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#ignore the random bookmark on the floor okay
mirthofbooks · 2 years
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Vigilance ™️
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Hooked
Summary: Harry and Y/n meet again. This time spending more time together and getting to know each other. 
warnings/ disclaimers: Swearing, mentions of death, mentions of childbirth. 
Harry was out searching for a book. He had left Loralie with his mother for the day since he had some errands to run and it would be a busy day. He had finished all of his books and he was on the search for another, maybe even some extra ones for his classroom. He had stopped by his favorite coffee shop and ordered his favorite black coffee to start his day of errands, then he went to the market to get everything for dinner tonight- he thought he might as well get it out of the way since he hates grocery shopping.
Now he’s on the way to a bookstore, he didn’t want to order it on Amazon or just go to a big chain store so he did a quick google search and found a small book store a block down the road from the coffee shop he had gone to. He wanted to find the book burning in water, drowning in flame- his sister had recommended it to him and now he was itching to read it.
He made his way to the bookstore, it looked like a homey place just from the outside of the store. It was a rust colored brick with two sconces on either side of the top of the book shop, a rather tall building- possibly a flat at the top. Harry looks at the cacti peeking through the windows, little flower stickers to decorate.
Harry walks into the book shop, opening the door making the golden bell at the top of the door frame sound off. As soon as Harry steps in he notes the warm scent, it smells like the owner had been baking cookies. “Hello!” He hears a cheerful voice sing while he steps toward the poetry aisle in search of the book. “Is there anything I could help you with today?” He hears the voice again making him turn his head. To his surprise it’s Y/n, he’s been thinking about her. “Oh, hi.” He says bashfully, smiling and stepping over to the cashier counter she was behind.
Y/n smiles, continuing to add price tags on the back of her new shipment of books. She had started her little business officially a bit after she had gotten pregnant with Milo. Milo’s dad had left her after she broke the news to him, they were in their early twenty’s (Y/n being twenty one and him being twenty two) so it was understandable that he didn’t want children yet but the way he dealt with the situation was just dramatic and too much on Y/n. So she put everything into her little book shop, she took out a loan and bought this place, starting planning and putting her all into it, it wasn’t easy but it was worth it.
“Hi Harry.” She says, adding a book to the stack. Harry blushes at her tone again, she’s hard to read. “Um… do you happen to have burning in water, drowning in flame?” He asks, whirling around her display of different styles and colors of bookmarks. He is a twenty six year old man, why is acting like one of his students who thinks he’s handsome? Y/n laughs, nodding while she pulls her mug up to her lips- Harry thinks it’s hot chocolate (and he’s right). “It’s in poetry, first aisle, third shelf, second row.” She says, impressing Harry in how she has memorized every single spot of her book store.
Harry gives her a tight nod, walking over to the poetry section and looking for the book. “Is this your place?” Harry asks, making conversation while the rest of the store is dead silent.
“Yeah, me and Milo live in the flat upstairs.” Y/n admits. Harry’s ears perk up, she didn’t say anything about a partner. He walks back to the counter placing his book down, not handing it over to her yet. “When did you open this place?” He questions, looking around the shop. He sees some crystals, some candles- that both look up for sale and also her personal ones. It’s cute.
“After I got pregnant with Milo. Right after Xavier left me.” She says, leaving Harry wondering. “Xavier is…?” Y/n sighs, rolling her eyes a bit. It’s only their second time meeting and she’s already giving him her sob story. “He’s what would be Milo's father.” She says, picking at her bare nails. She doesn’t consider Xavier Milo's father, he’s never been there for him so he’s not a father. Harry’s lips form a tight line, “um, Loralies mum died… so… we’ve all got baggage.” He laughs, trying to cut the tension.
Loralies mum had died, she died during childbirth. She already had a particularly painful and rough pregnancy with Lora and that was just extremely unexpected, Harry just thanks his stars everyday that his little one is safe with him. “That’s awful, Harry. I‘m sorry.” Harry smiles at her, “it’s okay. I’ve got my Lora so I’m okay.” Y/n nods, smiling and grabbing the book from between his fingers. “She’s a sweet girl.” She compliments.
Harry nods, feeling a little cocky over how well he has raised his daughter. “Is this all for you?” She asks, pulling out a small brown bag with the logo and name on it- they are cute. “Yes please.” Harry politely says, making her laugh under her breath. “If this is your first time here? You get a free bookmark with every book you purchase if it is.” She says, nodding over to the bookmarks. Harry nods, looking through the bookmarks and picking a random Fleetwood Mac one- cute, he thinks. Y/n adds the bookmark to the bag, setting it infront of him. “13.22” she says, Harry fishing his wallet out.
“Are you doing a lot today?” He asks, motioning down to all the books stacked around her while he hands her a ten and four singles. She shrugs, “the usual.” Y/n says, handing him back his change. Harry thinks for a second, pausing his response making Y/n a little nervous. “I could help?” Harry offers, setting his coffee on the table. Y/n gives him a questionable look, sharpening one of her eyes at him. “You want to put tags on books and reorganize with me?” She asks, making Harry laugh. He nods, putting a bookmark back in its place “see, I’m already helping.” He says cheekily.
Y/n smiles, shaking her head. “I guess you can help.” She says.
Soon enough they are sat on the brown carpet, mountains of books around them. Y/n has a blanket wrapped around her and Harry has his legs stretched out. Y/n is tagging books while Harry is setting by the book shelf closest to them organizing. “I swear they put something in the water fountain at that school, the kids are always running and screaming around my classroom while I’m trying to talk about how Van Gogh cut off his own ear.” Harry says, making Y/n loudly giggle, thinking about how Milo probably gives him a horrible time on Wednesdays.
“You like working where Loralie is?” She asks, Harry of course nodding. Loralie is his baby, he loves knowing she’s just up the stairs- especially if she were to get sick or hurt he would be right there to take care of her. “Yeah, I wish I could always be with Milo but one of us has to make the money.” She jokes which makes Harry laugh.
“She always comes waddling into my classroom screaming for me- which disrupts the class but I don’t care.” He shrugs, his mind going back to Loralie. “Oh shit, I’ve got to pick her u-“
“Hi! How are you, baby!” Y/n cheers, Milo running toward her then crashing into her in a hug. Y/n’s friend Mikaela had babysat Milo for the day while Y/n tried to get as much work done as she could. Usually on the weekends (like today) Milo will be in the store with her… which tends to distract her. “Um, I’ve got to go but we should do this again? Maybe… over dinner?” Harry asks, Y/n’s face lighting up.
“Are you asking me on a date?” She teases, Harry blushing and nodding. Y/n laughs, slipping her phone from her pocket, “take my number and we can schedule that date you’re begging me for.” She teases.
Harry gets her number, thanking her for the book and letting him stay before he slips out. Now he’s got to get back to Loralie. But he’s got a date!
**
Later that night when Harry and Loralie are practicing her memorizing her ABCs his phone beeps. He ignores his at first, just expecting it to be a stupid text from his friend Mitch, but once he looks down he sees Y/n’s contact name. “Keep going, bug.” Harry says, grabbing his phone from the carpet while they set on the floor of the living room, unlocking his phone.
Hii, im free next Friday :) let me know if that works with your schedule!
Harry laughs at her cute little smiley faces, trying to think up a response that doesn’t make him sound a thousand years older than her. The tip of his tongue sticks out while he types back his response, his eyebrows knitted in concentration.
Hello! Friday works, how about 5:30? I can pick you up.
He lays his phone back down and helps Loralie with her letters, pulling her onto his lap. “D is for Daddy!” She cheers, making Harry smile, chuckling and kissing her round cheeks while she squeals. Harry hears his phone ding, grabbing it and reading the response, thanking god she answered. He thought his heart would explode out of his chest. It was beating so hard.
That sounds good ☺️ see you then!
Harry got her to say yes, but now he has to deal with the anxiety of actually going on the date. What should he wear, where should they go? Should he be opening the door and pulling out her chair or is that not in-in dating anymore? He hasn’t dated since Loralies mum and his baby is two years old now, it’s been quite a long time since he dipped his toe into trying to charm a woman. He just hopes he’s still got it.
****************************
The day is here. Loralie is with her grandma so Harry can get ready for the date. He’s been panicking and running all around his little house. He showered and smothered himself in lotion and his best cologne- he wanted to smell nice for her. He was adding leave in conditioner to his hair (which he hardly remembers to do) to make it more silky and the curls look a bit prettier than they usually do- he doesn’t know much about hair, he just does what his sister tells him what his hairdresser tells him he should do.
He planned out an outfit, a pair of tan dress pants with a white tank top and a cardigan over it. He had thought over the outfit a bit too much, was it too casual for the date? Was the cardigan too much? He decided against his thoughts and layers some pearls on, sliding his rings on that were in a jewelry dish, placed in there before his shower. He takes a look in the mirror, readjust his cardigan before he gives himself a little nod. He feels good about this.
He makes his way over to Y/n flat, walking up the metal steps to her flat and knocking on the door. When she opens the door he notices just how amazing her home smells, just like her book shop. He needs to remember to ask her where she gets her candles. “Hi,” Harry smiles, looking his date up and down. She was dressed nicely. It was a sage green dress with spaghetti straps, it stopped a couple inches above her knee. Harry thought it was cute.
She paired it with gold jewelry and a black cross body bag. Dirty white vans to go along with it that added a child-like feel to the outfit. Harry thought that was cute too.
“Hi,” she smiles, glancing behind her. “You look nice.” Harry says, suddenly feeling hot. Y/n laughs under her breath, thanking him. “You look nice as well.” Harry smiles bashfully, looking down at his feet. “Thank you”
Y/n says her goodbyes to Milo, hugging and kissing him before thanking her friend again for watching him. It’s the same one from last week, Mikaela. They get into Harry’s car, a bit of awkward silent before Y/n breaks it, Harry stopping the tapping of his fingers along to the low radio once her voice interrupts it. “So, where are we going?” She asks, smoothing her dress out against her thighs.
Harry laughs, he’s not prepared for dates and for some reason he hadn’t thought about the most important part. “I’ll eat anywhere to be honest.” Y/n admits, looking through her window at all the different places.
Harry was looking around in a panic and he finally pulled something out of his ass that sounded good, especially on his teacher salary. “Olive Garden?” Harry says, trying to say it confidently but it definitely comes out as more of a question. Y/n’s eyes light up, she’s in the mood for bottomless salad and breadsticks. “That sounds heavenly.” And Harry is happy to hear that.
They walk into the busy restaurant, instantly getting escorted to a table. Harry is happy they didn’t have to wait- that would have just been embarrassing since he threw this together last minute. They sat in the booth, sliding in and getting comfortable. “So, how’s the bookstore?” Harry asks, pulling apart his breadstick. Y/n knocks her shoe with his under the table, she thinks it’s cute how bashfully he can get when just asking a simple question. “It’s good. How are your little art students?” Harry playfully rolls his eyes at her choice of words.
“It’s good. They are doing self portraits.” Y/n laughs, her eyes widening.
“How’s that going?” Harry laughs, shaking his head. “They look like shittier versions of Picasso’s paintings.” Y/n dramatically gasps through her laughs, “aren’t you supposed to worship the ground that man walks on? Why would you say that?” Harry rolls his eyes once again, chuckling at her. “I’m just behind honest!”
Their date goes on the same, they order their food, giggling while they eat and even getting into a little food fight with the leftover breadsticks. (They weren't being humble, they asked for another basket) They finished their food, “That was fun.” Y/n admits smiling. Harry nods, taking the check and opening his wallet. “Here,” y/n holds out her card, Harry shaking his head. “I’ll pay.” Harry shrugs her off, handing his card tucked in the black check book the waiter had brought over back to him before she can further protest.
Y/n scoffs, throwing another breadstick at him that he tried to catch but it’s too greasy. “Hey! I thought we had a truce?!” Harry questions her. She shakes her head, apparently swearing off the truce. Harry shrugs, thanking the waiter when he brings his card back along with their mints. “You better sleep with one eye open then.” Harry says, standing up and waiting for her. She laughs, standing up and pulling her bag over her shoulder. “I have a three year old, I basically sleep with them both open. You’re nothin’.” She says, Harry nodding his head in agreement. He knows just how she feels.
They drive back to her flat, Harry of course walking her to her door. “I had so much fun tonight.” Harry says, looking down before he looks up at Y/n. She smiles, blushing. She hasn’t dated since Xavier and she admired that to Harry tonight, they both admitted that they haven’t dated since their children’s parents so they felt a lot comfortable knowing they were both rusty.
“Me too, you’re a really sweet guy, Harry.” She says. She needs to remember to thank her forgetful little Milo for leaving his folder in Harry’s classroom. “Thanks for agreeing to go out with me. I was pretty nervous.” Harry admits a bit sheepishly. Harry is a bit giddy on the inside about them hitting it off so well, they were having the best conversation and at times they were getting extremely loud, probably annoying the people around them, but they didn’t care, they had fun. “Yeah, I was nervous as hell but I haven’t had this much fun in a while. Thanks for tonight.” Y/n smiles, leaning in for a kiss.
Harry’s eyes widen, but he still kisses her back. He hasn’t kissed anyone in so long he thought he had forgot how to for a second. His hands come up to cup her jaw, moving his lips with hers. “I’ll see you soon. Have a good night.” Y/n smiles, opening her door with red cheeks. Harry nods, a little flabbergasted. “Have a good night.” He says, trudging down her steps.
And now he’s hooked on her.
Tag list: @romionefp @iaalien @hopeyoustaythenight @evanjh
If you liked this please reblog and please tell me what you thought of it ☺️ thank you for reading!! I hope you all like the series so far I’m writing part three right now so it should come out soon ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥
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lovelybarnes · 3 years
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god- l. laufeyson
pairings: loki laufeyson x reader, mentions of other avengers x reader
warnings: mentions of blood and injuries, veryyy little angst
about: requested! loki gets captured by avengers and healer!reader watches him
a/n: thank you so so much for requesting! i am so sorry it took me this long to finish it, and it came out so much longer than i planned, but i didn’t want loki to be ooc, i hope this was good!!
part two
the words you’ve been reading over and over again are beginning to blur. you can’t find it in yourself to care too much, instead choosing to shut the book and stare at the door. your fingers are tapping on the hard plastic protecting the thin cot underneath you, and you try to concentrate on the noise rather than the worry you can’t seem to shake.
they were supposed to be back by now, you think, teeth finding your bottom lip. you weren’t allowed on this mission. while they said the reason you were staying was because they didn’t need everyone, the blatant absence of every single avenger and extended hero said the opposite. you knew the reality was that the threat you weren’t even informed about was greater than usual, and while you had powers, they weren’t as helpful as others when it came to fighting.
so you were stuck waiting for the teammates you hadn’t heard from for nearly ten hours, only able to stand by until they inevitably came back with cuts and bruises for you to fix. halting the thought of if before you could think more of it, you stood, beginning to set up all the medical equipment you usually use for when they arrive. you’re distracting yourself with pointlessly organizing popsicle sticks that you won’t need when you hear the unmistakable sound of footsteps on the hallway. you immediately look out your open door, expecting to see the avengers, bringing the smell of blood and exhaustion, not… loki.
you can’t seem to stop how your lips part and your eyes follow him as he nears, suddenly catching his eyes through the movement of the agents surrounding him. your face heats when his lips quirk up in a small smile, sending you a flirty wink before he’s passed and you are left staring at the trace of him. you’re in a trance, and as much as you’d like to blame it on the god’s magic, you know it’s simply how attracted you are to him, even when you know you shouldn’t be.
you’ve never had a conversation with the god, barely been in the same vicinity as him, and your mind seems to be flooded with him. the avengers rarely talk about him, and on the occasion they do, it’s never remotely kind. you understand why- you saw the damage he’d caused in new york, but the more you read on him, the more you can somewhat understand why he did it, as inappropriate as it is. you’d asked thor to bring you books from asgard that loki has read and asked him to tell you about loki.
you can’t help it- the god is intriguing; it’s so magnificent how powerful he is that it nears terrifying, and he’s so stunning you’re concerned you’d make a fool of yourself in front of him, or cut your fingers on his cheekbones (although how the hell would your fingers get there? you prefer to not think too much into your impossible fantasies).
you’re not even completely certain that what just happened actually happened- because there is no way loki laufeyson looked at a puny mortal like you and didn’t gag.
a hand dropping on your shoulder is what snaps you out of it, turning around to see sam and bucky, “you good?” sam asks, and you nod, scanning the men for the injuries they came to you for. sam has a large gash along his thigh that you can see through a slash on his uniform, and forming bruises along the rest of his body, tiny cuts scattered on his face. bucky is considerably better, his speed healing is helping. there is dried blood that you’ll clean later on his face, small and slightly more serious cuts all over him but already healing, and a clearly dislocated shoulder that he set.
“alright, sam, you know the drill. bucky, please don’t grab any medical supplies and stitch anything like last time and just let me do my thing,” you request, lowering the stretcher so sam doesn’t stress any of his injuries when he sits. “lay down so i can get to work on that cut on your leg, sam.”
you help him on the bed and let him settle down by himself while you soak gauze in antiseptic for bucky. sam’s shirt is off when you turn back, holding back a wince at the darkening bruise splayed on his abdomen. you cut away his pants, wiping away all the blood surrounding the wound and cleaning it with water. “clean,” you mutter, lightly dragging your fingers along the wound, a warm pink sparkling where your touch had been, disappearing with the slice in his skin.
sam sighs when it’s all healed, looking down at his leg, “i am never getting used to that,” you hum a laugh when you move to some of the smaller cuts on his face, all of them healing with a simple move of your fingers. the yellowing that was beginning to form along his abdomen fades back into his normal skin color when your hands drift past them, and he smiles in satisfaction.
“well no broken bones this time,” you point out, patting his leg proudly. he grins, sitting up, “you proud of me?”
“very,” you respond, pressing a kiss to his cheek that relaxes all of his sore muscles, “you’re a gift to this world,” he thanks. you smile in response, sitting bucky down where sam was. sam picks up the clothing you always leave out, moving into your small bathroom to change while you work on bucky.
“how did it go?” you ask him, cleaning away the blood on his face. “not yours,” you comment on it, “i guess that’s good.”
“it went… as well as fighting a god can go,” he answers, you nod, “you fought a god?” you ask nonchalantly, as if you didn’t just have a strange encounter with said god. bucky nods, “loki. you saw him, y/n.”
your hands move in front of his face, warmth settling into the open wounds and closing them. “i was just making sure you’d tell me the truth. no one told me anything about this mission.” you pat at his arms, random injuries healing with a gentle pink. “no serious ones, right?” you ask, squinting at him as he shakes his head. “all of them healed down into small ones that you just healed.”
“okay, then,” you kiss his forehead, making his tense muscles loosen like sam’s. “do you know how much we appreciate it when you do that?” he asks, and you laugh. “making sure none of you are sore is a small thing, and i like doing it.” besides, thanks to that, you got natasha to warm up to your affection- she is now comfortable receiving hugs, and you consider that a win.
“so where’s loki going now?” you question, not noticing the three avengers behind you until tony answers, steve and natasha behind him. “one of the high security cells, you’re going to take turns babysitting him so he doesn’t try to kill everyone again.”
“i am?” you ask, motioning for the three to sit while sam and bucky leave. “not you, i don’t want anything to happen to you, but everyone else,” tony says, sitting in front of you. you roll your eyes in reply, “i’m not defenseless, tony. i’m an avenger for a reason. and it isn’t only because i can heal people.”
“why would you want to watch over him? rock of ages isn’t very interesting,” tony asks, you hold back the fact you think the opposite, continuing to pat at his cheek with a wet cotton swab. “it’s just sitting around and watching a man with an overgrown ego rant about evil plans,” natasha adds, making you shrug, “more than i usually do. most of the time, i have to sit around doing nothing until you guys come back, since steve won’t put me on missions,” you try to ignore how you’re defending someone who most of the people in this room consider a villain.
“we need to have you safe and intact in case anything happens,” steve defends. you sigh, having heard the same excuse multiple times before. “i know. doesn’t make feeling useless for most of the day any better.”
the topic is switched for the rest of the time they’re with you.
three days later, you haven’t even heard the god’s name. you can tell your conversation with tony ticked him off, and you’re worried he might have an idea of what runs through your mind when you think of loki, which explains the absence of anything loki-related. you’re disappointed, to say the least. the god you’ve been thinking about is in the same building as you, only a few floors below, locked inside a cell you know the code and have complete access to, and you can’t even think about him without the concern that tony might somehow find out. he’s been truthful about the babysitting; so far, each of the avengers have sat in with him, steve twice- you’re sure the second time was supposed to be you, but tony is infuriating and true to his word.
every avenger but you and natasha are gone today, though, and from the looks of the folder nick fury’s holding, walking down to loki’s cell where natasha is, it’ll be down to just you.
a few minutes later, you’re reading “the night manager,” when fury knocks on your door, making you look up. “you busy, l/n?” he asks, you shake your head, “have a mission for me?”
“yes. supervising loki laufeyson for the rest of the day, and preferably the night, too,” he instructs, an eyebrow raising when you haven’t moved from your seat, so you stand immediately, shutting your book with your finger bookmarking your page. “oh- yes, of course, sir. uh, i’ll get down there now, then,” you stammer, awkwardly squeezing past him in the doorway and heading to the elevator, “have a nice day, sir,” you wave, nearly bumping into a plant.
you always embarrass yourself in front of the man, which probably explains your limited interactions.
you try not to think about it during the elevator ride, foot tapping on the floor as the numbers lower until it dings. natasha is standing on the other side when the doors part, eyes meeting yours the moment they do. you smile at her, squeezing her arm when she passes to replace the kiss you’d usually place on her forehead to soothe the tense muscles you’re certain she has. she tells you to be careful in a whisper, unwilling to show anything to the god who is curiously examining you. the elevator hums as it closes, and you sit in the chair before the glass prison. “hello,” you greet with a small smile, slightly bowing your head before opening your book and flipping to the page you left off on.
it’s utterly useless, though. the words on the page are impossible to understand when you can feel his eyes on you, examining you in such a way, you’re sure he already knows more about you than you do about yourself. “it’s the night manager,” you say softly after a few excruciating seconds, setting the book down on your lap as you meet his eyes. “it’s a good book so far.”
your tone is light, and you think it’s part of the reason loki answers, “i have read it before. it’s… not completely terrible.”
“no way, i just got the god seal of approval on one of my books,” you say playfully, smiling at him before going back to reading.
“i have not seen you here before,” loki points out after a silent minute, and you nod in response, “that’s right, i haven’t gone down here since you came.”
there’s a dangerous smirk playing at loki’s lips, walking closer to you, “is it because you’re scared of me?” he asks, and you scoff softly. “you don’t scare me. you are… interesting. dangerous, of course, and i don’t agree with your actions, but i don’t think you lash out for no good reason.”
there’s a heavy quiet that follows your words, your gentle stare combatting loki’s suspicious one. you nearly pick up your book to resume until he speaks again. “you haven’t expressed your hate for me yet,” he observes, and you frown, “is that what they do? that’s not very nice.”
“neither am i, darling.” loki replies smoothly, making you shake your head, cheeks warming against your will at the pet name. “well, i don’t hate you. so i don’t see a reason to do that,” you point out.
loki actually looks… surprised for a split second, before his gaze sets on you, “and why is that?” he questions. you pause; you don’t actually know why. surely, you should- he attempted to take over your planet and hurt your friends, but you can’t bring yourself to hold any ill feeling towards him, not after hearing his brother talk so fondly of him even after all he’s put him through.
“i don’t know. i probably should, but i just don’t,” you respond in finality, trying to leave no room for the argument loki will surely bring. he quirks an eyebrow, watching as you stifle a yawn.
he surprisingly doesn’t elaborate, but you’re sure it was already on his tongue. your mind goes back to one of the previous things he’d said, and your frown returns, examining the god. you only realize it completely looks like you’re checking him out when he smirks, cocking his head, “would you like me to do a turn?” he asks, making you flush. “no, i- i was just-”
you let out a small puff of air, attempting to convert your thoughts into one coherent sentence, “are they feeding you correctly? i know shield is supposed to be humane or whatever, but some of the agents pick and choose, and-”
“do you always ramble like this?” loki cuts you off, and you shake your head, bashful, “not usually. but i’m not usually in the presence of a god.” loki smirks at that, “they haven’t. but as you pointed out, i am a god. thus i need very little food.”
the voice in your head that sounds strangely like tony is yelling at you to not care, because the person in front of you is evil- supposedly- and it would be highly inappropriate of you to care, but, like you usually do with tony, you ignore it, reaching into your pocket to get your phone. you type out that you’re hungry to maria, doubling your usual order of food with no questions from her but full of suspicion, you’re sure.
“what are you doing?” loki asks. “getting food. i’m not exactly sure what gods are supposed to eat, and it’s not like i can order a whole ham or whatever, but i don’t find myself loving the idea of starving prisoners.”
“why?” he asks, eyes slanted and head tilted like he tends to do. contemplating his question, you shrug, “because i can’t see why i shouldn’t.”
loki decides you’re bearable.
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farfromharry · 3 years
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The one with the makeover | Peter’s girl
Summary: Mj persuades you to give her a makeover after feeling like she isn’t pretty enough for her crush
Word count - 2317
Warnings - i don’t think there is any? possible language?
A/n - i’m really excited for this, if you want to join the taglist for this series you can join here!
