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jeromesxreader16 · 3 years

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Such a Joker (54)

Part 53 Here!

~o0o~

"Who are you?" Bruce's voice booms through the study. He stares at his newly crafted parents with confusion, and shock. His mind must be going in circles. "Well, look who decided to join us," Martha speaks to her boy. "Hello, champ." Thomas follows.

"Master Bruce!" Alfred pops in with a tray of tea and biscuits. Bruce looks at his friend in shock. "Alfred, how did you..."

"Look at the state of you. What have I told you about rolling around in the muck?" Bruce stares at everyone, Jeremiah and I hide away watching for the time being.

"Alfred, what's going on? Who are these people?"

"Whatever do you mean, Bruce?"

"We're your parents." Silence from the billionaire boy Bruce Wayne.

"Right. Well, let's get you spruced up. After all, we have guests."

Jeremiah pulls us both out with smiles. His hand around my waist and his other raising a glass. "Welcome home, Bruce."

"Jeremiah. You're alive." Bruce's eyes travel to mine.

"Well, you didn't think Selina could kill me so easily, did you? Or that I'd ever leave my wife and my unborn sprees? I just had to put you off my scent until I could finalize my... project." Jeremiah pinches Martha's cheek. Bruce lunges for him before Alfred stops him. "Manners, Master Bruce. Let's not be rude to our guests."

I look to Bruce with a slight smile. If I play along I might be able to stay safer if I play the victim. I smile kissing Jer's cheek. "Especially when we come bearing gifts." I present the bomb to them all on the table. "Oh, Mrs. Valaska. A cake. How exceedingly kind of you. Is it Italian meringue?" I look back at Jeremiah with a smile, about to burst into laughter. He shrugs his shoulder. "Sure." Bruce strides towards me with fury, until Jeremiah pulls out the trigger.

"Now, now, Bruce, you come any closer and I blow up Wayne Manor, with all of us inside of it. I have a dozen more of these, uh, Italian meringues sprinkled throughout the house." Bruce glares at me with ill intent. "What did you do to Alfred? And who are these people?" I roll my eyes leaving Jerimiah's side and plopping on the couch. "Ah, glad you asked. Come."

Jer strolls over to look at Wayne's personalized smiles with Bruce. "Mommy and Daddy dearest were just an innocent couple I kidnapped based on... bone structure and, um... build. Just a touch of plastic surgery, and voila... Waynes. Alfred, I nabbed in the Green Zone." Bruce waves his hand in front of their faces, connecting the dots.

"They're hypnotized."

"Well, I'm afraid there was no room for improv in our script. Today is a... very important day, Bruce. Just look at the way they're dressed." I walk around Martha, admiring her pearls. "I like these, J." He hum. "I'll get you some just like it, love, but these ones are important for tonight." I giggle and kiss his cheek.

"It's the night my parents were killed," Bruce says with sadness.

"And I'm giving you the chance to experience it all over again."

"Why?"

"Isn't it obvious? Bruce... this...this was the most important day of your life. And I didn't get to be a part of it. We didn't get to comfort you on your big day. We need to rectify that." I stretch my arms out, planting them on my swollen belly. "Alfred, is dinner done? I'm hungry."

Jeremiah nods looking at Alfred. "Chop-chop. We're on a very tight schedule. My wife needs to eat." Alfred bows his head. "Of course, Mr. Jeremiah."

Jeremiah pulls out a chair for me in the dining area. Very comfortable and quaint! Jeremiah passes me a plate full of fruits and toast. "Alfred told me such great tidbits about your childhood. Any jam, darling?" Jer paused to ask me. I shake my head, kissing his cheek. "No love."

He nods, "Anyways, yes, How you used to eat here, in the kitchen, when it was just you and the family. My, how... homey and intimate. That's exactly how I'm raising my children."

Alfred walks over with Jer's food. "Grilled cheese and Branston pickle sandwich, Mr. Jeremiah. Master Bruce's favorite. My influence, though Thomas did add a dash of aioli for extra flair." Jer looks at Bruce with judgemental eyes. "Oh. Come on, Bruce. That's a weird favorite food for a 12-year-old."

"I'm playing your game," Bruce says smacking the plate off the table. "Now let Alfred and these people go. They're innocent."

"I'm sorry, Bruce, it's just... it's very important to me that I get every detail exactly right. Speaking of which... the final touch. What was it like... losing your parents that night? I lost my family, too, Bruce. The wound still hasn't healed. I... think about it often." Jeremiah falls into his thoughts, trailing off.

"None of this is real. You're trying to manipulate me. It will never be real." Jer smirks seeing the despair and sadness on Bruce's face. "But you are thinking about that night. That's all I need. I just want to be connected to you. I offered for you to be my best friend! You could've been the godfather to my children. But I've realized if we... can't be friends... then we can be connected in other ways."

"How?" Bruce asks frightened.

"You'll see. In time." Jeremiah looks at his watch humming. "I'm sorry to cut tonight short... but... your parents and I have a very important date ...with destiny." He laughs as we stand up and disappear with the Waynes. "You might want to find your faithful butler and leave. Quickly." as we rush out of the home Bruce struggles to find his butler.

Jeremiah runs through the tunnels, dragging me behind. "Exhilarating. Isn't it love?" I grab the wall as we near the end. "I... I need to slow down." His face smooths and he presses his hand to my back. "Aw, my love, I'm sorry. Giving you a hard time today?" His hand comes to my stomach and the twins kick excessively. "When you're around." I laugh leaning onto the soft fabric of his blazer. Jer looks down at me with sad eyes. "This is dangerous. You shouldn't be here." I furrow my brows. "You brought me along!" "And it was foolish of me. Gents, for the rest of the night, keep my wife safe. At safe blast range."

"Jeremiah!" Bruce calls in the theater. "Show yourself!"

The screen starts running a film. "Ol?! Hola, Bruce." Jeremiah swings in the frame on the big screen. "Well, here we are, the theater where your mommy and daddy took you to see The Mark of Zorro. Ha-ha! I had heard you were obsessed with this man as a child. I wonder what was it

that intrigued you so? Was it the fact that he struck fear into the hearts of his enemy?" Jeremiah in his costume fights off his enemies on the screen.

"En garde! Take that, you villain."

Jer looks into the screen. "Perhaps the movie was a bit too effective. Isn't this the part where you became frightened? When you asked your parents to leave? I wonder what would have happened if you hadn't done that. If you had conquered your fear. Maybe your parents would still be alive."

"Well, on to the last and final stop down memory lane."

Bruce runs out of the theater in a sprint. He stops in his tracks when he sees Jerimiah and I. "Stop! Stop! That's far enough, Bruce."

"Jeremiah. You don't have to do this."

"But I... I do. You see, I-I came to this realization. I realized that no matter what I did to bond us, some random gunman in an alley would be the man who you were tied to the most. The man you saw when you closed your eyes. I want to be the star of the show! Jeremiah says dramatically. "So if I can't have you as a brother bonded by love, then we'll just have to be bonded by hatred." Bruce huffs at him in anger. "And you think killing two people that look like my parents will do that? It won't."

Jer tightens his grip on me. "Well, then it's a good thing I already put a bullet in both of their fraudulent skulls." I look up at him with furrowed brows. "You said-" "Oh, you're both confused. How sweet." I look back to the couple with their backs facing us. "Jer, who is that?"

"You're wondering if I already shot them, then who's this lovely couple?" I jerk away from Jerimiah in an attempt to see the two. "No."

"Thomas, Martha...why don't you turn around?" Tears well in my eyes. "Jer, why?" He looks down at me with venom. "It's always been a roadblock, darling. Even for Jerome. With Jim in the way. No family of ours will survive. So why not have some fun with it, huh?" He winks at me. "No! You- you can't. These kids need him." "They need me," Jerimiah says with a smirk. "And so do you, doll."

"See, Bruce throughout our little adventure, fate brought to me James Gordon and Leslie Thompkins, and I thought to myself, why not... why not kill the man who you think of as your second father figure? And your dear, dear, dear friend Lee Thompkins. And when I do, finally, you and I will be bound together. Because you see...reunification with the mainland hangs on by a thread. Those fireworks go off and toxic chemicals rain down onto the city, and the government...cuts us adrift for good." I let a tear fall. "Jeremiah, please. Don't" He hold me tighter, never letting go of his hold.

Jer pulls me to the car, shoveling me in. "Dad!" I scream over his shoulder.

"I had Jervis Tetch hypnotize them so that they'll wake up the moment these beautiful pearls hit the ground. I want you to see them realize what I've done to them as life drains from their bodies. Never forget, this is all for you, Bruce." Jerimiah hops into the car with me, closing the door as we speed off. I stay silent. Sitting alone. "Aw, darling. Come on now. You know I had to. A wife can never live a life with two sides. You'll understand one day." He kisses my cheek while looking out the windows at his destruction.

"You know... I always liked him." I look up across from me to see Jerome. "He got on my nerves, but he always kept it interesting, didn't he, doll?" I push a smile out on my lips, nodding. Jerome leans over and kisses my forehead. "Cheer up love. Look down, look at our kids. Give them a laugh for me. Keep that one in check." He winks before setting back and vanishing.

I shake my head pushing all the nerves back in my mind. "Jerimiah, love? Where are we going?" He smiles grabbing my hand. "To the finale." Rounding a corner I see the big illuminated letters of ACE Chemicals. The inside reeking of strong odors.

"Jeremiah! Face me!" Bruce's echoed scream bounced through the factory. "Here, Bruce," Jer calls loudly. I stay behind pipes, hidden away safely as Bruce runs after my mad husband.

"Jeremiah! This ends. Tonight."

Both gentlemen on the metal walkway above the vats of acid. Bruce hits Jerimaih making him stumble against the railing. "No, Bruce. Now it begins." Bruce kicks Jerimaih down the catwalk, towering him. "You feel it.

The connection between us. You do. Don't you? Bruce, you feel it." Bruce punches Jeremiah as he continues. "Tell me you feel it."

"You mean nothing to me."

Jerimiah's head butts Bruce before getting to his feet again. "Why don't you understand?" Jer grabs Bruce pushing him against the railing, causing it to bend. "You need me. I'm the answer to your life's question! Without me, you're just a joke...without a punch-" Jerimiah throws his hand at Bruce, but Bruce moves at the right time causing Jer to miss. His arm follows through in the wind, his body hitting the railing hard causing it to break and Jerimiah to fall into the vat. "NO!" I scream running over. Bruce tugs me back as I try to reach down into the vat. "(y/n), no!" I cry holding to the broken railing. "No... no..." I lower my head into my hands. They're both gone. I'm all alone now.

An ambulance rolls up fishing out Jerimiaha's body from the vat. "Miss." I continue to watch as Jerimiah's body is laid on a table and carried away. "Miss." I look up to see a nurse with worry-filled eyes. "I need you to come with me. You've been surrounded by hazardous chemicals. We need to make your child is okay." I nod numbly. Passing Bruce, keeping my head down. "(Y/n)," Bruce calls. "Let me follow." I nod without a word.

"Well, Mrs. Valeska. You're set. Two healthy twins." I nod standing. "Where is-" "Room 204. He's unconscious." "I don't care." I stand walking to the locked room, two guards on each side. "I'm his wife," I say before entering. In the bed, Jerimiah lays still, wrapped up in bandages from head to toe. I feel my tears well up with tears. "He did it to himself, doll. Nothing you could've done." Jerome kisses my shoulder, wrapping his arms around me. The ghostly feeling so comforting. I lay hand hands on his feeling the cold skin. "I wish you were here." "I know, but someone else is." The door opens and none other than my father walks in. "Dad." "Oh, my god." He covers his mouth, tears welling up, as he wraps me in his arms. "You're okay." I cry into his shoulder.

Selina and Bruce arrive in the room. "I can't believe he's still alive," Selina says with hatred, but I can't blame her. "They've been doing scans, and he has no brain activity," I say never taking my eyes away from Jer. "So, he's no longer a threat to you. To anyone." I turn around walking away from the room. "(Y/n)," Dad calls out. "Come home with me, honey. You need to be-" "Okay. I'll meet you there." I continue to walk out the doors into the dark night of Gotham, a quiet night.

#jerome #jerome x reader #jerome valeska #jerome valeska imagine #jerome valeska x reader #jeremiah valeska imagine #jeremiah valeska x reader #jerome valeska smut #Gotham #Gotham City #gotham cast

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the-great-imagines-of-1812 · 3 years

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La Vie En Rose- Bucky Barnes x Rogers! reader

Summary: By some miracle, Bucky Barnes doesn’t fall of the train on that cold day in the Swiss alps in 1945. He spend the rest of his days with his girl; you.

Song Used: La Vie En Rose // (The Louis Armstrong version)

Hold me close and hold me fast The magic spell you cast

You remember the day your Sergeant first set foot in New York City after 2 years of fighting overseas so vividly. Two pairs of arms clutched each of yours; Rebecca, Bucky’s sister, on one side and Winnifred, his mom, on the other.

Dozens on regiments have reached the US several days before, but because both Bucky and Steve were stuck on one last mission, something in The Swiss Alps, as he had expressed in a letter, they were due on the second to last ship.

But now you were here. Two years of tears, nail-biting anxiety, and exchanging letters back and forth had finally come to an end, and soon both your boys were coming home.

If it weren’t for the three of you standing near the back, you wouldn’t have seen the ship due to all the people crowding the Brooklyn harbor. Thousands of wives, sisters, brothers, families and best friends all crowded together on that day were there were no clouds in the sky.

It seemed like some sort of sign. All the madness of war had finally reached it’s end; and now the sun was welcoming the country’s men home.

The magic spell you cast This is "La vie en rose"

You didn’t see Steve or Bucky at first. Rebecca clutched on to you, the poor girl almost breaking out into sobs as the three of you had been waiting nearly an hour since the boat had come into sight.

Winnifred stood on the very tip of her heels, hand over her eyes, in an attempt to block out the sun so she could get a better look at the soldiers walking down the gangplank.

The shriek she let out could’ve made you deaf if you didn’t realize what it was for. Helping Rebecca up from the ground where she had collapsed, you clasped a hand over you mouth as the last of the soldiers set foot on solid ground, Bucky and Steve among them.

Rebecca sped away quickly, her body crashing onto her brother’s in a tight hug. Walking up to them yourself, with Winnifred close behind, you gave Steve a tap on the shoulder and he turned around with a smile.

“Stevie, look at you! You’re so tall now. You’ll have to reach the flour on the shelf for me now.” you smiled, while he wrapped you in a now- tight - hug.

“I have absolutely no problem at all reaching the flour for-” he attempted to answer you, but was cut off by Bucky.

“What m’ I, dollface, chopped liver?” He said from behind you.

Turning around and practically jumping on him, he wrapped two arms around your back. He was warm and smelled like fresh pine. Tucking your head into his neck, you felted grounded and safe.

Because he was home.

“Let go of the sister, Buck. She does live with me, and we oughta to all go home to catch a rest.”

“Oh shove off Steve. She may be your sister, but she’s my girl and I missed her.”

When you kiss me, heaven sighs And though I close my eyes I see "La vie en rose"

The day that Bucky got down on one knee with his mom’s ring in hand was one you’ll remember for ever.

It was a year after he had come home, and Steve had put him through the third degree (despite being his best friend) when he stood at the doorway of the small apartment that you and Steve shared with a small bunch of flowers.

You had come out a few minutes later, with a dusty green dress, hair curled to perfection and a red lip.

Steve had demanded that he bring you home by 9, how he couldn't hurt you, the regular stuff he would say when Bucky came to take you out on a date.

The stars seemed to shine for only you two that night. There was a soft jazz tune playing throughout the park. The pair of you had just gone to dinner, and couldn’t stop giggling, which earned you a few stares from the elderly people trying to enjoy a quiet night.

But he sat you down on a bench, grabbed both your hands gently, while he got down on one knee, probably delivering what was the most moving monologue you had ever heard in your life:

“Y/N M/N Rogers, love of my life, doll-”

You knew what was coming. Tears streamed down your face in happiness. “Buck I-”

“Just please hun- let me say what I gotta’ say. We’ve known each other for a very long time now. And ever since I can remember, Steve always threatened to punch me whenever I did so much as look at you.”

This earned a laugh from you.

“But somehow, we made it work, and the three of us ran around Hell’s Kitchen like the mighty trio we still are. Hiding under the watchful eye of Steve in our late teens and early twenty’s was not easy- but here we are. And before I left for England, I promised I was gonna marry ya. And I’m a man of my word.”

He let go of both your hands to dig for something in his pocket. After a few seconds, he pulled out a little red box.

“This ring belonged to my mom, and now it’s mine to use. I hope you’ll let me give it to you. You are the love of my life. I might not have much, but I sure love you with everything I have. Will you marry me?”

You practically jumped on him, and if he wasn’t on one knee and hadn’t managed to maintain balance, he would’ve fallen over. Peppering kisses all over his face while he wrapped his arms around you.

“I’ll take this as a yes, doll?”

“You bet, Sergeant.”

“Now let me put this ring on you, hmm?”

When you press me to your heart I'm in a world apart

You became Mr. and Mrs. Barnes in the fall of that same year. It was a small wedding, so there wasn’t much planning.

It was held in one of Howard Stark’s many residences, an small estate in Albany, which he offered to have the wedding held, and even officiated himself, as he had been a close friend of yours since you had entered a career in science, and had helped Bucky and Steve overseas.

There weren’t may people in attendance, but that was exactly what you and Bucky had wanted. There was Steve and your soon-to-be sister in law, Peggy (which you had gotten along fabulously with), Bucky’s mother and father and siblings, Howard himself (of course) and his girlfriend, Maria.

The golden rays of the sun shone through the high windows, light bouncing off practically everything in the room. You had previously saved up enough for a dress, and maybe Howard had given you a bonus in the past couple of weeks just so you could. He didn’t tell you that, of course.

As soon as you had been pronounced man and wife, Bucky swept you up in his arms, giving you a quick spin, dipping you, which got “Calm down you two rabbits-” from Howard. Maria slapped him after.

Celebration soon followed in the dining room of the home, with a home-made meal, courtesy of Winnifred, Rebecca, Peggy and Maria all together.

You couldn’t have been more thankful.

A world where roses bloom And when you speak, angels sing from above

The Barnes Family had been blessed with twins two years later, in 1948. One girl, and one boy; Rebecca Margaret Barnes and Robert Howard Barnes. They lit up both you and Bucky’s life, and you both became involved in a much more domestic life, now moving to the suburbs, but still remaining in the state of New York in order to be close to friends and family, which now included your new niece, Sarah Y/N Rogers.

Howard and Maria had yet to have kids, but they were in no rush to get married, either.

Every weekday Bucky would come home from work at the bank, were he was finally able to make the money he had been dreaming of his entire life, and your worked from home, making many blueprints for Stark Industries, which you were now the co-owner of, and spent some days at your office in the city while Maria had offered to babysit numerous times.

Fridays Bucky would bring home soda-pop for the entire family, which was then followed by a big dinner made by you, and dancing in the living room with Bucky till’ midnight, when the kids were already in bed.

Saturdays were for the Rogers, Barnes and Stark families to get together and have a picnic in the park you, Bucky, and Steve had grown up in. Maria always had the habit of bringing the watermelon, you the apple pie, and Peggy with her famous English biscuits.

Sundays, Winnifred practically dragged three families to church, much to everyone’s protest, but it was always followed by a plentiful Sunday dinner.

Nobody ever complained about that.

Everyday words seem to turn into love songs Give your heart and soul to me,

The years had passed, yet none of these traditions faltered, even when all the kids were of age to leave for their college education.

Minus one Anthony ‘Tony’ Stark, who had been born in 1970. He was the youngest of the bunch.

As Rebecca and Robert Jr. had moved off to college in New Jersey at the same time, you and Bucky moved back to the city, not to far from The Starks.

The only one tradition that never faltered was yours and Bucky’s dancing on Friday nights, where you often danced to the song form your wedding- “Dream A Little Dream of Me”

You would love and cherish the small things. You knew that then, you knew that now.

To love and remember, because as long as you and Bucky had each other, you would always- what was the phrase the French used? oh, right.

You would always see La Vie en Rose.

#bcuky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #1940's Bucky Barnes x reader #marvel x reader #steve rogers x sister reader #peggy carter #peggy carter x reader #steve rogers #howard stark #howard stark x reader #maria stark #maria stark x reader

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wiypt-writes · 3 years

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Stark Spangled Banner

Ch29. The Sokovia Accords Part 1: When You Gotta Go...You Gotta Go.

Summary: Things didn’t go according to plan in Lagos and as a result The Avengers are faced with a set of regulations which the Government are seeking to impose on them. But, when Steve gets a phone call with some devastating news, it all pales into insignificance.

Warnings: Bad language, Smut! (NSFW, Under 18s) Bad Language words.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

A/N: Elements of this have been reworked/rewritten…for reasons which will become apparent at some point! Once again HUGE thanks to @angrybirdcr

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Chapter 28

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chaos. That was the only way to describe what went down when The Avengers mobilised. The Institute was compromised and, after a violent chase Natasha secured the biological weapon which had been stolen, whilst Katie and Sam provided support from the air, Wanda dealing with a huge cloud of poisonous gas which had been released.

And then Steve and Rumlow ended up exchanging blows, which was where it all went completely to shit.

Neither of them seemed to have the upper hand, although it felt like Rumlow did for a while, as he slammed Steve into a building and extended a blade from one of his gauntlets.

