantly flushed at being the last one to enter back into the circle as they all watched Peter move through the room. It wasn’t until Peter was seated and staring at the leader of the choir, Damon, that he saw the red suit folded by the man’s feet. Santa, someone was to dress as Santa.

The choir already knew who would get to don the red suit and white beard, Peter however, thought that it was up to a vote as they continued to stare at him. “So, who gets the suit?” Peter asks tentatively.

“Well, considering you are the only one amongst us that is in the Drama Club,” A fact in which that when Peter found out, it was very hard to believe that no one in choir was also in drama. “And we all know that you love Christmas, and if we didn’t, we do now,” Peter’s cheeks flush a deep red at the obvious mention to his phone call not two minutes ago. “We thought you would like to be ‘Old Saint Nick’?”

Peter couldn’t keep his joy contained and he squeaked in delight before skipping, yes skipping, over to Damon and hugging him before taking the famous red suit. For the rest of the get together they practised the two songs that they were going to perform and then they all went their separate ways, except Damon, who stayed back and helped Peter to put the chairs and music stands away.

“Look, I know that Tony doesn’t like me, but I do hope to see him there.”

“Well, we did date for a while there Damon.” Peter said, turning around and facing the dark-haired man standing on the other side of the table.

“I wouldn’t say that three years is a ‘while’.” Damon approached Peter and held onto his wrists, looking him in the eye. “I know that you are with Tony, and I also know that I never have a chance with you after what I did, but I still love you, and I will always look out for you.”

“Well, isn’t that precious.” A voice calls from the doorway, dripping with sarcasm that makes both boys gasp. Immediately, Damon drops Peter’s wrists and turns to face the older man.

“Tony.”

“Damon.”

“Tony!” Peter squeals before launching himself into the older man’s arms. “What are you doing here?”

“I thought that I should take you out to lunch.” Tony then looks over Peter’s shoulder and glares at Damon. “I am glad I came.”

“Tony, you know he wouldn’t do anything.” Peter says, quiet enough that only Tony can hear. “Besides, Damon gave me the opportunity to be Santa at the carols!” Peter says, now loud enough for both males to hear. Isn’t that amazing?!” Peter beams, which makes Tony involuntarily smile down at his precious boy.

“It is, sweetheart. Come on, we have reservations.” Tony turns the boy, under his arm, towards the door and scoops up his costume along the way, not bothering to turn around to farewell the other man, simply throwing his hand up. “Bye Damon.”

“See ya Damon! Thanks for this!” Peter says, looking over Tony’s arm that is slung around his neck.

“Bye.” Damon sighs.

~ ~ ~

The day finally comes and Peter is nearly vibrating out of his skin with a mixture of excitement and nerves. Tony has already tried to help him out by using some of that energy this morning, however, Peter’s energy levels were back up to MAX.

“Next we have The NYU Choir and a very special guest to sing ‘Santa Claus Is Coming to Town’ and “Jolly Old Saint Nicholas’. Enjoy!” That was their cue, however, Peter was to stay backstage for the first song and stand by a mic to help with vocals. The first song went off without a hitch and you could feel the excitement in the room from all the kids.

The first few bars of the second song started and Peter took a deep breath before running out onto the stage, which caused an eruption of screams and “Hi Santa!” being yelled at him. A loud whistle of appreciation sounded over the crowd and Peter searched the audience to find Tony on his feet, wide smile and applauding him, which made Peter feel warm and fuzzy.

Peter had one job and that was to run back and forth on stage and throw the candy from his Santa sack into the crowd, he loved it and seeing the joy that he brought to the children made tears come to his eyes.

The song finished and Peter took the mic, and in his best “Santa voice” told all the children how proud he was that they were all on the good list, but must behave to remain there. He also told the children that he couldn’t wait to deliver all of their presents to them, but for now he had to go back to the North Pole where Mrs. Claus was waiting for him with milk and cookies “My favourite!” which made Tony laugh far too much.

