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#mcu one shot
tinyyoungblood · 2 hours ago
remember that night? | p. parker
summary: peter spends a night on omegle and comes across a sleeping girl. peter decides not to skip her. he reads to her and talks to her about his problems, and when she finally wakes, they lose themselves in endless conversation until she hits him with the “see you in a different life, bye peter” (based on this tiktok)
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pairing: peter parker x reader
words: 3.7k
warnings: language, fluff
a/n: wishing everyone lots of luck and success for their exam phase <3 enjoy
            ─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
“What you doing, kid?” Peter’s head snapped up as Steve entered the kitchen, empty mug in hand.
“Just doing school work.” Peter eyed at the pile of papers in front of him. He was supposed to finish his history paper tonight but couldn’t find it in himself to even start. A glance at the small clock of his laptop revealed that he still had eight hours before school started. Sleep was for the weak anyway.
Steve stopped at the coffee machine and leaned against the counter, eyes raking the dishevelled boy with a hint of concern. “It’s almost midnight,” he said, flatly. “Your school knows that humans need to sleep, right.” It wasn’t a question, so Peter didn’t reply. He watched in silence as Cap filled his mug and took a big gulp, clearly not bothered by the bitter taste nor the temperature.
Peter settled for a careless shrug. “There’s nothing I can do about it.”
He had barely finished his sentence when Steve scoffed and gave him a long look. “There’s plenty of things you can do about it, kid.” He pushed himself off the counter and stepped to Peter’s side. His eyes flitted across the books and scraps of papers littering the kitchen island. “If you need help with that, just ask. You know where to find me.”
A small smile bloomed on Peter’s lips. “You know humans need to sleep, right.”
Cap chuckled. He shook his head and lazily lifted his coffee mug while walking towards the door. “I’ll be up all night anyway. Got paperwork to do.” And with that, he left Peter to the quietness of the compound kitchen.
“Sleep,” Peter mumbled, forcing out a long sigh like the idea of getting rest was a far-fetched pipe dream. Another glance at the clock made his stomach churn. He scrambled for a pen and a sheet of paper, staring hard at it as if the essay might just write itself if he looked at it long enough.
After five minutes of nothing happening, Peter scowled at the paper and fought with the idea of asking Steve for help. He was old, he’d been there when it happened. Steve could easily help him and be done with it, but Peter knew Cap had his own handful to worry about, so Peter pulled his laptop towards him and opened his internet browser.
With half of his brain already dozing off, he typed in the website’s name and watched as it instantly popped up. Bless Tony and his fast wifi.
Omegle was a weird place at midnight. It generally was a hit or miss, but at that time of the day only the insomniacs were on the loose. Peter had to skip a couple of people until he connected with three or two that were up for a quick chat. But even they were heading to bed soon, leaving Peter to roam the platform some more.
He was ready to log off and call it a day after skipping yet another black screen when he landed on what appeared to be a girl sleeping in front of her computer screen.
You were lying on your bed, blanket pulled up to your chin, and hair softly framing your face. Peter loosened a breath he didn’t know he was holding and carefully sat up straighter, trying to make as less noise as possible even though you were clearly deep asleep.
“Hello?” Peter was glad when you didn’t react. It meant you probably hadn’t heard how his voice had cracked. He cleared his throat and spoke in a much softer tone, “Hey, uhm, can you hear me?” Again, you didn’t respond. Peter turned on the volume of his laptop and leaned forward, nearly pressing his ear against the speakers only to pick out very distant, almost inaudible breathing.
“I guess you’re really asleep.” Peter chuckled, not sure what the protocol was when stumbling across someone snoozing on Omegle.
A thought struck him that made him furrow his brows and say, “How do I know you’re not a bot? Snore if you’re a picture, do a back flip if you’re real.” You did neither and Peter was okay with that.
“So, uhm, how has your day been?” He didn’t expect you to reply. Peter wasn’t sure what exactly he’d expected, but some part of him refused to skip you. He wanted to stay and keep talking to you. He didn’t know why. You just looked peaceful and that had somehow managed to calm his nerves.
“I didn’t have the greatest day,” Peter said quietly, poking his notebook with a pen. “I didn’t have a great week to start with to be honest. I did badly on my Spanish test and then fell on Mr. Banner’s microscope.” He let out a breathy chuckle as the vivid memory flashed before his eyes. “I don’t even remember how it happened. I was just taking a nap on the ceiling, I hadn’t slept in days, you know. Next thing I know I’m waking up on the lab table with the Avengers surrounding me.”  
Peter clamped his mouth shut when you stirred a bit. It made him hold his breath, anticipating you to wake up and look at him weirdly for talking to you while you were asleep. But you didn’t wake. Peter exhaled in relief. He picked up his history book and traced the binding aimlessly. His eyes were transfixed on your face. You had moved enough for him to actually see your face and he couldn’t help but find you extremely pretty.
“God,” he laughed and ran a hand through his hair. The little screen on the bottom left displayed his messy curls, but he didn’t bother to fix them. “I’m such a creep for watching you sleep.” You didn’t answer, of course, but Peter imagined that you would probably laugh and agree.
Peter spent the next few minutes imagining what your laugh might sound like while curiously studying your face. He did it with such care, not allowing himself to miss a detail. You were gorgeous. He was sure he could draw you in his sleep. Funnily enough, sleep was irrelevant to him now. Missing out on the chance to trace your features felt like a crime, so he stayed.
Peter read out of his history book for you, absently making notes while he was softly enunciating each word like it was a bedtime story. He had somehow ended up with enough material for a complete essay, but instead of working on it, Peter fished out some Ben & Jerry’s and talked to you about his struggles and problems of the week.
He let out everything he had bottled up and felt a lot better when he was done. The clock read two o’clock in the morning, but he didn’t feel tired at all. Peter tossed his empty ice cream container to the side and licked the spoon before pointing it at you. “You know, you’re a pretty good listener.”
He didn’t wait for your reply and stood up to wash his spoon in the sink. It was weird how none of the others had woken up yet to inquire about the noise but then again, Peter had been near silent, barely making any sounds that would wake you.
Until now.
The spoon in his hand was coated in soap. It slipped right out of his grip and fell into the sink with a loud clunk. Peter winced and whipped around, staring at the back of his laptop like he could see through it and watch you wake up, puzzled and ready to skip him.
Peter practically leapt across the counter and threw himself in the bar stool, and if the spoon hadn’t woken you up yet, his clumsy landing did. Peter watched panic-stricken as you slowly stretched your limbs and let out a small yawn. You took your sweet time and Peter prayed and prayed that you would just fall right back to sleep. His mind was racing with things he could say but nothing good came to mind.
At last, you turned towards the bright screen of your computer and rubbed the sleep out of your eyes. You didn’t look confused. Just sleepy. But Peter still felt the need to speak, so he blurted out the first thing that came to mind.
“You’re really pretty.”
It took you a minute to react, and it had Peter contemplate whether you might’ve just been a bot after all. But then a shy smile crossed your lips and Peter had to refrain himself from running away.
“Thanks,” you said softly, and Peter’s jaw nearly dropped to the floor. He had gotten so used to listening to himself talk for the past couple hours; he had long forgotten that you might actually reply at some point. And he definitely didn’t expect to enjoy the sound of your voice as much as he did. It was the voice of shared secrets and late summer nights. There was something magical and wondrous to it—Peter loved it.
“You’re perfect,” Peter mumbled absently, still staring at your smile like it was the hidden treasure all along. His cheeks were tinged with a faint shade of pink when he realised what he’d just said but he didn’t want to take it back. It was the truth. And you didn’t seem to mind. You simply let out a soft laugh and smiled at him.
“You’re being awfully nice. I hope you’re not just spewing compliments because I was drooling in my sleep.”
“You weren’t!” Peter assured, realising how quick he was to respond. He chuckled nervously. “I promise you didn’t drool. You were…gorgeous, actually. I mean you still are—” Peter threw his head back and covered half of his face with an arm in an attempt to hide his blush. He groaned. “This was a lot easier when you were still asleep.”
You sat up and watched Peter with curious eyes, pulling your blanket along to drape it over your shoulders. You shrugged although he couldn’t see. “I can pretend I’m still asleep if that’s the kind of audience you prefer.”
Peter stole a glance at you from under his arm. You still had a sincere smile on your lips, waiting patiently for his response. It gave him the push he needed to remove his arm and loosen a breath. “No, it’s fine.” Peter shook his head. “I need practise talking to people when they’re conscious anyway.” He smiled sheepishly when you laughed.
“Lucky for you, I can do both.” You shot him a wink. “I’m sorry if I was being horrible company. I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”
“It’s all right,” Peter said, smiling. “At least you didn’t snore.”
You grinned and echoed, “At least I didn’t snore. I’m Y/N, by the way.”
Peter couldn’t help but think of all the names he had scribbled on the back of his notebook that he believed fitted you. He had to admit that none of them fitted you as perfectly as your actual name did. “It’s nice to meet you, Y/N. I’m Peter.”
“Peter.” You let his name roll off your tongue, testing out the sound of his name. Peter was positively giddy at this point, and he had to stop himself from beaming at you. Your smile made it incredibly hard though. “It’s nice to meet you too, Peter.”
“So, tell me.” Peter shoved his notebook aside to place his arms on the kitchen island, resting his chin on them. “Do you nap often in front of strangers from the internet?”
After that, conversation flowed more easily. Everything became a topic of conversation. You talked about your upcoming exams and assignments and even helped Peter with his history essay.
Then you talked freely about the worries that troubled you, and Peter listened. He was glad to do so and watched how with each passing minute the weight was lifted off your chest. You talked about books, movies, theories, and all sorts of things. Neither of you were tired and time had stopped being a concept a long while ago.
It was only when Peter sneaked a glance at the clock that he realised how late it was. It was five o’clock in the morning. You had talked for three hours, not aware that it had become one of those moments where time just didn’t seem real anymore. Everything appeared out of place like you had both entered an alternative realm.
But in reality, he knew that in less than an hour, Steve would stroll through the door and probably offer Peter to join him on his morning jog.
“We’ve been talking for three hours,” Peter said, although he didn’t know why he did it. He didn’t want the conversation to end.
“Really? I didn’t even notice.” You twisted to look past the laptop screen and through your blinds. The sun was rising and more cars filled the streets. “Should we…end this?” Peter wasn’t sure if you meant the call, but he offered you a shrug.
“I don’t want to,” Peter admitted, chuckling. “But I guess we’ll have to. School starts soon for me.”
“For me too,” you replied gently, eyes casting downward as if you were glancing at Peter’s lower half of the screen. Peter had caught you do that a few times that night, but he’d brushed it off. You were always quick to lock eyes with him again.
You stared at each other for a long moment, neither of you saying anything. You just enjoyed being in each other’s company for a few more seconds, perpetuating what you had for as long as you could. Neither of you wanted the night to end.
You had yet to exchange numbers, and the thought of asking for it left Peter surprisingly nervous. It was ridiculous. He had spent an entire night talking to you like he’d been born to do it, but it still left him anxious. When Peter had finally found the courage to ask, you opened your mouth and Peter was glad to let you speak first.
“I guess, I’ll see you in a different life then.” You smiled softly as confusion began to cross Peter’s eyes. “Bye, Peter.” And with that, you clicked off—leaving Peter alone and stunned.
Peter opened his mouth to say something even if it was completely useless. You were gone and Peter was at a loss for words. He had not expected you to click off so abruptly. His mind still struggled to process your sudden departure.
Frantically hitting the blue skip button, Peter searched for any trace of you, any sign of a girl with the voice of spring wells and the smile of everything bright and good in the world. But you were gone. Just like that, you had left. See you in another life.
God, you were dramatic, Peter thought, bemused. If he weren’t still in absolute shock, he might have laughed out loud. But he didn’t. He just sat there in dumbfounded silence for God knew how long. He didn’t even register when Steve and Sam entered the kitchen, and he didn’t notice either when they repeatedly called his name.
“Kid?” Steve laid a hand on Peter’s shoulder, startling him. “You okay?”
Peter collected himself and mustered a half-assed nod. “Yeah.” His voice didn’t sound right. “I’m fine.”
“You don’t look fine,” Sam remarked, eyeing him suspiciously.
“Did you stay up all night?” Steve asked, voice carrying authority and concern. Peter glanced at the little screen of his laptop before shutting it. There was no point in lying when the deep bags beneath his eyes were answer enough. He didn’t reply.
“Jesus, Parker. Are you trying to beat a score or something? Is it a competition you have with Tony? To death?” Sam sounded amused, but Steve considered Peter in silence, probably wondering if he should let the boy stay at home to catch some sleep. There was palpably more than just exhaustion and tiredness clinging to Peter’s features.
Peter had to keep himself from squirming under Steve’s scrutinizing gaze. He gathered his belongings and tried not to seem like he was in a hurry to leave while mumbling, “I need to take a shower.” The two men watched as Peter shuffled out of the room.
“I wonder who broke his heart,” Sam said, opening the fridge once Peter was gone and taking out two water bottles. He tossed one at Cap.
Steve caught it and followed Sam out to the hallway, glancing at the doorway again that Peter had just walked through. He contemplated Sam’s words but came up short. “Maybe it was his history paper.”
Sam snorted. “Might as well have been the kitchen fairy.”
Peter didn’t end up taking a shower. Instead, he grabbed his backpack and was on his way to school. It was the only thing he could think of that wouldn’t leave him feeling absolutely defeated. The subway ride was long but nearly not long enough. His mind was still a cluster of thoughts when he arrived at Midtown High.
For the tenth time that morning, Peter pressed Ned’s contact, but his best friend didn’t pick up. It was too early anyway. There were barely any students present, and Peter knew that he couldn’t handle entering the school building yet. It would make him feel claustrophobic.
Peter dropped his backpack on the first step of the stairs leading up to the doors and sat beside it. He scrambled for the history paper he had carelessly stuffed into his bag when he was rushing out of the compound. It was only when Peter finally held it in his hands again that he could breathe properly. The wrinkles on the edges had become so familiar to him, it brought him comfort.
He dialled Ned’s number once more and waited. His voicemail answered and Peter made the impulsive decision to leave a message. “Ned, hey, uhm, I know it’s early and I’m sorry for calling you like a hundred times, but I met the most amazing girl last night on—well, it doesn’t really matter where, but I met her and we talked for hours.”
Peter’s eyes dropped to the stack of wrinkled papers in his hand, clutching them in fear they might disappear as well. “I really liked talking to her and I thought she did too, but then she just kinda clicked off without giving me her number or anything, and…I don’t know what to do.”
Peter laughed nervously, hand rubbing the back of his neck when he realised how crazy he sounded. But he knew he needed to get it off his chest, so he did. “Some part of me is just starting to believe that I might’ve dreamed it all and none of it was real. I just—”
A subtle peep made Peter trail off. Removing his phone from his ear, the display showed nothing but the regular phone app, and he let out a sigh before shoving his mobile into the back pocket of his pants.
“I just want to remember,” Peter mumbled under his breath to no one at all and stood up. He slung his backpack over his shoulder and turned around to face the double doors, the grip on his history paper never faltered.
Peter was halfway up the stairs when he thought that a distant voice had just called out to him. It was so far away and barely carried through the wind that Peter was sure that he had hallucinated it. He definitely needed a nap.
The voice called out his name once more and this time the familiarity nearly sucker punched Peter right off the stairs. He froze. Could it be? A second later, he spun around and went rigid.
Jogging across the football field was a girl he would’ve recognised anywhere. He had spent too many hours admiring her not to. He was stupefied.
You stopped right in front of him, doubled over and hands resting on your knees while trying to catch your breath. Peter’s eyes were wide as he watched you straighten and look at him.
If Peter had found you incredibly gorgeous through the small low-quality window on Omegle, then he found you absolutely breath-taking in real life. Peter was sure he was completely awestruck. It took him a second to note that you were grinning at him. He had to do a double-take.
Peter didn’t trust himself to speak, but he couldn’t care less if his voice was shaky. “Y/N?”
“Surprised?” You asked, amused. Peter’s breath hitched at the sound of your voice. It brought him an immediate sense of comfort. He remembered the long hours of endless conversation. He remembered how much he loved it and almost asked you to speak again.
“Well—” Peter shook his head in disbelief. “Yeah. How did you know where to find me?”
You pointed at his torso and watched as Peter’s expression shifted from sheer confusion to slow realisation. He had been wearing his Midtown hoodie the entire night. He even remembered the couple times when your gaze had flickered to it, but he hadn’t thought much of it. Peter’s eyes snapped up and locked with yours.
“You knew?” You nodded. “The entire time?” Another nod. “But you don’t go here, do you?” Peter was certain he would’ve remembered you. He wouldn’t forgive himself if he didn’t.
You shook your head. “No, I go to a school close by. But I recognised the logo last night and thought I might surprise you in the morning. See if you’re this cute in real life too.” Your shy smile made Peter melt into a hopeless puddle of wild emotions. His thoughts were a mess.
Last night. Those words stood out to him like diamonds in a cave—a shooting star in the dark. They made him feel like he had just travelled the world and seen it all.
It was a story he wasn’t prepared for, but it had happened and he would be forever grateful that it did. All he managed to do was say those very words out loud, “Last night.” His voice was barely a whisper.
“Yeah.” You laughed and smiled gently. “Remember that night?”
Peter’s grip on his history paper loosened. He folded them and tucked them into his back pocket, eyes never leaving yours. Then he nodded and gave you a soft smile. “I do.”
* * *
stay hydrated <3
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itsallyscorner · 3 hours ago
Play Me A Song
Paring: Tom Holland x fem!reader
Summary: This is based off the video of Tom playing guitar that he posted on Instagram:) Tom facetimes you to help brighten up your day.
Warnings: none
A/n: Not me using fan fiction as a coping mechanism for my stress, yet ONCE AGAIN.
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✧───── ・ 。゚★: *. ☽.* :★. ─────✧
“Hellooo, gorgeous girl!” Tom cooed as his face popped up onto your phone screen.
You let out a nasally giggle, the side of your face snuggling deeper into the pillow Tom would use when he was over at your house.
Tom tilts his head at the phone, a hint of a smile on his blush colored lips. The action caused his mop of chocolate brown curls to slightly bounce, catching your attention. You longed for the feeling of running your hands through his soft hair. You missed the way it felt between your fingers and how it would make Tom nuzzle closer to you.
“How was your day? You sounded a bit upset on the phone.” He checked in, voice soft and sweet, yet full of concern. His brows furrowed, causing a wrinkle to form between his brows.
You breath in, smelling the hints of him on your pillow. He was miles away, FaceTime allowed you to see and talk to him, though it wasn’t the same as him being beside you. If you were together right now, he would probably envelop you with his protective arms, pull you into his warm chest, and press kisses all over any bit of your exposed skin. His curls would tickle against your neck while he buried his head into the small space between your neck and shoulders—though you wouldn’t mind the tickle because it would remind you that he was there with you.
You sighed, “Today was a rough day. My professors have been piling work on us and I got called into work on my day off. I haven’t even gotten to start that research paper for class—I’m just so burnt out. I’m tired of trying, Tommy.”
Tom pouted, bringing the camera near his face to feel closer to you. He only felt the heat of his phone screen against his face, but he could still feel the light vibrations of your voice through the phone’s speakers. He placed the speaker of his phone slightly atop his chest, so he could feel the rhythm of your words against him. It reminded him of the days you two would cuddle after the both of you had long days at work. You would tell each other about your days and bask in the feeling of being in each other’s arms. He missed the feeling of being close to you.
“I know you have a lot of work to do, but you need to give yourself breaks, darling. And don’t tell me that you don’t need a break, you’re human (y/n), there’s only so much you can do in a day.” He began. Tom knew how you could get when college got overwhelming. Sometimes there were weeks where you would throw yourself into work, with no sleep, minimal food, and too many cups of coffee. He adored the diligence you had for your education, he wished he could’ve had that when he was still in school, but he wanted to make sure that you were taking care of yourself.
“Listen, you got this, I know you do. You’re the most intelligent and hard working woman I have ever met in my life. There’s nothing you can’t do, because I know, one way or another, you’re gonna find a way to do it. You always do. I just don’t want you to forget to take care of yourself. I know your education is important, but so are you.” He finished, a small smile forming on his lips. You hum in response, “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of myself Tommy.”
What you say seems to reassure him, his shoulders visibly loosened up and the smile on his face grows a bit wider. Your own lips turn up on their own, reciprocating his smile.
“How about you, how was your day?” You ask him. Tom sits up and leans against his headboard.
“Well they’re still renovating the house, so Harry and I decided to rent out a place not too far from mum and dad’s. We actually had lunch with them, I got to see Tessa—gosh, I wish you were here right now. Tess was bouncing all over the place and giving everyone kisses, you would’ve loved it. And Paddy! He’s gotten so much taller since I’ve last seen him, and his voice keeps getting deeper, it’s actually embarrassing for me to be beside him because I’m older and I sound like I’m the one going through puberty.” He rambled, one of his hands making gestures and his face making expressions as he spoke. You loved the way he could just go on about a certain topic, especially when it came to his family. As sad as it was to see him leave for the UK, you were also happy because you knew he’d get to see his family.
He continued to talk about his day until his leg bumped into something, causing a hollow thump to emit from the object.
“What was that?” He leaned forward, the sound of his sheets rustling as he moved to grab the object filling your speakers.
“My guitar.” He grunted, holding the instrument up. “Remember, you got this for me for my birthday!” He proudly reminded you. You had gotten him the Ed Sheeran edition Martin Guitar after he had been going on and on about wanting to learn how to properly play the instrument. At the same time, he had a little obsession with Ed Sheeran and his music, so when you saw the guitar in the shop, you thought why not? You knew he would love it.
You fondly chuckled at him, “Yeah I do! You even promised to write me a song one day after you opened it.”
The last part of your sentence caught his attention, “I will write you a song one day, I’m very serious about that promise, love.” He pointed at you.
“Oh, are you?” You tease him.
“Yes, I am. In fact, ever since I’ve gotten back home, I’ve been practicing again and I’m doing much better.” He confidently told you.
“Can you play me a song?” You softly ask him.
“I can play you ‘Grow as we Go’ by Ben Platt. It’s the song I’ve been practicing.” He placed his phone against a pillow, using it as a stand. He placed the guitar in his lap, positioning his fingers on the frets and strings of the guitar.
“Yeah, play anything. I just wanna hear you play.” You mumble, your voice coming out in a muffle against Tom’s pillow.
“Just a warning, it’s probably not that good.” He mentions, shooting you a playful look.
“I don’t care.” You smile. He starts to softly strum the opening of the Ben Platt song and you couldn’t help but smile. He looked away from the camera, trying to focus on the notes and giving you a good look at the side of his face. The light shines part of his face, leaving the features you can see dark in the shadow, though it didn’t stop you from making out his gorgeous brown eyes. His long fingers move fluidly along the strings, creating a sweet melody on the guitar.
He stumbles a bit, making him whisper “Bollocks.” The little hiccup didn’t stop him from playing and so he continued to strum the guitar. You decided to stay quiet, letting him be in the zone. He messes up again, this time saying “bollocks” louder than the first time. You see him slightly shake his head as he regains his focus and places his fingers on the proper strings again.
You fondly watch him as he play, admiring the man you call your boyfriend. His fingers twitch on the string causing him to pause. He sucks his teeth, a bit of a frustrated grin on his face.
“Mmm.” He looks at you before turning away, “Okay.” He plays again, brows furrowed together in concentration as he tries to play the part of the song his keeps messing up on. You couldn’t contain the giggle that came out of you when he cringed at the sound the guitar made when he tried to play past the note. He pauses looking at the ceiling and tries to figure out the next notes.
“Alright, last time.”
“You’ve got it.” You encourage him. Your words give him some confidence and he shoots you a sweet smile. He readjusts the guitar in his lap, this time keeping his eyes on the strings as he plays. He strums the song again, starting off slow then slowly getting faster. Though his pacing was off by a bit, the song still sounded great nonetheless. You were thoroughly impressed.
He stops playing sitting back against the headboard, “I don’t know why I speed up though. I don’t know why I decide to do it so quickly.” He says into the camera.
You laugh, “It still sounds great though, I really enjoyed it.”
Tom tilts his head at you, teasingly squinting at the camera, “Even with the amount of times I kept stopping?”
“Yes, even with the amount of times you kept stopping.” You laugh, adjusting your phone. Tom puts the guitar aside and grabs his phone. He lays back on his bed, his head resting on his pillow and his curls sprawling out on the cushiony white surface. One of his hands rest behind his head as he stares at you.
