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padfootagain · 11 months

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Complicated

Hello everyone! I’m answering a request today that was sent a few weeks ago! This request was sent by an anon : “Y/n is a new one of the main cast in S&B(In her 20s) She has a crush on Ben. Anyways she doesn't show it ofc and she was afraid if she will fit with the cast members or not.Yn is a bit shy and introverted. And we know how close Jessei and Ben are but it kinda upsets her cause She's not that close with Ben?!? Idk if I'm portraying it well or not but can you write something like that?!?”

I haven’t included the detail of the reader’s age… simply because the occasion didn’t arise in the fic as I was writing it, I hope it’s okay. So… fluff and a little bit of angst because we are writing for pining idiots and a slightly jealous reader…

I hope you enjoy your fic anon! And I hope everyone else enjoys it too! Tell me what you think about it!

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Pairing: Ben Barnes x reader

Summary: Ben and you are working together on Shadow and Bone, and have grown closer and closer as the months flew by. But when you truly fall for him, everything becomes complicated…

Warnings: a slightly jealous reader. Some mutual pining. Lots of fluff.

Word count: 4171

Ben Barnes’s Masterlist – Main Masterlist

It’s complicated.

Everything is complicated.

Everything is a mess, and it’s all because of him.

You stare at Ben as he laughs, bubbly and merry and infectious…

You hate the way it makes you feel happy to see him that way. You hate that you can’t just walk over there, across the set, and kiss these lips of his that always seem to be calling for your own…

You can’t do it. You just can’t. It isn’t a possibility, because you’re working together, and he probably doesn’t even like you at all and…

You force your train of thoughts to stop. This is not the right place nor the right time to be contemplating your recent crush on your co-worker. Now, on the contrary, it is time to finish reading your lines one last time before being called for your scene.

But you’re distracted again when Archie nudges you.

“Hey, are you coming to Jessie’s party tonight?” he asks, shoving a small pastry into his mouth.

You smile at him, nodding your head.

“Sure, it sounds fun.”

You’re lying. Blatantly so. You’re not so much into parties like these, but you need to socialize to get along with your co-workers, and you want to fit in the cast. You’re only just arriving for this second season, after all. Even if the shooting has started several weeks ago, you’re still a little uncertain sometimes. But then again, maybe that’s because you always lack confidence…

“Awesome! It’ll be fun, you’ll see! Jessie always throws the best parties!”

You nod again, as if you knew what he is talking about, while already planning some fake excuses to go home early, and a strategy to remain as quiet and alone as possible during the event.

Damn, that introverted part of you really is a pain in the arse sometimes…

“Who’s coming? Everyone?” you ask, closing your script, aware that you will not be able to work before your scene now that your colleague has joined you.

“Yep! Having a hard time convincing our grandpa over there, though,” he jokes, nodding towards Ben. “He’s had a busy week, and he’s exhausted. But I’ll find a way to convince him, don’t worry. I want to get everyone coming tonight.”

“Nice!”

You hope he can manage to convince Ben. You truly do. Because… well, you have a crush on him, after all. A stupid, ridiculous, terribly serious crush on him. And if he can come tonight, the evening might not be so bad, after all…

Speaking of the devil…

Your heart quickens its pace as Ben approaches, a calm, comforting smile on his lips. He looks gentle and kind and a little mischievous, like he always does. He’s in full costume and make-up; dark scars running across his handsome features, and a long leathery coat embroidered with gold floating behind him. It doesn’t match, the scary and intimidating look against the softness in his dark eyes…

“What are you two troublemakers planning now?” he asks, his voice full of humour and teasing.

“Well, we’re talking about tonight. You know, the amazing party you’re planning on missing?” Archie answers.

“Ha… yes, at Jessie’s?”

“Yep!”

“I’ve had such a tiring week, I just want to sleep,” Ben admits.

He seems tempted nonetheless. After all, Jessie does throw the best parties.

“Come on! You don’t have to stay for too long, we’re used to you abandoning us before midnight. Come on, everyone but you has said yes already! Even Y/N is coming!”

Ben turns to you, hesitation intensifying on his features.

“You’re coming too?”

You nod.

“Yep! Sounds fun! You should come too. You can leave early, if you want. But it would be nice to have everyone around. Right, Archie?”

“Absolutely! Ben, you’re coming. That’s decided!”

Ben laughs, shaking his head.

“I haven’t said yes…”

“Now, come on. Y/N is asking you to come! Look at how disappointed she looks that you’re not coming…”

You feign a sad pout, batting your lashes, and Ben can’t refrain a laugh. He rolls his eyes but then again… if you’re coming…

Then, it gives him a perfect excuse to see you. He knows he shouldn’t think of you this way. Because this… silly, crazy, extremely intense crush he has on you can only make everything complicated. You’re working together, and you probably don’t even feel the same and…

… and yet, every time he sees you, his heart skips a beat. And he longs to see you, even if it’s just from across the room, and if he listened to himself, he would admit that he longs for far more than simply being near you…

But then again, it would make his life unbearably complicated. And you… you probably don’t feel the same, so why bother?

“Please, come to the party tonight!” you ask again, offering him a friendly smile. “You’re the person I know best in the cast, as we’ve had plenty of scenes together already… it’ll be less fun without you!”

Now, you’re looking at him with these pleading eyes, and you’re saying it’ll make you happy to see him there…

… how could he say no to that? How could he say no to you?

He heaves a sigh, but nods anyway.

“Alright, alright… I’ll come.”

“Yes!”

Archie and you share a high-five, while Ben keeps on laughing at the two of you.

But then again… if he can see you a little longer, outside of the studio, it’s worth the dark bags that will grow even more under his eyes…

Ben is blowing his cheeks, miming something big and round. You have no idea what he’s doing, and look at him with round eyes, scraping in every corner of your mind… what on Earth is he doing?

He adds a moustache with a finger under his nose and frowns hard, as if he’s angry and disdainful… Still, you’ve got no clue… it could be anyone…

His face changes back to his normal demeanour, and traces something that looks like a lightning bolt on his forehead…

And you got it! At last!

“Dursley! Vernon Dursley!”

Ben claps his hands and cheers, right as the timer rings. It was the last round of charades for the night, and as Ben comes to join you on the sofa, giving you a high-five for this last guess of yours, you’re all awaiting the final results.

You know the results are close… Jessie and Freddy have done an amazing job tonight as well. You wait for Calahan to count the last points, Danielle peering over his large shoulder to get a glimpse while she sips on her glass of red wine.

It’s merry. You’re happy to have come to the party, in the end. It’s still quite early, you know the mood is shifting to a more ‘partying’ colour, and you have no doubts that after this game, Kit is going to put on some music and start some kind of dancing competition. You know you’ll like this part of the night a little less, but so far, it’s almost 11 and you’re quite happy and at ease still.

Besides, Fortune decided to pair you up with Ben for this game, when you drew his name from one of Jessie’s hats. And as he sits down next to you, making the cushion bend a little under his weight, as he shifts next to you to get comfortable, as he leans forward to grab his glass of wine on the coffee table, as his shoulder brushes against yours with each of his movements…

Yes, the evening isn’t so bad, after all…

“Oh, we have some winners…” Calahan theatrically raises up his hands, picking the sheet of paper holding the results. “And the winners are… Ben and Y/N!”

Ben and you cheer, and you are quite surprised when he pulls you in a tight hug.

Warm. Safe. That’s the best way to describe his embrace, even if it lasts just a couple of seconds. It’s enough to make your head spin, your heart race under your ribs, you’re intoxicated already with his soft wooden smell…

But he pulls away soon, too soon… he has to. Breathing in your sweet perfume, and holding you close, feeling the air leaving your lungs to collide with his cheek and ear… it’s too much for him to handle. He’s already blushing, he can’t let you see how he feels…

It feels cold when he pulls away, empty. His embrace is filled with air again, and he hates it. You seemed to fit so well in his arms, your warmth spreading through his frame…

He pushes the thought away. This evening is nice, merry, full of light. He enjoys it. He knows that Kit will soon turn on the music, and he’ll soon be a little bit bored, as he won’t take part in the dancing. It’s alright, though. He hopes you won’t dance either. He hopes you’ll stay a little bit longer…

Around the two of you, people are teasing your team, saying you’ve cheated, laughing at your outraged faces. It’s fun and light-hearted.

The back of your hand brushes Ben’s as you shift on the couch, and your breath gets stuck in your throat. It’s electrifying, this sensation…

You need to stay a little longer to the party, just to socialize, to make sure you’ll fit in with the group. But you have to admit that you’re a little bit uncomfortable when Kit starts the music, and most people start dancing.

You decide that you deserve a little bit of intimacy, and excuse yourself to the bathroom.

You stay there a few minutes, just to recharge your social batteries a little. You’re hesitating between aiming for the kitchen or the sofa as you walk out the tiny room. The kitchen will be a little quieter, you reckon. But then again, Ben will probably be in the living room…

You’re smiling at the thought of talking to him again when you step in the living room. Everybody is dancing, except for Freddy and Amita who are chatting, sitting on the couch. You’re looking for Ben, but can’t spot him anywhere. He’s not dancing, and you’re not surprised. You aim for the kitchen.

He’s standing there alright. A glass in his hand, he’s leaning against the counter, laughing with Jessie. She leans against him, they’re standing against each other.

And you can’t help it. You wish you could stop the feeling from spreading through your veins, but you can’t. You wish you could stop yourself from being jealous, but you can’t…

Apparently, there’s nothing romantic between these two, but sometimes… like now… you envy their connection.

Because Ben doesn’t lean against you like that. He doesn’t laugh so hard with you. He doesn’t… he doesn’t act like that with you. And perhaps that’s yet another sign that he doesn’t see anything more than a friend in you…

You take a deep breath, turning around to face the dancing group again. The music is loud and pulsing. After seeing Ben like this… it’s a little too much…

“Hey, Y/N!”

You don’t turn around to face Ben, even if he’s calling you. Instead, you ignore him, act like you haven’t heard anything, and stride across the room. Your feet guide you to the front door, and you grab your coat as you hurry out of the apartment.

You feel ridiculous for feeling this way. You have no rights to be jealous, you’re nothing more than a friend to him. Still… still it hurts to see him so close to someone else…

“Y/N!”

You freeze. You’re waiting for the elevator, in the middle of the corridor. It smells of cigarettes, the white walls a little bit yellowed by nicotine and tobacco…

“Y/N? Where are you going?”

You turn around, at last. You can’t avoid it anymore. Ben is standing there, on the threshold of Jessie’s apartment. He’s frowning, staring at you. He doesn’t seem angry though, only taken aback.

The doors of the elevator open behind you, bathing your frame in a cold white light. They open fully with a little ‘ding’. You struggle to swallow, before you can speak, extending your arm inside the elevator to keep its doors open for you.

“I’m going home. I’m tired. Besides… dancing isn’t my strong suit so… better head out,” you explain, hoping that Ben won’t notice the way your voice is shaking.

He seems disappointed. If he wanted to hide his reaction, he’s bad at it. He gives you a smile anyway.

“Okay… Humm… Would you mind if I walked to the subway with you?”

“Don’t you want to stay a little longer?”

“Not really. I’m knackered. You had to convince me to come, remember?”

“Right… okay then.”

Ben disappears for a mere second, just to grab his coat. Soon, you’re entering the elevator together.

He has a shy but warm smile on his lips. He can’t really summon anything else right now. You’re standing right next to him, you don’t seem to mind that your shoulders and arms are brushing against each other. He does though. He minds terribly, because it makes his heart pounder in his chest, and he can’t breathe properly. He can feel butterflies starting their flight across his stomach, and he can’t take any more of it. He takes a step back.

It breaks your heart. The way he adds distance between the two of you, when earlier with Jessie he…

You push the thought away as the doors open again, and you hurry out of the tiny space in favour of the large hall of the building, then the street.

It’s springtime in Budapest, the air is still chilly despite the warmth that has started to rise during the day. But now, it’s night time and the air is cold and makes you shiver despite your coat. You welcome the feeling though, it makes you forget Ben’s warmth…

“You’re calling for a cab?” Ben asks, standing right behind you.

But you shake your head.

“No, I’ll just walk for a bit. Then take the bus.”

“Alright…”

“You’re calling a taxi?”

“No… No, I thought… do you mind if I join you?”

“No… not at all.”

His smile is brighter this time, and you can’t help the way it makes your heart skip a beat. You match his smile without even noticing…

Soon, you’ve settled in a leisurely pace. None of you seem willing to hurry. Why would you? You both long to spend as much time together as possible…

Ben is the first to break the silence that has settled between the two of you. In the distance, traffic hums in a regular pattern. There is a rhythm to the night. Still busy despite the darkness and the glimmering lights. It’s a little shushed though, distant. It comes only out of the large streets and boulevards, the small alleys are quiet, sleepy. As you walk further down the street, bathed in the golden streetlights, you tighten your hold on your coat. The wind pushes papers abandoned on the street, they roll in a shuffling noise that matches the rustling of the tree leaves.

“Any plans for the weekend?” Ben asks, burying his hands in the pockets of his black jacket.

“No… just sleep. A lot of rest. And some lines to learn,” you give him an amused smile, and he chuckles.

“Yeah, I feel your pain.”

“What about you?”

“Same, basically. Have a busy week coming again.”

“Yeah… they seem determined to make you work crazy hours these days.”

“It’s okay. I’m used to it by now. I just hope to catch on some sleep this weekend, so I won’t have to hide these dark bags under my eyes with too much make up.”

You chuckle, and he wishes you could laugh. A full-on laugh. He likes the sound of these…

Jessie’s words come back to his mind, right when he saw you leaving her apartment. He remembers what she told him, and it bothers him.

You should stop overthinking it and tell her while you still have a chance.

Is there someone else in your life? And why did you leave like this? You were almost… running away…

Maybe Jessie’s right. Everyone on set seems to have picked up that he likes you. That he has a crush on you. Maybe he should stop thinking so much about the consequences but… he can’t help it. He’s a rational man. He wishes, sometimes, for a little bit more freedom. For a little bit more naivety in his actions. But he’s lived long enough to learn that one ought to think before acting.

He heaves a sigh, without noticing, busy with his own thoughts. It makes you look up at him with a frown.

“Ben? You’re okay?”

“Hmm? Yeah, sure.”

“Why this desperate sigh, then?” you tease, amused.

“I’m sorry, I was… lost in thought…”

“Come on, tell me! A penny for your thought!”

You’re cute. It’s almost annoying how adorable you look right now. A glint of mischief alit in your eyes, and a tender smile on your lips. You look soft, domestic almost, holding tightly your coat around your frame. He wishes he could wrap an arm around you, pull you to him, use the excuse of the chilly weather to keep you close. But he knows you’re shy, introverted, and he doesn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. He knows he’s a tactile kind of guy, but not everyone is. He doesn’t want to go too far.

Besides… if he does hold you close… will his poor little heart survive?

But he’s being ridiculous with all this. He’s not a teenager anymore. He knows how life works, how relationships work, what his feelings for you mean. He’s got to stop being so shy around you. Jessie says you like him too… maybe she’s right…

If he’s wrong, everything will become complicated. But then again… sometimes… complicated is nicer than simple.

He takes a deep breath, before diving…

“Actually… I was wondering… do you have someone in your life?”

Your eyes widen, your eyebrows shoot up… you look more than surprised…

“I… no, I’m single. Why?”

Ben shrugs, trying to calm his racing heart.

“Just… I was just wondering.”

“You?”

“Me?”

You chuckle, as he doesn’t seem to understand what you mean.

“What about you? Are you single?” you repeat, and he blushes hard, silently cursing himself.

What a moron…

“I’m single too,” he answers.

“I… why are you asking me this though?”

He notices how you shy away a little. How you bend your head. How nervous you look.

But he can’t back down this time. He’s got to do something about all this.

“Just… asking.”

“Why?”

“I thought… maybe we could… go have some diner together? Or a coffee? Or… anything you’d like, really.”

You freeze. You stop dead, standing still in the middle of the street. In a nearby alley, you hear someone singing drunkenly. You ignore the sound though. You merely stare at Ben. He’s so handsome like this, his frame tainted golden under a lamppost…

“Are you… asking me on a date?” you stutter.

“Yeah, I am.”

“Why?”

Ben blinks, an amused smile appearing on his lips.

“Why do you think I’m asking you on a date? Because I… want to go on a date with you.”

“Yes, but… I… me?”

His smile falters, he looks down at his feet, kicks into an invisible pebble, his hands still buried in his pockets. He doesn’t want you to see the way he clenches his fists…

“It’s okay if you don’t want to. I get it. It’s not going to be the first time a woman says no…”

“I’m not saying no!”

“Are you saying yes, then?”