“Goodbye Boys and Girls! HO HO HO!” At this Peter was bombarded with cheers and shouts of multiple variations of “Bye Santa!”

Tony had managed to sneak through the hoards of screaming children to get to back of stage and wait for Peter. When Peter rounded the corner with the suit still on but the hat and beard gone showing just how hot and sweaty he was, Tony embraced him and told him what a great job he did.

“The kids loved you! How are you feeling?”

“Amazing, but Holy Gosh this suit is hot!” Peter laughs, tugging at the neck of the jacket and managing to wrestle himself out of it. Due to Peter’s small frame, they had to stuff it with extra pillows and blankets this year, creating an insulated, stage performer’s nightmare.

“Well, how about we get you home and into a nice cool bath?” At Tony’s words, Peter melted against Tony’s chest and nodded. “Well you get changed and meet me back here.”

Across the room, Tony saw Damon talking to his fellow choir mates.

“Can I talk to you for a few minutes?” Damon excused himself from his friends and walked with Tony to a corner. “Look, I do not for one second forgive you for what you did to Peter, and I never will, but I do appreciate what you did for him today and I know, that you know, that this means a lot to him.” Tony claps Damon on the back. “Small steps.” Tony sees Peter exit the changerooms and walks over to him.

“Ready to go baby?” Peter looks around the room, his eyes landing on Damon and nodding once in a farewell. Damon returns the gesture before Peter turns back to Tony and hums in agreement.

“Yes please.”

[dabblinginmarvel]

Of a Different Family - Part 2

Plot: James Buchannan Barnes is a very successful mob boss who falls in love with the mysterious singer who leaves her shoe behind in the alley behind his club.

A/N: I decided to go with a Fem!Reader take on this. It felt right for the thirties time-period.

Warnings: The mob, fear, guns

Word Count Total: 1878

Title: Of a Different Family – Part 2

Part 2

There is a light, airy feeling around the mansion for the next day. Well, if one could call it that. Your boss’s grin stays the entire day and those that lived in the mansion with him were enjoying drink after drink. After the Barnes family was gone, the territory would be Rumlow’s to claim.

Your anxiety starts to grow. If things didn’t happen the way Mister Rumlow wanted, you weren’t sure what would happen.

The men attend another party after calling in the raid on the Barnes family and you stay in the house, knowing you had an alibi by staying in the house, cleaning.

Room after room was tidied before you move on to scrubbing more floors and making food.

By the time the food is ready, Mister Rumlow and his boys return late, all of them chuckling.

“We’ll see it in the morning news, boys! Get some rest; we have a lot of ground to cover tomorrow.”

Mister Rumlow ducks into the kitchen and sees the food you are preparing. “On second thought, if you’re still hungry, Y/N was kind enough to make celebratory food,” he calls out the door.

A few men stumble through the door and pick up baked chicken and slices of cake.

“Thank you, darling.” Mister Rumlow smiles, choosing a slice for himself before leaving the room. You sigh, leaning back against the counter that you just cleaned. Alibi solved.

Dread fills your stomach as you wake the next morning. It was early - earlier than you normally woke up. But that wasn’t the reason you woke up, no. The yelling woke you. It reverberates through the entire house and you hop out of bed quickly.

You dress in your maid uniform and get right to work on breakfast.

Mister Rumlow storms in a couple of minutes later, the morning paper in hand. He storms right up to you and grabs you by the chin, flashing the paper with no Barnes arrest on the front. “How could he have known?!”

“K-known?”

“How did he know that there would be a raid?!”

Tears brim your eyes and you struggle to speak through his rough grip. “I-I don’t know, Mister Rumlow.”

He releases you, your body hitting the floor and your head just narrowly missing it. “You were here all day yesterday?”

“All day, Mister Rumlow. I swear.”

His brow softens. “Alright, I believe ya. You have never given me reason to doubt you before.”

“And I never will, sir.”