“I’m gonna keep practicing. So the next time I see your beautiful face I can serenade you with a song and my guitar.” He muses, a lazy grin on his features.
“That sounds like something out of a chick flick.” You snort. He shoots you a playful glare, “Shut up, you love it.”
Tom knew you were a sucker for chick flick gestures. Kissing in the rain, watching the sunset, you name it.
You sigh, scrunching up your nose, “Yeah, I do.”
“But only from you.”
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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 15 hours ago
Flying High, Falling Fast
Warnings: non-consent sex and rape; fingering, oral, fucking, subtle creep factor, deceptive charm, the usual fare you know
This is dark!Sam Wilson x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Synopsis: You meet the new Captain America at an event and impress him with your homemade project, but his interest is more than friendly.
Note: We all need some dark!Sam, right? This is a pretty long one shot, just over 7k words but it was super fun to write a character I don’t get to a lot. But I hope you love him as much as me!
Thanks to everyone for sticking around and putting up with me and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)
I really hope you enjoy. 💋
<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!
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You’d never been to a meet and greet before but it seemed like the perfect opportunity to meet up with Reese. The two of you met a year and a half ago on a Discord server for PC builds and eventually waded through the awkward blank cursors to real conversations. Little updates on new additions to your machines, memes about coding, and the occasional gaming session. He became a stalwart in your mostly solitary existence between work and your empty private life.
It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Reese but you felt safer meeting a stranger from the internet in a public setting. Plus, it was his suggestion. His roommate fell through on attending the event with him and you eagerly accepted the unclaimed ticket. Of course, Reese insisted it was his treat but you made him promise to let you pay for lunch.
Even more exciting, you were going to meet the new Captain America. THE CAPTAIN AMERICA. You wanted to squee but had to play it cool as you waited with Reese in the winding queue. 
As exclusive as the meet and greet was, it was stiflingly crowded, even more strenuous as you and Reese tried to adjust your rapport to a face-to-face environment. You mostly ended up chuckling and struggling for some cogent thought.
“What’s in the bag?” Reese asked, finally cracking through the stunted small talk.
“Oh, oh my god, I almost forgot,” you carefully lifted the bag and opened the top to let him peek inside, “I made this last year during lockdown. It’s silly but it was fun.”
He poked his finger around the opening of your drawstring knapsack and his brows rose in surprise. The drone had taken you most of your spare time but you hadn’t yet had a chance to do more than hover it around your bedroom. It was an exact replica, or exact as you could get, of the former Falcon’s Redwing.
“Holy shit! You never mentioned it,” he said.
“Oh, well, I guess… I never thought to. I just spent about an hour or so whenever I could, getting it together. Most of the time was spent on programming,” you closed your bag and let hit hang from your elbow, “and that’s another checkbox on the nerd list.”
“Please, look who you're talking to,” he joked with a snort.
You smiled at him sheepishly and looked ahead of the bodies in front of you as the line shifted forward. He wasn’t exactly disappointing, if anything, he was exactly what you expected. Skinny with black-framed glasses and a bright tee with the Captain’s shield emblazoned across his chest. He wasn’t bad-looking and thankfully not an incel.
“So, uh, you gonna give it to him or something?” Reese asked.
“What-- uh, no, I was hoping he’d sign it actually,” you chewed your lip anxiously, “if I don’t spaz out and just walk away.”
“Right,” he scoffed, “the last time I went to one of these I almost passed out.”
“Oh? Who was it?” you wondered aloud.
“Tony Stark. But I was still in high school,” he explained, “everything else sells out before I get to it. These I got by luck. If David hadn’t swiped them, we’d be standing outside wishing we were in here.”
“I can’t believe he passed on the ticket,” you uttered.
“I’m happy he did,” Reese said, “it made it easier to convince you to meet.”
“Well… we didn’t have to--”
“I’m teasing. Sorry. I’m not very… experienced at this,” he fidgeted.
“It’s fine,” you shrugged as you moved with the line, “I’m just nervous about meeting Captain America, you know? You’re not as intimidating… but I like that.”
“Uh, thanks,” he laughed as you got closer to the table and fidgeted with the straps of your bag. You were almost there.
You stepped up when the people ahead of you cleared away and you couldn’t help but stare at Bucky Barnes’ metal hand as he signed Reese’s special edition Blip magazine. He cleared his throat and you looked the Winter Soldier in the face. 
“Oh, sorry,” you slid the poster you got from the shop on the way in onto the table and he unrolled it and signed. You tried really hard not to focus on his hand, you were so curious as to how it all worked. “Thank you.”
He smiled through tight lips and said, “your welcome” before you sidled down to Sam Wilson as you rolled up your poster.
“Don’t worry about him,” Sam said, “he hates these things. I can’t take him anywhere.”
His laughter received a sharp look from the super soldier. Sam took Reese’s magazine and asked his name. You were too lost in thought to answer when he asked for yours. You coughed and sputtered as you tried to remember and Reese answered for you, adding that you were nervous.
“I, uh, oh,” you lifted your bag, “I was hoping, maybe, you might sign this instead,” you handed the poster to Reese and reached into your knapsack, “if you don’t mind?”
You carefully placed the drone on the table and his brows shot up in surprise. He lifted it just as you let it go and admired it as he leaned back, “you make this?”
“Yeah,” you answered shyly, “doesn’t have all the cool features like yours but it flies.”
“That’s awesome,” he put it back down and uncapped his marker, “where do you want me to sign?”
“Just on the top is fine,” you pointed, “thank you so much.”
“My pleasure,” he put his signature after spelling out your name and he grabbed the drone again, “hey, Buck, look at this? I don’t see any fancy arms that need signing.”
“Shut up,” Bucky grumbled and eyed the drone, “pretty cool, though.”
“Thanks, uh, well, we should get out of the way,” you said.
He handed you the drone and smiled. You began to shuffle away and he called you back to the table, “you code? Do a lot of programming?”
“Mostly just corporate sites,” you answered.
“Here,” he reached into his pocket, “send me a text. I think I know some people who’d like to meet you.”
“What?” you took the card rigidly.
“Sure, we’re always looking for techs,” he said, “and if we can’t find a spot for you, maybe you can see the real Redwing. I’ll make sure of it.”
“Wow, thank you, you… don’t have to do… that,” you stuttered.
“I’d be stupid not to,” he waved off your protests, “you go have fun, you two.”
You backed away and turned to walk away with Reese as you shoved your drone back in your bag with the card, numb with disbelief. 
“Wow, I can’t believe…” you trailed off as you mind wandered.
“Me either,” Reese said oddly, “that’s… wild.”
You looked at him and smiled. He didn’t look mad, only serious. You tightened the neck of the knapsack and slung it over your shoulders.
“So what are we doing for lunch?” you asked.
In the two weeks since you attended the meet and greet, you and Reese kept up mostly online, many arrangements interrupted by your real life responsibilities. It wasn’t until you offered for him to come with you to the SWORD labs that he had any free time for you. After a stressful text exchange with Captain America, you were too anxious to go alone and he was more than welcoming when you asked to bring a friend.
You stood on the subway as Reese sat and played his Switch. He was jittery as you kept your own nerves hidden just beneath the surface. You found it easier to stay standing as you felt as if you might combust if you sat.
“This is so awesome,” he said as he zipped his Switch up in its case, “thanks for inviting me.”
“I figured I owed you since you got the tickets for the meet and greet,” you said, “and it’s been a while.”
“Sorry about that, work’s been nuts,” he stood as you approached your stop and held onto the pole above your hand, “I kinda skipped out on half a day for this.”
“No,” you frowned, “you didn’t have to--”
“And miss a chance to see the real Redwing? Come on,” he scoffed.
“Oh,” you hung your head, “yeah, I guess that’s worth it.”
“I didn’t mean-- I’m happy to see you too, it’s just kinda a big deal,” he said as you approached the door with the few other passengers readying to hop off.
“No, I get it,” you hooked your thumbs under the straps of your knapsack as the doors slid open and you stepped out onto the platform, “I just… I couldn’t go alone. It’s so… scary.”
“Scary? Jeez, Captain America invited you to a job interview!”
“No, that’s not--”
“Uh, yeah, that’s exactly what it is but I promise, I won’t get in the way,” he said as you head for the concrete stairs, “maybe if he needs an extra coder I might piggy back.”
“Uh huh,” you came up onto the New York sidewalk and came into view of the immense SWORD building, “well, I don’t think it’s all that.”
“So why’d you bring this?” he tapped your bag as you neared the large glass doors and men in suits with coiled wires at their ears squared their shoulders.
“He asked me to,” you said as you were approached by one of the big security guards.
“This isn’t public entry,” he said sternly, “no tours.”
“I have an appointment or… I’m expected,” you pulled out your phone and pulled up the electronic pass Sam sent you, “see?”
“Hmm,” he eyed it and took your phone without asking. Another guard came and scanned it with his phone, “checks out but we’re gonna called down Mr. Wilson and get confirmation.”
“Oh, okay,” you fidgeted as he made no move to return your phone. Reese seemed to shrink as the two men spoke into their headset and nodded at each other.
“Hey,” the glass door burst open as Sam appeared and strode towards you, “hey, sorry, these guys are such buzzkills,” he approached and patted one of the men on the shoulder, “they’re with me.” He assured and waved you after him.
“Um, my phone,” you said to the taller man with the buzzed head. He tilted his head wryly and held out your cell between two fingers. You took it and followed Sam to the doors.
“Anyway, we were just going over some basic maintenance today and I thought you might like to observe. See everything that goes into keeping me and my toys in the air,” he smiled as he held the door and nodded at Reese, “nice to see you again, man.”
“You too, Cap...tain,” Reese answered dumbly.
“Sam is fine,” he chuckled back and tailed the two of you across the lobby as he pointed you towards the elevators. He made Reese look even more like a stick bug. “You bring it?”
“Yeah, it’s in my bag,” you stopped yourself from popping your knuckles out of nervousness, “thank you so much for this. I usually work in cubicles so… uh, yeah… I don’t know what I mean.”
“Hey, don’t be nervous, you built that thing all by yourself? I’m sure you’ll fit right in,” he said.
You got off the elevator and had to hold in a gasp at the shining laboratories as the hi-tech equipment gleamed through the glass walls. Sam led you down the curved staircase onto the lab floors as techs and assistants in both lab coats and starched suits milled around the tables along the edge of the room.
“Hey, Greta,” he called out as he showed you to a metal table, “get a look at this.” A woman with twisted red hair approached as Sam tapped his fingers on the table, “show her,” he urged you.
You swung your bag around and took out the little red and silver drone. You placed it in the middle of the table and the woman, Greta, tilted her head curiously.
“You said you can make this thing fly, right?” Sam asked as Reese watched from the other side of the table.
“Um, yep,” you unlocked your phone and brought up the beta app you designed, “just…”
The drone rose slowly and steadied before you as it hovered over the metal. Greta lifted a dark brow and ran a nail along her chin thoughtfully, “cute.”
“Ah, come on, tell me that isn’t awesome? She did it all by herself,” Sam boasted, “so, what do you think? She’d be a great tech, huh?”
“Tech? I…” you blinked and giggled, that was absurd.
“Does she have a resume? A list of her credentials, at least,” Greta rebuffed.
“Greta,” Sam warned playfully, “I’m her credentials. I’m giving her a reference right now. Hire her.”
“What?” you mumbled under your breath and you saw Reese’s eye cling to Sam darkly, almost enviously.
“You know, if I hadn’t let that kid go for hi-jacking the alpha, I’d tell you to go back to breaking your toys,” she warned, “but I trust you and… I cannot say I’m not impressed,” she narrowed her sights at the floating drone, “how long did this take you?”
“A year or so,” you answered, “it was… just meant to be a hobby but--”
“Well, make it your life,” she said tersely, “Wilson, you deal with HR, Sheila likes you better.”
“Leave it all to me,” he grinned and she walked away.
“Here,” he turned back to you, “I’ll show you the operating system for the real deal.”
He ushered you and Reese over to a computer after you lowered your drone. The real Redwing sat on a module next to the screen and Sam punched the keys and took a hooked earpiece from a small stand, “put this on.”
You slipped the earpiece on as he revealed a bracelet and adjusted it on your wrist, a small ring looping up your index finger. 
“Bend your finger,” he said and you did it, “lift it up, back… like that.” Redwing rose and you watched in amazement, “tilt your head…” the drone aimed in the same direction as your head, “now back,” it flew higher, “just like that. You’re getting it.”
You steered the drone in a circle and Sam helped you maneuver it back down. He let you hand the controls over to Reese who had more fun with it and nearly took out one of the workers. He apologised and Sam just chuckled, though it didn’t sound so amused. 
When Redwing was back in its place, Sam took you all around the room to show you every gadget; his wings, his suit, all his little weapons, and even pulled up some Wakandan schematics of Bucky’s arm. Much of it wasn’t in English however and you could only decipher what was visually laid out. 
He left you there for a moment as he excused himself to chat with a tech about his wings. Reese huffed and leaned against the wall. You were quiet, mostly stunned, though your usual reticence could also be blamed. 
“I don’t think you should’ve brought me,” he said, “I told you it was a job interview.”
“I didn’t know, I thought you would enjoy it,” you felt awful as Reese had given up trying to hide his jealousy.
“Yeah, yeah,” he said, “well, it is pretty cool but…”
He was interrupted as Sam returned, “sorry about that, guys, I kinda messed up one of the engines on the wings on my last mission.”
You smiled and said it was fine. You hadn’t expected so much attention and thought it would be a brief little show and tell, not an entire tour. You returned to the table where you left your drone and shut down the app. You packed up your Redwing, it felt lighter but you were sure you were just imagining things as your head spun. You looked down at the bold signature across the shell and knotted the drawstring above its nose.
“Sorry, I…” you took your bag from the table, “I hate to bother but is there a bathroom I can use.”
“Oh yeah, just head back up the stairs, left of the elevators,” Sam pointed above, “we’ll wait here, there’s one last thing I wanna show you.”
“Okay, I’ll be right back,” you headed for the stairs and latched onto the railing before you could trip upwards.
You bumbled up the stairs and after a brief moment of blankness, you found your way to the bathroom. You quickly slipped into the stall and spent a minute at the mirror after washing your hands to get your head straight. It felt like a dream, or worse, a joke.
You headed back out and Sam was waiting just by the elevators to your surprise. You pursed your lips and glanced around, “where’s Reese?”
“Oh, yeah, uh, he left,” he said as he shoved his hand in his pocket, “said he wasn’t feeling it.”
“Really?” you shrunk, just a little, “erm… that’s too bad.”
“Yeah, kinda weird, I don’t think I’ve ever just ditched a girlfriend in the middle of the city,” he said.
“Girlfriend? Well… it’s… it’s early,” you rubbed the back of your neck, “I hope he’s okay.”
“Damn, I hope he didn’t ruin it, I still wanted to show you the shield,” he intoned, “but if you’re not feeling up to it--”
“No, no, I’m here, that would be awesome,” you forced a smile. 
Had you done something wrong? Was it rude to invite Reese and have all this rubbed in his face? You thought he’d feel worse if you didn’t invite him. Your doubts flurried in your head as you stepped onto the elevator with Sam, chewing your cheek as you tried not to show your disappointment.
You were brought back to the present as the metal doors opened and Sam nudged you as you stared right through the open space. You stepped out ahead of him and he caught up and walked beside you as he explained what was hidden in every room; mostly offices and training gyms.
He unlocked a door at the far curve of the circular hallway and jiggled until it opened. He pushed it open and the lights flicked on automatically.
“Bucky,” he grumbled, “he almost took the handle right off… so now I gotta fight it.”
“Oh,” you entered as he beckoned you inside and you looked around the spacious office.
“You know, there’s lots of paperwork when you take out a whole bridge, even if it is an accident,” he laughed, “and it gives me a place to show this off.”
He went to the wall where the shield was held on small metal hooks and slid it out easily. The vibranium sung in the air as he turned to you and held it out. 
“You wanna?” he asked.
“Sure…” you murmured as he turned it around and held it so you could hook your arm through the straps. He let it go and stood back to look you over.
“It suits you,” he said, “got your own Redwing and you hold that like a real champ. Maybe it’s time I step aside.”
You laughed nervously and shook your head. You peeked down at the metal and lifted and angled around as you admired the smooth curve. 
“Thanks,” you offered it back to him and he took it with one hand, “for everything.”
“You’re taking the job, right?” he prodded, “it’s perfect.”
“Mmm, well, I got a job--”
“Better than here? Better than suiting up the Cap?” he chided.
You bent your ankle under you and swayed on your feet. It was a great opportunity and way better than your desk job. It just felt like you didn’t deserve it.
“I need an answer. Greta doesn’t like indecision,” he said.
“O-okay, okay,” you surrendered, “I… if I said no, I’d feel even worse.”
“You won’t regret it, promise,” he said, “if you do, Redwing is yours. The real one.”
“No, no, I’m…” you rocked as you gripped the straps of your knapsack, “I’m sure I won’t.”
Your two weeks notice rolled by. Your boss was less than pleased by the sudden departure but you didn’t care much as you wouldn’t have to deal with him for much longer. You wrapped up your last day with your replacement and left feeling free, though the anxiety of your job loomed on the other side of the weekend.
In those weeks since your visit to the SWORD facility, you hadn’t heard much from Reese. That night when you messaged him to make sure he was okay, he didn’t say much more than ‘just tired’. After that, he was always offline when you signed onto the server and all your co-op requests were declined. You were ready to give up. 
Oh well, it was an online thing anyway, you were stupid to think it could work out.
But you were not entirely isolated. To your surprise, you got several messages from Sam, you still couldn’t help but think of him as Captain America and feel like you had nothing interesting to say to a hero. When he found out you liked to game, he even joined you for a session on headset but again, you were hyper focused and quiet. You were flattered that he was trying to make you feel welcome, that he even bothered to get you a job, but it all felt so above you.
When you got home that night, you logged in and sent a request to Reese, just one last attempt. He didn’t even respond, even after fifteen minutes of waiting. You shut down your PC and grabbed your switch instead. You changed as the system updated your Animal Crossing and flopped onto your bed.
You laid across the mattress, one leg over the edge and the other bent. You ran through, planting, fishing, and selling as you tried not to think too much. You’d done enough of that lately. You zoned out as your eyes narrowed at the small screen but in your peripheral, you felt a shadow move. You shrugged it off as the sunlight playing through the curtains and rolled onto your side to ignore it.
You kept on, ready to log out as you didn’t want to spend another Nook Ticket to go to and island and get nothing but flowers. You heard a subtle whirring and glanced over at your computer. It was sleeping and it was never that loud. You noticed that light shift again and turned. There was nothing. Nothing but your dresser and the signed drone, just as you left it.
You squinted and turned off your Switch. You went out to the front room to drop it back in the dock. You stretched and grabbed your phone from your purse to put in an order for some take-out. You stopped as you noticed Sam’s unanswered messages.
‘Whatcha doin’ tonite?’ and several that assumed you must be busy.
‘Sorry, got caught up gaming,’ you replied guiltily. 
Your phone shook before you could close out of the chat and you answered as Sam’s name flashed across the top. 
“Hello?” you squeaked.
“Hey, hope I’m not buggin’ you but I thought-- stop, Jesus Christ, sorry, we’re on our way to dinner and we hoped you might join us.”
“We?” you echoed.
“Oh, ha, yeah me and Bucky, Greta, and some of the techs. Not too many of us but you’re more than welcome,” he said, “since you start on Monday, it will be good to get to know some people.”
“Y-yeah, for sure,” you answered. It felt more an obligation than an invite. You didn’t want to come across snobbish or lazy even if you’d rather eat fried noodles and watch some trash reality TV.
“Great! I’ll send you the address,” he growled and hissed under his breath, “sorry, again, I’m just dealing with this-- I’ll see you there. Save ya a seat.”
He hung up abruptly and you stood dumbfounded staring at your jacket. You dropped your phone back into your purse and headed back to your room. You had to find something to wear that didn’t seem like you were trying too hard or not trying enough.
As you entered, that same whirring floated through the air and suddenly stopped. You looked around confused; not a fly, not your PC acting up, nothing. You grimaced at the poster with the star emblem across it and went to your dresser to pick out an outfit. It was probably the neighbour fucking around. Apartment living was rarely peaceful.
The restaurant was bustling as you were met by the hostess at the door. You told her you were there to join the party from SWORD. She showed you to the table and Sam saw you above the din and waved to you then shoved Bucky over on the cushioned bench. 
“Right here,” he pointed as he waved you over and stepped aside to let you past. You sidled along and sat, apologizing to Bucky as he rolled his eyes, “not too late.”
You gave your drink order as a waiter came by and shrugged out of your jacket, letting it bunch up around your back. Sam offered his menu and introduced the people you didn’t know at the table; alongside Bucky and Greta, were Xan and Wyatt. You said hello and opted for the fiesta salad as you set aside the menu.
“Are you excited?” Sam asked.
“For what?” Bucky huffed, “she’s gotta put up with you.”
“Hey,” Sam took the lemon off the rim of his glass and tossed it at Bucky, “he lightens up… sometimes.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Bucky grumbled but you could hear the humour in his voice. 
You sank into the background as the night went on. You spoke up when you were called on but felt it hard to assert yourself, especially with someone as outspoken as Sam beside you. Still, he made sure to make you feel included when you started to feel forgotten. For that you were grateful and he was right, it made you feel a little less anxious about your first day.
As you came out onto the sidewalk, your wallet painfully lighter, you bid goodbye to everyone but Sam hung around. You clutched your purse and peered down the street.
“Thanks for inviting me,” you said.
“Ah, you know what, I shoulda asked that guy, Reese? How’s it going with him? He your boyfriend yet?”
“Ha, no,” you sucked in your lip and took a deep breath, “I don’t even think we’re friends anymore.”
“Oh no, what happened?” he asked.
“I dunno,” you said wistfully, “but it is what it is.”
“He’s missin’ out. You’re a cool girl,” he said, “building drones for fun. Kinda why I had to snag you, you know? Someone with your skills, that’s dangerous.”
“Dangerous?” you chortled, “no.”
“Well,” he checked his phone, “how are you getting home?”
“I’ll just take the train,” you said, “my place is only about a ten minute ride from here.”
“You sure? I can give you a ride,” he said.
“Nah, really, you’ve done… more than enough.”
“Alright, well, see you Monday?”
“Monday?” you wondered.
“I’ll pop in before I head out,” he said, “got a mission so I might not be around more than that.”
“Okay, Monday,” you confirmed, “see ya.”
Monday was a whirlwind. It started on a high as Sam suited up and showed off his wings before he headed up to the jet pad. Greta muttered that she was happy he’d be out of your way before she went through the task of getting you acquainted not only with the tech but with their workplace rituals. It was a lot to take in but you did your best to absorb every word and second.
When you got home, you had a folder full of notes and spent too long going over them before you remembered the groan in your stomach. You ate a lazy super of Kraft Dinner and lazed across your bed doing nothing but watching Youtube tutorials on your tablet. You fell asleep early and woke to your alarm and a dead tablet.
You got up, got dressed, ran out, and did it all again. The first week dragged by and yet it felt like you didn’t have enough time. On Friday, you got home and fell across the couch in your work clothes. You held your phone above you and scrolled dozily through your feed.
A dot popped up and you flicked over to your notifications. The selfie you posted on your first day at the lab with Sam in his suit had lots of hearts but your first comment was less than pleasant. Beside Reese’s icon was all caps: MUST BE EASY SLEEPING YOUR WAY INTO A JOB!
Your heart pattered and you sat up. You deleted the comment but another soon appeared; several as you kept deleting and finally blocked him. ‘Slut, whore, dumb bitch…’ it was the last thing you expected from him.
You opened Discord and clicked on his chat. ‘What’s going on? Why are you doing this?’
The text flicked across the bottom that Reese was typing but he stopped and you sat there for what felt like forever before his response popped up.
‘I can’t believe you brought me all the way there to rub my face in all that shit. And for what? You should’ve just told me I had no chance and I woulda left you alone. If you wanna fuck Sam Wilson, do it, but don’t chain me along like your little bitch boy. Get fucked slut.’
You flinched as you read it and re-read it. You typed shakily as your eyes watered. ‘I’m not fucking Sam and I wouldn’t. I brought you there because I wanted to and thought you would like it. I didn’t know you felt so strongly about it. But I see what you think of me so I only wish you the best and hope you find peace.’