“This is for dropping a building on my face.” He snarled. Steve, however, was quick to respond and pulled the gauntlet off, only for Rumlow to reveal another knife. After a violent struggle, Steve finally got the better of the man, forcing him to his knees, both of them heaving from the exertion of the fight. As Steve glared down at him, Rumlow reached up to remove his mask and Steve’s mouth fell slightly open at the sight of the man’s scarred face.

“I think I look pretty good, all things considered.” Rumlow chuckled.

“Who’s your buyer?” Steve asked, grabbing him by the collar.

“You know, he knew you. Your pal, your buddy, your Bucky.”

Steve froze, his stomach twisting slightly at the mention of his friend. He remembered him? Really? His jaw clenched in anger slightly as he looked down at Rumlow who was smirking.

“What did you say?” He demanded.

“He remembered you. I was there. He got all weepy about it. Till they put his brain back in a blender.” Rumlow wheezed with a laugh. “He wanted you to know something. He said to me, ‘Please tell Rogers. When you gotta go, you gotta go…’ And you’re coming with me.”

It was whilst this was going on that Katie, who had been flying over, saw exactly what was happening. FRIDAY scanned Rumlow and told her about he was wired to explode, but even as she yelled a warning to Steve on the coms, the bomb vest exploded. Steve staggered back slightly, but the blast was encapsulated by a ball of red energy. Katie landed besides Wanda who was concentrating on keeping the explosion contained around Rumlow and she lifted him into the air before she lost control. The explosion finally blossomed, devastating entire floors of a nearby office building. Wanda’s hand flew to her mouth in shock as Katie stood by her side, looking up in disbelief.

“Oh my…” Steve approached the girls, looking up open mouthed. This was bad. Really bad. “Sam … we need fire and Rescue … on the South side of the building.” He stuttered between breaths, before he looked at Katie “We gotta get up there.”

She nodded and took off.

The Avengers did all they could to help the rescue efforts, but after twelve long hours Katie suggested they leave, as just like in Sokovia, the locals were baying for blood. They didn’t know the exact death toll. Steve wasn’t sure he wanted to either. When they landed back at base Wanda was first down the ramp, she hadn’t spoken a word since the incident, and she sped straight past Rhodey who was waiting at the bottom. He watched her go and then looked at Steve.

“Secretary Ross has already been on.”

“Ross can kiss my ass.” Katie mumbled, wiping at her face which was dirty from the clear up efforts.

Rhodey smiled a little as she stepped off the ramp.

“What does he want?” Steve asked, ignoring Katie’s grumblings. .

“A report.”

The Captain sighed. “Okay, we’ll get right on it.”

“No we won’t” Katie spun round to face him, her face stern. “It’s gone four am and we have been awake for over twenty-four hours. The team are tired, you’re tired. Ross can wait.” Steve opened his mouth to tell her that he really thought it was best they deal with it now but she wasn’t having any of it. “Don’t argue with me Steven.” She cut him off before he could start, her eyes flashing dangerously. “We’ve been away for almost a week, and it’s been a long day. We’re all tired, we need rest, and that means you too.”

Rhodey and Sam exchanged a grin, they loved it when Katie put her foot down with Steve. She was the only one who could make him see sense when he was like this and the only one of them that the Captain was secretly, just a tiny bit scared of. With good reason the men thought, because, let’s face it, she had the keys to his sex life after all.

Steve looked at her, half of him was exasperated at her calling him out like this, but the other half knew she was right. Eventually, to avoid an argument he sighed and nodded.

“Fine. Rhodey, tell Ross I’ll call him tomorrow. Go get some sleep everyone, we’ll debrief in the morning.”

“Somebody should probably check on Wanda.” Sam pointed out and Katie nodded.

“I’ll go.” She volunteered, heading out of the room.

After a brief search Katie found her in the communal kitchen, slumped down against a counter with her knees pulled up to her chest. She made her way over and slid down to sit next to her. The two sat in silence until Wanda eventually sniffed.

“It’s all my fault. I thought I could contain it. I should have thrown the bomb somewhere else.”

“Wanda, you did your best.” Katie sighed, putting her arm around her. “That’s all anyone can do.”

And then the younger woman broke down. She sobbed, dropping her head onto Katie’s shoulder and there was nothing to do but let her cry and soothe her, telling her it would be okay.

Once she had settled Wanda back in her room, Katie made her way back to their apartment, running her hands over her face. She was exhausted, but she also knew Steve was brooding over the events as well. She walked into the bedroom and looked into the en-suite through the open door watching as Steve was drying his hair and his face after having showered, dressed in nothing but his grey sweat pants, which hung off his hips in a way that usually made his wife combust. As he finished he glanced in the mirror and caught sight of Katie who was leaning up against the door-frame.

“How is she?” He asked.

“Upset.” Katie said honestly “She’s taking things really hard.”

“This is all my fault.” Steve sighed heavily, shaking his head as he turned to face her.

“Steve, what happened is no one’s fault…” She began, but he cut her off.

“You were there.” Steve looked at his wife. “You saw what happened, Doll.” His shoulders dropped as he tried to brush past Katie to exit the bathroom, but she stepped to the side to block his path.

“Yes, I saw what happened.” She looked up at him. “But I still don’t understand why you’re blaming yourself.”

"Because I lost focus!” Steve yelled, his frustrations bubbling over and he ran a hand through his damp hair as Katie blinked, the only reaction she gave to his angry change in demeanour. “All Rumlow had to do was mention Bucky and it was like I was a little kid in Brooklyn again.”

“Bucky?” she frowned. “He mentioned Bucky? I don’t-“

“He told me that Bucky remembered me, well he did, until they, and I quote, ‘put his brain back in a blender.” Steve pinched the bridge of his nose and Katie looked up at him, his face was contorted with a mixture of grief and tiredness. She sighed and wrapped her arm around him and he buried his face into her neck. Always so stoic and unmovable to the outside world, but with her it was a different story.

“Sorry for shouting at you.” He nuzzled closer, sniffing slightly, his voice slightly muffled when he spoke.

“It’s okay.” She soothed and he took a deep breath.

“All he had to do was say his name and I lost it. He was wearing that fucking vest from the start, I should’ve gotten rid of it right away but-”

“It is not your fault.” Katie shook her head, her hand gently stroking his hair. “Stevie, I challenge anyone to be in that position and not react the same.”

"I’m supposed to be the leader,” He pulled away with a shake of his head as he straightened up slightly. And it was true. As far as he was concerned this started and ended with him. “I’m supposed to stay professional no matter what, but when it comes to Bucky and you for that matter…”

“Baby, you’re only human.” Katie assured him, her voice gentle as she took his face in her hands “Super-strength, enhanced yes, but still a wonderfully flawed, dumbass human being, just like the rest of us.”She leaned up to give him a gentle kiss. “We can only do our best, Love. Nothing more.” He sighed and then pulled her in for another hug, burying his face into her hair, which smelt of ash and gunpowder and her, giving him something to anchor himself to. As her face pressed into his bare chest he felt her smile softly before she pulled back to look at him.

“Wanna be little spoon tonight?”

His face split into a childish grin because the thought of her holding him was so damned comforting and appealing right now. “Yeah, yeah I do.”

**** The relative feel-good factor that had been present at the base for months was completely decimated. None of them had ever been under the illusion that life as an Avenger would be easy, but now it seemed to be getting harder by the day. In the weeks that passed by following the Lagos incident, various Diplomatic Heads of States waded into the debate, demanding some kind of regulations were put in place to police The Avengers, something Steve, Sam and Katie felt drastically opposed to, the three of them often getting into protracted discussions between themselves about what it could mean for the Avengers were it to happen, discussions which Natasha, Rhodey, Vision and Wanda avoided.

The most troubling thing for Katie though, was the silence on the issue emanating from Tony. He’d called by, of course, to make sure everyone was alright, but she had assumed he would be anti-government control considering his stance on all things official previously. But he hadn’t commented to any of them about it, which worried his sister immensely. Katie tried several times to get him to open up whilst they were out touring with the Foundations but each time he shut her down and changed the subject. This wasn’t helped by the fact that one day they were accosted by a woman who had lost her son in Sokovia. She blamed him, blamed her, blamed all of The Avengers, and had grown even angrier when Katie had tied to placate her. Their flight home that day was a silent one, Tony speaking only when they landed home to state that everyone needed to get round the table to talk things over, specifically how they go forward as a team and that they should face facts, The Avengers needed to be accountable for their actions and if that meant they were put under sanction, then so be it.

Steve had reacted exactly how Katie had assumed he would, out and out refusal to even contemplate listening to what Tony was going to say. Katie had sensibly pointed out that the issue of Government control wasn’t going to go away and they had to confront it, and to do that they needed a joint position, of which Tony was a big part. Steve had simply shook his head, insisting that it was out of the question at which point Katie’s temper had bubbled over and she had yelled at him, calling him an stubborn prick, before telling him to take his head out of his ass and look around at his team. His team, which at the moment, was struggling a little. She’d continued to blaze at him about how things couldn’t continue the way there were, and something was going to have to give, and then she called him a moron for not being able to see what was staring him in the face, before slamming the door to their quarters as she stormed out.

In the wake of her spectacular exit, Steve angrily headed to the gym to pound his frustrations out on a punching bag. And whilst there, with each blow he landed, he thought about what Katie had said, and as the angry fog cleared from his brain he realised she was right. Wanda had been withdrawn for the past few weeks, rarely emerging from her room, talking to no one really but Vision. Natasha was currently taking some time out at Clint’s which was almost unheard of, unless it was over a holiday period. Sam and Rhodey had continued their training with Evans and the new recruits but even there Steve could see things were subdued, neither of them socialising much. His team were suffering and he’d been so wrapped up in his own, stubborn little world to realise. And, as their Captain and leader, he had to rectify this and do something about it. So, he swallowed his pride and apologised to his wife and told her to call Tony.

They arranged to meet the day after next, and in preparation, Steve gathered his team they day beforehand and told them what was going to happen. He asked them to think about their positions and feelings carefully, but made it perfectly clear that whatever they decided it wasn’t going to be a problem, and they would reach a conclusion jointly, because that’s what they did.

As it was a sunny day, Katie suggested an early evening BBQ to try and coax them to spend some time together. And Steve was happy to see it working, as for the first time since Lagos, everyone seemed to be relaxed. But then that was his girl all over. Full of great ideas because she understood people and could empathise with how they felt in a way Steve could only wish of doing.

“Well, I gotta say.” Sam dropped his cutlery onto his plate with a clang. “For an old man, you sure can grill a steak pretty well.”

“I’ll take that as a back handed compliment.” Steve rolled his eyes and picked up his glass which contained a decent measure of the Asgardian Liquor Thor had left for him. He was secretly pleased though, whilst Katie was the cook, the grill was most certainly his domain.

“That potato salad was fantastic!” Wanda looked at Katie “Where did you learn to cook?”

“Sure as hell wasn’t Tony!” Rhodey quipped .

Katie laughed and shrugged “I dunno, I picked various pieces up from Pepper, and I watched a lot of cooking shows as a student in England but, well, I just tried and found I could I suppose. Has everyone had enough or…”

There were murmurs of a general stuffed nature from around the table, and she stood up to clear the plates until Steve gently grabbed her arm. She’d been fussing like a mother hen around everyone all evening and he wanted her to sit down and relax.

“Leave that, we can do it later.” He insisted gently, shooting her a look.

“Mr Neat-Freak telling me to leave the dishes?” She grinned, as he pulled her onto his lap. “That Asgardian stuff going to your head already?”

He shot her a look but at that point they were both distracted by a loud “Shit!” from round the table where Sam had spilt his beer.

“Now, just hold on a minute.” Rhodey said, his eyes flashing as Sam hastily began to mop at the river of Peroni that was cascading across the red and white gingham table cloth. “Cap doesn’t like that kind of talk.”

Everyone laughed, except Steve whose brow creased into a serious look.

“You heard Rhodey, Sam” He arched an eyebrow. “Watch your fucking language.”

The table descended into fits of laughter and Steve took the opportunity as he looked around his team to raise Katie’s hand to his mouth, pressing a gentle kiss to her wrist, a gesture she took and understood to be a thank you and another apology. She’d been right, agreeing to talk about what was coming had lifted a weight off everyone’s shoulders.

Well almost everyone’s.

Steve still had that sick feeling in his stomach, that sick feeling that told him there was something big and bad looming on the horizon.

*****

“11 Wakandans were among those killed during a confrontation between the Avengers and a group of mercenaries in Lagos, Nigeria last month. The traditionally reclusive Wakandans were on an outreach mission when the attack occurred.”

The next afternoon Steve was sat watching a news report on the screen above his desk, turning his compass over in his right hand. He felt exhausted. As he ran his hands over his face he felt himself tense up when King T’Chaka of Wakanda came on the screen

“Our people’s blood is spilled on foreign soil. Not only because of the actions of criminals, but by the indifference of those pledged to stop them. Victory at the expense of the innocent is no victory at all.”

The King had waded straight into the debate immediately after the incident as a group of his people had been killed in the blast. He was one of the main campaigners about the need for some form of sanctions to be put in place. Steve was on edge enough about Tony coming, and deciding he didn’t want to hear or watch anymore, he turned the TV off. But, his sharp ears caught the continuation of the news broadcast being continued elsewhere, and he inclined his head a little to the left as he took in which direction it was coming from. He glanced up and saw that the window to his office was open, and standing up he walked over to it, the sound growing louder.

It was coming from the residential floor above. Directly above, unless he was mistaken. Which meant the person watching was in Wanda’s room. He turned and made his way out of his office and up the flight of stairs at the end of the corridor, figuring out he could make it up one floor faster than he could call the elevator. He pressed his palm to the door which would allow him access to the floor which contained Wanda, Evans’ and Natasha’s rooms, and it slid open with a little hiss.

“They are operating outside and above the international law. Because that’s the reality, if we don’t respond to acts like these” came the voice which grew louder as he approached her room. He stopped at the door, which was open, and paused as he saw Wanda was sitting on her bed, watching a TV which stood on a dresser in the corner.

“What legal authority does an enhanced individual like Wanda Maximoff have to operate in Nigeri – “

With a deep breath Steve picked up the TV remote from the nightstand and turned the set off before placing the remote down, leaning on the doorframe

Wanda looked round. She spotted him but she didn’t get up.

“It’s my fault” she swallowed gently shaking her head.

“That’s not true” Steve replied gently.

“Turn the TV back on. They’re being very specific.” She said sarcastically.

“I should’ve clocked that bomb vest long before you had to deal with it.” Steve pushed off the frame and walked over to the bed where she was sat. “Rumlow said Bucky and all of a suddenly I was a 16-year-old kid again, in Brooklyn” He sat on her bed next to her, “And people died. It’s on me.”

“It’s on both of us” Wanda looked at him.

“You know,” Steve smiled gently as he recalled the words Katie had said to him years ago, “this job, we try to save as many people as we can. Sometimes that doesn’t mean everybody. But if we can’t find a way to live with that, next time maybe nobody gets saved.”

Before Wanda could reply, Vision materialized through the wall making them both jump. It made Steve slightly uneasy how the android was the only person who seemingly could get the drop on him like that.

“Viz! We talked about this.” Wanda chastised him.

“Yes, but the door was open so I assumed that…” He gestured at the door and stopped. “Captain Rogers you wished to know when Mr. Stark was arriving.”

“Thank you. We’ll be right down.” Steve nodded.

“I’ll use the door. Oh, and apparently, he’s brought a guest.”

“Who?” Steve frowned, that hadn’t been part of the plan as far as he was aware.

“The Secretary of State.” Vision said, turning to go.

Steve’s frown deepened and he turned to Wanda. She was sat looking at her hands. He knew instantly why Tony hadn’t mentioned he was bringing him, because he would have been met with a resounding no. Giving Wanda’s shoulder a squeeze he stood up and left the room telling her to follow him down when she felt ready to.

“Why is he here?” Katie was blazing at her brother when Steve arrived at the conference room.

“Oh hi, Tony.” The billionaire snarked, rolling his eyes. Katie glared at him, her arms folded and chin jutted out defiantly, a look Steve had seen many times before. Tony sighed. “Look, I suggested he come. He can explain the thinking behind the proposed sanctions better than I can.”

“What do you mean, proposed?” Steve looked at Tony. “I thought this was supposed to be a discussion on the idea?”

“They already have a set drafted.” Tony informed him after a moment’s hesitation and Steve scoffed, turning away as Katie rounded on her brother.

“Are you for real?” She hissed through her teeth. “So not only do you spring him on us, now you’re saying the very thing we thought we were going to be discussing, as a team, is already fucking decided?”

“Kiddo, just hear us out, please?” Tony sighed

“Us?” she spat, as she looked over at General Ross who was stood talking to an aide at the other end of the room, in front of the large TV screen. “That asshole is not part of us, Tony. This is bullshit.”

Steve had to fight the snort at the utter look of disgust on his wife’s face. She despised the man, for no other reason than she thought he was an arrogant prick. That said, he knew if he didn’t calm her down, that infamous temper was going to really boil over and that wouldn’t be helpful to anyone.

“Come on.” He stepped forward and placed his hand on her shoulder in an attempt to placate her. “He’s here now so let’s listen and see what he has to say.” She pulled a face which was a cross between annoyance and disappointment aimed directly at Tony as she shot him one last glare and allowed Steve to guide her towards a chair, his large hand in the small of her back. She flopped down, angrily, her nostrils flaring as she looked away from everyone, out of the glass walls of the room. This was a shitty stunt for Tony to pull. Whilst she knew Tony wasn’t opposed to some form of sanctions, the fact that he was seemingly already involved in drafting them without discussing it with any of them, didn’t sit well with her at all, but what worried her more was the fact that he and Steve were undoubtedly now going to be majorly at odds over all this, which in itself was going to test team loyalties.

And make her life a bigger pain in the ass than it already was.

Wanda and Vision arrived shortly after and once they were all seated Steve’s hand slid onto Katie’s thigh under the table. She squeezed his fingers gently as Ross cleared his throat and looked at the assembled team, before beginning to speak.

“Five years ago, I had a heart attack. I dropped right in the middle of my backswing.”

Shame you got up, Katie thought to herself.

“Turned out it was the best round of my life, because after thirteen hours of surgery and a triple bypass I found something forty years in the Army had never taught me: Perspective.” Ross continued.

I wonder how many Post Its I can staple to his head...Katie considered the question for a moment, deciding that eight, one for each of the original Avengers and an extra for good luck, should do it.

“The world owes the Avengers an unpayable debt. You have fought for us, protected us, risked your lives… but while a great many people see you as heroes, there are some… who would prefer the word “vigilantes”.

“And what word would you use, Mr. Secretary?” Katie asked, unable to contain herself anymore. Steve’s hand gave her knee a gentle squeeze in an attempt to calm her down.

“How about “dangerous”?” Ross responded, not flinching at her question.

Fuck the staples, let’s use nine inch nails.

“What would you call a group of US-based Enhanced individuals who routinely ignore sovereign borders and inflict their will wherever they choose and who, frankly, seem unconcerned about what they leave behind?”

Ok, so now Steve was starting to get slightly uncomfortable. He stared at Ross, his chin resting on his left hand, jaw set. Ross then activated the screen behind him. News footage from past missions and SHIELD matters began to flash as he spoke.

“New York. Washington DC. Sokovia.”

Katie swallowed and her hand tightened around Steve’s. He knew Ultron and Sokovia had affected her more than she tried to let on. She took a deep breath and then the footage stopped and flicked to the latest incident in…

“Lagos.”

As footage of the burning building morphed into a shot of a dead girl, Steve glanced up at Wanda and saw her bottom lip began to wobble. The Captain took a deep breath, his face dark as thunder as he looked at Ross, gently bringing his fist down to rest on the table.

“Okay. That’s enough.” He spoke firmly.

Ross nodded to the aide, and the images disappeared.

“For the past four years, you’ve operated with unlimited power and no supervision. That’s an arrangement the governments of the world can no longer tolerate. But I think we have a solution.” Ross spoke as the aide handed him a thick book. He slid it across the table to Wanda. She picked it up, then slid it to Rhodey.

“The Sokovia Accords. Approved by 117 countries. It states that the Avengers shall no longer be a private organization. Instead, they’ll operate under the supervision of a United Nations panel, only when and if that panel deems it necessary.” Ross explained.

It was worse than they had imagined. They’d expected to be subject to some kind of regulations, rules, a code of conduct. Not overt Governmental Control. This would essentially make the Avengers another branch to an army, and Steve wanted no part of that. Keeping his voice level he looked up at Ross. “The Avengers were formed to make the world a safer place. I feel we’ve done that”.

“Tell me, Captain, do you know where Thor and Banner are right now?”

Why use nine-inch nails when you could use a javelin? Katie glared at Ross a Steve took a deep breath, glancing down at the table.

“If I misplaced a couple of thirty megaton nukes you can bet there’d be consequences. Compromise. Reassurance. That’s how the world works. Believe me, this is the middle ground.”

“So, there are contingencies?” Rhodey asked.

His question was left hanging.

“Three days from now, the UN meets in Vienna to ratify the Accords.” Ross carried on. “Talk it over.”

Katie glanced over her shoulder at Tony, at the same time as Steve did too. He was behind them, in the corner of the room. His brown eyes locked onto Katie’s as she shook her head at him. He looked away and then Natasha turned to Ross.