“Good girl.” He leaves, you still on the floor and bacon still sizzling in the pan. You pick yourself off the cold floor and wipe away any tears on your face. It would be bad to show any weakness in front of Mister Rumlow. You couldn’t afford to lose your strength now. If you did, he would be suspicious.

So instead, you sing to yourself. The little tune isn’t loud, but it keeps you calm. It was an old song your mother used to sing to you and you had kept alive after she passed. It was a sad little melody.

You’re so caught up in singing that you don’t notice that Mister Rumlow pops his head back into the kitchen.

“I didn’t know you could sing, doll.”

Your mouth shuts and you spin around, startled. “I - uh, well - I -”

He holds his hand up. “No need. We’ll just put you in the show. You’ll be our star.”

Dread fills you and you couldn’t tell if it was because you would be singing at Mister Rumlow’s speakeasy or if there was a possibility that he suspected still that you were involved in more than just Rumlow business.

You accept just so you don’t give him any reason further to suspect.

“Good, you’ll be starting tonight. Make sure your work is done by four, the boys can learn to cook supper for themselves every once in awhile.”

You smile slightly and he leaves the room.

Your chores go by quickly and the feelings of excitement fade into anxiety. When Sharon entered to help you get ready and get to the show, you were about to burst.

“Sharon, I don’t think I can do this.”

“Yes, you can. I believe in you.”

“But what if someone connects everything?”

“It’s under control.”

“What do you mean?”

She just wiggles her eyebrows with a knowing smile, pushing to your room. When you emerge, you’re dressed up even nicer than your debut performance. You are ushered out to a waiting vehicle and driven out to Mister Rumlow’s business.

It was time.

Everything passes by you quickly and you find yourself standing before the stage. The performance doesn’t feel as magical as your first, but you put your heart into it because if you didn’t? You could be in big trouble.

Night after night, you sing. A week goes by and you begin to fall into the routine. You also hear nothing of the Barnes family and you begin to let go of the night you spent doing something dangerous.

Until it catches up to you.

You are singing your usual set when someone stands up at the bar. He looks familiar, blonde and tall. You notice him leaving, and you start in on your new final song.

“Somewhere over the rainbow….” you sing. You figure you will suffer the consequences later, but the worry melts away as Steve stops and turns back to look at you. You catch his eye for split second, but he gets the hint. He nods ever so slightly and leaves.

Mister Rumlow comes up after the show and says that he should punish you for changing the setlist, but the crowd had been so loud that he decided he liked it on the list.

Steve returns. And returns. And returns again. You don’t know what he wants, but you know it must be important, or he wouldn’t be coming to your show.

Finally, one night, he makes it backstage to your dressing room, posing as a big fan. How he got past the guards, you didn’t want to know.

You meet him at your door and he tells you quickly that Mister Barnes wants to meet you again and is willing to sneak you out to do it.

“I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“Alright, Dorothy. I will tell him.”

You grab his upper arm. “I’m sorry, I cannot meet anyone.”

He nods and looks around. “Okay.” No one is around, but he darts off quickly.

No one comes to ask you about your visitor, but you know by the next show that Mister Rumlow is suspicious. There is extra security and you are hardly allowed to be alone.

Steve isn’t there for that next performance and immediately it is apparent that something has happened.

The house was quite full by the time you are on the stage. With everyone watching, there is no way you can leave.

Mister Rumlow knows that, too. It’s obvious.

Which means you’re in danger.

But you have nowhere to go.

After the show, the crowd calls for an encore, which you are required to give if asked, and so you are off stage later than usual.

Sharon is waiting and grabs your hand.

“Oh, boys, I’ve got this. No need to follow her to her dressing room.”

You two leave the men behind because you both are the best gals to Rumlow and no one could touch them without their permission. Sharon was the one with the most freedom and the most trust on her.

But they still keep their eyes on her tonight.

They may be behind, but they are still five feet away.

Sharon shuts your dressing room door, creating privacy for the two of you.