“I just… I thought…”

But then, you remember the way he acts with Jessie, and he’s not like this with you. He didn’t offer you his arm as you walked together, the way he always does when she’s around and he…

You shake your head. You like him. If you’re to be honest with yourself, you do feel a little bit more than a crush for him. A lot more, actually.

But you’re not stupid. You’re not a teenager anymore, you know how these things work. And you don’t want to get your heart broken.

Maybe he’s just doing this to make her jealous… the thought breaks your heart…

“I don’t think you mean that,” you answer earnestly.

Ben looks up at you again, frowning hard.

“What?”

“We’re working together…”

“I know… but I don’t think it would be a problem. But then again… I can wait. If you want us to finish shooting the show before we can go on a date… I’ll wait. I’ll ask you again once we’re not working together anymore.”

You know he means it. You can see it in his brown eyes. Brown… they’re fully black though. You can’t see where his irises start, where his pupils end…

His gaze is earnest as much as it is hypnotic.

You’re more puzzled than ever.

“But… I thought… you and Jessie…”

But Ben rolls his eyes, almost annoyed.

“We’re friends. Nothing more. People like gossiping, that’s all.”

“I’ve seen the way you act with her. You two are very close.”

“And?”

“And… I thought you… were like that…”

“She’s just a friend.”

“But you’re not like that with me.”

He frowns again, but lets you continue.

“You’re… not… close to me. Not like that. I thought it was because… because you’re closer to her, than you are with me.”

“It’s just different.”

“You’re always touching and hugging everyone… but not me. It’s not just Jessie… I think it’s about me. I thought you were… friendly with me. That’s all.”

“I just…”

He lets out a breathy chuckle.

“You make me nervous,” he admits, and there’s something a little sad in his smile now. Or… not quite sad but… fragile. “Besides… you’re shy. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. I like hugs, but I’m also aware some people don’t like that.”

“I like hugs,” you answer.

Which is quite ridiculous, and Ben can’t help but laugh.

“Good to know.”

He takes a step closer, his heart beating so fast. He hasn’t felt so giddy and excited and utterly nervous in years… what are you doing to him?

“I like you,” he confesses in a breath, letting it all out in a shaky whisper, and you stop breathing altogether at the sound. “I like you… a lot. And I’m just… nervous and… afraid to make you uncomfortable. But I… Y/N you can’t imagine how much I want to hold you right now and… touch you and… kiss you and…”

“Do it then.”

He falls silent, and you do too. Because it isn’t really like you to be so bold, but you can’t help it. You’re not really thinking anymore. His words register into your brain, you make sense of them, and you want him to do everything he’s saying out loud, and that’s all you know, all that you’re aware of. That, and the fact that he’s standing very close to you, maybe a little too close, close enough for your chests to brush against each other as you fill up your lungs with air…

“What did you say?” he asks, his voice shaking.

He’s searching for something in your eyes. You think it might be reassurance…

“I said that you should do it.”

“It?”

“All that you’ve just said.”

A crooked smile appears on his lips, his hands coming out of his pockets to reach up towards your cheeks.

“Even the part where I’m kissing you?”

You smile, nodding.

“Especially that part, I think.”

“Alright… but then… can we have a date.”

“Okay. But… everything is going to be complicated. Like… we work together and… and it’s going to be a mess and…”

“Y/N?”

“Yes?”

His palms have reached your cheeks, warm and a little calloused, and you adore the feeling. You lean into his touch, his fingertips lost in your hair.

“Do you want me to kiss you now?” he asks, leaning closer, his lips bare centimetres away from yours.

“Yes. Yes, I do… but…”

“Then let’s just get things impossibly complicated… and let’s kiss too.”

You’ve closed your eyes at the feeling of his warm breath fanning against your mouth and…

… and then he closes the gap between you. And it’s gentle, almost shy. Delicate. It becomes more heated though, after he pulls away for a second, just long enough to change the angle of his lips upon yours, so he can have better access to your mouth, so he can deepen the kiss and…

Christ, that is too good… too good to be true…

When you part, you’re both out of breath.

“So… are you convinced that I like you now?” Ben asks, brushing his nose against yours.

You open your eyes again, just to fall in his gaze.

“Kind of, yes.”

“So… What about Sunday for the date?”

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Taglist : @reg-arcturus-black @wolfmoonmusic

#ben barnes #ben barnes x reader #ben barnes x y/n #ben barnes x you #ben barnes fanfiction #ben barnes fanfic #ben barnes fic #ben barnes oneshot #oneshot #fanfic #fanfiction #writing

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peterman-spideyparker · 8 months

Text

Hypothetically Real Future (Billy Russo x fem!Reader)

Author’s Note: Hey everyone! I was supposed to post this a few days ago, but after being over-productive at work to account for taking few days off, I was too exhausted to edit and post. But here it is! The whole idea was inspired by listen to the Jackie and Ryan soundtrack and hearing Ben Barnes sing. Enjoy! :)

Summary: Billy comes to surprise you on a Friday afternoon, but when he has plans to whisk you away for the weekend, you let him in on your babysitting plans for a friend.

Warnings: Fluff (established relationship, Billy being very sweet and the secret softie he is, Billy having pet names for reader), angst (reader and Billy want some different things, but they haven't talked about it, talk about family/Billy's past)

Other Characters: OFC

Word Count: 2,908

“Hey, doll face,” Billy smiles as he leans against the doorframe to your office.

“Billy,” you smile as you swivel toward him. Getting up, you maneuver around your desk and move to hug him. Before you can wrap him in a tight embrace, he whips out a bouquet in the space between the two of you. You giggle as the petals of the flowers tickle your nose and hide the lower half of his face, prompting Billy to playfully wiggle his eyebrows. You happily take the bouquet from his hands before leaning in for a sweet kiss. “What brings you to my neck of the woods?”

“Figured I could spring you a bit early from his place,” he hums as he rests a hand on your waist and kisses your neck. “It’s a Friday afternoon in the middle of the summer. Nothing important is getting done, and you know it.”

“You have a fair point.”

“Then let’s get going, sweetheart. I can call in a favor, and we can have a very nice, very sexy weekend in the Hamptons.”

You let out a sigh, resting your forehead on his shoulder. “I'd love that, but I can’t, though.”

“But you just said nothing was going on. Perfect excuse to leave early.”

“I’m watching my friend’s baby this weekend. Her and her husband have to go to his grandma’s funeral in Washington state, and she doesn’t feel comfortable bringing Colin on a plane. I need to grab my weekend bag before I go over to their place. Sorry it puts a wrench in your very sexy Hamptons plans.”

“It’s okay, sweetheart. It’s great that you’re doing that for them. I know if I had a baby, I wouldn’t trust them with anyone else but you.”

“Thanks,” you smile.

“Maybe I could swing over with dinner one night. Keep you company.”

“If you keep doing things like that, Frank will tease you about going soft.”

“Yeah, that punk started to do that when we started to date.”

“Well, in that case, no need to prove him right. You’d never hear the end of it.”

“Yeah, you’ve got a point,” he chuckles. “How about this: I bring you to your place, help you grab your things, kiss a bit, and I drop you off at their place. At least we can spend some more time together.”

You chuckle and lean in for another kiss, his hand firmly on the small of your back to hold you in the embrace. “Sounds nice, Russo.”

“Thanks, baby,” you smile as Billy pulls over in front of their house.

“Any time, sweetheart,” he hums, kissing your cheek. “I’ll wait until you make it in.”

As you grab your things, you give Billy one more kiss and get out of the car, moving up the steps and knocking at the door.

“(Y/N)!” your friend Anna says with a hug. “I can’t thank you enough for watching Colin this weekend.”

“Don’t even worry about it. I know how close Ronnie and his Nonna were. It’s the least I can do.”

“Is that Billy?” she asks, leaning to the side and waving to the car.

“Yeah, he picked me up from work.”

“You know, he can stay the whole weekend. It’s not like you’re randy teenagers that are gonna have sex everywhere. It wouldn’t be a bad idea to have a two person team to deal with a two month old.”

“If you and Ronnie are sure—.”

“Of course! Just have him drive around the block, and he can take the spot we’re parked in once we leave.”

With another hug, you scurry down to the car.

“You okay, baby?” Billy asks.

“Wanna help babysit this weekend? I’ve been given the thumbs up,” you smirk.

“Oh, I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

“Please? It’d be easier to watch Colin with another person there. Besides, two month olds aren’t the best conversationalists.”

Billy sighs. “I’m sorry sweetheart, but . . . I’m just not good with babies.”

Your heart sinks because you know he’s lying right to your face— you’ve heard the stories of how good he was when Lisa and Frank Jr. when they were babies. You’ve seen the pictures and how he seems so comfortable, so natural with them, so happy with them, but you don’t push it.

“Okay,” you tell him. “I’ll text you.”

“Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

Moving back to the front door of your friend’s house you turn back and give Billy a wave goodbye.

“How about we find something to watch while the bottle warms, hm?” you say to Colin as he remains nice and snuggled in the wrap. “What are you in the mood for? Comedy? Period drama? Procedural? Reruns from the 70s and 80s? Channel surfing until we find something we like?” A little grunt that falls from his mouth. “Yeah, channel surfing is good. Sometimes you don’t know what hits the spot until you find it. Wise beyond your two months, my guy.”

When you hear the doorbell ring, your brows immediately scrunch in confusion. Moving over to the bay window, you carefully peer out from behind the curtains, smiling brightly when you see Billy’s lovely profile standing patiently on the stoop.

“We’ve got a visitor, Col,” you coo, walking over to the door to open it. “Hey, Russo.”

“It’s good practice to ask ‘Who is it?’ before opening the door,” he grins.

“My apologies," you chuckle. "What exactly brings you here?”

“I saw the way your face fell when you said I wouldn’t stay,” he says quietly. “I’m sorry.”

“Bill, listen—.”

“You really do have a terrible poker face, sweetheart.”

“If you don’t want to be here, I’m not gonna force you.”

“I really do wanna be here, baby. I wanna be here with you. Trust me. I also brought some late night snacks.” With a lopsided smirk, he lifts up a brown paper bag. “Crab rangoons, potstickers, General Tao’s chicken, lo mien—.”

“Snacks? That’s dinner—second dinner!” you giggle, stepping to the side and ushering him in with a jerk of your head.

“Snacks, dinner, whatever,” he smirks. “Figured you’d need to keep your energy up. Sit down, get this little guy fed, and I’ll be right there.”

With a little smile, you move to the living room and adjust, tilting Colin just right to make feeding easiest for him. As he takes the nipple into his mouth, Billy sits down next to you with two plates that have a little bit of everything in it.

“Open, sweetheart,” he hums gently, taking a bite of his egg roll before bringing yours to your lips. You smile before you bite down, humming in delight.

“Thank you,” you chew as you finagle the remote in your free hand and flip through the channels. “As my knight in MSG armor, you get the honor of choosing what we watch.”

“Aw, you’re too kind, princess.”

Settling on reruns of Bob’s Burgers, Billy continues to feed you while Colin finishes his bottle and you burp him. The entire thing feels incredibly domestic, and you can’t help but imagine what it would be like in your shared house, taking care of a baby that’s half you and half Billy. But then you remember how Billy acted when you brought up him babysitting with you. If he had meant what he said, though, then why would he come back with food?

“You alright, babygirl?” Billy asks softly.

“Hm? Yeah,” you nod. “I’m gonna go and give Colin a bath before I put him down. Would you mind terribly cleaning up?”

“You got it, sweetheart.”

Getting up, you hold Colin close as you ascend the staircase and gather everything he needs. You try to prolong the bath as much as you can, your mind racing as you try to analyze Billy’s behavior. Did he feel guilty? Is he trying to save face? Billy is hard to read normally, but this is a whole new branch of difficult you didn’t know was possible. What if it’s something to do with you? Are you the reason he’s acting weird?

Your spiral is cut short when you hear the hardwood of the townhouse shift under his weight.

“Don’t you think he has enough lotion on him?” Billy teases softly as he rests against the door frame. “Any more, he’ll slip right out of your arms.”

“That’s a worry that never crossed my mind before now,” you sigh, looking down at how Colin smiles at you. You listen to Billy walk over, pressing a kiss to your neck as a hand rests on your waist.

“I’ll be your back up guard. He won’t stand a chance if he tries to wriggle away.”

You let out a hum of a laugh as you wipe your hands clean before you move to put a onesie on him, carefully zipping it up before Billy follows you to Colin’s nursery.

“Can you grab me one of the books?” you ask.

“Any one in particular?”

“I know they have Madeline—I’m the one that gave it to them.”

“Isn’t that more of—?”

“More of a what, Russo?” you challenge softly with a raised eyebrow as you sit in the rocking chair.

“Nothing,” he says with a shake of his head.

“That’s what I thought,” you smirk.

Taking the book from his hand, you open the book and start to read, gently rocking back and forth in the chair. Colin is quick to fall asleep, likely due to the bath, and Billy takes the book from your fingers carefully as you continue to rock him to make sure he’s out. You gingerly stand up and place him in his crib, tip-toeing out of the room with Billy.

“How about you try to get some rest?” Billy whispers, kissing your cheek. “I’ll stay up a bit longer, keep an ear out for him.”

“Bill, I—.”

“Isn’t there a saying about sleeping when the baby sleeps? At least one of us should heed the advice.”

You stop in the hallway and turn around, cradling his face in your hands, pressing a soft, sweet kiss to his lips.

“I love you, Billy,” you whisper. “Thank you.”

Billy gives you one more kiss before gently rubbing your arms, up and down. “Sleep well, princess.”

Just as quickly as you settle in and fall asleep, you get stirred awake when you her tiny little cries make their way over the baby monitor. Sitting up in bed, you rub the sleep out of your eyes and turn your attention to he nightstand where the device rests.

“Hey, buddy,” you hear Billy say over the monitor. “Shh, it’s okay. It’s okay, bud, you’re safe. I’m here for you.” You listen to him let out a soft sigh as he bends over to pick Colin up, undoubtedly trying to rock him back to sleep. “No need to cry,” he hushes. After a few moments, you listen to him start singing, his voice soft, calming, and down right beautiful. It’s so unexpected, you sit in the bed, frozen in surprise as you listen. Slowly, Colin starts to calm down as Billy keeps on singing. You can’t help but smile, and you slip out of the covers and quietly pad over to the nursery, resting against the doorframe as you listen to Billy finish the song, carefully putting a sleeping Colin back down in his crib.

“I hoped that you wouldn’t get woken up,” he says gently as he turns around and approaches you. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” you say with a soft smile. “I heard it over the monitor.”

“Oh,” he says as his cheeks flush pink.

“Don’t be embarrassed. It’s cute.”

He shuffles over to where you stand, wrapping an arm around you, pressing a lingering kiss on the crown of your head.

“Are you okay, sweetheart?” he murmurs as you move to the living room. “You’ve been a bit off all night.”

“It’s nothing, Bill, I promise.”

He kisses your forehead, tucking wisps of hair behind your ear. “You know you can tell me anything. What’s going on?”

His voice is so gentle and his chocolate eyes stare at you like a needy puppy.

“You’re so good with him,” you tell him. “I’ve heard the stories from Frank—I’ve seen the pictures . . . I don’t know. I’m just overthinking it Billy, really, I—.”

“No, no, c’mon. Keep talking to me. What’s going on in that beautiful head of yours?”

You let out a breath as you sit on the sofa and pick up one of Colin’s stuffies. “Is it because Anna and Ronnie are my friends and not yours? I know you’re not as close with them as you are with Frank, but I didn’t think that’s be a deterrent for babysitting. I mean, it should be easier to—.”

“Is that what you think this is about?”

Your heart jumps in your throat before rocketing to the bottom of your stomach. “I told you I was overthinking, and I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—.”

“Can I be honest with you, sweetheart?”

You nod, and Billy adjusts before he leans forward to gently take your hands in his. “I didn’t want to come because I didn’t want to see you with a baby.”

Your eyebrows pull together as a small frown pulls on your lips. “I . . . I’m not following.”

He sighs and sits down carefully on the ottoman. “I knew that if I saw you with Colin all weekend, I’d want to have a baby with you.”

You look at him, desperately trying to read all the emotions on his face. “Is . . . Would that be the worst thing?”

He lets out a breath as he looks down at the floor, almost like he’s ashamed to look at you. “I never knew my dad. I don’t have a relationship with my mom. I’m screwed up enough. I don’t want to screw up another human being.”

“I guess we never really talked about anything that far ahead.”

“No,” he says quietly. “We haven’t.”

Leaning forward, you kiss his forehead, running your fingers through his hair and cradling his face.