“And if we come to a decision you don’t like?” She asked the question that no one else had dared to.

“Then you retire.” Ross smirked at her before he made his exit, flanked by his aide.

“Glad that clears things up.” Katie muttered, standing up. “Oh no you stay right there!” She pointed at Tony as he also made to leave. “What the fuck, Tony?”

“So much for coming to discuss potential ways forward.” Steve stood behind his wife, eyeing his brother in law, his nostrils flaring in anger. “Instead you help issue us with an ultimatum”

“Can I suggest you take time to read them first?” Tony sighed. “You know, before you hang, draw and quarter me.”

“I’m assuming from your use of the word, you, that you have already read them?” Katie looked at him. Tony stayed silent for a moment, before he groaned.

“I need a drink.”

With that he left the room and Steve looked round at his team, all eyes on him, waiting for direction. He took a deep breath. “Take ten guys, and we’ll meet in the communal lounge.”

**** Chapter 29 Part 2

#stark spangled banner #steve rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fic #steve rogers x original female character #steve rogers x ofc #Katie Stark #mcu #mcu fanfic #steve rogers smut #chris evans #chris evans characters

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matildashoney · 4 years

Text

Loving You’s the Antidote: Chapter Six

MASTERLIST

MOODBOARD // PREV/IEW(S) // TAG LIST // TAGS // PLAYLIST

TAG LIST: @ihearthemcallingforyou, @cock-a-doodely-doo

WARNING: CHAPTER INCLUDES SEXUAL CONTENT.

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Sunday Dinner.

One day a week that was designated for the family to gather around – especially now that two out of three of the children have left the nest – and have a nice, home-cooked dinner and dessert and a film that everyone has seen one too many times.

Mom and Dad’s house never changed. Always the same tinted beige on the siding, a gentle baby blue shutter outside every window, the colourful florals filling the boxes on the top floor. Dad wanted the Southern Charm. Mom wanted a taste of Paris. They settled on something near California twang. On the interior, Mom made home. All of the walls decorated with family portraits and your paintings and the photographs that Grandma gave her on her very last visit. All of it – the cracks in the wood, the chips in the paint, crooked frames – was home.

Dad and Brandon are in the living room, Mom outside tending to the garden of vegetables that would begin blooming in the near future, Phoebe in her bedroom talking about something One Direction-related obnoxiously.

Hiding Harry – and the relationship she has with him – away from Phoebe might be the hardest part.

“Hello, hello,” Mom quips as Amelie walks inside, toeing her shoes at the carpet and laying her bag on the makeshift table, the golden trotting to her side to greet her. “Dad’s in the living room with B. Phoebe is upstairs. Have everything almost done!”

Mom is clad in her favourite Sunday Outfit – the necessarily painted jeans, a white blouse, and her favourite slippers that she purchases from a tiny shop in the outskirts of Paris every time she visits home. Her hair is greying ginger, and although she loves it, she refuses to colour it. Makes me feel wise, sweetheart.

“Mama,” Amelie says hesitantly, kissing her cheek, sitting on the chipping barstools – her idea was that every year her children would repaint their barstool, and eventually all the paint would become an eclectic memory – and taking a sliver of the tomato chopped on the cutting board, “j'ai besoin de votre aide pour quelque chose.”

Mama, I need your help with something.

Mom sets the knife down, her palms flat on the counter, her light green eyes staring into her daughter’s. “Qu'est-ce qui ne va pas?”

“Know how I told you that I started seeing someone,” Amelie begins, her heart pounding in her chest, her cheeks flushed with her anxiety and the anticipation. “He’s in Melbourne, right now. He’ll be there for Valentine’s Day.”

“Okay,” Mom urges, her attention moving to the exaggerated shouting in the living room from her husband and eldest.

“I,” she stutters, her palms sweaty and sticking to her jeans, her tongue wetting her chapped lips, “I think I want to go see him.”

“Chéri,” Mom coos, walking around the counter and settling on the stool nearest to her, taking her hands in hers and drawing circles with her thumbs, “qui est ce garçon?”

“His name is Harry,” she murmurs, laying her phone on the counter and showing her their favourite picture from his birthday a week earlier. “He’s on tour.”

Mom’s eyes are wide, fully aware of who Harry is. Her mouth is slightly agape, her hand covering her parted lips as she stares at the picture – Harry kissing Amelie’s cheek, his arms wrapped around her waist, her hands covering her eyes. Her cheeks shade a light pink, her sigh sounding in a tone of awe.

“That’s the Harry from Phoebe’s band, yeah? One Direction,” Mom says quietly, her voice barely above a whisper, ensuring that her youngest wouldn’t hear and interrupt the conversation. “Comment as-tu réussi ce coup, mon amour?”

“No idea, Mama,” she sighs, a smile tugging at her lips as his contact swipes across the screen with a message. “He’s so good to me.”

Good morning, doll. Have fun at family dinner. Call me when you’re home. x

“You love Harry,” Mom smiles, kissing her hair sweetly, standing from the crooked stool and reaching for her laptop, opening the screen and gathering all the information for a flight. “Nona did this for me, especially when Dad flew to North Carolina for that film. Great Grandma did that Nona when she wanted to take the train to Papa in Paris for the weekend.”

“Didn’t know that Nona took a train to Paris for Papa,” Amelie murmurs, typing in the information for the airport that Glenne had given her the day before. “You flew to North Carolina for Dad.”

“Il faut savoir ce que tu veux et aller le chercher, chérie.” Mom pokes her head into the living room, Dad grinning ear to ear to see her, Brandon waving towards her as Daisy nudges at his hand to pet her. “En utilisant la carte de crédit, mon amour.”

“Okay,” Dad hums, standing to give her a kiss. “Guessing by how quiet you are, I shouldn’t say anything to Phoebe or B.”

“Our secret,” Mom smirks, kissing his cheek sweetly. “Doing what Mama asked us to do like they did for us. Giving her a chance.”

“Good.” Dad squeezes her into a hug, Mom melting into him. “Hi, honeybee.”

“Hi, Dad.”

“Oh mon Dieu,” Mom squeaks, rushing to the stove and quieting the heat, ensuring that the meal wouldn’t burn. “All the time.”

“J'ai failli brûler sa cuisine la semaine dernière,” she giggles, shaking your head at the memory. “Not fully burnt down, but I definitely burnt our chicken and ordered us pizza, instead.”

“Happens to the best, and worst, of us.”

“No longer allowed in his kitchen unless I’m supervised,” she laughs, her attention turning to the doorway where her youngest sister stood with her arms crossed and a scowl on her face. “Oh, what’s wrong, Pheebs? You look like someone told you a concert got cancelled.”

“Have a show on Valentine’s Day and Cassie was supposed to livestream and apparently the internet in the arena is being worked on,” Phoebe sighs, hugging her momentarily and settling onto the stool beside her, her eyes squinting suspiciously as she closes her phone and lays it beneath her thigh. “Cancelled going to a party so I could watch with Cass.”

“Can’t you still go to the party? Not like you were uninvited,” she reasons, her heart beginning to beat heavily in her chest with anxiety.

Does Phoebe know already?

“Guess so,” she sighs frustratedly, shaking her head and heaving a breath with annoyance. “I’ll probably stay home and wait for updates, anyways.”

Mom’s eyes meet hers, Have you told her?

Of course not, she mouths, forcing a smile as her younger sister takes the cutlery and sets it along the table.

“God, you’ve gotten weirder since you turned twenty.”

Have to tell her soon, Mom whispers, kissing Phoebe’s hair as she takes the decorated plates and begins laying each on their designated mat – the ones that we painted every year that we needed a new change in the kitchen aura – to accompany the meal.

Know that and I will, she swears, her eyes meeting her younger sister and opening her arms for a hug, smiling as she stalks towards her with a pout on her lips. “I’m sure someone will livestream the show, Pheebs.”

“I’m just annoyed,” she grumbles, leaning her cheek on her sister’s shoulder and having her arms hang loosely around her torso. “Can I be an adult already and get to travel to see all of my favourite shows whenever I want, already?”

“Don’t think that’s how it works,” Amelie hums, stifling her laughter against her hand, her lips tucking into her mouth to mask your smile.

“Harry would probably pay for his girlfriend’s flight to visit him. Niall, too,” she groans. “That is such an unfair thing. There is someone out there that gets to love Harry Styles.”

Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god.

“Enough with the impending doom until after supper, Phoebe,” Mom muses, shaking her head and walking into the living room to tell Dad and B. Her wink towards her telling her that she could see the anxiety on her face, encouraging her to relax.

Having – more or less – hippies as a mother and father, Family Dinner is certainly something other than functional and orderly.

Mom talks about the novel she sent to the editor earlier in the week, one more approval needed to finalise one section of the publication contract. Dad mentions in passing that he has to be at a film set early in the morning for the promotional campaign shoot. Heads turn as Brandon brings up asking Autumn – his girlfriend since the age of thirteen – to marry him. Phoebe complains about not seeing Harry and Niall as soon as she wanted. Congratulations ensued as Amelie mentions that the mural at the bakery is complete and perfected.

I’ll take you to the airport, Mom whispers as Amelie hugs her goodbye. Her petite body wraps tightly around hers, squeezing her tightly. You should tell Phoebe before someone else tells her.

Calling Harry on her way home, her mind is racing with all that her mother said, all that her sister said, all that she has to be done before she leaves in a mere three days.

Harry talks quietly in the background as she readies herself for the night, her hair strung in a towel and one of the band’s tour shirts clinging to her damp skin, her lips coated with her – and his – favourite chapstick. He mentions the flowers that are outside his hotel, how the season is so much brighter than London. He asks about Mom and Dad, Phoebe and Brandon. One day I’ll bring you out here, Harry says.

All that replays in her mind is her mother’s words, and the flight confirmation sitting in her email.

Have to know what you want and get it, honey.

/ / /

“Welcome to Melbourne,” the flight attendant announces on the speaker, the lights slowly beginning to brighten and wake the sleeping guests scattered about the plane. Amelie’s carry on is tucked in the overhead bin, an older gentleman offering to get it for her as she struggled to reach.

If Harry was here, he’d be making fun of you for being too short.

Amelie sinks into Harry’s sweatshirt, smirking at the fact that her father would be seething with her wearing a Greenbay Packers anything. Her fingers quickly type on the screen, Harry’s name with an accompanying picture at the centre.

Need your hotel and room number, please and thank you. Don’t ask questions.

Harry takes a minute to respond and Amelie can see the expression on his face, the furrowed eyebrows and squinted eyes, his bottom lip pulled between his fingertips.

The Langham, Room 702. I’m about to get in the shower. Should I stay out a bit longer?

Her mouth curves into a smile as she notices a bouquet selection near the exit. Her attention immediately goes to the sunflowers and daisies in the corner, paying and quickly making her way outside to meet the security guard that Niall arranged with her.

Give it like twenty minutes.

His response comes immediately, the suspicion evident in his text. He doesn’t question her, simply responding and taking a seat on the unmade bed. He shuts the water in the shower, heaving a breath and sinking into the mattress, trying to think through everything.

Alright.

Laying there is unbearable, Harry standing up and beginning to pace around his bedroom nervously. He can’t quite grasp the idea of her coming to Melbourne. That would be simply impossible with university and the artwork projects and family dinners.

That would be impossible, wouldn’t it?

Although unlikely, twenty minutes felt like hours. Harry wasn’t a patient person. He became bored easily and the idea of having to wait for something his girlfriend was surprising him with, and being without a single idea, gave him a headache.

His ears perk to the knocking on his suite door, quiet chatter outside, his feet padding against the carpet and his hands yanking a stray shirt over his naked torso. His chest deflates at the sight of Niall holding a bouquet of sunflowers and daisies – certainly from her.

“How–”

“Quite the selection they have at the airport,” Amelie squeaks, laying her miniature knapsack against the wall and smiling, her arms wrapping around his shoulders as his arms circle her waist, squeezing her into him as tightly as physically possible. “Harry, I can’t breathe.”

“Bye, you two,” Niall smirks, handing Harry the bouquet and turning to return to his suite.

Harry chuckles, releasing his grip on her slightly, taking the bouquet from his friend and nudging her bag inside with his foot, his arm continuing to stay wrapped around her and hugging her to his chest. “Sorry, I’ve just missed you.”

“Missed you, too,” she whispers, closing the door behind her, his cheeks taken in her hands, her lips moulding to his and soaking in his kiss, the bouquet set on the nearby table, his fingertips gripping her hips. “Glad you didn’t shower and leave me out there.”

“Would never do that to you,” he smirks, his thumbs tracing her bottom lip, stealing a kiss innocently. “Can’t believe you’re here.”

“One very long flight later,” she smirks, kissing his cheek and jaw sweetly, her arms squeezing him tighter in her embrace. “Good thing I sleep on planes.”

“Forty fucking hours, love,” Harry whispers, gently nudging her cheek, his mouth moulding onto hers and savouring the way she kisses him.

Amelie smiles against his lips, obsessed with the way his reaction made her heart swell against her chest and heat radiate on her skin. “Considering I can wake up with you on Valentine’s Day, it’ll be worth it.”

“Tell me you didn’t bring that knapsack and that’s it.”

“Had to check into m’room and shower, first,” she says, lightly tugging on the curls and kissing the vein in his neck, smiling at his moan as her lips touch the centre and nip at his skin. “All of m’stuff is there.”

“You’re not staying in another room,” Harry breathes shakily, his hands travelling across her hips and squeezing her bum. “You’ll stay with your boyfriend.”

“Know that but I needed to get here without you finding out,” she smirks, a heavy breath leaving her lips as his mouth begins mapping kisses along her neck, biting into the skin and marking her, their bodies walking backwards into the bedroom, his hands gently nudging her against the wall.

“Must’ve cost loads,” Harry mutters, his lips sweetly kissing her jaw. “You’re not allowed to buy another plane ticket to see me. I’ll get it.”

“Can thank Mom for me being here,” Amelie sighs, adoring the feeling of his mouth on her, the way his fingertips dig into her hips, holding her tightly to him. “Bought m’flight and all that. Came from a whole story about women in m’family travelling for their men. Apparently, it’s a thing they do. Take chances on nice guys, and all that.”

“Oh,” Harry smirks cockily at that, his teeth dragging her bottom lip as he kisses her hungrily, the briefs beginning to feel all too tight against his cock and tensing thighs. “’m a nice guy to take a chance on, then?”

“Think so,” Amelie moans, her eyelashes laying against her cheeks, all her thoughts hyper-focused on Harry’s hands trailing beneath her – his – sweatshirt, his thumbs tracing over the curves of her breasts. “Can feel you trying to distract me about the flight.”

“Give up on paying for your next flight,” Harry says sternly, silently praising the way there wasn’t a lacy bralette to get in his way. “Quicker you do that, quicker you’ll have the best shag of your life on that unmade bed, over there.”

“Fine.”

“My sweatshirt, hm?” Harry smirks, gently taking the material and tossing it onto the carpet, the cotton leggings adoring her hips rubbing uncomfortably against his hips. Her lips suck at the skin on his collarbone, the skin bright red and adorning a temporary mark.

“You left it,” Amelie mutters against him. Her thighs tense at the feeling of his fingertips ghosting across the lace waistband of her panties, his thumbs tucked into the material and dragging it slightly. “Harry.”

“Did it on purpose.” Harry nudges Amelie against the mattress, her cheeks flushing as his eyes travel along her body, taking in every inch of her figure, the curves and the tattoos and the lines that make her. “Up,” he murmurs, smiling as she lifts her hips and her panties accompany the clothing on the ground.

Harry kisses her inner thighs sweetly, coaxing her to relax with his touch. He gently massages her hips, smiling against her skin as she breathes out an airy moan, her fingertips curling through his hair, his arms tucked under her bum to have her core meet his mouth. He lays his tongue against her heat, savouring the way she tastes so sweet, his lips suckling on her clit the way she loves.

Amelie’s moans spur him further, the moans vibrating against her making the orgasm overwhelm her senses. His fingertips tease her heat, gently inching into her and curling against the velvet walls that squeeze him, the sucking against the nerves between her thighs having her chase her orgasm with white vision and moans.

His tongue continues to lay on her heat, taking her orgasm and humming with the taste, his fingertips between his lips to have all of her. His smirk is enough to make her squeeze her thighs together, the way he is so happy to please her making her want to have him again and again and again. He sponges kisses along her inked thighs and belly, teasingly biting her nipples as his mouth works his way back to hers.

“Get on the bed,” Amelie tells him, her jaw clenched as Harry smirks and tosses the remaining clothes on his torso. “Don’t smirk at me like that.”

“Not doing anything,” Harry smirks, his cheeks tinging pink as Amelie manoeuvres around him and settles between his thighs. “Gon’a kill me looking at me like that.”

Her fingertips ghost across his thighs, her lips touching his skin, smirking against him as his hand gently takes her hair away from her face. Her tongue wets her skin, her hand gently wrapping around his cock, her thumb spreading the arousal around his shaft, his breathy moans echoing around her.

Amelie slowly eases over him, hollowing her cheeks and sucking, her tongue swirling around his throbbing tip the way he loves, her hand pumping all that she couldn’t take. Her fingertips squeeze his hip, his arousal and orgasm beginning to taste on her tongue.

“God, this is so much better than me trying to pretend it’s you,” Harry moans, his head rolling onto the pillow as her innocent eyes meet his.

“Oh, baby, you think about me,” Amelie hums, the vibrations making his hips ache and thrust into her mouth.

Harry groans as she takes all of him, his cock hitting her throat and her tongue taking his arousal. “Certainly, don’t think about m’hand.” His orgasm is reaching him quickly, his panting rapid and causing his chest to heave. “Need to be in you, doll.”

Amelie smirks, kissing the inked thigh and laying her lips across his heated skin. Harry squeezes her hips above his waist, making her pause, her breathing shaky as she realises what he’s implying. “Are you sure? Don’t wan’a hurt you.”

“Love, I promise you won’t,” Harry says shakily, moving beneath her and laying his back against the wooden headboard, his lip taken between his teeth as she gently settles on his thighs. “Go slow, I’ve got you.”

Amelie nods nervously, smiling shyly as Harry squeezes her thigh encouragingly. His hands hold her hips, coaxing her forward slightly, his cock hard and throbbing against her heat. He nudges her to lean onto her knees, his skin prickling with bumps as he gently eases into her, her warmth surrounding his shaft and squeezing him in her velvet walls.

Amelie intertwines her fingers with his, her pelvis rolling and grinding, his knees tucked behind her, his hips thrusting to meet her. Her mouth parts with her moans, the friction against the nerves between her thighs making her legs shake. Harry leans forward, his lips sponging kisses along her jaw, suckling a mark on her chest. His hands take her hips, smiling as her arms circle around his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin. His thrusts meet a rhythm with the way her hips beginning rotating, a heavy moan leaving his throat as she squeezes him, easing him out inch by inch.

“Want you deeper,” Amelie moans, meeting his mouth with a chaste kiss, his knees parting her thighs, his figure laying over hers.

Harry sinks into her, her warmth soaking him in, squeezing him tightly. He kisses her jaw, her thighs wrapped around his waist, his cock bottoming out and reaching her hit with every thrust. His orgasm is heating in his stomach, sweat sticking the curls to his forehead, her moans in his ear making him want to bust. Her thighs squeeze around his hips, holding him in her, her climax warm and milking around him. His orgasm spills inside her, his panting hot against her neck. His mouth breaks into a smile as her hands take his cheeks and her lips kiss his sweetly, her ankles slowly unlocking around his bum and laying lazily on the bed.

“Good, you’re so good,” Harry hums, gently sliding out and lying beside her. His arm slings over her waist, pulling her into his chest, his cheek laying against her shoulder. “Have you spoken to your mum since you got here?”

“Oh fuck,” Amelie swears, snagging her sweatshirt and tugging it over her torso, pulling her phone out and sending messages to her mother and best friend. “Done.”

“Care to leave the pants off for the evening,” Harry winks, laughing loudly as Amelie rolls her eyes at him. He takes his phone, smirking and beginning to type against his screen, hiding the phone away from her obnoxiously.

Laying her head on his chest, she presses a kiss to the butterfly adorning his abdomen, her cheek resting on her forearms. “What are you doing?”

“Making a list of all the places I want to shag you in.”

“God, you’re annoying.”

“That wasn’t telling me to quit.” Harry grabs her cheeks and kisses her, smirking at the way her lips perfectly adorn his at every angle. “Got to check off Aus, thank you for that.”

Amelie hides her face in her hands, trying to mask the smile that is etched into her features. Only a few weeks ago she was telling him that she couldn’t understand why he stared at her in such a way, and now she can feel herself doing the same. “Have any plans for Valentine’s Day, Mr Styles?”

“Considering m’girlfriend is here,” he hums, carding his fingers through her hair and delicately brushing the stray hairs away from her forehead, her fringe freshly cut and swaying beneath her eyebrows, her lips tinted red with the kisses. “Have a few thoughts in mind.”

“Dirty thoughts, I’m assuming.”

“Could be,” he drawls teasingly, his eyes narrowing at her as she pinches his hip. “Have a show on Valentine’s Day, so could we makeshift tomorrow to be our Valentine’s Day? Have breakfast and an early swim, avoid all the crowds. Only us.” His eyes brighten with her smile. Harry loves seeing Amelie happy. “Can plan something special for dinner, later on.”