You sent the message but just as quickly, you were blocked from sending any more. You tossed your phone and fell back against the couch. That must have been why he took off but you couldn’t figure out how he thought you of all people were sleeping with Sam Wilson. Really? He was just another incel after all.
You phone jangled with your annoying ringtone and you grabbed it, expecting to be insulted by Reese again but it was Sam calling. You really weren’t in the mood to talk with him. You just wanted to be left alone. But you couldn’t just ignore Captain America.
“Hello?” you answered.
“Hey, I just got back in town. Whatcha doing?” you could hear the wind in the speaker.
“Just got home. I’m exhausted. Probably gonna just nap.”
“You okay?” he asked after a moment.
“Fine,” you said dully.
“Don’t sound fine,” he said, “what’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” you insisted.
“Oh, so it’s not what that boy said on your photo?”
“You saw that?”
“You tagged me, remember?”
“Oh, yeah, no, it’s…”
“Shit, don’t listen to him. He’s just a boy, he blew his chance and he’s bitter about it,” he said, “how about I come over, make sure you’re really okay?”
“No, I don’t think--”
“Ah, come on, don’t make me worry all night about you,” he chided.
“Sam, you really--” There was a knock at the window and you froze. “Sam?”
The line clicked and you heard the tapping again. You lowered your phone and went to the window. Outside, geared up in his wings and suit, Sam hovered before the glass. You blinked and he rapped again. You snapped out of your shock and unlocked the window and slid it up.
“What are you doing?” you asked, “wait? How do you know where I live?”
He grabbed onto the frame and hooked his leg through as he retracted his wings. He bent under and sat half-in and half-out of the window, “forgive me? I did a bit of snooping in HR.”
“I told you not to come. I really don’t feel up to-- It’s really weird that you’re here,” you sat as he ducked pulled his other leg through and stood, “Sam, I think you should go.”
“You shouldn’t be alone, especially after that moron sending you that shit,” he said coolly as he took off his tinted goggles.
“Well, I want to be alone, so you should--”
“I mean, I haven’t even fucked you yet and he’s jealous,” he snickered, “so I guess we should give him a real reason.”
“What are you talking about? That’s… gross. You should go--”
“Come on, girl, you think this was really about a drone,” he tossed his goggles down and set his shield on the chair as he strode around the room, “convenience. I want you close.”
“I don’t--” you looked down at your phone, “get out, Sam.”
The tone of your finger pressing ‘9’ sounded and he spun quickly to face you. He stormed over to you before you could hit ‘1’ and ripped it from your grasp. 
“You’re gonna call the cops and say what? I’m Captain America,” he snarled, “but you can just call me Cap.”
He winked and threw your phone out the window smoothly. You gasped as he chuckled and lifted his wings off his back. He leaned them against the wall and stretched out his shoulders. He looked around as he twisted his tongue between his teeth.
“I like this, looks cozy,” he toed the side of the couch with his boot, “look better with you on it.”
You watched him stroll around the coffee table as he unzipped the collar of his suit. The scene was like some tainted nightmare. Maybe you’d fallen asleep. You were so tired you must have just passed out but you weren’t waking up.
You spun around and ran into the small hallway that led to your door. You were caught from behind, pulled back by the nape of your blazer as Sam tutted. His arm went around your waist and he lifted you off your feet. He turned and carried you back into the front room. You kicked and writhed as his strength enwrapped you.
“Please, please,” you begged, “I… I don’t understand. This isn’t-- this isn’t what I wanted. I didn’t--”
“Baby girl,” he cooed as he brought you close to the couch, “be good and listen to your Captain. Now stop this.”
“No, no,” you gulped at air as the panic rose in you, “I never-- please, you don’t have to do this--”
“You gotta do what I say,” he snapped and flung you onto the couch, “I don’t want to make you.”
You looked at him as you trembled in fear and disbelief. This couldn’t be. He was Sam Wilson, the Captain America; he was a nice guy.
“You have one minute to get naked,” he said and you just gaped at him, “you gonna make me repeat myself?”
Your throat tightened as his dark eyes bore into you. His hand balled to a fist and finally you found an ounce of strength. You pushed your legs over the edge of the couch and slipped out of your blazer. You stood carefully and watched him cautiously. You had to look away as your hands quivered over the buttons of your blouse.
You turned and folded your shirt over your blazer. You could hear him behind you as you unbuttoned your pants and pushed them down your legs. The question of what you were doing flitted through your head but the fear pulsed through you and took over.
“Ah,” he sighed and you peeked back as he freed himself of the top half of his stealth suit.
You turned back and hesitated. You knew there was more, you knew what he wanted, but your body locked up as your fingers curled and your insides knotted.
“Let me get that,” he came close and his fingers tickled along your shoulder blades and he unhooked your bra, “hmmm,” he let go and the cups fell off your chest, “almost there, baby.”
He stepped back and you shuddered. You dropped your bra and hooked your fingers under your panties. You wiggled them down a little at the time and heard the intake of breath as you pulled them down entirely. You stood still, unable to move, too mortified to face him.
“Come on, baby,” he said, “get comfortable.”
You inhaled and turned slowly. You went to the couch as he shed his undershirt and added it to the pile atop his shield. He looked at you and tilted his head as he licked his bottom lip. He snarled as he took in the sight of you and pointed you to the couch.
You sat and hugged yourself as he stripped off his pants along with his boxers in a single swipe. You flicked your eyes away as you glimpsed his hard dick as he stood straight and you stared at the open window. You smushed your lips together in horror and held in the tide of tears.
He came closer and you tried to tune out the room. This couldn’t happen. It just couldn’t. You felt his hands on your knees and he urged your legs apart. You resisted for a moment then let him guide your limbs. It would be over sooner if you just let it happen.
He knelt on the floor as his hands kneaded along your thighs and framed your vee as he leaned over your lap. You winced and he kept your legs from closing as he pushed his body between them. His thumb grazed your folds and he pushed between them. You let out a hushed gasp as he swirled around your clit.
“See, it’s not so bad to be good, is it, baby?” he purred, “you’re wet already.”
He slid his thumb up and down and spread the wetness along your cunt. You were shocked and humiliated by your obvious arousal. You shouldn’t be turned on by this. Your body was not listening to your mind, it was obeying his touch.
“Mmm,” he hummed as he turned his hand and poked along your entrance with one finger. 
He pushed inside and you clenched around his intrusion. He pulled in and out and added another finger. Your nails clawed at the cushion and you pressed back into the couch. He kept his thumb on your clit as he worked his fingers inside of you and the tension clustered between his fingertips.
“Oh, baby, listen to you,” he bet forward and replaced his thumb with his tongue as he kept fingering you.
You turned your face up to the ceiling and squeezed your eyes shut. You bit your lip as the ripples radiated from your core and your breath hitched. His hand moved faster as he suckled at your bud and his free hand groped your chest blindly. You slapped your hand over your mouth as you came, your back arching as you pushed into him.
He teased you through your climax and pulled away only as you quaked and whined at his unyielding touch. He drew his fingers out of you and sat back to lick them clean. You peeked down at him and quickly away as his eyes blazed back at you.
“Up,” he stood and stroked himself shamelessly as he strode around the coffee table, “put your hands on there.”
You rose unsteadily, legs shaking beneath you as your entire being felt like jelly. You went to him and turned your back to him. You bent over and he grabbed your ass and squeezed with a growl. You gripped the table and hung your head as the cool air grazed your cunt.
He shoved his hand between your legs and rubbed you again. He stepped closer and bent his knees as he lined himself up with your entrance, sliding in between his fingers as he spread you wide. You choked as his tip poked inside and he eased himself inch by inch into you. He held your hip as he reached his limit and groaned.
“Baby, oh god damn,” he thrust so that your whole body jerked. It was painfully delightful. Of the few men you’d been with, he was the biggest, or at least the thickest.
He rocked slowly and a moan escaped your lips. Despite the torturous pressure of his intrusion, you could ignore the pleasure laced in the pain. His hand brushed up your as and along your back. He bent over you as his fingers curled over your shoulder and he pressed his body to yours as he fucked you.
You kept your head down as you tried to measure your breaths and the pathetic noises rising from you. He pushed his hand down your stomach and between your legs again to play with your clit. He moved his legs against yours and forced them together so your cunt hugged him even tighter. He grunted and you whimpered as his fingers added to the new pressure.
He sped up so that the table scraped against the floor but kept you up with one arm around you. He rutted into you wildly as his sultry voice filled your chest and his heat consumed you. You cried out as another orgasm swept through you and your cunt quivered around him desperately.
He pulled you up suddenly so you stood on your toes. He tilted into you as he brought his arms up around yours and tined his fingers behind your head. His flesh slapped yours loudly and you opened your eyes as you heard a familiar whirring. The drone flew before you, the signature on its shell, but a light blinking at its nose. Yours didn’t have a light.
“Ah, yeah,” he rasped through rampant breaths, “looks like they got mixed up.”
“Huh--” you sucked in your breath as he thrust harder and deeper.
“I didn’t mind, he helped me keep an eye on you,” he said as he nuzzled you above his hands, “you look so cute in your little tee shirts.”
You groaned and leaned your head against him as another rush of fear was met with unwanted bliss. You murmured senselessly as he picked up his pace and the drone came closer. He purred as you felt his muscles tighten.
“Don’t worry,” he puffed, “I’ll make sure the boy knows he was right.”
He buried himself in you, nearly taking you off your feet, and twitched as he emptied himself into you. He rocked his hips subtly as he rode out his climax and stilled you as his voice gristled to rampant pants. His arms fell to embrace you and he kept you flush to him as he lingered inside.
“Or I can keep that little video to myself…” he brought his hand up to cradle your chin and poked his finger along your lower lip, “it’s all up to you, baby.”
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mrs-mischief-209 · 19 hours ago
Mystic Love
AN: So, my friends in Discord we came up with a script idea for all our lovely writers. Avengers University with your favorite Professors. I did volunteer with Strange. He seemed like an overlooked character. Honestly, this is going to be out of my comfort zone. So please be nice. Angst
You were extremely nervous heading into class. Honestly, you were dreading the class. The last time you saw Professor Strange was when he was working as a neurosurgeon. You were in your training as a nurse. You had watched him work many times trying to learn his technique. You honestly signed up for the class based on what you were going to be doing with the Avengers. You were in training to become an assistant to Professor Banner and Professor Stark in the medical bay. Both professors as chosen all the classes you would need through your journey at AU. You did want to choose your classes, but you knew it was for the best to follow the plan. You were there to get specific training. You were not there to become a typical Avenger. You were there to become an assistant to the Avengers.  
Once in the classroom you went to the front row knowing you would just have to get through this class. As everyone made their way to the class. Your new group of friends made their way towards you but noticed that the first row was all taken so they sat behind you. Giving them sad puppy eyes Dr. Strange walks into the classroom. He looks different from when you saw him. He has facial hair looks more tired but still devilishly handsome. He took roll by passing a paper around for you to check off your name. somehow all the papers ended up on your side of the table. You listened to the introduction for what this class was going to teach you basically going over the syllabus. Once class ended you got up taking the papers over to his desk.
Professor Strange here are your attendance documents. You turn around to walk out of class. You were about the release a breath that you were holding. When you heard him call your name. you just stop in your tracks letting him speak to your back. “Y/N what are you doing here?”. You close your eyes without turning around you give him your response. “I am taking an accelerated course designated by Stark and Banner. I am going to be running the medical bay at the compound.” You wait for him to scold you. When you don’t hear anything, you decide to start to walk out of the class. Before you could make it to the door his damn cloak grabs onto you dragging you towards him. What is worse making you face him. You try to plea with the cloak. “come on please I need to make it to my other classes just let me get out of here and we can hang out just us two no need to bring Dr. Strange into this.” The cloak moves to the side still keeping a corner wrapped around your leg and just shakes side to side as a no. You have no option left other than to look up to Stephen. You look into his eyes and you are completely losing your train of thought. Damn this man and his way of always making you forget any sound reasoning. You stood there like a schoolgirl the irony of this was not lost on you. Since he was not going to break the silence. “So how have you been how should I refer to you? Dr. Strange? Professor Strange? Or Asshole?” you give him a sly smirk waiting patiently for his response. He gives you a look of amusement. “Y/N, while in class either title will work Dr. or Professor since I am both now. As to calling me an asshole I was at least to you.  We need to speak about what happened Y/N.” You look him in the eyes building your courage. “You don’t need to explain anything Dr. Strange. We will get through these 15 weeks. You will not need to see me or hear from me after this if you will excuse me, I need to make it to my other classes.” The cloak lets you go, and you turn around and storm out of the classroom. You went through the rest of the day angry and frustrated.
Stephen on the other hand is left frustrated and disheartened. He knew he had done a number on you before the accident. The fling you both had was an ego boost for him. To go around with a nursing student in her 4th year about to graduate doing her time at the hospital. Then to just ghost you once things started to get too serious for him. He remembers how you told him he would find the perfect woman for him. How you hoped she wouldn’t hurt you like you had hurt her since he deserved happiness. Even when he had caused you pain you wanted the best for him. He was a damn fool not to realize that the love of his life was in front of him. Honestly if he hadn’t left you that night of the gala breaking your heart, he probably would have never become the master in the mistic arts. He would not had gotten into that car accident. That is when he decided to stop running from you. The cloak even knew that he needed you that is why it stopped you. He did not even ask or think of stopping you from leaving class. He looked up your class schedule looking what your classes were and who with. It was an interesting array of classes you took fighting classes with Professor Romanoff, and Professor Rodgers. You took another magic class with Professor Laufeyson which he did not approve of he wanted you far away from Loki. Your last class was a weapons class with Professor Barton and Professor Stark.  He went to your weapons class to speak to Stark.
Stephen walked into your weapons class right when you were shooting arrows at the target Professor Barton had designated. But when he walked in it caused a commotion and you could not help but turn around with your bow and quiver before you knew what you were doing you released your arrow at Stephen. He had to create a portal fast to avoid getting hit by the arrow. He looked to you with a frustrated glance you just shrugged your shoulders. “You should not have scared me Professor Strange. This is not a class one can simply walk into and not expect to get shot at.” You turned around to face Professor Barton to continue in your archery lesson. He approved of you shot and seem to take you under his wing. Tony noticing the exchange between Y/N and Strange he noticed the tension deciding to ignore it. He knew that Y/N had loved someone still did but he had left her. He found it a bit that there would be tension between them since as far as he knew they did not know each other. “What can we do for you Wizard.” Stephen walked up to Tony and transported him to the other side of the classroom behind the wall. “I am here to talk to you Tony about Y/N.” Tony gave Stephen a pointed look. “What about Y/N? did she offend you in class? Was she too much of a smartass in class? I wasn’t expecting this talk until maybe 3 more weeks once she got comfortable with you.” Stephen shook his head. “No Tony, do you remember that after we came back from the dusting, I spoke to you about a girl I pushed away because I was scared of a real relationship?” Tony sat down on the table that was behind him. “Yes, I remember that story. Also, I remember telling you to find her and let her know how you felt and feel I guess. But the girl you spoke about has a different name than Y/N.” Stephen sitting down across from Tony. “Yes, the name I gave you is her middle name. I never got the chance to look her up or even find her. Like after my accident she completely disappeared until she enrolled here at AU.” Tony nodded to Stephen. “Well, she was recruited into S.W.O.R.D. her records were cleaned. That is how she knows Point-Break and Reindeer Games. She is a great agent. But we needed someone to head our medical division and she was one of the only people we trusted to take care of us while injured.” At this information Stephen was left without words. He never knew you would go into investigation of space. He wanted to know why. What drove you headfirst into danger when you were perfectly safe doing your normal work. That is all he needed to know He needed to speak to you. He had hidden form you for far to long it was time he let you know how he felt.
Class ended and you walked out of the building heading to your car. You noticed a golden circle on the floor around you. “you got to fucking be kidding me. Not today Stephen not today.” You jump up and leave an arrow for him to take with him. You found it funny he thought you would stand there and allow it to happen. That is why when you jumped, he didn’t follow the portal towards you. You head over to your apartment. Deciding to forget everything that happened today you go to take a bath. unbeknownst to you. Strange started to open a portal again. One minute you were in your nice bath the next you fell on the floor his is room and the Sanctum. “STEPHEN STRANGE! I need clothing at this moment what the fuck do you think you are doing just bringing me here without a warning?” Stephen was left in shock. He did not know you would be without clothes he just summoned you here without thinking. He tried not to look at your naked body. It had been 6 years since he last saw you naked. Your body had changed but still the same. You had become more toned had a few scars that you never had before. You had let your hair down, so he was able to see how long it was now. He walked to his closet before he could get you clothing the cloak wrapped around you. When you felt the cloak envelop you. You let out a sigh of relief. “Thank you cloak I appreciate your quick actions despite Stephen’s slow ones.” You get up from the floor waiting for Stephen to get you clothing he hands you some clothes and you turn around. “Cloak can you please cover me while I change?” The cloak nods and opens to form a barrier as you change. Once fully changed the cloak goes to where it came from. “So, what was so important Stephen that you had to interrupt my bath?” He crosses his arms while looking at you “First of all please loose that attitude you know we both need to talk. Second I would like the opportunity to explain something to you.” You look him dead in the eyes. “You know what Stephen this attitude you don’t prefer is me know this is what you caused now don’t cry to me about it. Sure, let me know everything since you never explained anything. I honestly don’t need it anymore it is 6 years to late.” He walks up to you and grabs your hand and leads you to the edge of his bed so you both can sit together. He takes a deep breath like if he needed to gain courage to speak to you. “Y/N I was scared I loved you back then and still love you. I pushed you away because of that. Not going to try to convince you that it was a mistake. It was something I was not willing to do or get fall in love and stay with one woman at that time.” You are left just looking at him blankly trying to process this new information. You had always known he was scared to let you in. I wanted him to be happy. It just never passed in your mind that it could be with you.
After a few minutes of the both of you looking at each other you finally get your words back. “Stephen, I appreciate you telling me this. But how sure you still love me? We both have changed, and we are different people. Come on I am a S.W.O.R.D. agent who now is also in the S.H.I.E.LD. division going to be working with the Avengers. Not exactly the naïve little nurse that you were with that year.” Stephen took it upon himself to show you how much he still cared. Come on all the feelings he had came bubbling back up when he saw you in the class. He pulled you in and kissed you softly deepening when he felt you kiss back. You both stayed in that moment just kissing each other again getting to know these feelings again. You slowly push Stephen away by his chest just to separate your lips and you lean your forehead on his chest. “Stephen, I can’t do this back and forth if we will do this, I need the security that you would not get bored with me and move on like you did before.” At your words Stephen stiffened his back. He got up and paced around the bed. after two laps he got down on his knees and crawled to you. Staying in front of your legs he looked up to you. “Y/N, I am sorry I love you I never forgot you I miss you more than you know. Please come back to me my dear make me the happiest man and be mine again.” You get onto the floor with him and capture his lips in yours melting into him. “I have not stopped loving you Stephen.” He smiled and held you close and cuddled into you. “You will not regret this Y/N I will show you every day how much I love you thank you for giving us another chance my dear you will not regret it my love I will not loose you again.”
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kaz11283 · 19 hours ago
I Think I'm in Love (pt 2)
Announcement: this is the second part of my "I think I'm in love....shit" Loki prompt that just got completly away from me. I just absolutly love writing all the request and the prompts sent my way. I have another song insperation that I am working on (in my head) that I will be starting on after I finish this one up then it will be back to writing for Fire and Ice for a bit. Thank you guys so much for all the suppost that I am getting and all the shares and reblogs. I didnt get to meet my goal for last month of 200 followers but i hope to be at that by the end of this month then I will try to think of something to do as a celebration so keep your eye peeled! 💚💚💚💚💚
Loki Masterlist
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"Lady y/n, Thank you very much for the dance. I shall find you again before the night is through to have another dance." He bowed taking your hand and kissing it.
"That would be a pleasure Sir Fandral. I shall save one for you." You curtised to him and turning to walk off. Before you knew it you had been swept up by yet another guest spinning you around the dance floor causing you to loose track of time.
"My Lady, may I have this next dance?" Thors voice boomed next you to causing you to smile.
"Of course you may, you did promise me at least one tonight." You took his hand and let him lead you across the floor where the crowd opened up leaving the dance floor open for you and the prince. You smiled as he wrapped his arm around your waist pulling you closer to him.
Loki huffed next to his mother and rolled his eyes. "Honestly, the way he looks at her."
"Loki Odinson!" His mother swatted at his arm. "That is your brother out there simply dancing with a good friend, if you are so jealous then why dont you go out there and dance with her?"
"I am not jealous of Thor." He said.
"You could have fooled me. The way you have been watching her all night? The way you act around her? You act more like yourself, and dont you tell me other wise. You would give that girl the moon and stars if she asked and you know it." Hearing his mother say it out lound stund Loki, sure hos brother had dropped hints and asked him multiple times about the two of you but all Loki could normally do was laugh about it.
"She doesnt feel the same mother. How could she? I am second best, I am not the one that will take the throne one day." He sighed looking at Frigga.
"Shut up Loki. You are not second best. You are my son. And not all girls want the future king, they dont wamt the crown or the popularity that it brings. Beleive it or not some girls just want to love and be loved. I see the way she looks at you with love and passion, you hung the moon for that girl at a young age and she will always beleive that. Go dance with her before I call you both out." Frigga gave him a gentle nudge forward shooing him away.
As Loki walked to were you and Thor were dancing his stomach was flipping and he was straightening out his top as best as he could. Walking up he tapped Thor on the shoulder causing his brother to turn around.
"May I cut in Lady y/n and possibly save you a few toes from being stepped on?" He took notice of how your face lite up and you eagerly nodded smiling he returned the smile and offered you his hand.
"We shall finish another time lady y/n." Thor bowed walking away.
"I was expecting to see you sooned Loki." You smiled up at him as you placed one arm around his neck and placing you other hand on his chest.
"I was talking with mother about some things." He placed his arm around your waist pulling you close just like the others had done but with him you felt more at ease like you belonged there in his arms, more protected, no one would dare cut in as long as you was right there with Loki and you liked that. He took his free hand and tucked a peice of your hair that has fallen down back behind your ear before placing his hand over yours on his chest. To others around you this was normal you and Loki behavior but to the two of you there was something diffrent settling between you.
"You look absolutly beautiful tonight y/n, my colors look absolutly amazing on you." He smiled looking you dead in the eyes. He took his hand and traced the sleeve down to your bare arm. Your breath caught as you meet his eyes.
"And you, my prince of mischief, look just as stunning." You grinned.
"Darling I always look good." He laughed cauing you to giggle. "I do tend to look just a little bit better though when you are around." It slipped out before he could even think.
"What?" Your mouth dropped slightly.
"Well this has seemed to make things slightly awkward." He said giving you a slightly forced smile. You pulled him tighter to you almost forcing him to look in your eyes.
"Dont try to joke your way out of that little comment Loki."
"Y/n, I think I'm in love, with you." He leaned in slightly looking you right in the eyes.
You let out a sigh of relief. "Oh thank the Norns, I think I'm in love with you too Loki Odinson." You pulled him the rest of the way toward you so that your lips could finally meet after years of dreaming of this moment. His lips were soft and welcoming, they felt like what you had always imagined and you never wanted to stop.
"Ah, see mother. Harmless tricks and small little fibs. I knew they would fall into each others arms before the end of the night. Everything is as it should be." Thor gave a big smile turning to his mother.
"Well you weren't the only one planting seeds tonight." Frigga laughed at the look on Thors face as it dropped. "Me and Loki had a wonderful heart to heart while you danced with her."
You pulled away from Loki and placed you head under his chin as he laced his fingers together behind you. "Would it ruin the moment if I told you I had nothing to do with the outfit choice tonight?" You asked looking up at him.
"No my dove it wouldnt, though I must ask, who picked it out." He laughed.
"Dont ask me why but your brother had it delivered to my room this afternoon with shoes." You could see the wheels turning in his head.
"Now may I ask you something with out sounding crazy?" He asked.
"Of course Loki."
"Fandral, did he ask to escort you tonight?"
"Norns no! Do not get me wrong, he is a very nice man but I would not have came with him tonight. Who told you that?". Loki turned away from you facing toward Thor and Frigga. You followed his gaze.
"Oh dear my eldest. It seems as if you have been found out." Frigga simply stated taking a sip of her wine as she watched the two of you walk thier way.