“When my brother found out he was gonna be a dad, he was worried about a million things—how he was gonna screw up, if his kids were gonna be assholes, if he would be enough. And my dad told him that because he was worrying about all these things when he didn’t even know the sex of the baby, he was gonna be just fine. All those things showed how much he cared.” From down the hall, you can hear how Colin starts to fuss, and you lean back from his touch, pulling your hands from his as you throw your hair into a pony tail, but not before you lean forward to kiss his temple, running your fingers through his hair. “For what it’s worth,” you say softly, “I think you’d be a great father, Billy.”

“Sweetheart—.”

“Get some rest, Billy. You’ve been up since four this morning and you watched Colin while I slept.”

Moving from him before he can protest more, you go to Colin’s nursery as you hold him, letting a tear roll down your cheek while you console him. It’s not long until he calms down, his tiny fingers curling into your shirt to hold onto you tight. You have to carefully pry his little fingers open so you can put him down, slowly as to not wake him back up.

“He all good now?” Billy asks as you slide back under the blankets.

“Out like a light,” you tell him, pecking a kiss to his lips. “Just needed a new diaper and some cuddles.”

Turning on the mattress, Billy wraps his arms around you and nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck.

“You’re the only person that I’d want to have a baby with,” he whispers. “I’m not ready, but . . . I hope you’d still want to have a baby with me. Some day.”

His words hit you in a spot you didn’t know about, and you just snuggle down onto him. “I do,” you whisper. “I just . . . We have some things to talk about.”

There’s a thick silence in the bedroom, but the way that Billy rolls you over and presses a pillow-soft kiss to your lips, tucking your head under his chin and wrapping you secure in his arms, it tells you that he’s open to a future he never truly thought of—not in a way that mattered to him before.

“So . . .” you start softly. “Hypothetically . . . Potentially, would this ‘someday baby’ . . . Would it be after a hypothetical wedding? If that’s something you’d be interested in. Hypothetically.”

His silence, even though it is only a few seconds, it feels like forever, and it feels like you might have just ended your relationship while cuddled in his arms.

“Hypothetically?” he murmurs. “No.”

Your heart absolutely drops, and you can feel the tears well immediately.

“Realistically?” Billy continues. “Absolutely.”

Sitting up in bed and pulling out of his arms, you turn to face him and smack him. “Russo, you can’t do that!”

“Ow!” he says, rubbing the spot where you smacked him. “You’ll wake Colin!”

“I don’t care!”

“Okay, I realize that wasn’t the smartest way to say things, but . . . I love you, sweetheart, I do. And after we talk things over, like really talk them over, make some pictures clearer . . . Yeah, it’s in our future. Our real future.”

Permanent Taglist: @majesticavenger @steampowerednightvaler @themusingsofmany @just-the-hiddles @toozmanykids @dangertoozmanykids101 @clints-worldavengers @theburningbookshop @itwasthereaminuteago @peter1ismybrother @hellskitchens-whore @dpaccione

Billy Russo Taglist: @two-unbeatable-beaters

#billy russo #billy russo fanfic #billy russo fanfiction #billy russo x reader #billy russo x fem!reader #billy russo fluff #billy russo angst #marvel #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #the punisher #the punisher netflix #the punisher disney+

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ineffeblygay · 1 year

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The following message is directed to darklina shippers, primarily those of which who have not read the books, those who excuse the actions of The Darkling in the books, and/or those who see the actions and simply accept/ignore them because “he’s morally grey tehe 🤭” or “he’s the same as Kaz Brekker” or “Ben Barnes is sooo hot”.

Let’s start this off strong: The Darkling is ABSOLUTELY, POSITIVELY, BEYOND A SHADOW (ha) OF A DOUBT nothing like Kaz ‘Dirtyhands’ Brekker, and here’s why.

Kaz is a criminal, there is no denying it, and we love him for it. Why, you may ask? That’s because Kaz has two things the Darkling doesn’t.

#1 lines he won’t cross. Kaz Brekker, a man who wants vengeance more than he wants oxygen, still has a hard limit. He’d never do *insert unspeakable things the darkling has done “for the greater good” (they were in fact NOT for the greater good but we’ll get into that later)*. And the reason for that is he actually cares about his friends, his crows. He CARES about their lives more than he cares about his vengeance. Even if he doesn’t show it, he’d never trade one of them for Pekka’s head. Instead, he’d work with them to kill him.

#2 he has an actual reason (now I know, I know: Kaz Brekker didn’t need a reason- but he has one). We all know his traumatic history and how it affects him to this day. We know what happened to Jordie and how Kaz vowed to avenge his big brother. We’ve all read the same chapters, the same Kaz POVs. He was wronged and ofc, it’s a YA fantasy novel so he’s gonna kill the bastard, duh. He’s getting his pound of flesh, and some for Jordie too, and he’ll build his empire off of Pekka.

Now I know what you may be thinking: “THIS SOUNDS JUST LIKE THE DARKLING!!” but does it really? Think about it here. Point #1, lines that won’t be crossed. Kaz has proven to have mercy even when it would have served his plan better to not (that part in CK when he threatened to kill a kid); but has the Darkling?

Let’s start a list:

the fold (and everyone inside). Sounds like genocide and world destruction to me.

Novo Kribirsk - again with that genocide.

Alina. Everything Alina. This includes, but is not limited to: grooming her, putting a collar around her neck to steal her powers and enslave her, torturing her and her partner, kidnapping her, sexually assaulting her, attacking her (x a bajillion times), threatening her, etc.

Genya - put a (I believe) 9 year old in the hands of a KNOWN pedophile to retrieve information, separated her from other grisha so she felt alone, manipulated and groomed her, mutilated her, etc.

Killed Botokin and Anna Kunya, and held orphans hostage.

These are specifics I know off the top of my head and I could get more if I did some research, but just rapid fire here: deaths of countless grisha who stood against him, what he did to Zoya, Fedyor, Sergi, Nikolai (not a grisha but he counts), etc.

All of these actions were supposedly to get to his goal of “a safe place for grisha” (We’ll talk about how that wasn’t what he actually cared about later) and he didn’t stop at anything. Never hesitated, nothing.

The real reason this was all for was because he has a MASSIVE savior complex. He may have wanted (past tense) a safe place for grisha but now, what matters more to him is being the hero. He wants more to be the one who saves everyone than to have everyone be safe. It really reinforces the whole “make me your villain” line bc he doesn’t believe he’s the villain, he wants to be the hero so bad- but he’s not. And he never will be, because somewhere along the line, he lost sight of the goal and started making bad decisions and now we’re here.

Another thing I’d like to add, you can like Ben Barnes and not like the Darkling. You have to remember that it’s a ROLE. I love Ben and hate the darkling. Simply bc they’re NOT THE SAME PERSON. It’s actually quite genius that he was casted bc a big part of his gig was seducing people to his side with his insane looks and charisma so clearly it worked a little too well.

Now to get to #2. He didn’t have an actual valid reason- not that any reason could warrant his behavior but he didn’t even have a fucking reason. He SAID he was doing it all “so grisha could be safe” but it’s a lie. It may have been his reason a few centuries ago but I guarantee it’s not his reason now. If that was his reasoning for ALL THIS, he would not HARM grisha to get what he wants. He wouldn’t KILL grisha for his goals.

In short, the Darkling does what he does because he has a MASSIVE savior complex. He wants more so to be the one who saves everyone, than to have everyone be safe.

#shadow and bone #seige and storm #ruin and rising #king of scars #rule of wolves #the darkling #aleksander kirigan #anti darkling #anti darklina #kaz brekker #kaz is NOT the darkling

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love-strawberry · 2 years

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you and midnight walks

summary : in which they're so in love that it makes everyone jealous.

pairing : ben barnes x reader

warnings : language

author's note : had so much fun writing this!! hope you all like it <33

tagged : @mrsben-barnes @ellora-brekker @slut4benbarnes

masterlist

navigation

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liked by tchalamet, freddycarter1, kittheyounger and 3,428,926 others

y/n_ when you're giving him the silent treatment but then HE starts to give YOU the silent treatment<<<

tagged benbarnes

98,628 comments

username dump him, marry me

username he looks so good

username yeah ben wtf

daniellegalligan_ smh ben

username i love them so much your honour

benbarnes i'm sorry, please let me in now

-> y/n_ no

-> benbarnes i made you coffee

-> y/n_ opening the door as we speak

username their relationship>>>

username he's so beautiful

jessie_mei_li forget him, let's date, i'll give you all the attention you want bb

-> y/n_ benbarnes bye, i love you jessie

username 🦋🦋🦋

freddycarter1 did you let him in? he's been texting me constantly

-> y/n_ yeah i did, it's so hard to stay mad at him

jacktwolfe you guys>>>

username ❣️❣️❣️

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liked by y/n_, lewistanofficial, amitasuman_ and 3,628,528 others

benbarnes wife appreciation post cause she deserves it. thank you so much for making everyday feel like a dream, i love you <3

tagged y/n_

98,827 comments

username im sobbing

username them them them them them them them them them them

username they invented being in love

kittheyounger stop making all of us feel single, it's not pleasant

username when will it be my turn?!

amitasuman_ the happiest, the most beautiful and loving person i know 🦋🌙

username me on my knees for y/n y/l/n and y/n y/l/n only

username 🛐🛐

username ben 🤝 everyone : simping for y/n

username he loves her so much i can't-

lewistanofficial 🤍🤍🤍

username me @ god for not giving a soulmate : 🖕🏼

jessie_mei_li 💟💟

y/n_ ahhhhhsjhdjsks i love you so much, thank you for being in my life and making it infinite times better

-> benbarnes ❤️❤️❤️

calahan.skogman you guys 🤍✨

username 💕💕

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liked by jacktwolfe, archierenaux3, benbarnes and 4,729,529 others

y/n_ you and midnight walks with you are my favourite <3

tagged benbarnes

101,268 comments

username alexa play late night talking by harry styles

username wow, i feel so single rn

username hahaha i hate this hahaha

daniellegalligan_ my loves 💕

freddycarter1 where are you both? your bf is needed on set

-> y/n_ we're getting ice cream, we'll be there

-> freddycarter1 niceee get me cookies and cream. and mint choco chip for jack

-> y/n_ ofc

username fuck romeo and juliet, i want what these bitches have

tchalamet y'all make me sick with love

lbardugo babies 🦋🦋

username no one simps for ben more than y/n and no one simps for y/n more than ben

username their love for eachother is all i want in life

benbarnes these talks about random things with you are my favourite :)

-> y/n_ sameee i love them so much, it's so interesting to hear you talk about memes and how important they are to society

username i wanna hear ben talk about memes

username ben and y/n>>> everyone else

jessie_mei_li making me wanna get in a relationship

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benbarnes happy happy happy birthday to the love of my life <3

tagged y/n_

99,628 comments

username HAPPY BIRTHDAY QUEEN

username Y/N SUPREMACY>>>

username she's so pretty wtf

daniellegalligan_ my wife's birthday :)

username 🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

username i love her i love her i love her i love her i love her i love her i love her i love her i love her i love her i love her i love her

username she's so beautiful, ben's so lucky

y/n_ omg i love you!! thank you so much <333

-> benbarnes i love you more <3

username brb gonna cry

jacktwolfe on my way with freddy and kit

username 🥳🥳🥳

username the queen's birthday ayyyy

username her style is top tier

amitasuman_ 💋❣️🦋💕

lbardugo happy birthday to my favourite child <3

username ✨🤍

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buckyispunk · 6 months

Text

get to know me game

Thank you very much for the tags my lovelies @hyzer34 @bastardmandennis <3

whats your astrological big 3?

Cancer sun, Aquarius moon, Sagittarius rising

last song?

I thinkkkk it was Robbers - the 1975

currently reading?

Just finished Final Girl Support Group by Grady Hendrix, undecided on what I’ll start next!

last movie?

The Town, dir. Ben Affleck

its karaoke night at your fave dive bar, which song are you singing?

Ooh I hate to be basic but maybe Don’t Stop Believin’ - Journey. Or Heat of the Moment - Asia. Pretty much anything 80s tbh. I can’t sing for shit btw.

working on?

just barelyyy have the teeniest bit of notes down for a Joel miller x reader fake dating fic (prob several parts)👀, second chapter of Aloha (Bucky Barnes x reader), third chapter of Joel miller x college student reader

Tags (sorry if you already did it and I missed it!) @sageispunk @devispunk @lumoverheaven @stylesispunk and anyone else who wants to ofc!

#get to know Abby #my phone is at 2% so this is rushed

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misshoneybee · 2 years

Text

⟣ 𝑌𝑂𝑈'𝑅𝐸 𝑀𝑌 𝐴𝐶𝐻𝐼𝐿𝐿𝐸𝑆 𝐻𝐸𝐸𝐿 ⟢

— 𝑋𝑋. 𝑇𝐸𝐿𝐿 𝑀𝐸 𝑇𝐻𝐴𝑇 𝐼’𝑀 𝐴𝐿𝐿 𝑌𝑂𝑈 𝑊𝐴𝑁𝑇 𝐸𝑉𝐸𝑁 𝑊𝐻𝐸𝑁 𝐼 𝐵𝑅𝐸𝐴𝐾 𝑌𝑂𝑈𝑅 𝐻𝐸𝐴𝑅𝑇

Masterpost — OFC Biography — Playlists — Chapter XIX — Chapter XXI

❧ Pairings | Post-Endgame!Bucky Barnes x Original Female Character, Previous Steve Rogers x Original Female Character

❧ Warnings | Mature content, explicit language, angst, mutual pining

❧ Wordcount | ~7.2k

❧ Author’s Note | There's not a lot of Bucky in this chapter but I promise the following two chapters are full of him. 🥰

❧ Disclaimer | Dividers are by firefly-graphics. If you are a minor, or do not have your age in your bio, and I catch you interacting with this, you will be blocked. If you believe you were blocked unfairly, send me an ask with your url.

This ultraviolet morning light below, Tells me this love is worth the fight. Oh, I lived like an island, Punished you with silence, Went off like sirens, just crying. ( Afterglow | Lover )

February 18, 2025

Maybe Bucky’s therapist had been on to something. Maggie had to admit that no matter how awkward and painful it was in the moment, making amends somehow worked. It was a slow, arduous process as she found her courage to reach out, but it was worth it to lose the weight that she didn’t realize that she’d been carrying around with her for so many years.

Some parts of the process were more difficult than others; like, the letter she’d written to Steve would never be read—he’d left no return address and calling the post office had been no help. They couldn’t tell her where the letter had originated from, so she’d had to settle for writing out everything that she’d wanted to say, though he’d never hear it, and tucking it away forever.

She couldn’t help but think he’d done it on purpose; he didn’t want her heart to linger on him anymore than it already had.

It was cathartic; she hadn’t realized how much she’d left unsaid until her pen was flying across the page. Everything poured out of her so quickly—how much she missed him, the way she was angry for so long though she’d finally forgiven him, how she was terrified that moving on would be akin to forgetting everything that had happened between them.

With ink smeared on her hand and tear splotches on the lines, she’d finally finished, and it felt like she’d been caught in a storm and washed clean. There was something so bittersweet about taking a step back and seeing the end all over again from a new perspective; the first time around, she hadn’t been ready and maybe that’s why it had been so hard.

She hadn’t known how to let go.

But just like she knew it would, the piercing pain had dulled with each tick of the clock taking her further and further away from that morning when he’d left. It didn’t hurt to wake up or go to sleep or look at drawings or pictures anymore. It wasn’t because she’d lost the love that she’d had for Steve—that would probably never happen—but now, she could finally look back on it with a forgiving warmth instead.

She’d loved Steve, and he’d loved her, and they’d been happy. Maybe it hadn’t lasted forever, but that was alright; not everything was supposed to. They were lucky to have found the other when they needed them most. Sealing the words away in the little, blank envelope and tucking it among stacks of photos, she was at peace.

It was okay that he’d never read it; the words would stay between them anyway.

Her other amends had been a little more complicated; with Steve, they’d both been the cause of their inescapable implosion, but she’d been the sole perpetrator when it came to the others’ demise. Working backwards, she’d done some light internet stalking to find Ben’s new contact information; she hadn’t seen or spoken to him since he’d left her room that July night over five years earlier.

That particular phone call had been awkward and incredibly uncomfortable, but she’d still hung up and felt a rush of relief. Avoiding talking about herself whilst on the line—he really didn’t need to know how she and Steve had ultimately ended, especially after the way she’d hurt him—Maggie had focused on his life instead. In Boston, he’d found everything that he’d been looking for, just like she knew he would.

A year after his move, Ben had gotten married to a co-worker and their second child was already on the way, he loved the research he was doing because he felt like he was truly making a difference; everything had worked out in the end, and she was happy for him. Even if she was a little jealous, she knew it was for the best.

There was no chance that she would have been content to have followed him to Boston; they’d just been far too different, and their decision had been for the best. Hanging up, she was almost certain that she’d paced miles around her apartment as they spoke; she’d been too nervous to stay in one spot on the call but at least it was over.