“Good thing I brought something nice to wear," Amelie smiles, heaving a sigh as she straddles Harry’s thighs and slips off the bed, giggling at his groans and complaint of her leaving. “Have a dress for tomorrow.”

“Ooh,” Harry hums, following her into the bathroom and leaning against the wall, admiring away she mills about the space, gathering her toiletries and pyjamas for the night. “Haven’t seen you in a dress before.”

“Only on special occasions.”

“Love that you consider me a special occasion,” he says, walking towards her as she turns the water on in the porcelain bath, testing the temperature with her fingers. He wraps his arms around her waist, kissing the sweet spot at the nape of her neck, smirking against her skin as she shivers. “What are you doing?”

“Need a bath, I’m sticky.” Her words spew out without thinking and her eyes roll as soon as she feels Harry’s smirk against her skin. “Harry, don’t you dare say something.”

“Didn’t say a word, doll.” He kisses her shoulder, releasing her from his grasp and walking to the shower, the water sputtering against the glass. “Want to take a shower with me? Warm in there.”

“Having you as a distraction in there? No thank you.”

“And you think I won’t distract you in the bathtub,” Harry scoffs, shaking his head and clicking his tongue, walking to the tub and turning off the faucet, taking her hand in his and smirking as she reluctantly walks with him. “Think very highly of me, love.”

“Hope to have a minute of peace, in here, that’s all,” Amelie moans, her eyelashes fluttering against her cheeks as he kisses her cheek, patting her bum to get into the shower.

“Not gon’a happen,” he chuckles, shutting the door as he steps inside. He smiles widely, taking in the way the water falls over her and her fringe clings to her forehead. They’ve not showered together before, only staying in the bathroom while the other bathed, and there was something intimate about the experience and the way Amelie trusts him enough to do so. “Did you have a nice flight, at least? Layover somewhere, I’m assuming,” he says, taking the shampoo and squirting the liquid into her hand.

“Mhm,” she hums, lathering her hair and soaking in the warmth around them. Harry is the first man she’s ever showered with, and the thought about how much she truly trusted him made her anxiety heighten. Begging her brain to quiet down, she asks the thoughts to leave her alone and have her enjoy the moment. “Slept everywhere I could.”

“Knowing you,” Harry winks, nudging Amelie’s hip and rinsing the soap smoothly, his eyes drifting across her body as her sponge coats her skin with bubbles, “that sounds about right.”

“Brought a bathing suit with me,” Amelie mutters, playfully pushing his chest to move under the water. “Only go to the beach a few times a year so you better take your opportunity to see me in a swimsuit and run with it.”

“Happily.” He kisses her cheek, stepping out of the shower and wrapping a towel around his waist, grabbing a new one for her from the stack near the sink. He admires her as she wraps the cotton around her figure, her hair clinging to her skin, her face slightly flushed from the heat. He tugs her into a hug, smiling as she wraps her arms around him. He’s learnt that she loves the unexpected hugs, the affection that is genuine and means something to the other person. His nose smells her hair, the scent that he could only describe as her lingering in the air. “Ooh, you smell good.”

“Compliment central, over here,” she smirks, kissing his shoulder and squeezing his hips. Amelie presses her lips to his cheeks to compensate for the lack of touch, his lips pouting as she shuffles into the bedroom to grab the sweatshirt and panties from her knapsack, her towel strung around her hair to dry.

“Can’t help a crush, love,” Harry says, yanking a pair of sweatpants up his legs, the waistband low on his hips and displaying the ferns that she loved to trace. “Huge one at that, doll.”

“Hm,” Amelie hums, taking her hairbrush out and beginning to comb through the ends. “You’re staring.”

“Le’ me brush your hair,” he says, coaxing the brush and nodding towards the mattress with messy sheets and a duvet. They couldn’t be bothered to make a mess beneath the comforter, too caught up in the moment. He smiles at her, taking in the way she situates herself between his thighs as he centres himself on the bed. “I’ll be gentle.”

“Okay,” she agrees, tilting her head back and smiling, her heart swelling in her chest as he gently kisses her lips, her nose, her forehead. “Hi.”

“Hi, love.” Harry turns on the television, delicately combing through her wet hair and soaking in the simplicity and intimacy of the moment. He never envisioned himself the kind to desire the moments like these, the ones that were simply him and the one he adores – loves – taking in the silence around them. “You look beautiful.”

“Currently in pyjamas,” Amelie says, shocked in the way that Harry could be so easily impressed by the simplest of things.

“Okay, and,” he says, setting the hairbrush on the bedside table and running his fingers through her hair, smirking as he notices her closed eyes and parted lips. He kisses her cheek, his thumb drawing a line along her jaw. “Don’t nod off when ’m talking to you, you cheeky thing. You’re gon’a kill m’ego."

Amelie squeezes his knee, barely opening her eyes to meet his stare. The way Harry looks at her makes her want to melt. No one has ever looked at her like that. “Your voice is soothing; I like listening to you.”

“Can read to you if you wanted,” Harry offers, moving his arm to have her manoeuvre onto her side, her hair tucked into the hood of the sweatshirt as she shares his pillow. Amelie isn’t a fan of cuddling at night, especially when she’s feeling far away, but she never strays too far. “’m halfway through your book.”

“Are you? How are you feeling about it?” she wonders curiously, her voice quieting as she begins to drift to sleep. “Careful, this is my favourite book you’re about to bash.”

“Like it,” Harry assures her. “Quite fitting with your fucked-up romance theme you go for.” He chuckles quietly as her chest heaves with heavy breaths. “Are you going to fall asleep while I read to you?”

“Most likely,” Amelie murmurs, taking his hand and squeezing it, kissing his palm sweetly before letting go, her hands tucking under her cheek as she snuggles beneath the duvet. “Goodnight, baby.”

“Night, love.”

Harry opens the novel besides the bed, the cracked spine folding beneath his fingertips. He opens to the bookmarked page, smiling as a highlighted quote catches his eye.

“And then she kisses me. It's the kind of kiss that makes me lose track of everything, and so it may take hours or minutes by the time we break apart.”

Harry admires the waves crashing ashore, the sun shining brightly in the sky, the golden hue tanning their skin as they lay peacefully and privately on their towels. He found the perfect spot – so he believes – away from the suspecting and invading eye, secluded and private to allow them to simply be alone. Amelie lays beside him, her sunglasses tucked on her nose, her cheek resting on her forearms as she stares at him, taking in the olive tone and tinted tattoos.

“Could you put more sunscreen on me, baby?” Amelie questions, handing him the bottle and smiling as the top clicks open.

“Mhm,” Harry hums, squirting the cream in his hands and beginning to rub it into her skin. His hands go beneath the band, his fingers searching for a clasp to unhook. “Can’t unclasp the top, love.”

“Not meant to,” she smirks, shaking her head and clicking her tongue disapprovingly as his bottom lip juts into a pout. “Know you, Styles. Knew what you were going to do.”

“I am insulted, love.” His voice feigns his innocence, the glimmer in his clearly displaying his true intentions. “How dare you think so lowly of me!”

“Mhm,” Amelie muses, playfully smacking his thigh as his hands travel closer to her bum. “Hands above the waist in public.”

“Have to ruin our makeshift Valentine’s Day, huh.”

“You got laid two hours ago! How am I ruining Valentine’s Day?”

“Wan’a see your boobies,” Harry mutters, gently tugging at the edge of the bathing suit, his lips tucked together to stifle the laughter.

“Harry, boobies, really?” Amelie groans, nudging his hand away from her chest, rotating her head slightly to stare at him. “Are you thirteen?”

“Find that saying, ‘wan’a see your tits’ is quite crude to your girlfriend, so,” he muses, smacking her bum playfully as he stands on his feet, his toes tucked in the sand, his hair shaking out on her freshly coated skin. “Okay, I’m going for a swim. Have fun without me.”

“You’re unbearable,” she grumbles, trying to hide her smirk through a bitten lip, her heart sinking as he begins to walk away. “Wait.”

“Hm,” Harry hums, turning around and walking back to her, leaning down to meet her.

“Kiss?”

“Always,” he smiles, kissing her lightly, her strawberry chapstick lingering on his skin.

She admires him as he treads into the water, the clarity of the water exhibiting the tattoos that marked his skin, the way his eyes reflected through the sun. Her forehead lines with sweat, her body begging to have the relief of the cool water around her. She hesitates though, the idea of showing her body so freely intimidating and making her question her apparel choice. Harry looks perfect in the infamous yellow trunks, the colour bright on his skin and simply great on him.

Her eyes couldn’t leave him.

“Come in here, Ames,” Harry calls, his eyes travelling around the area to make sure attention wasn’t called on them. He didn’t want her to be intimidated by a crowd and the rumours and headlines that were bound to come about. He lowers his voice, his words only travelling to where she could hear. “Water is so lovely.”

“Fine, fine,” Amelie concedes, standing up and beginning to walk towards the water, shaking her head and hiding her face in her hands as he whistles. He would never whistle at a woman; however, it was apparent that her confidence was weary. He would do anything to make her feel like the most confident woman. “Ames, hm.”

“Ames,” he says confidently, taking her hand and bringing her to him, her arms wrapping around his shoulders, his hands holding her waist tightly. “You like it?”

“Never had a nickname before,” she mentions, pursing her lips as she traces through her memories and searching for anything that her family or friends might have called her beyond her name. “Only nicknames m’family has given me are honeybee and chéri.”

“Honeybee for the flowers, right?” Harry asks this for confirmation, the way he pays attention to every detail Amelie tells him, butterflies swirling in her belly at the thought. “And the other.”

“Chéri means honey or darling,” Amelie tells him, her accent rhythmic as the words roll off her tongue. “Mom likes using names like that.”

“Cute,” he smiles, kissing her cheek and hugging her tighter to his chest, waves lightly crashing into their backs, barely reaching his hips. “Happy you’re here, doll.”

“Me too.”

Harry presses his lips to Amelie’s, smiling as her arms hug tighter around his shoulders. He is grateful for the privacy, wanting to show her that she deserves to have someone that loves on her around anyone. He is nervous though, he would have to admit; media can be absolutely brutal, and the last thing he would want is to have someone hurt her through a lousy magazine or social media posting. He cherishes the kiss, the easiest affection. He could kiss her for hours.

“You seem to really love it here,” Amelie says, kissing his cheek, her legs quickly moving to her chest as a jellyfish moves past them. Harry gently grabs her thighs, trying to coax her into circling around him completely. “Harry.”

“Hm,” Harry sighs, his thumbs gently rubbing her skin as he awaits her answer – although he is sure he already knows.

“Don’t.” Her voice is quiet as she shakes her in disapproval, her eyes scanning beneath them for the fish, her legs slowly slinking towards the sand. “’m too heavy.”

“Says who?” he wonders, his voice slightly exasperated and confused. He is angry, frustrated with whoever would tell her such a thing, make her believe that there is something about her that would make her not fit enough for affection. “Doll, who said that? They’re wrong.”

“I –” Her voice cracks and Harry knows exactly who’s done this. He would do anything to have a talk with Jack, to really get inside the boy’s head and see how anyone could treat another human this way, especially one that deserves nothing but love.

“Hey, you don’t need to think about that with me.”

Let me love you, please.

“Harry, I’m trusting you,” Amelie breathes, taking a deep breath and releasing the tension in her muscles, allowing Harry to coax her thighs around his waist, his arms tucked under her bum and holding her to him. He kisses her cheek a smile on his lips as she begins to relax.

“Appreciate that more than you know,” Harry says, his lips delicate on her skin. “I’ve got you. Always do.”

In that very moment, Amelie chooses to believe him.

Amelie paces around the bedroom, her suitcase strewn across the lounger, her outfit for the evening set out neatly on the made bed. Her anxiety is echoing in her brain, her heart pounding heavily against her ribcage, her jaw tense as she stares at the multiple ignored calls with her sister. Harry is partially undressed, getting ready to shower, leaning uselessly on the mattress. He absolutely hates seeing her this way. He would love to take the stress and negative thoughts away.

He sighs, walking over to her and gently grabbing her shoulders, his hands cupping her cheeks and making her meet his stare, his lips touching her forehead to calm her. “Don’t worry, love,” Harry says softly, trying his best to calm her. “Aren’t Phoebe’s friends coming to the show, tomorrow? Maybe they’re all talking.”

“Guess so,” Amelie sighs, leaning into his chest, his arms embracing her. He taps her spine lightly, nodding to the vibrating phone set on the dresser behind them. “Maybe that’s her.”

“I’ll leave you to it.”

Quickly taking her phone, she sighs heavily, sliding her thumb across the screen and waiting to have the video connect to speak. “Hey, Phoebe.”

Hi, Phoebe, Harry whispers, nodding towards the shower and walking into the bathroom, quietly shutting the door behind him and turning on the vent, the water sputtering on and hitting the tiles.

“Hey,” Phoebe murmurs, her lips pursed together, her cheek leaning against her fist.

“Are you alright? You’ve been avoiding my calls,” Amelie says, her voice barely above a whisper, the anxiety beginning to overwhelm her.

Phoebe found out. Phoebe found out and now she’s mad at you. You’re the worst sister. She’s going to hate you.

“You’re there, in Melbourne,” Phoebe sighs, blinking slowly and taking a deep breath, trying to gather all of her thoughts and emotions. Phoebe wasn’t mad at Amelie. How could she be? Her sister fell in love, that was obvious. Having a relationship, after everything, is what she deserved. Her lying about it, that’s what upset her. “Valentine’s Day is tomorrow.”

“Not sure what you’re getting at.”

“At dinner, on Sunday, you said you were seeing someone.” Her voice is flat, lacking all emotion, her eyes a bare blue, lacking their shine and glimmer that light everyone’s day. That breaks Amelie’s heart. “It’s Harry. You’re seeing Harry Styles.”

“Phoebe,” Amelie begins, quickly quieting as Phoebe opens her mouth to speak. Her intention was to listen, to not upset her any further.

“Don’t lie to me.”

“Wanted to tell you, I did,” Amelie says honestly, tears prickling her eyes as she takes in the hurt on her sister’s face. “How did you find out?”

“Cassie is a barista at the café on the private beach,” Phoebe sighs, running her fingers through her hair and shaking her head. “Could see Harry a mile away with those yellow trunks. On the way out, she wanted to see if he was still there, maybe she could say hello or something. There Harry was, standing over a girl, shaking his wet hair out, laughing. Cass took a picture and sent it to me. Whoever she is, Harry looks really happy, is what she told me.”

“Cassie posted it,” Amelie chokes, her anxiety rushing with thoughts that spring tears in her eyes.

Oh my god, everyone is going to find out. Everyone is going to find out and the bullying, the harassing, everything is going to start before you and Harry could even make it to two months together.

“Of course not,” Phoebe assures her, her heart breaking as soon as Amelie begins breathing heavier. “As soon as Cassie texted me the photo, everything made more sense. Mama showed me the picture you sent her of the beach, the hotel. All of it looked the same as the pictures people posted online. Knew it then. I told her that she could not post it.”

“Oh,” Amelie breathes, the sweat on her forehead beginning to dry.

“Hurts me that you didn’t tell me, Amelie. You’re my sister, my best friend. We tell each other everything,” Phoebe sighs,

“Phoebe, I.” Amelie has nothing to say.

“Are you happy?”

Amelie goes absolutely silent, pursing her lips together and lightly nodding her head. Harry steps into the room, a shy smile on his lips as he nods, telling her everything without a word.

“Are you happy? Are you and Harry happy?” Phoebe repeats, desperate to emphasise her meaning. Her sister deserves to be happy, whether she believes so or not. Phoebe could never be upset with her for that.

“I am,” Amelie smiles, genuinely smiling, taking a deep breath. Her honesty surprises her, the way the words are so easy to say shocking her. Happiness, like this, hasn’t been something she believed she could have. “For the first time, I am.”

“Then, I’ll be okay. You and I, we’re okay. I’m not upset.” Phoebe sucks in a breath, budding her courage in her chest. Phoebe never expected this to happen. “Put Harry on the phone.”

“Huh?”

“Tu m'avez entendu, Amelie.”

Harry’s eyes widen at the statement. He gulps, taking a deep breath and walking towards Amelie, nodding approvingly and settling on the bed beside her.

“Um, Phoebe wants to talk to you,” Amelie mutters, giving him the phone and nodding towards the bathroom. “’m gon’a go take a shower.” Grabbing her towel and nervously treading into the en-suite, she shuts the door slightly, barely enough space to hear.

Harry clears his throat, taking a deep breath before beginning. He can see that Phoebe is shaking. “Know that you’re mad at us, and I’m sorry.”

“Not mad,” Phoebe says nervously, her thoughts jumbled and trying to comprehend who is speaking to her on the screen. Never would she have thought that this would be the way she would him. “Just a little upset.”

“Understand if you are mad, because Amelie and I made the decision not to tell anyone, and that included you,” he sighs, scratching his neck nervously. “’m sorry you had to find out by someone else, but you should know that you not speaking to her is making her really upset.”

“Has Amelie gone in the shower yet?”

“Mhm,” Harry nods, unsure where the conversation is heading, accepting it, nonetheless.

“Do you know about Jack?” Phoebe murmurs, her voice growing quieter to ensure that Amelie wouldn’t hear. Upsetting her about him is not what she wants to be doing.

“Unfortunately, yes,” Harry mutters, desperately trying to not become angry. Hearing his name makes Harry furious.

“Amelie thinks I don’t know, and I don’t remember what happened, but I do, and I don’t ever want to see her that upset, that bad, again, okay?”

“Of course.” Harry smiles softly, admiring the way she so openly cares about her sister.

“Know you’re you and all, but that’s my sister. You can’t hurt her, okay?” Her voice is laced desperately, the concern evident in her eyes. Harry would never dream of hurting her, and he has to make sure she knows.

“Phoebe, I promise you, I won’t.”

Amelie’s eyebrows furrow together in confusion as Harry says that, her towel tucked around her hair and her body clothed in simply her panties and lace bra that he loves. Harry pats the bed, encouraging her to come closer to him.

“Not a bribe, but ‘m gon’a need you to tell me the shows you have tickets to,” Harry says, smiling as Amelie settles in the open space that he’s made for her.

“Um, San Diego and Santa Clara,” she stutters, her fingers shaking over her mouth as he hands her sister his phone and she typed in the dates for him.

“Alright. Talk soon,” Harry smirks, squeezing his girlfriend’s thigh and setting her phone in her hand, kissing her cheek, his body moving away from the mattress and taking his phone into the bathroom to busy himself until the call is over.

“Phoebe,” Amelie teases, mouthing a quiet, thank you, as Harry tosses headphones to her to talk, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. Don’t be mad.”

“Ugh,” Phoebe sighs, knuckling her eyes and taking a heavy breath. “I’m not mad. As long as you’re happy, I’m happy. Amelie, you deserve to be happy, even though you think you don’t.”

“Love you, Phoebe.”

“Love you, too,” Phoebe says quietly, turning her light off and settling under her comforter, her eyes beginning to close. “Don’t fuck this up for me, Amelie. Don’t fuck this up for you, either.”

“I’ll try not to, Pheebs, I’ll try.”

Harry reserved the most secluded section on the beach. Quiet waves crashing against the sand, twinkling lights around the posts, blankets and stray towels accompanying their picnic to lay on the cushion of the cabana, the sand slightly damp beneath their feet. Amelie can make out the chatter of the crowds in the distance, the sidewalk much too far for them to be seen.

“Like this,” Amelie smiles shyly, taking a bite of her sandwich and taking a swig from the wine settled between herself and Harry. “Quiet and very us. Nothing flashy and extravagant. That’s something I always wanted, y’know – to be happy, simply me and the other person.”

Harry presses a chaste kiss to her lips, his thumb and forefinger holding her chin, nosing her jaw with a kiss and squeezing her hand.

“Harry.”

“Hm.”

“Do you think that the stars align a certain way to make things happen? Don’t know, like, the universe wants something good to happen to someone, so the stars and the planets and moon move a certain way to make it happen,” she wonders, laying her sandwich down and leaning back on her hands, her head turned over her shoulder to look at her boyfriend, his body resting peacefully on the blanket, his head tucked on a folded towel.

“Jovian-Plutonian Effect,” Harry smirks, his eyes shining beneath the moonlight. “Think you’re mine if that counts for anything.”

“One thing I was thinking about the other day –” she begins, her eyes narrowing as his voice cracks to interrupt.

“You think about a lot of things.”

Amelie lightly smacks Harry’s arm, his laughter airy and making her heart swell against her ribcage. Her love for him is growing every day, and there is one moment every so often that makes her want to mutter the words that she swore she would never say to a man, ever again, the words that would break her heart eventually.

But you do love him, Amelie’s heart incessantly reminds her. That is something that happened. You fell in love.

“You and I,” she whispers, trailing her attention from the crashing waves to the moon lingering above them, the light casting above their illuminating skin, “whenever we’re apart, we’re staring at the same moon. It sounds stupid, I know, but there’s something comforting about that. You,” she hesitates, frightened by the words falling so easily from her lips, “you’re one of my closest friends. Don’t know, it’s just nice never feeling that far away.”

“Nothing you say is stupid. Don’t say that,” Harry sterns, gently poking her thigh to have her attention. “Only a phone call away if you need me, love,” he murmurs, taking her hand in his and kissing her knuckles. “Always looking at the same moon.”