Thors eye widened as he took a few steps back. "Mother, what would be the plan?"
"I warned you that you was playing with fire when it came to those two. Loki and y/n are bad enough seprate when it comes to tricks, them together though? Much worst." She took another sip from her glass. "Dont forget that they are doing some redecorating in the west wing so that is completly blocked off." Thor kissed Friggas cheek mumbling a thank you amd turning to leave right as you amd Loki were walking up the steps.
"West wing is beimg redone so hes not there. He wont leave the castle, not tonight at least, but I do remember him turning to the right as he ran out." Lol I took off after his brother.
"So my dear? The mystery man you had mentioned so many time turned out to be my son? I dont know if I should be hurt or thankful that he has someone like you to keep him calm." She smiled at you.
You blusjed before looking back at her. "Yes, Allmother. Please forgive me for not tellimg you the truth."
"All is fine, of course you will have to finish your teachings since you will one day be a princess of Asguard." She smiled at you.
"Of course Allmother you smile taking a few steps back. If you will please excuse me, I must go find your sons so that Loki doesnt kill Thor." You laughed turning to run in the direction the two princes had ran.
If you would like to be tagged in any of my requests, one shots, or my series you are more than welcome to drop a message or a ask. 💚💚💚💚
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mischiefmanaged71 · 19 hours ago
Turning Tables (8/8)
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Summary: The five different ways Joaquin and Y/N’s love for each other manifests.
Author’s Note: Prepare for a whirlwind, gang! I can’t believe this is the end of a series! I CAN’T BELIEVE I WROTE A WHOLE NEW SERIES! For two years, I had not written anything. Look at your girl go! This is the last chapter of the ‘Turning Tables’ series. Unsure of where Marvel is taking Joaquin Torres in future, aside from the obvious adaptation of the Falcon mantle!! Most of this was inspired by my initial prompt for chapter 1, but the library-fic section was inspired by Danny Ramirez himself, and his love for reading - something which I can relate to myself as I am a book-blogger, and bookworm! Thank you all so much for reading my series! Reblog, like and comment your thoughts. Send me an ask or comment if you have any requests for Torres :) 
Warnings: fluff! Nightmares! TFATWS Spoilers! 
Pairing: Joaquin Torres x fem! reader
Word Count: 3.3K
Your heart beats in your chest, thumping through each step as you walk across the hall. The grey walls of the compound are encompassed by the darkness of the night. Sweat forms beneath your hands as you grip your phone tightly in your hand, navigating your path with the other. You scan the common living room, igniting a ball of light in your hands to survey the area. 
What was lurking in the dark?
What was happening?
And why was it here?
Waving your hand around, you see nothing out of the ordinary. Sighing in relief, you dismiss the nerves in your gut, turning around to return to your bedroom. The creaking of the door to your right has you looking up as a figure enters, shutting the door behind them. It's dark but you can vaguely gather it’s a woman. Raising your hand, your project the light brightly to cast on their face. What greets you next rips the air from your lungs as you gasp in horror.
A marred and tortured face reflects back at you.
“Hello Y/N, miss me?”
Your head shakes furiously as you back away, terrified as you shuffle on your feet to escape.
“Aww, you think you can escape.”, as you trip and fall onto your back.
“Don’t you remember, I always come back.”, she whispers, as you whimper and creep back on your hands and feet.
She crouches down, bringing her own flames in hand, smothering your face in her grasp as the screams rip from you.
Screams are wrenched from your throat as you grapple your arms around the air wildly. Someone is holding you tightly in their arms as you scream and wrestle in their grasp. You don’t recognise the cries in the room until you notice the shuddering of your chest. Joaquin holds you against his chest, nestling his nose into your neck as his gentle whispers bring you back to reality. Tears stream down your face as you quake on the bed, the covers long lost to the floor. Sobs drift into whimpers as Joaquin caresses your sweaty hair back from your forehead. 
“Joaquin…”, you whimpered,
His heart breaks to hear your cries out for help as you shake uncontrollably. 
“It’s ok, hermosa. It’s ok. It was just a nightmare.”, he kisses your cheek and rubs circles on your arm. You fall into his chest, tightly wrapping your arms around his waist to hide in his arms. The thumping of his heart saves you as you listen to the routine beats and mimic them. Deep breaths in and out.
Your head still spins but the warmth of Joaquin’s skin on yours is comforting. 
“I’ll protect you.”
“Go back to sleep, amor.”
Your eyes tiredly close in defeat as you hum into Joaquin’s chest in gratitude, drifting back into sleep. He stays awake for another hour to stave off any potential nightmares before falling back under, retaining his protective grasp over you. 
So long as he was there, he would fight off the nightmares for you.
The exclaim of amaze that leaves you is humorous enough that Joaquin is giggling to himself as he leads you into the library, hand in hand. He’s pulling you along through the great entry doors to the multi-storied library. There are stacks on stacks of books everywhere, ladders lining walls and too many bookshelves to count. 
Joaquin had mentioned a library couple times that he frequented and well, now that you’re spending most of your time together, he wanted to share some of his favourite places to visit. 
What he hadn’t known about you was that you were also a massive reader. You had from a young age loved books and reading. You always had an affinity for history and other worldly stories, and so, since you were a child, reading became escapism.
Leading you through the hall, Joaquin delighted in the awestruck expression on your face as you scanned the wondrous amount of books surrounding you both.
“And why hadn’t you shown me this sooner? Keeping it all for yourself, amor?”, you teased.
“If I had known you were as much of a bookworm as I, I would have brought you here long ago.”
“Yeah-I can imagine you shyly showing me around these shelves, our hands touching as we reached for the same book.”, you giggled as he tugged you closer, intertwining your hands.
He suddenly stops, leading to a section titled, Historical Fiction. Gently pulling you in, he silently walks into the shelves, scanning for a particular book. The different bolded texts and fonts peak out on each spine, inviting you to take a look. You’re both quietly taking in the covers. You drift to one side, pulling out a cover and reading over the synopsis on the back. Mumbling under your breath, the warmth of Joaquin’s hand leaves you as he walks over to grab something from the shelf. 
Joaquin extends a book in front of you, the midnight blue greeting your sight. The gold flecks of the title drawing your attention, ‘The Nightingale’ by Kristin Hannah’. 
“What’s it about?”, you take the book from his offering hand, reaching for his right to hold.
“It's about two sisters in France during the second world war and their varying experiences as they try to survive in their own way. It’s about love, family, determination and survival. All of those things remind me of you-and so I thought you should read it.”, he rambled.
A warm smile greeted his watchful eyes as you turn the book over and tug him along,
“Well in that case, we better borrow this now so I can start.”
Joaquin laughs as you throw his arm over your shoulder and allow him to guide you through the library. He pulls you along into different sections to show you his favourites from several genres, jumping into little rambles, stopping every so often to make sure you’re not bored. You intently listen, taking in all of his recommendations and soon enough the pile grows in your arms. But as soon as you saw the fantasy section, you were excitedly jumping into rambles about your favourites, recommending him the epic tales you knew he’d enjoy. 
The librarian stacking books on the adjacent shelf can tell from a look at the loving gazes exchanged between Joaquin and yourself - you’re a perfectly matched pair.
Takeaway cups in hand, you and Joaquin exit your local café that you frequent on this particular morning. It was his day off and you were technically on ‘leave’ so you spent these particular mornings relaxing. 
“Alright so we’ve established you have a sweet tooth.”
“Yep!”, you nod, holding up your coffee in agreement. 
“You’re afraid of spiders.”, eliciting a shudder from you.
“You like 80s music and BTS.”
“And, you like watching the sunset.”
“Yes, yes and yes. Now, for my question. Why so many questions this morning?”, you ask in confusion, a glint in your eye.
“I wanna learn everything about you.”, he exclaimed, reaching for your hand.
You kiss his cheek and nod, 
“Of course, amor. I’m just teasing. Ask away.”
The screeching of tires brings you both into action as you see the incoming vehicle speeding uncontrollably towards the street crossing. When you notice the civilians in their path, you send Joaquin a look as you discard your cup and move into their path.
You head for the car to stop its course while Joaquin handles the civilians. With a build up of energy inside, you store it in your arms as you prepare for the incoming jolt and launch to meet the projectile. Pushing against it with all of your strength, you heed as metal screeches against the ground, planting your feet for added stability. The soles of your shoes burn as you're pushed further backward before it halts completely. Reclaiming your composure, you exhale sharply and check on your surroundings. The driver looks a bit stunned but nonetheless, uninjured. Looking behind you, you spot Joaquin shielding the civilians. 
“Everyone ok?”, you ask.
“Thank you.”, the woman throws her arms around your neck, pulling you into a tight hug. “You saved me and my baby.”
Stunned, you allow your arms to embrace her lightly, “I’m glad everyone’s ok.”.
She retracts, smiling at you and nodding to Joaquin in thanks again, before gripping her pram and kneeling to check on her child once more. 
Joaquin looks over you for injuries, “Are you hurt?”
His hands run over your arms, holding them gently as you look up, “No, I'm fine.”, you breathe out, a smile skirting your features.
“You never cease to amaze me, Y/N/N.”, Joaquin slides his arm across your shoulders as you walk away from the scene, emergency services arriving.
Your laughter cuts through the chatter as you both move towards the police to notify them of the incident.
“Oh, I know.”, bouncing a ball of light in your palm as he guided you under his arm to the sidewalk.
You lay on the couch, dressed up for date night. You had ample time to put effort into your makeup and selecting the perfect outfit. It's an hour later when Joaquin walks in the door and you can see the physical effort he uses or lacks as he drags his feet through the door this evening. Still clad in his uniform, he dumps his duffel bag on the floor of the apartment. 
You quietly rush over to greet him as he shuts the door behind him,
“Hi there, handsome.”, throwing your arms around his frame.
“Hey, amor.”, he grips your waist, leaning into you as he relaxes.
“You want to talk about it?”, you invite.
“No…”, he trails off.
“Just let me get dressed and then we can go.”, he insists, nodding his head.
You caress his neck, seeing him unclench his jaw and relax, 
"I know you don't feel great, so let's stay home today, okay?"
“But, hermosa, you got all dressed up and you deserve to be treated. Let me take you out.”
You tutted, “Ah, ah.”
“Let me take care of you, ok?”, you whisper.
Tiredly, he slips that lopsided grin and nods, letting you lead him out of the living room towards the bathroom. You unbutton his jacket and shirt, helping him tug off the layers in his tired state. Leaving him a pile of clothes on the counter, you exit the bathroom to allow him to freshen up. Tugging on your heels, you flirt around the living room gathering what you need. 
Once you hear the water shut off, you light the final candle and shut the lights off. Hitting play on your phone, Frank Sinatra’s voice fills the room. 
 Fly me to the moon
Let me play among the stars
 Joaquin’s hair glistens with wet beads when he returns, clad in a button-up shirt and black pants. His eyes flirt around the room and the set-up you’ve managed to pull together in ten minutes. Candles surround the benches, illuminating the room in a soft, warm glow. You stand in the centre, looking at him softly as you hold a red rose in your hand. Joaquin quietly walked over as he looked you up and down in awe, taking in your beauty.
 Let me see what spring is like on
A-Jupiter and Mars
 “I ordered takeout for us so no worries on that end.”, you laughed.
A grin grows over Joaquin’s face, “Thank you.”
 In other words, hold my hand
In other words, baby, kiss me
 “You look so beautiful.”, he whispered, cupping your cheek gently as he leaned in. His face melded perfectly with yours as your lips met in a gentle and passionate kiss. He smiled, pulling you in for a deeper kiss which made your heart flutter and dance. As he slides his hands to caress your face, your hands drift around his neck. 
He suddenly sweeps you off your feet in a circle, eliciting a surprised squeal from you. Grabbing your hand in his and your waist in the other, he silently led you into a gentle sway to the music. You follow, leaning your head on his shoulder as he sways you both in the living room. Shutting your eyes, you bask in the moment, inhaling the scent of your coconut shampoo from Joaquin. You feel the vibrations of Joaquin’s voice as he silently sings along with the mellow tones of Frank Sinatra. 
 Fill my heart with song and let me sing forevermore
You are all I long for
All I worship and adore
 Suddenly, you look up at him and his heart is so full. Your heart melts and your eyes flutter shut when he leans in and presses a soft kiss to your forehead.
 In other words, please be true
In other words, I love you
The light of the computer illuminates Joaquin’s face as he types on the keys, laying on his stomach. It’s entirely quiet on the ground floor of the Airbase except for the clacking of the keys and his humming as he works. You lay with your head beside his computer silently reading a copy of The Nightingale.  
This was an entirely normal occurrence for the two of you, what with Joaquin’s late nights and workload. You both spent most nights together, whether that meant Joaquin coming to yours or you turning up at his, you’d finally find someone to fill that absent space in your life. Frankly, it was nice. 
It was better than nice.
This was the most content you’d felt in a long, long time. 
You’d both watched Sam’s speech to the public on his computer. After an emergency at the GRC meeting, Sam and Bucky had intercepted the Flag Smashers’ plans. The cameras were everywhere, reporting the new Captain America, Sam Wilson. 
To say you were proud would have been an understatement, though, the tears brewing in your eyes had spoken more words than you could formulate in that moment.  He truly was a good man, and that is what made him the Captain America that the world needed and deserved. Over the years, you had seen him put others before himself but you were glad that Bucky was now there by his side, someone to be there for Sam.
Drifting your eyes from the pages of the WW2 novel, you scan over Joaquin’s features softly as he works. You can see the thoughts brewing in his head as he forms conclusions and links. The way he squints his eyes and purses his lips in thought, pausing every so often. A warmth brews inside as your attention falls short of the book and now you’re just admiring Joaquin Torres. Clad in his uniform, he lay beside you on the hard ground as you twiddle your fingers.
“Hermosa?”, he hums, glancing at you as the book is placed behind you and you lay on your side.  
You can’t control the blush that washes over you at the name of endearment. Despite hearing it so often, Joaquin never fails to stir those butterflies in your stomach. A happy sigh leaves you as you roll over onto your stomach so he can’t see the massive grin on your face. 
“Hey…”, suddenly he is reaching over to touch your hand and bring you back into his sight. 
That light in his eyes glints even in the dim lights as he breathes out in that wide grin, his handsome features all on for show, 
“What’s that sigh for?”
He cocks his head to the side in amusement as you prop your head onto your arm,
“No reason in particular.”, you play along.
“Oh, nothing I had to do with?”, he perks an eyebrow in question.
“Mhm, maybe. Maybe not. I really love books. Maybe that’s what has me sighing in content.”, your gaze flickers away from him. 
“Alright, alright.”, he nods along, drifting back to his work despite still feeling your gaze on him.
“Thank you for making me smile.”, you whispered, although it echoes loudly in the silence of the late hours. 
Joaquin’s softens and dismisses his work as he turns, meeting you as you sit up. You're leaning over each other, the blue light of the computer lighting your faces. 
“Your smile is beautiful. Being the reason for it is my greatest privilege.”
You reach for his hand, intertwining your fingers and noticing how perfectly they seem to fit together. 
“You one has ever made me feel like this before.”, you admit nervously.
Joaquin tucks a lock of hair behind your ear as he listens intently to you. 
“I’ve been alone for so long and you have no idea how-how much you mean to-”, your breath hitches and Joaquin cradles your jaw gently as you shy away.
“Hermosa, hermosa.”, he whispers, bringing you in close to lean his forehead on yours. Joaquin gently caresses your cheek with his thumb, 
“I understand, I understand completely.”
“I love you so much it hurts sometimes,”, you giggled. You pause for a second, eyebrows furrowed as you’re thinking over something intently.
“Can I ask you something? Before you dismiss it, yes, it is a serious question.”
He lets out a breathy laugh, “When have I ever dismissed your questions as anything other than serious?”
You give him a pointed look until he nods and sends you an encouraging smile.
You’re barely an inch away from Joaquin’s face as you creep closer.
“When did you know?”
“Know what?”
“Well, that you were ‘it’ for someone.” How do you know?”
He thinks over it and nods, “Well, I’d say when you think about that person all the time. When the mere presence of them brings you happiness and joy and peace. When you know, in your heart, that you would do anything for them, without question.”, he whispers the last part, leaning into your ear as he pulls you close into his lap. Joaquin’s arms encircle your waist as your own glide to sit around his neck. 
“I would do anything for you.”
“Don’t let me go.”, you breathe into his neck.
“Not as long as I live.”, he shakes his head, leaning in close enough to feel your warm breath on his face. You lean in and capture his lips in a deep kiss, professing all of your love into the act.
Thank you to everyone who has liked and commented in regards to this series. I’ve loved writing it. Although this is the last chapter of Turning Tables, Joaquin Torres will be returning in Captain America 4 and definitely in my writings. Send me asks and requests, my inbox is open! Also when I was looking for the song, this gif popped into my head and I just had to do it! Absolutely adore this chapter so I hope you all enjoy it! xx
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@asoftie4bucky   @remmysbounty   @literallyjustfanfiction   @cjsinkythoughts @bubblegum28universe   @farfromjustordinary @hocusbowie   @alainabooks143   @marvelnerd18 @samscaptain @alexlynn16 @captainbarness @parkjammys @the-and-sign-anon @inspired-fandom-writer @nohemi2500 @cyarikashakira @supremethunda @nomorewsbucky @mrsdoradominguez-barnes @psychadelichues   @plaiddshirt @gryffindorwriter @sventeen-daybreak @1-2-3-4-5metalfingers @postycurrycorp   @barnes-zuko @vvipgot7be   @folkstyl-e   @barzal-burakovsky @mads-weasley @juneyse
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startrekkingaroundasgard · 20 hours ago
This Isn’t A Game (Bucky Barnes x ex!HYDRA!Reader)
Summary: On their first mission together, the reader has to prove that their intel is good and that they can be trusted after defecting from HYDRA. 
Warnings/Major Tags: mild threat, secret base, enemies to partners, recovered Bucky Barnes, reluctant allies, no Y/N
Rating: Teen
@buckybarnesbingo​ #B065 Square C2: labyrinth
Note: This is a standalone one shot but takes place in the same universe as the fics below. Please let me know what you think! Tag lists are open, too!
Related fics: No Escape - No One Is Innocent - Someone Like You - Bucky Masterlist
Words: 2004
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Heavy clouds hung over head, casting a dim greyness over the entire forest. The air was electric, saturated with energy ready to blow any second now. It was suitably foreboding as you twisted through the mud and trees, slowly creeping closer towards the base you’d hoped never to see again.
As the first drops of rain hit your face, you turned to Barnes and muttered, “I really could have just drawn you a map. I don’t need to be here.”
Of course, you knew exactly why you were there. After the last failed assault on a HYDRA, the faceless overlords at SHIELD weren’t willing to accept your intel or co-operation on Barnes’ say so alone. It was smart, really. Although you’d agreed to provide information in return for assurances of safety from your former employers, you had made a point of being as unhelpful as possible while still upholding the terms of your protection and spent every free moment (what little you had) of your time plotting a way to escape this new type of imprisonment.
It had all been so much more simple when they’d just locked you up in a cell. At least then you’d known the limit of your world: four unremarkable concrete walls, marked and scratched by the previous inhabitant, and a fenced track for your thirty minutes of exercise a day. Now, the boundaries weren’t so clear cut.
     “You’re here because I don’t trust you.”
    “You wound me, Solider.”
    “And you test my patience. How much further?”
You looked around at the sea of identical trees and shrugged. “Another mile before we reach the boundary, probably.”
    “Probably? Or certainly?”
    “I guess we’ll find out soon enough.”
Barnes stormed off at a furious pace, purposefully difficult to match, and it was beyond tempting to let him continue in the wrong direction. Maybe if he got lost in the forest, stumbled into a hidden defence and ended up captured, you’d be free of the pathetic situation you had landed yourself in. Sense told you otherwise, though, and you quickly called out, redirecting him north-west towards the furthest corner of the base.
You heard each of his grumbles as he doubled back, amused by the colourful curses. You wondered if he still had the fire to put any of them into practise.
Against every protest from both sides, and in a wicked twist of irony that was not lost on you, Barnes had been assigned as your handler upon your release from prison. On the one hand, you couldn’t have hoped for a better body guard. Though technically not his job, it was comforting to know that if HYDRA’s assassins did manage to track you down that you would be protected by one of the best soldiers they had ever created.
Unfortunately that was pretty much the only benefit of this cruel pairing.
Your demands (proper accommodation, your own clothes and a weapon to protect yourself – perfectly acceptable to your mind) had all been ignored, at least until you proved yourself worthy of the luxuries. Instead of a comfortable hotel you had spent the past two weeks hauled up in a crappy motel, the mercy of having a room of your own outweighed by the knowledge that it was bugged, your every movement being analysed and documented. Every time you located one of the bugs, another two appeared. Either Barnes crept around while you were sleeping or there were other agents watching you, not a pleasant thought given this was supposed to be ‘freedom’.
Defecting to the ‘right side’ was seeming a bigger mistake every single day. You never expected this to be an easy partnership but but Barnes’ gruff attitude was hardly helping. If anyone ever needed proof that silence wasn’t golden, you’d turn them towards him. It was anything but calm and peaceful around him, instead as tense and tight as the thick muscles across his shoulders or the large, pointed stick up his arse.
Barnes came to a halt beside you instantly. The metal plates in his arm silently tensed, fist clenched ready to release his pent up annoyance (mostly towards you) onto another target. Through the fog you could just make out the edges of an imposing concrete structure, marking this clearly as your entrance into the base.
You held up a finger to silence him – not that he was vocal enough to worry about annoying questions – then  took a few careful steps towards the largest tree. Almost 5 feet thick, it was a true monster. Hand against the rough bark, you felt a steady thump beneath your palm, the rhythmic vibrations of machinery beneath the surface.
    “Stand down, Soldier,” you muttered, uneasy with the blank expression on his face. It was hard enough to gauge his mood as it was, without him edging into Soldier territory. “There’s no one here. It’s an automated defence net. Have you got a knife?”
It was a pointless question to ask when you knew that he did, but it seemed more polite to request he hand it over than to try and take it from beneath his tactical vest. You valued your life too much to risk doing that.
Quick to confirm your suspicions, Barnes reluctantly handed over a small blade, looming over you like a hawk as you pried a piece of bark from the tree trunk. Inset beneath was a panel of flashing lights and biometric readers, a ‘welcome’ pad for any visiting HYDRA troops to alert the base they were on their way.
    “Are your access codes still valid?”
You shrugged, apparently the action of the day. Truthfully, you had no idea what would happen when you pressed your finger against the reader. Like any sensible, paranoid member of HYDRA, you had a number false IDs on the system but there was no guarantee that your false codes would actually work. There was only one way to find out.
The screen was cool against your skin, the light disconcertingly bright in the otherwise dim and dreary forest. Barnes hovered beside you, vigilant in his assessment of the surrounding area while also keeping a keen eye trained on your actions. The temptation to trip the system and summon an army of guard reared its head momentarily – delivering the Winter Soldier back to HYDRA would probably put you back in their good books – but you decided against it.
The thought of returning him to their servitude made your stomach twist uncomfortably; you pushed it aside quickly, not wishing to dwell on this newfound morality. It was for your own sake, you decided. You wouldn’t make it far with both SHIELD and HYDRA chasing you. Keeping Barnes as he was would be the best choice for you. If it benefited him then so what?
By some miracle, the access panel accepted your false codes and flashed green. The air shimmered as the energy barrier modulated, opening up a small gateway in the defences. Barnes started towards it but you reached out and grabbed his wrist, fingers curling around the cool metal plates. You could feel them vibrating softly beneath your fingertips, a false mechanical heartbeat of sorts. “I wouldn’t.”
Tearing from your grip, Barnes growled, “If you’re playing games…”
    “I’m not. It’s a secondary security measure. The entrance is this way.”
You circled the large tree and pulled on a low hanging branch. A hidden door opened with a hiss and you wrinkled your nose at the blast of stale air. The stairs were steep and narrow, the corridor just wide enough to accommodate Barnes’ thick frame, but neither of you complained as you slowly made your way into the depths of the base. A single strip of LEDs on the floor provided the only light to guide you until the staircase levelled out and brought you to a thick metal door.
Although it would have made quite the statement to let Barnes stroll in and shoot up the place, your orders had been for a stealthy retrieval of important files and you were not willing to start a fire fight just to satiate a grudge (however well deserved a resolution it would be to both you and your partner).