With two names crossed off, there were only two left: Bucky and Nick. She wasn’t really eager to start with either of the men. One she’d hurt in a way that had been incredibly cruel and the other, she was still in love with—hopelessly, painfully, heart-achingly, in love with.

Even if she wanted to reach out to Nick, which she most certainly did not, she was still so terrified after all thar time. Had he been taken in the snap and lost those years? Thirteen had passed for her, what if it had only been eight for him? Then again, it wasn’t like there was a statute of limitations on him feeling the pain that she’d inflicted.

Maybe the mystery of it all was what she found most frightening. Would he be angry? Or hurt? Would he hate her? It wasn’t like she didn’t deserve to receive the belated fallout that she’d cowered from after the explosion she'd detonated all those years ago.

She thought about looking him up in the hospital directory online, the one Poppy had spotted him in all those years before was only eight blocks from her office. If she could just swallow the horror and make herself be brave, then maybe she could get it over with. She could march into the hospital and face her fears.

Waffling back and forth between which man was the least intimidating option, she puttered around the second bedroom turned home office in her apartment. Ever since she was little, she’d found that reorganizing things had been the best way to avoid doing what needed to be done. Sure, all of her files were already alphabetized but she needed to be certain that they were, because that was obviously the most pressing issue at the moment.

It felt like the world stopped spinning when she finally found an out-of-place file with an unlabeled tab. It was unlike Maggie to be so careless, but that wasn’t what had caught her attention—no, she’d quickly realized that the file wasn’t hers. That particular one had come from when she and Steve had moved to the tiny house upstate and their personal affects had intermingled.

The file wasn’t even really Steve��s property, either; it had once belonged to Hydra and now it was in her little apartment. It felt vaguely illegal. The missing file on The Winter Soldier had been residing in her home for well over a year. It wasn’t as if she’d forgotten about it—not completely, at least. When Maggie had initially come across the thick folder, she’d quickly hid it away but now that it was in her hands again, she had the intense urge to open it.

It was an invasion of his privacy, and she had no clue if he even knew of the file’s existence. Surely if he had, he would have asked for it back, wouldn’t he? Maybe she should slide it under his door—then again, it’s not like he wouldn’t know where it came from. She could burn it but that felt slightly melodramatic and it would require setting something on fire and she really didn’t want to accidentally burn down the entire building for some symbolic bullshit that could have been achieved with the use of a paper shredder instead.

Sitting on the cold hardwood, she crisscrossed her legs as she stared down at the closed manila folder on her lap, unblinking. What was that old saying?

Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back.

Would she be satisfied if she knew all of the secrets that had been typed and tucked away for safe keeping? Was the reward worth the risk?

She’d find out.

Holding her breath, she flipped back the cover and her breath caught again like it had when she’d seen the picture for the very first time a year earlier. It was Bucky in a metal cryochamber, in some kind of stasis that he’d been placed in to keep him alive, but just barely.

It had kept him preserved for their use, like he was some staple ingredient for their recipe for chaos and destruction to bend the world to their will, and not a human. But, as she read, she quickly realized that it was because they hadn’t seen him as a human; he hadn't been anything but a tool to them. They’d called him ‘the asset’ and ‘soldat’ and even an experiment number like he’d been some test tube they’d just labeled in a lab.

Hydra hadn’t just taken seventy years of his life; they’d taken everything from him. His autonomy, his memories, his name. They’d made him a blank slate and they’d had to do it hundreds of times over because it seemed that, almost every time, a piece of Bucky that had held on and remained inside fought back.

The constant do-overs cited his ‘relapses into compassion’ as the main issue that needed revising on their next attempt at brainwashing. Relapses—like he was some addict that couldn’t get clean. Somehow, despite everything, he had kept his heart, but they’d soon learned that, if they told ‘the soldat’ that he was helping the world and making it a better place, he was more cooperative to their plight.

At his core, he’d always been so good, and they’d twisted it to their advantage.

She was grateful that, even though what they’d done had hardened him, it hadn’t completely changed him. He was still perfect to her. It was like once she started, she couldn’t stop. Page after page after page with pictures and vitals and logs and mission reports—she devoured it all. And she felt sick.

Not because of what he’d done—it hadn’t even really been him. It might have been his body, but it wasn’t his mind. No, she felt nauseous because of everything they’d forced him to do, because of everything they’d taken away from him, and because there was absolutely nothing that she could do to take that pain away from him or wreak havoc on those that had caused it. She could only read the contents of the goddamn folder and try to stifle her tears in her sleeve.

Why him? Of every man that had been fighting in that godforsaken conflict, why had it had to be Bucky? Maybe it was cruel for her to wish that pain upon someone else, but it wasn’t fair how everything had shaken out. He’d been fighting a war that he had no choice in joining before being drafted to the other side and forced into combat for them.

It wasn’t like reading it changed how she felt for him or made her see him any differently; it really only made her head spin. The programming they’d placed in his mind had been removed during his time in Wakanda but that didn’t help the emotional scars and everything else that had been left behind. Was he still so afraid?

She knew that he had been, at least up until recently, just a few months before when she’d gone a round in the boxing ring with him. Odd were, he probably still was. Since he’d returned home the night before, from wherever he’d been, Maggie had heard him rattling around his apartment alone and it took everything in her to not knock on his door.

Maybe there was a piece of her that always knew there was some expiration date on their situation; it wasn’t like she could keep a friend-with-benefits forever—but she hadn’t expected that losing him like that, also meant that she’d lose his friendship as well.

Of course, she missed the intimacy but that fell second place to missing his presence. There wasn’t anyone that she could show memes to—then explain the joke because he didn’t get it—or anyone she could con into going out to the park with her. Her farmer’s market trips had become quick jaunts without any banter or coffee to mark the end of the day. The apartment was just far too quiet, and it was lonely without him.

But maybe Bucky was happy—he deserved that, so she hoped he was. He deserved someone great even if that someone wasn’t Maggie, but she was finally coming around to the idea that she deserved that too. She deserved someone that loved her recklessly, without abandon or fear of what came next. And maybe someday, she’d find them.

Maybe she already had.

February 21, 2025

Was there really a difference? It was flour—did it matter if it was bleached or not? The recipe hadn’t specified a preference and she was adding cocoa powder to the mixture anyway so there wasn’t any need for the base to be bright white, was there? Bucky would have loved the cupcakes she was making—God, life would have been easier if every little thing didn’t remind her of him.

It was like everywhere she turned, she saw his face. In her office, in the man on the ferry, in her room, in her dreams—like some ghost, he haunted her every thought. Days had passed since he’d returned home and she still hadn’t seen him, then again, that was probably her own fault.

So, maybe she panicked anytime she was in the hall and heard his doorknob move, and maybe she forced her way into her own apartment, almost tripping herself and sending Alpine scrambling across the room in the process so her path didn’t cross with Bucky’s. She’d imagined their next interaction hundreds of times and she never knew how it would actually play out, so she’d simply avoided it for the time being.

Needless to say, he had top billing in the films that her mind had recently created. The constant distraction of him had become more and more detrimental—she forgot important things and made silly mistakes and just seemed to become less and less aware as time passed.

As such, of course she would accidentally body-slam the stranger who’d been standing beside her in the little store’s aisle. She’d just wanted to do a quick grocery run after work before taking the ferry back across the river, but she couldn’t seem to catch a fucking break.

“Shit—I'm so sorry,” Crouching, Maggie felt her face go red as she quickly collected the fallen items; her heavy bags of flour that she’d been debating between, and the stranger’s aspirin and spinach as they crouched down to her level.

Finally looking at the person’s face to apologize once more, it felt like the world stood still as they stopped and stared. There was a familiar numbness that made her fingers and toes tingle while all of the blood rushed to her head as her brain worked overtime to comprehend the person before her. The face was familiar, like a perfect recollection from so many years before.

“Nick?” Her whisper sounded uncertain but there was no mistaking the taller man for anyone else. His hair was a little shorter with some gray blending in around his temples, and his face more weathered, but the kind, round eyes with a little freckle just below the right one let her know that she was definitely correct.

A part of her was grateful that she wasn’t the only one who seemed completely at a loss for words as he accepted his items from her outstretched hands. Whether it was because he’d gotten better at hiding his feelings, or because it had been so many years and she didn’t really know how to read them anymore, she was unable to decipher his expression before he finally spoke with a pleasant surprise lacing his tone, “Maggie—hi!”

“Hi.” She finally greeted dumbly as he leaned in for a quick, awkward hug that was partially obstructed by the layers of their thick jackets and the items in their hands.

There was that anxious nausea once again, as they stood between the baking powder and dish detergent, partially blocking the aisle’s traffic. Thirteen years had passed since she’d last seen him; three presidential terms, a kid’s entire life through middle school, renewing her license twice—so many seemingly insignificant things had marked the passing of all that time they’d been apart.

Sure, Manhattan was a big island, and the city was even larger, but she should have known that their paths would cross at one time or another; she just hadn’t expected it to be when he’d been living in her mind, rent-free, for the past month. Squirming uneasily under his inscrutable gaze, she finally asked, “H-how have you been?”

“Good, yeah.” At that, it was like Maggie was taken back in time as that charming smile lit up his handsome face, the same one that had roped her in when they’d met in that biology building so long ago. His eyes traveled over her face like he couldn’t believe she was in front of him—she barely believed it herself. Shaking his head, he exhaled, “You’re just as beautiful as I remember, jeez. How are you?”

Finally letting go of the abject terror that she’d initially felt when she’d first met his eyes, Maggie allowed herself to relax just slightly and return the expression, “I’m really good thanks.”

Staring at him, like he was some ‘spot the difference’ picture in a magazine, she couldn’t tell if he’d just aged well or if he truly looked younger. Hesitantly, she gestured towards his person with the bag of flour still in her hands, “You look great. Did you…”

As she trailed off, he easily picked up the end of her question and shook his head, “Oh, uh, no. No, dad did but he’s back with mom now.” Gesturing back to her with an almost exaggerated smile to portray his happiness, he posited, “And you! I heard you got married a few years back, right? To Captain America—or, uh, Captain Rogers?”

The little laugh that Maggie choked out was slightly pained as she shook her head, looking down at her shoes as she admitted, “Oh, no… No, we didn’t. That was just some stupid tabloid thing that got way out of control.” Taking a breath, she shrugged, “We…actually aren’t together anymore.”

Almost dropping the bag of spinach again, he easily caught it as he murmured, “Shit—I’m sorry.”

“No,” With a hint of a nostalgic smile, she shrugged a little, “it’s okay.”

And it was.

Exhaling with an understanding nod, he stared at her for another long moment with that smile like he was taking her in for the first time all over again; it was almost like he was. Like him, she didn’t look anything like the girl who’d left him in bed and never spoken to him again. Her hair was shorter and no longer heat damaged from being ironed pin straight every single morning, she was wearing reading glasses in addition to her contacts, she no longer wore skinny jeans with every outfit—it was all for the best.

Finally, as he was not-so-gently shoulder checked by a small, elderly woman who needed the cornstarch he was still blocking, Nick shifted nervously as he quickly asked, “Are you busy?” Like her voice had been snatched from her throat by Ursula herself, Maggie shook her head before he continued uncertainly, “Would you want to get dinner later?”

Maybe she hadn’t needed to go knocking on fate’s door because it had brought an express delivery to hers instead. There was nothing left for her to run from; he was here in front of her and that closure that they both needed was almost close enough to touch.

“I’d really like that.”

Nick had needed to return to the hospital for a quick consult on a patient after their meeting, but they’d exchanged numbers before parting. Always so amenable, he’d insisted that he to come to Brooklyn so she wouldn’t have to make the long trek home, alone. Meeting at a little bistro that he’d gone to a handful of times before, Maggie’s nerves had returned with a vengeance as she slipped inside. The smallest part of her had contemplated blocking his number and disappearing all over again, but that was exactly what had gotten her into the mess in the first place.

She had to face the music, no matter how loud or dissonant it was. Nick deserved an explanation and, especially, an apology; he deserved answers to all of the questions that she was certain she’d left him with and, like she said in the note that she’d left behind, he’d deserved better than her and she hoped he’d found it.

Tucking her skirt beneath her, she carefully sat across from him at the table that the maître d’ had led her to in the dimly lit dining room. On the table, the little oil lamp’s flame flickered away, merrily casting moving, golden shadows as they exchanged pleasantries while dancing around the sinkhole between them. It was an unavoidable subject, but she’d try her damnedest to push it off until after their drinks had arrived at least.

Nervously sipping the water from the thin, stemmed glass that had been put next to her place setting, she searched her mind to find some safe topic, “I heard you were working at New York Presbyterian.”

“Yeah, I finished my residency and they kept me on as a fellow.” It was cute, how bashful he was at the incredible achievement. He really had lived out the life that they’d planned for themselves—medical school in Boston, match into residency somewhere in the city, fellowship before thirty five. Brow furrowed, he inquired curiously, “How did you know?”

“Uh, Poppy.” Maggie explained simply, sinking back into her seat, slightly embarrassed at her inadvertent admission through the question. Her face was red as she gave a weak smile as she elaborated, “She works with their lab occasionally and saw you, one day like seven years ago.”

It was funny how the world could be so large yet still feel so small; what were the odds that out of the multiple hospitals in the city, Poppy had been at the same one, at the same time, as him after so many years? Apparently, pretty good.

“I’m glad you got what you wanted, Nick.” There was pride in her little smile at everything he’d accomplished although she’d had no part in it. Maybe that’s why it had been so easy for her to leave—she knew that he’d be okay when she did. “I always knew you would.”

“Thank you.” One of the things she’d always admired about Nick was his genuineness; despite the tall, dark, and handsome thing he had going on, it was like you could always feel the kindness radiating off of him in warm waves. He was one of those people who always seemed to have a vested interest when listening to anything someone had to say, “And you’re working with the Stark Foundation?”

“Yeah! Yeah, I’ve been with them for,” Doing the mental math, a surprised laugh bubbled up from her chest as she realized just how long she’d been working for the nonprofit, “almost seven years now.”

After the waiter came and took the orders for their antipasto, there was an awkward lull in the conversation. Adjusting the perfectly polished cutlery beside her plate, Maggie tried to focus on her breathing. She just had to say it—if she got the apology out, then perhaps everything else would easily follow.

Before she could even open her mouth, she was cut off by Nick blurting offhandedly, “I got married.”

Surprised, her manicured brows shot up towards her hairline, “Oh!” Floundering for a moment, she shook her head like she had to clear the myriad of thoughts that came rushing in. Suddenly, dinner alone in a dim, intimate restaurant with a married man felt exceedingly inappropriate. With a warm smile, she met his eyes, “That’s—wow. Congratulations!”

In some way, the idea that he was married did lessen her guilt the slightest bit. What she’d done back then hadn’t bred a total mistrust of women or made him unable to love again—he’d been able to move forward.

“We…” With a choked, awkward laugh, Maggie watched as his cheeks went slightly pink; his beard wasn’t quite enough to keep that a secret. “We actually just finalized our divorce.”

“Oh.” At a loss for words, it felt like the wind was taken out of her sails and her shoulders fell; so, it hadn’t quite worked out. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay. We both…” Shaking his head, a fond smile found its way on to his lips. “It was kind of spur of the moment after everyone disappeared. We’d been dating a few months but then everything felt so fleeting, so we just decided to elope one day. I think we realized pretty soon after that it wasn’t really right but when everyone came back, it kind of solidified it. We both just wanted different things.”

There was a heavy weight on her chest as she tried to take a deep breath. With a little nod, her smile was sad. That was something that she could relate to on a very personal level—but it didn’t hurt so badly anymore. It was like a brush burn; though the mark was gone, she could still feel it.

“I definitely get that.” She gave a one-shouldered shrug, “It’s sort of why Steve and I split up.” Teeth digging into her lower lip, Maggie played with the napkin that rested on her lap, twisting it around her fingers as she searched for that bravery that Steve had been so confident was within her. Biting the bullet, she finally forced the words from where they’d gotten stuck in her throat, “Nick, I owe you an apology.”

At that, it was like she watched as he transformed. Sitting up a little straighter, she could see the tension in his shoulders as he looked at her, still willing to listen so earnestly though she was pretty certain that she deserved a proper reprimand for what she’d done. Ignoring the urge to avoid his eyes, she held his intense gaze as she continued, “I am so, so sorry for hurting you. There is absolutely no excuse for what I did, and I’ve regretted ending things like that every single day since. You didn’t deserve that, and I know I can’t just say sorry and make it go away but I thought…the least I could do was apologize.”