“Know that I’ve only known you a month, but I’m proud of you. Not many people would have the courage to go on stage the way you do, travel so many weeks and months away, work the way you do. I admire you, Harry. There are so many people that you inspire, every day. I’m one of them.”

“Gon’a be honest, it’s hard sometimes, and it’s one of the only things that are truly hard. Missing m’family, you. Hope that you’ll come and join tour eventually, see what it’s like. ‘s my dream. ‘s like when your work is in an exhibit, y’know, the one place where everything makes sense. All the adrenaline and the screaming and everyone singing back to you. Nothing like it,” Harry rambles, moving the covered wine aside and kissing your knee sweetly. “Happy to make you proud, doll. You inspire me.”

“Hate being this, soft,” Amelie giggles, squeezing his hand and gently nudging their hands into his thigh. “Not very like us. Usually, you’re bothering me.”

“Don’t like sharing your emotions, I get that,” he sighs, turning over and laying his head on her thigh, smiling softly as she cards her fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp lightly. “Know that going through all that you did made you feel this way, and I’m sorry that it happened, but I want you to know that you can share things with me.”

Her eyes sting with tears, her lips pouting as Harry wipes a stray from her cheek. “Hate that Phoebe was mad at me. Honestly, it makes my stomach hurt. Didn’t want to hurt her by hiding this, us, you know? I just didn’t know how to tell her. Hard to really understand this all sometimes,” Amelie pauses, trying to find the proper wording to express herself.

Expressing yourself is hard enough on a good day.

“C’mere, baby,” Harry sighs, situating on the blanket and opening his arms, smiling as her body settles on his thighs, her arms tucked around his shoulders, his lips touching light kisses on her shoulder. He barely makes out her mumbled apology, his head moving away from her shoulder to stare. “Amelie, why are you apologising to me? You’ve done nothing wrong.”

“Crying into you because of my anxiety on a Valentine’s Day date,” Amelie laughs wetly, tears staining her cheeks, her eyes glossy as she stares into his, his thumbs drying her skin. “Hate me.”

Harry’s heart twists in his chest. He absolutely hates that Amelie feels this way. He isn’t quite sure what anxiety entails, the details and intricacies, but knowing that all of her thoughts and emotions are so deeply impacted by it hurts him. He would do anything to take it all away. “Don’t say that.” He nearly wants to mutter the three words they’ve been waiting to say. He hesitates, taking a moment to gather his thoughts back. “All I want is fo’ you to feel okay. You have me, I’m here.”

“Harry Styles.”

Her voice is airy, her hands clasped together around his neck, fingertips twirling the curls at the nape, her thumb tracing the cut of his jaw softly. Her mouth sponges kisses on his cheek, her breath hitching in her throat as his mouth steals her lips, his kiss gentle and lingering on her skin.

Harry knows that Amelie won’t verbally say more, yet the way her arms are tight around his shoulders, her mouth is rhythmic with his, their kiss taking their breath away, his hands squeezing around her torso to have her melt impossibly closer to him, tells him everything. Harry knows that Amelie trusts him, that eventually everything would be said.

All that was needed was time. Harry didn’t mind waiting.

His fingertips work at the buttons on her the dress – floral printed, naturally, his mouth kissing her shoulder as he nudges the jacket away from her torso. His mouth grew dry at the way her breasts accentuated the cut; the straps are sewn with thicker material for support beginning to slip off her shoulders. Her giggles echo in his ear, making his stomach swirl with butterflies and his heart beat so loudly he swears she could hear it.

“Quite possibly the worst idea you’ve ever had, Mr Styles,” Amelie smirks, manoeuvring her body beneath his and tugging the dress away, Harry’s shirt tossed somewhere near the basket, a sheet pulled over their bodies to hide them away, the cabana’s curtains tugged closed, the moonlight peeking through the slight cracks. “Don’t get us caught.”

“Don’t be loud,” Harry chuckles, his teeth nipping her bottom lip, her eyes rolling at his comment. “May or may not have a crush on you.”

“Considering you say that quite a bit, I think you do.” Her mouth moulds against his perfectly, a giggle leaving her lips as he fumbles to work his jeans down his thighs. “That’s what you get for wearing jeans.”

“Quit teasing me.”

“Make it so easy for me, though.”

“Quite lucky the way you flirt with me is endearing, Ames,” Harry teases, laying his jeans along with their clothes and straddling her waist, one knee tucked between her thighs, his forearms around her splayed hair.

“Call this flirting? Oh, this is nothing.”

Harry laughs, shaking his head and laying his lips on hers, soaking in the way she tastes faintly of wine and the swollenness of her flesh, her fingers lacing through his, squeezing his hand for comfort. He adores this, the way he can feel her calming. Harry savours the moment, the way their skin is clammy against each other and her thighs are wrapped around his waist, the way his heart is heavy in his chest because everything feels right.

Harry and Amelie couldn’t have pointed out the planets or the stars or the constellations underneath their makeshift blanket, their attention too obsessive with each other and the way they feel.

Although, Harry could have sworn that this is what it felt like to have Jupiter and Pluto align.

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heybenhardy · 5 years

Text

Joe Mazzello X Reader:

Finding out you’re pregnant

Containing FLUFF

You ushered Joe out of the door with a kiss goodbye, “we’ll see you tonight!” You shouted to him getting in the cab and then closing the door and heading over to the couch where Lucy was.

“You two are so sweet! I can’t believe it’s been over a year since you two got together! You were both so smitten” Lucy smirked at you and you blushed, as Lucy really being your best friend, really did know all the details of the start of your relationship when you both hid it whilst filming.

“I know Luce... I honestly can say, I’m with the man of my dreams, no one has ever treated me so well.” You told Lucy as you say either side of the couch,

“I’m happy for you girl and Rami has told me how in love Joe is with you” she told you, causing butterfly like the first time you went out.

Lucy was over at your and Joes for the day, having a catch up and later on getting you were having people come over to help you both get ready for the Golden Globes tonight. Lucy and yourself were meeting all the guys there, as they had a morning of interviews.

It was only 8am and yourself and Lucy had the tv on in the background while you chatted and made some breakfast. You both fancied avocado on toast and as Lucy sat at the island in yours and Joes kitchen, you made and dished it up...

“Y/N!” Lucy laughed, “what are you doing putting Nutella on your avocado?!”

“It’s soooo good Lucy!”

“Well, I’ll pass! You’d think you were pregnant” Lucy joked.

You didn’t even react to what Lucy had said, you may have been a little in denial. You hadn’t even suggested anything to Joe, but if even Lucy could point it out, it might be time to actually check. You had been having a few signs... sore boobs, weird cravings and uh... 3 week late period...

“Earth to, Y/N???” Lucy called, brining your attention back, even though you were now a bit wide eyed, “hold on... are you pregnant??” Lucy asked,

“It’s a possibility...? I mean I have a few signs, but Joe and I are usually quite careful” you told her,

“Usually” Lucy laughed, “come on, you need to find out!” She said hopping off the bar stool in your kitchen...

—

“Can I come in now?” Lucy asked... you opened the door to yours and Joes en-suite and returned to sitting on the side of the tub...

“Wow this really escalated” you said laughing slightly with your knee jumping up and down,

“You look worried” Lucy said

“I think I’m just nervous... we went from having a catch up and getting excited for the golden globes to you helping me find out if there’s a baby in my belly” you told Lucy, who was sat on the lid of your toilet.

1 minute left to wait for the test and Lucy squeezed your hand, “I don’t know if this helps, but with the way Joe tells Rami about you, I think he’d be over the moon to be the daddy to your baby” she told you, causing you both to instantly well up.

“Thank you Lucy. Imagine if I looked at it and it was negative and we’d both gotten so emotional over nothing” you laughed.

Your laughing was interrupted by your 3 minute alarm on your phone that freaked the both of you out. Your breath was a bit shaky and you grabbed the test faced upside down. 3..2..1 you said mentally counting yourself down before flipping it over to reveal the results

Pregnant 3+

You sat in awe at the results, somehow with all those signs and symptoms it hadn’t really crossed your mind... The shock was the reality that you’d had this baby in your belly for over 3 weeks now. Every emotion travelled through your mind and you burst out crying and showed Lucy...

“are these happy tears?!” She asked hugging you, you just nodded and cried... you had a baby in your belly. Lucy helped you up off the floor and you both sat on the bed smiling, crying, laughing and talking... “Are you going to call Joe up?” Lucy asked

“No, no... I want it to be in person and then I can tell if he’s happy or not, also I might wait until after tonight” you told her and then came up with your plan.

Both yours and Lucy’s phoned buzzed at the same time:

Group iMessage to BORHAP QUEENS from Ben Hardy:

‘Started without you girls, try catch up tonight! Let’s get wasted 😂’

*inserted with selfie of all the boys holding a glass of champagne at 11am...

“Ah crap...” you sighed to Lucy now concluding the facts that you were going to have to think of a good excuse not to drink all night.

______________________

It was 6pm and yourself and Lucy we’re approaching the venue in your cab after being all dolled up by the very wonderful team of friends who did hair and makeup when working on Bohemian Rhapsody... Approaching the venue, Lucy let the boys know where you were getting out and were meeting. You became quite nervous to see Joe... the father of yhe baby you were now carrying.

Hopping out of the cab you were embraced by all your favourite boys and finally Joe, who was taken away by your sheer beauty. “You are unbelievable.” He said with his mouth dropped, he pulled you in and kissed down your neck, “my girl” he said looking into your eyes and taking your hand to make your way down the carpet.

You hadn’t actually said much to Joe, just gotten on with the procedures of going down the carpet and now you were excited to go sit at the table with your closest friends. Sat with Lucy on one side and Joe on your other, he leant in and whispered in your ear, “darling I cannot wait to get you home tonight” nipping on your ear, you weakened at the thought and then snapped out of it realising that would he be saying that once you told him you were pregnant? To keep him out of any suspicion you just trailed your hand along his thigh and kissed him softly.

“Champagne?” A waiter chimed in, to which everyone raised their champagne flutes to get filled, causing yourself and Lucy to awkwardly shoot a look at each other, she winked at you and nudged you to pick it up. “I’ll drink it for you” and to that you held your glass and sighed a sigh of relief that your cover was not ruined.

You sat round the table and chatted away to your practically second family and Lucy swiftly took your drink and gulped it down taking one for the team, gladly, as this was the first time you seemed to be experiencing nausea... Ben laughed, “Lucy, did you just steal y/n’s champagne??” Causing all the attention to focus of the two of you,

“Please could we have another champagne?” Gwilym asked turning to the waiter that was walking by,

“No, no! I’ll just have a glass of water” you interrupted... The focus was now just on you,

“I thought we were getting wasted?!” Ben exclaimed,

“That’s not like you, baby” Joe laughed... you didn’t know what it was, but all this attention had really accelerated your emotions and you were welling up...

“Y/n! Are you alright?” Rami asked reaching his hand over to rub yours,

“Honey what’s up?” Joe asked looking worried... “I think y/n and I are just going to head out for some fresh air guys, I don’t think she’s too well” Joe said helping you stand and guiding you by the small of your back and holding you other hand to exit the crowd.

Joe had taken you back to an out of use dressing room and grabbed a bottle of water. He sat you on the couch and pulled up a chair so you were both face to face. You just watched his feet as he traced the back of your hand with his thumb... “what’s the matter honey?” Joe asked, “is it the event? Are you not well? Have I done something? Is it—?” His speech stopped when you had pulled out the test in your purse and placed it on his lap...

“surprise” you said sniffing,

“Is this real?” He asked inspecting the test,

“Yes” You told him,

“So we’re going to have a baby?”

“Yes Joe”

“And I’m going to be a dad?”

“Yes Joe”

“Wait I’m going to be a daddy?” He said finally piecing it all together... now Joe was crying, he hugged you so tight and kissed the side of your head over and over.

“I’m going to love you and our baby more than words can explain, y/n... you have made me the happiest man on this earth. I’m in love with you and our baby you are carrying” he said smiling through tears and placing his hand on your belly which wasn’t showing...

There was a knock at the door and as it opened revealed Ben, Lucy, Rami and Gwil...

“WE’RE HAVING A BABY” Joe cheered to the guys and then glanced back at you, “Wait.. was I allow to tell them?”

“Bit too late for that now Joey” you said wiping under your eyes...

Currently standing in the room were 6 blubbering messes hugging one another and celebrating your own award in this out of use dressing room...

#joemazzello x reader #joe mazzello fanfic #joe mazzello fluff #joe mazzello imagine #joe mazzello x reader #joe mazzello #borhap

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thaisibir · 4 years

Text

La Vie en Rose (Bede and young!Opal time travel fic)

La Vie en Rose (Life in Pink) Rating: T (for character deaths and language) Chapter 7/10 - A Family Torn Apart (length: ~4k words) Summary: Bede doesn’t get why that loony old bat Opal wants him to be the next Fairy-type Gym Leader. To help him understand, Opal has Celebi take Bede back to the time of her youth.

(For other chapters, look up the tag “pokemon la vie en rose” or go to my profile)

Bede’s shaking legs couldn’t hold up anymore. He sank to his knees, hugging Celebi tightly against his chest. Had his journey through the past come to an end? Rubbing away tears on his sleeve and blinking open his eyes, Bede found himself kneeling on the floor of a darkened, unused hospital room, rather than inside the ring of yellow mushrooms where the Opal he knew would await him.

“You have more to show me, Celebi?” He whispered.

“Bi.” The time-traveling Pokemon nodded. Bede swallowed hard. “I don’t know if I can keep going.” The image of Opal’s face covered in cuts, blood, and tears, and of the glass shard through her right hand, seared itself into his mind like a hot brand. Celebi rested a little green hand on his wet cheek. “Yes, you can,” it seemed to say. “You have to. Opal did.”

Bede grit his teeth and forced himself to stop shaking. He shouldn’t be wimping out. Opal wouldn’t have picked a wimp to be the next Gym Leader, right? Slowly but steadily, he rose to his feet, and he let Celebi gently lead him by the hand out of the dark room. On numb, heavy feet he walked down the hall, slipping past doctors and nurses, and entered a room occupied by a patient. That patient was Opal.

He almost didn’t recognize her at first. Her impeccable hair style and sense of elegant fashion seemed to be wiped clean upon her arrival at the hospital. Now her dark hair was limp and unkempt, and a plain white gown framed her thin, slumped figure. Her eyes, normally vivid and bright blue, were dull and unfocused as she seemed to be in the process of memorizing the placement of every tile on the hospital’s laminated floor. Stitches, tape, and squares of gauze—depending on the width and depth of the cuts—covered her face so she looked to Bede like a patched-up, hand-me-down doll he once saw in the orphanage toybox. The largest stitches had sealed the big wound in her right hand.

Bede realized he had been standing in the way of anyone else entering the room when Celebi drew him aside. A bespectacled grey-haired man in a white coat walked in past him, and when Opal didn’t look up, the man cleared his throat.

“Excuse me, Ms. Opal?”

She seemed to take a second or two for her eyes to focus on him. “Yes? Who are you?” Her voice was like a Gastly—light and wispy.

The doctor took a seat at her bedside. “Hello, Ms. Opal, I’m the gynecologist.”

She frowned at him. “Gynecologist? I haven’t gone to one since I was pregnant with Jasper. But this time I’m not—“ Then her face paled. “No.”

The doctor tightened his lips to a thin line.

Hers was covered by her good hand. “How...how did you know?”

“The medics had found you bleeding between your legs at the crash site. You had passed out from the blood loss and came into the trauma unit unconscious. I was called in to do an abdominal ultrasound. We do abdominal ultrasounds for all trauma cases, but what the medics reported was cause for greater concern.“

She leaned toward him, hanging on his every word. “What did you find?”

“The ultrasound showed a fetus that’s, I’d say, more or less five weeks old.”

“And?”

“And...and there was no heartbeat.”

Opal leaned back and sat perfectly still in bed. The only part of her body that moved was her good hand bunching up the bedsheets.

With audible hesitation between every few words, the gynecologist went on, “The ultrasound also showed that you took significant damage from the impact. There was extensive scarring and bleeding in your uterus. It had to be removed in an emergency operation. I’m so very sorry to tell you all this, Ms. Opal.”

She said nothing for what seemed like an eternity. Finally, she murmured, “Thank you for telling me.”

“Is there anything else I can do for you, ma’am? Any questions or concerns?”

She didn’t seem to hear him. Only when he asked a second time, her gaze snapped up to him and she shook her head. The gynecologist softly uttered another apology before he moved away to leave her alone.

Opal seemed to withdraw back into her silent stupor, but then she stirred in her bed, as if suddenly remembering something, and said, “Wait.” Her voice cracked as she struggled to raise it and call for the doctor.

He poked his head back through the open door he had just disappeared through. “Yes, Ms. Opal?”

“My husband, Roger...my son, Jasper...and my brother, Kestrel...what happened to them? Where are they? Are they here in the hospital too? May I see them?”

The gynecologist bit on his lower lip before he replied, “I’ll get your other brother in here. He ought to be the one telling you, I think.”

“My other brother? Randall is here?”

Sure enough, Randall came into the room a few minutes later after the gynecologist fetched him. Pyroar and Boltund flanked him, and relief was stamped all over his face.

“Opal, you’re awake. I’m so glad.”

“Randy.” Cuts on her cheeks made her smile lopsided and uneven. “I didn’t expect to see you again like this.”

“Me neither.” He didn’t laugh at the wryness in her comment.

“Roger, Jasper, and Kes...have you seen them?”

Randall didn’t reply, making Opal tense.

“Come on, Randy, tell me. Where are they?”

He sank into the stool the doctor had just occupied and rested a hand on her shoulder. “I...I don’t think this is a good time to see them.”

“I want to see them now.”

Randall said nothing for a while. Then, in a tight, small voice, he said, “I’ll take you to see Kes first.”

Opal still had to recover from her surgery, so she couldn’t walk on her own yet. Randall needed a nurse’s help to move her from the bed and into a wheelchair. Bede followed them out of her room, and ahead of them, at the end of the hallway, he spotted a trio of police officers hanging around and talking in hushed tones just outside a room. Their badges read “Wynwall Police Department.” A pair of Growlithes and a Machamp waited patiently beside their human companions.

As it became clear that she was being wheeled to that room, Opal stiffened. “Randy, why are the police here?”

He didn’t say anything, except that Bede noticed how his grip tightened over the handles of the wheelchair.

One of the officers, the youngest of the three, regarded Randall and Opal as they approached. “Are you family of Kestrel Roy?”

“Yes, his brother and sister,” Randall replied.

Bede heard mild shock in his voice, as if in disbelief that anyone working for the city of Wynwall wouldn’t know of the esteemed Roy family. To be fair, this officer looked young and wet behind the ears. Or not from around here, maybe.

“You may go in, but I can’t let you be in there by yourself,” the officer went on.

“Of course,” Randall said.

The officer led him and Opal into the room. Bede went in after them. Kestrel sat up in bed, in the same white gown as Opal, but not sporting nearly as many cuts as she did. What Bede saw next made his heart almost stop. Kestrel was handcuffed to the bed.

Opal must have noticed, too. Her voice was high-pitched in disbelief. “What’s the meaning of this?”

The lump in Kestrel’s throat bobbed before he spoke. “Opal, I—“

“Shut up,” Randall snapped. “Don’t you say another word.”

Kestrel flinched and stared down at the handcuff binding him to the bedside. Randall turned to the officer and gestured at him to answer instead.

“Well, ma’am, we found this on him when we arrived on scene.” The officer produced the canteen Kestrel had strapped to his hip. “It was full of liquor.”

Randall squeezed his eyes shut, like he had heard this before, while Opal stared aghast at the officer.

“It can’t be,” she murmured.

The officer looked down at her with solemnity that didn’t match his young freckled face. “We arrested your brother for vehicular manslaughter while under the influence.”

She blinked at him as if he was speaking to her in a foreign language. “Manslaughter?”

Randall cut off the officer with a shake of his head before he could go on. He walked around the wheelchair to face Opal and kneel down to meet her eyes. He clasped her hand that wasn’t covered in stitches. “Opal...I’m so, so sorry. Roger and Jasper...they didn’t make it. They’re gone.”

She dropped her gaze from Randall’s face to her lap. What came out of her mouth was so quiet that Bede had to lean in to hear better. “Drinking? On the job? What the bloody hell were you thinking, Kes?”

“I-I couldn’t help myself.” Her youngest brother’s voice was thick with shame and self-loathing. “I got so nervous about the trip. You know what I do when I have to calm my nerves. You locked up all the drinks at home, so I flew out of town to buy and drink some before we flew out. I didn’t think I drank that much. I just wanted to make things right.”

Opal didn’t reply. Instead she sprang out of the wheelchair and pushed Randall out of her way. The sudden vehemence of her movement startled everyone in the room, including Bede. Randall recovered quickly and moved faster than her. He threw both arms over his twin sister from behind, over her shoulders and around her chest, cutting off her mad lunge at the one responsible for the deaths of her spouse and son.

“Opal—“

“I’ll kill you,” she screamed at Kestrel. “I’ll fucking kill you!”

“Opal, please, calm down,” Randall pleaded into her ear. “You’ll hurt yourself.”

She struggled in his embrace, grabbing at his sleeve with her good hand, but not for long. The officer had stepped forward to help Randall restrain her, but she went limp and sank back into the wheelchair sobbing. Randall kept his hold over her shaking shoulders.

Kestrel buried his tear-streaked face into the hand that wasn’t cuffed. “I’m sorry, Opal. I’m so sorry.”