“Listen quickly. Steve will show up as you’re leaving for the car. You have to get in with him and go.”

“What? What about you?”

“I will be peachy. You need to go, though. We’re out of time.” She pulls you by the arm to the door, where the men are waiting.

The four of you travel to the waiting car owned by the Rumlow family and as soon as you are within mere paces from it, Sharon struck out, shoving you to the side. She elbows one in the face, breaking his nose, and slams her heel into the other guy’s foot. As she does this, you fall over from the shove, right into someone’s arms.

“Sharon, let’s go!” The man hoists you over his shoulder and Sharon, once certain the men are out, dashes after him.

“Sharon, what the hell?!” you yell and she shushes you. You shut up.

You get shoved into another car and the driver peels off, all three of you inside.

“Explain,” you demand.

“Hey, Esther,” says the driver with a grin. Sam. “Or, should I say Y/N?”

Steve glances behind the car and grabs a Tommy gun, sticking his upper torso out the window and aiming carefully. He only shoots once he’s sure he can make it.

Things are rushing around you and you could hardly keep up.

“Are we going to see Mister Barnes?”

Sharon nods. “Yes.”

That was all as you speed through the night.

Upon arrival at a place you couldn’t recognize, a large house on a grassy hill behind an iron fence, everyone hops out and there are two woman waiting for the car. One has short red hair and the other has brown hair. You hardly saw long hair on women anymore, so you couldn’t help but stare at it.

The entire entourage ushers you up to the house, you still confused. You’re brought in the large door, through two hallways and one staircase, and into a study where Mister Barnes sits behind a dark desk. He is still as handsome as you remember, blue eyes and dark brown hair, and not bothering to hide his metal hand.

“Ah, Y/N.” Mister Barnes stands and makes his way around the desk. “It’s a pleasure to meet you again.” He reaches for your hand with his metal one and presses a kiss to it. “I owe you a debt for warning me. And your singing voice is absolutely wonderful.”

“Are you certain it’s me?”

“I believe I have a shoe here that says it could be you.”

“It could be any number of girls.”

“I believe that. But I can see it in your eyes and Steve and Sam speak for you. As does Sharon. So I am certain.”

“Then thank you, Mister Barnes.”

“Please, call me Bucky, doll. A gorgeous dame like you shouldn’t worry about using titles.”

You blush and he grins.

“Please, feel free to stay here as a guest. You are not required to do anything.”

Your eyes widen. “Really?”

“Yes. I owe you for what you have done and I find myself taking quite a liking to you. If you feel the need to leave, please let Steve know.”

“Honestly, I have nowhere to go.”

“Then you are welcome to stay for as long as you like.”

“Thank you.”

In time, you find yourself still attracted to him, growing close with him. The only difficult decision you have to make now is whether you want a wedding or a small ceremony.

- - -

Masterlist

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[phan-of-the-pen]

I Dare You To Stay: Chapter 26

Last chapter! Wow! Thank you all for sticking through with this fic through all of the ups, downs, and missed uploads lmao. In all seriousness, this fic is special to me because it explores themes of asexuality. Obviously this fic doesn’t even scratch the surface, but it was cathartic, and I think that it could help to expand someone else’s view of the world. In short, I hope this fic was enjoyed by others, not just me. Thanks for reading guys <3

Tags for chapter: so much fluff I can’t breathe, dan baby you’re making me sob :( (in a good way)

Words for chapter: ~2.6 k

Fic Summary: Dan Howell is a barista working a shitty job, frequenting his shitty apartment, and living a shitty existence, hiding his asexuality and going for a PHD in self-depreciation and depression. Phil Lester is a part-time intern, part-time employee at a local weather station, trying to get experience in his field and make a name for himself, while juggling a second job at the nearby Tesco’s to give him some financial breathing room. Their paths were never supposed to meet, but what happens when they do anyways, one rainy day in Manchester?

(ao3!)