She felt so small as he looked at her from across the table; her hands were shaking, and she had to clench her fists tightly to make them stop. She hadn’t even felt this nervous when she’d been gunning down aliens—then again, she’d been pumped full of adrenaline back then. Now, she was running purely on emotion, and it was terrifying.

It felt like she was in free fall and there was no telling where the ground was; it could be thousands of feet away or she could hit it the next second and she wasn’t prepared for either possibility.

“I…” Running a hand over his jaw, his eyes still looked so hurt after all this time and she kept herself steady, needing the tears to stay at bay. Knowing how badly she’d hurt him had been one thing, but seeing the way that the aftershocks still affected him after all this time was another. His voice broke slightly as he asked, “Mags, what happened? I thought that we were happy. Did I—”

Shaking her head, she cut him off before he could even complete the question, “No. It wasn’t anything that you did, I swear.” Swallowing the lump in her throat, she began, “I was the one that fucked up and I understand if you’re still upset—”

“I’m not.” At her sharp intake of breath, he gave a half-hearted shrug, “I mean, I was mad for a while but when I found out about your parents and everything, I just—” Cutting himself off with a short sigh, his jaw worked for a moment as he tried gather his thoughts into organized piles instead of errant papers tossed about before asking helplessly, “Why didn’t you tell me? I could have helped. Why didn’t you just talk to me?”

That was the million-dollar question, wasn’t it? Why had her instinct been to run away instead of seek support from a man that was good and kind and loved her? Had it really been because she’d been uncertain of their relationship? Or was she afraid that it could have become something more if time had allowed it to?

“I didn’t know how.”

That was the simplest of explanations when all was said and done.

It had been easy with Poppy—she already knew Maggie at her worst, but Nick hadn’t. Nick had only been let in as much as she allowed him. Three years had passed, and she’d still had so many walls up; she’d never let him see the worst parts of herself. If he had, would he have still loved her? Now, she knew the answer was probably ‘yes,’ but when she was younger and far less secure, she couldn’t imagine someone loving her if she was so broken.

“I know that’s an awful reason, but I was young and immature and stupid and I…I didn’t want to hurt anymore so I just ran away. I joined the Peace Corps and went to Ukraine and stayed over there for a few years until it felt like the storm had passed and I…”

Pressing the backs of her cool fingers to her flushed cheek in an attempt to soothe the burn, she watched as he continued to listen so intently, “I know that I hurt you, even if I didn’t mean to, and that is my fault. I have spent so many years thinking about finding you and apologizing for everything, but I was always so afraid that you’d hate me, which is a shitty reason not to say sorry, and I’d understand if—”

“I don’t hate you, Maggie.” Capturing one of her handz on the table, he gave it a little squeeze of reassurance and shook his head, “I could never hate you, not even for a minute. I went to Poppy’s that morning—”

“I know.” Nodding, she made a face as embarrassment swept over her once more, her other hand dropping back to her lap, “I was there.”

The short exhale of a laugh through his nose held no humor as he nodded understandingly, “I figured. I just wish you could have talked to me.”

Taking a deep breath, she felt the tide of tears recede back behind her eyes as she watched him. His gaze was tender as he looked at her face, taking in every slight change that had happened in the last decade—there were fine lines beside her eyes from all of the laughter, and ones on her forehead from the stress. They were both so different.

“I do too.” She agreed softly.

“Was there…” Trailing off, his tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip as he asked the question that had haunted him every time that he’d thought about Maggie in the years following her departure, “Could I have done something differently?”

Her grip tightened on his hand as she shook her head sadly, a few tears finally breaching the surface as she gave him a tight, broken smile, “No. I don’t think so.”

Tilting her head back, Maggie took a deep breath through her nose to try and reinflate her lungs before meeting his eyes once again, “I was the problem, Nick. I meant what I wrote, you deserved so much more than what I gave you. You were always so good to me. I’m just really sorry that I hurt you and I hope maybe one day you can forgive me but even if you don’t, I’d understand and that’s okay.”

On paper, he’d been the perfect boyfriend. He was handsome and sweet and got along with Poppy and her parents. He’d always brought her soup when she was sick or flowers from the bodega anytime that he’d seen some that she would have liked. Compassionate, funny, caring—he was perfect, but maybe just not for her.

For quite some time afterwards, Maggie had wondered what she truly deserved from a partner if it wasn’t him. First, she’d convinced herself that she was unworthy of a love that was unconditional, that her past mistakes made her ineligible for that everlasting emotion. Then, it was like she’d learned with every cautious step.

With Ben, she’d learned that it wasn’t possible to make herself feel something, that just wasn’t there, just because it made sense. She’d learned that she had to be honest with her feelings because the contrary had only ever led to loss.

Steve had watered the wilting flower that her heart had become after its repeated breaks; he’d taught her that it was okay to have her heart wide open—and even after he was gone, he’d let her know that moving on didn’t mean forgetting.

Giving her hand another tight pulse like he was bringing her back to the present, he shook his head as if what she’d said had been the most outlandish thing he’d ever heard, “Of course, I forgive you. I forgave you a long time ago, Mags.”

So, as it turned out, Nick—sweet, good, lovely Nick—was still teaching her after all this time. He’d taught her that she was worthy of forgiveness, even if she didn’t believe it herself.

A shaky breath wracked her shoulders as she pressed her lips together, looking down at the table. Wordlessly, she laced their fingers together to grip him like some kind of lifeline she never wanted to let go of. Swiping away some of the rogue tears on her cheeks, she released the breath she’d been holding since she twenty-one.

“Thank you.”

“Come on, no tears.” He gave her hand one last squeeze before letting it go and raising finger to beckon the approaching waiter, “Let’s have some wine. You still like pinot grigio, right?” As she gave him a wordless nod whilst sniffling, the corner of his lips quirked up into a smile, “I saw one on the menu that I always thought you’d like…”

Maybe a part of her had wondered if anything had remained between them after she’d left, if there would be any spark after more than a decade apart, but the fragile flame had burned out. And that was okay. Having him as a friend was far more preferable to having him as a ghost that haunted her most self-loathing thoughts.

Dinner had gone well as they split a bottle of wine and caught up on everything that they’d missed in one another’s life. She’d learned that he’d gone into cardiothoracic surgery like he’d always wanted, and they’d talked about her complete change in career path; it didn’t surprise him in the least that she’d gone to eastern Europe for that brief period as she figured out what had come next.

Quickly, they’d fallen back into an easy rapport; it wasn’t a surprise to her since they’d been friends for a time before dating. They talked about his ex-wife, she’d mentioned Steve, and it had all just been nice. Because he was a staunch gentleman, and because neither of them had been quite ready to say goodbye again, he’d walked her home.

The little restaurant hadn’t been far from her building, so they braved the last dregs of winter to stroll down the sidewalk, side by side. It felt like she was riding some kind of high as they walked the sparsely populated streets—it had gone better than she ever could have imagined. It felt nice to have an old friend back in her life.

Stopping in front of the door to her apartment, since he’d insisted upon walking her up and ‘not just abandoning her on the stoop,’ she shook her head with a little smile, “You really didn’t have to walk me up—”

“Maggie.” There was a wry smile on his bearded face as he glanced down at the shorter woman.

“Hm?”

“Just let me be a gentleman.” His laugh set her off as he bumped her arm gently with a short reminder, “You know my mom would kick my ass if she found out that I let a girl walk home alone.”

“Well, thank you.” Maggie grinned, playing with the chain strap of her purse that she’d hooked over her shoulder, “For everything. I had a great time—it was really good to see you, Nick.”

The second hug wasn’t nearly as awkward as the first one they’d shared in the tiny aisle of the grocery store that afternoon. It felt comfortable; this was something that her body remembered—the warmth, the familiar Armani cologne he’d always worn, the way his arms wound around her like vines on a tree.

“You too.” Leaning down, he pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek as the stairwell door opened with a metallic creak. Looking to the source of the noise, Maggie felt her entire body tense up as Bucky stilled in the doorway, his eyes trained on her and Nick.

She hadn’t seen him since he’d returned home from God-knows-where—perhaps she was bitter because maybe that jealous fragment of her heart had convinced herself that he and his new girlfriend had gone on some love getaway. She always managed to hurt her own feelings worse than anyone else actually could.

Bucky’s face was unreadable, and she flinched internally because she simply knew what he’d assume based on what he was seeing. Even if it was whatever he assumed, it wasn’t like it mattered. He had someone else anyway, so he had no reason to be concerned about whoever she associated with.

Nick’s eyes were wide as he recognized the only other occupant of the hallway, “Oh, hey! Aren't you the Wint—”

Even if she and Bucky were no longer friends, let alone a ‘thing,’ she knew how hard he’d been trying to divest himself of the old name he’d had forced upon him and ever since she’d read that file, she’d been on high alert. Cutting him off before he could finish the phrase, she stepped out of his embrace and half-gestured to the man a few feet away, “Nick, this is my…”

Trailing off, she floundered briefly on what to call him. What was he to her anymore? It was certainly a loaded question. What could she say to her own ex-boyfriend without making things weird while staying honest to the facts?

‘Oh, this is my ex-fuck buddy.’

‘This is my old almost-boyfriend.’

‘Meet Bucky, he’s my old old-almost-fiancé’s ex-bestfriend.’

‘He’s my neighbor that I am definitely still in love with despite knowing that I shouldn’t be because he’s taken.’

Nothing really seemed to roll off the tongue, so she lamely settled for a simple: “Bucky.”

“Your Bucky?” Nick raised an eyebrow as he looked down at her, slightly amused by how flustered she’d quickly become at the interaction.

Annoyed, with her face flushed red as she shot him a withering look, Maggie clarified, “My neighbor, Bucky.”

She looked back to the super soldier’s piercing eyes as they moved between her and Nick slowly, like some predator seeing its prey after losing sight of it for just a little too long. After a moment, he gave them a curt nod with his jaw clenched tightly before wordlessly entering his own apartment.

Staring at the closed door like she was waiting for it to tell her its deepest secrets, Maggie let out an inaudible sigh. They really needed to talk.

“Doesn’t talk much, does he?”

Looking back to Nick, she shook her head with a sad, soft sigh, “No, he’s a man of very few words.”

At least, he was to everyone except her—or at least, it used to be everyone except her. Maybe she’d been replaced. The idea of that being the truth was more painful than she’d thought it’d be.

Nodding towards the silent, closed door, Nick asked, “You know him well?”

There was a split second where she contemplated lying, avoiding the question because it didn’t matter anymore, but she couldn’t do that to him again. No, she had to be forthcoming with him if she wanted to try and keep the delicate friendship they’d begun rebuilding over dinner.

She’d hurt him far too badly in the past just to lie to him again.

Taking a deep breath, she admitted, “Yeah, we…were kind of seeing each other a while ago.”

He didn’t need to know the specifics—that was enough for him to get the general idea. Letting out a quiet, slightly disappointed laugh, he nodded, “I could tell.” At her look of surprise, a brow raised in silent query, he continued, “He kind of looked like he wanted to deck me.”

“That’s just his face.” Maggie responded automatically with a little half-smile. There was a dejected softness in his eyes as he looked at her and she felt her shoulders fall. Regret laced her tone as she began quietly, “Nick, I—”

“We never could get the timing right, could we?” There was a sad acceptance that had come over him as he shook his head. It seemed like that had been a running theme in her love life for as long as she could remember; everything was always just a little too late.

He hadn’t even needed her to say a word just to see how she felt for her next-door neighbor.

With an exhale, her shoulders deflated slightly at his astute observation. It was melancholic that, after all this time, they were finally on the same page about still being on different ones.

“No. I guess not.” With a sad smile, she shook her head. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she was honest as she quietly added, “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.”

“Me too.” Nick agreed, pulling her in for one last, tight hug. She squeezed her eyes closed, looping her arms around his slim waist as he rested his chin atop her head. She could hear the low tenor of his voice as he reminded her, “Take care of yourself and don’t be a stranger, okay?”

“I won’t.” She agreed—and for once, in response to that question, she wasn’t lying.

After a long moment, he stepped back. His hands skated down her arms, one of them squeezing one of hers before taking a few steps backwards towards the stairs, “See you around, Mags.”

Just before he opened the heavy, metal door, Maggie gave him one last grateful smile as she whispered, “See you, Nicky.”

There was a sad relief that filled her at his departure, at the neat bow they’d finally tied around the shreds of what their relationship had once been; at least she hadn’t hurt him again. But now there was one last obstacle to conquer; she was in love with James Buchanan Barnes and that scared her more than anything.

However, there was no time like the present.

With a deep breath, Maggie squared her shoulders as she strode to his door and gave several gentle raps—she knew he’d hear them—before stepping back with her arms crossed tightly. She was still dressed in her ‘date’ clothes, but it was now or never. A fire had been lit under her and she had to say it. He needed to know.

#fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #mcu fanfic #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #bucky barnes x original character #bucky barnes x original female character #bucky barnes x oc #bucky barnes x ofc #bucky barnes #original character #original female character #oc #ofc #misshoneybee: mosaic broken hearts #misshoneybee: you're my achilles heel #misshoneybee: series #ymah #did the love affair maim queue too?

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justthehiddleswrites · 2 years

Text

Wrong Phone, Who Dis? | Ben Barnes x OFC

Pairing: Ben Barnes x OFC (Madelyn)

Summary: After a sidewalk collision, Ben and Madelyn end up with each other’s phone. They quickly right things but find the chance encounter has had more of an effect.

Warnings: excessive fluff, and curse word or two.

THANK YOU FOR READING, IF YOU ENJOYED, PLEASE CONSIDER COMMENTING AND/OR REBLOGGING.

Madelyn only bothered to look up from her phone when it rattled out of her hands and onto the London sidewalks when a shoulder hit hers hard. Another phone clattered next to hers.

“Ow.” She rubbed her shoulder and reached down to grab her phone, tucking it into her coat pocket.

“I’m terribly sorry.” The soft British accent hit her ears.

Madelyn’s head snapped to the source, blond curls covering half her face until she pushed them out of her way. The man was tall, with dark hair and impossibly dark eyes. She gulped. “A.. apology accepted.”

“Is this Kings Road?” he questioned, grabbing his phone and tucking it into his coat pocket.

She stood there, dumbstruck for a moment. “Kings Road?” Then she snapped back to her senses. “KINGS ROAD.”

“Kings Road.” His eyes darted. “I’m running late, so if you could point me in the direction...” He flashed her a smile, his nose scrunching up.

“Uh… end of this block, take a left.”

The smile on his face widened. “Thanks.” He gave her a quick hug before taking off at a jog. He called after her. “Sorry about the shoulder.”

Madelyn watched him until he disappeared around the corner, giving a little wave. “Bye handsome hot guy with no name.” She muttered to no one but herself before continuing on her way to her job.

Ben’s publicist stood outside the building, tapping his foot against the pavement. Ben held up his hands in a pleading gesture. “I can explain, I—”

“Let me guess, you got lost.” His publicist gave him a knowing glare. “You have no sense of geography. Get inside. The interview is starting.”

Ben nodded and headed into the building.

Madelyn hung her coat on the hook by her front door after a long shift at the library where she worked. She fished her phone out of her pocket to inspect it for damage. At that point, she noticed, the case was black and not navy like hers. She turned the phone on to find ten missed text messages. The first one read:

You have my phone.

The words stared back at Madelyn from the small screen on her desk. It was correct. The phone she currently possessed was not hers. But the identity of the true owner eluded her. The phone was locked. She continued to flick away the text messages until she found this one.

Code is 568399. Please respond.

She quickly punched in the code and the screen and responded to the text with a smirk.

Wrong phone, who’s dis?

Madelyn watched the three little dots blink on the screen while the other person typed a response.

The rightful owner of the phone currently in your possession. Perhaps you remember me? The gentleman who collided with you on the way to Kings Road?

Madelyn blushed as she typed.

I remember you. Or more specifically, my shoulder, remember you. Did you get where you needed to?

More blinking dots.

Yes. Eventually. Now, the matter of switching phones. Madelyn thought about that, smirking.

What will you pay for ransom?

What are you asking?

A meal with you?

I am willing to offer a cup of coffee and a pastry of your choice.

Madelyn tapped her nail on the table, considering her options. She typed back a response.

You drive a hard bargain, but I will accept your terms. Brickwood 7, tomorrow morning. Do you need directions?

What about tonight?

Can’t I’m busy. You’ll have to struggle through the next 8 hours or so without your beloved… She quickly scrolled through his apps. …Farmville. Really FARMVILLE? Who even plays Farmville anymore? Not even my gran plays Farmville!

Ben glanced down at the phone, mildly amused and offended at the same time.

I happen to LIKE Farmville. Fine tomorrow.

He slumped in his chair.

See you then. Sweet dreams, Farm boy.

Ben groaned and tucked Madelyn’s phone into the pocket of his jacket so he wouldn’t forget it in the morning, and then headed off to bed.