“You can say sorry until you’re fucking blue in the face,” she spat. “It wouldn’t make a difference. That won’t bring my family back.” Opal lifted her gaze up to Kestrel, her blue eyes like Sheer Cold that sent shivers up Bede’s spine. Her whisper was just as stark and chilly. “You’re dead to me. You’re no longer my brother.”

Unspoken hurt and shock struck Kestrel’s face. When she said “family,” she didn’t mean just Roger and Jasper, Bede realized. She meant Kestrel, too.

Opal looked away, and all the fight seemed to leave her as she slumped in the wheelchair. “Get me out of this room,” she said to Randall. “I want to see Roger and Jasper.”

He wheeled her out, away from Kestrel, but as soon as they were outside he said, “Are you sure, Opal? I’ve talked to the medical examiner when you were unconscious...she said that they aren’t viewable.”

“I don’t care.” Her voice shook at what she said next. “I can’t believe they’re gone until I see them for myself.”

At the futility of fighting his sister’s stubbornness, Randall sighed in resignation. “All right. I’ll come with you.”

At Celebi’s prompting, Bede followed Opal and Randall downstairs to the hospital morgue. He shivered and hugged himself. This cold wasn’t like the cold of a winter in Ballonlea Town. This cold brought no promise of warmth. It smelled like disinfectant...disinfectant that tried to mask the smell of death.

In a compassionate brotherly gesture, Randall took off his coat and draped it over Opal, who was shivering in her thin hospital gown. Pyroar kept pace with the wheelchair and let Opal bury her good hand into its mane for more warmth. Bede, meanwhile, cradled Celebi to his chest for comfort.

He had never been in a morgue before, and no thanks to scenes from thriller and mystery movies he had seen, he braced himself for something dramatic and distressing—some part of the floor they forgot to scrub clean of blood, or sheets thrown back to flash the dead body, like some sick magic trick.

There was nothing like that. A mortuary technician awaited Opal and Randall in a viewing room. He sat down with them and carefully and gently informed Opal on the details of the Flying Taxi accident. A carriage of metal and glass falling from a great height, with multiple impacts, had to have killed Roger and Jasper on site. There was almost no chance that they could have survived that kind of fall. Most of their bodies were crushed and mangled beyond recognition. Only their faces were deemed intact and viewable. The mortuary technician showed Opal photos of their faces, to which she nodded and insisted that she was prepared to see their real faces.

She held onto Randall’s hand when the bodies of her husband and son were pulled out of the storage. The technician unzipped the bags to show their faces, then stepped away to give Opal time to say good-bye. She was wheeled up to Roger first. Minus the dried dark cuts on his face, and the body bag, of course, he looked like he was sleeping.

Opal leaned in, as if to brush his hair back and kiss his forehead, but thought better of it and withdrew her hand. “You really went and left me,” she told him. “You promised that we were going to grow old together. You remember that? Don’t think for a second that I forgot.” It was obvious to Bede that Opal made a brave attempt to act like Roger could hear her. She sniffed and briefly pressed the sleeve of Randall’s coat over her eyes. “You remember the duet we sang in the forest? The song that made us meet and fall in love? I’ll sing it for both of us.”

The first verse of the song was supposed to be Roger’s part. Opal sang it for him, then her part, but ended up not even making it halfway through the duet. Her singing dissolved into quiet sobs. Finally, she said, “I can’t sing this without you, darling. We always sang this together.” She tightened her good hand into a fist over her chest. “One day we will do that again. Just wait for me, okay?” She drew back and gathered herself with a shuddering sigh before turning to Randall. “You can take me to Jasper now.”

Her son looked like he was sleeping, too. It was his little, innocent, round face, the look of a boy who would never grow older than five, that made Opal completely break down when she came up to him. She cried so hard that her sobs came out like cries of pain. Bede clutched at the part of his jacket right over his heart. A mother’s grief was the most terrible thing to hear.

Randall knelt down beside his sister to let her cry into his arms and chest. He hadn’t said a word since he and Opal entered the morgue. What could he possibly say? There were no words for this. She seemed grateful for his silence. Perhaps that kind of unspoken understanding was possible for twins like Randall and Opal. A minute passed, then Opal pulled away looking determined to give Jasper more than her wordless tears.

She allowed herself the briefest stroke through her son’s still curly hair. “Jasper, darling, this is Mummy coming to tuck you into bed one last time. I bet that you’re with Daddy now, flying on a Pidgeot, to a magical land where you can eat all the ice cream and candy you want. I’m sorry that I can’t be there with you. Not yet. I bet that you’re with the baby, too. Someday you’ll get to tell me if you have a brother or a sister.” Struggling somewhat with her injured hand, Opal blew a soft air kiss to him. “Sweet dreams, darling.”

Bede had to lean against the wall for support. He blinked hard and scrunched knuckles over his eyes, feeling the tears threatening to overwhelm him again. Opal lost her husband, son, and the child she hadn’t known she was carrying until too late—all in one day. She also lost any chances to have more children. And she had carried this terrible pain close to her heart for decades. Bede couldn’t even imagine.

She had vented all the sounds of her anguish in the hospital. By the time she was discharged and had headed back home to Ballonlea Town for the funeral, she was a figure of blank, unbroken stoicism as her husband and son were laid to rest.

Opal didn’t have time for rest of her own. Soon after the funeral, she was summoned to court for Kestrel’s trial. True to her declaration of disowning him at the hospital, she adamantly avoided meeting his eyes and acknowledging him as anything more than an alcoholic and a murderer, even when she stepped up to read her victim impact statement:

“The hurt and pain you have caused me is a thousand times greater than what had landed me in the hospital. Roger trusted you with his life, and you betrayed him by taking it away from him. Jasper adored you, and you killed him because you adored alcohol more. I blame myself for thinking that you had changed, for entrusting the lives of my husband and son to you. I will carry more than scars on my body. I will carry the regret of my mistake of believing in you for the rest of my life. I have said it before, and I will say it again: you are dead to me, and you are not my brother anymore.”

The amount of fury that Opal could channel through her composure frightened and astonished Bede. This was not the quirky, friendly old woman he knew. Kestrel, meanwhile, said nothing in his defense. With an unshaven lower half of his face and bags under his eyes, he looked like the oldest of the three instead of the youngest now. Opal’s words utterly destroyed him, and the look on his face told of how much he felt deserving of all his sister’s anger and hatred. Despite everything the man had done to tear his family apart, Bede actually felt a bit sorry for him. Kestrel had really tried to fix mistakes he had made in the past, but he wasn’t strong enough, and he ended up making the biggest mistake of his life. For handling a Flying Taxi while intoxicated, and for the deaths of two family members in the process, Kestrel was sentenced to ten years in prison.

Roger’s death released his Pokemon from his ownership. Likewise, Kestrel’s sentence relinquished him of his Pokemon as well. It was up to Opal to deal with all of them. They were gathered in the front yard of her house, facing the armbench where she sat.

Her gaze and words directed to them were filled with sympathy. “You can’t go back to your Trainers anymore. That’s just not possible. I’m sorry.” With her good hand, she held up a pair of fingers. “You have two choices. You may stay with me, or you may run free to live in the wild. Whatever you choose, you have my support.”

Corviknight, Staraptor, Pidgeot, Mightyena, and Obstagoon stared at Opal for a few more moments, looked at each other, then made their decisions. Kestrel’s bird Pokemon spread their wings and uttered piercing cries. Hovering close to Bede, Celebi touched one side of his head, and from that moment on he received flashes of telepathic clarity. Corviknight, Staraptor, and Pidgeot were announcing their intention to leave Ballonlea Town. Opal didn’t train Flying type Pokemon, and the treetops hemming in the town didn’t make an ideal habitat for Kestrel’s Pokemon, who liked to soar high and freely. One by one, they stalked up to Opal to touch their heads and beaks against her hand to convey their condolences, then stepped back to take off.

Corviknight lingered the longest, and Opal actually reached up to wrap her arms around the Pokemon’s neck. “Thank you,” she said, “for protecting me back in Route 10. I could’ve had worse injuries if I had gotten up. You kept me down even knowing that I didn’t like you.”

Corviknight uttered a soft caw, which Bede heard as “I’m so sorry for what happened.” Opal touched the flat part of its crest for a moment, sharing in the loss of the man who had been its Trainer and her brother. Then she let her hand drop back to her side.

“I’m never riding a Flying Taxi ever again, but you were just doing what you were told, and I don’t blame you for the accident. I hope you remember that.”

Corviknight nodded, then stepped away to join Pidgeot and Staraptor. As for Mightyena and Obstagoon, they made soft grunts, saying in unison that they had no intentions of going anywhere.

Opal regarded them with surprise. “I’m not a Dark type Pokemon Trainer. And Roger is...” Her voice shook. “Roger is gone. You’re sure you still want to stay with me?”

Obstagoon crossed its arms and grunted, which Bede heard as “This is our home, and that hasn’t changed even though our Trainer isn’t here anymore.”

Mightyena whined and wagged its tail to mean “We like having a home to look after and protect. You gave us and our Trainer that home.”

Obstagoon uttered a soft growl, saying “Let us give back and look after you.”

Opal couldn’t understand them like Bede temporarily could, but their determination to stay made her eyes fill with tears. “Oh, you two...you really don’t have to...”

Mightyena bounded up to rest its head on her lap, while Obstagoon lumbered over to hug her. She wrapped her arms around them and cried into Obstagoon’s white chest fur. Opal’s Pokemon team came through the door, perhaps at the sound of her crying, to join her and Roger’s Pokemon on the bench.

Surrounded by the love of all these Pokemon, despite losing her husband, son, and unborn child, Opal smiled for the first time since that fateful flight.

Notes: I lost my dad to a stroke on January 13th of this year. The grieving process is still very raw and real for me, so I ended up channeling that into Opal’s grief for the family she lost. It felt cathartic.

#pokemon sword and shield #pokemon swsh #swsh bede #swsh opal #pokemon bede #pokemon opal #pokemon fanfiction #pokemon fic #bede pokemon #opal pokemon #pokemon la vie en rose

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badchoicesposts · 4 years

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In A Land of Myth...

Chapter 2

Summary: When Selene, a young sorceress, arrived in Stormholt she had every intention of remaining anonymous. King Constantine Rys had strict rules on sorcery. The act itself was punishable by death, and she had no desire to be burnt at the stake for her “crimes”. However, it becomes increasingly difficult for her to remain unseen when she becomes Prince Liam’s personal maidservant, and it seems that it’s her job to protect him from everyone that wants to kill him.

Author’s Note: So this is an AU that I’ve been working on recently that is a cross between TRR and BBC’s Merlin. If you haven’t watched the show before it follows the tale of King Arthur and the sorcerer Merlin. Merlin comes to Camelot where magic is outlawed and is made Prince Arthur’s servant. This fic will also contain some elements of The Crown and The Flame, but things have been changed up a bit to fit the Merlin story line.

Disclaimer: You do not have to watch the show to understand this fic, but it is based on the BBC show Merlin so the story line will be extremely similar, but there will be changes made to fit my story as well.

Pairing: Liam x MC (Selene), Drake x MC (There will probably also be a fair amount of Platonic!Bastien x MC)

Taglist: @flowerpowell, @bobasheebaby, @alexintheskyy, @slytherincursebreaker, @kingliam2019, @furiousherringoperatortoad, @goldenbirdcrystalcage

Chapter 1

This is a series so if you would like to be added to or removed from the taglist please let me know! I didn’t have time to edit this before posting so I apologize for any grammatical mistakes in this chapter. Thanks for reading!

The Lady Joelle sat in her tent, humming to herself as she brushed her hair. She and her guards had been travelling for days, but she had just been informed that they would make it to Stormholt by dawn tomorrow morning. She was looking forward to the rest she would receive once they had reached the comfort of the castle, wanting to be properly rested for her performance at Constantine’s celebration. She continued to hum softly to herself as she prepared to turn in for the night. The song was one she had performed many times, but she still wanted to make sure that it would be perfect for the king.

The sudden sound of the flap of her tent being ripped aside caused her to whip her head around in shock. She barely had time to process what was going on as an elderly woman holding a small doll made of straw entered the tent. The woman began chanting in a strange language, and Joelle felt her breath catch in her throat as she watched her stab the doll repeatedly with an ornate dagger.