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Peter Parker was head over heels for Liz Allan, and everyone could see it, probably even her too. Some might say it was slightly creepy, others might say it was cute puppy love, but Mj hated it, oh she hated it so much. You couldn’t blame her, because you did too.
The two of you were meant to be meeting Ned and Peter before school to exchange ideas about your Physics project you’d grouped up to work on. The plan was that they’d come over to your apartment to work on it tonight, if everyone stuck to the plan. It seemed like it was always you and Ned that were stuck actually working on it, Peter running off to who knows where, and Mj seemingly too cool to help out.
So here you and Mj were, waiting by Peter’s locker to see if he and Ned would show up as planned, on time, or if they’d be late like usual.
You heard the familiar laughter of the brunette boy before you saw him, prompting you to scan the crowded school hallway for him.
With her height advantage, Mj managed to spot him first, pointing the pair out.
“There they are, finally,” she huffed, nodding her head in their direction. You noticed that the two boys weren’t actually getting any closer to you. They seemed to have just frozen in their spot, staring straight ahead at the end of the hall behind you. You nudged Mj with a look of confusion, pointing out the odd behaviour, not that you weren’t used to their odd behaviour by now.
You both followed Peter’s stare to find his gaze fixated on, guess who? That’s right, Liz.
Your best friend let out a verbal sound of disagreement, slumping against the wall of lockers in defeat. You frowned, your eyes drifting back over to the boys.
“Ned, Peter, over here,” you bit back your smirk as you caught both of their attention, snapping Peter out of his daze. “We’ve been waiting for you guys forever.”
They made their way over to you with small smiles, the four of you starting up conversation. Well, more like the 3 of you, considering Peter was more interested in searching the crowd for Liz.
You placed your hand on his arm, your fingertips tracing the slight fuzz on his blue sweater. He turned to you with big eyes, looking down at your hand before his eyes flickered back up to yours.
“You okay, Pete?”
He nodded, giving you a tight lipped and very unconvincing smile. “Perfectly okay.”
»»——⍟——««
Gym class. A complete waste of time in your best friend’s opinion. Mj hated the class, she’d much rather be reading her book or sketching randomly in a secluded area of the library.
Partner tasks seemed to especially get on her nerves, especially when she was paired up with you. Yes, she loved you, but your level of participation in useless classes such as this one infuriated her. You always wanted to try and get her to join in, making up random excuses and false facts to make exercise seem more appealing.
Your eyes raked over your best friend lying down on the exercise mat, pretty much bench pressing her book while ignoring the sit ups exercise you were all currently meant to be doing.
Your coach was lazily circling the gym every so often, rolling his eyes whenever he caught sight of Mj. This was a consistent thing, Mj refusing to take part in these ‘dumb exercises’ as she called them, when she could be doing something much more worth of her time, like reading her favourite book again. He wasn’t going to question her at this point in the school year, finding it wasn’t worth the fight she’d put up in the end.
You however, had no problem trying to push to get the girl involved.
“Mj come on, if you aren’t going to do them can you at least help me do them?” you asked, using a whiny, childish tone that you knew got on her last nerve.
She rolled her eyes at your whining, placing her book beside the mat on the dirty gym floor with a grimace, folding the corner of her page as a bookmark.
The two of you switched places, having you lie down on the mat while she sat up on her knees. She placed her hands down on your shoes, adding some of her weight on them so you wouldn’t shift every time you sat up, allowing you to do the proper fitness technique that had been instructed by your teacher.
“Why do you even do this anyway,” she sassed. “It’s not like he cares.” She motioned her hand toward your teacher who was practically falling asleep against the Tv cart, his eyes barely even open anymore as he ‘supervised’ the class. Every time he jolted awake he accidentally made the cart roll a couple inches, nearly falling onto his face.
You let out an amused giggle, shaking your head and flashing her your signature cheery smile.
“Because, Michelle, every time I do one I get to see your smiling face,” you teased. She flashed you a sarcastic smile, rolling her eyes at your attempt of poking fun at her.
It was moments like those that often made people question how you and Michelle were actually friends when you were complete opposites.
You were a naturally bubbly person, always trying to make other people happy, very outgoing too, you liked to make lots of friends. Mj however was labelled as ‘dark,’ sad all the time, sarcastic, sometimes considered mean (by the people that didn’t know her.) She liked to keep her circle of friends small and she was pleased with that.
Compared to most people you were considered a ball of happiness and fluff, but compared to Mj you were practically a magical fairy.
“Peter knows Spiderman!” You two shared a look, your head turning in the flustered boy’s direction. You watched uncomfortably as a nervous, red faced Peter Parker stuttered his way through a minor conversation with Liz.
When Flash made a rude comment you fully expected Mj to jump in to Peter’s defense, she normally did when it came to him, who could blame her for not liking the kid.
“Yeah, I’m having a party, you should come.”
Out of the corner of your eye you saw her practically deflate, meaning she was letting Peter endure Flash’s pathetic words as some sort of petty punishment. You couldn’t be mad, Peter’s crush on the popular girl was so painfully obvious.
While everyone was distracted by Ned’s outrageous confession, you stood up from the floor and offered out your hand to Mj, sending her a reassuring smile. She sent one back, not a genuine one, but it was enough to tell you that seeing Peter send Liz those puppy, heart eyes hurt her.
“Come on,” you said, tugging on her hand so she hurried up. You led her out of the gym, in the direction of the locker rooms where you could change back into your normal clothes.
“What are we doing?” she asked, following you without hesitation. You just grinned, pushing open the doors to the locker room.
You found your bag on the bench where you left it, pulling out the sweet yellow sundress you wore to school. Mj had made sure to tell you that morning that you looked really good in it, and you were convinced your heart melted a little.
“We’re skipping,” you explained. Her eyes widened, staring at you in disbelief. You bit back your smile as you changed from your awful gym clothes into your dress, pulling on the jacket you brought with you to shield your arms from the cold breeze.
“Who are you and what have you done with my Y/N?” she asked, her eyebrows furrowed. You giggled quietly, handing her bag of clothes to her.
“It’s friday and you need cheering up, let’s go have some fun.”
She stared at you like you were some kind of extraterrestrial being, placing the back of her hand on your forehead to make sure your temperature was normal.
“You never do anything rebellious, what’s gotten into you?” she asked. You shrugged, letting out genuinely excited and happy laughter. The noise of your contagious laughter made her smile, deciding she was willing to do whatever you wanted.
“There’s a first time for everything, I guess.”
She started to change into the clothes she was wearing earlier. A simple dark pair of jeans, a band tee and a dark brown jacket to top it all off, the ‘classic Mj’ look.
“I guess I’ll support this,” you cheered, ignoring the way she rolled her eyes at you. “But this is one time, don’t let this become a common occurence,” she warned.
“Okay Mom, jeez.” She scoffed, placing her hand over her heart in offense. You didn’t give her time to clapback, taking her hand in yours again.
“Now come on, let’s go.”
»»——⍟——««
The two of you did manage to sneak away without being noticed, something you were both very grateful for, because that wouldn’t have been fun to explain to your parents.
Luckily they weren’t home, so you and Mj decided to hang out in your room, listening to music while making random conversation. She clearly avoided the topic of Peter and you were more than okay with that.
Conversation between you both eventually died down for a little bit, the two of you busying yourselves with your own tasks. You’d chosen to pick up a book, one of Mj’s recommendations of course, while she just laid there quietly.
“Is it because she’s prettier than me?” she asked, completely out of nowhere. You lifted your head from your book, looking at where she laid on her stomach on your bed, cocking your head in confusion.
“Who?”
“Liz,” she mumbled. She’d told you before that Peter drooling over Liz made her sad, and she didn’t why. You’d suggested it could be a small crush, even if she didn’t want to admit it or thought it wasn’t, but you never thought Mj would actually end up being insecure over it.
You frowned, standing up from your desk chair to climb on your bed next to her. She laid her head in your lap, enjoying the way you stroked your fingers over her curls.
You didn’t know what to say, your heart aching as you noticed the saddened look on her face.
“He’s just blind, he doesn’t see this amazing girl in front of him.” Your words clearly hadn’t done much to up lift her, seeing as the next words that came out of her mouth made you want to roll your eyes.
“Can you give me a makeover?” she asked quietly, almost like a scared child. You frowned.
“What do you mean?” She sighed, worried you were going to either make fun of her or scold her for wanting to try and look better for some boy. She sat up across from you and took your hands in hers, a pleading expression on her face.
“Do my hair, my makeup, anything, please.”
You were hesitant at first, and she could tell, but as soon as she flashed you her puppy dog eyes she knew she’d broken you down. You let out a groan, standing up from your bed to move over to where you kept your own makeup.
“Fine, c’mere.”
»»——⍟——««
It didn’t take much to make the girl look beautiful because she didn’t actually need any makeup in your opinion.
“Done,” you smiled, guiding her over to the mirror with her eyes closed. You helped her stand so she’d be able to see, shifting a few of her curls behind her ear so she could get a clearer view of her face. “And, open.”
Her honey eyes fluttered open, a gasp slipping past her lips as she caught sight of herself in the mirror. You stood behind her with a grin, glad to see that she looked happy.
“Look at you,” you whispered, placing your chin on her shoulder and your hands on her upper arms. She scanned herself from head to toe in the mirror, a soft smile creeping onto her face.
“I-I look-“ She was practically speechless.
“Stunning, you look absolutely gorgeous.” She looked down at her hands, beginning to pick at the nail polish on her finger nails. You could tell she was growing shy from the way she refused to look you in the eye, the girl clearly not used to getting compliments. “But you always look gorgeous, and who cares what he thinks?”
She took a deep breath, nodding her head and standing a little straighter.
“Yeah, who cares what he thinks, he’s just a dumb boy.” You cheered quietly, happy that you were able to make her smile after her awful mood earlier this afternoon.
“Who’s a dumb boy?” Both of your heads snapped in the direction of your bedroom door, a silent gasp slipping past your lips as you saw Peter and Ned standing there awkwardly.
You and Mj shared a nervous look, silently making a pact to keep that information to yourselves. You grew slightly flustered feeling Peter’s gaze burn into the side of your head, but you ignored it the best you could.
“Uh, no one important,” you reassured. You saw Peter’s eyes widen when his vision drifted to Mj, noticing how her face looked a little different.
“Wow Mj, you look-“ He was lost for words, trying his best to compliment one of his friends. He saw her smile falter slightly and he quickly sputtered out a word. “Beautiful.”
Her eyes bulged, an unintentional grin spreading across her face. Meanwhile your heart was breaking, part of you wishing the world would just swallow you up.
However, Ned came to save the day. “So, the project?”
━━━━━━━━━♡♥♡━━━━━━━━━
peter’s girl taglist → @sunsetholland @captainamirica @tomsirishgirlx @givebuckyhisplumsnow
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captainsimagines · 3 years
Text
To Topple A Giant || Chapter Seven
Summary: You had made it your mission to destroy even the smallest evils. When the opportunity arises to finally take down your own family after years of gaining their trust, you reach for it. And so does Steve, the man who represents a symbol of everything you hate.
Pairing(s): Steve Rogers x Reader || Avengers x Reader
Part 7 of 10 ~ Mini-Series
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Warnings: This story contains mature themes and discussions such as extreme canon violence, strong language, emotional angst, mentions of Endgame deaths and recoveries, sexual situations, and emotional/physical abuse. This is purely fanfiction.
Warnings in this Chapter: abusive parental relationship; strong language; canon-level violence (explosions); mentions of alcohol poisoning; mention of Infinity War/Endgame deaths; perceived domestic partner abuse (no such thing actually happens!); concussions and minor injuries; mentions of arranged marriages; mentions of drug smuggling and human smuggling; lying; ANGST!
Word Count: 14,100+
A/N: So close to the finish line...
~
Spain, 2024, 5:07 pm.
    “Get the damn ice cream, Peter. I’m not holding you back.”
The kid sped down the sidewalk as fast as his feet would let him, skips in his steps and ignoring the chastising yells from Bucky. 
“You’re letting him have sugar?” Bucky whines, sluggish in his own steps. The Spanish summer sun was blaring, burning your forehead and building the same cold craving in your throat. It was just the three of you, carefree but melting, happy but annoyed with the constant proximity of each other. The villa (if you could call it that, it was more of a cottage) was listed as having three rooms - not the two you were stuck with. Bucky was at the last inch of self-control, begging you to switch with him - if only for one night - because ‘the kid fuckin’ talks in his sleep, doll! One more night and I might smother him.’
It was Bucky’s idea to take a little vacation. A year after the blip and only a few months after Peter’s world was turned upside down, a vacation seemed like the best choice. Preferably somewhere that was quiet and somewhat rural - somewhere you guys won’t be easily recognized. 
So the three of you packed and flew across the pond. In all honesty, you hadn’t even told the rest of the team where you were going besides Wanda. One day you were greeting them in the common room and preparing lunch, the other you were throwing your suitcase in one of the two vacant rooms in this little Spanish cottage. The three of you were truly off the map in terms of late notice. 
“Let the kid live. He’s having a mid-life crisis at eighteen.”
“I’ve had more mid-life crisis’s than his age combined. He’s not special.” The pointed look on your face had Bucky sighing in small defeat. “Okay, okay.”
These past two weeks in shared solitude, even if this trip was supposed to be relaxing, was beginning to melt into a tiresome routine. Well, just nights. The days were mild at best. And to make matters worse, you and Bucky had been dodging the team’s calls, messages that you left for voicemail. Bucky had clicked ‘end call’ more times than he could count and his excuse was always, ‘ the kid doesn’t want to leave, doll.’ Even annoyed with Peter, Bucky wanted only the best. 
It was only a matter of time until your phones were tracked and you were forced to come home. Everyone probably knew where you were anyway - you weren’t exactly hiding. But since you already got a good two weeks in, you figured they had taken some sympathy. 
“Think we can get him to visit a museum today or something?”
Bucky shrugged, lining up at the coffee stand near the ice cream cart. “Saw him checking out banana bread recipes last night. Seems more like a baking day.”
You could go for some banana bread. Ordering two iced coffees and making more miscellaneous small talk while waiting for Peter to order, you studied the streets of Spain. The country had suffered greatly when, cruelly, more than half their population disappeared. Left in proper ruins, no one believed it would ever recover. But then there was an election, a change in the structural government, and it just… did. They rebuilt themselves better than any country had, in your opinion. 
It was a rather calm day with minimal people out and about. It was exactly what you guys deserved after every mission - in your case, after a long month of PR recovery after that bar fight alongside Sam. 
“You bake, Barnes?”
He smiled fully, “Any chance I get.”
“You guys want anything?” Peter yelled out, bouncing lightly on his heels as he waited. You waved him off. “You sure? It’s pretty cheap for summer prices!”
After rejecting Peter’s dozen ice cream questions and offers, the three of you decided the heat was a little too much to bear, even with sunscreen. Peter spoke most of the way. Something about that banana bread.
Bucky, being the baker, helped him choose the best recipe of the four Peter had bookmarked and soon the kitchen was only half dirty with eggs and mashed bananas.
“What do you mean a cup of baking soda, kid? Use your eyes,” Bucky yelled in second hand embarrassment. “I don’t think a cup of baking soda goes in anything.”
“Read right here, dude,” Peter poked at his tablet. “A cuuuu... okay. Okay, I see what I read wrong.”
“You two better be making me some good ass banana bread today. I don’t want to throw up!” You had opted to let the two men have their fun in the kitchen. You tried to bake, but you were more of a cook than anything else.
“You could be reading out the directions.”
“I could do a lot of things,” you respond with the emphasis on “could”.
The doorbell interrupted your no-so-real argument. Peter snickered, “You could get the door.”
With a displeased grunt and a straightened middle finger to the kid, you opened the door to find two people who were definitely not invited. Clint, with this magical and massive smile on his face and Steve, with his eyebrow cocked and arms crossed.
“Oh, would you look at that. Guests! Welcome to our humble abode!”
“Now, how and why?” Bucky groaned. But his actions contradict his words as he went to give Steve a hug, covered in flour and all.
“Hey, Clint,” you mumbled, purposely ignoring the super soldier side-eyeing you. “Care to tell us what you’re doing here?
Clint returned your warm smile, “See, Cap? They’re safe. Can we go now?”
Steve rolled his eyes, arms crossed over his chest in a rather demanding way. “We’re here to take them home, Clint.”
Bucky scoffs.
“Eh, you might be. But I’m here to soak up some of this Spanish sun.” A low grunt sounded in the back of Clint’s throat as he spoke. He was already making his way to pick at the mashed ingredients. 
“You heard the man, pal,” Bucky slaps Steve’s shoulder, leaving him at the door as well. Awkwardly left alone, you blow a small raspberry and step aside to let Steve in. Bucky continues, “We’re here to soak up some sun. And I’m not done soakin’.”
With great protest, Steve maneuvers Bucky away from the kitchen and into the hallway beside the master bedroom. With both super soldiers out of the way, you finally go to help Peter with mixing. “Why did he come, really?”
Clint shrugs, arms deep inside your cabinets and collecting whatever desserts you had pre-packaged. “Honestly? I think he missed you guys.”
“All this drama because he misses Bucky? He could have just shown up declaring truce and had a nice little vacation,” you mumbled, glaring at Steve from behind. 
“Think he felt like he needed an excuse to even show up. But they really are asking for you guys back home. Threatened to arrest your ass.”
“Lucky me.”
You could make out snippets of their tiny argument up ahead. 
‘You could have called.’
‘You haven’t been answering the phone, Buck.’
‘I’ve been relaxing.’
A heavy sigh. 
‘I just thought we told each other everything.’
‘Believe it or not, Steve… but I’ve got more friends now. Isn’t that what you wanted? I’m not trying to ignore you, I - I just needed to help another friend out this time.’
Peter, with great care, washes his hands and makes sure there aren't any random mashes of banana on his clothing before he side-steps you and Clint to interrupt the very ‘private’ conversation between the super soldiers. “Hey, Mr. Steve- Cap, hey.”
Steve immediately lets his hard gaze falter. “Hey, kid. You doin’ good?”
Peter nods in response. 
“He’s doing great! Much needed vacation that still isn’t over.”
“Buck.”
Inserting yourself may not have been the best option. “Give it up, Rogers. We’re on vacation. And until the kid says he’s ready to go home, we go home.”
Peter fumbles, “Oh, please don’t put me on the spot like that. I’m not good with confrontation.”
Bucky quickly answers before Steve can, “It’s not confrontation, Peter. We love being out here and if it’s helping your mental health, we’re not going to take that away from you.”
Steve blinks and his expression looks like one of hurt. “You think I wanna do that? The literal president has been asking for your location. You’re not allowed to leave the country.”
You shrug, “Well, no one told me that.”
“Buck, you were just granted immunity three months ago. And you go and drop off the face of the earth?”
“I’m literally in Spain.”
Steve blinks again. He really can’t believe he’s got to deal with two people with similar personalities. “Your point?”
“On Earth…?”
Clint decides to make his presence known. He has even inserted the poured batter into the glass tray for you guys. “Why don’t we just stay with ‘em, Cap? God knows you need a vacation, too.”
“We have two rooms. You’d be bunking on the floor,” you say, pointing to random areas on the floor.
Clint waves his hand in the air, “Not the worst place I’ve slept in.”
“I’m being hounded day and night to bring you three home.” Steve looks about ready to burst into tears of frustration.
“Turn off your phone?”
Steve whips his head and stomps to close the few feet of distance between the two of you. “You really think it’s that easy? You really think I wasn’t worried when my two best friends just disappeared one night and didn’t tell me?”
Two.
Best. 
Friends. 
Before you could even comment, Bucky puts on the dramatics.  “We ran away together, Stevie. We meant to tell you.”
Steve takes a moment, just staring at the ceiling and piecing together his thoughts. “Joke all you want, Buck. I’m bringing you home.”
“Ste-”
“No!” He’s stomping back to the front door now. “I’ve had enough! I can’t stand not knowing where you guys are all day when bad things keep happening in this world. Just… just come home.”
All is quiet besides the quiet munching of Clint and his rogue cookie. Steve’s face did this thing when he was at war with himself, anxiety crawling up his arms or panic weighing his empty stomach down. His face drained color and that perfect renaissance oil lost its blush, blended paint that turned a murky gray. A masterpiece lost in storage.
“I can take the couch,” you whisper, arms erupting in goosebumps. “You guys can stay the night and we’ll go home tomorrow, okay? Or somewhere pre-approved, I guess.”
Bucky didn’t argue. Neither did Peter. 
Steve's imaginary painter adds the softest pink back to Steve’s cheeks as you compile a mess of blankets and pillows for him.
Present Day, 2025, 7:15 am
     There’s a warmth near you as you begin to lazily shuffle against the sheets, heavy on your chest but comfortable all in all. 
There are no worries, no sudden bursts of Avenger business, no fights needing to be fought. Simply Steve warm against you with sunlight draping over his bare and freckled shoulders. 
The serum enhanced for the sole purpose of strength and survival. And sure, it healed the body quicker than the average human body could naturally, but the one thing it couldn’t do was strip personality. 
Steve had freckles splattered along his broad shoulders and down to in between his shoulder blades, light in color and all similar in size. Something a lot of people hated about themselves and tried to cover up while others tried to mimic. The serum was supposed to heal damaged skin, sunburnt areas, birthmarks, and even moles - at least, that’s what the official 1943 report had claimed. 
But over the years, Steve had continued to age and grow into his new body. And while he couldn’t get dangerously sick anymore, anything unknown could still occur. No one had the same serum as Steve and last Tony had heard, Peggy had spilled the last remnants of Steve’s original DNA (blood they took before the procedure) in the Hudson. Bucky seemed to be experiencing the same natural changes as well. 
It had been proven that neither Steve nor Bucky could carry or transmit diseases, experience abnormal cell production, nor could they develop a lifelong ailment without severe reason. 
So imagine everyone’s surprise when Clint called one morning while deep in a routine mission (somewhere in Africa, you really don’t remember) to relay the news that, ‘you guys aren’t gonna fucking believe this - yeah Rogers, I’m telling them the hilarious news right now - Steve’s appendix just up and exploded last night - hey! He just stole - hold on. Give me back my hearing aid, you abelist fuck!’. 
Steve had stretch marks on his back from the procedure, his elbow still hurt from time to time after he had snapped it a year ago, and the white scar above his right hip reminded him that even super soldiers are not exempt from the wonders of the appendix. 
His breathing was slow and his eyelids flickered. Seemed he was enjoying his first deep sleep in a while. You craned your neck to try and read the cable box across the room, slightly making out a seven in the front before you gave up. You were due for your annual eye appointment, anyway. 
Steve did have perfect eyesight though, so damn him.
You shrugged the sheets from your arms. He was on his stomach, cheek planted on your chest and right foot dangling off the side of the bed. His left arm was draped over your middle and his right was tucked inside a pillowcase. His hair draped over his forehead and some of it was still tucked behind his ears. 
Careful to not wake him, you gently traced the ridge of his nose with your index finger, resting it on the tip that always turned bright pink regardless of mood. Once at the end, you went back up to trace it again. 
“Beak,” you whispered more to yourself, and you bit your lip to suppress the overwhelming urge to giggle. 
Steve was here, next to and near you, and he was so warm. 
You could have stayed in bed for hours, sleeping and cuddling and fucking, and you would bet your left kidney that Steve wanted that too. It was impossible to question it, it had to be, because Steve was too genuine. You had met hundreds of men in your life: some the literal devil, some cowards, some reserved, and rarely, some genuine at heart. Steve fit some category that didn’t even exist. 
You wanted to love him and hate him. You wanted to make love and fuck him. You wanted to kiss him and annoy him. He checked a box that didn’t exist but that you would just have to reserve for him. The annoying little shit who could lift Thor’s hammer. 
The door almost ripped off its hinges by the brute force of someone’s leg. You didn’t even fully register being crushed by Steve until his elbow stabbed you right in the gut. 
“Rogers!” you groaned in pain and half trying to reach for your pistol on the bedside table. 
There was a collective gasp of surprise (and maybe terror) from the people that just broke down your door. After yesterday’s unplanned run-in with Ramirez, no doubt this was called-for.
“Oh, hell…” Sam grumbled, lowering his gun the second he realized two of his friends were sharing one bed. “Lemme guess, the other bed’s mattress was too firm but this one’s just right.”
Bucky stood behind him, a knowing smirk plastered on his smug face. He looked between you and Steve, ignoring the way Scott was practically pulling his shoulder down in pure fits of laughter. Didn’t take much for Scott to tip himself over and almost drag Bucky down with him. 
“Couldn’t you knock?” Steve nearly yelled, body still trying to shield yours even though you were fully dressed. You were struggling to push him away in pure embarrassment, but he seemed intent with this form of protection. 
“You weren’t answering your phone! We changed our check-in times to seven instead of eight, remember?”
Steve, ever the gentleman, brought the sheets up higher for you and finally lifted himself out of bed. 
And Bucky, ever the gentleman who has been spending way too much time with Clint, nodded his head toward you. “You two fuck?”
Mouth dropping in humiliation, you pulled the sheets up over your head and screamed into the temporary cover. Steve sputtered over whatever explanation he was thinking of pulling out of his ass. 
“You two fucked,” Bucky smugly confirmed. 
Steve pulled on the nearest shirt and went to kick Scott, who was ‘criss-cross apple-sauced’ on the floor and laughing way too loudly. “Is it really any of your business?”
“Man, that’s an answer!” Sam was about to fall into the same fit as Scott. 