<-- Previous Chapter Masterpost

~~~~~~~~~~

"Dan, come on."

"No, don't 'Dan come on' me. I didn't come up to London to go to that."

Phil crossed his arms and frowned. He didn't say anything, only fixed Dan with a knowing and disappointed look. Dan folded his arms as well, but he squirmed under Phil's gaze. Sighing, Dan let his arms drop and a hand up to rub at his face.

"Fine. I've thought about it. A lot actually."

"Good. We'll go."

"No, we're not."

"Dan, why wouldn't we?"

"Because Jaime and I haven't talked to each other in literal weeks? Because she probably doesn't want me there? Because the last conversation we had she told me that she 'couldn't do this anymore' and hung up on me? Phil I can keep going—there are a lot more reasons that I can give you if you still don't believe me."

Phil sighed and nodded in acknowledgment.

"Look, I'm not saying that you don't have a reason to not go because you do. You have a lot of reasons. But the thing is, I know you. And I know that you're still hurting over this whole thing, but I also know that you miss your best friend, and that you still love her with your whole heart. I know that whether or not you two make up and start talking again, you'll regret not going to the debut for the rest of your life."

Phil threaded his fingers through Dan's and squeezed.

"Listen, if you really don't want to go, we won't, but I want you to think about it alright? Don't make a decision based on guilt or bitterness." Phil smiled. "And don't worry about trying to find something to wear; you can borrow one of my nice shirts."

Dan couldn't help his small smile.

"You just want to see me in your clothes."

Phil's eyes twinkled, and he fingered the hem of his own jumper that was on Dan's body.

"Maybe," he said before dropping a kiss onto Dan's lips. "Just think about it, alright? That's all I ask."

~~~~~

Phil paid for the cab—Dan was too busy staring slack-jawed at his surroundings.

The theater was huge, and the architecture was rich and luxurious, as well as the people who were mingling in front of the sprawling staircase. The whole building was lit up with sparkling lights, and a gigantic poster was hung about two stories up, advertising the production. On it was Jaime in her costume, right in the middle, smiling mischievously.

"Wow, she really wasn't kidding when she said that the company was rich." Phil said to Dan's left. "Something tells me that she won't have to go back to making coffee after this."

The interior was even more impressive. Marble floors, rich carpets, beautiful plants, and huge, vaulting ceilings. The room was lit up by a series of chandeliers hanging high above their heads that casted the vast room in a warm, yellow light. On the far wall was a series of posters in frames. A large sign told Dan that they were the original productions that the company that owned this theater produced, and each poster was signed by all of the actors, actresses, directors, and crew. With a surge of pride, Dan's eyes fell on the poster of Jaime's play.

There were a few lines to purchase tickets for those who had not pre-ordered, and Dan and Phil only had to wait a few minutes before it was their turn. The prices made Dan's stomach twist, but Phil was already in his wallet, pulling out bills.

"Two tickets please."

"Can I have your names and a phone number please? It is for identification purposes in case the tickets are lost or stolen." The employee asked, taking the money and running up a sale.

"I'm Phil Lester, and this is Dan Howell. My number is-"

"Wait a minute," the man interrupted, something akin to recognition in his eyes. He put the money down immediately and moved some papers around on his desk as if he was looking for something. He frowned.

"Stay here, please."

They watched as he briskly walked to one of the people greeting those who had already purchased their tickets. This employee was wearing a full suit, and if Dan had to guess, this woman was some kind of floor manager. Dan and Phil watched as the two of them had a short conversation before the woman pulled out her phone and tapped a few times. She showed the screen to the man, pointing to something. They both exchanged a few other words and then turned around and made their way through the crowd back to where Dan and Phil were standing. She approached with a smile, but it didn't do much to easy Dan's anxiety over what the hell had just happened.

Just my fucking luck—Jaime probably said something to the crew to keep us from coming.

"Sorry for the wait," she said. At her side, the man cancelled the sale and handed Phil back his money. "Can you please follow me?"