Madelyn settled onto the sofa, the phone not too far away. She lied when she said was busy. Unless catching up on whatever trashy movie she found streaming counted as busy. It had been months since she had gone out on an honest to god date. After too much leftover Thai food and not enough beer, she fell asleep.

Madelyn came careening into Brickwood at 7:05 the next morning, her long tangly blonde curls flying behind her. The morning started with her sleeping through her alarm, using body wash instead of shampoo, and then having to go back to her apartment halfway to retrieve the phone.

To her mild shock, Kings Road guy was nowhere to be seen. She pouted a bit, brow furrowed as she gets in line. Surely, he didn’t come and go. She still had his phone. Madelyn continued to look around the small and increasingly bustling cafe for him.

At nearly quarter past seven, the door flung open, and he stepped through, his dark hair mussed. She stared as he glanced about the cafe. With a semi-dazed expression, Madelyn waved him down. Ben’s face broke out in an expression of relief. He quickly made his way to the front of the line, where she waited.

“I am terribly sorry.” He huffed. “I got lost.”

Madelyn raised a brow. “You got lost? Didn’t you use a map? Do you not live here?” They scooted up a spot in line.

Ben’s cheeks turned a light shade of pink. “Ah… yes to all. I have no excuse other than I have no geography?” He shrugs his shoulders. “I have all my life. As you saw the other day.”

The cashier cleared his throat to signal it was their turn to order. Madelyn hustled forward. “Ummm…” she scanned the menu. “medium vanilla latte and… orange cranberry muffin.” She gestured to Ben, who was studying the menu.

“Pot of tea and a cheese toastie.” He smiled.

Madelyn pulled her wallet from her purse, but Ben stopped her hand.

“Please. As payment for being late.” He smiled at her and Madelyn nodded, tucking her wallet back into her purse.

Ben paid as Madelyn found an empty table. As she sat down, he extended his hand. “The name is Ben.”

She took his hand and shook with a firm handshake and they both sat. “Madelyn.”

His nose scrunched up as he smiled. “Madelyn. It’s nice to know the name of the ransomer of my phone.”

“Nice to put a name with shoulder I ran into.” She matched his smile. “Although I have to comment, you promised me coffee and pastry. Tea and a cheese toastie are neither.”

“Well, I don’t care much for sweets and always tea over coffee. Besides, you are partaking of coffee and pastry of your choice, so the promise has been fulfilled.”

Madelyn chuckled. “Semantics. You wouldn’t be a barrister, would you?” A server came by to drop off a pot of tea for Ben, Madelyn’s latte, and the food.

Ben laughed. “No. Definitely not a barrister.”

“Then where were you running to, oh so late, on Kings Road?” She sipped her latte and hummed. “Sweet caffeine and sugar.”

Ben watched her indulge in her coffee as he fixed his tea to his liking. “An interview.”

“Oh, like a job interview?” She perked up.

“Something like that.” Ben fibbed. He was hesitant to share what he did for a living and rather enjoyed this casual conversation. “I’m a musician, among other things.”

“Oh, an artist.” Madelyn smiled. He looked like an artist. There was something almost soulful about him. “I work at the library.”

Ben smirked at her. “Where are your glasses? And the messy bun and stern look?”

Madelyn narrowed her eyes. “Quiet, sir.” Her lips twitched. “I’ve heard all the jokes.” She did her best to hold the face. “Okay, I can’t keep a straight face. I have perfect vision and a messy bun with this much hair hurts my neck.” she pulled out a hunk of her hair, tangled from her morning “jog” to the cafe. “Not all of us were born with perfect glossy lock with just enough body.”

Ben turned to his left and then to his right and then pointed to his chest. “Me?”

“Yes you, Mr. Perfect Hair.”

He took a big bite of his toastie. “It’s good product.” His mouth full of food as he smiled. Ben swallowed the bite and leaned over the table. “So, do you have the goods?”

“The goods?” Her brow furrowed. “OH! The goods.” She dug in her purse and pulled out Ben’s phone.

He grabbed for the phone, but Madelyn pulled it back. “Hey! No grabby hands. This is a mutual exchange.”

Ben pulled Madelyn’s phone and placed it on the table. “Nice wallpaper background. Boyfriend?”

“Brother. An Aston Martin? Seemed very cliche.”

“It’s called manifestation. Now, slide the phone across the table.” He raised a brow. “Slowly. And no one gets hurt.”

She chuckled for a moment before matching his expression. “We will exchange in the middle. No funny business or the phone gets it.”

In what was one of the most bizarre exchanges ever, Madelyn slid the cell phone across the table and Ben did the same. As soon as they reached the middle of the table, the two of them scrambled to grab their respective phones. Ben made a show of taking the phone and pressing it to chest.

“I will never let you go again!” He quickly unlocked the phone and started flipping through apps. “You didn’t dig through it?”

She looked at him, bewildered. “No, I didn’t. It’s personal. Did you dig through mine?!” Panicked, she unlocked her phone and can’t see anything.

He smirked at her as he pocketed his phone. “Is there something I should have looked at?”

“No….” Madelyn responded, placing her phone in her purse. “So I guess, that’s it.” She hoped she didn’t sound disappointed.

Ben pondered her words. He guessed it was. But he found himself wanting to linger in her company. “I guess it is.” He cleared his throat. “I am sure you have better things to do than sit around with a man who has no sense of direction and can’t tell which phone is his.”

She nodded. “Yeah, I should head off to work. The books won’t read themselves.” Madelyn gulped down the last of her now lukewarm latte and stood. Ben followed suit. She extended her hand to him. “Thank you for returning my phone and it was a pleasure to meet you.”

He smiled a slight smile and gripped her hand firmly. “The same goes for me. Perhaps I’ll run into you again someday.” He closed his eyes for a moment, realizing what he said. “Not literally. In a metaphorical sense.”

She giggled and pulled back her hand. “That would be… nice. Thank you for breakfast and…” Madelyn wondered what else to say that wouldn’t sound either awkward or borderline stalker. “… until next time!”

Well, that failed, she thought to herself as she heaved her purse onto her shoulder and headed for the exit. The cafe was loud and crowded now as the morning rush was in full force. Madelyn glanced back for a moment at Ben, sitting down, sipping his tea while he thumbed through what she assumed was missed messages. There was a small flutter in her stomach, but she pushed that far away, in the same place where she kept her irrational fear of vertical blinds.

“He’s a pretty boy, but not for you, Madelyn.” she scolded herself before heading out the door.

Ben glanced up to see if Madelyn had left yet, but he couldn’t spy her in and among the people. With a sigh, he finished his food and tea and headed about his day.

Two Weeks Later

Madelyn flopped down at the table across from her friend Stephanie, just as her phone buzzed in her hand. “Hold on.” She held up a finger to pause her as she glanced at the phone to see a text message from an unfamiliar number.

Wrong phone, who’s dis?

It took a few seconds for everything to click, and then she started giggling and typing back. Stephanie leaned over the table. “What’s so funny?”

“Hold on, I’ll show you.” She quickly typed up a message.

Remember me, the girl who babysat your phone one time?

She showed her phone to Stephanie. “It’s that guy I told you about.” Madelyn beamed. “Ben…”

“You are swooning.” Stephanie smirked. “You are swooning over Phone Guy.”

“I am not—” Another text came onto her screen.

I have a gig coming up this weekend and I was wondering if you might want to come. I have some extra tickets.

Madelyn squealed. “He’s inviting me to a gig. Do I say yes?” Stephanie opened his mouth, only for Madelyn to continue. “I’m saying yes.”

I would like that. Send the details and I will be there.

Stephanie sat there watching Madelyn type out everything with a bemused smirk. “Can I speak now? Are you done mooning over this guy?”

“Ben.”

“Ben. Phone Guy.”

Madelyn furrowed her brow. “Ben Barnes. The struggling musician.”

Stephanie stared at Madelyn, somewhat dumbfounded. “Wait, that is Phone Guy’s last name?” she pulled out her own phone.

“Yeah….” Madelyn’s furrow deepened.

Stephanie placed her phone on the table and spun it towards Madelyn. “Is this your struggling musician, Ben?”

“How did you?” She gazed down at what had to be a professional photo of Ben, looking all kinds of delicious in a black t-shirt and jeans. “Does he have a website?”

Stephanie’s mouth fell open. “I swear…. you’re my smartest friend…” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Do you even WATCH television?”

“Hey! I was watching a documentary the other day. Why?”

“Let me ask one more question before I answer that. Did Ben actually say the words ‘struggling musician’ or did you fill in some blanks?”

Madelyn replayed the conversation in her head, like she did on a weekly basis. “He said he was a musician, among other things. I assumed he meant server or bartender or something.”

“Or how about a movie and TV star? Dorian Gray? Prince Caspian? For fuck’s sake, you are a librarian!”

“You mean… he’s like a celebrity?! But he seemed so normal!”

Stephanie snorted her drink. “Ow. That went up my nose, Madelyn. Warn a girl. I mean, he is a human being. Not an alien. I hope he seemed normal. So what are you going to wear to this gig?”

“Clothes.”

“Clothes for a gig with hot Phone Guy TV movie star you have been swooning over for the last two weeks.” Stephanie shook her head. “I am going through your closet.”

“Fine, but nothing too revealing.”

“Trust me, Madelyn.”

Madelyn tugged at the hem of the dress Stephanie pulled from the back of her closet.

“Why do you never wear this?” Stephanie held up the black bodycon dress.

Madelyn blushed and scoffed. “That was for a Halloween costume!”

“Well, now it is for your date.” She shoved it at her friend.

“This is not a date!”

Stephanie threw a look at her. “It is so a date.”

“He invited me to hear him play music. With a bunch of people.”

Stephanie grabbed a pair of kneehigh suede boots and an oversized tweed blazer and handed them to Madelyn. “He invited you. A person he met twice. He personally invited to come and listen to him play music.”

“Oh, shit.”

“Precisely. Now wear the dress and everything else.”

When Madelyn arrived at the venue, she found the ticket window where her tickets were. An employee led her to a small table near the stage with a sign reading “Reserved”

“Can I get you something to drink?”

“Ah…” she quickly scanned the menu. “Whisky neat.”

The server left, and Madelyn surveyed the venue. It was a small jazz club with the almost required haze in the air and a small raised stage with a piano and guitar.

“Your drink.” The server set the glass on top of a napkin of the tabletop.

“Thank you.” She fished out a few bank notes, but the server waved her off.

“The bill is taken care of.”

“Oh.”

By that time, the rest of the patrons sat at the tables scattered around. The lights on the stage go up as the rest of the lights dimmed. A young lady came onto the stage and tapped a microphone.

“Everyone, Ben Barnes.” Everyone clapped as Ben took the stage.

Madelyn grinned as she watched him hop behind the piano wearing a short-sleeved button down over a white t-shirt and faded black jeans. He caught her eye for just a moment and flashed a smile. Madelyn’s cheeks heated.

Over the next hour, she sat enraptured, listening to Ben sing jazzy original songs and covers of pop songs. She sipped her whisky, not wanting to gulp it down as she already felt a buzz. Madelyn nibbled on some chicken wings, trying her best to not drip on her dress. Which proved difficult as she fumbled every time Ben glanced her way.

Ben grinned throughout his performance. It was a small group but an enthusiastic one. He couldn’t stop himself from stealing glances at Madelyn off to the side. Part of him regretted reserving a table for her so close to the stage it was rather distracting. As the performance came to a close, Ben grabbed the mic to address the audience.

“Thank you, everyone, for coming out and supporting me tonight. I have one more song and I am dedicating it to a special someone. Hopefully, they know who they are.” He sat back down at the piano and hit the opening chords.

“Can anybodddddyyyy….” Ben belted out the iconic lyrics. “find meeee… somebody toooo… love.”

Madelyn flushed red and glanced around the room to see several others doing the same. She took a deep breath and calmed herself down. You barely know this man, Madelyn. It’s not like that, she thought. After that, she enjoyed the song and clapped along with everyone as Ben took a bow and hopped off stage. She wanted to thank him for the tickets and the refreshments before leaving, but they immediately swarmed Ben. After waiting for several minutes in hopes the crowd would disperse and it didn’t, so she downed the rest of her whisky, left a tip for the lovely server and headed for the entrance.

Ben tried to make a beeline for Madelyn, but got caught up by several people. He strained to see if she was still at the table, but by the time the crowd cleared a bit, the table was empty. His eyes darted around the club to see a cloud of blonde curls exiting the club.

“Give one moment, please.” Ben commented as he headed to the door with haste, shrugging off a few more people with hasty apologies.

The night air pricked at his skin. As he glanced to the right, Ben spied Madelyn making her way down the sidewalk. “MADELYN!” He called out as he jogged to meet her.

She turned at the sound of her name and saw Ben hustling towards her. Madelyn pushed her hair off her face. “What are you doing out here without a coat?”

He furrowed his brow. “You didn’t say goodbye.” Ben stated matter-of-factly, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Madelyn blinked back at him. “Uh… I didn’t think it would… All those people were… You came all the way out here so we can say goodbye?”

Ben grinned at her. “Well, yes, and this…” In what was surely an instant but felt like minutes, he cupped her face and leaned down to kiss her hesitantly.

In shock, Madelyn neither advanced the kiss nor recoiled, instead savoring the moment. As they part, she can’t help but have her lips curve up into a smirk. “So… that last song?”

Ben’s chest heaved as his heart pounded in his chest. “Did you think I meant it for anyone but you?”

“But you don’t even know me.”

“Then let me learn. A proper date. You and me, dinner, a movie. Whatever you want.”

“BEN!”

They both turned to the name to see an irate man in a suit, glaring at them. Ben chuckled.

“My manager. I should go.” He kissed her cheek. “Can I call you tomorrow?”

Madelyn nodded, still reeling from what had just happened. “Yeah… I mean yes.” A giggled bubbled up.

“Yes?” Ben grinned. “Yes!”

“BENJAMIN!”

He winced. “Got to go. Call you tomorrow.” One more quick kiss and then he jogged back to the club, glancing back at Madelyn.

“Is that the girl?” Ben’s manager asked once he reached the door.

“Yeah…” Ben watched as Madelyn disappeared into the crowd.

“And are we seeing her again?” He pressed his lips together, watching Ben getting starry eyed.

“I’m calling her tomorrow.”

“Good, then this was worth the trouble. Now come back inside, you’re not even wearing a jacket, you’ll catch a death.”

#ben barnes #ben barnes fanfiction #ben barnes fanfic #ben barnes x ofc #ben barnes x reader #ben barnes x you #ben barnes fluff

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penwieldingdreamer · 5 years

Text

Pretending?

So this is the first part of my very first story on Tumblr. I hope you will like the introduction of our main characters. Of course neither Ben nor his family and friends belong to me, which is why I’m doing this ;)

Summary:

For the longest time Louise’s mother wants her to settle down, Ben hasn’t been in a serious relationship for a while. Their mother’s decide to take matters into their hand and try to set them up, but turn about is a fair game. Though are they really pretending?

Part 1

June 2020, California

“See, I knew you guys couldn't just pretend to be in love.” Jack clapped his older brother on his back, earning a groan from the dark haired actor. “If I had to make a bet, I'd say it was Christmas 2017. Mum was so excited.”

His former co-star and good friend John stood behind them, shaking his head at their antics. “I saw it, when Ben and Louise came around for that barbecue before we started filming. We had to get to know each other so I called him up.”

Ben just rolled his eyes, not believing his friends starting a bet on the second most important day in his life. Thankfully Skandar Keyens stopped them. “Guys shut up! There comes the bride.” He pointed to the entrance of the church where the bridesmaids already moved forward after the flower girls and ring bearers.

His eyes widened when Louise came into few, a sweet smile gracing her lips and her eyes shining with love. Before his inner eye he could see all the moments he felt himself falling more and more in love with the angel that came into his life four years ago.

~¤~

Agust 2016, London

Her blonde tresses up in a messy bun, the clear rimmed glasses perched on her delicate nose she looked through the pictures on the digital camera. A soft smile on her lips as she thought about her sisters upcoming wedding. Hopefully Jenny would like her ideas for the wedding cake and decorations.

“This is where I always find you, my darling girl.” her mother spoke, the corners of her lips moving upwards. “Either you're in the kitchen or your art room. When will you think of finding a nice young man for yourself Louise?”

Sighing Louise put her camera down, moving away from the table with the cake. She put her hands out, taking her mothers and sitting down on the small couch. “Mum, you know how much I love you and that you're just looking out for me, but I'm twenty-seven years old. Old enough to look for someone and settle down, which I still got plenty of time for.” Louise said, holding up her hand when her mother wanted to interject. “But at the moment I need to plan out Jenny's wedding, there's no time for any guy right now.”