Annoyed, and fueled by that annoyance, you ripped the sheets off and marched for the bathroom. “You really want to know, you nosy little fucks? We did fuck and he made me come three times. Ask him how, I’m sure he’ll teach you a thing or two, no matter how embarrassed he may seem right now.”
You left him alone. You literally just exposed him and you left him alone with the wolves. 
All was quiet until Sam blew a small raspberry. “Three times?”
     Bucky didn’t need to speak to show he was about to tease the hell out of you. He simply sipped his coffee until he emptied it, and then refilled it. You couldn’t even finish a single mug yet because you were waiting to break the tension. 
Looking around the hotel bar because he still valued your privacy, Bucky made sure to keep his voice low. “Three times?”
Half wanting to slap the smirk off his face and the other half wanting to announce Steve’s naughty accomplishment, you settled for pouring more coffee into your mug. 
“Don’t you dare hold what I said against me, I literally had just woken up.”
“Mm, yeah. I remember how you literally moaned Thor’s name when you were startled awake from a nap in the living room.”
“Bucky!” you yelled, turning your shoulders inwards when you received a few odd looks from other early risers. Well, some were early risers. The person closest to the door was an agent, as was the other eating breakfast at the bar. “You promised you would never mention that again!”
He shook his head with amusement, “I can’t believe you swore me to secrecy when Loki basically told everyone.”
“He-!” Choking on your own spit, you slid lower into your booth. “That mischievous, conniving, son of a bitch.”
“In all honesty, I think that was his way of flirting with you.”
“Telling everyone I had a wet dream about his brother?”
“Oh, you wouldn’t be the first.”
You smirked, “Oh, trust me. I know.”
Bucky squinted, guilty in his spoken words. “All I’m saying is, it’s nice that you didn’t just write Steve off with us, as if nothing happened.”
It made your heart swell that even in a moment with you, Bucky would still always protect Steve. 
“I would never. We actually talked last night and he really apologized.”
“Really?” His eyes were hopeful. 
“He did. And as cliche as it sounds, one thing led to another.”
You realized your earlier words were contradictory when Bucky sighed sadly, “This better not have been a one time thing. I’ll strangle you both.”
You scoffed and finally took a piece of that blueberry muffin on your plate. “Screw you, Barnes. It’s Steve we’re talking about. I’d give him the world if I could.”
That made Bucky blush. “God, I’m stupidly happy for him. I always said he’d need to find a dame who had as big of a mouth as he does.”
Rolling your eyes, you offered him some of that muffin. He gladly broke off a piece. “Don’t go marrying us off just yet.”
“Doll, he almost imploded when we discovered you slept together. Teasing him about proposing might just kill him.”
You laughed at that. Although Steve had admitted he regretted the time you lost, there wasn’t any chance he would push you any further. He was probably comfortable with taking things slow, no matter the history. You had that in common. 
“Seems we’re all just gonna have to make sure we don’t cause his demise.”
Smiling as he chewed, Bucky played with your feet under the table. Safe moments like these always occurred before a mission, no matter how simple or heavy they were. And like people love to say, you never fought with each other before. Just in case. 
Going to bed angry was another thing entirely. That, the whole team was proficient in. 
“You ready for tonight?”
Yesterday had definitely turned you against the very concept of family reunions, what with the small ache between your shoulders. You were angry with Seda, with Ernesto, disappointed with Ramirez, and neutral toward your sister. 
God, your sister. This would be the first time since you left Mexico for school and SHIELD that you would be seeing her, as well as your other siblings. Jackeline was perhaps the only sibling you had some real memories with. Everyone else was already deep in the business or far away from the chaos. The team only knew of two other siblings who rsvp’d. The others: radio silence. 
“Part of me just wants a normal family wedding. I’m kinda hoping we can just end it all tonight.”
“Be careful what you wish for,” Bucky chuckled, finishing off your muffin for you. “You’ll get some closure soon enough.”
There was no such thing as closure. Just less of a constant sting. 
“Bucky,” you spoke seriously now. “My father made Steve sign something yesterday.”
“He told us at the debrief yesterday.”
“When did you have a debrief?”
Bucky scooted in his booth, quickly explaining. “Uh well, it wasn’t so much of a debrief as it was a simple overview. Just a heads up.”
You tilted your head, somewhat unconvinced. “Uh-huh… but we could void it, right? He had a fucking notary there and everything.”
“We can declare it void, yeah Y/N,” he grabbed your hand over the table. “He won’t get tangled in this.”
With a heavy sigh, you gripped Bucky’s hand tighter. “I’m really glad you guys are gonna help us.”
He returned your smile. “Anything for family.”
Family. 
After all these years of self-hatred and despising your own blood, you blinded yourself of the simple truth that you already had a real family. Whether you were accepted after Sokovia, or after you helped Steve escape with Bucky, or after those long five years, you were accepted. And you accepted them right back. 
    The briefing goes as expected. Didn’t seem like anyone was going to live down the now obvious fact that you and Steve had slept together after years of unnoticed pining. You simply took the teasing in stride, better than Steve even, who stuffed his face full of chips in embarrassment.
The plan was simple but ever-evolving. The three of them will hang back: Bucky at the hotel, Scott and Sam at the nearby base with Torres. The base was fifteen minutes from the estate, hidden behind those same pine trees but the perfect cover - it was a nearby diner. Steve will still take the shield, FRIDAY was installed on your personal phones, and any weapons you attached to your person were specifically made to deter metal detectors. Once in, it was mingle, mingle, mingle.
There were going to be a thousand questions to answer: What in the world is Captain America doing here? Is he here to cause trouble? Are you two seriously dating? So, Captain America being one of us means holding Thor’s hammer was a myth, aye?
Then you would move on to the more important guests. Jackeline’s greeting would be more of a reunion. But flying under and over the radar had to walk the same line - you needed to mix in with the crowd and make sure they see you participating, but then escape for a little while to continue the mission.
Once in, the task was to electronically and physically retrieve everything Scott didn’t have time to yesterday, plus the new information Ernesto got for today and tomorrow. His latest emails, list of contacts, checks, birth certificates, video evidence.
“Do we all know our duties?”
You wanted to wrap up Steve’s commanding voice and keep it a special secret, a secret that was yours and the team’s to share.
“We got it, Cap. For the tenth time this week - you two okay?”
Sam was rewarded with a slanted smile. “Everytime you ask me that, I’ll lie.”
He nods, “At least you admit it. You’re not alone in this.”
“For years,” you continued, “It’s been that way. I guess I’m both ready for it to end and not. I want them behind bars. I don’t want the repercussions.”
“Makes sense,” Bucky agrees. “At least part of the fight will be over.”
Beside you, Steve clenches his jaw. “We’re always fighting.”
Bucky grins at him, “Yeah.” There’s a sparkle in his eye as he leans forward to squeeze Steve’s thigh. “At least it’s not with each other anymore.”
     They weren’t lying when they said vibranium was lightweight. Felt different from nano-tech and was an obvious change from your regular body suit. You felt protected and stylish. Good, because even though you weren’t obligated to impress those vultures, there were still a few cousins and extended family members you wanted compliments from. And?
The black turtleneck was warmer than you expected and didn’t strangle you. You were a bundle of velvet bliss right now. The cuffs were a golden brown, completely made from vibranium. Modeling in the mirror, you whispered a few ‘pew-pew’s as you blocked pretend bullets. C’mon, golden bracelets? You were basically Wonder Woman. 
The tights were your own, thin and black and you could still see there were faint bruises on your knees from training. Once all that was situated, you pulled on the long skirt and tucked in the bottom of your shirt, glad the way the high-waisted design sucked everything in. The skirt was the same golden brown as the cuffs, shorter in the front and wavy as it draped down the back, barely reaching your ankles. You tied the skirt’s belt in a tight bow and pulled on the black boots Shuri had also sent you. The heel was thick and short, and the boot was pretty tight around the top of your ankle. 
Time was ticking on that well-deserved goody basket you were meaning to send to the royal siblings. 
Hoop earrings, three rings dressing your left hand, a simple golden necklace - now you need to do your hair and make-up. 
Steve was just patiently waiting for his turn in the bathroom, bless his heart. 
     “Scott said the files are in his personal belongings. We suspect he’s planning to smuggle over fifty people tomorrow. Their records should be hidden away in those belongings, too.” 
Sam always kept a leveled head in dire situations like these. He was rational and helpful, always waited until the job was done and everyone was safe before he had a drink or a cry. It was safest, perhaps the most fair thing the Avengers could do for the public after destroying half the cities they fought in. The media didn’t need to know about the late-night fights, alcohol poisoning, or frequent therapy sessions. Your coping methods were all different - Steve has no doubt Sam will immediately pack an overnight bag and Bucky to visit his sister and nephews once the wedding concluded. 
Steve? Well, Steve was surprisingly calm, all things considered. 
“You get any hits yet? Anything from Ramirez that could help us find those people sooner?”
Sam sighs sadly, shaking his head. “It’s looking like we’re heading into a full-on fight.”
That’s not what Steve wanted to hear. A ‘full-on’ fight almost always had accidents, misfires, innocent casualties, and a few cuts and scrapes to add to his own personal collection. 
“Sam,” Steve puts down the files in his hand and shuts off his monitor to signal he’s done researching for the night. “I really don’t know how to thank you.”
“You know,” Sam smiles at him, “I’m gettin’ real tired hearin’ you say that.”
Steve huffs out a laugh. Sam gently exhales - Steve can feel it. 
“You two really are the same.” Sam points at Steve and to the bathroom door. “Always apologizing for shit you can’t control.”
Steve looks down to his feet, a blush in his pale cheeks. After failing to clip his cufflinks on his own, he holds his arms out to Sam who happily clips them for him. 
“Is it real?”
Steve pauses. He doesn’t really need to think about it because he knows. He’s known for a while even if he was on autopilot. The pause only serves to help him catch his breath from the happy prickle that crawls up his spine. “As real as second chances go.”
Sam laughs and claps his shoulder, “I get it. We seem to get a hell of a lotta those.”
      Now that the mission was truly kicking into gear, fucking full speed ahead, Steve had no other choice but to pull shreds of Captain America from that metaphorical attic of his. Took everything in him to revert back, never fully, and each time would be different from the last. Sometimes it was mentally draining being responsible for a whole team and creating the plans, other times he regretfully felt like a colonizer, an intruder who followed orders from the top and was forced to execute them. This time around, he was stepping into uncharted territory, but still familiar, and he had a million roles to mime. 
“Steeeve.”
His smile was instant and he gravitated to your voice. “Hmm?”
“So, I have an idea for a hairstyle,” you reply, throwing open the bathroom door with a brush in one hand and the other holding the top layers of your hair up. “I got enough hair for it.”
“Tell me about it. It gets in the way of everything.”
“Haha.” You rolled your eyes, still trying to shovel more hair higher. “I curled it, so all I gotta do is tug this upper half up into a ponytail while the rest stays down. But can you help? My shoulders still hurt and I haven’t taken my advil yet.”
Steve shuffles back into the room to grab you two pills before he replaces his hands with yours. “So, just lift it up?”
You hum confirmation, watching Steve in the mirror as he pulled your thick curls higher, snapped the hair tie between his teeth, and tied it all. He pulled the strands outward so the high curls still fell around your face. The hairstyle would have been easier with extensions (for a much fuller look) but if you had to throw your body around these next two days, you’d rather save yourself the embarrassment of having them pulled off. 
“Thank you,” you blush. These moments were so intimate, so sweet, just you and Steve. “You need any help?”
Steve looks down at himself. He had already tied his own tie. He could style his own hair and comb his beard. “I think I’m good. Forgot to pack cologne, though.”
“I’ve got some perfume in my suitcase. There should be one in there that isn’t too flowery.”
Steve rolls his eyes and turns to leave. “Not really a problem, doll.”
Pulling on his suit jacket and reaching for your suitcase to set it on the bed, he miscalculated the balance he was so obviously lacking. Instead of toppling head first himself, he fumbles your suitcase and spills its contents on your bed. He stills for a second, looking to the closed bathroom door to see if you popped your head through to ask what the hell that sound was. But it remained closed, and Steve silently groaned because of his clumsiness. 
He tries his best to roll the clothing items back in, cursing whenever he would accidentally squeeze a perfume bottle you had hidden in there. He counted three. The one he picks smells like roses.
Amongst the ruins he finds your passport, multiple IDs, and two pairs of sunglasses. He chuckles to himself and thinks, we’ve been here for four days and she hasn’t worn these once.
A torn piece of paper stood out from the pile, folded neatly in its own envelope but still damaged. 
     CLINT
Curious, Steve opens the envelope, wholeheartedly expecting to find the written contents from the archer himself, but pauses when he reads the simple sentence, in your handwriting. 
‘After careful deliberation, I have come to the conclusion that I want you to have all my video games.’
If Steve didn’t know any better, and judging by the multiple other letters peeking through the torn tape from the corner of your suitcase, it sounded like a goodbye letter.
“What’s taking so long?”
Startled, Steve shoves the letter under the pile of clothes. “Uh, my clumsy ass spilled your clothes everywhere so I’m being good and fixing everything.”
“...annoying.”
Still, you stayed inside the bathroom.
He glanced back just to make sure. And he knew he shouldn’t be snooping, the guilt was already eating away at him, but he now noticed the lump under the torn tape and another envelope poking through. 
They were all signed for different people. Bucky, Wanda, Peter, Rhodey - 
The devil on his shoulder drowned the cries of the angel. 
Opening his, he prays for his quick reading skills to aid him before you realized what he was doing.       
Steve, 
     Believe when I say that I thought I would put a bullet in my father before he could. Whoops…
I don’t really know why I’m writing these letters besides the thrill of morbidity for my untimely death or because I’m an amateur writer on the side. I never know what to say to you, anyway. Whether it’s in person or on paper. I’ve got a hundred drawn-up speeches in my head I almost say to you. But they don’t come out when I want them to and it seems a bit much to write out the words to several imaginary crumpled pieces of paper. 
This will have to do. 
Steve, I know for a fact, deep in whatever soul I have left, that you are a good man. 
When the world fell apart, I held on to you. I don’t know why. Natasha bugged me about it, sent me those signature smirks of hers whenever we did anything remotely weird. She believed something was going on between us and I would get so angry with her because it was like she saw something I couldn’t. And I wanted to see it. Wrap it up for myself and live in the softness.
You slept by my side when I would ask, you let me look through your private sketchbook to help ease my mind, and you would jump at every chance to shield me from danger. Even when you know I can take care of myself. I don't know how many times I have to remind you. 
I don’t understand why you shut me out after we brought our friends back. And at the time, it hurt like hell. I literally wanted to kill you and then myself. It made no sense, it still doesn’t. I won’t lie and say it still surprises me or that it no longer hurts. ‘Cause I’m numb to it now and the pain is more of a dull ache. 
But I guess you had your reasons, no matter how hurtful, how ridiculous, no matter how stupid. 
Fuck, why didn’t you get some of that life Tony had always wanted for you? The question eats me alive. Maybe you did move on, maybe you would miss us too much, I truly don’t know. When you confessed to wanting some form of that life when we rescued Wanda, it just confused me more.
Then my father basically declared war and you cut me out. I can’t help but think you stayed behind to help me finish this, what with that righteous streak of yours, but if it is the case, then I am so sorry. 
You deserve to live, Steve. 
Guess what I really want to close with is this: find that life you always wanted. Buy a boat, or a cabin in the secluded woods and become a lumberjack, travel, open your own art museum - hell, erase all traces of your identity and sell painted landscapes for a living. 
In any form you find it, just try. You know I’m always rooting for you, and I’m always by your side. No matter how annoying and smart-mouthed you may be. 
There’s nowhere in the world I’d rather be than here, there, and everywhere with you. 
With as much love in me, 
    The swirl of your name leaves him disoriented, and slightly paralyzed. Steve licks the envelope closed.    
     Steve puts the very existence and contents of your letter to the back of his mind for the time being. He doesn’t have time to dwell on it, no time to dissect it word for word. He’ll focus on it later. He still doesn’t know what reaction he should be experiencing. The letter was unexpected, yes, but it’s the matter of you writing a goodbye letter - as if you weren’t going to make it out of here alive. And that about saws Steve in two. 
Steve thinks the elevator comes too fast and wonders what he could do to stop time. The mics on your neck generate enough noise for you to hear the static on the other end. No one is currently online, and Steve cherishes the little moments he’s getting before having to transition into ‘Captain America’ mode. 
There wasn’t much time today to truly bask in the afterglow. The moment the elevator opens Steve literally drags you inside and captures your lips in a rather chaste kiss. It surprises you momentarily but you’re responding, and it’s fluid and familiar. The kiss is brief, but it feels as if your years mold into this single act, and Steve’s smiling wider than he has today when the first thing you say as you part is that maybe you chose the wrong shade of lipstick because it looks too damn dark on his lips.
The elevator reaches the ground floor and he looks over at you one last time in the privacy you’re afforded. He’s got that good ache in his chest again and it’s both calming and a little bittersweet, because staring at you is like staring at the sun - it hurts to look at for a long time but oh, so tempting. 
   The lawn was separated into two halves with only one fully decorated and the other still under a tarp, hidden because it was mid-construction and to not spoil the surprise. Over to the side, just left of the large lake, there was an extra tarp the workers were manning in case the clouds in the sky decided to cry. 
Jackeline had chosen violet as her main color scheme, with golden hues stitched alongside. The flowers, soft lights, marble floor, and desserts were all violet; the curtains and tarps, plates and glasses, flowers on the wall, and Jackeline’s rehearsal dress were all gold. Ernesto must have spent over a million dollars in the decorations alone. 
Everyone donned their best designers and since only family was in attendance today, the little amount of people were easily outdone one right after the other. In total, there were fifteen guests, and that included you and Steve: Ernesto, Seda, the groom’s father, Jackeline’s mother, two of your half-brothers, three aunts (sister’s of Ernesto), two cousins, the maid of honor, and Marcus White. 
They have already fawned over Steve, some with a major guard up as expected, but as Ernesto explains the specifics, everyone becomes more pleased than weary. ‘It was just too good to be true that the Avengers were all good’, someone announces. Steve grips your hand just a little tighter. 
The mere absence of Ramirez was enough of an answer: he really was going to be eliminated.
Across from your private corner, cheers and claps sound as the happy couple finally emerges. Even your father leaves mid-conversation to go greet her. 
She’s a fifties masterpiece. Her dark hair cascades in uneven but gentle layers, framing her face and she’s both glossy and matte. Her skin is darker and her eyebrows are fuller, widow’ peak and strong jaw, thin neck and perfectly rounded shoulders. She has a painted blush on her high cheekbones, dark eyeshadow and a faint cat eye, and the reddest, fullest lips that are already spitting wit as she greets her more serious guests. Her voice is high but steady and she’s so obviously the center of attention, she’s the literal bride, but you bet she could take over the room even if she wasn’t. Her fiancé, surprisingly enough, trails behind her as if he too is in a trance, greeting the same guests and attempting to match her enthusiasm. She’s making herself known, and she’s succeeding.
It isn’t until she locks her sight on you that Steve finally mumbles a quiet ‘woah’ underneath a shaky breath and you can’t blame him, dear god you can’t, because seeing her for the first time in six years is eating away at you. She’s nineteen, young and sweet, and still trapped in the world you were planning to destroy.   
Her first reaction is to run into your arms and hold you tightly, the force swinging you from side to side. Her giggles are contagious and you find yourself reacting similarly, grip tightening as she begins to ramble about how much she missed you and how proud she is that you have saved the world ten times over. The statement is overwhelming, but you find yourself nodding along in place of anything verbal.
Steve is patient as he witnesses this family reunion, standing at your side with respect and a tint of scarlet staining his cheeks. Finally, Jackeline turns to greet him and for a scary second, Steve sees Peggy.
“No way!” She keeps her voice low. “I could have sworn my bit-... uh, my bunch of tias were lying about you really being here.”
Steve shakes the fifties image from his head. The resemblance, even if Jackeline has more slanted eyes and a larger forehead, is uncanny. “Thank you so much for inviting us. The ride up was a bitch but we made the most of it.”
Jackeline stutters over her own laugh. “Oh.” She looks to you with a wide grin. “Oh, he’s a keeper.”
“Thought so myself,” you grin back. “You should hear him swear during a football game.”
“All men turn into animals when their teams don’t live up to expectations.”
Her accent is thicker than yours. Living in New York for over 10 years definitely helped smooth over some dialect and create your own voice. But Jackeline’s, considering she had never lived outside of Mexico, was thick and silky and resembled a place you no longer called home.
She pulls the man behind her forward, effectively interrupting and ending the conversation he was having with one of your cousins. “This is Julian. Julian, this is my one and only sister and her boyfriend!”
Julian, bless his heart, holds out a slightly shaking hand for you to shake. You do so, and try to convey calmness through it. When you watch his glance fall to Steve and feel his hand start to shake yours more rapidly, you can’t help but stifle a laugh.
“It’s an honor!” Julian finally says, voice deep and wracked with some nerves. He shakes Steve’s hand when he gets the chance. “Captain.”
“Please,” Jackeline rolls her eyes. “He’s just like us! You should be swooning over my sister, who is probably going to be the one to kill you if you ever hurt me.”
Julian blinks. His eyes go from Steve to you, contemplating his next move without wanting to seem rude. He nods in your direction. “I don’t doubt you would. Excuse me if I came off as rude. I’m just starstruck by this one here, is all.”
His accent matches Jackeline’s.
Steve waves his hand through the air. “You are not the first tonight, son.”
Sometimes you forget that Steve is an old man. Biologically, he’s in his mid-thirties. Ever changing and growing old as normal, but his soul is old. From a different time and out of it. The mere nickname he just gave Julian, no doubt because of his young age, leaves you averting your eyes and turning away to smile up at one of the many golden chandeliers.
“I really hope you enjoy tonight. The party may seem small right now, but trust me, half of Mexico will be dancing with us tomorrow night.” Jackeline bounces in place, hand intertwining with Julian’s, and she leans in to speak more clearly with you. “Meet me later? We have so much to catch up on.”
Agreeing, you watch the happy couple leave to converse with the few other guests.
Steve turns toward you, eyes squinted in amusement. “Is she really cheating on him with a man of the cloth?”
You can’t help the involuntary snort that leaves your nose. “The photos were watermarked, right? Time stamped? Maybe they’re old.”
Steve huffs a laugh and grabs two champagne glasses as the tray flies by him. “She’s got a way about her. Reminds me of a dame from this book I read a while back.”
Sipping your drink, you ponder. “What book?”
“The one where the dude gets shot at the end.”
“Oh, you mean every book from the 20th century?”
Steve laughs, “That twenties one!”
Mouth dropping, you push at his chest and turn to walk away. “You did not just compare her to Daisy from The Great Gatsby!”
Steve follows. “That’s the one! Honest! She has this way about her!”
    It’s not long after a few dances and photographs that you’re all seated for the actual dinner. There are three long tables, two parallel to each other and the main one perpendicular. You don’t know if it’s a power move or whatever, but your name cards are placed on one of the parallel tables. But it doesn’t bother you much since you have a front view of Seda and your father. 
Dinner is a six-course meal. Not that you assumed any different - Ernesto really went all out for his youngest child (that you know of). Your mics are picking up conversations left and right so you’re actually able to enjoy the meal. Salad, soup, a weird looking appetizer that’s actually quite delicious, the main course of either chicken/fish/or steak, and two desserts. All throughout, Steve is actually having the time of his life being fed so well. 
“Answer me this,” Steve leans in to whisper in your ear. “Are those hearts or paper airplanes hanging from the ceiling?”
You smiled against the ridge of your champagne glass, “You mean those clay flowers?”
“Is that what they are?” He pauses for a long second, squinting.
“Are your eyes going bad?” 
“Eyes don’t go bad.”
Your mouth falls open. “Your eyes are going bad!”
“Again,” Steve holds up a finger. “My eyes are just fine, not bad.”
Something else to add to that list you had made in the morning.
“This is fucking fantastic.”
Steve, still trying to casually squint, huffs. “Annoying...”
You bump his shoulder and lean in to whisper quietly. “Turns you on.”
Steve just blushes.
    It’s like he forgets where he is for a second, what with the great food and surprisingly good conversation with one of your brothers beside him. Steve’s already built a much stronger rapport with the thirty-something year old man than you have. There’s a stab of guilt for a second, a need to duck and drown in shame, when you realize you can’t even remember his name.
Ernesto stands to announce toasts. His is brief and not all that fatherly, but it’s the longest you’ve heard him string some nice words together. Seda follows, brief as well, and includes a childhood anecdote about her. Jackeline’s mother is a young woman, somewhere between forty and fifty, and her toast is only a sentence long - ‘Solo quiero que estas contenta, mi amor.’ For the first time tonight, Bucky voices his thoughts over the mic with a quiet and sad sounding hum.
Ernesto lifts himself from his chair, swatting away his men who go to help him. He has the microphone again and he’s walking toward you, face neutral. You know better than to refuse in front of this big of a crowd. Steve squeezes your hand before you stand and he remains beaming up at you from his seat. 
You’ve seen it in the movies - raise the glass, say some words, end it nicely. It’s what you do. But it feels surreal, almost unnerving when you don’t recognize the faces looking back at you. 
     “Here’s to you,” you lift your champagne glass, looking around at the happy yet solemn faces at the small table. 
“You deserve all the happiness available to you. You are so lucky to have each other,” you finish the toast and drink your whole glass. There is no applause, just sad smiles in response. You’re not asking for much, you never had.