Joelle raised her voice to scream, but no noise escaped her mouth as she gasped for breath. A moment later her lifeless body fell to the floor, the old woman stepping over it and took a seat in front of the small vanity that had been set up for the young singer. She muttered an incantation under her breath and watched in satisfaction as her face transformed into a perfect replica of Joelle’s.

~~~

“Selene. Selene. SELENE!”

Selene jolted awake, the sound of someone calling her name abruptly rousing her from her slumber. She looked around her room frantically for the sound of the voice, but found that she was completely alone. The events of the previous night came flooding back to her mind, and she threw the covers aside, dressing quickly under the assumption that Bastien had been the one calling her name.

She descended the stairs to see the man already up and sitting at the table, an array of fruits spread out before him.

“Did you call for me?” she asked, approaching the table and taking a seat as he motioned for her to help herself.

“No, I had assumed you would be tired after your journey and that you would wish to sleep in late,” he said, furrowing his brows in confusion.

Selene bit her bottom lip nervously. She was sure she had heard a voice. It was the same one she had heard the previous night as she was falling asleep. However, instead of alarming him, she brushed off the topic for now.

“I must have been dreaming,” she said, deciding she would figure it out later.

Bastien looked at her suspiciously, but decided not to question it.

“I’m still looking for some paid work for you, but in the meantime I hoped you would come down to training with me today,” he said.

“Training?”

“Yes, some of the new recruits need to be trained in combat and sword fighting.”

Selene nodded to show that she was willing to accompany him, and they finished their meal in a comfortable silence. As they walked through the castle halls, Selene took note of how easily Bastien navigated the winding halls that she would have gotten lost in. After they had been walking for a few minutes, he nodded her along, informing her that he needed to stop by the armoury and that they would meet again outside.

The sun was high in the sky when Selene stepped out in the fresh air. She took a deep breath, allowing the air to fill her lungs, and she relaxed her shoulders. It was a beautiful day. She strolled along the castle grounds to the spot Bastien had instructed her to wait, when she was pulled out of her peaceful state by the sound of cheering and laughter. She turned to see a group of men jeering and laughing in amusement as their “leader”, a man with sandy blond hair and bright blue eyes, threw knives at a wooden target being held up by a short man with dark brown hair.

“I told you to go stand over there!” the blond man called, pointing his finger a few feet away from where the man, who was obviously a servant, was standing.

“Sorry!” the servant called, beginning to walk over to where he was pointing.

While en route to the new position, the blonde man threw a dagger at the target. The servant was barely able to lift the target in front of his face before the blade came in contact with his skin. Selene watched as he stopped for a moment to gather his breath, grumbling quietly to himself. Before he was able to get moving again, more daggers began to move toward the target.

“Run!” the blond man called, “We need some moving target practice!”

The servant began running back and forth frantically as everyone from the group began to throw daggers in his direction. Selene watched the scene with distaste from a distance. She didn’t like the way they treated the man who was just trying to do his job, but she knew better than to interrupt. Or at least she thought she did. The last straw when when one of the daggers drastically missed the target, and sailed past the servant’s arm, slicing his skin as it passed by and landed in the grass beyond.

The man screamed out in pain, and without thinking, Selene rushed to his side.

“That’s enough. You’ve had your fun,” she tried to say jovially, but it came out with more attitude than intended as she looked over the cut on the servant’s arm.

The man with the blond hair looked at her curiously, a smirk forming on his face.

“You must be new here, darling,” he said, with an amused smile.

Selene bit her tongue to stop herself from responding to the condescending manner he spoke to her in and helped the servant to his feet. He mumbled a quick thank you before they turned back to the group’s leader who had begun approaching them.

“I am,” Selene responded, holding her head high.

“That explains it. So, you don’t know who I am,” he reasoned, the same cocky expression on his face as he stopped in front of them.

“An ass?” she offered, not backing down from his gaze.

She was vaguely aware of the look of horror on the servant’s face, but she paid no mind. She could practically hear her mother saying that her mouth was going to get her in trouble and that a lady shouldn’t use that type of language. However, she couldn’t seem to care in the moment. The only thing she wanted was to wipe the smug look off of the face of the man before her.

“I’m Prince Leo. You can’t address me like that,” he said, still smiling.

Selene knew that she should have shrunk back, but the stubborn part of her didn’t want to back down. She could also tell that the prince wasn’t actually mad. He seemed more amused at the turn of events than anything else.

“So, you’re an ass that abuses his title,” she responded.

Prince Leo laughed heartily, as did the men behind him, but before he could respond, she felt a strong hand rest on her shoulder. She turned to see Bastien glaring down at her.

“I apologize on her behalf, Prince Leo. Today is Selene’s first day in Stormholt. I’m sure her lack of manners stems from her tiredness from the long journey she made to get here,” he said looking down at her pointedly.

“However, she is right, Leo,” another voice came from behind them.

They all turned to see another man approaching them. He was broad shouldered and dressed in full armour. He shared many of the same features as Leo, but he was a few inches taller and had darker blond hair.

“Liam, when did you return?” Leo asked, approaching the other man, and clapping him good naturedly on the back.

“A few moments ago,” Liam replied. “And I believe the lady is correct, Leo,” he said, giving the other man a pointed look.

Liam then turned to Selene, the kind smile on his face taking her aback for a moment.

“Welcome to Stormholt, Selene,” he said softly, holding his hand out for her to take.

Selene hesitantly placed her hand in his, and he brought it up to his lips, placing a gentle kiss on her knuckles.

“Thank you… Your Highness,” she added as an afterthought, realizing that she was speaking to Stormholt’s crown prince.

The news of Leo’s abdication the previous year had travelled quickly throughout the kingdom and to those around it. Many people rejoiced to learn that Prince Liam would one day be their leader as opposed to his more adventurous and less responsible brother. However, Leo had decided to stay in Stormholt despite rumours and murmurings that suggested he should leave the capital since he had given up his birthright, and he was now one of Stormholt’s most dedicated warriors and fiercest protectors.

Liam smiled at Selene as he lowered their hands, her skin buzzing from his touch.

“Bastien, I wasn’t aware that you had any remaining blood relatives,” Liam stated turning to the man next to her.

Bastien cleared his throat before speaking. “I don’t, Your Highness. Selene’s mother, and I were old friends. I do not have any living blood relatives, but Selene is family in every sense of the word.”

Selene smiled at his kind words, but she was still filled with a nervous energy at hearing the harshness in his voice as he apologized to Leo on her behalf. She had let her stubbornness and emotions control her and spoken out of turn.

“Well, I hope you enjoy your time here,” he said turning back to her.

All around them things seemed to be returning to normal and everyone was carrying on with their usual activities.

“Selene, would you mind taking Daniel to see the court physician?” Bastien turned to her and asked, nodding his head towards the servant.

There was a look in his eyes that told her not to argue with him, not that she would have at this point.

“Of course,” she said turning to Daniel and grabbing his arm to pull him away.

She turned her head and mouthed the words “I’m sorry” to him, a strained expression on her face. As she turned back around she saw Bastien shake his head tiredly, however, the fond smile he wore on his face was unmistakable. The small gesture making her let out a relieved breath.

“You shouldn’t have done that for me,” Daniel said, as the continued to make their way back into the castle and to the court physician’s quarters.

“Yes, well apparently I’m a bit stupid,” Selene said self depricatingly, pulling a laugh from the man.

The physician’s quarters were small, made up a room that consisted of ceiling high bookshelves and various worktops that contained small vials. There was a dining table in the corner of the room, only big enough for two, and a small bed behind an old room divider. A door on the wall furthest to the right was left open, displaying another small bedroom.

“Hello, Daniel,” a thin woman with brown hair said with a smile as she approached them.

“Hello, Hana,” he said addressing her.

He then turned and nodded to the older man who was at the worktop. “Xinghai.”

“What happened to you arm?” Hana asked, motioning for him to sit down at the table.

“Leo and some of the new recruits decided to use me as moving target practice,” Daniel explained as Hana began to clean the injury. “Selene, here told him off, though. Called him an ass. It was quite a sight to see.”

Selene cringed as he retold the story. Both Hana and Xinghai looked shocked, but amused.

“That’s quite a story,” Xinghai said, moving over to stand beside them as he took in Selene’s appearance.

“I should have kept my mouth shut,” Selene said as Hana bandaged Daniel’s arm.

“If you had we wouldn’t have had such an entertaining morning,” he replied with a laugh. “It’s very nice to meet you, Selene. I’m Xinghai the court physician, and this is my daughter Hana.”

“It’s nice to meet the two of you as well,” Selene said, smiling at the old man.

“Welcome to Stormholt. It’ll be nice to have another woman around here,” Hana said, as she finished up with Daniel.

“Thank you, Hana,” Daniel said, getting up and straightening his shirt. “I have to get back to work.”

Daniel headed out of the physician’s quarters, leaving Selene alone with Hana and Xinghai.

“Hana, why don’t you show Selene around the castle,” Xinghai said, smiling kindly. “It may be useful if she intends on staying in Stormholt for some time.”

Selene and Hana spent the rest of the day getting to know each other. She wasn’t eager to get back to Bastien who undoubtedly had a lecture waiting for her, and it was actually very nice to have a friend. There weren’t many girls her age in her village, and it was nice to have someone to talk to. During their tour of the castle, Hana also introduced her to Penelope. Penelope was the maid of Lady Madeleine, King Constantine and Queen Regina’s ward.

At the end of the day, Selene walked back into her quarters, quietly closing the door behind her as she lay back on her bed. She had arrived back before Bastien and was intent on hiding out until he forgot about everything that happened that day. She briefly wondered if there was a spell that could modify someone’s memory before being pulled out of her thoughts by a knock at her door. It opened a moment later to reveal her new guardian, looking at her pointedly.

She smiled at him guiltily, sitting up on her bed and beckoning him in. He took a seat at the edge of her bed, and she already knew what was coming.

“Selene,” he began.

“I know,” she cut him off. “I spoke out of turn today. I need to be more careful.”

“Selene, you need to be more than just careful. I don’t think I need to remind you that if anyone were to find out about your abilities the consequences would be dire. Speaking to the prince that way gets people’s attention. The more eyes on you the greater the chance of someone noticing your powers.”

“It won’t happen again.”

Bastien nodded and made to get up. She had expected more. Her mother would have chewed her out until she was blue in the face if she knew what had happened. Bastien was being lenient and, perhaps she was pushing her luck, but she couldn’t help calling after him.

“Was I wrong?” she asked with a smirk.

Bastien raised his eyes at her in question.

“He’s an ass who abuses his title. Was I wrong about that?” she asked.

Bastien smiled.

“Prince Leo can get carried away. But, he means well,” he responded, heading back to the door. “Sleep well, Selene.”

Selene peeled the covers back from her bed before blowing out the candle that rested on her bedside table, letting darkness overtake the room. She relaxed under the blankets, quickly falling into a deep sleep. The sound of someone calling her name caused her to jolt awake some time later.

“Selene. Selene. Selene!”

She turned her head, looking around the small room for the source of the voice. That’s when she realized that it wasn’t coming from anywhere nearby. It seemed to be coming from somewhere below her. The covers were hastily thrown off of her body as she began quietly looking for her cloak. She pulled it on over her nightgown and opened her door, praying that it didn’t creak loudly enough to make the man sleeping below her wake up. She crept down the stairs, careful not to make any noise and slipped out the door.

Selene weaved her way through the castle halls, following the sound of the voice until she came to a staircase that led down to the dungeons. The area was guarded by two men sitting at a small table throwing around a pair of dice, both wearing bored expressions on their faces. Selene crouched down, hiding herself easily behind the railing of the stairs. With one flash of her eyes, the dice flew off of the table, causing the two tired guards to turn their heads in interest. One of them got up to fetch the toys, only to have them fly out of his hands as soon as they were picked up. He shot a nervous look at his companion, and the other man rose as well. Selene tried to hold in her laughter as she watched both men chase down the pair of dice. She wondered briefly if Constantine knew how easy it was for his trusted guards to be distracted.

She continued to enchant the dice, watching as the guards moved further and further away from their posts before slipping past them and down the corridor they were previously watching over. She came across another grand, stone staircase that led deep under the castle and grabbed one of the unlit wooden torches that line the walls going down into the earth. With a wave of her hand, the torch came to life, orange flames bursting out of the top of it.

Selene held it out in front of her, allowing it to light her path as she cautiously descended the staircase. Unsure of what was awaiting her at the bottom, but buzzing with excitement at the thought that she would finally learn the identity of the person who had been calling her name.

“Selene.”

The voice was getting louder and louder with every step she took.

“SELENE.”

She let out a slow breath as she finally reached the bottom of the stairs and travelled a few feet to a small ledge that led to a large underground cave. The cave seemed to extend for miles both upwards and downwards, and she realized just how far under the castle she had travelled to get to the spot where she stood. However, the sound of the voice had disappeared and there was no one in sight. She briefly agonized over what to do next before throwing all caution to the wind. She had made it this far, and she wasn’t going to turn back now.

“Hello!” she called out into the mass of emptiness. “Hello! Is anyone here?”

The loud sound of flapping wings filled her ears, and Selene dropped her torch in shock as a large blue dragon came to rest on one of the rocks in front of her.

“I’m here,” he said in a deep, rumbling voice.

#the royal romance #the royal heir #liam #liam x mc #king liam #drake walker #drake x mc #bastien #bastien lykel #trr bastien #bastien x mc #the crown and the flame #fics #my fics #playchoices #playchoices fic

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the--sad--hatter · 5 years

Text

Phantom Pain (24)

FANDOM - MARVEL MCU

PAIRING - Bucky X Reader

WARNINGS - Bad Habits and Rough Sex, Angsty and Dark AF.

DESCRIPTION - Everybody in the world knew of you, but not who you really were. Some called you a vigilante, some called you a criminal and some called you a hero but all of them called you The Phantom.

Only two people knew your real identity and they swore to never tell anyone but when The Avengers need to infiltrate a high-security facility, Bruce Banner deduces that you’re the only one who can pull it off. That decision puts you and Bucky Barnes on a path you can’t turn back from, even if neither of like where it’s leading.

Series Masterlist

Chapter Twenty-Four - Operation Regicide

“Ok, we’re hitting the Hydra Base in approximately 4 hours. Then you should be good to go.” Steve said.

“Thanks Daddy.” You purred.

“You’re welcome Baby doll.” Steve said without missing a beat, winking at you and walking out of the room.

Bucky choked on his water, Tony sat down on the nearest chair with a thump, staring after Steve with wide eyes, Clint opened and closed his mouth like a goldfish, Sam looked proud enough to burst even Natasha raised an eyebrow. Only Banner seemed to find it amusing surprisingly.

“What did you do?” Bucky asked with narrowed eyes.

You blinked innocently as him and shrugged, looking as perplexed as he did. West came into the room, talking on the phone as he did.

“No comment. Yes, you can quote that we have no quote. Thank you, yes. Goodbye.” He said, hanging up the phone and looking slightly frazzled.

“Miss, I am a butler, I can’t handle the press calling asking for an interview.” He said.

“Well stop answering the calls West, it’s not your job and you do enough already.” You told him.

“Someone has to do it, for now it seems to have fallen to me. Now, what kind of sandwiches would you all like me to pack for you for your mission?” He asked, looking around the room.

“Ok everyone, we’re gearing up to hit the Hydra base in approximately 4 hours, Phantom you should be clear to move after that.” Steve said as he strode into the room.

“Uh, yeah. You just said that… and other things I’ll never be able to unhear.” Tony replied.

Bucky’s head snapped round to look at you as he figured it out and you laughed loudly and ran away, phasing through the wall.

“Thanks Loki.” You shouted as you ran past him.

You hurtled around the corner and dashed down the adjoining corridor. Someone yanked open a door as you ran past and there was a metal arm wrapped around your waist, dragging you into the empty office.

You looked up at Bucky in shock and looked around in confusion.

“Oh my god. Did you jump of the window and scale the side of the building so you could catch me?” You asked, realising it was the only way he could have pulled it off.

His smirk was all the answer you needed, and you laughed at the mental image as he pulled you into a kiss

“I love being able to do this.” He breathed against your lips.

“We’re supposed to be getting debriefed, we don’t have time for this.” You muttered back weakly, no fight in your voice at all.

“I know but let’s just stay here for a second.” He asked and you smiled at him and wordlessly obliged.

It ended up being more than a moment and neither of you pulled away from the embrace until the owner of the unoccupied office returned and the two pulled away and left, you apologising and Bucky glaring at them as if daring them to say something.

He wordlessly grabbed your hand and held onto it as the two of you made your way back to the debriefing and if he kept a hold of it through the whole meeting, you were too happy to care about the teasing of the other team members.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“Miss King, Boss and Captain Rogers want to let you know they have begun their assault. You’re up.” Friday said in your ear.

“Got it. Operation Regicide is a go.” You said and turned to the computer, pressing the button that tony had very helpfully stuck ‘press this one’ note to.

Voices chattered over the line as Tony’s program hacked the security channel and you listened diligently as the soldier unwittingly enacted your careful plan.

“Sure this is gonna work?” Frank Castle asked from the corner of the abandoned warehouse where you had both set up shop.

“Of course it is, it’s my plan and I might not be a genius but I am a damn good manipulator.” You answered, smirking at him.

“Don’t I know it.” He grumbled.

“Are you still mad I made you like me?” You snorted.

“I tolerate you because you have your uses.” He told you dryly.

“Your wife likes me…” You taunted.

He looked up from the dozens of guns he was checking and flipped you off and you laughed.

“Package is en-route.” Someone said over the channel.

You pulled your mask over your face and pulled your hood up.

“We’re up. You know what to do.” You said to him and he gave you a bored two fingered salute and stood up.

You walked over to the sleek matte black motorbike, or as you called it… The Phantom Mobile and swung your leg over it, straddling the beast and slipping the black helmet on.

“Hey kid?” Frank called and you looked over your shoulder at him.

“You did good you know that? Nobody’s going to remember your father, when they think of the King name, they’ll think of you and all the good you do.” He said, nodding at you.

You welled up a little, you weren’t ashamed to admit it.

“Thanks Frank.” You said and started the engine.

The Phantom Mobile roared as you sped out of the warehouse and down the alley, slipping seamlessly into the traffic on the main road.

You couldn’t see your target, but you didn’t need to.

“Princess, the tracker on the package is active. It’s three blocks east.” A voice said in your helmet.

“Thanks TADASHI.” You said to the AI operating out of the helmet.

Tony had stolen the helmet from your bike without you noticing and made some upgrades, fitting it with one of his AI’s. It was one of the sweetest things he’d ever done for you and you knew it was his way of looking after you when you were out in the field. He let you know he was going to upgrade your Phantom suit with it as soon as this mission was over as well.

You blended in easily with the New York traffic as you followed the packages planned route. Your helmet and coat hid the Phantom Suit and you looked like any other biker. It took almost twenty minutes before anything happened.

“Phantom, I’ve got eyes on potential action. Package is about to go down a side street that is empty except for two unmarked black vans.” Frank said, automatically being transmitted through the helmet by Tadashi.

“On it.” You said back and made a sharp left turn, cutting down an alleyway and coming out just as the package turned the corner onto the side street Frank had eyed.

You heard the screeching of tires and the gunshots that followed and hit the brakes, skidding to a stop at the entrance of the side street. You dismounted the bike and pulled off the helmet at the same time, becoming intangible as the first volley of bullets hit you.

They passed straight through you as you strode towards the retinue of Hyrda Agents converging on the package. Vibranium was expensive, you had been betting on them not being standard issue and you had been right.

Several agents ran for you and you smirked as they desperately tried to land a blow, becoming more and more frustrated when they passed through you. Soon you were surrounded by them.

“Time for a little punishment.” You said and machine gun fire rained down on you all, ripping through the flesh of the Agents and creating a could of blood splatters in the air surrounding you.

When it was done, you stood unharmed in the centre of a pile of corpses and waved at Frank on the roof of one of the buildings. Two agents had used the slaughter as a distraction to blow open the back of the unmarked Van that had been carrying your package and they shot the guard inside and dragged a cuffed Secretary Ross out of the van.

You rushed over, becoming tangible again as you reached them, pulling out two blades from under your coat as you stood between them, slicing them both across the throat and turning around, stabbing them both in the chest simultaneously for good measure.

The Hydra Van opened and Alexander King calmly stepped out. He smirked at you and raised his gun.

“Hello Brother…Goodbye Phantom.” He said and fired.

The Vibranium bullet never hit you as the supposedly dead guard who had been in the back of the van moved to stand behind you and brought his arm up in front of you, catching the bullet. He pulled his helmet off with his other hand to reveal Bucky Barnes.

Alexander snarled and the doors of several of the building along the side of the street banged open as Hydra Agents poured out. Frank immediately fired on them and you grinned viciously.

“You two take them. I’ve got King.” You told Bucky.

As soon as you stepped away from Bucky, your father fired again but you had been ready for him and dove to the side, rolling out of the path of the bullet and flinging a knife at him. It hit him straight in the wrist and he dropped the gun with a shout of pain.

You sprung to your feet and strode towards him, kicking the gun out of the way as you did. He glared at you and tried to swing a punch at you but his hand went through you. You hit him back, becoming tangible again as your fist connected with his jaw and he fell into the side of the van.

“You had one shot, you missed and you don’t get another.” You snarled.

His eyes went wide and he looked you up and down in shock.

“Queenie.” He breathed.

You frowned at his surprise and pulled your mask down.

“No…” he breathed out.

“You knew, you shot me with a Vibranium Bullet so don’t play dumb!” You hissed.

“I didn’t keep those bullets for you.” He said.

Pieces started to fall into place in your mind. You had never actually found any documents about Project Hulk in your fathers non-existent Brooklyn office, it had been a ploy to get your uncle to confess. You knew that of your father had covered his tracks he wouldn’t want your uncle talking to anyone about the Project. That’s how you had known he would come after Ross when he was being moved and The Avengers were otherwise occupied.

But Project Hulk had wielded results, you were proof of that. And your father had Vibranium bullets so he knew it was successful but he had shut it down anyway, probably handing the research over to Hydra. But if he hadn’t known you were the Phantom then…

“There another Phantom.” You said, your mind spinning.

“There is, and I’ve been prepared for them to come after me. Vibranium is expensive but not unobtainable.” He said, pulling a long knife from his belt and swinging it at your chest, aiming right for the heart.

You leaned back but you knew you weren’t going to make it; you had been too distracted by the revelation and in slow motion you watched the Vibranium blade descend towards your chest.

“GHOST!” Frank yelled from behind you and when the tip of the blade was a millimetre away from you, a bullet phased through your chest and hit your father.

He was knocked back by it and as blood blossomed across his shirt, you snatched the knife from his hand and threw it to Bucky who was looking incredibly relived that you had phased in time and Frank hadn’t ended up shooting you. You were glad he had taken the risk; you might have survived the bullet, but you wouldn’t have survived the knife. You nodded gratefully to Frank and turned back to your father.

Blood trickled from the corner of his mouth as he fell to his knees and gasped. His strength left him and he collapsed, the death rattle of his final breaths tearing from his lungs. You calmly knelt beside him on the ground and though he didn’t deserve it, you took his hand.

“I’m here.” You whispered.

He tried to say something, but you couldn’t hear him. With a sigh, you leant down and let Alexander King whisper his dying words in your ear.

What he said made your blood turn to ice in your veins.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Bucky carefully made his way over the destroyed rubble of the former King mansion with ease as he searched the destruction for you. When you had disappeared after your father died, he had deduced you might come here, and a sliver of moonlight revealed he was right.

You were knelt on the ground under a tree of what used to be the back garden, next to a pile of dirt.

“Are you alright?” He asked softly as he approached you.

“My father is dead.” You whispered, your words drifting through the night to his ears.

“We had to do it; you know that don’t you?” He asked.

You didn’t answer, didn’t flinch, didn’t acknowledge him in any way. He came to stand behind you and his breath caught in his chest.

The pile of dirt wasn’t left over from The Hulks smash party, it was a freshy undug grave. A shovel was grasped tightly in your hands as you started blankly at the decomposed skeleton in the grave.

“No Bucky, Alexander King has been dead for over eighteen years.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

PLOT TWIST! Though I have been laying the foundation for that twist and sowing seeds for a while now.

This is the end of the first arc of the story so here's some stuff to look forward to in the upcoming chapters.

Mystery, intrigue, romance, smut, angst and Matt Murdock and Frank Castle being more heavily featured.

I hope you are looking forward to it cause I can't wait to write it!

@drdorkus @gravedollie666 @sadsoldat @bigplantdaddy @moodyruth @likes-to-smell-books @shirukitsune @inquisitor-selvala @myfandomlife-blog @markusstraya @adeleoctobre @vajeenparty @sexyvixen7 @love-nakamura @buckitybarnes @littledeadrottinghood @pinkisokay @jsmith509 @brownlee-22 @angieptt @thosesexytexasboys @liveonce-sodoitright @tarastudiesalot @spnrvt @dahkness @dilaila95 @rororo06 @mizzzpink @release-the-cathyrchkn @thefridgeismybestie @fairislesheets @strangersstranger @life-wanderer @uuuuuuuuggggghhh @curiositykilledthepepe @musingpredilection @boxofteenageideas @thelostallycat @demonlover87 @cutie1365 @mcuthemusical @caroldanvers616 @chipilerendi @scarlettswxtch @undiscovered-misunderstood @itsmejessicasstuff @musingsofafangirlblog @moli1497

#hattersmarvelverse #Bucky Barnes #bucky x reader

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marimarxagui · 5 years