    “Put the gun away, Soldier. It’s only ever kids on duty.” You didn’t allow him time to argue, opening the door with a gentle push. “Don’t say anything. Let me handle this.”
Stepping into the brightly lit room, you nodded at the teenager at the singular desk. There was no other furniture save for a single, metallic chair and another security panel on the wall. The young man leaned forward, no doubt wrapping his hand around the grip on the gun kept beneath the desk. Standard operating procedure for every base.
    “Hail HYDRA,” you said, the words like ash on your tongue.
He repeated the sentiment but otherwise remained silent. His eyes widened slightly as Barnes stepped into the tight space. It wasn’t recognition exactly – very few had seen the face of the Winter Solider – but there was no doubt in his mind as to who your ‘guard’ was. Even without the metal arm and myriad of weapons hidden beneath his tactical vest, there weren’t many people as silently imposing as him.
    “I’m here to collect the latest files on asset Alpha-Seven.” You clicked your fingers. “Recruit. Pay attention. Hand over an access token before I have you reprimanded.”
Spluttering an apology, the boy didn’t even ask for clarification of your security codes. His fingers trembled as he handed over the access card, eyes never leaving the soldier beside you.
    “Follow standard shadow protocol until we exit the base.” The boy slowly turned to you, still watching Barnes with the corner of his eye. Noticing his small frown, you groaned and muttered angrily, “You do know the shadow protocols, yes?”
    “We, uh, haven’t covered it yet in class?”
In your most condescending teacher voice, sounding far too tired to be dealing with this, you recited, “Suspend all camera footage and wipe access records. It’s standard procedure when high level assets are present.” In case there was any doubt as to who you meant, you looked to Barnes and raised an eyebrow. “You can manage that, can’t you?”
You didn’t wait for a response, knowing that Barnes’ strong, silent glare would be more than enough to terrify the kid into submission. The door into the main base swung open and you strode through, head high.
Barnes, however, was not so impressed. He grabbed your shoulder, fingers digging into the flesh as he spun you around. His dark eyes burned into yours, anger masking something else that looked an awful lot like pride. You couldn’t know for sure, though, as it was swallowed by the black hole of his irritation. He shoved you slightly, not hard enough to hurt but more than enough to remind you that, regardless of what the boy on reception thought, you had precisely no power over him. “This isn’t a game. Take it seriously.”
    “Oh, lighten up. I got us in without killing the kid and ensured that tapes and all evidence of our ever being here will be wiped too.” You shrugged his hand off your shoulder, burying the jolt of fear beneath a smile he saw straight through. “I’d like to have seen you come up with something better.”
    “You’re risking the mission on a fake protocol?”
Of course he didn’t appreciate the ingenuity of your lie. Truly, though, what else had he expected you to do? There weren’t many other options in the HYDRA handbook that would have gotten you through the door without a little bloodshed. To think, he was the one that wanted you to prove you could be better person only to shit over your first attempt.
Shaking your head, you shoved passed his solid stature and started off down the hallway. “Keep up, Soldier. Get lost in here and you’ll never get out again. There’s a reason it’s called Labyrinth. Let’s get your bloody files and get out of here.”
Please let me know what you thought, comments and feedback are really helpful. Reblogs help to share my work and let others see it too!
Tag lists are also open, you can add yourself here or send me an ask/leave a comment telling me which list you want to be added to (permanent, all MCU, all Bucky)
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kayxleeee · 23 hours ago
Some Cute Habits He Has
Waring: NONE!
A/n: Totally a Steve Girl 
Summary: Imagine you noticing cute little habits that he does when he’s around you. Includes Steve, Tony, Bucky, and Thor.
Word Count: 292
*NOT MY GIFS* Do not copy my work
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Steve  has a habit of grabbing hold of your waist and never wanting to let go, especially when he’s asleep . Whenever you tried to get out of bed he would grip your waist tight, preventing you from leaving, and boy was the super solider strong. One night you had to nudge him awake because he just WOULD NOT LET GO and you had to pee.
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Tony has a habit of stealing kisses whenever he could. You could be in the middle of talking to someone  and he’d just come over and pucker his lips practically making you kiss him. It was cute and it made you feel wanted all the time. The play boy, philanthropist was a big ol softy on the inside and just wanted your constant affection.
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Bucky had a habit of pulling you in for hugs. Not just quick hugs, but long, lingering bear hugs. The types of hugs you didn’t mind getting every single day. The best parts were that he always smelled good and always was warm and inviting, so you had no complaint because it was just always a cozy hug. One time you were having a rough day because you had horrible cramps, he pulled you in for a hug and magically you felt 99% better. From that day forward you could have sworn that his hugs were the cure to all things. 
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Thor has a habit of playing with your hair. You always hated when peopled messed with your curls or touched your hair without permission, simply because it was annoying. It takes you forever to style it just right and as soon as someone runs a finger through it, it was all over with.  When it came to Thor you let the hair touching slide. He was adorable; he’d pull one curl gently letting its true length show, before letting it go, watching it snap back into a tight spiral.
Comments, Questions, Opinions :)
See more of what I have written so far: Masterlist
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luminousbarnes · a day ago
home – b. b.
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pairing: bucky barnes x gn!reader
summary: a soft morning spent with bucky
word count: 623
warnings: making out (?), fluff!!!!!!!
The feeling of Bucky’s lips pressed against your temple is what causes you to stir awake. You pretend to still be asleep, though, and cuddle more into his side. His arms wrap tighter around your waist and his thumb rubs small circles at the bare skin of your hip bone.
When Bucky starts to hum softly, you nearly blow your cover and gasp. Somehow, you manage to keep it together. After a few seconds, he starts to actually sing, something he’s never done in front of you before.
The sound of his voice makes your heart swell. He’s actually… not terrible. It isn’t a song that you know–probably one from the 40s, if you have to guess. But it sounds warm, inviting, and you feel like you could listen to him sing for hours on end if you actually had that kind of time.
“What song is that?” you whisper, cracking an eye open.
Bucky’s body jerks in surprise, and you grunt when his elbow knocks into your side. “Wait–uh, you heard me?” 
“Yeah,” you say softly, smiling. 
“Oh,” he clears his throat, “‘M sorry.” 
You shake your head. “Don’t be. It sounded nice.” 
“Are you sure about that, doll?” he asks with a small grin. 
He slips his hands underneath your shirt and you squeal at how cold they feel against your skin. You rest your palms against his chest as he presses his lips to yours, his mouth moving fervently against your own. His tongue swipes across your bottom lip and you gasp, immediately allowing his tongue to slip through. The kiss starts to become desperate until suddenly he pulls away, making you pout. 
“Sorry,” he says cheekily.  
You roll your eyes playfully and shove at his shoulder. “You’re such a jerk.” 
“Come on, you know you love me.” 
Sighing, you nod. “Unfortunately I do.” 
The offended look he gives you makes you giggle. “You wound me.” 
“Should we make breakfast?” you ask, starting to untangle yourself from Bucky. 
He shakes his head and reaches towards you with grabby hands. “Stay in bed, please. You know – let’s just be lazy for the whole damn day.” 
You have to say, that does sound extremely tempting. It doesn’t take long for you to agree with him. Besides, how could you say no to that? “Alright. Only because you’re so cute.” 
Bucky pulled you closer so you’re laying on top of him, and your nose bumps against his. His breath fanning over your face sends a shiver down your spine. “Hello,” you whisper. 
“Hi,” he says, eyes twinkling. 
“Did you know that you’re the most amazing man I’ve ever met?”
He rolls his eyes. “I doubt that, (Y/n).”
“Stop that. No one’s been as incredible, kind, caring, and sweet as you are, Bucky.”
His cheeks turn a light shade of pink and he presses his face into your shoulder. “Shut up,” he grumbles.
“Nope. Never.” You pause. “Could you sing again?” you ask him softly.
“You’re never gonna let me live that down, are you?” 
He lets out a deep breath and starts to sing again. You can’t help but grin, and he startles to chuckle. “Would you stop that? You’re making me nervous.” 
“Sorry. But wait–what song was that?” 
Bucky shrugs. “Just a song that I used to listen to back in the forties. Whenever I hear it, I think about you.” 
Your face flushes with warmth. “Oh.” 
As he starts to sing again, you lay your head on his chest and let out a sigh of content. It’s mornings like these that you’re grateful for–where it feels like you and Bucky are the only two people who exist, without a care in the world. 
He’s your home, and you’re his.
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chloelucia13 · a day ago
Made of Ashes
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x female!reader
Prompt: Faking your death wasn’t an easy thing to do, but SHIELD said that it had to be done. But you couldn’t stay out of the life you were born to have, even if it was risky. Even if it brought you face to face with the people who still believed that you were dead. Based off of “My Tears Ricochet” by Taylor Swift
Warnings: ANGST, a teensy bit of fluff, language, violence, gore, discussions of death (obviously)
Word Count: 5.1k 
A/N: We did it, boys, we’ve found another hyperfixation. Let’s see how long this lasts. Anyway, my tag lists and requests and DMs are always open! Hope you enjoy!
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Death was never a foreign thing to you. It seemed to linger, its presence permeating every interaction and movement as if to remind you that you never know what could happen. 
Just because it wasn’t unfamiliar didn't mean that it wasn’t miserable, though. You’ve lost so many friends, family, and everything in-between and it never seemed to get any better.
You knew how painful it was, but you could never imagine the pain that you felt when you witnessed your own funeral. When you watched the people you love grieve over you while you were only feet from them but couldn’t comfort them.
You had watched their tears streak down their faces as they stared ahead at the closed casket, their cheeks glistening under the rays of sun that shone down on them. You watched their hands tremble as they showered individual roses onto the gleaming mahogany lid before returning to their seats with their heads bowed low. You watched the light sheen of sweat build on their skin that made them wonder if this heat was comparable to what you had felt.
They were told that you were caught in a building that Hydra had bombed, pinned underneath the falling debris as the flames rose as engulfed you. They were told that your body couldn’t be found, that it was most likely hidden under all of the rubble or turned to ash. They had to bury an empty casket.
The word had spread fast, and the wake that they’d planned on being a small gathering became flooded with familiar faces from around the galaxy. Basically everyone was there, eyes damp and hearts heavy.
In a car tucked away from the wake but still in view of it, you and Maria Hill watched their grieving in silence. “This is all for your safety,” she had explained to you, but the guilt of what she had to do was still lingering. You had nodded along to her word, but your mind was in another place. 
It was stuck in a whirlwind of panic, hurt, and confusion as you stared at the man who kept his distance from the crowd of Avengers, but his shoulders still shook with sobs as your casket was lowered into the ground. The man who gave you heaven and gave you hell. The man you swore you’d love until you died, even if you were already dead to him in his mind.
And to him, it was true.
You and Bucky had met when he was still the Winter Soldier, when he had dragged Steve from the water and dropped his limp body directly at your feet. You remember staring at him in a panic, unknowing of what he would do to you. He had stared you directly in the eye and gave you a nod before walking past you, leaving you with a seemingly-lifeless Steve.
That small, but meaningful, interaction had led you on a manhunt of sorts, devoting your free time to finding this “Bucky” that Steve spoke so fondly of.
After a couple of months, you came across a reported sighting of the Winter Soldier in Bucharest, though the man was not hostile. Immediately, you booked a flight there and, without telling another person, snuck off to find this supposed Winter Soldier.
You found him at a small market in the middle of town, your eyes locking with his as he lifted his gaze. The panic he felt from being seen was evident, but that panic seemed to melt away as a smile grew on your lips. He was still on alert, though, as you crossed the street and walked over to him. It was clear that he recognized you, but your gentle demeanor gave him a strange sense of comfort.
That first meeting had slowly built up to monthly visits that lasted for days at a time, the two of you nurturing a relationship that was kept hidden from the word, especially the Avengers.
The day that Bucky’s past life came rushing back, the two of you were on one of your monthly “dates,” as you’d jokingly called it.
The blue of his eyes had drawn you in for a moment too long, prompting a chuckle from him. You rolled your eyes and pursed your lips, turning your face from his so he couldn’t detect the blush blooming on your cheeks. “What, I can’t admire the beautiful sight before me?” you defensively hummed in Romanian, crossing your arms over your chest as your examined the baskets of fruit in front of you.
“I never said that,” he teased, playfully bumping your shoulder with his before turning to the woman running the fruit stand and asking her a few questions.
The woman handed Bucky a bag of plums and you both thanked her before walking down the street. “Plums?”
He nodded, shrugging slightly. “I figured we could make something with them.”
“I think there’s still some phyllo dough in the fridge.” He nodded, but his attention was clearly elsewhere. You followed his line of sight and saw a man sitting in a newspaper hut staring worriedly at Bucky. You touched his right arm and the two of you exchanged a glance before making your way over to the man. The moment he noticed the two of you stepping towards him, he retreated back before running out of his hut.
Bucky pulled the newspaper the man was reading off of the surface it rested on and held it out in front of him.
“Winter Soldier Cautat Pentru Bombardmentul Din Vienna”
“Bucky,” you spoke slowly, forcing yourself to tear your eyes from the paper so you could look up at his visibly shaken face.
“We need to go,” he grumbled, placing the paper face down and gripping onto your forearm.
The two of you walked at a hurried pace down the street that led up to his apartment, trying to seem as inconspicuous as possible despite the fact that you both were shivering with fear.
After climbing the multiple flights of stairs with no one in sight, the tension slowly began to dissolve from the naive belief that they may not have tracked him down yet. His grip had loosened on your arm, as well, signifying that the fear had began to die down in his mind as well. The two of you silently slipped inside and closed the door behind you, letting out a soft sigh of relief when you could see that the apartment was empty. That breath hitched in your throat, though, when a pair of heavy footsteps echoed through the stairwell just outside the door. 
You nodded towards the bathroom door and he quickly pulled you into the small room, closing the door and tucking your form behind him. The creaking front door swung open and shut, and a shadow passed across the crack of the bathroom door. You gripped tightly onto the arm of Bucky’s canvas jacket and he placed his hand over yours, giving you a gentle nod. He led the two of you out of the bathroom and into the open space of the studio apartment, keeping your eyes trained on the familiar figure standing at the fridge that made your stomach turn.
After speaking out to what was most likely a voice in his ear, he turned on his heel to face you two.
You could tell from the look of pure bewilderment on his face that he absolutely was not expecting you to be there. “Y/N?” Steve questioned.
You gave him an awkward smile and a wave. “Hi,” you hummed with a simple nod.
A wave of emotions crossed over his face and he let out a sigh. “We don’t have time to talk about this right now.”
After the chase that led you, Bucky, Steve, and King T’Challa in prison, and the prison break that took place afterward, Bucky had kept his distance from you. He became cold, calloused to you. You figured that it was due to the stress of being framed for a crime he didn’t commit and the man who did commit it trying to tap into the Winter Soldier, but that didn't mean that it didn’t hurt. You’d spent months working on a relationship with this man who you loved more than you’d care to admit, all for it to be gone within moments.
But it didn’t go away, even after everything was taken care of and Bucky had came back to you.
The bright smile on your face couldn’t be suppressed when Steve and Bucky had came into view, both of them clearly exhausted from everything that had occurred. That exhaustion was tucked away, though, when Steve saw you standing there, and he quickly headed over to you and pulled you into a tight hug. You took his affection gratefully, the two of you chatting with equally wide smiles.
After about a minute or two, Steve told you that he had something to do before quickly slipping out of the room, leaving you and Bucky alone. Bucky stood a good distance from you, avoiding your gaze and keeping his stance rigid. It was obvious that he was still hurting, but you figured that your presence could cheer him up.
“Bucky,” you sighed, hurrying over to him and reaching out for a hug.
He turned away from your embrace, keeping his eyes on the ground and his face emotionless. 
“Buck?” You dropped your arms to your sides, brows furrowing in confusion as you attempted to search his face. He gave no expression, and you gave up on his face, instead glancing at his robotic arm that was no longer there. “Oh my god, your arm.”
“It’s fine,” he huffed, stepping away to stare out the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlooked the landscape of Wakanda.
He was shutting you out, acting more rigid than he did when you two first met. Your lips pressed together as you walked over to the windows, keeping a few feet of distance between you two. “It’s beautiful here-”
“God, do you ever take a fucking hint?” 
You jumped from the tone of his voice, giving him a look of shock while his face, still, stayed flat. “What?”
“I don’t want you here. I want you to leave me alone.”
His words made your heart sink to your shoes, but there was a pestering itch in the back of your mind that made you push him further. “You don’t mean that.”
He stepped forward until you were backed up against the glass, placing an arm on each side of your body and caging you in. “Don’t I?” He let out a huff, eyes trained on yours which were brimming with tears. “You’ve ruined whatever chance I had at being normal. You found me, you led everyone to me, and you got me sucked back into all of this bullshit.”
You shook your head. “I just wanted to help.”
He scoffed. “You sure helped a lot.”
You blinked back the tears and clenched your jaw, giving him a look of spite. You averted your gaze for a moment, eyes catching on the small black cord that peeked out from his shirt. The cord that was so familiar because it was a necklace you’d gifted him. You let out a huff before shoving his arm out of your way and stomping away down the expansive hall.
On your way to your room that T’Challa had given you the key to earlier, you ran into Sam, who immediately noticed the anger and pain radiating off of you. “Whoa, whoa, cool it on the stomping there. You might just smash through the floor,” he teased and gripped your arm with a smile, but it fell when his eyes searched yours. “What’s wrong?”
“Go ask Bucky, because I sure as shit have no clue.”
Months after you’d left Bucky in Wakanda, your “funeral” had taken place, and it pained you that you were never able to resolve the issues that had divided you two. 
You tried your hardest to live your life as normal (well, as normally as you could while staying as underground as possible and basically living a completely different life than the one you previously had), but that plan had crumbled and turned to dust like half of the planet. You’d lost Hill and Fury, the  only people who knew that you were still alive and were actively working to keep you safe. At first, it was horrifying to know that no one would be watching your every move as you’d grown so used to it. But as time went on and you realized that you had to be somewhat present in society, you had finally felt the freedom that you’ve been held from for years.
You lived life under the new identity that Hill and Fury had previously given you (Sandra McMahan, 27, unemployed, living in Boston, Massachusetts), but you couldn’t give in to the normal life that was at your fingertips, so close yet so far away. Instead, you launched yourself headfirst into researching all of the people who turned to dust. It was clear that it was a result from something that the Avengers fought due to the multiple sightings of spacecrafts that were documented on Stark’s databases, but it proved to be much more devastating than you could’ve guessed.
All of your friends were either dead or missing, and you couldn’t help but feel the immense guilt from the thought that you could’ve saved them.
Five years had come and gone in a haze of misery and loneliness, each day blurring into the previous day and the next day. You tried your hardest to participate in a society that was struggling to cope with the devastating loss that had occurred, but most days you had failed to get out of bed.
You still vividly remember the day of the blip, when the billions of people who’d vanished into thin air had reappeared just as quickly and in the same exact state. You remember the amalgamation of cheers and cries as people were reunited with their loved ones, all while you watched them from your 10th floor window in your dingy little apartment.
All alone.
The databases were updated at that point, displaying who had come back. Of course, there were still a few people whose status never changed, and no matter how long you refreshed the page in hopes that it would switch from “missing” to a blank spot where that word once sat, it didn’t. Instead, it changed from “missing” to “deceased.”
Hill and Fury had tried to get back in contact with you, but you ignored their messages, instead choosing to look deeper into the reappearance of one man.
You’d watched Bucky from a distance, lingering in the shadows as you went along with all of daily activities. Going to the grocery stores, spending Wednesdays at an asian restaurant with a man you didn’t recognize, and attending this weekly therapy appointments. His routines were, well, routine, until the day that he and Sam traveled to the Raft to break out the man who nearly landed Bucky in that same prison. They’d escaped successfully, and their movements brought you to Madripoor, a place that instantly settled a heavy weight in the pit of your stomach. 
The dress you wore in that dark and musty bar was itchy and the stares you earned from it made your skin crawl, but you bit your tongue and kept a straight face as you tucked yourself away into a dark corner. The doubt that itched in the back of your mind of how the three men would show kept growing stronger and stronger, only for it to shift into pure terror as Bucky and Sam walked in with that bastard. 
Bucky’s face was as still and hollow as it was the first day you met him, that hauntingly empty look that made your insides churn. But that churning was incomparable to the bile that bubbled in your chest as he attacked men at Zemo’s word, his actions harsh and merciless.
Silently, the three men were led into a back room by an armed man, and once the trio disappeared into the room, you overtook the man and disarmed him. You gripped the gun in your hands and stood just outside of the room, still lingering within earshot.
Zemo and who you assumed to be Selby discussed some sort of contract that had to do with the super soldier serum, of which he offered Bucky as payment for information on where to get the serum. The discussion was cut short by Sam’s phone ringing, which snowballed into a situation much bigger than they were expecting.
As Selby ordered for them to be killed, a gunshot rang through the air and Selby’s words were cut short. After attacking the guards that surrounded the room, the three men escaped out the back door, and you followed them. The road leading out from the bar proved just as treacherous as another spray of gunfire sounded from all around, and you all sprinted down the narrow street and into an attached back alley.
You shot down the two motorcyclists that had followed them in and stepped out of the shadows, gun trained on Zemo as your hands shook with fury. “Disarm him,” you spat, finger hovering over the trigger.
“Y/N?” Sam spoke, voice laced with shock.
“Power him down, Zemo,” you continued, ignoring the shocked looks from Sam and Bucky. “I will not hesitate to blow your fucking brains out!”
“Drop the gun” Bucky roared, making you jump. 
“Well, this is too perfect,” a woman’s voice echoed, standing in the space next to you and aiming her gun at Zemo. “Drop it, Zemo.”
Zemo slowly lowered his gun to the ground and held his hands in the air, retreating back as the other two men walked forward. “Sharon?” Bucky spoke.
“You cost me everything.”
“Sharon, wait-” Sam pleaded.
The four of them bickered while you stepped back and lowered your gun to your side, trying to catch up with everything that was going on while also trying to comprehend why Bucky was with Zemo, why he acted like he was the Winter Soldier.
Sharon’s offer of refuge seemed to draw everyone in, but as they all began to walk, Bucky turned to you and gripped both of your biceps in his hands, forcing you to drop your weapon. He backed you up into the brick wall and tightened his jaw, the rough material scraping against your exposed back. “Bucky,” you cried out.
“Who are you?” he hissed, pulling you close to him before swiftly slamming you back against the wall, knocking the breath from your lungs.
“Bucky, it’s me. It’s Y/N. Please.”
“Y/N is dead.” Sam appeared behind him and rested a hand on his shoulder, but he shrugged it off. “Who. The fuck. Are you.”
“Bucky, we don’t have time for this!” Sam snapped. “She’s coming with us, let’s go.”
You silently pleaded with Sam but he walked away, allowing Bucky to wrestle both of your arms behind your back and walk you to the car.
*** As Sharon and Sam and Zemo conversed, Bucky dragged you into the first room he saw and threw you inside, locking the door behind him.
You let out a hiss of pain as you pushed yourself up into a sitting position, glancing dow nat the rug burn on your palms before looking up at Bucky. “Buck, come on, it’s me,” you begged, watched as he leaned against the wall that faced you.
“Don’t call me that,” he hissed, lips pursed tightly. “Who are you and why are you here? How did you find me?”
You spoke slowly, “Bucky, it’s Y/N Y/L/N. We met in Bucharest, we were... We were best friends, until...”
“What, until I went to Wakanda or until you died?”
“They made me fake my death, Buck, it wasn’t my choice. They made me hide away from everybody for what they said was my own safety. They said that I could be used by Hydra to get secrets about everyone, about you.” You let out a trembling sigh. “I’ve been hiding for seven fucking years. I’ve been alone for seven years.”
He looked away from you, gliding his tongue over his bottom row of teeth before pulling his bottom lip between his teeth. 
“You cut your hair,” you spoke after a moment’s silence.
“You came back from the dead.”
“So did you.”
He shot a glare at you, standing up straight and walking over to sit in a chair on the other side of the room. Hesitantly, you rose to your feet and walked over to him, leaving about 10 feet of distance between you two. “How did you find me?”
“Stark’s databases. They said that you were getting court-mandated therapy in New York City, so I went there, and I guess I just followed you from there.”
“Why...” He cleared his throat. “Why didn’t you talk to me?”
“Well, first of all, I couldn’t. I didn’t want to risk you getting hurt because of my selfishness.” You sat in the chair adjacent to his. “And I figured that it would be best that I stayed away from you since you despised me.” 