Tony and Pepper share a quick kiss, thanking everyone around the table quickly as the two cakes are being cut. Their wedding was limited, with only a few people in attendance. Whoever was left. Tony’s cabin could obviously accommodate more people, but he had only requested the gathering of those he could stomach to see. But when that turned out to only be Pepper and Happy, he was forced to open the doors to more. 
So, you accepted your chocolate cake from Rhodey as he handed it to you. Shared some quick chit-chat with Steve and Natasha; greeted Thor as he made his first appearance in a while, hair now longer and baggy clothes hanging from his body, a tortured smile on his aging face; and sat through Happy’s own speech, enjoying his refreshing and joyful attitude. 
But now you stood in front of the kitchen sink, staring at the hidden picture frame behind the mugs - a reminder of what was really missing from this special day. 
You studied Peter’s awkward smile and demeanor, his expression youthful and frozen in time. He became foggy, silver clouds blotting his cheeks and his hair went white, and soon the sink sounded with a tiny ‘clunk!’ as you wept silently. 
You felt a hand slide into your own, squeezing with care and understanding. You looked up to see Steve, his eyes watching your face. He gave you one more gentle squeeze, the same tortured smile as Thor’s on his beautiful face, and walked to his room to retire for the night. 
     Glass raised in the air, you swallow in hopes of not choking over any word because of your nerves. 
“Here’s to you,” you start, already deciding this was going to be like pulling a band-aid. “May this world treat you kind, and that you are kind to each other, and that it’s all that matters.”
Steve forgets to drink. He can’t seem to shake the feeling of wanting to cry.
     Everyone watches as Steve leads you onto the dance floor which is intimidating with its glittering violet light and marble that resembles polished glass. If these were the decorations for the rehearsal dinner, Steve can’t even begin to bet on how tomorrow’s going to look. 
Steve holds you close, one arm wrapped around your waist and the other framing your spine. It’s like a tight hug. “Do you enjoy dancing?”
You step on his foot once again. “Shut up, Steve. Tell me your real thoughts.”
“Who, me?”
“Steve.”
“You suck at dancing.”
“There it is.”
     It isn’t hard to sneak away once everyone piles onto the dance floor. Steve shares a few dances with your aunts before excusing himself to use the bathroom. 
The mission itself goes rather smoothly. Infiltrating and collecting information was childsplay. Amateur. You’ve done it a thousand times and your father isn’t exactly a tech wizard. Neither is Seda. 
You find the electronic bank records Scott couldn’t yesterday, as well as a detailed spreadsheet (more like a hitlist) dating ten years back. In the same file, this actually only slightly encrypted (slightly), are the names of high-level players involved. It’s color-coded, some names familiar because of their involvement with Hydra, and it’s only a matter of seconds before you notice that red means eliminated, black means still at large, and blue means ally. 
There’s a lump in your throat as you scroll through and find Steve’s name, thankfully in blue. It’s expected, so you simply move on, until you find yours. And it’s in black. 
It should terrify you, have you running for the hills and tucking your tail between your legs but you’re won’t because Steve’s name is blue. 
That’s all that matters. 
There’s still no concrete information about the shipment, nothing online or on a loose post-it note. It’s non-existent and that’s suspicious and you don’t know why you don’t voice that to Steve. He’s listening at the door and responding to Sam’s questions. You and Scott are the hackers of the group after all. 
You scan through drawers and cabinets, snapping photos of things you can’t take just yet and filing the papers you can. Papers detailing contracts and miscellaneous connections: lawyers, doctors, politicians, police. Once that’s done, you shrink the evidence to the size of a fingernail with the help of Scott’s tech and hide it in your bra. 
Surprisingly enough, the two of you are able to slip out of the office and the first couple living rooms undetected. Until Jackeline herself appears, pulling down her dress as she exits the bathroom. Steve, stunned by the presence of anyone, pulls you toward his chest with unfocused strength. You hiss loudly and naturally go to cup your injured elbow. It takes a moment for Steve to realize what he’s done and who he’s done it to. 
Jackeline nearly stumbles over her heels out of pure clumsiness but her mouth parts as she notices you and the harsh sound you make. If she truly saw or heard anything, she’s keeping it to herself it seems. 
“Ernesto wanted to see me before we called it a night,” Steve says, letting go of your arm and taking a step back. He doesn’t outright say he’s sorry; he doesn’t know if he’s allowed to. So he braves a smile, sends you a look, and excuses himself. 
No conversation ever comes naturally - or, rather they take at least minimal effort from either party. You say the first thing you can think of and that’s to congratulate her again. 
Your rambling sort of sounds like the toast you gave earlier, but Jackeline either doesn’t want to embarrass you or simply doesn’t notice. She waits for the pause in your voice before she finally speaks.
“Before I start, don’t hate me for this.”
“That’s not a good way to start a sente-” Your face is smacked to the side absurdly hard and you can feel the sting at the base of your neck. You look back at your sister with wide eyes.
“You couldn’t leave the world dead? He was finally dead!”
Baffled, you rub at your sore cheek. “Why am I the one getting the most blame for that? I followed a fucking raccoon around and I didn’t even snap my fingers!”
“Sorry,” she blinks, eyebrows scrunching as she thinks of the next thing to say. ��Sorry, I just… it was that easy to kill him and then he just… wasn’t.”
“I don’t know if you noticed, but you were also dead.”
“I was.”
“And we brought back trillions.”
“I know.”
Never once did you wonder what your siblings might have thought. More than half of them were separated from this life, while a few remained and conquered their allowed sectors. Ernesto had never discussed which of his children would take over his seat. But when he was dusted and Seda assumed power, it was clear not one sibling wanted anything to do with it. Or they were just too scared to outright disobey Seda and his tyranny.
Jackeline stands tall, shoulders straight and chin held high. She didn’t seem to worry about the repercussions of her actions - she knows who you are and what you are capable of. The smack seemed deliberate but restrained.
“So?” It’s the only word you can muster up.
“Please don’t judge me.” Her confidence falters and her eyebrows push down even further. “I know you know.”
“You gotta spell it out because I know a lot of things.”
Sighing deeply, she grabs the hand you’re using to rub at your cheek. She grips it tightly as she speaks. “I love him. But he’s impossible to love now and I can’t do anything about it.”
“Oh, Jackeline…”
You could have contacted her. You were on social media - you could have followed her, maybe messaged her annually - hell, called her once in a while to simply check in. The ticket you got was always a temporary one: go to school and find a way to make the trade routes easier to travel. School finished, you found Fury, and you created an alternate identity and background plan to trick your family into doing just what they ordered. And during all that time, Jackeline was barely in her pre-teens, probably scared and alone and missing her only sister. This was just you throwing that smack out of proportion but there was truth in it all. Wasn’t there?
“Julian’s okay. I agreed to this arranged marriage. I’m sure I can grow to love him,” she shrugs, biting her lip as it begins to quiver.
Her eyes are no longer happy - perhaps that was the wrong word to use after she had just confided in you about the reality of her upcoming union. But they definitely seem more dull in comparison to the joyfulness she presented earlier tonight.
“Jackeline, you don’t have to-”
“No, I was gone those five years. He had to move on.” You drop your shoulders and lean forward to give her a hug. No matter how badly you wanted to wrap your hands around Ernesto’s neck, they had more use tenderly wrapped around your sister. 
Relishing the feeling for only a moment longer, Jackeline is ignited once again. “Besides, I should be telling you that! I saw the way that… that fascist pulled you. If he’s hurting you, I’ll kill him.”
Your eyes must be bulging out of your head. “Oh.” 
She looks at you as if you’re going to admit abuse and confide in her like she did you. “No, it’s okay. Steve’s perfect, he’s… wonderful.”
Jackeline shakes her head rapidly, “Don’t you lie to me. I know what I saw.”
“I’m not lying. But you gotta trust me. I’ll explain later-”
“Explain what?”
Seda breaks the conversation and you forget to curse inwardly. Instead, a mumbled ‘fuck’ is heard. It only serves to fuel the flame. Jackeline flashes a rehearsed smile, and she truly is your sister because for a sad moment she looks exactly like you.
“Explain why she never returned my calls to be my maid of honor! I swear, this one is always so busy she forgets I exist!”
“She is,” Seda agrees, grinning like he already knows what the original conversation was about. “Always busy.” 
Jackeline keeps the same smile and is about to continue fanning the flames when Seda interrupts again. “Jackie, your father wanted me to speak with your sister alone for a moment. It has to do with tomorrow’s shipment.”
“Yes, of course. Don’t keep her for too long, okay? Tomorrow’s a late start but we all need our beauty sleep.” Jackeline leaves and fails to look over her shoulder to double check on you.
Seda steps closer, arms swinging casually like he’s pondering the possibilities of what he could do without Steve present. But instead of focusing solely on him, you listen to the soft sound of Bucky’s voice through the mic as he tells you that he’s listening in and he’s here.
“What did she say to you?”
“Is it really any of your business?”
He snaps immediately, gripping your cheeks in one hand so you can’t move your head. “When will you learn to keep your goddamn mouth shut around me?”
“You asked.” Smacking his hand away would have been frowned upon before, but not anymore. Free reign if need be. “Besides, when will you learn that that will never happen?”
“You can’t believe anything she tells you. Ernesto’s only two daughters are mistakes, both threats to his reign. Never submissive, always asking questions-”
You grunt almost comically, “Men and their irrational fears of women… What did I ever do to you?”
He pauses and you notice how his angry eyes always seem to water from his frustration. “You brought him back.”
“I also brought back trillions.”
“You know,” his face does something unpleasant. “Before Jackeline was dusted, she had been seeing that priest.”
“How could you possibly know-”
“He was so devastated by her loss. Found God, became a changed man.”
“Seda, what are you playing at?”
“She came back.” He lifts one finger. “He couldn’t resist.” He raises another. “Didn’t take long for Ernesto to find out.” The third one is the last, and he mimics a small explosion as he concludes. “But don’t worry, we took care of him.”
You never once believed the Devil was this angry, red demon with horns atop his head and a sharp tail, voice booming as he ruled the underworld with the weapons of pain and suffering. He didn’t possess or haunt random places. If anything, the Devil himself was simply a metaphor, a representation of the evil in a living world. It only made people comfortable to create an image, no matter how ridiculous.
Once you even thought the Devil was Hades, and he wasn’t all that bad when it truly came down to the root of all problems. He oversaw the underworld but he didn’t take life, he didn’t cause the pain, he simply watched and ruled. That maybe Hades was real considering Thor was, and he was just chilling in the underworld bored out of his mind.
But the evil the Devil represented was a constant in this world already, in your life from start to finish, and Seda’s eyes held something unspeakable. Dark brown eyes almost black, left cheek twitching with the urge to smile grotesquely, the tense nature of his broad shoulders. He was no massive man, a few inches taller than you, but he was a giant in a world in which Hades lacked and the Devil persisted.
“But Julian-”
Seda scoffs, “Julian was her rebound. Got mixed up in the business, with Ernesto  - but I don’t doubt he loves Jackeline.”
You’re this close to breaking the man’s fingers. He doesn’t stop counting his supposed triumphs. “When were the pictures taken?”
“Don’t do that,” he laughs as he finally steps away from you. “Ask your real question.”
Your smile was involuntary. So was Seda’s. It was the one thing you had in common: smiling at things that weren’t funny. “Did you threaten him? Torture him? Kill him yet?”
“... Jackeline will never know.”
Your mouth parts slowly like you’re still digesting his words. “You unimaginable bastard.”
If you had to bet, you would have placed all your money on Ernesto being the giant to fear. He had hurt you in countless ways, used you and discarded what he didn’t like, put you in the line of fire for his own gain. He had taken pleasure in knowing you hurt, in knowing what you had lost and suffered. He mocked your sacrifice time and time again. And there was a sentence you had never uttered out loud for fear of what you might do, or what anyone hearing you might do, that Ernesto had said one chilly November night only a year after the world returned. It was a thought so suppressed you almost always forgot it had been real. ‘A shame the Widow did what she did - what an unbelievable asset wasted over something pointless.’
No one outside your circle could possibly understand. They didn’t have to - but to dismiss the main reason he was retaking his tainted throne... insanity. 
But something in Seda’s voice moved even the most dormant areas in your soul. The giant was a man with nothing and everything to lose but with the power to choose which. Staring at him for too long prompted an uncomfortable sting across your waterline like his glare burned. Such a normal looking man with short dark hair and an aging face. He stared at you with a set look, one that told you he knew something you didn’t. Like he controlled giants even bigger than him. He wasn’t Hades, who restrained himself and hid in the shadows of a world he was forced to rule - he was the Devil’s metaphor, with red strains licking his tan skin and eyes sharp enough to puncture.
With a small tilt of his head and a strangled grin, he finally turns to leave. “Have a safe drive home.”
     After saying a quick goodbye to Jackeline and securing the estate, you hurried to get to your car and leave. Ernesto had just sent you a quick nod of the head and reminded Steve he needed to see him again before the wedding started. All your leftover energy literally went into pulling open the passenger door. 
Out of instinct now, you wait until the car is past the gates and a good mile from the hidden entrance before speaking freely.
“We get everything?”
The night is dark and you can barely see the outline of the trees. The sky is covered with gray clouds and there are no lampposts to provide light. It’s really just your headlights. “I think so. I think.”
Steve can sense the hesitancy in your answer. “What’s wrong?”
You shake with an exaggerated shiver, “Seda was being creepy… just more than usual.”
“What do you mean?” Steve was probably communicating and online with Sam during his conversation with Ernesto and completely missed the one you had with Seda.
“Fuckin’ didn’t think it could get weirder, but Jackeline mentioned how this was basically an arranged marriage and then Seda,” you stop suddenly. The uneasiness was creeping back. 
“An arranged marriage? Fuck, what else is this mission going to throw at us?”
‘Captain?’
Steve’s hands accidentally swerve the steering wheel as response to the small fright. “... Was that your phone or mine?”
You fumbled through your mini purse for your phone. “Me. Hey? Friday?”
‘The one and only. I hope that didn’t frighten you because I really need your attention right about now.’
Steve chuckles, eyes straight ahead as he drives. “That doesn’t sound ominous at all.”
‘My readings are picking up something strange. The vehicle, even if I’m not able to virtually connect, seems to be stalling.’ Torres did curse you two before you left for renting a car made before 2013.
“What do you mean? It’s working just fine.” 
You set your phone down on the dash to start looking around the interior of the car.
‘The pedal, yes Captain. But I’m afraid my readings are focused on the brakes.’
You bite your tongue and scrunch up your nose. What else could possibly happen tonight? “That’s always fun to hear, great. Greaaaat.”
“Friday, what are you picking up?” Steve’s voice is more stern and even if he’s not doing it on purpose, he’s trying to ignore your coping mechanism of joking during dire situations.
‘It seems that when they took the vehicle for parking, they attached something to the brake lines. Sort of like a trigger sensor. Do not slow down.’
“We’re stuck? We can’t stop?”
‘Everytime the Captain de-accelerates, the sensor heats up. That’s what my readings are.’
“Fuck,” you unclipped your seatbelt and turned your body toward Steve. “Fuck!”
“Friday, what do we do?” The least Steve could do is be the level-headed one here.
‘Exactly what you’re thinking, Captain. The shield’s in the trunk.’
“We can’t exactly get to it!” You don’t mean to scream at Friday. You’re sure she’s used to adrenaline induced attacks guided toward her and never about her.
‘The burners were produced by Stark Industries for our very own spy unit. They are equipped with a taser, flashlight, and laser.’
Jumping so your feet were planted firmly on the passenger seat, you make sure everything is in place: the stolen files, your gun, your phone, and earpiece. “Keep your foot on that pedal, Rogers. I don’t feel like blowing up tonight.”
He releases a shaky breath, hands turning pale from the grip he has on the steering wheel. “You and me both.”
“Friday?” Your voice is only slightly timid, but you manage to move your body out from the front seats and to the back.
‘The laser, Agent Y/LN. Cut through the seats.’
Nodding along to her instructions, you search for the burner under your skirt and unstrap it from the holster. Pulling its ancient antenna outward, Friday verbally guides you through the very simple instruction. The laser blasts out unexpectedly at first making you squeal, which in turn causes Friday (a literal AI) to chuckle. You’re thankful the antenna was facing the back seats already.
“Doing good back there?”
You respond with a low grunt as you carefully carve out the largest rectangle you can create. “You better have shoved the thing close. Any stop signs up ahead?”
Steve’s getting worried now, but instead of putting you more on edge, he hides it pretty well. “Thank god this place is in the middle of nowhere.”
You don’t even give his response acknowledgement as you finally pull the leather, metal, and weird cushion filling away and spot the shield. “I got it, got it, got it.”
‘My sensors suggest you’ll have a good five seconds to escape the vehicle once the Captain releases the pedal.’
You make sure your hair is in the tightest ponytail known to man and that your skirt is bunched up in your free arm. You strap the shield onto the other. “Steve, you gonna be alright?”
His eyes are still focused on the road, but he braves a look in the mirror back at you. His voice is stern but not demanding. “I know you hate the damn shield but bend your legs, jump sideways, and tuck your head.”
“Yeah,” you nod along. Damn straight you’ll put your hate aside for one second if it’s here to save your life. “You better jump on time, you understand me?”
“Sam,” Steve keeps the speed steady and tries to ignore the way his heart is pounding from the sound of you kicking open the back door. “Sam, Widow. Widow.”
Before you jump, the asphalt a never ending, rapid glare of absolute darkness, you leave your phone on the seat in case Steve still needs her. “Friday, send Sam and Torres our location. They’re the only ones who can fly in undetected. Tell them what you told us.”
‘Will do, Agent Y/LN.’
“Be careful.”
You smirk at him, “Don’t be a hero and crash this one into the ice, yeah?”
You don’t wait for his reaction and instead take the plunge. The shield makes a hard impact with the asphalt down below, screeching for what seems like an eternity before slowing down. You did as instructed: knees tucked into your chest as far as you were able, head doing the same. By the time the ride finally ends and you’ve gone partially deaf, you can make out the sound of a loud explosion a close distance away. The heat from the sudden burst of wind nips at your face. You’ve also gone partially blind. 
Your poor boots are definitely ruined and there’s a faint tell of a bruised ankle in the works. The arm attached to the shield will also need to be popped back into place - it shouldn’t feel this loose. Luckily, your head and torso were completely unscathed. 
Lifting yourself up the best you could without straining anything too much, you noticed the car still in flames but driven off the road. 
“He jumped, he jumped, he jumped,” you repeat, limping as quickly as you could, shield still attached to your arm. The closer you get the clearer everything becomes, regardless of the smoke. “Steve.”
You squint through the orange light and the dark of night. The fire wasn’t all that loud in its crackles and it doesn’t take you long to realize while tapping your ears that you lost your earpiece. 
“Steve,” you try again, adrenaline still pumping but panic seeping in. As if on cue, you can make out his body laying far away from the car relatively unharmed. “Ah, shit.” You drop down on your knees and wince involuntarily. Slapping his cheeks doesn’t wake him up, neither does gently shaking him. You don’t want to do anything to hurt him more. 
The sound of gravel popping kicks you back into spy mode. Hide. This was a hit, of course it was, and they were coming to see their job done. 
“You so owe me,” you groan as you unstrap the shield to throw it into the woods, the faint tell of it hitting a tree enough to make you work faster. You hook your arms underneath Steve’s armpits and bend your knees, breathing in deeply and out a few times before pulling him with all your strength. There’s pain shooting up your arm but you try to ignore it. Small whimpers escape you as you pull harder and finally make it a good distance from the wreckage. You sit Steve, still unconscious, behind one of those massive pine trees and sit next to him after retrieving the shield. 
It’s only two black SUV’s that come to check their hard work. They’re bending down and using their own fire extinguishers, snapping their own photos, the works. It isn’t until Seda walks over to admire the wreckage that you have to bite your bottom lip to keep from screaming. 
You’re seated in front of Steve now with the shield in front of you when a sudden movement to your left startles you. Before you scream, however, a hand covers your mouth. 
“Shh, shh.” Sam. Your eyes fill with tears. 
“I’ve got him. Torres is coming for you, alright? I’m the only one who can carry him out.”
It doesn’t take much to convince you. You’re silently helping Sam strap Steve against his chest as Seda and his men are now investigating the woods. You can hear them close, cursing and yelling about finding you. 
“Go a little further. Down there,” Sam points in front of you. “Torres is parked and waiting. Go.”
“Don’t drop him.” Sam stifles his laugh. 
You follow his directions, limping as quickly as you can, and finally find Torres, your second knight in shining armor of the night. 
    After an all clear from the medical team, Steve is left alone in your hotel room to rest. He still hasn’t woken up but Helen isn’t worried since his scans show no major damage. Small talk with the rest of the team fills in the time but it’s like you’re not really there, merely a participant on a loop. There’s a bitter taste in your mouth and you’re covered in scratches and smoky ash and you can’t shake the feeling of wanting to kill something. 
Your father wanted you dead. And showing up to the wedding was just going to anger him more but it had to be done. But you were tired, so fucking tired, tired to the point where you couldn’t sleep or rest.
You let your hair down but stay in your tattered clothing, making yourself useful as best you can. You answer questions, you review footage, you draft up some reports. Bucky tries to sit you down at one point, but he backs off when you simply shake your head and give him that famous broken smile. 
You’re sitting at your desk trying to save some of your phone’s cloud through the connected email. Sam has already ordered you a new phone. On the computer to your left, you’re scanning and uploading the files you stole tonight. On the right, your little butterfly is transcribing conversations from yesterday. 
The transcription is finished before the uploads. It prints. 
SEDA: ‘Ernesto needs to know how many more women we can get from Jonathon. I thought you said your Italian contact was up to date?’
UNKNOWN: ‘He is. But the women are coming from here instead. Got a load of ten just now.’
SEDA: ‘The shipment goes out during the wedding. Not before, not after. We can’t fuck this up for Ernesto and we cannot have the stars and stripes finding out.’
UNKNOWN: ‘Ernesto plans to mention it to him tomorrow.’
SEDA: ‘Then make sure he keeps quiet about it.’
The bitter taste in your mouth returns and you have to run to the nearest bathroom.
     Steve wakes just an hour after, disoriented but able to discern who he is. “What happened?”
You’re standing at the foot of his bed, having just got there a few minutes before, practically on the verge of tears. “... Did you know?”
There it was. Any hope of truly coming to terms with this new world order or his role in it, any hope of feeling like he did before he succumbed to the American war propaganda and became a science experiment, crumbling before him. The heavy weight that were your shoulders, crumbling like shaky mountains. His own, tense and straining and urging him to get out of bed. 
He’s been in the trenches when the smell of gas and blood clogged his nostrils and made him dizzy. He’s experienced loss a thousand times over, just heinous instances of despair where he swore he was torn in two. He’s lost on his own accord and pretended like the world was still on its axis. 
And he knew his time was up. He just thought he’d have more than a day to enjoy it.  “I was going to tell you.”
It’s like the air is punched out of you. “You knew?”
“Please, listen, please,” he scrambles out of bed.
“What the fuck, Rogers?”
“Ramirez told us yesterday. I swear I only found out yesterday. Yesterday.”
“Yesterday?” You’re stepping away from him. He’s almost on his hands and knees and you’re stepping away from him. “Before?”
Steve makes a pained noise. “Yes, but please-”
“No! You kept this to yourself and you had the fucking audacity to share the same bed as me?”
“Please, let me explain-” He tries to reach out but you side-step him. He reacts like you’ve shot him.
“Don’t touch me, Steve!”
“Please, just let me explain. We all know - Bucky, Sam, Torres, we all know.”
Your face does something he’s never seen it do. “Fuck?”
He’s talking faster now, words just spilling on the floor and into the air and he doesn’t know what else to do. “We’re tracking it. We have a plan set. We were supposed to tell you tomorrow before the wedding.” He stops to take in a breath. “I was going to tell you.”
“You went behind my back.”
“If I would have told you, you would have done something horrible tonight! We need your father alive to find those people!”
Eyes wide in shock and anguish, you step further away from him. Each step was the equivalent of a dagger plunging deep into Steve’s heart, twisting and burning its way to the depths of his vulnerability. He wanted to succumb to the pain - after all, he deserved it.
“That would have been my choice to make!”
Now he pushed forward, shoulders hunched and palms turned upward as if he was pleading for a crumb of understanding. “I was gonna kill him.”
He drops to his knees, arms wrapping around your waist. You remained perfectly still, a tree stump with no cover. “I was gonna shoot him between the eyes when I first found out. But if I had done that, then we would never know the location of those people.”
His weight was pulling you down and you felt his wet cheek against your stomach. “I deserved to know.”
His grip tightened, “You did. But if you would have known-”
“I would have known. Period.”
He had to know how much he weighed. But Steve leaned his body onto yours harder, afraid you would vanish and god forbid turn to dust. It didn’t really register in his mind that, even though he was holding you in place, you weren’t exactly trying to escape his hold either. 
He had let you go once and he’ll be goddamned if he let you go again. 
“It ate me alive. I hated doing this-”
You pushed against his shoulders and sensed his reluctance to let go. Instead, you look down at him and tense your jaw. “Steve, you don’t hate me, do you?”
His face dropped and his grip loosened. You should just slap him across the face, Steve thinks, because how in the world were you thinking that at this moment? Never did he think you would find a way to twist this - to somehow blame yourself for his mistake. Took a long time to see it, but you were just as righteous as he was. It would get you both killed someday. 
“Why do you think that? What in the world would make you think that after all this time? After everything?”