Wary, Dan exchanged a look with Phil, who shrugged and wrapped his hand in Dan's.

"Why not?"

Anxious, but trusting, Dan let Phil lead him in the direction that the woman had started walking. They caught up to her and followed as she led them to the other side of the room. She led them around a well hidden corner that Dan had looked right at but hadn't noticed, and down a hallway. At the end was a burly man. Dan assumed that he was a guard to make sure that no straying guests wandered through the Employee's Only door behind him. However he didn't block their path, but rather stepped aside as soon as he saw the manager. She led them through that door and another before they came to a final door titled Stage Access. Horribly confused, they walked through.

The other side was like another world. It was dimly lit but loud with chatter, and people were rushing around in half of their costumes, props were everywhere, and the stage crew was knee-deep in equipment checks. None of them batted Dan or Phil an eye—they just kept about their business.

Eventually the woman led them down another hallway, but this one had doors up and down both sides. She stopped at one all of the way down the end and knocked sharply twice before turning around to Dan and Phil.

"A member of the crew will make sure that all of the guests are out from behind backstage around fifteen minutes before the production starts, so make sure you are out by then. If you need help finding your way, ask one of the crew to point you in the right direction and they'll help you. Thank you for coming to see our production, I hope you have a wonderful night."

She gave them one last professional smile before turning around and disappearing in the rush of people that were working hard to make sure that everything was ready. The door behind them opened and Dan heard a gasp.

"Dan?"

And holy fuck, that was Jaime-

Dan spun around and there was Jaime, standing in the doorway in half of her costume, he makeup done and her hair up. Their eyes met, and for a handful of heartbeats it seemed that everything had stilled. All Dan could do was stare at her, his breaths short and ragged. Should he hug her? God, he really wanted do, but did she? Would she call for security or something? Had Dan and Phil's names been on that list before he and Jaime's falling out, and had she just forgotten to remove them? God could he fucking hug her, he's missed her so much-

Jaime fisted the front of Dan's shirt and pulled him into her room before latching onto him tightly. She had her arms around Dan's neck and her fingers were clutching tight around Dan's frame as if she was worried that he would try and leave if she let go of him. She buried her face in his chest and the millisecond of shock wore off immediately. Dan brought his arms around her in a hurry and held her tightly. They were both holding one another too hard, but it didn't matter, it didn't matter.

Jaime was blubbering something in Italian, but they were muffled from her speaking to Dan's chest, so he couldn't really make them out. Even if she had been speaking clearly he wasn't sure that he would be able to translate them because Dan was crying himself and he was sure that he wouldn't have been able to concentrate enough to make sense of the other language.

But it didn't matter.

It didn't matter.

"I thought you hated me," Dan whispered, his voice croaky. Jaime shook her hair wildly and pulled away. Her eyes were red and tears were freely falling down her cheeks, but her makeup must have been meant to last the apocalypse because it was just barely smudged.

"I-I could never. Mio Dio, Dan I thought you hated me. I-I kept taking forever to reply and I wasn't paying attention to you, and I could feel the strain on our relationship, and I was so scared that this distance was going to tear us apart, and I couldn't deal with it. And then there was everything with the play and I was so stressed and everything was going wrong, and then I-I hung up on you! I thought that that was the last straw and you were d-done with my shit, so I didn't try and text you again because I wanted to give you space and let you have the choice as to whether or not you want to talk to me again, and I know that none of that is an excuse, but Dio, perché tutto questo è incasinato?" she said, rambling.

Dan laughed the kind of laugh what was sort of hysterical and the kind that you did when everything felt too surreal.

"You're right, how did everything get so messed up? The funny thing—well, really the fucked up thing—is that I wasn't texting you for the same reason. I thought that you would come to me if you wanted me. God, Jaime, we're fucking idiots."

Jaime laughed wetly and buried herself back into Dan's chest. "We really are," she said, muffled. "I'm so sorry, Dan, I'm so sorry. More sorry than you could know." She continued. Dan shook his head, and really, he needed to stop crying, but his tear ducts were uncooperative in that aspect.