“Why don't you come to Tricia's work party? Her family will be there and her oldest son is coming back from America.” Angela grinned at her daughter, hoping to sway her in any way.

With a shake of her head the blonde stood from her position. “I'll need to get the flower compositions done for Jenny. Maybe you could take her to the florists to see which ones will fit her theme the best.” This left no room to argue any more, hopefully her mother would get the hint.

She had met the oldest son of Tricia and Thomas Barnes briefly at one of the gettogethers their mothers organized regularly. He was nice and gentlemanly, everything a woman could want for in her better half, but even with all the pushing her family did, she wouldn't let herself get tangled up with a guy.

“But darling” her mother started, but was stopped by the hand of her father Matthew. “Angela, leave her be. She'll come around eventually.”

He smiled at his youngest daughter. She was the apple of his eye. Well both his daughters were, but Jenny already had someone to look after her, so it left Louise to be looked after by her daddy.

They always had a special bond.

When she was a little girl, wherever her father went, the blonde would follow him. She even went to his office in the city, to watch him work.

Matthew Dennings worked as architect and sometimes interior designer, which why they had added modern glass extensions to their townhouse in Holland Park. Everything that was in their home was build and designed by his own hands.

A talent he obviously gave his younger daughter. She loved art and design, crafting things and was mostly found in the sun lit art studio or in the kitchen, taking pictures of her cooked or baked creations.

“Oh, all right.” Angela sighed, getting up from the settee as well. “The two of you have always been as thick as thieves.” She left the kitchen after dropping a kiss on her daughter's forehead and one on her husbands cheek.

Matthew watched his daughter working, looking over combinations for the flower arrangements. “You know, your mother and I just want you to be safe and taken care of, should something happen to us. Jenny is a lawyer, as is Christopher. They've got their own jobs and their own home.”

“So, you're saying that because I'm still living in this house and earning money with my freelance works I can't take care of myself?”

Shaking his head, her father walked over, pulling the young woman into a tight embrace. “That is not what I meant. I just think that it would make your mother very happy if you went to Tricia's party and get to know her sons a bit.”

Reluctantly Louise moved her head up and down on her father's broad chest, giving in with a soft sigh.

“Okay.”

~¤~

“Darling, are you really sure you can make that trip? I don't want you to exert yourself.” Tricia Barnes was concerned for her eldest son. Ben had told her that he was going to have to get his wisdom teeth removed – that was two days ago. Now he wanted to come home to London for a short visit, before he had to get back to filming.

A soft, yet slightly pained chuckle escaped the dark haired actor. “I'm sure Mum. The doctor cleared me to fly, so I'll see you some time tonight when I get in.”

“Don't you want us to get you from Heathrow? There'll be so much traffic, it's a Friday night.”

Rubbing the ice pack along his right cheek, Ben told his mother No. He'd probably just take the Tube to his family home. “Don't worry. It's a late flight so it's probably gonna be midnight when we touch down.”

“If you say so Ben.” his mother sighed, knowing there was no argument left. “Have a save flight and drop a quick message when you touched down, so I know you're okay.”

He agreed and hung up his phone. His bags were packed and he just needed to get to the airport. With the surgery he couldn't work right now and filming was currently on hold. It was good to get back home again and see his family, spending time with his parents and his younger brother Jack.

They always were close and now with him living in Los Angeles for longer periods he wasn't able to be his little brothers shadow, not like he used to. And even with all the friends he had in the business, he felt alone at times. Ben was glad to meet up with those he left back in London, enjoying just being Benjamin Thomas Barnes the guy living in a nice neighbourhood, whose mother was a relationship therapist and whose father was a professor of psychiatry, and not Ben Barnes the actor, that held millions of female hearts in the palm of his hand.

The shrill ringing of the door bell brought him out of his musings, the taxi that would bring him to the airport had arrived. He stood up from the couch, grabbed his luggage and left the condo he called his home in LA. With one last glance Ben closed the door and made his way over to the driver.

Now, home he'd go.

~¤~

let me know what you guys think :)

Character Inspirations:

Louise

Jenny

Angela

Matthew

@a-scrumptiouslywingedstudent

@oliviacah

#ben barnes imagine #ben barnes #original female character #ben barnes story #ben barnes x ofc #pretending?#mywriting #chapter 1

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spaghettificationandpretzels · 1 year

Text

A Voice Through the Nothingness Part 2

Series Masterlist

Part 1

Contains: Fluff, angst, protective Frank

4.0K words

Comment if you want to be tagged or follow #a voice through the nothingness.

“There’s not a word yet for old friends who’ve just met.” - Jim Henson

Hazel smiled as she sat next to Billy's bed, it had only been a week since she had started reading to him but it had become a welcome moment of peace. She took his hand in hers and placed the next book on the bed, it was Death on the Nile this time, "it looks like we're opening up next week."

Billy was elated, he wanted to cheer but he couldn't. He knew his friends would love Hazel. He could see the meeting in his head, Frank would wrap her in one of his bone crushing bear hugs, Curtis would extend his hand with a smile and Karen would insist on drinks at the bar with Matt and Foggy.

Each time Hazel's voice had floated into his mind and her warm hand linked in his, he had focused all his energy on just one squeeze but so far, it had been fruitless. His frustration grew as he always managed to do it when she wasn't there. Sometimes it was a moment after she left, sometimes it took all day for him to manage a twitch but he was going to do it.

He knew the other voice too, Lizabeth's, and he wondered if she looked as fed up as she always sounded, "you should tell me about your day, he's probably getting sick of your murder mysteries by now."

Hazel huffed, "I don't think he wants to hear that."

"Of course I do." That was all he wanted to say but he couldn't even manage a sound. He wanted far more than what Hazel had said about herself in passing.

Lizzy sighed, "just give him the spark notes, then you can start the book."

Billy heard Lizabeth leave the room and he waited for Hazel's soft voice to fill his ears, "she won't let up until I do," Billy believed it, "well, it started bad because I spilt my coffee and it was the last of what I had at home so I had to brave the subway uncaffeinated. I thought I was going to commit homicide because the person next to me was chewing too loud."

He wanted to laugh, to tell her stories about being stuck in holes with men who behaved like pigs.

"Then I got a call about Barry's fancy food, it's on time so he'll get his clams before he grows legs and lungs and eats me in the middle of the night." Barry was Hazel's pufferfish, although Billy thought she was talking about a dog the first time she spoke of him.

He could say so many things, he wondered if she would be shy or smile and toss him something back.

"And I'm pretty sure a doctor just asked me on a date, I said yes." Billy could hear his huff, a woman that beautiful should know when she's being asked out.

"But he's kinda of ass so I'm just going to be nice and call it an early night. I'm far too busy to date right now, he'll you're the only man who listens to me and you're pretty much in a coma."

Billy could feel a charge in his chest, had he been awake, this would have been easy.

"Now that's enough about me, let's crack open a fresh book and settle in."

****

Billy knew it was coming, that dreaded chime, but he was planning on it. Days of matching each word with the passing seconds until he could count down until the bell rang, "well Billy, I'll be back tomorrow."

For the last twenty minutes, he put all his attention into just closing his hand. He thought it was another failed attempt as he felt Hazel's hand leave him but his hand ached and his fingers shifted and she paused.

Billy waited for her dismissal but it never came, "can you do that again?" He had a feeling that was coming and put every ounce of willpower into fulfilling her request. He must have done it because he felt her jump.

"Ok, alright. I going to get Lizzy in here, umm" Hazel's hand slipped for his briefly and he heard the call bell, "in a bit, Lizzy's going to swap with me. If you're doing this intentionally you need to squeeze her hand too, that's all I want you to focus on."

He steeled himself, just a little longer and he could rest. He heard footsteps, "what is it?" Lizabeth sounded worried.

"He squeezed my hand and I got him to do it again, I'm pretty sure this isn't just a reflect." Hazel sounded so hopeful, he wasn't going to disappoint her.

He could almost feel Lizzy waving her hand, "give him ere, Russo, I know we're not on as good of terms but can you let me know you're not bullshitting?"

Billy liked this woman, her hand was different from Hazel's, still warm and soft but different. He focused on Lizabeth's hand in his, going over his fingers as he willed them to move, "holy shit you're right."

Lizzy's hand was gone and Hazel's was back, "I'm going to go get the Neruo, you stay right there."

He was so proud of himself, it had taken every bit of his strength but he got to hear joy in Hazel's voice. "You won't need to do any more today, they'll let you have some time to get your strength back but they'll want to do some tests. I'll stay until the docs get here and when I get back tomorrow, we'll pick up where we left off. You did really good Billy. Your friends are going to be so proud of you."

The next few hours were a blur of tests and doctors. Hazel was right, they didn't ask him to do anything else but they talked him through everything. Just when he thought he couldn't take any more, it stopped and he was finally left in the peace he needed to prepare for the next day.

****

Hazel came in the next day with excitement in her voice, her hand sliding into his with a familiar warmth, "today's going to be a lot of work but I know you can do it. The docs are going be in here with us are they're going ask you some yes, no questions. All you have to do is show me what those answers feel like and we'll go from there."

He gave her a quick squeeze, "ok, you've got this, don't worry. And if you don't feel like it today, we can try again tomorrow."

There were footsteps, ones he had learned well in all his time at the hospital, "Hello Mr Russo, I'm doctor Waston, I think you've heard my voice before. Can you show Hazel what a yes is?"

He focused on holding on for a second longer than he had been, "yes?" He did it again, "ok Dr, long squezze for yes."

Now that his brain had a mission, it felt like his thoughts were racing and he tried to visualise things he wanted.

"Can you show Miss Moreau a no?" Billy

Billy's brain was working overtime now that he had her last name, he could focus on learning more about her. All he needed to do was get it to Frank. He clenched his hand and let go as fast as he could manage, "ok, short for no, can you do it again to let me know?" Billy was anxious to get this moving.

Hazel's voice grew clearer by the second, "yep, short squeeze for no." There was a pause and Billy thought he could hear something being passed to Hazel, "do you remember where we first met?"

He imagined clasping her hand in his as they walked down the street, hoping the vision would keep his fingers tensed, "yes. Was it on boat?" He released his hand and gave her a short squeeze.

"Was it on a train platform?" He was sitting across for her at the table inside the chocolate shop she had told him about. Hazel inhaled, "yes, good work Billy. You don't have long left now and then we'll let you rest. I'm going you ask some questions about your time here and I need to tell me if you remember, can you do that?" When the doctor realised that Billy was ready to communicate, they called his friends for questions they could ask him about conversations they had throughout Billy's stay.

He was still sitting in the chocolate shop. Hazel had a foam moustache and a fleck of chocolate on her plump lower lip, "do you remember when Frank told you about the new iPhone?"

Of course he did, Frank wouldn't shut up about how stupid it was, "that's good. Do you remember when you moved here? Frank and Curt were with you, they told you all about the room." He thought for a moment, white walls, lots of flowers, the nurses were dressed in light blue scrubs.

Billy searched his brain for something else, he was dancing with her at a fundraiser, she had carnations in her hair and her fingers were laced in his, "Great, that's really good Billy."

There was quiet for a moment, "I'm not asking him that, I think we should take a break." Hazel sounded angry, he didn't like it.

"Of course, I told you we'd take you lead on this."

But Billy didn't want to stop, he wanted to prove he could handle anything. He clenched his hand and then let go, hoping Hazel would pick up on what he was saying, there was a pause before she spoke, "ok Billy, I understand. Do you remember what happened the night you were hurt?"

As Billy tried to find the memories, he felt his heart race and then suddenly he couldn't feel Hazel's hand, all he could feel was agony, searing pain and breaking bones and the sound of Frank screaming his name over an unbearable ringing. Things faded fast, the darkness of pain dissolving to just darkness, he was grateful that the last thing he felt was Hazel's hand on his cheek.

****

Billy didn't sleep at all that night, the moment his awareness returned, it was like he couldn't stop his heart racing. All he wanted to do was open his eyes, to ground himself in the real world rather than the one that was pounding on the inside of his skull.

Waiting for Hazel's late afternoon visit was torture, he had spent his spare moments learning the sounds of everyone's footsteps, and Hazel's was by far his favourite.

Her hello made his heart skip, she had good news, "Hello Billy, I have good news and better news. The good news is that they're going to move you into one of the rebab rooms so you'll have more people to talk to, the better news is that the hospital will be open for visitors on Sunday."

He clenched his hand, hoping that the long press gave away that he was happy, "alright, now that we can talk, I can ask you if you want me to keep going with our murder mystery train, so you wanna pick up where we left off with Agatha?"

No, Billy didn't want that, he wanted to hear about her, he wanted to know how her date with the doctor went. He closed his hand then let go, "alright then, I'm hearing you loud and clear. We can figure this out, do you want to watch some TV? Your plan has all the channels."

Billy gave her another short squeeze, the frustration made him want to punch something. He racked his brain for an idea, combing through his thoughts until something popped up. He focused all his energy on lifting his thumb before tapping her skin quickly twice and once for longer, dot dot dash. He did it again, Hazel was an intelligent woman, she would understand that he was trying to do something even if she didn't understand what he was saying.

"Billy, are you using morse code?" He closed his hand hard, "ok, ok. U?" He could almost see her thinking, "oh, you want to hear about me?"

There was surprise in her voice, Billy couldn't decide if he liked that sound because, of course, he wanted to hear about her, "ok. Well I gave Barry his clams and he made a huge mess of his tank so I'm trying to teach him how to clean up, it's not going well. I tried a new coffee too, it's called rainbow bark roast, it's alright but I think I'm going to sign up for one the those subscription services where they send you different beans every month."

Billy wanted to tell her about the coffee he had at Anvil, about how his first frivolous purchase was an expensive coffee machine that looked like something off a steampunk spaceship. He was surprised at all the small things he wanted to share with Hazel, the little parts of his life he never thought mattered to anyone but he knew that would have mattered to her.

"Oh and I went on that date, not date, I told you about." He was happy at the disappointment in her tone, "it went exactly how I expected it to go, he talked about himself nonstop and then complained about the wine being too floral. I mean we all know wine tasting is bullshit, it's just fermented grape juice, I'd rather drink whiskey."

She liked whiskey, Billy thought to himself. There was a bar a few blocks away from Anvil that she'd love if he could only tell her about it. "You look like a guy Gin guy, I've never been able to get into it, it kinda smells like the ER on a busy friday."

He squeezed her hand then let go and she laughed, that was a sound he did like, "no? Then what do you like?"

He struck a blank, he knew what W was, he just couldn't remember it, "just take your time, all I need is a few letters." All the happy feelings vanished, he couldn't remember something as fucking simple as a letter. It didn't matter, Hazel was there with a solution.

"We can figure it out together. B for bourbon is one dash then three dots," he knew that, "S for scotch is three dots," he knew that too, "and W is.."

It came to him in a flash and he tapped it out as fast as he could, "there you go. Does that mean you're a whiskey man?"

He imagined sitting next to her on the couch, her hand in his while he enjoyed a quiet night with a glass in his hand, "ahh, a man after my own heart. You're pretty smart, you know, it would have never occurred to me to ask you to try Morse code. I have an idea, how about we got through the whole alphabet together? That was when you're friends can visit, you don't have to think so hard. Does that sound good to you?"

He hoped the force of his squeeze let her know all on its own, "great, let's start at the beginning."

****

It was slow going, but being able to tap words out opened up a whole new world. Hazel was fantastic at putting small things together. She learned Billy liked watching MMA, and the next day, she had the rundowns of all the fights that had been on since the lockdown. He was getting stronger, too, and he was slowly getting better at expressing his feelings through how hard he would squeeze her hand.

Billy's favourite times were when he got to talk about his friends, Anvil and all the places he had been. The information he could give was basic, as much as he wanted to pour his heart out, it was hard when it sometimes took him twenty minutes to tap out a seven letter word. That didn't matter to Hazel, she was always patient with him, he never felt like he couldn't answer her but she always gave him just enough of a challenge and helped him rise to it.

Sunday came in what felt like hours but Hazel never entered his room. He held on for visit her all day and the joy of hearing his friends did little to overcome her absence. Nevertheless, Frank's hand in his dulled the ache.

"Hey Bill, it's good to see you again, although from what your nurses said, you had plenty of company while we were away."

Billy wanted to tell Frank all about Hazel and once again, the frustration at his limitations was back. If he couldn't tell Frank, he would have to show him. He tapped out her name as fast as he could and Frank's laugh filled his ears, "oh, so you haven't seen me in two months and the first thing you want me to do is get your new best friend, that's cold Bill."

There was no malice in Frank's voice and the chime of the call bell filled him with hope. Lizzy's footsteps followed and Billy's heart fluttered, "yes Mr Castle, what can I get for you?"

Frank chuckled, "can you go get Hazel? Billy's asking for her."