He lets you push him away so he could stand but he makes sure to keep his hands on you. A tangible promise that you are real. 
“You agreed to help me catch a drug lord. You didn’t sign up for this extra mess.”
“We may not always know what we’re up against,” Steve began, sniffing and wiping at his wet face. God, he felt like such a mess. “But I could never fucking hate you. Don’t even think that.”
“You sure?” your voice cracks, hands slightly shaking from the need to touch him too. “Captain America didn’t sign up for this.”
He shakes his head almost violently, “No, no. Don’t go there. I am not him, I haven’t been him in a long time.”
“Steve-”
“No! I’ve hated the title for a while now. I’m done. I’ve hated my reflection for years and years.” The tiny whine in the middle of your throat gurgled and your hands moved instantly to cup his cheeks.  “I represent no one but myself. I’m tired of others thinking I’m the same man from ten years ago, or the same man from the forties, or the same man from last week just because they’re enamored by that star on my chest.”
He tilts his head to lean into your touch, “I am helping you because it’s the honorable thing to do. I signed up for this work, I intend to finish it. Not Captain America, but me - Steve, me.”
“You’re still making me feel like it’s something you have to do.”
“I admit that I was never overly fond of the idea of being wrapped up in this,” Steve admits, hands now cupping yours over his cheeks. “But toppling this empire will keep you safe.”
As heartwarming as that sounded, you broke the fantasy. “The minute we take the giants out, they’ll elect someone new.”
“But we take the giants out. The giants that hurt you.”
He’s right, like always. 
“Steve,” you say quietly, bringing his face closer to kiss away his tears. You’re struggling to keep the tippy-toes and your ankle is screaming for a break, but you persist. “You should have told me.”
“I know.”
“No more secrets.”
“None, I swear, I promise.”
Biting your lip to keep from crying, you make sure his eyes are locked on yours before you speak. “I’m not walking away this time. I’m not leaving you. Not again.”
Steve’s mouth releases a big burst of air like he was holding it in, and he wraps you in a hug that promises the same.
~
TAGLIST: @dumb-ass-writer @justab-eautifulmess​ @supraveng @mycosmicparadise @missnighttigress​
A/N: Wooooo that took forever lol xxMoni
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lonely-teddy-bear · 3 years
Text
The Alpha’s Weak Mate h.s au (ch.5)
A/n: Tbh im proud of this chapter ngl. Hope you enjoy and go support it in wattpad as well! it would mean a lot to me :)
word count: 3k
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Chapter Five
I woke up to the sound of the blinds being opened, feeling the bright light coming into the room. I turned around to hide my face from the sun and buried my face in my pillow, "oh my gosh Kyle close the blinds!" I whined out.
I didn't hear a complain come from Kyle which was weird considering how much he talks. I opened my eyes again and turned around to look why Kyle wasn't talking, I squinted from the bright light hitting my face and saw a shadow but it wasn't Kyle's because this one was short.
"Sorry but my name is Mia not Kyle." I sat up, startled. I had forgotten where I was and what happened last night. Wait didn't I lock the door?
"Sorry but how did you get in? I had the door locked." She walked to where she would stand in front of the bed.
"I have a key, every maid and butler has a key to this house," I just stared at her, did that mean Harry also had a key?
"Does Harry have a key as well?" She didn't say anything but nodded but that was all I needed to know, he could have walked in into his room without me knowing but I don't think he did.
"Do you need anything else?" I let her know I was fine and before she left she let me know that breakfast will be brought up soon.
After she left I stretched as much as I could before getting out of bed and heading towards the bathroom to freshen up before I came face to face with another person. Entering into the giant room I went to do my business before going over to wash my face and mouth. After brushing my mouth I looked at myself and saw how tired I was. It might have to do with the fact that I woke up sometimes at night from a nightmare and then proceeded to cry because I didn't have Kyle to hold me while he rocked me back and forth in order to calm me.
After my parents past away in the rogue attack I had started to have nightmares and Kyle had been the one to be there for me ever since, also along with having anxiety attack after the nightmares it was nice to have someone I cared about there for me. Except last night when I didn't have Kyle, not even Harry at least, I just wish I had someone there with me last night to tell me that I was going to be okay. I swear I had the longest anxiety last night, it felt like the on I first got when I got notified about my parents, about them being killed, Kyle was there to help but he didn't what to do back then, not like now.
After finishing up with my morning routine I went over to the closet that was in the bathroom, next to Harry's. Well it was in the same closet considering how big his closet was.
I might have taken the rest of the closet but where else would I put my clothes? Besides, he wouldn't mind I'm sure, I am after all his mate as much as I hate to admit it.
I didn't bother getting all dressed up, I had grabbed some pair of sweatpants and a red crop top that I use when I don't plan to go out. After changing I went over to the sink and grabbed the bag that held my makeup and pulled out the concealer. I made myself look less dead and less hideous with adding some eyeliner and mascara and then ven some contour so I didn't look too dead after the concealer. Sometimes I wished my skin was more clear but of course one can't have everything.
I headed out to the room, ignoring my hair as I didn't care as much for it and saw that there was a tray with breakfast on it. I heated over to the bed and sat down and saw that there was a paper next to the plate.
We're going out for lunch. Come to my office by 2. Don't be late. -H
Lovely.
Was this his way to make me feel better or was he going. to try and torture me?
Either way I can't ignore him for long since he is the alpha and my mate, he will eventually come for me and make me do something.
After finishing breakfast time somehow went by fast. With not doing anything and reading some random book Harry had laying around that had notes and a bookmark. Can't imagine him writing notes on some book, let alone reading one.
I didn't bother changing before going down to his office earlier than I was told. I just hope it doesn't bother him that I'm going earlier.
After a couple of minutes of walking I managed to get down to the main floor. I was out of breath from all the stairs and why the hell why his room so far away? I'll probably be using that as my work out because there is no way in hell that I will go work out with others if I get told to.
I looked around when I got to the main floor but I didn't see any other doors unless I have to walk into the other halls that are on the sides.
The maid that was walking past must have seen me looking confused asked if I needed help.
"Yes Har- I mean the alpha wanted me to meet him in his office but I don't know where it is..." she caught on to what my question was and directed me to follow her. "He is currently with his beta, if you would like to wait for a couple of minutes until he calls you in."
I nodded at her and thanked her before she left and went on to do what ever she was going to do.
I leaned myself on the wall that was across from the door of his office and waited. I didn't know what time it was but I had left with ten minutes to spare and I hope that with the long walk and me being lost for a minute didn't make me lose time. I really which I had my watch with me but I guess Kyle kept it because it was no where to be found in my belongings.
I was just staring at the door waiting for it to open up which it did but a girl came out looking flushed. I saw Harry looking a little pissed off but I couldn't help but to keep looking at the girl that came out of his office. Didn't the maid say that he was talking to the beta? Unless she was the beta but last time I heard no woman could be in power unless t was the luna or the wife of the beta...
"You're late Dominique," I jumped away from the wall and looked away from the girl which was now gone and looked to the opening in front of me to see Harry leaning on his desk, staring at me. He didn't look to happy.
I walked in towards his office and closed the door behind me. I was scared to look Harry in the eyes, something about him made me feel nervous and scared but I shouldn't because he is the one that I'm going to spend the rest of my life with.
"Sorry I didn't mean to be late. I got lost and your maid said you were with the beta..." I wanted to ask him if the girl was the beta but I just hope he would catch on and give me the answer without me asking.
"I was with my beta, you saw her walk out. Surprised?" I looked up at him and saw he had an amused look on his face. He looked cocky as if he knew that I wanted to know about who the mysterious girl was.
I couldn't help but to gulp and take a deep breath before answering him. Gosh he made me nervous, was it hot in here or was I just sweating from nervousness?
"I didn't think woman were able to have a title unless it was the luna or the wife of someone with a title." I looked away from him but then looked back at him again and saw him looking down at my hands, which I was messing with my nails with, might have to get a manicure after this.
"Do I make you nervous?"
Yes.
"No. Why would you think that?" Why was I acting all dumb? He obviously knows that I was nervous just by the way I was playing with my fingers and messing around with my nails.
"I could hear your heart raise the closer you got and you have been playing with your finger since arriving here. And to your respond to having woman in power? I don't discriminate or follow other people's rules, she is the daughter of the Beta and so she is the rightful owner of the position. That won't be a problem right?" I quickly shook my head.
"No I don't I was just wondering, I don't mind it for a woman to have a title, I think it's cool and encouraging." He stared at me, moving his head to the side to look at me better, he then smirked.
"We're you jealous?"
What? Wait did he really think I was jealous? What made him think I was jealous?
"No... why would you think that?"
He shrugged at me, his smirk being gone.
"I mean you were told I was with the beta and you expected a male to leave my office but instead a woman left my office... and you questioned it without having to ask me. That made me think you were jealous which I don't mind really, because if it was the other way around I would have probably killed him."
I was speechless. I wouldn't say I didn't believe him because I did, just by looking at him I could tell he was serious. I couldn't help but to look away and look down to where I was still messing with my nails, now having skin pulled off.
I saw him from the top of my eyes that he moved away from his desk and saw his black shoes right in front of mine. I felt his folded pointer finger under my chin, making me look up at him. I couldn't help but to notice how green his eyes were. I must have not paid much attention to them since I have been scared to even look his way.
"Next time don't walk away from me and lock the door on me, got it?" I didn't know how to respond and without me thinking I said the one thing that would get me killed anywhere.
"And if I do it again?" I raised my eyebrow at him but quickly slapped my hand over my mouth and looked at him with wide eyes, in shock.
I saw him raise his right eyebrow and I swear his green eyes got darker. That wasn't a good sign. Maybe I shouldn't have said anything, maybe I should have thought first but I can't seem to do that around him.
"Oh princess you don't want to do it again, unless you want to be punished," he looked at me with his dark eyes and his smirk that was giving me bad vibes.
He raised his right hand and placed it on my cheek and slowly moved it over to my ear where he would rank his fingers through my messy hair. He held his hand in place and leaned forward towards my other ear where his hand wasn't in place.
"You should do your hair next time, unless you want me to mess it up more for you," I shivered at the air that hit my ear when he whispered. I felt his lips turn into a smirk but felt him move away to look back at my eyes again.
"So what do we say about going for lunch?"
************
We went out to the town, to the one where I used to go to for work. I didn't know if I was going to see anyone from my pack, let alone Kyle. I wouldn't have mind it if I saw Kyle but if Harry saw him and saw me looking at him, he would be dead. I just wished he could understand but I knew better than that.
We ended up going to this diner that gave off the fifty century, the silver, the red and the white around. We sat on a booth and ordered. I went with a chocolate with banana milkshake and a burger with fries since this place was well know for the burgers. Harry ordered the same but with a strawberry milkshake which surprised me and I think he saw it on my face.
"What?" I couldn't help but to let out a giggle. A giggle? Who am I now?
"Nothing I wasn't expecting you to get a strawberry milkshake," I shrugged and looked out the window. I felt his stare on my right side of my face. I wanted to turn and look at him but stopped myself from doing so.
"What did you think I was going to get? Vanilla milkshake?" I looked back at him and shrugged and nodded. He chuckled, shaking his head and slightly closing his eyes in disbelief.
"Honey, I'm no fan of vanilla," he smirked at me and leaned over the table, crossing his arms on the table. He was looking at me  strangely, there was this teasing look combined with lust in them.
My eyes suddenly widened at the realization of his double meaning. I couldn't help but to look at him in shock and look away from him.
I couldn't believe he said that in a way that it sounded normal. I may have been slow to understand it but I felt my face get hot the minute I figured it out. "Why are you blushing? I just said I didn't like vanilla." I looked at him and saw how he was still smirking at me. He had this cocky look him face, in that handsome face of his. I shook my head lightly trying to not think of him any way.
"I know there's a double meaning to it," I mumbled but didn't look away from him. Something about looking at him in the eyes while he was on that position made me want to look at him more. He was just addicting to look at.
"Mhm is that so?" He cocked his head to his right, his smile getting wider.
The waiter came by to leave us our milkshake and let us know that our food would be out in a couple of minutes. I looked away from looking at Harry to look at the waitress to thank her but looked back to Harry once she was gone. He was still looking at me but he was drinking from his milkshake. I looked down at my milkshake shyly looking away from him.
The cherry on top of the drink caught my attention. I grabbed it and put it in my mouth without thinking anything of it. I moaned lightly enjoying the flavor of the cherry in my mouth. It had been a while since I had a cherry, let alone a milkshake.
I felt a kick under the table causing me to look up at Harry. He has holding out a cherry, holding the stem with his thumb and pointer finger and wiggled it a bit.
"Want it pup?" I blushed at the nickname. I hated it so much but it seemed like he was t going to stop calling me that even if I kept telling him too.
I went to grab the cherry thinking how nice it was of him to offer his cherry but he pulled it back slightly, shaking. his head.
"Nope, you come here and take it from me. With your mouth." I looked at him wide eyed. He can't be serious right? He couldn't be.
I looked around the diner but looked back at Harry when he spoke.
"No one is going to look. Now come one get the cherry. I mean, you do want it, right?"
Did I really like cherry's that much that I would do something like this to get it?
I let out a sigh and looked at the cherry and then at him. He raised at eyebrow in a quick motion and then signaled me to get the cherry. I got up slightly and leaned over on the table and went to grab the cherry.
I saw Harry lean forward to were my ear was. "look at me when you get the cherry." My eyes couldn't get any wider but my body heat could. He had moved back to his place and looked at me with a smirk. That stupid smirk is getting annoying by now. I leaned up to the cherry and didn't look away from his eyes. I felt the cherry hit my lips, I grabbed the cherry with teeth making sure it was all in before i closed my lips around it. I then pulled on the cherry causing it to rip off from the stem.
I quickly sat back down and looked down at my milkshake chewing on the cherry ignoring the heat on my face.
"Aren't you an innocent pup? But you were right. I don't like vanilla either way." I didn't have to look up because I knew there was going to be a smirk on his stupid beautiful face.
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waywardfangirl · 4 years
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Write This Down
General Audiences | No Archive Warnings Apply
Baz Pitch/Simon Snow | 3,305 words | Complete
Summary: Inspired by Write This Down by George Strait - Baz and Simon love each other, and they know it. But, Baz came close to losing Simon once, and he doesn't intend to let that ever happen again.
***A big thank you to @foolofabookwyrm​ for editing this for me literally the second I finished writing it! I love you!!!***
Baz
The first time I told Simon I loved him, tears were pouring down both of our faces and we were absolutely miserable. It was one of the worst days of my life, and I hated the fact that every nice thing Simon and I have, every special moment and milestone in our disaster of a relationship, is marred in some way by tragedy. We kissed for the first time in the middle of a burning forest when I was so deep in the throes of self-hatred I couldn’t find my way out without Simon to save me. Instead of the honeymoon phase that every other couple gets, Simon and I received death and destruction and trauma, and then hearings and interrogations before the Coven. When we tried to go on vacation, to take a break and do something to pull Simon out of the pit of depression he had spiraled into, we almost died multiple times. When I finally propose to him I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure that dark creatures can’t find us, the weather can’t ruin us, and even our well-meaning but nosy friends can’t disturb us.
But I’m getting too far ahead of myself. I can’t start planning for a proposal just yet, because I’m still not sure that I won’t lose him one day. He told me he loved me with tears streaming down his cheeks, and then he tried to break up with me.
I had started crying around that time too; I wanted to be in control, I wanted to shut off my emotions so Simon wouldn’t be hurt by my own anguish, but instead traitorous tears came streaming down my face and I started babbling out every thought I’d ever had – please don’t leave me and I’m not happy without you and no no no don’t go, Simon, please don’t and eventually I love you, I love you too, I love you so much, there’s nothing for me if you aren’t here, I love you. So, no, it was not one of our better moments.
Once I finally convinced him that breaking up with me would, in fact, not help me at all, we agreed to put serious effort into working on our relationship. This has also meant that both Simon and I found ourselves going to (separate) therapists, and coming together once a month for couple’s counseling too. Put together, we’re utilizing three-quarters of the magical word’s mental health resources. (It’s helping.)
(Read the rest on AO3, or under the cut)
I don’t know exactly what Simon discusses with his own therapist (although I could probably make a few guesses), but my therapist has been encouraging me to work on my own anxieties as of late among other things. I haven’t been able to shake my fear that Simon might decide to leave again, and that crying amidst declarations of love won’t fix things this time. So, since I can’t control the actions of others, I can only control what I think and do myself (yes, thank you Amy, the once-weekly sessions are working and I now hear your voice in my head when I evaluate my own thoughts), I’ve decided on a course of action that will help both Simon and myself.
I start by stealing his phone. He only uses the notes app to write down things he wants to bring up in therapy, so I ignore all the existing memos and start a new one, just three words – I love you.
(The numpty never bothered setting a passcode, I should modify his phone more often. He needs a new lock screen.)
 Three days later, Simon emerges from his bedroom after his appointment, face blotchy and tear tracks drying on his cheeks. Every muscle in my body pulls to gather him up in my arms and give him shelter in the form of an embrace, but I know in moments like this I have to let him make the first move. Luckily, he walks straight over to where I’m putting the dishes away and immediately buries his face in my neck. His arms cinch around my waist, and I waste no time in pulling him closer to me, carding one hand through his curls.
“Alright, love?”
He nods, pressing in closer, then mumbles into my skin, “I love you.”
Ah. He found the note, then. Good.
“I love you too.”
*****
The next week, I walk into Simon and Penny’s apartment after classes, only to find Simon asleep on the couch. Netflix is playing some action movie on the tv, and Simon’s face is twitching slightly, still reacting to the sound even while fast asleep. I know he was up late last night preparing for a big presentation, so I let him rest. As I pull my laptop out of my bag to study at the kitchen table, I grab a sticky note as well, and attach it to the center of the television screen.
I love you
An hour later, I hear the tv shut off. Simon wanders into the kitchen, sitting down at the table and scooching his chair over until it’s pressed up next to mine. He kisses me on the cheek, and then on the mouth when I turn my head.
“Hi love, how was your day?”
“Good. Better now.”
*****
Finals are upon us, and of course the worst academic weeks of the year are also the time when Simon and I decide to try spending the night together again. (Just sleeping, but sharing each other’s space for that long, being there together when we wake up the next morning.) I feel like all of this should be so much easier, like other couples just make it look so effortless – we love each other, why can’t we show it? Why is it so hard to turn those emotions into actions and words? I don’t ever want to be beside anyone else, how can I prove that to him?
After the first few nights, it starts to feel normal. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to the feeling of Snow’s arms wrapped around me, his muscles relaxing as we both fall asleep, but I don’t want to get used to it. I want it to be novel every single time, I always want to feel this in love with him.
Tonight, though, I can’t let myself lie down until I finish this last essay. I’ll edit it tomorrow, but I can’t stop writing until I’m done or I know I’ll lose momentum. Simon went to bed at least half an hour ago, and that’s all the incentive I need to keep my fingers flying across the keyboard; the sooner I’m done, the sooner I’ll be back beside him.
I close my laptop at half past midnight, and attempt to straighten the academic mess on the kitchen table before breakfast ruins a textbook tomorrow morning. Snow has left his books in a perilous heap, on the verge of teetering onto the floor, so I straighten the stack, then pick up the top book.
It’s a textbook, An Introduction to Social Services, because my brave and caring boyfriend wants to continue saving the world in any way he can. The first half of the book is filled with bookmarks and flags, highlighted passages and scribbled notes in the margins. He’s been attacking his studies with a vigor he’s never shown for academia before, and I’m so proud of him. I pick up a pen and add a note of my own under the practice review he’s flagged with tomorrow’s date (when did he get to be so organized? He’s wonderfully full of surprises even now) – You’re absolutely brilliant, love.
I leaf through the book to the next practice exam, this one flagged for three days from now. You’re the most caring man I’ve ever met, you were born for this work. The review in the middle of the book gets a simple (true) I’m so proud of you, and then I start leafing through the pages I assume Simon will be using next semester. I don’t let myself question the future, I don’t let uncertainty and anxiety creep in, I just write notes on random pages, to be discovered in the middle of lectures or homework or studying.
My darling
You’re the only sunshine I need
Have I told you lately how handsome you are?
I adore you
You’re my perfect other half, I’m so happy we match
Finally, I leave an index card mixed in with the ones he’s been using for review.
Q: How much do I love you?
A: More than I can possibly say.
*****
Simon Snow can still go off. He’s less physically destructive now, nothing in the flat gets burnt to a crisp and he doesn’t leave craters behind, but sometimes his emotions get stopped up until they come out in a flood of yelling and crying, and he erupts.
We’ve both been trying to be better about handling our outbursts, and trying not to take bad days out on the other, but sometimes it still happens. I don’t know exactly what happened today, but from what I can make out it seems like small things just piled up until I rolled my eyes when Simon suggested watching Star Wars, and that became the straw that broke the camel’s back. Old habits die hard, and we both still give as good as we get when fighting, so fifteen minutes later Penelope came home to find a screaming match in the living room and neither of us even aware of what we were saying or fighting over anymore.
She made us sit down and go through all the skills we’ve learned (use “I” statements, list your emotions, say what you admire about the other person – fine, thank you Amy, your voice is still in my head) until finally we had calmed down enough to be there for each other again.
I held Simon as he cried into my shirt, and we crawled into bed together still holding hands. We kissed before falling asleep and the last thing I remembered was Simon’s breath ghosting over me.
Now though, I’m awake, pulled from sleep and my boyfriend’s arms because I needed a glass of water, and I suddenly can’t stop reliving our argument. We’re fine, I know we are, we’re going to be okay. All couples fight, what matters is that we sat down and talked about it afterwards. We’re both sorry and we both love each other.
I can’t help the voice in the back of my head though, the voice that insists that Simon still thinks I don’t love him and that he might leave me again. I ignore it, then tell it how wrong it is, before finally giving in to my anxiety and tearing a blank piece of paper from the notepad on the fridge. I leave the note on his bedside table, so he’ll see it first thing in the morning, when he inevitably wakes up before I do.
Simon, my dearest, I love you so much. I promise, I love you, no matter what.
*****
“Baz! Did you get it?”
Simon Snow is bouncing on the soles of his feet like a toddler crossed with a golden retriever, and if anyone else were acting like this I would make a point of ignoring them, but because it’s Simon I just kiss him quickly and pull the book out from behind my back.
“Yes, love, I got it. Hot off the press, specially for you.”
Simon’s never been much of a reader, but after discovering ‘the best book in the world’, as he puts it, he’s been devouring this series. The newest one was released today, and I promised him I would pick it up from the bookstore on my way home. (I’ve read them too, and they are quite good, although Simon is definitely more enchanted with them than I am.)
“Can we start reading it right now?” He’s got it clutched to his chest like a child, and—no, that’s dangerous territory to enter, I can’t let myself start thinking of Simon with a baby or else I won’t leave this flat until I’ve proposed to him, and he deserves a nicer proposal than whatever happens to fall out of my mouth right now. Besides, I don’t even have the ring with me, it’s still hidden in my sock drawer back in Hampshire.
“Are you suggesting skipping dinner?” I hold up the bags of takeaway I’ve brought. He looks anguished.
“Can’t we do both?”
He’s a disaster. I love him.
“Alright you bottomless pit, you can eat your dinner and I’ll read to you, will that work?”
He kisses me again in response, a proper snog that’s only interrupted when Bunce wanders through to the kitchen, remarking loudly to Shepard, “They have their own room and everything, but they still insist on doing this sort of thing out here in the open.”
Simon good naturedly flips her off, and I pull away to smirk.
“He’s far too attractive for me to confine my affection to only one room in the house, Bunce. It’s not fair to expect me to restrain myself when my boyfriend is so criminally handsome.” I take Simon’s hand and tug him into the living room to settle against me as I start to read.
When all the food has been devoured and my voice is starting to lull Snow to sleep, I grab a scrap of paper, scribble I love you on it, and then insert it in the book to mark our place.
*****
Simon has been baking up a storm. He’s determined to figure out Cook Pritchard’s recipe for sour cherry scones, because she won’t give up the secret and he hates having to wait for Pitch family gatherings to eat them. He’s going through butter like a fiend, and all of our neighbors adore us because he keeps giving batches away.
When he leaves the kitchen to go retrieve something from his bedroom I slip a note into the fridge, to be discovered the next time he picks up the butter.
I love you
 Three days later, I find the note affixed to the freezer door.
*****
“It’s so empty!”
Simon’s voice bounces off of the walls, and it almost echoes. The house really is empty, at once both exciting and intimidating – this is ours, this is where we get to keep building our life together, this is where we’ll make more memories, this is where we’ll start our family.
“The rest of our furniture will be here tomorrow, love, the movers said they could have it in before nine.”
I hear running footfalls, and then Simon comes sliding down the hall in his socks, crashing into me and almost knocking me over.
“Maybe we should keep it like this, and we can use the first floor for sock races!” He’s laughing, and so happy, and I adore him.
“Mmm, perhaps not,” I say, pushing his curls back from his face. “As enchanting as that idea may be, I expect you’d be sad if Penny and Shepard stopped visiting us because they had no place to sit. And I’m sure you would miss having a dining room table, too.” I kiss him on his nose, because it always makes him laugh, and then I lean back, grab his hands, and spin him around in circles in our empty living room.