He let out a sigh, mouth opening to defend himself. 
You shook your head. “Do you know how much that hurt me?” you cried out, lower lip quivering. “I-I thought that you cared about me, but you didn’t, did you?”
“I can say the same fucking thing about you!” he snapped. “When I came back from the blip, I saw you everywhere! I thought that you were haunting me, that my guilt was just making you appear, but it was actually you!”
“I didn’t want to do that, okay.” “What, you didn’t want to haunt me? You made me miserable!”
“That’s just what you said the last time I saw you.” You pushed yourself out of the chair and faced away from him, not wanting him to see you cry. “You were one of the only people I had. After you left, I wanted so badly to go see you. I could’ve gone anywhere, but the one place I wanted to be was with you. And then I had to hide away from the world, and I had no one. And I had to live with the fact that I would never be able to fix things between us.”
“You’ve really got some balls to say that shit.” He gripped your arm and spun you around to face him. “Fuck you, Y/N. Fuck you and everything you did.”
You yanked your arm from his grasp and stormed away. “I don’t think I’m the one to blame here, Bucky.”
You slammed the door shut behind you and walked past the room where the other three were gathered. “Hey, where are you going?” Sharon shouted.
“Outside,” you grumbled, walking out into the open courtyard in front of the house. 
Sobs bubbled in your chest and past your lips, collapsing onto the front steps with your head held in your hands. Your shoulders shook and though you tried to keep the noise to a minimum, you couldn’t hold back the hiccups of air that you tried to breathe in.
Heavy footsteps clicked on the pavement behind you a few minutes later, and you hastily swiped away the tear tracks that soaked your cheeks. “Sam, I’m fine. I’ll be in in a minute and you can interrogate me all you want,” you choked out, wrapping your arms around your knees.
“Not Sam,” Bucky’s gruff voice rumbled behind you, his form settling beside you on the steps.
You pursed your lips, eyes trained on the concrete path ahead of you. “Why did you go to the wake?” The words tumbled from your mouth before you could stop them.
“I... I saw you at my wake. Why were you there? I thought I was dead to you.”
He shook his head. “You were never dead to me. You... God, you were the only thing keeping me going. You were all I had.”
You finally lifted your gaze to his face, locking eyes with him. “Then why’d you hurt me?”
A sigh left his lips. “After that chase in Bucharest, I... I guess I realized that you being with me wasn’t safe. And then when Zemo was able to get the Winter Soldier to come out...”
“So you hurt me to keep me from getting hurt.”
“What, am I wrong? God, when you push people away you really go for the heart.”
“It’s not like it was easy for me! When I saw how badly I hurt you, it felt like a part of me died inside.”
“But you still had every goddamn piece of me in your hands. Was that not enough for you?”
He stayed silent, searching your eyes for a moment before directing his gaze to his shoes. You scoffed and pushed yourself to your feet, turning on your heel to leave.
Bucky reached his left arm up, the cool metal curling gently around your wrist as he also stood up. In one fluid motion, he spun you around to face him and pressed his lips into yours. You froze in shock, but before you could even decide how to feel about his bold actions, he pulled away and searched your eyes. 
You let out a shuddering sigh, trying to gather your composure as quickly as possible. “Bucky, I would’ve died for you.”
“That was the last thing I wanted. It still is.” His cool fingers loosened their grip, delicately gliding along the back of your hand. “And when I found out that you died, I blamed myself. I told myself that if I hadn't hurt you, if I was with you, then you would’ve lived.”
“My therapist, she made me create a list of people that I need to make amends with. I-I’ve gotten through most of it, but there’s a few names that I still need to get through.” He dug in his back pocket, fishing out the small pocketbook and turning to the last page. “I wrote your name down. I-I knew that there was no way I could ever make amends with you, but I felt like I had an obligation to.”
You stared at your name scrawled out on the page in his messy handwriting. It was the only name on the page, placed right in the center. Tears welled in your eyes and you let out a shaky breath, unable to find the words to say.
“You don’t have to forgive me, and honestly I don’t expect you to, but I just needed-”
He closed his mouth, his sweet blue eyes following your movements as you closed the book in his hands and settled both of your hands on his cheeks. You could see the stress melting off of him as soon as he felt the warmth of your touch, his shoulders dropping slightly and a hint of a smile threatening to crack on his lips.
“Bucky Barnes, you are the most stubborn son of a bitch I’ve ever met,” you sighed, giving him a small smile. “And I know it’s because you’ve been hurt more times than you can count, but if I can take away some of that hurt, I’d do it a million times over and never regret it.” The tip of your nose brushed against his, and you heard his breath hitch in his throat. “I forgive you.”
With a gentle tilt of his head, his lips bumped against yours before quickly locking together. Your fingers drifted down his cheeks and his throat before clasping together behind his neck.
He stole a few more quick kisses before pulling away completely, his tongue darting out to wet his lips before permitting a smile to rest on his face. You mirrored his smile and carded a hand through his hair. “Y’know,” you breathed, “I really dig this haircut.”
He arched a brow. “Really, I thought you liked the long hair.”
“I did like the long hair! It just... This is more you. Not the Winter Soldier, not HYDRA. You.”
You felt his arm pressed against your body as he tucked his book into his jacket pocket before both arms tenderly snaked around your waist and pulled you close to him. He pressed a chaste kiss, then two, then three onto your lips before letting out a small sigh.
“I’ve got clients coming in half an hour and I’d prefer not having people with targets on their heads making out on my front step,” Sharon shouted from the front door, giving both of you a pointed look before stepping back inside.
“I should leave,” you hummed, dropping your hands to your sides and beginning to wiggle yourself free of his grip.
“Y/N,” he breathed, fingers catching onto yours and weaving together. “Stay. Please. I... I just got you back, I don't want to lose you again.” Your eyes locked with his and he held the stare for a few moments before clearing his throat and shifting his gaze to the ground between you two. “Besides, I think Sam and Zemo might kill me if I don’t go back in there without you.”
You giggled. “Oh, that’s the reason you want me to go in there with you?”
“Yeah!” His voice was nearly drowned out by your laughs, but he persisted. “I swear to god, if looks could kill, I would’ve died before I could’ve even gotten out here to talk to you. Fucking Zemo even said something about ‘when you’ve got a woman like that, you should never take hurt them.’”
You grinned. “You think he’s wrong about that?”
He shook his head fervently. “No, no, not at all! I just... I guess I’m out of practice with this whole... talking thing.” He let out a breath and squeezed your hands. “I need to catch up on the seven years that I’ve spent without you, and there’s no better time to start than now.”
You bit down on your lower lip to suppress the smile that was close to splitting your face in two. “I don't know, Bucky, but that sure sounds like some good talking to me.”
He rolled his eyes, but a smile finally began to settle on his lips. “Shut up.”
You pressed a final, sweet kiss to his lips before slipping from his grasp, giving yourself a moment to admire the purple light that caressed his skin. “Come on, let’s head inside before Sharon loses her shit.”
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mossybank · a day ago
Dating Wanda Maximoff Headcanons
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Wanda Maximoff x GN!Reader
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Romance with Wanda would be a slow burn, her being too nervous to express her feelings and you the same
You'd start off as friends but Wanda would mostly watch you from afar, a distant but warm smile on her face, learning about you before making too many moves
The two of you would already be isseprable before dating, always teaming up together on missions and spending all of your time in the compound in eachothers company
If you want to know how the two of you got together, blame Scott (or, rather, thank him) because he was definitely the last straw to get you two to confess
He assumed you and Wanda were already a couple, you practically acted like one, and made a comment on how cute the two of you were and how he loved having another superhero couple around admist gushing about Hope
Once you start dating, you're 1000x more affectionate
Already attached at the hip, everyone kind of expected it
The two of you are constantly holding hands, Wanda loves to lean her head on your shoulder
As for dates, I feel like you and Wanda try a bit of everything but your favourites are movies and rollerskating
There's a local rink that has an 80s night every Saturday and you and Wanda always go, the staff know you by name, and put together some of the best outfits for it
You also got custom matching rollerskates <3
And for movie dates, they're pretty evenly spread between dates in movie theatres and dates watching movies in your rooms
I usually like to go with petnames like 'honey' and 'sweetie' for Wanda, but she'd definitely give you some Sokovian petnames too, I specifically really like 'Draga' which from my research seems to translate into honey/sweetheart
Wanda favours watching movies at home, snuggled up in bed together with her head resting on you and you playing with her hair (and vice versa)
9 times out of 10, the two of you fall asleep midway through the movie entangled in eachothers limbs
Speaking of Sokovian, you start asking her to teach it to you and it makes her heart absolutely melt, living in the US and Pietro no longer being around means she isn't able to speak her native language often (if at all) so you learning it just for her is so intensely intimate
She'd sing to you in Sokovian a lot, especially if you have trouble sleeping, stroking your hair as she lullabies you to sleep
I absolutely love domestic activities with Wanda, I want to do nothing more than cook and bake with her (which I've actually wrote a fic on here)
Constant 'I love you's and words of affirmation
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You definitely have a somewhat secret language where you can communicate with each other purely through looks
The avengers are super supportive of you guys but they also love to tease you a lot, Wanda getting all blushy and smiling coyly— she always looks to the floor with a smile and if you're already holding hands she gives it a soft squeeze
For the most part it's very pure relationship (but if yall wanna know about the unpure, i can do that 😈😈) and the two of you bounce off of each other wonderfully <3
To be added to a taglist, please send an ask or dm specifying the fandoms/characters you'd like to be tagged in the fics for!
Tags — @tatesimper @amourtentiaa
120 notes · View notes
mgopalace · a day ago
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All that glitters - S.R
Summary: Steve x fem!Reader where the reader is a skilled illusionist performing at one of the Stark galas
(Warnings// smut !!!Minors DNI!!!, also my first one shot oops)
Steve Rogers has always prided himself on being a realist; on seeing the world how it is. It is this quality that has allowed him to act under pressure, to see past the attempted deceptions of war criminals. In fact, Steve owes a lot of his ego to this trait. Which is exactly why his inability to see past your cleverly constructed illusions and stage gambits is driving him up the wall.
Steve’s eyes are trained on you as you hold up two black gloved hands and fein innocence to a confused audience wondering exactly how you guessed the first three digits of Tony Stark’s social security number. Of course, it’s not gala etiquette to reveal such personal details about your host to his esteemed guests (especially on his birthday), but then Tony Stark has always had a soft spot for illusionists in glittery bodysuits and it seems he can overlook this small discretion. While the billionaire gets his kicks from a pretty woman with a few magic tricks up her sleeve, you get yours from the audience members you can leave captivated for days so seeing the blonde super soldier balancing on the edge of his seat, eyebrows furrowed and elbows resting upon his knees as he leans forward anticipating your next move is an image you can really treasure.
He follows your movements with deadly precision, eyes trained on your fingers scanning for slight of hand. He doesn’t find any and it drives him crazy. So he follows them again so intensely he doesn’t notice your knowing smirk. You finish your trick, a standing ovation erupting into a manic crowd as you sink down into the pop up stage and disappear into the dark swirling ribbons flourishing in spirals around you. Satin falls to the ground to reveal you gone from under it, at which point you appear standing on the counter of the drinks bar, spotlight focused on your figure making your gold costume glimmer against the fluorescents. It causes Steve to stand and turn rapidly on his heel, too enamoured by the glint in your eyes and the smirk plastered across your face to cheer along in the crowd. His lack of enthusiasm makes him stick out impossibly and you spot him immediately, expression pushing irritated rather than impressed. Your smile falters a little and your mood turns sour at the prospect of America’s golden boy being too pissed at his ego being hurt to appreciate a good act when he sees one; it’s a feeling that boils your blood and it stays with you as you change from your performing clothes into a tiny cocktail dress in a separate room and strut back into the compounds gala.
And there he is, alone at the bar with the same twisted expression. Its just enough to carry you over to the spot right next to him, eyes boring viciously into the side of his skull as you order your drink and wait for him to turn to meet you. Then he does, blue eyes already begging the question ‘how?’.
“Hey I’m Ste-“
“You know, it’s rude to not clap at the end of the show. Especially if the act was as brilliant as I know it was.”
That caught him off guard. His lips part and close again without saying anything. And maybe it’s the way you interrupted him just now, or the vindictive strides you made unfalteringly towards him the second you stepped back in the room but Steve is infatuated. The corners of your mouth turn up into a smirk as he stumbles over his sentences, struggling to choose his words before finally landing on
“It wasn’t personal.”
“Then what was it?”
Now it’s his turn to smirk as you fight back a small laugh. Its a laugh that shakes the tension from your shoulders and burrows into his mind, a memory that will last. He trades you drinks for stories for most of the night until the party crowd begins to clear out and you decide you should follow.
But Steve’s determined to see what other tricks you’re hiding.
Warm soft lips press to your jaw peppering kisses against sickly sweet scented skin refuting your home bound attitude. Large hands held firmly to your hips running gently up and down your satin-covered sides, urging you to stay here, follow him. You give in to the warmth of his towering figure, threading your fingers through his golden locks pressing him further into your neck. Steve pulls you by the hand through the dispersing crowd towards the private elevator, ignoring Sams whistling and teasing as it grows quieter back into the distance. If he’s being honest with himself, Steve knows he’ll never hear the end of this after tomorrow. And if he’s being honest with himself, Steve has planned that from the first second he saw you in that golden glittery bodysuit.
The elevator doors can’t open fast enough as your hands pluck at the strained buttons of his crisp white shirt, his own hands gracing the hem of your satin wrap pushing it up, up, up as the two of you travel up, up, up. His thumb rubs against your smooth thighs eliciting a soft sigh as his lips curve against your own, sucking slightly on your bottom lip. Your arms circle his neck as he uses his own to hoist you up by your thighs, elevator doors opening like the golden gates of heaven and you feel like Dorothy in Oz: dazed, thrilled and dizzy all at once. He carries you blindly to his room, too enthralled in the taste of you to get a look at his surroundings.
You stumble backwards, feet flailing for footing, when he drops you down to close and lock the door behind him. He’s back on you in a flash, tickling your neck with his laboured breaths as you giggle against his shoulder. Steve grasps the edge of your dress, gathering it in his hands and pulling it up over your head. Sounds of the dying party below the two of you are masked by a breathy moan that escapes from the blonde’s mouth as he scans your lingerie clad body and you fumble backwards onto his soft sheets.
Its now, his lips pecking and nipping at the skin of your body, when you take a minute to take in the view of the room. His walls are cream, his furniture dark wood and brown leather. Little covers the walls apart from a few watercolours and an unframed photo of the team tacked to the wall above his desk. Your mind swirls between a desire for your picture to be hung right up there with it and the way his lips are moulding to the exposed skin of your lace covered breasts. You push the collar of his unbuttoned shirt down with the tips of your fingers and he leans back to shake it off, let it fall down on the wood panelled floors. You return the favour, reaching behind your back to unhook your black Lace bra and throw it across the room. He leans back over your body to kiss you, pupils blown wide like a damn lunar eclipse and you push up on your forearms to meet him halfway because you’ve always loved the moon. Lips moving in tandem, waves meeting the shore.
He rises up from your face only to sink back down lower on your body. Strong hands rub your thighs and plump lips follow. Chaste kisses to the inside of your legs now because he’s done waiting and so are you. His thumb presses heavy against your clothed clit causing your knees to shoot up to close together. Face inches away from your heat, almost salivating as he uses his free hand to push your legs back down against the mattress. Steve’s fingers curl around the waistband of your underwear. He pulls them down and off your ankles before his hand travels back up your thigh and his thumb finds home again rubbing slow circles on your clit. He stands for a second to yank your waist to the edge of the bed, kneeling down in front of it. Just for a moment he catches a glimpse of your naked form; his head spins to think that underneath the glittery gold bodysuit that he first saw you in, you looked like this all along.
Your breathy moans chase the rhythm of his fingers as they move inside you, curling every so often as he sucks harshly on your clit. Steve wonders how any classical symphony can boast beauty when the siren sound of your voice fills the room and his senses. Fingers lace through his golden locks pulling him impossibly close as you chase your high. Its ambrosia to him, he can’t help but taste it. And then he’s crawling back up your body, sweat prickling at your forehead as you lie spent on his soft simple sheets. Hands scramble to rid him of his clothes and you shuffle backward on the bed together. Legs part to allow his own body to settle between them. Your hands claw frantically at his shoulders, fingernails raking down his back as he pushes in. The pace is slow, torturous and he keeps you right where he wants you. Messy, moaning and out of breath. Fingertips bruising your hips at each side and his left arm snakes under the back of your head, tugging gently at your soft silky hair, forearm propping him up just enough for your chest to press taut against his own when your back arches.
His lips brush back against yours, tongue swiping and licking at your own. He holds you like that unforgivingly until you’re finishing together. Your eyes flutter shut as Steve lays at your side, waiting a moment before he turns onto his side pulling you close to his body as your breath shallows out. Then he’s kissing your hair, large hand rubbing soothingly against your lower back as you bury your face into his neck and pull him closer.
“I think we should see each other again,” he says.
“if you wanna hire the act my hourly rates are on my website”
“Very funny.”
Whew my first post 😳
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buckyblues · a day ago
coney island , bucky barnes
— (fem!reader x 1940s!bucky)
summary; It’s been decades since Bucky has visited this place, but it’s the closest he’ll ever get to seeing you again.
warnings; fluff, angst, grieving, mentions of trauma, sorry for the sadness.
word count; 900
a/n; this is told through present-day bucky’s memories and thoughts. enjoy <3 - stellie
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This place has changed a lot since the forties.
Everything from the very bench that Bucky sits on, worn and wooden, to the new hotels that have popped up around the beach.
He used to come here before the war, hitching rides with Steve on trains on sunny weekends. It was the place to be.
The salty ocean waves in the distance, snacking on hot dogs and taffy, playing all day long. If Bucky squints, he can see you skipping across the near-empty beach. You’re in that sundress you wore the first time he saw you, laughing.
It’s quiet now, here at night. Coney Island isn’t the same without his best friend or his best girl, and he didn’t come here to have fun.
I’m here to make amends. Not because I hurt you, but because I promised if I lived, I would come back to you.
Bucky never came home. You wrote letters to him until it drove you mad, and never got one back. You assumed the worst, that he was gone without a trace like many other American soldiers.
He remembers the feeling of your kiss, holding you in one arm and an ice cream cone in the other. It would melt down his fingers in a sugary mess, the heat of July getting to it while he was too busy tasting your lips instead.
“Bucky! You’re gonna have to buy another one,” you giggled.
“No worries, doll.”
Joy, that’s what you were to him. He’d give anything to see you again. It was betrayal, being alive for all those years and never coming back for you. Maybe it was for the better, and you would’ve hated him if he did. His skin wasn’t soft anymore, he didn’t find himself charming like he once was, and the arm he used to hold you in was gone.
I don’t know if it would’ve been a mistake to come back, I’m sorry.
You were one of the few things that hadn’t slipped from his memory, lost in translation. They were never able to completely remove you from his mind, no matter how robotic they tried to make him.
It was fuzzy, the blurred images of this beautiful girl Bucky once knew. He didn’t know if you were real until Steve told him you were.
Now the scenes in his head are more vivid, and he can hear your voice whenever he closes his eyes.
“Meet me here next weekend?”
He always met you, wherever you asked. The only place he never made it was back home from Europe.
She moved away, that’s what Steve said. He had found records on you over seventy years after Bucky fell off the train. The thing Steve was too scared to say was that you were gone.
Holding hands on the boardwalk, stealing kisses under the stars, and you always smelled like cotton candy. You told him not to go to war, that you could both run away and he could just stay.
Bucky wouldn’t do that, you weren’t foolish enough to think he would. It was simply a fantasy.
Sometimes I wish I would’ve listened to you.
Too busy fighting the bad guys, that’s how Bucky and Steve always were, and you couldn’t stop the war. He was shipped out, and he looked so handsome in his uniform. He always had a nice smile.
“Your eyes look like the ocean,” you didn’t know it would be the last time you held his hand in yours.
“Don’t miss ‘em too much while I’m gone,” he kissed your cheek goodbye.
You didn’t think it was goodbye forever. You had faith that he would make it out alive, safe, but when the letters weren’t returned and you heard nothing about him for years, life changed.
People move on, including you, no matter how painful it might’ve been.
This was the only way for him to reconnect with you. Maybe your spirit wandered around this place, maybe you were sitting on the bench next to him.
Hydra changed him first, and the heartache of realization changed him second. Waking up every day and realizing that his left arm was still made of vibranium, he never had a choice, and he was alone in the modern world.
I look in the mirror, and sometimes I feel like a part of me is still missing.
You were his sunshine. Everything was so picturesque with you in it, staring at the city skyline at the end of the night. You’d draw your name next to Bucky’s in the powdery sand with your fingers, and let the tide peacefully wash it away.
In another life, he’s with you, happily together. Picket-fences aren’t exactly Bucky Barnes’ style nowadays, but he likes to imagine it. Any life with you would’ve been perfect.
I miss you, I’ll always miss you.
Completely head over heels, dancing under Brooklyn streetlights and lost in each other. Young lovers, never planning on letting go of one another.
This is the closest he’ll get to a conversation with you again, alone on a bench in Coney Island, looking out at the moonlit waves of the sea. It feels like you’re here with him.
You know I love you.
The stars above Bucky sparkle, one much brighter than all the others. Perhaps it’s you.
I’ll love you forever, doll.
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lavender-fog · 2 days ago
Domestic blues
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Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader
Tw: cursing I think? just pure fluff, some implied smut at the end I guess but like not much haha
A/N: ah the domesticity ✨ Pinterest my beloved thank you for all the interior decorating inspirations!! also I’m a big advocate for mental health and I think everyone could benefit from a therapy session once in a while, I hope one day everyone will be able to get the care they deserve 💖
* * *
“I feel like we’re missing something,” you huffed as you dropped down on the new couch next to where Bucky was sitting. He wrapped his fingers around your ankle, pulling your legs over his lap.
“I don’t see what we’re missing, we got everything, right?” He started rubbing your feet, looking around your apartment to check if something was looking a bit off.
You had decided big renovations were in order, especially the living room. After buying the apartment, you had been a little cash strapped, so redecorating was out of the question. After saving up for a few while, you wanted to get rid of the beige walls, the weird carpet that had some suspicious looking stains in the corner and the god-awful curtains that were probably a relic from the ‘60s.
You had painted one of the walls a darker blue, painting the others white. Bucky had spotted a velvet couch in a home store that made you swoon and you spent a little bit too much money at a local plant nursery. The carpet had been ripped out - both wearing masks because you didn’t trust it for one bit - and new wooden floors had been installed, giving the apartment a rustic vibe.
Bucky had ordered some new curtains online - he discovered online shopping and now every few days a package showed up at your door - the white linen letting just enough light filter through, so the living room bathed in sunshine all day.
After a few Ikea runs, you had bought a new, dark oak tv stand, some throw pillows for your new couch and some cute pots for your plants. You had thrifted a carpet that would look amazing in your new reading nook and your book case was slowly filling up with books. Most of those books were yours at the moment, but Bucky had found an older copy of the Lord of The Rings franchise and some other classics that he claimed ‘were the real thing’.
“Please don’t say we need more plants, it already feels like I’m back in Wakanda,” you pouted at his reaction, knowing he was joking. He knew how much you loved your plants, because living in an apartment meant that you had no garden (except a small balcony) so you really wanted to bring nature inside.
“No, babe, I meant like something that is alive, you know,” you looked around the room, but when Bucky didn’t reply after a few seconds your gaze settled on the faux shocked expression plastered his face.
“If this is your way of telling me you’re pregnant, it sucks,” he tickled your feet and you giggled, lifting your feet out of his lap and laying your head in it instead.
“No, you dick, I meant like a pet or something,” your hand came up to his chin and you squished his cheeks. He groaned but made no effort to pull away and you ended up stroking his beard absentmindedly.
“Doll, we’re already running ourselves ragged, do you really think we have time to walk a dog everyday?”
“It doesn’t have to be a dog, Buck,” you pulled him down by the collar of his shirt, kissing the tip of his nose, “it has to be something low maintenance, like a snake or something. I don’t know.”
He scrunched his brows at that, a look of disgust set on his face, “A snake? Nope. No way. Not entering this house. I’m vetoing this decision right now.”
“Okay, what if we checked the websites of few shelters in the area to see what kind of animals they have, would that be good idea then?”