"No, no I get it. I'm just as sorry."

"If this happens again we've got to sit down or something because I can't do this a second time. God, Dan, I missed you so much."

Dan nodded, agreeing completely.

"Miscommunication really is a bitch," Dan laughed. His eyes settled on Phil. He was standing off to the side, but he looked happy and proud at their reunion. Jaime seemed to notice him at the same time.

"Get in here, Lester," she said, reaching out to motion him over, "I've missed your stupid face too."

Phil smile was soft, and he easily wrapped his arms around the both of them.

"See Dan," Phil said, and teasing look in his eyes, "I told you we should have come."

~~~~~

Dan and Phil hadn't left by the time that the crew member made their rounds to make sure that all of the guests were out from behind backstage, so Dan found himself getting asked to please leave before he had had his fill on Jaime's attention.

They had a lot of time to catch up on.

After the tears had subsided, they had spent time in Jaime's changing room giving each other the fast version of everything that had happened to one another, and Dan had called his boss to let him know that he wouldn't be coming back for a few more days because suddenly this little vacation was the most important thing in Dan's life because he had Jaime back.

Dan and Jaime had also made plans to sit down and actually talk about everything that had happened between them, and how they had ended up in the situation that they had. It was important to the both of them that something like this never happened again and that they got to hear each other's perspectives and feelings out.

When Dan finally tore himself away from their goodbye hug, he once again had to dry his eyes. These tears were once of happiness though.

He lets Phil guide him through the throngs of people scurrying this way and that backstage. The whole encounter left Dan feeling raw and emotionally squeezed, but he also felt too happy and hopeful for the future than he could try and articulate.

If you had asked him a few hours ago if he thought that he and Jaime would make up, he would have been hard-pressed to say yes. And they had a long way to go to repair the damage between them, but Dan could feel in his heart that they would make it through this. They would.

Maybe the impossible wasn't as improbable as it seemed.

Dan's hand that wasn't laced through Phil's was buried in his pocket, and the back of one of his knuckles brushed against something hard and smooth that he had forgotten was even there in the recent excitement. Dan's ace ring.

A few thoughts rushed through his consciousness, but he brushed most of them to the side. Not listening to his gut and letting his anxieties get ahold of him had helped Dan get into the situation that he had with Jaime.

It was time that he stopped letting the voices in his head control his life.

It was time that he stopped staying still.

It was time for him to start moving forward.

Dan gently used their linked hands to pull Phil to a stop. They were right in front of the door that would lead them out from backstage, and Phil had his hand on the doorknob. He looked at Dan curiously, but Dan didn't really pay him any mind.

In his pocket, Dan's fingers fidgeted with the ring. A few months ago, he was still dealing with internalized aphobia. A few weeks ago, he was trying to muster the courage to wear it around Phil, one of the only people who had accepted him fully.

David had told Dan to follow what he thought was right. Mary had told Dan to not be afraid of change and to remember that he had the strength to move forward with his life.

There were so many things in Dan's future that he was anxious about. He was worried about not being able to land a job in London. He was worried about—as unrealistically as it was—something happening between him and Phil. He was worried about his relationship with Jaime, about finding a therapist in London that he liked, about moving, and hell, about so much more.

But he had Phil. And Jaime, and David was only a text away. Dan could always take a train to visit Mary. He had all of these people that cared about him, and that was enough for him. Dan was done with being scared of what could happen.

Weeks ago, Dan had worn his ace ring on his finger in public on his way to his Gina's office, but he had kept his hand in his pocket. This time, as soon as the ring was settled against his skin, Dan pulled his hand from his pocket and out into the world.

He was done hiding.

Phil smiled widely and pressed a kiss to Dan's lips. He didn't say anything, but he didn't need to. Phil pulled the backstage door open, and Dan stepped through, his ace ring glinting like a diamond in the light.