Once we’re both too dizzy to stay standing, we collapse on the floor together, struggling to swallow our giggles. Eventually, I pull Simon back up to standing, and nudge him to start unpacking what we can. Dishes go in the cupboards, and sheets go in the linen closet. One of the boxes I open has a hammer and nails, and Simon finds the box that we put our pictures in. Some have to be set aside until the furniture is arranged, but we hang a few in the kitchen and the entry hall. Right before we blow up the inflatable mattress and go to sleep for the first time in our new house, I lead Simon back into the living room and pull out one last photo to hang.
The picture itself is quite large, a candid shot taken during our engagement party. Simon was laughing at something I’d just said, and he’s as bright and radiant as ever. I’m gazing adoringly at him, looking every bit the lovesick fool I am. Penny and Shep are in the background, along with Fiona and the rest of my immediate family, and everyone looks so happy to be celebrating the two of us. It’s one of my favorites, enlarged to sit in a frame over the mantle, where everyone who enters our home will be sure to see it.
It’s a bit of a struggle to get it to hang straight, but eventually we manage it.
“That looks lovely. I didn’t even know you’d had that one framed, I like it.”
I kiss his neck, and wrap my arms around his waist, hooking my chin over his shoulder and holding my wand out in front of him.
“Beauty is in the eye of the beholder.”
We watch together as three words start to curve around our bodies in the portrait, shiny gold cursive tethering us to each other and stating simply, I love you.
Simon leans back into me, turning his face up for a kiss. “I love you too,” he whispers when we pull apart, “Show-off.” Then he’s walking backwards down the hall, leading me towards the stairs, and going to break his neck if he tries to go up the stairs without first turning around. I’ll tell him tomorrow that the spell I cast will only show those words if they’re true and if I still mean them. (They’re going to be there forever.)
*****
We go ring shopping together. We want our wedding rings to match, and to also complement the engagement rings we gave each other, so we block off an entire Saturday to find the perfect bands. (It turns out that the perfect rings are hiding in a jewelry store just a few blocks from Simon and Penny’s first apartment, which I think has a lovely symmetry to it.)
The rings themselves are simple, gold bands that compliment both of our complexions with a delicate scattering of engraved stars barely visible on the surface. We know immediately that these are our rings, we hardly need to glance at each other to confirm it.
As we’re being sized and filling out all the necessary information, I hand over a folded slip of paper.
“I would like this to be engraved on the inside of his ring, please.”
Simon’s mouth falls open for a moment, then he reaches into his jeans pocket to pull out his own slip of paper.
“I’d like this engraved inside of his too, please,” he says, and I can’t help but loop my arm around his waist.
“I suppose great minds think alike, don’t they Snow?”
He wrinkles his nose.
“You’re going to have to start calling me Pitch before too much longer, you know.”
I wasn’t prepared for this argument, and I’m far too in love with him to have a satisfactory response ready.
“No I won’t. Pitch will be your last name, and Snow will become your middle name. You call me by my middle name already, so we’ll match,” I add, as a happy afterthought.
The jeweler chuckles.
“You really do. You want the same engraving and everything.”
I feel like he maybe should have understood that those messages were meant to be a surprise, given Snow’s obvious shock, and the folded pieces of paper, but I’m a little too happy to care. Our wedding rings are going to match, inscription and all.
I love you
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mieczyhale · 4 years
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~TUA Fic Recs~
for the @tuafeedbackfest !!!! there are so many amazing fics bc this fandom really is insanely talented - i wish i had the time to rec all of the ones i’ve bookmarked tbh - BUT as i don’t:: these are some of my favorites (ones i’ve read multiple times, ones that stuck with me, ones that have just a little extra.. Something??)
Amidst the Chaos by crazynadine [explicit. klave. vietnam] Ten months. Klaus spent ten months in Vietnam, fighting a war he didn't belong in, falling in love with a man he didn't deserve.The long and convoluted tale about how a time traveling junkie and a disillusioned solider found love amidst the chaos of war....
Angel of Small Death and the Codeine Scene by @obliqueoptimism [klave. vietnam] Klaus says so many horrifying things so casually, and it makes Dave worry.
Bolt from the Blue by @ancientst / TheArchaeologist [mature. parent!klaus. five as klaus’s son] When they were sixteen Klaus successfully escaped for the night, and to celebrate went to the disco with a girl he barely knew. He was young, terribly misguided, but overall the night had been amazing.He just didn't expect to have a baby dumped in his arms nine months later.
can i be the only hope for you by @dancinbutterfly [explicit. klave. vietnam] Klaus is so special the pull of him is overwhelming. Dave doesn’t think he’s strong enough to resist his gravity. He’s too powerful. And fuck it, Dave doesn’t really want to. or (How a fairly ordinary soldier falls in love with Klaus Hargeeves, superhero, time traveler, and medium)
Choirs Threaten in Voices I Only Feel by @veteranklaus [teen rating. klave. typical hargreeves family nonsense] The last time Klaus saw his siblings was at Allison and Patrick's wedding. A lot had changed since then; including the not-so-accidental, irreversible loss of his sight.There's no time to tell them that, though. Not with the return of their long-presumed-dead brother and the impending apocalypse. Plus, it doesn't matter. He's got Ben as a good seeing-eye ghost.
Eggs Benedict for Breakfast by warmhandscoldheart [mature. klave. feral!dave. protective hargreeves] In which Klaus hits his head hard enough to get retroactive amnesia, and Luther does what he thinks is best.
Everyone Gets Here Eventually by @hermitreunited [mature. klave. ghost!dave. tw discussions of suicide] In the afterlife, all it takes to be with your loved ones is for both of you to want to be together. But for some reason, Dave hasn’t been able to reunite with Klaus, so he’ll do what it takes to find him. 
i’d rather lose my limb (than let you come to harm) by @bluebacchus​ [explicit. klave. au. chickens] How Klaus and Dave find each other in a corner of a foreign field in Flanders, 1917. (WWI AU) OR, A story of love, war, and chickens.
If Your Life Won’t Wait by queenbaskerville [teen rating. major character death. family emotions] When Klaus dies on the dance floor, God kicks him out of the afterlife. But she only kicks him out halfway.
i wore his jacket for the longest time by sharkhette [not rated. klave. tw temporary death] Klaus just wants to see Dave again, and he's willing to do whatever it takes to make that happen, no matter the cost. Includes conversations with Ben, Diego, God, a surly preacher, and gratuitous references to certain MCR songs. 
Neon Groves by Livijoyann [mature. klave. vietnam] Klaus Hargreeves travels back to the Vietnam War and falls in love with Dave... and we've seen almost none of it so far. Enjoy a full following of Klaus's time in 1968 from the first kiss to the first "I love you", and ultimately, to the end (with just about everything in between). 
Orange is the New Leather Skirt by Doctor959 [mature. typical hargreeves family nonsense. post-s1] A Misfits/Umbrella Academy crossover (no need to know either fandom to enjoy). The Hargreeves land by a certain community center and shit gets weird
The Light Behind A Cloud by @theseance1968 [explicit. wip. klave. vietnam] An account of Klaus’ time in Vietnam, on a diverged path where Dave survives his injuries. Flowered with opportunities, Klaus chooses to leave his old life behind and stay in the past with him. But how will his decision effect the timeline he abandoned, where his siblings continue to fight to stop the apocalypse in his absence?
The Shadows You Leave Behind by rarae [mature. brothers being brothers. tw discussions of rape and consent] The Hargreeves have stopped the apocalypse and have just returned to the real world from training Vanya in Five's weird pocket dimension. Klaus decides he needs to get some of his things to bring back to the academy and drags Diego along for the ride. They run into one of Klaus’ old ‘friends’ and shit goes down.
the war is over, we are beginning by @karturtle [teen rating. wip. klave. 2019. good brother five] The Hargreeves are slowly beginning to fix things after averting the apocalypse, but Five notices that something is still broken
Two Truths and a Lie by twosidedcoin [general. typical hargreeves family nonsense] “I want to go next,” Klaus announced, “Okay. My eyes are brown. I can see dead people, and I once offered sex to a drug lord to get out of his trunk.”Luther’s fist balled the paper into a ball as he snapped, “The point- Klaus- is to make the lie hard to guess.”Allison nudged Luther with her toe as she corrected, “His eyes are green.”
War is Hell by sauropod [explicit. klave. fix it-ish] Klaus' hands were still filthy with dried blood and muck as he fumbled at the clasps, the combination lock on the top. Desperate, blind hope had his heart going a mile a minute. The dial still read that seemingly random set of numbers it had the first time he opened it on the bus, what felt like a lifetime ago. 0213-18-02-1967“Please.” Klaus choked. “Please work.” He opened the briefcase.
Watch The Heavens (They’re Falling Down) by smile_it_will_get_better [teen rating. wip. typical hargreeves family nonsense] He reached under his pillow on reflex, and there was something there, something hard and rectangular and Five couldn’t help but pull it out.It was a package, encased in brown paper, a small tag attached to the side. Five thumbed it over, ignoring Luther’s inquiries about what it said.To Mr. Five Hargreeves, watch these if you want to survive the apocalypse.
We Only See Each Other at Arrests and Bails by icestorm238 [teen rating. brothers being brothers] aka the five times Diego picked up Klaus from the police station, and the one time Klaus picked up Diego.
Where’s Dave? by multifandom_damnation [teen rating. klaus centric. family emotions] Klaus has a flashback during family time and his siblings finally learn about all the horrific shit he's gone through, a heart to heart ensues and Diego proves how good a brother he really is. It's not a great revelation to have
Wild Eyed Boy by intheflowers [not rated. klave. slow burn. vietnam] Klaus dropped into Dave's life with a flash of blue light.It was the first time Klaus suprised him, but it was far from the last, and while at first he’d wondered if Klaus was maybe a little mad, it wasn’t long before he was certain that he really, definitely was.Not that it mattered much. Klaus had stolen his heart long before then. 
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -    ~FIC SERIES RECS~ It’s Not Living (If It’s Not With You) by @thefangirlingdead A series of moments between Klaus and Dave, during and post-season one. Definitely a fix-it universe dedicated to giving Klaus the happiness and love he deserves. Hope There’s Someone (Who Will Take Care of Me) by @siriuspiggyback baby that’s just how i am by princex_N He's the only one who tries to get used to it, because what other choice does he have? The others still wait, still ask when he'll be done playing around, still yell at him for being annoying, but no one seems to stop and realize that there's nothing he can do about it.Klaus gets used to it, but he's the only one who does.
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ilovemygaydad · 5 years
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No One [part 2]
from the friends in dark places au
pairing: pining logince, mentions of past toxic roman/oc
WARNINGS: crying, anxiety, alcohol usage, people get drunk, making out, kissing, PTSD, coming out, internalized transphobia, swearing, and mentions of: non-consentual sex, sexual assault, date rape drugs, drug usage, implied underage sex, blackmail (in the form of cp), transphobia, transphobic slurs, forced coming out, misgendering, food mentions, rebellious behavior, insensitive comments, physical assault, and possibly something else
tag list: @hufflepuffgirl01 @cocobearthe4th @cas-is-a-hunter @band-be-boss-blog @theunoriginaldaisy
a/n: jsyk, it’s totally okay to ask for a modified chapter if you need it or if i need to add tags! i get it, and it’s no problem for me to quick edit a chapter or whatever :) also, feel free to send requests or questions that you have!
a/n 2: hey so this story is super dark and shitty, so please read with caution! i’m happy to summarize for anyone who needs it!!!
first of main plot - companions
part one of no one
consider buying me a coffee (please)
-
September 23, 2015
Roman shut his locker door, clicking the lock closed, and turned to walk to his first block class. He only made it a few feet before someone called his name.
“Roman! Hey, wait up!” He turned and found Audrey, the student council president, running towards him. She handed him a small card and smiled. “You’re invited to my homecoming after-party. I hope you’ll be there.” With a wink, she was gone.
As much as Roman feigned popularity, he never actually got invited to parties. But he was excited! Other than cast parties, it would be his first high school party, for goodness sake! His eyes scanned the invitation and immediately saw “One additional person allowed with each guest.” Roman weaved through the hallway--his short stature payed off for once--and made his way to Logan’s first class.
“Lo! I got invited to a party!” Ro whisper yelled to Logan. The other teen, who was engrossed in a book, nodded.
“That’s wonderful, Roman. And why are you telling me about this?”
Roman groaned and snatched the book from his friend. “Because I want you to come with me!”
Logan looked up at his, quirking his eyebrow. “You want me to accompany you to a party? Are you serious? Roman, you know that it isn’t nice to play practical jokes on your friends.”
“Of course I’m serious!” Roman sighed in exasperation. “I know it’s not really your thing, but Patton’s busy on Homecoming night, and I don’t want to go alone! Pleaaaaassseeeeeeeeeeee?” The one thing that could truly get Logan to bend was Roman’s whining voice. Well, that and when Roman climbed on Logan’s 5’11” frame with monkey-like skills.
“Fine. Just stop that incessant noise making! I’m assuming that normal curfew applies and that we’re going to need a ride?” Logan put his space bookmark in his book—Alice in Wonderland; go figure—and put his full attention on his friend.
“Yeah. Would your mom be okay with it?” Roman bounced excitedly on the balls of his feet. He really wanted to go to this party.
“I’ll ask when I get home.” The two minute warning bell rang, and Logan gestured to the door. “You might want to leave now, Roman. Word History is rather far away.”
---
October 3, 2015
The whole inviting-Logan-to-the-party thing definitely hadn’t been an excuse to spend a whole day with him. Of course not. That would be a ridiculous idea…
Logan ended up wearing a black button up, black slacks, and a light blue tie. It was hardly different from his everyday wear, but it was slightly more snazzy. Roman wore a white button up and a red tie, which he claimed was what a prince would wear, and he’d dusted some pretty white highlighter on his cheekbones. It was subtle enough to pass as natural, but enhanced his features just enough to make Roman excited.
At six pm exactly, the two teens made their way down the stairs, met with an eager Mrs. Patrick. “You boys just look so nice! Oh, I’m so proud of you, Roman! You’ve come so far!”
Roman laughed nervously at her nearly outing him, but gave his mother a big hug. “Yeah, Mom. I have.” He chose to ignore the way that his binder felt so tight around his chest.
For most of the Homecoming dance, Roman danced with assorted friends from Drama, occasionally dragging Logan into the fray. As soon as the dance ended, Roman changed into some more casual clothes for the party (Logan had refused to bring any extras for himself), and they waited for Mrs. Christiansen to pick them up.
Logan’s mom made sure to outline what the plan was. They’d be dropped off at the party at 10:30, have three hours to do whatever it is that kids do at parties as long as it’s legal, and then they’d be picked up between 1:30 and 2:00. Which, honestly, was far more time than Roman had thought that they would get. Mrs. Christiansen, being a doctor, was always worrying about Logan becoming one of the horrific ER cases of teenagers in drunk driving accidents.
Once they’d arrived, Roman practically threw himself out of the car. His sneakers hit the sidewalk with a quiet thump, and Logan’s clacking shoes followed suit. They made their way to the door and knocked. A wave of sound hit them as soon as the door opened. Booming bass and piercing treble accosted their ears, and suddenly Roman was glad he had brought ear plugs for himself and Logan.
“Roman!” Audrey slurred, clearly already drunk. “And your sexy friend. Glad you two could make it.”
“Yeah…” Roman hesitated. They stood awkwardly for a moment before Audrey finally moved out of the way to make room for them to squeeze their way in. Logan dodged some sort of groping motion from Audrey, looking for safety in Roman. They might have gotten themselves a tad bit in over their heads.
The duo sat on the stairs for a few minutes before Roman heard a song he enjoyed, jumping into the pool of dancing bodies. Logan sighed, tapping at his phone absently. He had expected something like this to happen, but he didn’t want to leave Roman alone at a party. He didn’t trust people like Patton did.
Roman, on the other hand, grabbed a cup from a table of snacks and drank. The drink stung as it went down, but it settled nicely and gave him a bit of warmth on the frigid October night. He had no idea what he was drinking, but he continued to down the entire cup within the next five minutes.
---
Less than an hour later, Roman’s head felt completely clear as he stumbled through the crowd. Logan observed his friend drunkenly flirting with a lamp, which was quite funny, but it worried him slightly. He hadn’t even seen Roman drinking, and he was supposed to be protecting Roman. Logan sighed and looked back at his phone. Roman would be fine. He always was.
Roman sat in an armchair at the corner of the living room. He was happy and free and everything just felt right.
A boy that he didn’t recognize approached him, shouting over the loud music, “You look really great tonight!”
“Thanks!” Roman shouted back, ignoring the light blush dusting his cheeks. “What’s your name?”
“Cal! And you are?”
“Roman!”
“Well, Roman,” Cal started with a charming smile. “Would you like to dance with me?”
Roman nodded, and suddenly, they were dancing. He could feel the heat from Cal’s body radiating through his thin t-shirt. At any other time, Ro would be afraid of what other people were thinking, but everyone at the party was drunk out of their minds. Not a single person would pay mind to the gay kid dancing with a random guy at a party.
At some point, Roman had been led back to the chair he’d been sitting in just a bit ago. He felt his back press against the wall, and he glanced up to see Cal gazing hungrily at him. He should have felt fear; he knew that look isn’t anything good, but he didn’t care. Roman threw all his worries behind him as he reached up and kissed Cal.
---
Logan nearly had dozed off on the stairs when he saw a flash of red cross the room. He focused in on the smudge of color and saw Roman being led to a secluded corner of the room by a stranger. Logan jumped up; his protective instincts were kicking in. He’d been so stupid to think that Roman could handle himself while drunk. He knew the effects that alcohol could have on people, and he should have intervened when he saw Roman flirting with a fucking lamp!
Weaving his way through the mass of people, Logan mumbled quick apologies to the couples “dancing” and pushed forward. Finally, he reached where Roman was, but the sight Logan saw froze him in place.
Roman’s hands were casually slung around the stranger’s neck, and the two were making out with passion. The stranger's hands snaked their way up Roman’s shirt, touching the skin of his lower back. The stranger made a move to go in the direction of the stairs, and that’s what finally forced Logan out of his trance.
Anger, worry, and another mystery feeling bubbled up in Logan’s chest. He pushed the stranger away and took Roman by the hand, dragging his small friend up the stairs and into the first bathroom that he could find. He guided Roman in, turning to lock the door behind them, before facing his friend, who was now sitting cross legged on the floor and playing with the hem of his pants.
“Roman, what were you thinking? You don’t even know that guy! He could—and probably did—have malicious intent!” Logan scolded worriedly, kneeling down before Roman. He took his friend into his arms and nearly squeezed the life out of him.
Roman spoke up as soon as Logan let go. “I wasn’t thinking… I was just so caught up in the fact that someone liked me. It was stupid.” Tears began to trail down Ro’s face, staining his delicate features with a harsh, wet glare. “You’re just so good to me, Logan! And I’ve done nothing but hurt you! I’m a terrible friend.” Roman was practically wailing, throwing his head into his hands.
“What? Roman, that’s not—“
“I’ve been lying to you—and Pat, for fuck’s sake—since we met. I just didn’t want to lose you like I lost everyone else! I’m just… I’m a girl.” Logan stayed completely silent, not wanting to interrupt whatever his friend was saying. Ro shook his head and corrected himself. “No, that’s not right. I was born a girl.”
After processing the information for a few moments, Logan spoke. “You’re transgender, then?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m trans. I started transitioning just before I moved to Westview. The kids at my school bullied me for ‘pretending’ to be a boy, and it just got to be too much for me to handle. We moved here, and I had a completely fresh start. I didn’t have to tell anyone that I was a boy now, just that I was a boy.”
Tick.
Tick.
Tick.
“I didn’t want to lose you two, or worse… Or…” Roman’s words broke into a sob, and Logan reached to grab Ro’s hand as reassurance. “Just before freshman year, one of the boys at my summer camp sexually assaulted me.” Logan opened his mouth, but he was cut off immediately. “I know that you know, but you don’t know the full story. I always knew who assaulted me, but I lied and told the counselors and the police that I had no idea who it could be. They gave up looking after a while. The boy who assaulted me found out I was trans after the first time, and he blackmailed me with it. He used it to make me feign his innocence and to… He made me have sex with him throughout the rest of the summer. I never wanted to, but I'd convinced myself that it was for the best. I didn’t want to have to deal with the rejection of everyone finding out I was trans. He is the prime example of what I didn’t want to happen, and it solidified my case for not telling you guys.
“I look at my body in the mirror and want to throw up because I remember all the terrible things I’ve done. I hate myself.”
Logan wiped at the tears running down his face. He had never even imagined all the pain that Roman had gone through; it had all been hidden so well. He could have been here for Roman, helping him through his emotional struggles, yet he had been completely useless. And it was made even worse with the knowledge that Roman wouldn’t be saying any of this except for the fact that he was drunk.
“Roman, I am so sorry. I am so, so sorry that you had to live through all of that. I’m an idiot for not seeing the signs,” Lo whispered, tracing circles in the back of Roman’s hand with his thumb.
“I hid it well. I don’t have all those acting awards for nothing, Lo.” Roman’s laugh echoed in the tiled space. It was a ruse, for sure, and it cracked down like the ceramic in the shower. Ro finally let all of his emotions out, ones that he’d kept in for years and years. The two friends embraced once more until Roman’s sobs ceased, and he was gently sleeping on Logan’s shoulder.
Logan pulled out his phone. Shit. His mom had been waiting for nearly ten minutes. He shot her a quick text, and scooped Roman up into his arms. He quickly and carefully made his way down the stairs and through the mob of people, quickly grabbing his and Roman’s jackets before running outside. His mom was, thankfully, parked right outside, and he easily was able to dump Roman in the back seat and slide in next to him.
Mrs. Christiansen gave Logan a worried look. “Don’t worry, Mom. Ro just had a panic attack, and he fell asleep due to emotional exhaustion. He’ll be fine by morning.” She gave up trying to find out more and drove them back to the safety of the Christiansen household.
---
May, 2017 [sometime in the weeks following prom]
“Roman, you’ve been putting it off for weeks now. Virgil isn’t going to make fun of you for being trans,” Logan coaxed, pushing his boyfriend toward Patton’s house. “And if he does, I’ll personally kick his ass.”
“I just don’t want to risk it, babe. What if he doesn’t say anything but he gives me The Look? What do I do then? This could ruin his and Patton’s relationship, and he’s finally found someone that he’s happy with! I don’t want to do that to him, Lo!” Roman pleaded, trying to turn back towards the car.
But Logan had already thought this through. The front door swung open, and Virgil stepped into the warm spring air. “You wanted to tell me something, Knight in Shining Converse?”
Roman froze, slowly turning to face the emo disaster on the front stoop. “Uh… Yeah?”
“What’s up?” Virgil asked calmly, noticing the tension built up in Roman and acting accordingly.
“I’m, uh… transgender… So, like, I was born a girl, and now I’m a boy.” Roman stuttered his way through the explanation, knowing that it was probably unnecessary, but not really able to get out of it.
“Cool. Is that all you guys wanted? Cause Patton and I are watching Big Hero 6, and I kinda want to get back to it. You guys are welcome to join us, too.” Virgil sounded a bit ticked off, but it was pretty obvious that he just wanted to watch his movie.
Roman smiled gently. “That would be fantastic.”
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popliar · 5 years
Text
namseok fic links
disclaimer - this is all a bit random, I bookmark so many things and sometimes I don't remember what I actually thought about them... But they are all readable and worth a click imo.
other posts: fic links | namseok links part 2
collide the spaces that divide - pardon  Hoseok/Namjoon. "Namjoon and Hoseok compete for Yoongi's affection - just like they do everything else." good. 16,100 words. College au.
Debrief - Quettaser  Hoseok/Namjoon. "He shifted, just enough to see the cluster of Gong and his cronies and Hoseok in the reflection of the window. Hoseok was laughing again, pawing with his drink-free hand at the closest associate. His hair was mussed, like he'd been running his hands through it. He still looked great, of course, but something was wrong. Oh no. Hoseok was drunk. (For the prompt: criminals/thieves + drunk kiss)" 1300 words.
raise me up again - nebulia  Hoseok/Namjoon. "[They have never talked about it. These are the most words either of them has ever said about it outside of sex. Namjoon has always put it in that place between them, the 2% awkward Hoseok mentioned that one time on Kkul FM. He knows silently fucking the only same-age friend in your idol group isn’t normal or anything, but he figured maybe it was just...what happened. They only did it when it could be done not talking, so hardly ever on tour. And Namjoon knows they should probably talk about it, but Hoseok is right that they’re only 98% close. Maybe the 2% is just weird sex.] Namjoon relies on Hoseok a lot, but he never feels like he gives anything back. (He's wrong.)" porn with feelings. 10,600 words.
prismatic - mahistrado  Hoseok/Namjoon. "Hoseok takes care of Namjoon. It was the kind of care that hurt sometimes, sure. A spoonful of castor oil kind of love; nasty going down, good from the inside out." just really, really great character work. 6400 words.