Lizzy smiled, "I can, she'll be taking her break soon."

Billy heard her leave the room, and Frank's voice filled the space, "we were really glad to hear you had someone with you. Karen was trying to get in here without getting us into shit, but all she could come up with was a story on the hospital's cafe."

Hazel had told him about it, he knew that story wouldn't be a good one.

Frank's tone changed just as he finished telling Billy all about how Anvil was going and Frank's hand shifted from his as he stood up. "You must be Hazel?"

Billy's body filled with anticipation, "I am. It's so good to finally meet you. Billy speaks very highly of you."

Frank chuckled, "oh, I'm sure he does. I can I ask where you were today? Lizzy told me you're normal here in the afternoons."

Billy wanted to hit him, Frank was going to scare her off, "oh, I didn't want to intrude, I'm sure you two have so much to talk about."

Billy could hear a chair moving then Hazel's hand appeared in his free one, it was a strange sensation, she always sat on his left side.

"So Hazel, tell me about yourself." Billy understood where Frank was coming from but it didn't stop him from wanting to kick the shit out of him.

Hazel felt like Frank was trying to look into her soul, "there's not much to tell, I work in the peds ward which is just through the door and across the sky bridge, I live in Hell's kitchen and I have a fish named Barry."

"Why not work at Mercy if you live in Hell's Kitchen?" Billy was growing worried that Hazel would feel like Frank was judging her.

"I work with kids, Mercy's peds ward is pretty basic, plus I have some qualifications that fit better here."

Billy could tell Hazel didn't like where this was going, there was something in her tone that worried him, "I don't mean to be rude because you've done a lot for Bill but why did you want to help him?"

Hazel's hand left him and Billy felt powerless to do anything, "I met Billy on my first day in the city. Without his help, I would have spent the whole day lost. I never got the chance to thank him."

"So you did all this just for a few minutes of his time two years ago." Frank realised his slipup far too late

Billy felt the change in the air, "wait, how did you know it was two years ago?" Billy's thoughts were racing, the last thing he needed was for Hazel to be scared of him, where the fuck was Curt? He would have handled this so much better. "it was nice meeting you, Mr Castle but I think I better head back to work. I'm sure I can see Billy some time tomorrow."

Billy could tell she was scared and doing her best to hide it, he hoped to God Frank understood his as he clenched his hand and let go. Frank's chuckle filled the air, "that right Bill?" He did it again, "stay please. I'm sorry, you gotta see where I'm coming from?"

The tension faded from Billy's body and her warmth returned to his hand, "of course. It doesn't take a genius to know that Billy has a lot of money and you don't want someone you don't know taking advantage of your friend. I'm telling the truth when I say that all I want is to repay his kindness."

She sounded sad, Billy hated it, "that's all I wanted to hear. I probably wasn't the best person to do this, Curt's much better at the people thing than I am."

Hazel laughed, "yeah, I thought I was about to get yelled at. No offence."

Billy could feel the tension leave the room as they both relaxed, "none taken. Bill wants you to stay and so I do, plus you still gotta meet everyone else."

Hazel let out a nervous giggle, "Billy have me the rundown on everyone, Karen's your partner and Curt's your friend. There's also Matt and Foggy, and David and his family am I right?"

Frank nodded, "yeah, that's about it. We'll have to get you over to Avnil too, some of the guys want to thank you for all you've done."

Billy squeezed Frank's hand, hoping it was hard enough to hurt him just a little and Frank huffed, "you can't keep her all to yourself Bill."

If Billy could punch him, he would. "When do you need to do back to your shift?"

Hazel's absence didn't seem so bad now that he knew she was going to keep coming back, "twenty minutes but I'll be back at around six for my two hours with him."

"That's great, Curt and Karen will be here when they get off work. They can't wait to meet you."

Billy was suddenly unbelievably tired, the anxiety and fear fading to exhaustion, "the feeling is mutual."

When Billy came to again, he could hear more voices, all filled with affection.

"How did you manage to work out talking to him in Morse code?" Of course, Karen would ask that.

"It was all Billy, I was just there to catch it." Billy wanted to chastise her, she was the one who gave him the time of day and her faith, he wouldn't have been able to do it all by himself.

"We'll have to have you over for dinner, Sarah's been insisting that we should at least bring you lunch the moment the hospital reopen." He hoped Curt would be more subtle but he knew how it would go with the others, Frank would grunt out a request and Karen would give a demand that sounded like an invitation.

"Thank you for the offer but I couldn't possibly intrude. Maybe when Billy is up and moving around, we can revisit it." Hazel sounded a little taken aback.

"Of course, but I'm sure Billy's going to be more insistent than us." Billy was glad Curt didn't push it, he was smart enough to know that things couldn't get too personal or the ethics board was going to start pocking around, he had a plan for that but now wasn't the time.

Billy wasn't upset when the chime came, "Sadly, I have to head home but I'll be back tomorrow."

Hazel's hand left his, "you can't stay?"

Billy wanted to laugh, he knew Frank would warm to her quickly, "no, I can't stay on hospital grounds any longer," she paused, "I can rearrange my day tomorrow so we can talk more if you like?"

"Sounds good, we'll see you tomorrow."

Billy didn't know how to put his feelings into words, but he had a new mission, open his eyes and say hello.

Part 3

#a voice through the nothingness #billy russo #the punisher #fix it fic #billy russo imagine #billy russo fanfic #billy russo smut #ben barnes #the punisher fanfiction #billy russo x ofc #frank castle #karen page #everybody lives/nobody dies #curtis hoyle #daredevil

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artemiseamoon · 1 year

Text

Completed fics (so far)

Summer 2022 onward

Follow @artemiseamoon-updates and subscribe on A03* Registered users

There are older finished fics too, pre summed 2022, Just look at my masterlist.

If this is our destiny | Mayans | Angel, f reader, Manny

The longest ride | SOA | bad boyfriend Jax Teller x ofc ft Jon Bernthal as an omc

The world we no longer know (via Sideblog) | TWD | Shane Walsh, Ofc, Rick Grimes +

Nostalgia antiques (bonus chapter added) | Prospect 2018 | Ezra x f reader

Chasing the moon | Mandalorian | Mando, grogu

Back to Start | TF | Family man Frankie x family x ofc

A little bit of hope | TF | ex Santi, omc (fc Ben Barnes) , f reader

Nocturna Sanguine | Original w/ Ivar (Vikings) Roman (Hemlock Grove) and Kat Graham as my oc

After this is over | Narcos Mx | Smash & Grab crew, Walt, Calderoni, Slate (oc)

A lighthouse in the dark | triple frontier | Amara x Will, the guys

Milk & Honey | vikings | werebear Bjorn x ofc

Flirting with Danger | narcos mx | Ramón x rc

The barmaid & the Spaniard | Pero Tovar x rx

Outshine the sun | TF| Frankie Morales x ofc ft Benny

Neptunium | Vampire John Wick x f reader

Under a Golden sun | Benny Miller x f reader | omc x f reader

Wisteria & Moonlight | Werwolf! Will Miller x Ofc (ft Benny & more)

Elysian | Soulmate AU , Ezra x ofc

Stay in the light | Pitch black au | Johns x ofc

A place to call home | Isabella Bautista x ofc (narcos mx)

When the lights go out | Lights out | Omar Assarian x f reader

Sin | Narcos Mx | Bi! Pacho x f reader, Miguel x f reader

The Edge of Dawn | Donald Pierce x Brandi Cross (Ofc) | Modern western / post apocalypse au

Queen of poisons | Werewolf Ezra x the huntress Nyx

Death Kiss | Vampire Hunter Mayans, ofcs, | JC vampires au

Deep in the woods, the goat-man lives | Creature! ubbe x ofc | Vikings

Decided by fate | Tyler Rake x ofc

Labyrinth | Klonnie (a03)

Artes year of whump (plus fluff and comfort) challenge

What the heart wants | Secret sabra fic | Pero Tovar

Autumn in New York | Nick Vaughan x ofc

#completed fics #so far

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godlessandwrecked · 3 years

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✩‧₊˚ 𝐆𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓‧✩

☽ the darkling

the allure of darkness *

the line between good and bad has blurred for her. her every thought now is him; his gentle touch and hungry kiss, his whispered confessions in the dark. all she can think about is the both of them, stronger and more powerful than anything together.

the lust in hatred *

she hates him, his stupid savior complex, and his entitledness. she won’t waste an opportunity to make him mad, but what she wasn’t expecting is that, this time, he’d do something about it.

☽ kaz brekker

violets

she reminds him of home and all things good, but he can’t afford to be distracted by her. he he has a job to do. unfortunately for him, he can’t do it without her.

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shawty-writes-a-little · 2 years

Text

I am going to post one real angsty darkling two parter w ofc royal!reader au (bc I’m like an iPhone it only just gets worse) anyways but this one has everything death and suffering and crying and hurt comfort and potential cliffhanger just AAAAAAAAA

I’m gonna post it on my birthday on 25th 🕺

#let me know if you want to be tagged????#ofc I’ll post an angst fanfiction of an unhinged villain w self insert on my 15th birthday Wdym?#general kirigan x reader #darkling x reader #aleksander morozova x reader #shadow and bone fanfiction #Ben barnes x reader

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yespolkadotkitty · 3 years

Photo

Long Way to Go - Chapter 1

Ryan Brenner x OFC, Grace Lin

THANKYOU so much to @the-blind-assassin-12 for casting an eye over this and for friendship and enthusiasm and thankyou to @suchatinyinfinity and @something-tofightfor for being so friendly!

W/C: 1550 ~ Warnings: None? General audiences.

-----

It was hot as hell.

Sweat trickled down the back of my neck as I checked the thermometer in the pastry display case. Melted cream cakes didn’t sell, and I had to keep the served-cold meat bao from spoiling, but at least the fortune cookies, red bean cakes and mochi would be good for hours.

People bustled past, some holding mini electric fans, others cooling themselves with tall iced drinks from the nearby Starbucks.

I took a deep drink from my water bottle. I’d topped up the ice cubes just ten minutes ago and they were already just a memory.

The two girls I employed cleaned tables, their hair scooped up out of their faces, chattering about some party they were off to later, and which popular boys would be attending. Their giggling made me feel every one of my thirty-two years.

The overhead fan whirled silently as the bell above the door tinkled musically, letting in a gaggle of teenagers. They kept me busy for the next few minutes, ordering a bunch of fortune cookies and bao, barely looking up from their phones as they paid me.

As one of the teenagers pulled the shop door open, a gasp of music broke my train of thought (mango or green tea cookies tomorrow?). Curious, I peered out of the window.

On the street corner, sitting against the trunk of a large tree planted in the sidewalk, a man played guitar and sang.

His head was down, but thick, dark hair peeked out from under his battered hat, the brim shading his face from view.

His voice was deep and melancholy, and it pulled at something inside me. I kept the door open, listening.

Quite a little crowd had gathered around him. His fingers danced over the guitar strings effortlessly, his low, sultry voice carrying to me on what little there was of a breeze in New York in July.

I got lost in the lyrics for a moment, and must have leaned on the door too hard. The bell tinkled and I had to hang on to avoid falling face first on the pavement.

Smooth, Lin. Real smooth.

Without skipping a beat, the busker glanced my way. His eyes were the very dark brown of expensive Swiss chocolate, concern shining in their depths.

I smiled to let him know I was okay, and his gaze moved over me for a moment. I felt every second. His eyes smiled first, and then as he finished the last note in a line, his lips curved, too, a dimple flashing above his scruffy beard, and oh. I was a goner. He was the most beautiful man I’d seen in a long time, and this was NYC, so that was saying something.

“Hey, Earth to Grace! You gonna stand there all day?”

The Brooklyn twang jerked me back to reality and I blinked, looking into the face of my delivery guy. “Sorry, Mikey.”

The bulky Asian-American grinned, casting a thumb at the busker. “He’s all right.”

I tore my gaze away again. “He sure is.”

Mikey wheeled his little hand truck to the storeroom and started to unload as I served a young woman who had questions about allergies. She read my ingredients lists and decided on three pork floss buns, the ones hot from the heated plate. Just going near it made me near-recoil with the steam that bathed my face.

As the customer paid and I thanked her, clipping a business card to the paper bag, I glanced out at the busker. He was drinking from a water bottle, his head tipped back to expose the line of his neck. The bottle was near-empty.

“Hey, Kristi?”

One of the girls I employed stopped mid-chatter to her colleague about someone called Dwayne and how dreamy he looked in a football jersey, and whipped her head round to me.

“Can you man the counter for a sec?”

She bobbed her head yes and we swapped places. I grabbed a bottle of water from the tall fridge by the door, the shaped plastic cold against my palm. I hesitated, then grabbed another.

The wall of heat enveloped me as soon as I stepped out of the door.

The busker looked up at the sound of the bell, shoulders bunching in his worn white t-shirt as I approached, as if steeling himself for something.

The crowd had thinned between songs, people put off from standing by the sheer heat of a New York summer, but the open guitar case held a bundle of notes, some fives and tens, as well as several scatterings of coins.

“Hi,” I greeted him. “Ma’am,” he drawled, softly. His smile seemed easy, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

I suspected that he was wondering if I was gearing up to threaten to call the police on his ass.

I wasn’t.

I held out the bottles of water. “Thought you might be thirsty.”

“Sure am.” He smiled up at me, fingers drumming on his thigh, but he didn’t attempt to take the water. “‘S very kind of you.”

You stepped closer, offering the bottles and he finally took them from me . His hands brushed mine, his skin warm and tan, a little rough. I noticed the unusual ink on his fingers, wanted to ask, but politeness stopped me.

“Your music is beautiful,” I said as he unscrewed the first bottle, the second held between his knees.

“Thank you, ma’am.” He took a deep drink, and I tried not to feel like a letch, admiring the line of his neck, the bob of his Adam’s apple. “‘S a nice bakery you got there.”

“Thanks. I, um, never thought it’d be a thing. You know? When you dream about something for so long and when it finally comes true, you can’t believe it?”

He met my gaze. “Can’t say I know a whole lot about that.”

For the first time, I took in his attire properly - large burlap backpack, battered army-style boots, the laces frayed, the near-threadbare edges of his hat. “God. I’m so sorry, I’m such an idiot-”

He shook his head, a shy little smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Don’ be. I like it better when folks don’t have to watch their every word ‘round me. I’m Ryan.”

“I’m Grace. The idiot.” I offered a hand and he shook it, and his palm was wide and warm, a little calloused, and sparks of awareness slid up my arm.

“Do you often play around here?” I gestured to the little stretch of the Chinatown of Flushing, Queens, that my bakery sat on.

“No, ma’am. I’m a traveller. Been t’ New York before, but not this particular spot.”

“And how is this particular spot?”

Ryan drummed his fingers on his guitar thoughtfully. “‘S good. Folk are nice, for the most part.” He started on the second bottle of water, his tongue flicking out to over bottom lip after he drank. “Hot as hell, though, and I say that as a Southern boy.”

I opened my mouth to ask where in the South he hailed from, but Kristi appeared in the doorway of my shop. “Grace? Sorry, Mikey needs the auth code for this delivery.”

“Oh, sure.” I turned back to Ryan. “It was good to meet you. Your music is really fantastic.”

He ducked his head, smiling, a little shy. “Mighty kind of you, ma’am.”

By this point another little crowd had gathered, waiting to hear him sing, and I left them to it. I wished I could have the shop door open to hear him, but that would defeat the point of air conditioning.

But even so, throughout the afternoon, I kept glancing over, seeing him still there, singing. During a busy point I asked Kristi to go and bring him another bottle of water, and I saw the smile he flashed her, feeling jealous of the attention, and called myself utterly ridiculous for it. I hadn’t even known Ryan existed a couple of hours ago.

Customers thinned out. It was a weekday, and business always slowed down around six pm. I shut at seven, so at six-thirty I sent Kristi and Susan home. As they opened the door, I caught a line of song in Ryan’s soft, smooth drawl.

Nine hundred more miles, and I’ll be doin’ just fine-

When he finished, after the small crowd had dropped dollar bills and murmured their appreciation, I called out to him.

“You want to come inside? Have a cold drink? Use the air con?”

I saw the hesitation flick over his face, the trepidation mixed with curiosity, and in the end, the latter must’ve won, because he stood up.

“That’s it for today, ladies and gentlemen,” I heard him say to the people circled around him. A man tossed a couple of bills in his guitar case, and Ryan touched his hat in thanks.

The listeners dispersed, and Ryan settled his guitar in his case like a mother swaddling her baby; with utmost gentleness. And then he looked up, smiling, that dimple winking, and walked towards me.

Taglist: @agirllovespancakes

#ryan brenner x ofc #jackie x ryan fic #jackie x ryan au #ben barnes character fanfiction

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