He bent over and nuzzled his nose against your cheek, taking a deep breath and nodding, “I mean it would be kinda nice to snuggle with something that doesn’t cling to me like a koala like you are.”
You gaped at him as he chuckled and lightly pushed you off him, so he could reach over and grab your laptop from the coffee table. You settled next to him, learning your chin on his shoulder as he opened the laptop and searched for nearby shelters.
“Hmm, what about this one?” You pointed at a shelter that was about 20 minutes away from your apartment.
“Let’s see,” he moved the cursor and accessed the website, “it says here they have dogs, cats and birds as well as bunnies.”
“Oh my god! Buck we should get a talking parrot or something! He would love all the plants here,” you dreamily said, already imagining a colorful bird flying around and lounging between your jungle-like plants.
“Birds are cool, but you always forget to close the balcony window,” he said as he side-eyed you and you nodded, a frown on your face.
“Okay, what if we just visited them this weekend and if we find an animal that both of us like and connect with we get it? And if we don’t connect with any of them, we just visit another place?” He proposed, closing the laptop and checking your face for a better reaction.
Your lips turned into a smile and you pressed a hard kiss to his cheek, “That’s a deal, Barnes.”
* * *
Your heart lurched when the volunteer opened the door towards the kennels and you saw all the animals that were waiting to get adopted. An older dog was lying down in the first kennel, his ears didn’t even perk up when you passed by.
Bucky laced his fingers with yours as he saw the forlorn expression on your face and he reminded you what the volunteer had said.
“Hey, she said they have 95% adoption rate, right? He’ll find a home soon enough,” he softly whispered and pressed a kiss to your temple.
You nodded and looked around at all the kennels. You had agreed committing to a dog would be too soon, you were just too busy with other stuff and you didn’t want to bring a dog into a household that didn’t have enough time for it.
You passed through the dog section and tried not to get distracted with their wagging tails and happy jumping around. Bucky lightly pulled on your hand when you stopped to scratch at a beagle’s head, hoping to avoid the potential heartbreak you would suffer when you would realize you couldn’t bring him home.
“These are the bunnies we have, we have them outside, but they can also be put in a kennel inside,” the volunteer mentioned as she opened the door to a little outside area, 7 bunnies happily hopping around.
You and Bucky crouched down on the ground, and a white bunny with brown patches immediately coming up to Bucky. It sniffled Bucky’s outstretched left hand for a second, before quickly hopping over to you. It snuggled it’s face in your outstretched palm, but your happiness subsided quickly when you watched Bucky stand up abruptly and put his left hand in his pocket.
You scratched the bunny behind it’s ear and stood up as well, wrapping your arm around Bucky’s elbow. You pressed a kiss to his scruffy cheek and turned to the volunteer.
“Do you have any cats?” You politely asked them. She nodded and you followed after her when she opened the door to another row of kennels. Bucky lingered behind a bit as you stepped in a kennel to play with some kittens.
He looked a bit uncomfortable, staring down at you and all the kittens that were surrounding you, jumping on your lap to get as much of your attention as they could get. You decided not to say anything yet, let him figure out what animal would fit him best.
The reason why you had brought up adopting a pet, was because on the days you were at work and Bucky wasn’t on a mission, you didn’t want him to be alone. He had been a lone wolf for the better part of his life, operating under the command of some type of psycho but always alone on a mission. When he had told you about what his life had been, you just wanted him to finally have a normal life, without the constant fighting and remembering what Hydra had done to him. So quickly after you had started dating, you asked him to move in together so you could always be there to soothe him whenever a nightmare made its way in his dreams or when he got anxious because of Steve leaving him. You felt that you wouldn’t always be able to help and when you talked about your relationship with Bucky with your own therapist, they had mentioned a pet would help with loneliness.
So you did some research online, trying to find the benefits of having a pet and any negatives. A pet apparently lowers anxiety, stress, depression, as well as ease loneliness and even though it would only be a tiny bandage on a shotgun wound, you wanted to make sure Bucky had every possible support system. Because when he smiled, you could smile as well. And when he was happy, you felt your heart fill with love because his smile meant the world to you.
His heavy boots stepped away from the kennel you were sitting in and you strained your ears to listen where he would end up.
Most kennels he walked by were young kittens, filled with energy and jumping and running around and just not matching his vibe.
His heavy boots finally stopped a few kennels further, and you leaned a bit backwards to check where he was standing. He was staring down at a white cat, whose blue eyes were staring right back up at him.
You quietly stood up and gave one of the kittens a final scratch on its head, before getting out of the kennel and sneaking up behind Bucky.
Meanwhile he had crouched down and was intently watching what the cat was doing. The white cat had now laid down, blue eyes still following Bucky’s movements meticulously, as if it was a predator trying to figure out what its prey was doing.
Bucky hesitantly reached out his right hand, letting it hover a little bit over the cat’s head, before finally touching its white hairs. The cat instantly purred and closed its eyes, basking in the warmth from Bucky’s hand.
A smile small pulled on his lips as the cat rolled onto its belly, begging for more scratches, not caring one bit when he used the vibranium hand instead.
“I think we might have a winner,” you whispered to the volunteer, your eyes never leaving the scene before you.
* * *
You had come home after work to find the living room and the kitchen abandoned. You were sure Bucky was at home, he had the day off and wanted to put the new bed frame together. Kicking off your shoes, you padded over to the bedroom. The door was ajar and when you pushed it open, you were met with the most heartwarming scene you could ever imagine.
Bucky was napping under a heap of blankets, lightly snoring, one arm hanging out of the bed. That was not the only thing that put a smile on your face; it was the cat that was sleeping almost on top of Bucky’s head, loudly purring as well, almost hidden between the white bedsheets and pillows.
Stifling a giggle, you got your phone out of your back pocket and snapped a quick picture of the two of them together as proof. Bucky would never admit to this, but you knew beforehand the ‘no cats on the bed’ rule wouldn’t last long. I mean, it had been a full 6 days, so you had at least tried.
You let your hand glide across the cat and he happily purred, stretching out his limbs and returning to the curled up position he was in before.
You let the cat enjoy lying between the soft pillows and the heat that was radiating off of Bucky as you pressed a string of kisses across his face.
He lightly groaned and slowly opened his eyes, wrapping the arm that was hanging off the bed around your waist.
“Hey sleepyhead,” you whispered against his cheek after you left a lingering kiss. You draped your body over his and hid your face in his neck, as he wound his arms tightly around your back.
“Hey,” he croaked and you felt the vibrations throughout your whole body.
“So, I’m gone for a few hours and you’re already sleeping with somebody else?” You giggled as he sighed deeply and rolled you over, so that he was now lying on top of you.
“He was on your lap this morning when you were on the computer,” he countered, lightly biting the soft skin on your neck.
He was about to pull your shirt over your face, when the cat wormed its way between the two of you, meowing and demanding attention.
Bucky scoffed but rolled off of you mumbling something along the lines of attention whore but with a lopsided grin on his face.
“So, did’ya think of a name yet?” You whispered as you turned onto your side, staring into his blue eyes as you tangled your legs with his.
He brought his hand up to brush a few hairs out of your face and softly pressed a kiss on your lips. He timidly nodded before opening his mouth.
“Yeah, I think I might name him Alpine.”
* * *
Gimme some of that sweet feedback
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mossybank · 3 days ago
Pierced — P. M.
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The many piercings of Peter Maximoff
Warnings: smut, genital piercings
Peter Maximoff x GN!Reader
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Peter got his first piercing when he was fourteen, a single stud in his right-lobe...
He'd been estactic to get the piercing, saving up all his pocket money to get it and almost pussying out at the piercing shop.
Not having done research on the piercing he was getting, Peter soon learned upon returning to school that the right earlobe was 'the gay one'
He took the piercing out but it never healed over, sometimes he thinks of putting it back in but he lost the earring long ago
Upon turning nineteen, and hearing from a friend that the piercing made you a god at oral, Peter got his tongue pierced...
The first few days of getting the piercing done were hell, a swollen tongue and diet limited to prevent any risks Peter almost regretted getting it done, especially when the piercer told him he would be able to kiss or go down on anyone for at least a week
But lo, Peter persevered and he couldn't have be happier (nor could you)
He already had the added advantage of a vibrating tongue for oral sex, and his tongue piercing just enhanced that, the cool metal vibrating with his tongue against your sex being a feeling you'd never forget
On your two year anniversary, you and Peter got matching nipple piercings...
Peter already had sensitive nipples, so him having them pierced definitely enhanced that
He would love it when you played with his nipples, sucking on them, for you to take the piercing between your teeth and tug it softly, God the way his head would be thrown back with a deep moan escaping his lips would be intoxicating
Honestly, he might of almost jizzed his pants when you did that for the first time
You've also experimented with a vibrator against them which was well received, Peter won't tell you this but when he plays with himself he vibrates his own fingers to stimulate his nipples
Though flipped up the majority of the time, Peter has a septum piercing...
He got the piercing whilst drunk as a dare but despite that it suits him so well
It's just a silver barbell but it honestly does so much for him... Pretty boy
The newest piercing Peter is sporting is a Prince Albert...
The piercing benefits both him and you which is a total plus
The two of you also found out that if you hum whilst sucking Peter off, specifically where the piercing is, it's able to vibrate his penis
The fact that you managed to make that happen instead of him using his powers was definitely a total turn on for him
The piecing added a new stimulation for you when you first fucked once the piercing had healed and its probably in your top five for best (sexy) times with Peter
Frenum piercings interest Peter but he is yet to get any...
Peter is very intrigued by frenum piercings, specially a Jacob's ladder, but is yet to get any
Perhaps it's due to time, he imagines you can only get one frenum at once when aiming for a ladder, unless you're really hardcore, and the cost of that must definitely add up!
Either way, that doesn't stop Peter from daydreaming about what sex would be like if he got it done...
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imaginemegood · 3 days ago
chilly - baron zemo
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pairing: reader x zemo
summary: when he lets you borrow his jacket heart eyes
warnings: nothing :)
a/n: inspired by those posts that say ‘yeah he’s a villain but he’d give me his jacket if i was cold’
date published: O5 may 2O21
You wrapped your arms around your torso in an effort to maintain some kind of warmth. The skimpy little outfit you had decided to wear was not helping, and you were mentally cursing yourself for picking it out. You looked hot in the hotel room, but you were sure you looked the furthest thing from sexy shivering with goosebumps across your skin. There was a harsh chill in Madripoor that you had not anticipated and you were severely regretting it.
You looked over at your colleagues, and couldn’t help but feel envious at their choices of clothing. Especially Zemo. His long jacket with the fur lining looked like heaven on Earth to you right now. He turned and caught your eye, and you looked away sharply. You felt a heat rise to your chest and face. Zemo’s gaze was always intense, and it seemed to stir something in you. But you had to remain professional. He was helping you find information on the Flag Smashers and then you’d be finished with him. You could surely handle yourself until then.
Another harsh, chilling breeze whipped down the street that caused you to gasp as your hair flew in front of your eyes. “You okay?” Sam asked, turning to look at you as you tried to put everything back into place. You nodded, rubbing at the gooseflesh across your arm. You didn’t want to ask for help, you should have known to bring jacket at least. Zemo’s vision lingered on your shivering from. You could feel his eyes burning holes into the side of your head, and with a surge of confidence you turn to look at him. Wordlessly, he maneuvered and removed his jacket before offering it out to you with an outstretched arm. You were about to protest, but before you could he remarked “don’t argue, you look cold”. You don’t know if it was the way he commanded you or his tone of voice, but you weren’t inclined to say no. You sighed, biting your lip you took the coat from the Baron and slipped it over your shoulders.
It was warm enough, but the added residual body heat made it heavenly. You clutched the fabric close to your chest and smiled as you basked in the sensation of the fur against your skin. Zemo smiled to himself, adjusting the collar and letting his fingers brush against your neck. “It suits you” he said in a low voice, not allowing you to reply as he walked in front of the group, leading you to a nightclub.
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mahvericks · 4 days ago
thank you // wanda maximoff
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For anon
Prompt; “ I don’t think I can do this without you ”
Warnings; panic attack, mention of Pietro’s death, light swearing. This one got really personal rip.
This is the last prompt I had, now I’ll be writing the other requests I received since that writing prompts list and will also write older requests, feel free to send new ones in! <3
Hiding your feelings were something you were used to, you had been taught to do so from your young age as your parents were both Shield agents, they wanted to protect you and prepare you for how hard and cruel the world was.
Following in your parents steps, when you were ready, you joined the Shield and over the years became one of their best and most skilled agent. When the Avengers Initiative was created, you were asked to join them not long after Natasha and Clint had joined the team.
You had seen a lot and faced huge threats like an army of aliens, monsters- you had seen it all and together, you won against everything and everyone. But that, that was something else. Something even more twisted, a new kind of evil you never met before. Ultron.
When it happened, when you saw Sokovia being detached from earth, you helped the people getting on the Shield Helicarrier, you fought against Ultron and his army of robots, you gave everything you had to fight back.
But this time, the cost of winning was bigger than everything else before, there were so many lives you couldn’t save, so many wasted lives. And it had been haunting you ever since that day.
Whenever it was when you heard a loud noise such as someone knocking a plate on the ground or a door being slammed- it was enough for you to get flashes from the fight or in the worst cases, you’d see yourself on the helicarrier when Sokovia dropped back to the ground.
Yet, it was nothing compared to the nightmares you’d get almost every nights- that’s why you’d sleep as less as you could, you’d rather just take naps a few times than have a true night of sleep where everything would come back to the surface and make you feel even worse.
You never talked about it ever since it happened, or if in the very rare cases where the Sokovia Incident would be mentioned you’d stay silent and listen to the others speaking. You were pretty sure that no one knew about your trauma from that day and how it was still haunting you to this day.
The only one who seemed to understand you was Wanda, and while you never talked about how you felt- there was some kind of connections between the two of you- you understood each other.
Just like any other night, you were brutally pulled away from sleep by the same nightmare again and it was just as real as every night. It was incredibly frustrating, especially the state you were when you woke up- it was always the same, your body was tense and shaky, your heart was beating fast and your breathing was laborated.
Knowing you weren’t going to go back to sleep now, you pulled the blanket away and sat at the edge of the bed, looking at the hour you sighed- you barely got two hours of sleep.
Quietly, you went out of your bedroom and made your way to the kitchen to get yourself a glass of cold water- it helped to get your body out of the trance of the nightmare. You hated how weak your body was feeling when you’d wake up from a nightmare.
With your glass of water in hands, you leaned against the kitchen’s counter to sip your water. Your eyes lost in the darkness of the night, you tried your best to empty your mind, to not think at all, it rarely worked as you’d always go back to thinking about too many things- how you could have saved more lives that day, hell if you had been more attentive you would have noticed that little boy sooner and it maybe would have prevented Pietro’s death.
You tightly closed your eyes as a tear escaped your eyes- the flashes of that scene were coming back to haunt you. For a second or so you lost focus of everything and it was enough for you to loosen the grip you had on the glass of water that fell on the floor shattering into millions of pieces. Now you had made a mess and might even woke your friends up.
The sound of the glass shattering was enough to trigger you into another panic attack- you realized that when you started to feel your heart thumping and you could hear your blood passing through your ears.
Covering your ears in an unsuccessful attempt to stop earring that sound, you let yourself slip against the kitchen’s counter. You hated how hot it suddenly seemed to be in the room, it felt so warm that your trembling hands were already sweaty.
You were aware of the fact you were right in the middle of a panic attack, but you also knew you couldn’t do anything to make it stops. You were all alone against this. But when did you not feel alone?
“ y/n? ” asked Wanda who had been awaken by the sound of the glass of water falling. She knew it was you as she noticed the door of your bedroom was open- you never left it open when you were asleep.
“ I saw your bedroom’s door open, I know- ” Wanda stopped halfway through her sentence when she saw you shakily hugging your knees as you were sitting on the floor- your mind seemed to be elsewhere just as if while physically being there, your mind was far away.
Wanda kneeled right next to you, not caring about the shattered glass scattered on the floor. She wanted to help you, and while she had read about panic attacks, she never experienced someone having one next to her.
She wanted to tell you that it was going to be alright but she knew that it was useless, even stupid to say that as you clearly weren’t alright. That’s not what you needed to hear.
Instead, she gently put her hand on your forearm to make sure you were aware of her presence, that you knew you weren’t alone- that she was there for you.
“ I’m here with you y/n. You’re not alone. ” she gently said, hoping that her presence wouldn’t make it worse to you.
Your mind was racing, having so many thoughts at the same time, mixing and messing everything together to the point that it was making your head aches, but hearing Wanda’s voice was unexplainably comforting.
“ I don’t know if this is going to help you but try to focus on my breathing, alright sweetheart? ”
Sweetheart. You loved it when she used to call you by this nickname. It was a classic one but still lovely.
“ Breathe in,” said Wanda as she slowing inhaled air- you tried your best to copy her but not without struggling first.
“ and breathe out.” she continued, this time exhaling just as slowly as before.
This went on for minutes that seemed to be hours for you, but thankfully, with Wanda’s help you managed to calm yourself down, especially when you managed to copy Wanda’s breathing pattern.
“ Thanks. ” you weakly said, your eyes fixing your hands resting on your knees- you didn’t, couldn’t look at Wanda. No one knew about this side of you and you felt ashamed.
“ No need to thanks me. You did it all by yourself sweetheart. You did great. ” you couldn’t help but scoff, you were the one triggering yourself and you did great?
“ If only I didn’t trigger myself. God I’m so pathetic.” you sighed, rubbing your hands on your face.
“ Why would you say that, y/n? ” asked Wanda, not understand why would you think that.
“ Look at me Wan’. I’m a fucking mess. ” you deeply sighed, you were so tired- not only because your panic attack drained all strength from you but you were also tired of this way of living.
“ You’re not a mess, y/n/n. You’re dealing with a lot and it’s hurting you but you’re not a mess. And I want you to know that you’re not alone. ” gently said Wanda, as she wrapped her arm around your shoulders.
At first, you stiffened a bit, you didn’t except any physical contact even if you had been getting used to it with Wanda. After a few seconds, you relaxed and leaned against her, resting your head on her shoulder.
“ I don’t want to be a burden to you- or to anyone as a matter of fact. ” you whispered so lowly that you weren’t sure that Wanda heard you.
“ You’re not a burden to me and never will be. I think I can speak for the others on this and say that you’ll never be a burden for them neither. We’re here for you, and I for sure always will be there for you. ” you closed your eyes to listen to Wanda’s words- she definitely knew how to talk to you.
“ Why are you doing this? ”
“ Ever since that day when I lost Pietro, you’ve always been there for me without asking anything in return- you were the first one to give me a chance to prove myself and I think I’ve started to fall for you. ” acknowledged Wanda, she didn’t except to tell you about her feelings for you but it slipped so naturally.
“ I like you, too. And I never intended to get anything in return every time I was here for you. ” you smiled, which was something that became incredibly rare since the Sokovia incident.
“ I know. But I want to be there for you. ”
“ Thank you. ” you knew that you couldn’t keep Wanda from trying to help you, and after all maybe it would get better with her help.
A comfortable silence fell on the two of you as neither of you wanted to move, but the exhaustion was starting to get the best of you. You didn’t want to sleep and get another nightmare- you had to fight back the exhaustion and sleepiness.
“ You’re exhausted, zolotse,” noticed Wanda, there was no point on trying to hide your tiredness as it was probably easy to tell it, you nodded as an answer, “ give me two minutes to clean the broken glass and I’ll accompany you back to your room.” gently said Wanda as she got up to clean the kitchen’s floor.
“ I can’t go to sleep.” you sighed, you never excepted to reveal so much of you in one night, yet here you were.
“ Why? ” frowned Wanda.
“ I get nightmares,” you revealed before pausing for a few seconds, “ I get a lot of them. ”
“ Is that the reason why you were awake? ”
“ Yeah. That’s kind of the reason I had a panic attack. And I don’t want that to happen again. ” you sadly explained, Wanda seemed to feel bad for you-at least that’s what you could see in her eyes.
“ I understand, I get nightmares too sometimes. It’s hard to go back to sleep after. I won’t force you to rest but would it help if I stay with you until you wake up again? ” suggested Wanda, and while the idea sounded great, to have someone with you in case you had another nightmare, you didn’t want to bother Wanda.
“ You would do that? I don’t want to bother you. ”
“ If I suggest it, then it doesn’t bother me. I’d be happy if it can help you even just a little.” smiled Wanda. You were too exhausted to think about it that much, so you ended up agreeing.
“ I guess it’s worth a shot. ”
Wanda seemed to be pleased with your answer and proceeded to the cleaning on the shattered pieces of the glass of water. You couldn’t help but feel bad for letting her clean when you were the one who created this mess in the first place.
“ Alright, everything’s clean. Let’s go to bed. ” said Wanda as she accompanied you to your bedroom.
“ I don’t think I can do this without you. ” you lowly said as you basically let yourself fall on your bed.
“ What do you mean? ”
“ Like going back to sleep, dealing with panic attacks and all that stuff. I kept it for myself for all this time but I think it helped to talk about it. ” you confessed- it felt like a weight had been lifted from your shoulders now that someone knew about it.
“ As I said earlier, I’ll always be there for you- that means I’m here to listen to you too. When you feel ready, you can tell me about your nightmares, or about anything else you feel the need to talk about. You’re not alone, zolotse. ”
You couldn’t explain why but Wanda’s words put you at ease- enough for you to relax and close your eyes to try and sleep.
“ Thank you. ”
121 notes · View notes
strawwrites · 4 days ago
Bruce Banner x Female!Stark Employee!Reader: Humanity
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Summary: Sometimes you have to give it to yourself.
Rating/Warnings: T (sexual references)
Notes:  I could have sworn I posted this already, but I couldn’t find it anywhere on Tumblr. My apologies if this is somehow a duplicate.
Can you guess who my favorite Avenger was circa 2012?
On your list of things you’d never expected to do were many, many things. Ending up working for a superhero, for instance. Seeing as how this had come true, it shouldn’t have come as such a shock that another on your list did. Namely, riding up one of Stark Tower’s elevators, with your boss, wearing what you could only describe as bright red lingerie.
“Mr. Stark, I’m not sure about this.”
They were the first words you had spoken since he had arrived at your room an hour earlier with the clothing in tow. Complete silence, all through Tony’s explanation of why this was necessary, his whistle of appreciation when you stepped out of the bathroom in said lingerie, and his resulting herding of you into the elevator.
Needless to say, he didn’t seem surprised that it had taken you this long to react. “Not so sure about what, exactly?” was all he had to say in response.
"Well,” you said weakly, as you fingered the top of one of your stockings, “this doesn’t really seem like something I would have to do for my job.”
Tony stared at you, mouth pressed upward into a cynical smile. “Did I offer to pay you, [Name]?”
“No,” you mumbled. Though you had no idea why he would ask you to do this otherwise.
“Exactly. After all, I would think one night of wanton passion with the man of your dreams would be enough of a payoff for you.” These words caused you to turn almost as red as your ‘dress.’ Catching this, Tony rolled his eyes. “Come on. You two have been dating for what, a year? Year and a half? And still nothing?”
“He isn’t exactly…” You trailed off, cheeks still burning, your eyes focused on the glass floor. Good thing it was nearly 11 PM and all the regular employees weren’t there to ogle your lower body parts.
“Trust me,” Tony said as he checked the time on his cell phone. “You need this. You both need this.”
“I really, really think you’re wrong, Mr. Stark.” A sharp glance in your direction had you flailing to explain yourself. “It’s just that–I’m okay with it! Really! I understand him not really wanting to do that kind of thing.”
“[Name], he wants to ‘do that kind of thing.’ Or at least he will, once he sees you in that get up.” He fingered one the straps on your shoulder. “I am really good at picking these out, don’t you think?”
You tried to ignore that. After all, he was dating Pepper. Still, it wasn’t much comfort to hear him talking about you like some sort of scientific project he’d succeeded with.
“How do you know?”
“In case you haven’t noticed, [Name]–and you’d be quite dense if you hadn’t and I might have to fire you–I am a man. And even if I wasn’t, I know everything, so I would still know what I’m talking about. So, what should you do?”
You took a deep breath and gave him the answer he wanted, even if it wasn’t necessarily the answer you wanted to give. “Trust you.”
“Trust me!” Tony looked you in the eyes until you gave him an uncertain nod. He nodded back, then shifted his focus to the elevator buttons. “And it looks like this…is your stop. Feel free to use the room up there, by the way. Pepper and I have other plans for the night.”