Kabe-don - Mother of Pearl (Jinjuui_eomeoni) Hoseok/Namjoon. "Hoseok nearly kissed Namjoon in front of an audience of 5000. Namjoon is the only one who didn't notice." tension escalator, the fic! 7000 words.
longer than I thought - dollyeo  Hoseok/Namjoon. "Hoseok keeps trying to convince Taehyung weddings are amazing, if only to ease the pain of forking over thousands of won as a cash gift for a co-worker that Taehyung insists doesn't need his hard-earned money. And it's fine. Weddings really are great. Except, of course, when you run into an ex in the process." 10,100 words.
not my business (i got you) - signifying_nothing  Hoseok/Namjoon. hoseok's life is ruled by the mantra, "not my business" but it's hard to ignore the business of your best friend when you're kind of in love with said best friend." trans namjoon. 3800 words.
have not saints lips - monbon   Hoseok/everyone. "as seokjin stepped up, lifting his shirt to point to a bruise jimin had (accidentally) inflicted on his abs, jimin and taehyung were still arguing. “you live together!” taehyung was retorting. “his bed is twenty centimeters from yours! you spoon basically every night!” “stop trying to deflect, tae, the line is sacred and you know it!” “oh man,” said yoongi, “i dunno who lied to you you, but nothing in this house has ever been or will ever be sacred. not since i walked in on you in the bathroom after those sketchy kebabs.”" hobi is gonna kiss EVERY BOY. 1200 words.
blue night - jesspava  Hoseok/Namjoon. "Namjoon might be six years into an illustrious career with the NHL, but he's pretty sure Jung Hoseok's in a whole different league: four time Prix champion, silver medalist at Sochi just shy of 20, darling of the ISU. None of these things explain why he's under Namjoon right now though, their faces so close he could just lean down and kiss." she handles the melodrama well. Really gripping and well told. 65,000 words.
i hear the whole world turning - pearl_o  Hoseok/Namjoon. "It's always been hot and it's always going to be hot. It's not true, Namjoon reminds himself, but it feels true." 2200 words.
must be like the genesis of rhythm - pearl_o   Hoseok/Namjoon. ""I'm more concerned about the fact that we've been married for nineteen hours now and we still haven't had sex." "Concerned, huh," Namjoon says. "I'm just saying it's not the sort of precedent we wanna set, you know?" Hoseok says. "You can't be too careful."" 2000 words.
if it's with you, i'm down - misspamela  Hoseok/Namjoon. "Hoseok laughed. “I’m not sure you would have drowned down there, but sure, thanks.” He pushed his sunglasses up to the top of his head and his bangs spilled out over his forehead. “You underestimate my capacity for overthinking things,” Namjoon said. “I could have died out there, analysis paralysis is the silent killer.”" Hoseok is a surfer and Namjoon is a scientist. 2200 words.
The Most Beautiful Canvas - idyllic_hummingbird  Hoseok/Namjoon. "Tattoo artist Namjoon often does coverups for hybrids' old ID tattoos, and finds himself quite taken by his latest client, Hoseok, full of charisma and ready to laugh in the face of a fight. " The older sighed, but then he gave a laugh, smiling genuinely as he shook his head. “You know, there’s not really an easy way to tell someone you’re an underground street fighter.” Namjoon laughed along, but his smile faded when Hoseok didn’t add anything. “Wait, are you serious?” "" Hoseok is really more of a shifter/werewolf than a hybrid.  23,700 words.
lyre lyre lyre - oliviacirce  Hoseok/Namjoon. "Namjoo regrets every life choice that has led her here, to the hard wooden floor of this dance studio, where she's lying on her back like a beached whale" hot and funny. 7000 words.
habitual rituals - 12091802  Hoseok/Namjoon. they hook up at a party and fall into a relationship. sweet! 6700 words.
Byte Me - strawberrie (empireant)  Hoseok/Namjoon. "Computer nerds shouldn't be allowed to have a dancer's body and the heart of an angel, but Jung Hoseok was an anomaly from the start." 8300 words.
Namjoon and the Terrible Horrible No Good Very Bad Day - tullycat   Hoseok/Namjoon. "The best laid schemes o’ mice an’ Namjoon Gang aft agley (But it's okay, because Hoseok is having the best day ever.)" sweet and funny. 5000 words.
tadhana - pardon  Hoseok/Namjoon. "The site was in English, and Namjoon really should've checked it over before Hoseok booked the room, but there's nothing to be done about it now. They've got a ten day honeymoon package on a beautiful island, and they're going to make the most of it. Even if it means pretending they're newlyweds to win extra prizes from the resort." sweet and funny! 32,100 words.
take me higher - jonghyunslisterine  Hoseok/Namjoon. ""We should play a game." Namjoon blinks, swallowing harshly and bringing himself back to the moment. He tears his gaze away from Hoseok's legs and finds him staring back, eyes lidded and relaxed. "Huh?" "A game," Hoseok repeats, a grin stretching his cheeks. "Okay. I've got a PlayStation - " Hoseok waves him off. "Not that kind of game."" 1600 words.
until my body ache - bt21  Hoseok/Namjoon. "namjoon's afternoon is ruined (or enhanced) by hoseok's thighs in Those denim shorts" 2200 words.
the clearing - fitzgarbage  Hoseok/Namjoon. "Namjoon isn’t sure many people even know it’s there. After all, the path that leads to it is almost gone now, and the outline of the building is hard to discern, mostly covered in moss and hidden away. It’s not easy to see unless you’re meandering, walking slowly, braving paths that might lead to nothing, talking and breathing and in no hurry to be anywhere at all. That, at least, is how Namjoon and Hoseok first found it." really lovely quiet story of friends to lovers who grow apart and then together again over time. it's not easy for them in a way that feels very real. 18,200 words.
Shaken, Stirred - nivo  Hoseok/Namjoon. "Hoseok needs a partner, he knows he needs a partner. He just doesn’t need Kim Namjoon to be that partner." They go undercover together. 6100 words.
You Can Never Pretend to Love - idyllic_hummingbird  Hoseok/Namjoon. "Namjoon's sister is getting married, and he needs a date so his family won't bug him about how he's still single. Cue his best friend stepping up to the part, and as the weekend goes on, Namjoon starts seeing Hoseok in a different light. " “But still, nagging family or not, I don’t think I’d be complaining about a beach vacation.” “You want to go in my place?” Namjoon asked with a laugh, but then his smile faded. “Wait a second—Seok, come with me.” Hoseok nearly spat up his drink. “Sorry?” “Be my date to the wedding.” "" 9000 words.
word's on the street and it's on the news - pearl_o  Hoseok/Namjoon. "In which Hoseok is sexiled; Namjoon gets self-reflective after a few beers; kissing is fun; and Hoseok discovers he has a lot of catching up to do." 4400 words.
an uninhabited world - misspamela  Hoseok/Namjoon. "“I don’t understand why you’re overthinking this,” Yoongi said. “Is it because of the Hoseok thing?” They were in the studio, too tired to work anymore, instead veering off into exhausted, caffeine-fueled conversations that got way too deep way too fast. “Wait, what Hoseok thing, that was years ago.” Namjoon felt his ears go red. “Was it,” Yoongi said." secret virgins. it's really cute. 10,400 words.
escape to the great sunshine - avtor  Hoseok/Namjoon. "Hoseok doesn't plan on confessing the first evening after three shots of tequila, but it happens anyway." sweet soft bon voyage-y beach holiday confessions. 5000 words.
Learning Love - potterndresden  Hoseok/Namjoon. "Namjoon’s eyes squinted like he was in pain, and then he covered his face as he giggled. Namjoon, full grown college student, actually giggled. “Aw,” Hoseok said, definitely not cooing at Namjoon. “Isn’t Mickey the cutest? He has that effect on everyone. People just love him.” He shoved his face into the dogs soft fur, hugging him close. He peeked over Mickey’s back, meeting Namjoon’s gaze. The other man was staring at him, no longer laughing. Instead, he had an odd, crooked little smile on his face as he gazed, not at Mickey, but at Hoseok. “I can think of something even cuter.” It was a little cryptic, but Hoseok knew exactly what he meant." cute long-distance. 18,900 words.
Arrhythmic - CynoDemure  Hoseok/Namjoon. "Hoseok's not looking for love, but his good friend Jimin certainly has other plans for him. Unfortunately for Jimin, love might be a little closer than either he or Hoseok thought it could be. Or; Sometimes what you need was right in front of you all along." Namjoon is the dog sitter. Hobi likes to sew plushies. 8800 words.
ionic bonding - moonsuns  Hoseok/Namjoon. "ionic bond [(eye- on -ik)] A chemical bond in which one atom gives up an electron to another, thereby generating an electrical force that holds the atoms together." they aren't friends in high school. namjoon leaves due to a severe depressive episode and they meet again at uni. I really liked it. 15,100 words.
Now Streaming - bambambams (phanjessmagoria)   Namjoon/Hoseok. "It's like a scene out of a goddamn romcom, except there's nothing funny or romantic about it: Namjoon accidentally switches his luggage with an honest-to-god camboy, and then unwittingly becomes one himself." pwp. 12,100 words.
stay, stay, stay - dollyeo  Hoseok/Namjoon. ""I watched a porno like this once, you know," says Namjoon, solemnly. "It was very educational." "You do realize that the minute you compare anything to an adult video, it loses any and all credibility, don't you?" "Sharing body heat is an effective means of combating hypothermia," says Namjoon, opening his arms with a filthy grin. "Come back to bed, babe." It's a snow day, which is always a great excuse to stay. At least, that's what Namjoon says." very nice. 2200 words.
waves of running feelings - moonsuns Namjoon/Hoseok. "Plot twist: it turns out Namjoon doesn't have any problem with Hoseok kissing guys if it's Namjoon he's kissing." 14,400 words.
Not Just You; I Need This Too - eightninetwo   Namjoon/Hoseok. "Hoseok wishes Namjoon can see just how beautiful he is despite his flaws." 8600 words.
elevator pitch - sundaytimes  Hoseok/Namjoon, Yoongi/Jungkook. "Hoseok is a really good secretary, and it's making Namjoon's life very hard." cute! 2100 words.
is that a lob, because i'm about to smash you - jonghyun  Hoseok/Namjoon. "“You don’t know tennis,” Taehyung finally repeats slowly, staring at Hoseok. “But you do know tennis.” “Not to him,” Hoseok clarifies. “I’m someone who just... plays for fun, and isn’t good at it. Needs tutoring.” He can see all the gears in Taehyung’s head moving, piecing each part of Hoseok’s plan together, until the light bulb finally goes off. “You’re getting him to tutor you. You’re getting... He’s tutoring you in tennis. An Olympian?” Taehyung’s facade finally cracks. “You’re... You have a tennis tutor!” He cries out, slapping his knee in delight. “You’re flirting! By pretending to be bad at tennis! You!”" some tennis errors but cute. 22,500 words.
Good For Business - moonsuns  Namjoon/Hoseok. "Namjoon has always said that Hoseok is good for business." florist namjoon needs a date to jimin and Tae's wedding. 12,500 words.
Wonder. - syubology  Hoseok/Namjoon. "Tipsy boys try to find their hotel room while Hoseok spouts an endless stream of terrible pick-up lines and Namjoon looks great in a suit. (Of course he does.)" 9700 words.
i only have eyes for you - ienveeus   Namjoon/Hoseok. "‘What would you do without me?’ Hoseok asks, smiling big and bright and Namjoon really shouldn’t stare too long. ‘I’d rather not think about it,’ Namjoon says and Hoseok doesn’t notice the way Namjoon looks at him, how his eyes soften and how he loses his words as he watches laughter curve Hoseok’s lips. Or, alternatively, the one in which Namjoon's dreams become reality, but it isn't as sweet as he thought it would be." love potion and tattoos. 22,100 words.
Good Job (with a G and a J) - taetaetiger (sexyvanillatiger)  Hoseok/Namjoon. Namjoon is Hoseok's tutor. praise kink. 14,600 words.
Confessions - aroo  Hoseok/Namjoon. "Hoseok gets a confession in the form of a love letter, and Namjoon teaches him how to practice kissing girls." 5100 words.
lit - deuxoiseaux  Namjoon/Hoseok. "The dangling silver adjustment chain on the choker sparkles in the morning sunlight, and Hoseok is struck dumb, reverent, watching Namjoon's fingertips on the delicate clasp." ""Not lonely, not really," Namjoon sighs, reaching out to rub his thumb over the exposed skin of Hoseok's hip where his shirt has ridden up a bit. "Not anymore. I'm glad you're here, Hoseok-ah." Hoseok peers at Namjoon through his fringe, the corners of his lips curved into a gentle smile that shows off his dimples." Slice of life. 2 stories, 4900 words.
why don't you figure (my heart) out - dollyeo  Hoseok/Namjoon. "It's not that Hoseok really needs to sleep with Namjoon, he really doesn't. It's just that it keeps happening all the damn time." They are housemates who are basically married and don't realise it. 14,000 words.
Glitch series - ienveeus Otherland/cyberpunk AU, they're rival hackers who flirt shamelessly.  ambitious AF and i admire it SO much. 82,000 words and 101,100 words in 2 stories.
and i’ll link my one (1) namseok:
The Monster Under Your Bed There's a monster under Hoseok's bed and Namjoon has no idea what he's meant to do about it. 6000 words.
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They just finished a SanderSides and Logan asked Virgil how he could help him deal with flying since they were heading to Australia soon. The others were still there and agreed that they should know. He gave them wide eyes and said,
“Wait, do you guys not know about the killer lizards who pilot planes?”
At first they laughed because they were under the impression that he was joking to make it seem like no big deal but when his face didn’t change they realized he was being legitimate.
Patton goes over and holds his head saying things like,
“You’re serious?
Oh my goodness, Im so sorry.
Who’s cruel enough to tell you these things?”
Logan and Roman realize that it must have been Deceit and Fear that lied to him for fun. They would have reveled in his reactions. This moment made them realize how much time they spent without Virgil. It was upsetting to think about. He was part of their famILY now.
Roman sacrificed his Disney movie time for Virgil to watch The Black Cauldron, Logan took time to learn vocabulary words, and Patton is just his sunshine. This would have to change a bit. Logan said goodbye to Thomas and sunk the group into the Mind palace.
Logan sat the others down on the couch.
“Okay. Virgil, we’re going to start teaching you the facts about the world. For once, I’m not going to bore you with a list to try and figure out the multitude of things you were lied to about, but I need you to express confusion about things so we can help you understand.”
Patton and Roman looked both surprised and proud. Lists were Logans THING. Like, most the books in his room have a list as a bookmark.
“Wait, so planes don’t have killer lizards as pilots? How do you know? You never see them, and what if they’re cloaked somehow..”
Logan kneels down to hold Virgils face and says with full assurance,
“Dear, I promise there are no Killer Lizards on planes. They wouldn’t be able to communicate with Humans and certainly wouldn’t be aware enough to fly a plane. Also, I don’t believe the world possesses such cloaking technology, as you mentioned.”
Patton snapped a picture during this exchange and made it his wallpaper. Logan and Virgil see the flash and flush. They both complain about pictures without consent. Roman wanted the photo, too. Patton decided he wanted to make this a game.
This resulted in two minutes of Virgil and Logan watching the the Roman chase Patton around like a lunatic. It resulted in Roman cornering Patton on a wall. This simply couldn’t be ignored when Patton was blushing hard and Roman looked smug. There was a flash and now Virgil looked smug.
The two look over and blush themselves once they realize they’ve been duped. Virgil’s eyes widen when he sees the looks on their faces, now the two are chasing Virgil for the pictures. They eventually all gave up and lay together on the floor. Logan, at first, wanted to suggest a cleaner option but decided against it for once.
Virgil and Roman look at each other from across the other two and pull out their phones. They now all had their own unique wallpapers. They just laid there content for awhile before remembering their original task.
“So Virgil, Is there anything else you were told about planes along the same line as ‘killer lizards’?”
He blushed a bit and said,
“They told me that if you got unlucky enough you’d have to sit in coach where people in the even numbered seats will kiss the people in the odd numbered seats whenever they wanted”
Logan looked greatly upset, as did Roman.
“People should never kiss without consent unless they are confessing love.”
“The seats on Planes are not numbered.”
Patton just frowned at the fact that the dark sides probably took advantage of young Virgil’s naïvety. He rolled across Logan (causing him to grunt out of pain) to Virgil and gave him a kiss on the forehead.
“You are precious and them using that against you to lie about the real world was cruel. Do I have permission to punch Deceit in the face next time we see him?”
Virgil immediately shook his head No with Logan and Roman giving him shocked faces.
“Patton, I believe you are the one who says Violence is never the answer.”
“That’s when people aren’t purposefully taking a highly sensitive person and making them scared of everyday things because they are FrudgerMuckers. No one hurts my babies.”
The others understand and they decide to get up. Logan asks Virgil if, “Just to get some basics down”, he could compose a list and give it to him to fill out. Instead of the expected response of ‘No cuz that’s boring.’ he nodded.
“If they really lied about all this stuff than I wanna know what the real world’s like. If it isn’t actually as scary as it sounds. Speaking of scary, is it true that the statue of liberty will eat any birds that get too close to it’s mouth? Poor birds...”
Virgil was still anxiety, so they expect a certain degree of darkness when saying stuff like this, but nowadays he’s rarely anxious without a clear and decisive reason to be. The group as a whole spends so much time loving him.
This has led to more and more moment like this. Ones where he’s just absolutely adorable. His eyes are wide and bright with curiosity while his form is slightly smaller from still being afraid that it’s true. His sympathy towards the birds give him almost a cat like frown.
The others simply die and give him a group hug. Not really understanding why, Virgil manages to wiggle out of it. Though he does enjoy the hugging, he needs to breathe.
“Wait, does this mean that Lady liberty doesn’t eat birds?”
The others laugh and confirm that she doesn’t. It becomes routine to have Virgil ask a bunch of random questions about things now. About a week later, Logan is making sandwiches for himself and Virgil, who is sitting on the counter. This has become normal lately, Virgil hanging with Logan was already frequent, but just asking questions.
“Do squids have teeth?”
“Yes, they do. Who told you that?”
“oh, well then Deceit’s terrified of squid. He apparently only tells the truth when he’s scared.”
Logan took this information and made sure to remember it. This was to be passed to Roman who would be able to hold a squid in his room until they needed it. In his decision making, he did not anticipate at all for the next question.
“Does sex really only happen with inanimate objects?”
Logan immediately turns around and drags Virgil to Roman’s room. Without knocking, and knowing that Patton was also inside, he pushes Virgil into the room and practically yells,
“Virgil needs to be taught about sex so you two are the best candidates.”
He didn’t want to explain sex to Virgil cuz he was more than enough attracted to him and the whole process would lead to thoughts he could not contain if in the presence of the man he liked.
Rest Chapter 1 Here
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givemebtscenarios · 6 years
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Enemies with Benefits(Mark Tuan)
Words: 2,686 Request:can I have a Mark tuan smut where he falls in love with his enemy with benefits? Please and thank you!
I hope you like it, hun!!
You had hated him. You had hated his hair. You had hated his eyes. You had hated his smile. You had hated his entire face. And you had hated the body to go with it. You had hated the way he talked. You had hated his aura. You had hated his personality. You had hated him. You had hated Mark Tuan. From the moment you saw him, you instantly didn't like him. The way he carried himself.
It had filled you up with anger. You couldn't stand to be in the same room with him. The words that came out of his mouth annoying you with every syllable they carried. Being best friends with Jackson had it's benefits. For one, he's Jackson. That should be enough. But, being best friends with Jackson also had it's downfalls. Like having to put up with Mark.
The boys had moved you in with them about a year ago. You all felt like family, so they gladly agreed to let you have your own room while they shared together. It worked perfectly. You had your privacy, and somehow, with the way they worked together, they still had theirs. Jackson made often visits to your bedroom at night if he knew you were up. And plenty of times, he ended up falling asleep in your bed. That was until almost 3 months ago.
You were laying in bed, going between watching tv and scrolling through your Instagram when you heard a knock on your door. Your eyes furrowed. It definitely wasn't Jackson; he'd just barge right in no matter what you were doing. You got up, your tank top riding up your stomach a little and walked to the door. When you opened it, you saw Mark.
"What?" you asked, your face falling and a disappointed look spread over it. He walked in, pushing you to the side. He turned back around to face you, a smirk playing on his lips. "Look, we both know what this is, so why don't we just go ahead and get it over with?" he asked, looking into your eyes. A look of confusion spread over your face.
"What this is? What exactly is this?" you asked, crossing your arms over your stomach. "You hate me, I hate you. But, the only reason we hate each other is because we're attracted to each other." he said. You scoffed, trying not to laugh in his face at his accusation. You attracted to him? No. Never.
"I'm not attracted to you, Mark, I just...you know, fucking hate you." you told him bluntly, scowling when the smirk on his face grew. "You only hate me because you want me. Admit it." he said. Your eyes hesitated on his for a moment. You laughed, his face warping into confusion. "Believe it or not, not every girl is swooning over you." you said.
He grinned, sitting down on the chair in front of your desk opposite your bed. "You mean to tell me that I don't get every girls panties wet when I lick or bite my lip?" he asked, leaning back against the chair. You walked over, sitting down on the edge of the bed and looked at him again.
You looked him up and down, biting your lip which caused another smirk to grow on his face. You slowly stood up, walking over to him before straddling his lap, leaning in slowly to his ear. His hands went to your hips, squeezing slightly as you heard his breath hitch in his throat. You grinned before placing your mouth by his ear.
"That's exactly what I'm saying." you said as you stood up, walking back over to your bed and grabbing the book off your nightstand, turning to the page where your bookmark was and started to read. You felt him staring at you. Felt the daggers being driven into your body by his eyes. The feeling made your grin, biting your lip to keep from laughing.
You heard him stand up, and you thought he had walked out of your bedroom, your face was hidden by the book so you couldn't actually see him. You let out a yelp when you felt his hands wrap around your ankles and tug you down the bed until your legs hung off the edge. You threw your book to the side, sitting up to face him.
You had to look down to look into his eyes. He was on his knees in front of you, looking up with his lip caught between his teeth. The sight nearly made you melt. No. No, you couldn't be feeling this. Not towards Mark. The only person on this Earth who you truly hated. Anyone but him.
"Tell me yes. Tell me you want it so I can give it to you." he said, gripping your thighs in his hands. The feeling caused you to lose your breath as you looked down at him. Did you want to say yes? Did you want him to give it to you like he wanted? With one more look down at him, his chest moving up and down as his breathing got faster, you knew your answer. Yes.
You nodded and immediately, his hands went to the waistband of your shorts and panties, pulling them down before throwing them onto the floor. He leaned up, pressing his hand onto your chest and pushing your back on the bed, your legs still dangling off the edge as his head came closer and closer between your thighs.
And that's how it started. Whatever you and Mark were. Nightly visits from Mark when everyone had went to sleep became a routine. You still hated each other. More than you could ever try to explain. But at night, you loved each other’s bodies more than you hated their personality.
There wasn’t a night where Mark didn’t leave you shaking and satisfied as he pulled his boxers and pants back on, not even trying to slip inside his shirt as he opened the door, sending you a wink before walking out and to his room. As soon as sex was over, you wanted away from each other.
You didn’t want to spend more time than necessary. The boys tried to get you to hang out together, but if you weren’t fucking, you had nothing to do with each other. “You guys have got to stop this. It’s insane. We love you both and we know you love us, why is it so hard to love each other?” JB asked one day.
“There’s just some people you’re not meant to get along with.” you told him, shrugging your shoulders. JB sighed and turned his attention back to the tv after having to break up another argument between you and Mark. Friday’s were mandatory group days. You spent all day together to unwind from the week.
But lately, something has changed. Mark didn’t start an argument everytime you were in the same room. In fact, he opted to take the seat beside you, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye every chance he got. You caught every glance, giving yourself away when you smiled.
You felt him chuckle and continued watching the movie. You felt his hand land on your thigh and you looked at him, but his face was still facing the tv. You slowly glided your hands on top of his and he interlocked your fingers together. You smiled slightly and you saw the corner of his lip pull up into a smile.
It didn’t go unnoticed by the boys, either. JB always gave you shit for starting to get close to Mark. Arguments seemed less and less each day. Heated words and stares turned to laughing and playful remarks towards each other. And they were eating it up.
They were glad there were no more burdens in the house. It felt like a huge weight had been lifted. Over time though, you started liking Mark, getting slightly jealous when he talked about the girls he had tried talk to, or fans that requested kisses on the cheek at fansigns.
You tried to ignore it. You tried to ignore the lurch your stomach gave you when he secretly held your hand under covers during move nights. The sex sessions every night ended up turning into regular visits just laying or sitting on your bed, talking about random things that popped into your head.
You were getting close. Too close. And it worried you. What if he didn’t feel the same and you were left looking like an idiot in front of everyone? What if you confessed and he didn’t feel the same so you lost what you had now? You couldn’t bare it.
You were laying in bed, looking up at the ceiling when you heard the familiar knock. You didn’t know why he continued to feel the need to knock on your door since you were becoming just as close as you and Jackson. “Come in!” you yelled, sitting up and looking at the door.
“Hey, ready for the movie?” he asked, holding up Train to Busan. You nodded eagerly; it was one of your favorite Korean movies. Even though you always cried at the end. And he never failed to make fun of you for it, which is why he always chose to watch it.
He slid it into the system and laid back on your bed, his head resting on the pillows and you started the movie. “Come back here with me.” he said as you felt him tug on the hem of your shirt. You sighed and laid back, him moving closer to you until his head was on your chest.
“You know, normally, it’s the other way around.” you said, laughing. He laughed along with you and nodded his head. “Yeah, but you have more padding.” he said, grinning. “I’m gonna let that comment slide and pay you back for that later.” you told him causing him to laugh.
In the middle of the movie, you noticed he hadn’t said one word since his ‘padding’ comment and you found it odd. He normally wouldn’t be quiet when he was with you. How he was on camera and how he was at home was completely different.
“Are you okay?” you asked, looking down at him and causing him to look up into your eyes. “Of course, it’s just a good movie.” he said, nodding. You accepted his answer and looked back towards the tv. But, something felt off about the way he looked at you.