“Wait, but!” He thought you actually wanted to go through with this? The elevator pulled to a smooth and silent stop. Your heart nearly exploded in your chest as the doors opened in similarly soundless fashion.
You did not step out. Instead, you turned back to Tony to whisper, “Are you sure this will be okay? Aren’t Thursdays reserved for you guys doing your science boyfriends thing?”
“Already cleared it,” Tony hissed and made a shooing motion. “Now go.” Before you could protest again, your boss pushed you out the door. You tripped over the ridiculous heels he had put you in and only looked up in time to see him smirking and waving as the elevator doors slid shut.
‘Great,’ you thought as you pushed yourself to your feet. He’d probably programmed the elevator so it wouldn’t come back and get you until after a suitable amount of time had passed. You were so asking for a raise come Monday.
“Hey. I thought you said you weren’t going to make it.”
A voice drifted from the other side of the gleaming, silver-white laboratory that took up the entire floor. You sucked in a breath and slowly turned. There, with his back toward you, was a very familiar dark-haired scientist. He’d been expecting you? That hadn’t been explained.
“You said there was a romantic emergency, right?” he continued with his back still turned. “Did you straighten everything out with Pepper?”
“Pepper?” you asked.
Bruce stopped fiddling with whatever was on the table. There was split second of silence before he turned around.
“Oh,” he said as he recognized that you were not, in fact, Tony Stark. Then his eyes widened. “Oh.”
Not exactly the reaction Tony had been hoping for, you expected. Not to mention that it wasn’t much of a confidence booster. Rather than looking halfway interested in you, Bruce looked nervous. You tried to smile but could feel that the expression came out jittery.
“Um, hey,” you finally managed to say.
Bruce’s eyes shifted away, toward the blinking monitors above his work station, then back to you. He focused on your eyes–only your eyes.
“Hey,” he said at last. “What are you–I didn’t think I’d see you tonight.”
“Y-Yeah. It’s science night, right? I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
“No, no.” Bruce twiddled with one side of his glasses, then turned back to his work. “Tony put you up to this, didn’t he?”
Your heart was fluttering like a hummingbird in your chest. You couldn’t remember feeling this embarrassed ever before. What was worse, you were embarrassing Bruce, too, something you knew he wouldn’t appreciate. When you spoke again, your throat tightened around your words. “How did you know?”
Amazingly, he chuckled, though he still didn’t look at you. “He would pick that color.”
Bruce poked at one of the holographic screens and continued in a would-be-casual tone, “To what do I owe the occasion?”
“N-No occasion,” you stammered. You didn’t know what to think–was it good that he wasn’t looking at you so you wouldn’t have to go through with this? Or was it simply bad that he wasn’t looking at you?
Several minutes passed as you watched him work, feeling yourself sweat in your ‘outfit,’ even though Tony kept the lab area very cool. Bruce didn’t say a single word. In fact, he seemed quite determined to ignore you entirely.
“Yes?” He turned his head halfway toward you, his eyes again roving around the windows and skittering away from you every time you came in range. Since this was doing neither of you any good, you decided to step forward.
“Is something wrong?”
“No,” he hastened to assure you, then went back to fiddling with the things on his table. “Nothing. I just didn’t expect–you should probably go to bed. It’s getting late. Tony won’t like it if you start showing up late to work. Even if he’s late 90 percent of the time.”
“More than that. Besides, the elevator won’t come. You know he’ll have programmed it like that.”
“Oh, well, you can just–”
“You never touch me.”
“What?” That got Bruce’s attention. He looked straight at you, mouth slightly agape. “I–We touch.”
“Holding my hand every other month doesn’t count.”
Bruce opened his mouth, looked away, closed it again, and frowned. “I thought you understood. We can’t do things like that. The Other Guy might not like it and then I’d do something we’d both regret.”
In a forward act that surprised even you, you touched his arm. Bruce stiffened, but at least looked back at you. “We’ve been going out for nearly a year and a half. Can’t we at least try?”
He shook his head. “I don’t think that would be advisable.”
“Please?” you asked, standing on your toes and drawing closer to his face. “I trust you.”
“It’s not a matter of trust, [Name]. I love you. I’d rather not make any more of my loved ones run away–or die.”
“I love you, too,” you said, choosing to ignore that last part. “It’s just that, sometimes, it would be nice to show you instead saying it all the time.”
“Hold still.” You weren’t sure why you said it. Maybe Tony had put some sort of science-y words nano-bots or chemicals in your clothing that were making you act like this. If so, you’d definitely be telling Pepper and he’d definitely be getting a lecture from her. For now, though, your words did the trick. Bruce held still. You held his gaze for a moment longer, then pressed your lips against his.
He didn’t kiss back. As far as kisses went, it was a pretty disappointing one. Mostly Bruce just stood there, allowing you to hold your lips where they were until you broke away. Your eyes locked again.
“Mr. Stark thinks you’re human. I think you’re human. Sometimes you have to treat yourself like a human, too.”
Bruce nodded, but still didn’t move much. Did you have to tell him it was okay to do so again? You probably had as much experience in these matters as he did–less, according to Tony. After several more seconds passed like that, you sighed and took a step away.
“I’m not saying we have to do anything drastic. I just–” You shifted uncomfortably and felt your blush return. Now that that was over, you were back to feeling out of place and awkward. “I love you. And I’d like to kiss you sometimes or…or even get kissed sometimes. But I know that’s not really in your comfort zone and all that.”
“It could be,” he answered slowly, “in my comfort zone.”
Bruce took a very deep breath, put his tool back onto the table, and stepped toward you. He looked as unsure of himself as you felt, but said:
“Kiss me again.”
“What?” you asked.
“Kiss me again, [Name].”
For some strange reason, this was more embarrassing than doing it without having been asked. Still, after having come right out and said you wanted a more physical relationship, you couldn’t exactly back out now. You stood on your toes and lightly pressed your lips against his. You expected more of the first kiss, but it took only half a second for Bruce to pull you closer to him.
This was better. Instead of standing there, his lips worked around you own. You let your eyes drift shut so that you could more properly enjoy the sensation of being so close to your boyfriend. Maybe Tony was right–maybe you did need this.
A little too quickly for your tastes, Bruce pulled away. Your eyes fluttered open to see him standing with his eyes closed. You held your breath, but he soon opened his eyes and flashed you a smile.
“All clear?” you asked. He nodded.
“At least for now, anyway.”
“Great!” You beamed. “Well, it’s getting late, so I’ll let you go.”
“Right. Good night, [Name].”
You waved. “Good night, Bruce. Love you.”
“Love you, too.”
You smiled and blushed again but skipped back to the elevator. The down button lit up under your touch and, sure enough, the elevator arrived shortly. You stepped inside, already formulating plans to get in your normal pajamas as soon as you could. You hit the button for the floor the rest of the employees that stayed at the company lived and looked up to smile once more in Bruce’s direction.
Only to see him already in the elevator with you. The doors closed before either of you could spare another word. Unsure of what to say, you simply said nothing. Bruce broke the silence himself this time.
“I haven’t done that with anyone since–since the Other Guy came along.”
Bruce nodded, a little quickly. You were on the brink of asking him if he had changed his mind about that kiss being okay after all when he answered the question for you–by latching his lips onto yours. Surprised, it took you a moment to respond. By the time you had, his tongue was brushing gently at your bottom lip.
You hesitated, but only for a brief moment before opening your mouth. Bruce’s tongue slipped inside as he took your hips and pulled you closer to him. You moaned quietly as it very softly probed your own. You focused on the feeling, smashing your hands into fists to keep yourself from pushing things farther than you should. You trusted Bruce and this at least seemed like he trusted himself, but you didn’t want to force him anywhere he didn’t want to be.
When he pulled away, you found yourself a bit breathless. You still managed to ask, “What are you doing?”
Bruce looked you in the eyes as he brushed some hair from your face. The contact sent small shocks of heat through your body.
“Treating myself like a human.”
He leaned in and brushed his lips across your jawline. You bit your lip and curled your hands into themselves harder.
“And you do look good in that getup. Even if that isn’t the color I would have picked.”
Your chuckle came out as more of a squeak. This made Bruce look at your lips again. Without you even really noticing how it happened, you were kissing again, harder and faster than before. Bruce was pushing you up against the elevator wall, one hand resting on your hip. You squeaked again and this time his lips found your neck.
“What?” he asked as he licked his lips. He didn’t look out of breath, but you certainly felt it. “I thought you wanted to get kissed.”
“I do,” you said. “But I don’t want you to feel like you have to kiss me.”
Bruce smiled. He lifted his hand to cup your face and brushed his thumb across your cheek. Then, he leaned in and whispered in your ear:
“Sometimes, I want you to kiss me, too.”
This time, you laughed. Bruce watched you for a moment, then laughed, too. Before he could finish, you kissed him again, and this time, you dug your fingers into his hair. He didn’t moan, but he did arrange his arms so that they kept you pinned to the glass. In response, you pressed your hips against his. That did get something of a moan, if only a quiet one. Maybe Tony’s choice in attire hadn’t been as bad as you had thought.
Neither of you noticed the elevator had reached its destination until the clapping began. Startled, you looked up, breaking the kiss. Bruce himself merely shifted away to get a better look. Sure enough, Tony was standing right outside, grinning like someone who had just won a Noble Prize.
“Wonderful! Wonderful show! Good job, both of you.” You could feel yourself turning redder and redder. A quick glance in the elevator wall showed your hair was mussed up and your lingerie had been rumpled past the point of decency. Tony raised his eyebrows and pointed at Bruce. “You owe me dinner, thank you very much. You,” he pointed at you and frowned. “…You owe me dinner, too. Or at least a day of work where I don’t pay you.”
“Tony–” Bruce began.
“No.” Tony raised both his hands and began to walk toward the hall. “No need to thank me. You’re welcome.”
With that, he was gone. Bruce sighed.
“I’m sorry,” you offered. He sighed again but looked toward you with a smile.
“Don’t be. We should have done that a long time ago. Now,” he stood up straight and stepped toward the doors. After peering out into the darkened hallway, he turned back to you and held out his hand, “should I walk you home?”
“That would be wonderful,” you said, and took his hand.
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blindingdutchy · 4 days ago
lamentation | THREE
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{peter parker x fem!reader AU}
based on All the Bright Places by Jennifer Niven
word count: 3,310
warnings: depression, anxiety, grief, mental illness! descriptions of injury/blood/gore! angst
18+!!! minors stay away!
Peter Parker: are you okay??
Peter Parker: (Y/N)?
Peter Parker: why aren't you at school? please tell me you're okay
You shut your phone off and buried your head under your pillow again, wishing for nothing more than to go back to sleep and escape life completely. All weekend long, and especially all morning, your phone had been ringing non stop with texts from Peter Parker. As much as you wished you could say you hadn't read them, you had.
You'd read them all almost as soon as you'd received them, but you just couldn't bring yourself to respond. You didn't need friends. You didn't want friends. Peter Parker was not your friend, and you were determined to keep it that way. No matter how hard he tried to force himself into your life, you were not going to let him in; you couldn't.
You couldn't let him in and risk getting hurt again, and today was yet another painful reminder of why. It was her birthday. At least, it would have been if she weren't dead. If you hadn't put her in the wrong place at the right time, ending her life and ruining yours forever.
For one tiny moment after you woke up, one minuscule fraction of a second, you forgot the importance of the day. You forgot what made the day different, and you forgot that your sister was dead. Or, rather, did you forget you ever had a sister at all? Had--that was the word that made you weep.
That fleeting moment of ignorance was the exact reason why it should have been you and not her. Surely, she never would have forgotten your birthday, or you, or your absence. She never would have looked at the date and even hesitated in remembering what the significance was. Always the better sister, the better person, the one who deserved it all.
Since that moment you had not left your bed, and Peter's latest slew of texts forced you to look at the time and acknowledge that hours had passed. It was lunch time, hours and hours since you'd awoken, and you had not moved even an inch. Everything felt too heavy.
The air felt too thick, gravity too strong, your body made of stone; you wondered if you were even able to move. Of course, you had shut your phone off so clearly you could move, but you didn't want to. It was so hard, so unbelievably hard to move. Why did everything have to be so tough?
As you laid there, staring at the blackened void of the backs of your eyelids because you just couldn't shut your mind off, your thoughts wandered through all the darkest places. Would she have been ashamed to see you like this? Would she have been disgusted with how you were acting, the person you had become?
God, why couldn't you just shut it off? Why couldn't you just make it all stop? That was all you wanted anymore. You wanted the thoughts, the feelings, the memories, everything, to just go away. You wanted to just exist in the empty void that only came about when you were sleeping. The space where your senses were gone and it was just you.
Or, maybe, you didn't want to exist at all. That wasn't to say that you wanted to die, even though you did, but rather that you just wanted to cease to exist. You wanted to never be, to never have been. It was complex thought that was equally as heavy and taxing to ponder.
Would that have made a difference? Would she have lived if you had never been around, never been alive, to lead her down all the paths that lead to that moment? If you hadn't existed, she wouldn't have been in the park at that perfect moment. If she, by some mystical force, had been there anyways, she wouldn't have lingered behind to save you.
Everyone's lives would have been so much better without you. Your parents wouldn't have had to work so much to afford everything for you and your sister. Your grandma might have lived longer, not having to exert herself so much to watch after the troublesome child that you had been. Maybe the butterfly effect of your lack of existence would have reached so far that the world would generally be a better place, too.
You barked a laugh at the thought, your voice hoarse from dehydration and lack of use. How pathetic it was of you to think you had so much of an impact! You surely were not so important that you changed that much about the world.
"(Y/N), honey?"
The world got a little heavier at the sound of your door creaking open and your mother's soft, hesitant voice. When you didn't respond, nor even move a muscle, she sighed, "(Y/N), you need to eat. I made some soup, I'll even bring it up to you if you want."
Despite the fact that you didn't feel hungry in even the slightest capacity, your stomach rumbled loudly at the mention of food. "Okay." you whispered, and when the door clicked shut again the silence was overwhelming.
She would have been so disappointed in you. You knew just how much you worried your parents with every passing day, and as much as you wanted to be better and make them feel better, you just couldn't bring yourself to care. You couldn't bring yourself to care about your wellbeing or how all the things you were doing, or not doing, affected your parents.
Caring wasn't easy anymore, and it felt foreign. You were so bogged down under all the baggage on your back, on your shoulders, and on your head that you couldn't expend any of the energy required to do so. If you did, if you tried, you'd surely have collapsed under the weight.
Your mother came back and left once more just as quickly, sighing quietly as she tried and failed to rouse you from your bed. You'd remained silent through the creak of the door, the soft clatter of the bowl and spoon being placed on your nightstand, her soft breathes of disappointment, and the click of the latch as she left again. You even held your breathe, so immersed in listening to all her little noises that you forgot about the air you needed to live.
When your mother returned to your room later that day, though it felt like seconds for you, she ripped the blankets from your body and blinked down at you tearfully. "You didn't eat." she stated simply, gesturing to the still full bowl of soup that was now ice cold.
You blinked back, though the tears in your eyes were due to the sudden burn of being open rather than emotion. The numbness had creeped in at some point during the day, and you couldn't feel a thing aside from empty. She waited there for a long, pregnant moment for you to respond, but you had no words.
What were you meant to say? You could hear your sister's voice scolding you for ignoring her, but you just couldn't think of the right thing to say anymore. "Get up, (Y/N). Dinner is getting cold and you're going to eat with us, even if I have to drag you out of this bed myself." your mother finally demanded.
Weakly, you clambered out of your bed and followed her downstairs. She tried to hide it, probably for your sake, but you could see the pleased smile on her face as she finally got you out of your bed. You wondered what it felt like to smile anymore. Could you smile anymore? You'd tried a few times, but it always felt awkward and forced and never looked quite right.
"She lives!"
You grimaced, your version of a smile, at your father's bland attempt at humor that earned a warning glare from your mother. Yes, you lived, and that was the problem. You didn't want to. You shouldn't have. It should have been her coming down to dinner to celebrate her birthday, not you trudging to the table to try and ignore the party that should have been taking place.
She would have been nineteen. Would she have liked college? Would she have found a cute college boy to date, maybe have brought him home to meet the family on her birthday? Your mother made her favorite food, a family recipe, and you pretended you didn't notice.
It didn't taste as good without her around to gush over it in anticipation. You'd never been much of a fan in the first place, but as a little sister it was your duty to love everything your big sister did. Food included, and you'd eagerly sucked down that casserole for years and claimed it was your favorite too.
"I'll be right back, don't go anywhere!" your mother announced, wiping her hands on a napkin as you choked down the last pea on your plate.
When she returned a few moments later with a large chocolate cake in her hands, a cold sweat blossomed over your body and you stiffened. "What's that?" you demanded, staring wide eyed at the all-too-familiar cake incredulously.
It was a rhetorical question. You knew exactly what it was, but you were horrified to see it. She'd made her famous chocolate cake, the same cake she'd made every year for your sister's birthday because, like the casserole, it too was her favorite.
Was this some kind of sick joke? Why did she make a cake? Your sister was gone, and there was nothing to celebrate. If anything you wished to still be hidden away under your blankets, moping and wishing for peace. Yet, here was your mother, placing the cake down on the table with a sheepish smile and watery eyes.
She stared at the cake, avoiding your eyes as she sniffed, "I just... I thought that maybe this would make it feel like she's still here. I just wanted a little bit of her to make the day a little less sad."
"She's not here, Mom." you snapped, "She's not here, and this isn't going to change that."
With a loud screech from your chair that scraped across the floor, you bolted away from the table and back to your room. God, why are you being so horrible? She's just trying her best, you don't have to be so hard on her... Your sister's voice echoed in your mind, rattling around your skull so hard you swore you could feel your teeth chatter.
She was right, and you knew it. You knew you were being unfair, cruel even, but you couldn't help it. You couldn't help the uncontrollable guilt that seeing all your sister's favorite foods brought creeping back over you. You couldn't help the bile that steadily rose up your throat at the thought of her, the sight of her ever-present empty chair.
You couldn't help any of it. The anger and guilt was too much to bear, especially as you heard your mother's choked sob echo from the dining room all the way to your bedroom. You'd done that. You'd made her cry with your selfish contempt. You were truly the worst.
Collapsing back onto your bed and burying yourself under your blankets, you smothered yourself with your pillow until it felt like your lungs were going to explode. The tears never came, though you wished for them desperately. You felt like crying, you wanted to cry, but you couldn't. You were all cried out once more.
A loud knock on your window startled you awake, and you blinked in surprise at the pitch darkness of your room. You couldn't remember falling asleep, but that was fairly typical anymore. When you don't dream, there's never really much to differentiate between wake and rest. It was always just like blinking your eyes--one moment it was one day, and the next it was another.
Time moved pretty strangely ever since the incident, you'd discovered. Sleep made time seem longer, more impactful, and without it the days all blurred together. Another knock caught your attention, followed by another, before there was a steady rapping at the glass pane that made you furrow your eyebrows.
You clicked the power button on your phone only to huff when you remembered you'd shut it off, and turned to face the window. A shadow passed before it and your heart stuttered frightfully. Another knock, another shadow, and you were surprised you hadn't peed your pants in fear. There was someone out there.
A head popped up over the windowsill, falling heavily against the glass with a loud bang that made you jump. "What the--Peter?" you gasped, your eyes slowly adjusting to the dim lighting until you could make out the familiar suit of Spiderman.
What the hell was Peter doing at your window, and why was he still dressed up in his stupid costume? Begrudgingly, yet secretly curious, you creeped out of your bed and opened the window with furrowed eyebrows. "Peter, what are you doing here?" you whispered, but he didn't respond.
Well, he didn't respond with words. He groaned, a strange gargled noise like he was trying to talk through a mouthful of water, and his head lolled to the side weakly. Prodding his shoulder, he nearly tumbled to the ground until you caught him awkwardly and strained to keep him upright. "P-please, help." he gasped.
Your heart was racing, and your mind was moving nearly as fast with a million questions. How the hell did Peter know where you lived? Why was he at your window? What was wrong with him? Why did he think you were the person to help him? Why, what, why, how, all the questions remained unanswered.
It was a great struggle to drag Peter through your window, a task that was done without much help from the surprisingly heavy boy who leaned nearly all of his weight onto you. You did it, though, and bit back a scream when you pulled your hands away to find them covered in blood. As you stared at the dark, red stains on your flesh, the smell of it hit you and your head was spinning.
Blood, and a lot of it. Immediately your mind brought you back to that fateful day, images of your sister's lifeless form flashing before your eyes and blurring the world around you. Your breathing grew shallower, and just as the tunnel vision started to encroach, Peter garbled, "Please, (Y/N), you need to help me."
He weakly slapped at his chest until his suit deflated like a balloon, peeling away from his body like a loose tarp that was easily pulled away from his skin. "Oh, my god!" you wailed. His body was riddled with cuts, scrapes, and bruises galore. You wondered if any of his skin remained unbroken, because everything was black, blue, and red.
For the first time in what felt like forever, your fight or flight switched gears to fight. You weren't entirely sure why, because you were crying and holding back vomit like your life depended on it, but you raced around your room to gather anything you could to staunch the bleeding. Every breathe you took overwhelmed you with the smell of blood, that familiar metallic scent of iron or pennies, but you couldn't breathe through your mouth.
If you opened your mouth, you were surely going to lose all the food you'd eaten for dinner. All you could think of was your sister. You thought of what she would have done, and you knew that you were making the right choice in helping him. She would never have left him to fend for himself. Most of all, though, you thought of your sister and how you hadn't stopped her from dying, and you couldn't do that again.
You couldn't let another person die as a result of your actions. You couldn't, and you wouldn't. So, you worked hard and fast through all your crying to patch Peter up as best as you could. Nothing needed stitches as far as you could tell, but nearly every inch of his skin was broken with some form of scrape, scratch, or cut.
It was messy, and by the time you finished you were pretty sure you had more of Peter's blood on your skin and clothes than he had on himself. He was asleep, or unconscious, you weren't entirely sure. What you were sure of, though, was that the sun was rising and he needed to leave. You needed him to get out, both for the sake of your mentality and your parents'.
So, you jabbed your fingers into his shoulder and hissed, "Wake up!"
He awoke frantically, his eyes snapping open and his body lurching upright as he looked around in a panic. "Get away--(Y/N)? What... What am I doing here? Where am I?" he stammered, slumping back onto the floor with a wince as he continued to scan his surroundings in confusion.
"You're in my bedroom, Parker, and I don't know why. You showed up covered in blood and begging for help." you grumbled in annoyance. "You need to go. It's almost morning."
He blinked in surprise, glancing out your window to see the early hints of dawn on the horizon. "I, uh, I'm... I'm sorry. I don't remember coming here." he mumbled, "Woah, did I hurt you? Oh my God, I hurt you, I'm so--"
"This is your blood, Peter." you growled, cutting off his frenzied rambling as he finally caught sight of the red stains all over your body. "Get out."
He stared at you with parted lips, eyes wide with panic and apprehension. "Are you crying?" he finally asked, his voice timid.
It took you a moment to realize that, yes, you were in fact crying. You hadn't realized that the tears were still flowing from your eyes, but as you did the adrenaline wore off and you choked out through a sob, "Get out! Get out of here, Peter!"
Without the adrenaline pumping through your veins to keep you grounded, the emotion of the entire situation caught up to you. All the fear, anguish, guilt, and anxiety--it all washed over you in an instant and you were losing it. But, you were also angry. You were angry with Peter for putting you in that position.
You were angry that he'd show up, barely alive and begging for your help, when he knew somewhat of what you'd been through. He knew, at the very least, that your sister's death was on your hands, and he put you in a position to put another name on that list. Most of all, though, you were angry that already all of your worst fears were thrown in your face.
Peter wasn't your friend, but some part of you wanted him to be, and already you were faced with the prospect of him dying and you being helpless to stop it. Why was the universe so cruel to you? Were you cursed? It was all a sick, twisted joke, and you wanted no part of it.
"(Y/N), what's wrong--"
You cried, "Just, please, go. I'll see you at school, okay? Just go!"
And, after a moment of hesitation, he went. He climbed out of your window from where he watched you for another minute longer, clearly unwilling to leave you alone in such a state. Peter watched wordlessly as you fumbled to close and latch the window, until you shut the curtains and shut him out again.
Peter Parker: i'm so sorry
Peter Parker: please be okay
Peter Parker: i better see you at school tomorrow or i'm coming back to check on you
Peter Parker: or today i guess
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