Towards the end of the movie, you felt his hand on your thigh again and you looked down, your lip between your teeth when he trailed it upwards. Your breath hitched when it continued, running between your legs and up to your stomach. “M-mark” you stuttered out.
And just like that, he was on you. His lips pressed urgent kisses against your neck, his tongue darting out as he bit and nipped your flesh, soothing it afterwards. Your arms went to his back, digging your fingertips in and causing a groan to leave his lips.
He slid his hands underneath your shirt, pulling it up to your chest. He groaned when he saw you weren’t wearing a bra and moved his hips against yours, his pants rubbing gloriously along your shorts clad core. Your hands went down to pull down the front of his sweatpants.
He hooked his fingers in the waistband of your shorts and pulled them down, throwing them onto the floor. “Tell me you want it.” he said, biting your neck. “’I want it, Mark. I want it so bad.” you said, already breathless and craving more. He reached down and tugged your shorts and panties down, throwing them to the side.
He opened your legs, biting his lip when he saw how wet you were, and ducked down to lick a thick stripe up your slit, your hands going to his hair and tugging. “Fuck, Mark. Don’t tease me.” you told him. “To the point?” he asked, winking at you. “Yes, to the fucking point, please.” you begged.
He chuckled and pulled his pants down to his ankles, kicking them off onto the floor, landing in a pile with a thud. He crawled back up to you, his hands gathering yours and pinning them above your head. “Keep them up there.” he instructed. You nodded and looked down, watching as he grabbed the base of his cock and lined it with your entrance.
You took a deep breath and waited for him to thrust into you, but it never came. “Mark, what the fuck rea-” you began, but were cut off by him pounding into you, the tip of his cock hitting your gspot immediately. “Oh my fucking God, Mark.” you moaned out.
You went to grab at his back, but remembered what he had told you. He groaned, his head coming to rest in the crook of your neck as he pounded into you, the sound of skin on skin echoing throughout the room and filling your ears with pure lust. 
He reached up, interlacing your fingers before speeding up, his hips slamming into yours repeatedly. You felt the slow brimming fire come to life in the bottom of your stomach and you squeezed your eyes shut. “Mark...I can’t I’m gonna...” you started, but he pulled out of you, causing your eyes to shoot open.
“What the actual fuck Tuan?!” you yelled, clenching your fists.He grinned and bent down, his mouth closing around one of your nipples, a shocked moan coming from your mouth as you felt him swirl his tongue around it and slightly suck, letting go with a loud pop.
You wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him closer to you, trying to hint that you wanted him back inside you. The fire had died down and you were writhing underneath him, going mentally insane. “Mark, please.” you begged. The teasing had gotten the best of him and he obeyed.
He slid back into you, a groan leaving the both of you when he felt your tight pussy around his cock. “Fuck, Y/N.” he moaned in your ear before dropping his mouth back down to your neck. If he kept this up, you were going to look like a leopard with all the spots he’s leaving on you.
“Y/N, please tell me you’re close. I can’t last much longer. It feels too fucking good, please.” it was his turn to beg. And you realized you had him right where you wanted him. You smirked as you rolled the two of you over, you on top of him as he looked up at you.
He groaned at the sight of your breasts bouncing as you rode him, your body leaning back to use his knees as support. He clenched the sheets beside him, trying to control his orgasm, refusing to cum before you did. You sped up, the fire growing bigger and bigger each time you sunk down on his cock.
“Mark! Mark, I’m gonna....I’m gonna....” you started before being cut off by your orgasm rushing through you, your juices running over his cock and onto his hips before hitting the sheets. Your pussy clenching around him caused him to run into his own, his breath hitching in his throat as he let out cut up moans.
He twitched slightly beneath you before you pulled off of him and laid down beside him on the bed. He looked over at you and smiled, the picture warming your heart to no end. “I love you.” he said quietly. So quiet, you weren’t even sure if you had heard him correctly.
You looked up at him, wide eyed. “What?” you asked, shocked. “I love you. I don’t know why it took me so long to realize the only reason I treated you the way I did was because I was scared.” he admitted. You grinned and pressed a kiss to his lips. Soft and gentle. Unlike the others. “I love you, too.” you told him.
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gayghosttt · 6 years
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I wanna hear your answers to your questions thingie ☺️
Thank you I am avoiding studying for 3 finals rn lmao
1: when you have cereal, do you have more milk than cereal or more cereal than milk? More cereal, I do not like milk at all it makes me feel sick Every time lmao
2: do you like the feeling of cold air on your cheeks on a wintery day? Y e s I love being cold
3: what random objects do you use to bookmark your books? mm usually a sticky note
4: how do you take your coffee/tea? I don’t really like tea but I usually have some kind of cold coffee or with cream and 2 sugar if its hot
5: are you self-conscious of your smile?  mmm kind of yes
6: do you keep plants? I don’t currently have any but I love having them
7: do you name your plants?  yes!!
8: what artistic medium do you use to express your feelings? currently more words than visual art
9: do you like singing/humming to yourself? sometimes, I mostly do it in my head though
10: do you sleep on your back, side, or stomach?  I almost always sleep on my left side but I sometimes sleep on my right side or back
11: what's an inner joke you have with your friends? long boy, CRACKS PANTS, What if i was Straight
12: what's your favorite planet? mm I actually don’t know a whole lot about any of them but I think neptune is Very pretty
13: what's something that made you smile today? my friend paige and I sent each other christmas cards and I got hers in the mail today!!
14: if you were to live with your best friend in an old flat in a big city, what would it look like? there would be his nerdy video game stuff Everywhere and my books and movies everywhere and a little bit of glitter on everything lmao
15: go google a weird space fact and tell us what it is! it is quiet Everywhere in space
16: what's your favorite pasta dish? lasagna is the actual love of my life
17: what color do you really want to dye your hair?  BLUE OR DARK PURPLE
18: tell us about something dumb/funny you did that has since gone down in history between you and your friends and is always brought up. I do alot of dumb things lmao but last semester when I lived in a residence hall with my friends i was always shouting IM GAY down the hallway or kicking my leg up high to put it on the window ledge
19: do you keep a journal? what do you write/draw/ in it? I am very forgetful so I never keep a journal or sketchbook consistently 
20: what's your favorite eye color? brown
21: talk about your favorite bag, the one that's been to hell and back with you and that you love to pieces. I don’t really have a bag that’s lasted a super long time but my little blue makeup bag used to be my sister’s and I’ve been using it since high school 
22: are you a morning person? If I’ve slept enough then yes but when I have classes at 8 am,, no
23: what's your favorite thing to do on lazy days where you have 0 obligations?  sleep in and watch movies
24: is there someone out there you would trust with every single one of your secrets? mmm probably Steven? He knows most of them already
25: what's the weirdest place you've ever broken into? THE CHURCH PARKING LOT WE GOT LOCKED INTO TOGETHER AT NIGHT
26: what are the shoes you've had for forever and wear with every single outfit? I rotate between like 3 pairs but I have some beat up black high tops I’ve had since high school that I love
27: what's your favorite bubblegum flavor? usually just minty gum
28: sunrise or sunset?  sunset
29: what's something really cute that one of your friends does and is totally endearing? steven calls me everytime he’s driving home from school and we always say I love you before hanging up its gay and i love him v much
30: think of it: have you ever been truly scared? yes a few times
31: what is your opinion of socks? do you like wearing weird socks? do you sleep with socks? do you confine yourself to white sock hell? really, just talk about socks. okay I get judged for it alot but I wear socks 24/7 I have Too many socks and theyre all cute and yes I wear socks to bed and I wear them all the fricking time I am uncomfy being barefoot
32: tell us a story of something that happened to you after 3AM when you were with friends. Nothing recently but last semester I used to stay up until like 4 am with alot of my friends watching movies and one time like 10 of us watched star wars and had snacks and had a big cuddle pile sleepover on the floor
33: what's your fave pastry? chocolate croissants 
34: tell us about the stuffed animal you kept as a kid. what is it called? what does it look like? do you still keep it? mm I have a bunch still bc alot of them were given to me by someone sepcial/ for special reasons and one of my favorites is a pink bear with a dodgers hat that was from my dad when I was a kid
35: do you like stationary and pretty pens and so on? do you use them often? I do! If I have stationary I’ll use it to send people mail
36: which band's sound would fit your mood right now? currently I’m listening to lana del rey and its fitting
37: do you like keeping your room messy or clean?  I am an organized messy person so I am like half and half
38: tell us about your pet peeves! when people invite themselves over/ just show up without asking, opening doors without knocking, chewing with your mouth open
39: what color do you wear the most? black
40: think of a piece of jewelry you own: what's it's story? does it have any meaning to you? I have a black ring I wear everyday that was from my sister and it makes me think of her since we don’t currently live in the same house while im at college
41: what's the last book you remember really, really loving? How to remodel a man by w. bruce cameron, I found it at the library and got it just bc it sounded like a funny title and it was genuinely the funniest book I’ve ever read I loved it 
42: do you have a favorite coffee shop? describe it! Either 85 degrees down the street from me bc its really cute and the chocolate bread there is Amazing or coffee bean in my city cause it has a v nice atmosphere and the baristas all know my sister so they’re really friendly
43: who was the last person you gazed at the stars with? I have no idea actually
44: when was the last time you remember feeling completely serene and at peace with everything? ???????????
45: do you trust your instincts a lot?  I try to
46: tell us the worst pun you can think of.  earlier Aaron and I were roasting Morrissey and I said that when moz cancels shows/doesnt show up bc he’s sick its like he just sneezes once and then he’s like,,, oh my god am I,,, Still Ill
47: what food do you think should be banned from the universe?  tuna
48: what was your biggest fear as a kid? is it the same today? I don’t really remember tbh
49: do you like buying CDs and records? what was the last one you bought? yes!! last record was the Uni single release and its clear and v cool and the last cd was a paul mccartney one i think 
50: what's an odd thing you collect? pins mostly
51: think of a person. what song do you associate with them? I associate alot of music with a lot of people but one song that reminds me of you is little queenie by sad girl
52: what are your favorite memes of the year so far?  the one of the white guy making a confused face is maybe my fav
53: have you ever watched the rocky horror picture show? heathers? beetlejuice? pulp fiction? what do you think of them? rocky and heathers and beetlejuice yes and I love them all v much, I watched pulp fiction once at like 3 am and i slept through alot of it by accident so I cannot give an accurate opinion
54: who's the last person you saw with a true look of sadness on their face? my sister
55: what's the most dramatic thing you've ever done to prove a point? im not sure but my middle name is dramatic So
56: what are some things you find endearing in people? when they genuinely want to know about how your day was, when they remember something you said a long time ago, when they bring you something out of the blue because they know you like it
57: go listen to bohemian rhapsody. how did it make you feel? did you dramatically reenact the lyrics? yes alsways it is one of the best songs ever
58: who's the wine mom and who's the vodka aunt in your group of friends? why?  I don’t currently have a solid Group of friends but between us I would say you are probably wine mom and i am vodka aunt lmao
59: what's your favorite myth? I love a lot but rn I love the loch ness monster 
60: do you like poetry? what are some of your faves? yes but currently none are coming to mind lmao
61: what's the stupidest gift you've ever given? the stupidest one you've ever received? sometimes I give steven glitter bc i love it and he Hates it lmao but I’m not sure if I’ve ever really gotten a stupid gift?
62: do you drink juice in the morning? which kind? nope, usually just water
63: are you fussy about your books and music? do you keep them meticulously organized or kinda leave them be? organized, not necessarily alphabetical or anything but I like things by the same author or artist to be together 
64: what color is the sky where you are right now? black
65: is there anyone you haven't seen in a long time who you'd love to hang out with? alot of my high school and college pals
66: what would your ideal flower crown look like? mmm probably a lot of dark red roses and little white flowers
67: how do gloomy days where the sky is dark and the world is misty make you feel? kinda depends but usually I like them
68: what's winter like where you live? usually cold and kinda rainy but lately its still in the 80s and hot
69: what are your favorite board games? bingo always
70: have you ever used a ouija board? no and I Maybe would??
71: what's your favorite kind of tea? not super into tea but i don’t mind green tea
72: are you a person who needs to note everything down or else you'll forget it?  v much so
73: what are some of your worst habits? procrastinating, leaving water bottles on the floor, ignoring instructions 
74: describe a good friend of yours without using their name or gendered pronouns. they have brown hair and glasses and really pretty eyes and live in another country and are so sweet and remind me of a little fox
75: tell us about your pets! I don’t have any but my siblings both have fish and barry is my fav little guppy even though he’s a rude drama queen
76: is there anything you should be doing right now but aren't? studying for my finals
77: pink or yellow lemonade? both but I like pink alot
78: are you in the minion hateclub or fanclub? h a t e
79: what's one of the cutest things someone has ever done for you? one of my friends used to make me mixtape cds alot
80: what color are your bedroom walls? did you choose that color? if so, why? at college they’re just white bc its a dorm but at home they’re blue and my dad and I painted them secretly one summer lmao
81: describe one of your friend's eyes using the most abstract imagery you can think of. looks like the inside of a blue gelpen
82: are/were you good in school? I try to be, I’ve always had a hard time in math and science classes but I’m good with artsy and english classes
83: what's some of your favorite album art? I have,,, to many to pick from
84: are you planning on getting tattoos? which ones? currently no? I’m very indecisive so I’m not sure what I would get bc I would want it to have a special meaning
85: do you read comics? what are your faves? not really but I wouldn’t mind
86: do you like concept albums? which ones? probably alot but ziggy stardust and sgt pepper come to mind first
87: what are some movies you think everyone should watch at least once in their lives? eraserhead, big fish, and casablanca
88: are there any artistic movements you particularly enjoy? mmm yes probably alot but rn I really like zines
89: are you close to your parents? my dad yes my mom is very up and down
90: talk about your one of you favorite cities. I really love the Manhattan Beach area it’s always made me really happy since I was a kid something about it just always feels welcoming and familiar to me
91: where do you plan on traveling this year? not sure
92: are you a person who drowns their pasta in cheese or a person who barely sprinkles a pinch? depends on the pasta but generally I like alot of cheese
93: what's the hairstyle you wear the most? It’s always the same fluffy messy curly besides when I put it up in a little ponytail sometimes
94: who was the last person you know to have a birthday? my friend tori from high school
95: what are your plans for this weekend? going back home and Finally sleeping alot
96: do you install your computer updates really quickly or do you procrastinate on them a lot? it usually takes me about a week to finally stop being lazy and do them
97: myer briggs type, zodiac sign, and hogwarts house? I think I was ensj or insj or something like that last time i checked, I’m a gemini and I have no idea about my hogwarts house lmao
98: when's the last time you went hiking? did you enjoy it? probably a few years ago and it was pretty okay
99: list some songs that resonate to your soul whenever you hear them. there are a Lot but lust for life by the band girls always reminds me of myself and i’m listening to flatsound rn and alot of his music hits me hard bc I feel like that alot
100: if you were presented with two buttons, one that allows you to go 5 years into the past, the other 5 years into the future, which one would you press? why? as much as I would like to have things back from my past I would probably say future, I’d like to skip ahead a bit to when some things have changed and are hopefully better
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1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,9,10,11,12,13,14,15,16,17,18,19,20,21,22,23,24,25,26,27,28,29,30,31,32,33,34,35,36,37,38,39,40,41,42,43,44,45,46,47,48,49,50,51,52,53,54,55,56,57,58,59,60,61,62,63,64,65,66,67,68,69,70,71,72,73,74,75,76,77,78,79,80,81,82,83,84,85,86,87,88,89,90,91,92,93,94,95,96,97,98,99,100 (lol, I'm sorry)
Holy mother of- alright, I did this to myself. Answers are below the cut!
1: when you have cereal, do you have more milk than cereal or more cereal than milk? More cereal! I’m hella lactose intolerant so I rarely even have milk.
2: do you like the feeling of cold air on your cheeks on a wintery day? Sometimes, it depends if I was already too cold or not.
3: what random objects do you use to bookmark your books? Usually I use drawings or a bit of cardboard.
4: how do you take your coffee/tea? I take my tea with a little honey and my coffee with lots of flavored creamer.
5: are you self-conscious of your smile? VERY MUCH YES
6: do you keep plants? Cacti mostly:)
7: do you name your plants? YEP
8: what artistic medium do you use to express your feelings? Pencil or acrylic, though I’m digging clay now.
9: do you like singing/humming to yourself? I spend almost every hour of every day singing, it’s one of my absolute favorite things!
10: do you sleep on your back, side, or stomach? back or side depending on how my jaw is doing.
11: what's an inner joke you have with your friends? OH GoD, so many...
12: what's your favorite planet? Mars >3
13: what's something that made you smile today? I got to spend all day with my pupper AND I got called for an interview tomorrow.
14: if you were to live with your best friend in an old flat in a big city, what would it look like? Brick walls, lots of floor space for art, ect. a window seat, high ceilings and a cozy atmosphere please and thank you.
15: go google a weird space fact and tell us what it is! 99% of our solar systems mass is the sun. :3
16: what's your favorite pasta dish? Baked Penne!
17: what color do you really want to dye your hair? It’s already blue but I wanna do it red, orange and yellow at some point for a crazy fire look.
18: tell us about something dumb/funny you did that has since gone down in history between you and your friends and is always brought up. The time I jumped off the lid to my friends hot tub and hit my head, knocking myself unconscious and almost dying.
19: do you keep a journal? what do you write/draw/ in it? Kinda, it’s mostly art and random facts??
20: what's your favorite eye color? Blue
21: talk about your favorite bag, the one that's been to hell and back with you and that you love to pieces. My art bag that looks like a freaking paint towel at this point.
22: are you a morning person? Ye!
23: what's your favorite thing to do on lazy days where you have 0 obligations? Write, draw, take a bath and bake.
24: is there someone out there you would trust with every single one of your secrets? Yes, my bestfren Chloe -w-
25: what's the weirdest place you've ever broken into? An abandoned house down the block while chasing a cat. There was some guy sleeping in there.
26: what are the shoes you've had for forever and wear with every single outfit? My red Converse!
27: what's your favorite bubblegum flavor? Wintergreen
28: sunrise or sunset? Sunset, for sure.
29: what's something really cute that one of your friends does and is totally endearing? She blushes in her ears and gets really shy around guys.
30: think of it: have you ever been truly scared? Umm, yes. When my mom had emergency surgery.
31: what is your opinion of socks? do you like wearing weird socks? do you sleep with socks? do you confine yourself to white sock hell? really, just talk about socks. OKAY, I LIKE SOCKS, I WEAR EM ALL THE TIME AND THEY NEVER MATCH. BOOM.
32: tell us a story of something that happened to you after 3AM when you were with friends. I went to down my iced tea and found out too late that it was my dads whiskey and I got drunk off my ass.
33: what's your fave pastry? oooh, I love pastries with all my heart, probably lemon bars.
34: tell us about the stuffed animal you kept as a kid. what is it called? what does it look like? do you still keep it? It’s in my room somewhere, a little weasel puppet named “wonder weasel” and I made him a mask.
35: do you like stationary and pretty pens and so on? do you use them often? Yes, I keep at least one on me at all times.
36: which band's sound would fit your mood right now? Panic!
37: do you like keeping your room messy or clean? I reaaaaally like it clean but it never happens. I’m a pig.
38: tell us about your pet peeves! I hate when people never show up on time, ignore me when I’m talking to check their phones and I hate when people pretend to like me.
39: what color do you wear the most? Black
40: think of a piece of jewelry you own: what's it's story? does it have any meaning to you? It’s a bumble bee necklace my sister got me and I love it.
41: what's the last book you remember really, really loving? The book thief.
42: do you have a favorite coffee shop? describe it! It’s a local place here and they make really pretty pastries and coffee, it’s very modern inside but it’s cozy and everyone’s super nice. It smells like autumn leaves and spices.
43: who was the last person you gazed at the stars with? myself???
44: when was the last time you remember feeling completely serene and at peace with everything? Last week in a bath tbh
45: do you trust your instincts a lot? Yes and no? It kinda depends but I usually second guess myself.
46: tell us the worst pun you can think of. I changed my ipods name to titanic. It’s syncing now. (I hate myself)
47: what food do you think should be banned from the universe? LETTUCE
48: what was your biggest fear as a kid? is it the same today? Burning alive, and it kinda is kinda isn’t still.
49: do you like buying CDs and records? what was the last one you bought? I like to but I never have money, the last one was a panic! at the disco cd.
50: what's an odd thing you collect? Fish????? I have five tanks in my room ok????
51: think of a person. what song do you associate with them? Can’t help falling in love with you and phantom of the opera (my gf) IM CHEESEY
52: what are your favorite memes of the year so far? THEY ALL SUCK
53: have you ever watched the rocky horror picture show? heathers? beetlejuice? pulp fiction? what do you think of them? I’ve seen all but pulp fiction and I adore them all, beetlejuice is one of my favorite movies.
54: who's the last person you saw with a true look of sadness on their face? Besides myself idk
55: what's the most dramatic thing you've ever done to prove a point? I don’t even know honestly.
56: what are some things you find endearing in people? Their sense of humor, laugh and comfortableness.
57: go listen to bohemian rhapsody. how did it make you feel? did you dramatically reenact the lyrics? Doesn’t it always?!
58: who's the wine mom and who's the vodka aunt in your group of friends? why? My friend hates wine but is totally the wine mom, sooo that makes me the vodka aunt bc I only have one friend.
59: what's your favorite myth? Icarus
60: do you like poetry? what are some of your faves? YES! I love the raven, tyger and the tell tale heart??
61: what's the stupidest gift you've ever given? the stupidest one you've ever received? Socks for received I guess? Probably the dumbest thing I’ve given was a dirty shirt to my friend????
62: do you drink juice in the morning? which kind? Almost always, grape or orange usually. 
63: are you fussy about your books and music? do you keep them meticulously organized or kinda leave them be? I’m really particular about them and I don’t let anyone touch em.
64: what color is the sky where you are right now? Ink black.
65: is there anyone you haven't seen in a long time who you'd love to hang out with? My gf..; ;
66: what would your ideal flower crown look like? Seashells, blue flowers and tiny pink ones, probably a lil glitter.
67: how do gloomy days where the sky is dark and the world is misty make you feel? They feel relaxing to me.
68: what's winter like where you live? ITS LIKE A NEVER ENDING HELLL
69: what are your favorite board games? Fury of Dracula, d&d, ect.
70: have you ever used a ouija board? Yep! I own one.
71: what's your favorite kind of tea? cranberry??
72: are you a person who needs to note everything down or else you'll forget it? YES. My ADHD is scary bad ok.
73: what are some of your worst habits? Not eating healthily/not drinking enough, secluding myself.
74: describe a good friend of yours without using their name or gendered pronouns. Humorous, kind and caring and wonderful and supporting. The most fantastic person to live.
75: tell us about your pets! OK!!!!!! I have three cats, a tabby (ponyo), a massive grey one(rory) and a smol floofy white and black one(lydia). I have four betta fish, Lafayette, Remus, Pietro, and Marvel. I have 12 guppy/platty and I could list their names but I wontttt, and my sweet pupper girl, Matilda
76: is there anything you should be doing right now but aren't? Writing requests..............
77: pink or yellow lemonade? Pink.
78: are you in the minion hateclub or fanclub? HATE
79: what's one of the cutest things someone has ever done for you? My girlfriend sent me chocolates and my fren bought me a bee pillow, they’re pretty great.
80: what color are your bedroom walls? did you choose that color? if so, why? Light purple and I didn’t choose them, my mom painted that room before she got sick so I kept it.
81: describe one of your friend's eyes using the most abstract imagery you can think of. Deep sand washing over dark beaches and charcoal mixed in a vat of dark clay.
82: are/were you good in school? No, not really. I listened tho
83: what's some of your favorite album art? Pretty odd, believers never die, infinity on high
84: are you planning on getting tattoos? which ones? I have two right now and I have MANY more planned.
85: do you read comics? what are your faves? OF COURSE, CAPTAIN AMERICA AND DEADPOOL, SANDMAN EVEN THO THAT DON’T REALLY COUNT.
86: do you like concept albums? which ones? um? Nirvana? Am I doing this right?
87: what are some movies you think everyone should watch at least once in their lives? Perks of being a wall flower, three idiots.
88: are there any artistic movements you particularly enjoy? All of them??
89: are you close to your parents? I like to think so
90: talk about your one of you favorite cities. Ohhh um, I dunno, probably Denver?? I’m really isolated.
91: where do you plan on traveling this year? I’m going to Denver for a concert and a huge road trip to California this summer to see my family.
92: are you a person who drowns their pasta in cheese or a person who barely sprinkles a pinch? It GoN DRoWN SOn
93: what's the hairstyle you wear the most? Down. It’s too short for anything.
94: who was the last person you know to have a birthday? My grandpa
95: what are your plans for this weekend? Hanging with my fren and watching shameless.
96: do you install your computer updates really quickly or do you procrastinate on them a lot? Sadly, I put them off until it does it automatically. I regret it every time.
97: myer briggs type, zodiac sign, and hogwarts house? Advocate, Taurus, hufflepuff! 
98: when's the last time you went hiking? did you enjoy it? Yesterday and I loved it.
99: list some songs that resonate to your soul whenever you hear them. Hamilton tbh, think of me, riptide and I found.
100: if you were presented with two buttons, one that allows you to go 5 years into the past, the other 5 years into the future, which one would you press? why? Five years into the past because I’m not fucking ready to grow up.
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