Text

Been down so long it looks like up to me

May 31, 1973 Mari drove to The Forum, backstage pass in her bag, only to be turned away at the doors by a white flyered sign: gig postponed. She could’ve cried right then, having kept a mental countdown in her head, each day passing in breathless anticipation of today. She steeled herself instead and picked up Elliott, taking him to rendez-vous at April’s. The three of them smoked reefer, spun the Stones, and talked about what a disappointment those Led Zep guys were.

June 3, 1973 After the agony of waiting; attempt number two. Marimar wears a silk shirt tied at the midriff and velvet bell bottoms, her favorite chrome blue t-bar heels too. There’s glitter in her hair and even some under her eyes, and she’s buoyed by her best friend Jack Daniels. By the end of the night, the glitter’s gone, sweated off in a whirlwind of a show. It was a gut punch of starry neon daze, her eyes following guitar to microphone to drum kit, the reverbs passing right through her chest. The crowd is deafening, chaos of the best kind, and Mari feels the earth move under her feet. This is it. The very epicenter of life, and she’s in it.

Once the show’s over she squeezes into a limo between Plant and Page (Jimmy and Percy as Peter calls them), ducking the the screaming hundreds outside. Two other girls sit beside them, each prettier than the other. She doesn’t know their names — yet.

At the Riot house, she watches Bonzo ride a motorbike up and down the corridors of the ninth floor, her laughter ringing off the high walls. Jimmy pulls her into his room in private. There’s laughter and sweet talk, but she’s distracted. Mari itches to return to the group festivities, but his wandering hands land in places and she’s melting. Her undivided attention is finally caught with a kiss. It tastes of whiskey and explodes like a cherry bomb on the tip of her tongue.

Later on in bed as dawn is breaking, he makes her a proposition: would she like to come along for a few of their tour dates? He’d just love to have her along.

Would she ever.

July 7, 1973 Boarding the Starship en route to Minnesota, Mari has found a new playground. It’s not a plane but a collection of cozily crafted rooms; there’s even a fireplace. This is as good as life will probably ever get, but she’ll think about that later, after she’s had her cherry cosmo thirty thousand feet up in the air.

July 9, 1973 “Robert was looking for you.” Her heart leaps out her chest. Down the corridor she takes off. She finds him crouched over a low coffee table, back turned to her and concealing the object. It’s a sparrow that flitted in from the window. “Look at you, mister Snow White,” Mari chuckles. Even birds creatures flock to him, probably wanting to nest in those golden blonde curls.

Oh, what she would give to nest in those curls herself. But it isn’t to be. The girl from the concert, Trixie, has come along with them and the two seem attached at the hip. Some days Mari wishes she’d go up in flames.

But she gets to watch him from side stage every night, electrifying the crowd, and sometimes, distant proximity is enough.

July 10, 1973 Milwaukee. Mari drops in to say hi to her parents, hugs her mother. Mrs. Aguilar looks disappointed at the news she’s working as secretary back in L.A. (a lie), but hounds her to call more often.

July 11, 1973 She’s curled up on the plane next to Jimmy and they’re whispering childish things, laughing. She can’t remember what they talked about now. It’s not important. Not really. She’s watching him sleep. Memorizing every etch and crease of his face. They are the same age, but he seems infinitely wiser, older, just more.

Was she being ungrateful? The question drifts in and out of her mind. Jimmy’s funny, intelligent, charming, great company— more than enough excitement for her between the sheets. But when her heart’s not truly in it, it’s a cracked glass, half empty. Sometimes she wonders if she even has a heart, to be this way. But she only has to catch sight of the screaming girls at every new venue as a reminder, all the dolled up, cute little teenage girls who faint when Jimmy so much as waves hello. No, she’s not ungrateful. She couldn’t possibly be. She is very, very grateful. (But her heart continues to wail like a petulant, newborn babe).

July 12, 1973 Mari slips out of the hotel to a nearby laundromat when she realizes she’s out of clean clothes. On her way out, she bumps into Bonzo. The two share smokes and coffee at a diner and talk about James Brown.

July 15, 1973 Buffalo. The end inches forward but Mari ignores it. Every moment spent in his presence is something she is committing to a forever memory. She cackles when boyfriends are mentioned — did she have one back home? Did she, squat. “I buy my own chocolates and flowers, thank you very much,” she jokes, twisting the phrase to sound Elvis-esque to the amusement of the group. It’s so very corny of her, but it gets a smile out of him.

July 16, 1973 Robert asks how her name goes in her native tongue. She sounds it out for him and he repeats. Mar-i-mar. It’s as close to a kiss they’ve ever come, her heart a silver slinky crashing down a staircase, his face, framed by those godly golden curls, as deep a poem she’ll ever read.

July 18, 1973 She hates goodbyes. They weren’t made for people like her. Mari knows full well that after today this is the last she’ll see of them, at least for the year. They’re outside the hotel and time is being a cruel bitch, sand running out of the hourglass. In a few hours, she’ll be in Los Angeles, and they’ll be on their way to Canada, as far as two places as she can imagine. In a last and wild attempt not to be forgotten — because anything is better than being forgotten— Mari runs up to their car. Moves past Peter, Jimmy, everyone; right up to him.

“It’s a good luck charm where I’m from,” she says, affixing the red string to his wrist.

“Thanks, babe.”

He waves goodbye. Day is breaking behind them on the boulevard, the sun lights up his hair, and for one shining second of a moment, she feels like a Van Gogh sunflower, lit up from the inside.

She’ll alternate laughing and crying on the flight home, but she swears when she gazes down at the Californian crests and valleys, that they spell out his name.

#in which mari is a Total Sap and a Romantic #this is what she's been doing up until now p much!!#a ~prelude if you will #and yes i matched up the dates with actual led zep tour dates #we love a bit of research #[ you pick the place and i'll choose the time ] —;; self para

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nomadstevergxrs · 5 years

Text

Smooth

Pairings: Chris Evans x Latina!Reader

Word Count: 1580

Warnings: Mentions of Death, Angst, Unrequited love, Fluff (Teeny Bit)

A/N: This is part of @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan Marvel Play list. I got Smooth by Santana featuring Rob Thomas. I don’t have a beta reader to look into this so sorry if it sucks. More announcements at the end (might be a part 2).

December 2018, Bronx, NY

“I don’t think I can do this.” you muttered to yourself, looking up at the ceiling.

It had been five days since your grandmother passed away and you were still in complete shock. You had only spoken to three days before. She had been in the hospital for about a week due to her heart condition, but she had been released and was doing a lot better according to her doctor. So when news of her passing reached you while you in the middle of production of the movie you were working on, you thought it was a joke.

You felt the foot of the bed dip, “Come on Y/N,” Your co-star and best friend Chris said softly, patting your thigh, “You have to go. At least be there for your dad.”

You took one of the extra pillows beside you and pulled it over your head, a small part of you hoping that all of this was a terrible nightmare. You heard him sigh and get up from the bed, “I’ll meet you in the lobby.” You heard his footsteps fade away before hearing the door to your hotel room close.

You laid in bed for a few more minutes before finally forcing yourself off the bed and walked into the bathroom.

Chris Evans was a sweetheart. He had been your best friend for almost eight years. You had just moved to Los Angeles when you had been casted as an extra in Captain America: The First Avenger. You were a nervous wreck but he helped you through it and you both had been each other’s person to lean on. However you had both been cast in a movie where you play each other’s love interest and it’s making you face certain feelings that you had been trying to repress for a long time.

After taking a quick shower, you quickly got dressed in all black and headed down to the lobby and met up with Chris. Leaving the hotel, you both drove 25 minutes into the South Bronx in silence. As you were nearing the funeral home, reality finally hit you. It wasn’t a nightmare. You felt yourself start to get agitated when suddenly, you felt a large hand cover your free hand, giving it a gentle squeeze, “It’s okay doll.” He gave you a small smile, “I got you.”

Walking inside the funeral home, you were met with family member that you haven’t seen in years. After greeting everyone, Chris and you made your way over to your mom who was sitting on one of the couches.

“Hola ma.” You called out to her.

She snapped her gaze from the ground and onto you, “Y/N!” she rushed over to you in a flash and pulled you into a tight embrace, her hot tears soaking your leather jacket.

“How’s dad?” you asked her in English, wiping some of the tears from your eyes.

“Esta mal.” She answered back to you in spanish, “El estuvo en el hospital con ella y se le murió en sus brazos.”

You closed your eyes in agony, “Oh no.”

Steve looked at you with a quizzical expression on his face, “What did she say?” He asked.

“My dad….was in the hospital that night.” your voice trembled in response, “She died in his arms.”

“Oh my god doll, I’m so sorry.” he pulled you into a hug, and surprisingly, it felt nice.

You pulled away from Chris, then turned to look at your mom, “Voy a buscar a mi papa. Tu te acuerdas de Chris verdad?” you asked as she nodded.

“Hola papi.” She gave Chris a warm smile, “How are you?” She asked in her thick spanish accent.

You excused yourself from them and made your way through the throng of people that surrounded you before finally finding your dad, standing by the doorway greeting the other guests.

“Hey dad.” you gave the man with graying hair a big hug.

“Took ya long enough kiddo.” He gave you a smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

It broke your heart to see him in this position. “I’m so sorry I didn’t get here sooner.”

He shook his head, “You got here as fast as you could kiddo.”

The rest of the day was a blur. It was as if your mind and body were on autopilot. By the time you had gotten back to the hotel, it was almost 11:30.

“Can’t wait to get back to my hotel room and pass out.” Chris said as you both stepped out of the elevator.

You stretched out your legs “Same here. Being cooped up in a SUV all day sucks.”

He let out a chuckle, “Yeah, Tell me about it.”

You both stopped outside your hotel room. “Well this is me.” You announced nervously.

“Okay.” Chris answered simply, “I’ll see you tomorrow morning then.

“Okay.” You said as he turned on his heel and walked down the hall.

You pulled your key card from your pocket and scanned it against the lock but before you can turn the knob to let yourself in, Chris called out to you, “Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“If you need anything doll, you know I’m next door.”

“Roger that, Cap.” You winked at him playfully and for a split second you thought you saw his cheeks flush pink.

Stepping out of the shower, Chris grabbed a fluffy white towel and wrapped it around his waist. He quickly dressed in a pair of sweatpants and a gray t-shirt and fell back on his bed, turning on the tv and flip through the channels until something came up and sparked his interest.

He looked over at the clock on the bedside table and saw it was almost midnight. He shut off the television and before hearing a tune that he hadn’t heard in a very long time.

“Man, it's a hot one Like seven inches from the midday sun I hear you whisper and the words melt everyone But you stay so cool”

He hummed along to the music until he heard your voice singing along to the song.

“My muñequita, my Spanish Harlem Mona Lisa You're my reason for reason, the step in my groove

And if you say this life ain't good enough I would give my world to lift you up I could change my life to better suit your mood Because you're so smooth And it's just like the ocean under the moon It's the same as the emotion that I get from you You got the kind of loving that can be so smooth Gimme your heart, make it real, or else forget about it”

He was surprised at how well your singing voice was. Chuckling to himself, he propped himself up against the wall and closed his eyes, humming along to the soothing sounds of Carlos Santana.

“Fuck.” you muttered to yourself as you stood outside Chris’ hotel room, running your fingers through your hair, “What am I doing here?”

You paced up and down the hall for a moment before finally building up the courage to knock on his door.

“I should go.” You muttered to yourself, when suddenly the door swung open and Chris walked out looking down at you.

“Y/N?” He asked groggily, making you weak in the knees, “What’s wrong?”

“I uh…” you looked down at your feet, “I can’t sleep.” You looked up at him and gave him a nervous smile, “Can I spend the night with you?”

“Of course doll.” He replied, stepping aside and letting you in.

“You still thinking about your grandma?” He asked as he walked passed you to the other side of the room where the mini fridge was and pulled out two small brown liquor bottles.

“Yeah.” you let out a sigh, thanking him as he handed you one of the bottles.

Unscrewing the caps, you both made a quick toast and downed the shot.

“Man that’s strong.” You grimaced at the taste of the whiskey.

You stayed up for hours, talking to Chris about the memories of the sweet little old lady that helped you pursue your dreams.

Before you knew it, it was 4:30 in the morning, “I should get going.” You slurred as you got up from the couch but fell back down immediately, “God, I’m so drunk.” you let out a laugh.

“Maybe you should lie down Y/N.” Chris suggested as he grabbed of the extra pillows and handed it to you.

You took it and tossed it aside, feeling brave as you got up from the couch and walked towards him.

“Maybe…” you trailed off, looking up at him with your best attempt at a sultry look, “You should kiss me.”

Before he could open his mouth, you wrapped your arms around his neck and crashed your lips against his.

At first he was shocked, but then he kissed you back, before immediately he pushed you away.

“No!” Chris said in shock.

“Oh my god.” You sobered up fast, all the color draining from your face, “Chris I am so sor-”

He cut you off, “You gotta go Y/N.”

You nodded and quickly made your way out of his hotel room and made it back into your hotel room, slamming the door behind you and slid down to the floor, “Smooth Y/N…” you chastising yourself for being capable of doing so stupid, “Real fuckin’ smooth.”

A/N: I am so sorry that I haven’t been on tumblr lately. I’ve been going through a massive writer’s block and depression. I want to dedicate this story to my grandmother who passed away last month. She was the sweetest little old lady and I miss her so much.

Tags: @travelwithwords @becaamm @ktrivia@elivanah @justatranslation @tbetz0341 @raventt5-bb@canadiancoven @asimpleracoonqueen @queen-merc@evanstandream @a-court-of-stydia @loki7ms @mp8130 @lilasiannerd @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan@motleymoose @hello-sweetie-get-the-salt@notateenbeachmovie @hellkat2 @kirmt15 @shamvictoria11@yourtropegirl @basicallybucky @thefanficfaerie@jonsnowisnotdeadthough@animexchocolate @westoftheglass @feelmyroarrrr @maris-astrum @heir-of-light-33 @labyrinth-of-storylines @dirajunara-archive @danijimenezv @heather-lynn @ariallane @princess-evans-addict @elfwriter1088 @sebbytrash @crazyliraz@onebigfangirlworld @erinvanlyssel @buckys-other-punk@musichowler @lady-thor-foster @meatballevan @bionic-buckyb @aprofoundbondwithdean @therealsabalicious @fly-little-butterfly @deanmon-winchester-666 @madhattervanessa@the-most-handsome-ginger

If anyone wants to be on or off the taglist. Please shoot me a message!

#Chris Evans #Chris Evans x Latina!Reader #chris evans angst #star's marvel playlist #I write stuff

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agoodroughandtumble · 5 years

Text

Mindfields - Steve/Reader & Bucky/Reader (1/?)

Status: Incomplete Pairing: Steve/Enhanced!Reader & Bucky/Enhanced!Reader Summary: After a mission gone wrong, (Y/N), is taken captive by HYDRA but when the team manage to rescue her she doesn’t have any memories of who she is or what happened during her imprisonment. Warnings: 18+. Language, mentions of torture, possibly NSFW in later chapters Word count: 1460 [Masterlist]

“How are you feeling?” Steve’s appearance in the open doorway made you jump. You turned around, trying to match his bright smile but yours was significantly smaller.

“I’m okay, I think.”

He nodded, “And...have you remembered anything? Anything at all?”

You shook your head, looking down at your feet, feeling almost ashamed. A week ago you had woken up in a small, dark room surrounded by a group of people you later learnt were the Avengers, and while they seemed to know you, you had no idea who they were. But you’d gone with them, been taken back to the tower, told that this was your home and they were your friends, your teammates. The walls of “your” room were littered with photos and while you recognised yourself in them, smiling and laughing, it made your head hurt to concentrate on them too much. Every day one of them would ask if you had remembered something, anything, and every day you had to tell them no. Each time you did, you felt more and more like a failure. There was proof, concrete, photographic proof that you knew them. Why couldn’t you just remember?

“It’s okay, (Y/N).” Steve said reassuringly, both hands on your shoulders. There was a small pause. “Wanda had a thought, but only if it’s alright with you.”

You looked up at him, confusion across your features. “What?”

“She said she can try looking into your mind, seeing if she can help unlock some of your memories.”

You bit your lip, unsure of whether you wanted someone you barely knew looking through all of your thoughts. What if she saw something bad? What if you’d done something terrible? You had no idea where your family were, or even if you had a family. What if Wanda saw something that would make everyone turn their back on you? “I-I’ll think about it.”

Steve nodded, “Take your time.” He squeezed your shoulders slightly. “I, I kinda know what you’re going through – waking up somewhere, not knowing how you got there and all of these people bombarding you with information you don’t understand. If you wanted to talk, I’m always here.”

“Thanks, Steve. I’ll think about Wanda’s suggestion.”

“Alright.” He started to walk back out of the room, aware that it was best to take everything slowly with you, and he didn’t want to be overbearing. “I’ll see you at dinner.”

After he was gone you shut the door, wanting some privacy. While you appreciated how kind and welcoming everyone was, it was often a little bit much. Sam and Clint were often making jokes about things you couldn’t remember, and Steve sometimes looked at you like you were made of glass, that you would shatter from too much stimulation.

You ran a hand through your hair. Bruce had told you that your memories should come back gradually, but visual and audio aids might speed up the process. You went over to your desk, pulling out all the draws, rifling through pieces of paper in the hopes that something might trigger a memory. You soon found what looked to be an organiser and began flicking through the pages: birthdays, hair appointments, and some days which had nothing but a small star drawn into the corners. You frowned. Why stars? Finding a pen, you drew a star on the opposite page, and then “Nat bday”. It was definitely your handwriting, so that was surely a good start. But there was nothing personal – nothing that made it your organiser, your life, apart from those damn stars. Letting out a sigh of frustration, you set the organiser on the desk and continued opening the last few drawers. Biting your lip, you stared at what looked like a strip from a photo booth. You and Steve seemed to be dressed to the nines, pulling faces but in the last one you were laughing and he was kissing your cheek. What the hell did that mean? You squinted, trying to see if there was any more to the gesture than friendship. Surely someone would have said if there had been something between the two of you? Surely Steve would have said?

This was all making your head hurt. Steve had recommended you stay away from alcohol, at least until you started remembering, but Steve hadn’t been there when you’d been looking through your closet yesterday and found a bottle of Scotch. And hell, who was to say that this whisky wasn’t going to trigger something? It was clearly your bottle, after all. Retrieving it, you took a large swig, enjoying the slight burn it provided. As long as you didn’t have too much before heading down to dinner, none of the team would be any the wiser.

Well, that had been the plan. After the second swig you decided to listen to some music – Tony having deleted the passwords on your devices for you, and it turned out you had really good music taste. You were swaying along to the music, eyes closed and bottle in your hand when there was a knock on the door. With a start, you stashed the bottle back in the closet before pulling the door open, a little too enthusiastically.

Bucky eyed you suspiciously. “You alright there, doll?”

“Perfectly fine.” You said, trying to sound as sober as possible. “I found my music. Come dance!” You grabbed his flesh arm and pulled him into the room.

“Have you been drinking?”

“No, don’t be stupid.” You told him, attempting to dance with him but he remained still. “Dance with me!”

“Let me get you some water,” he said, removing his arm from your grip and walking over to the mini fridge in the corner of your room. He passed you a bottle. “Steve’ll kill me if he thinks I’m condoning your drinking.”

“Pfft.” You waved your hand nonchalantly, but accepted the bottle all the same, downing half of it with one mouthful. “What do you want anyway? Clearly you’re not here to dance with me.”

“Dinner’s ready. Sam said he cooked your favourite.”

You stopped, suddenly feeling guilty for drinking more than you intended. “Is it obvious I’m drunk?”

He chuckled, and you couldn’t help but feel a smile tug at your lips. “Drink some more water, you’ll be fine, doll.”

“Why do you call me that?”

Bucky shrugged, “Always have.” It was his turn to feel guilty, and if you had been completely sober you would have noticed a flash of sadness in his eyes before his smile was back. “Come on, Sam’ll be pissed if it all gets cold before you eat anything.”

The next morning you awoke with a start, breathing heavily, your hair stuck to your face with sweat. You immediately jumped out of bed, feeling dank and hot and dirty, and headed towards your en suite. You splashed some cold water in your face, hoping that would calm you down, and found yourself staring at your reflection in the mirror. That hadn’t just been a dream. That had felt real. It had been real. Squeezing your eyes shut and gripping tightly onto the sink basin, you tried to push the images, the sounds out of your head. Screaming, blinding lights, the sickening smell of antiseptic and bleach. With a shaky breath, you looked down at the insides of your elbows. It had been a week, but they were still bruised, green and yellow, a spotted red with puncture marks.

The sound of your door opening caught your attention, you stood up straight, ready to confront the intruder when you heard a familiar voice, your entire being relaxing.

“Doll? Are you okay?”

You quickly wiped the tears from your eyes and stepped into your room. A small, sad smile forming when your eyes met a worried Bucky. “Wh-what are you doing here?”

“You were screaming.” He said, regarding you with concern. “I wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

Tears started to form again. “I’m fine. It was just a dream.”

Bucky stepped towards you, but was cautious not to get too close. “Didn’t sound like it. What did you remember?”

You bit your lip. “Not much. It was dark, smelt like a hospital.”

He nodded slowly. “I know. Come here.” With that, you flung your arms around him, needing to feel his warmth, the distraction and comfort he could provide. He rubbed your back soothingly, “It’s okay,” he whispered, “You’re safe now. You’re home.”

As you clung to him, you couldn’t help the tears falling, soaking into his t-shirt. You knew that what you had dreamt about was a memory, the first memory you’d had since the Avengers had found you. But for the first time, with Bucky’s arms around you, you actually felt safe.

#mcu #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes #steve rogers

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geminimoonbeamx · 6 years

Text

Naive: Part 6

A/N: In which Y/N helps Pepper loosen up and Bucky is ever the good guy.

Word Count: 5k

Warnings: More cursing in this chapter because I have the mouth of a sailor. You’ll also probably gag at end, just sayin’

Summary: As the goddaughter of Tony Stark you were no stranger to the Avengers, but when you meet the newest member- you’re a little more then intrigued. Unfortunately for him, Bucky Barnes has caught your eye.

💘💘💘💘💘

You love Pepper.

You really do.

And you have repeated that notion to yourself, over and fucking over again as of late.

How many times had she gotten you out of trouble? Covered for you? Been there for you. The count was numberless. You literally couldn’t remember a time when she’d bailed on you or let you down.

Who were you to tell her to lower it down a notch with the wedding planning?

So, you had allowed her to drag you all over the city, from Queens to Brooklyn and thought the entirety of Manhattan. Running errands, non stop. Your brain was a little fried from the sensatory overload, from all of the white and lace. From the glaring lights of the many stores you frequent with her.

‘SOS, we’re at another bridal shop(gun emoji) (upside down face emoji)’

You send the text to Bucky. You’d definitely encouraged the senior citizen to start using his phone more, and the pages of text threads you had under his name on your phone made you smile. You were almost always talking to him, it was actually pretty lame the way you were constantly waiting for his next message. You couldn’t help it. He was really a funny fucker, when you got past that initial “I was tortured for decades, of course I have resting bitch face” surface.

'I’m sure you’ll survive, doll. If you need rescuing though, just holler. I’ll be there’ as usual you smile like a total loser at his message,

You follow a huffing Pepper out of the store. And into another.

You handle the near constant babble about table settings, what kind of china should she choose? Or maybe crystal? What about seating? Who should sit next to who? “We cant sit the Chinese ambassador next to Fury. They always go on about that damn gambling bet” And “The team shouldn’t be anywhere near Ross”

“Why are we inviting him again?” You’re in the fourth flower shop that you’d been to that day. On the hunt for the perfect shade of Larkspurs. Honestly, the hanging violet flowers all look the same to you but according to Pepper they’re “Too violet! I need lavender, you know like that powdery muted color”.

So with a pop of your lips, you keep your mouth closed. Wisely.

“Appearances. We’ve got to keep our rep nice and squeaky clean. Our public image has been under a lot of…stress. So the more keep it looking like everything is friendly between us and the government, the better” Pepper informs you, distracted, not looking up from the array of blossoms that lie between you.

“But things are better I thought” You implore, as a particularly fragrant array of peonies catch your eye. Their gorgeous, delicate and beautiful. You run your fingers along the lines of the petals, tracing them without touching.

“They are, for the most part”

That makes your eyebrow crook a little. What exactly did that mean? The team was back together, following rules(for all intents and purposes)… if Pepper didn’t look so distraught over the fact that you couldn’t find these fucking flowers, you probably would have pressed on about it. But you decide not to stress her out anymore, even from your place across the shop you could tell that she was wound tight.

You grab a couple of pictures of the peonies, posting them to your snapchat and other social media accounts quickly before making your way over to Pepper.

Slowly. Hesitantly. Like she was a bomb that might go off at anytime.

“Put the Irises down slowly and no one gets hurt” You instruct her with your arms held out in front of you melodramatically.

You really cant help being a smart ass. It was probably something you should work on.

She doesn’t even laugh, she just sets the bouquet down and sighs “We’re never going to find them, not in this city”

“Okay” You soothe, a little weirded out at the fact that the roles have dramatically changed and in this moment you are the parent “We’ll call the planner back and tell her that she was wrong. We’ll do some looking of our own and find where they do carry them, and we’ll have them shipped out”

Growing up is weird. Seeing your “elders” frazzled is weirder.

She takes a deep breath through her nose “I already looked, most places don’t ship because of how delicate they are”

“Fuck it, then we’ll go get them ourselves. We’ll take one of the quinjets” You’re completely serious. Even if you have to fly all the way to France, that’s what you’d be willing to do.

Pepper looks down at you, like everyone does because you’re a fucking mouse and everyone seems to dwarf you, and simpers at the promise in your voice. She could see that you were really making an effort, taking your “Maid of honor” duties extremely seriously. She knew she hadn’t been going easy on you, and yet you stayed resilient. Good natured. Keeping a cap on the complaints.

“Okay?” You conclude, giving her a look. Searching her face for acceptance.

“Okay” Pepper agrees. Thank fucking baby Jesus.

“Alright, can we do the rest of our planning at that bar across the street. I’m parched” Your feet hurt from the heeled booties you’d stupidly decided to wear and you knew the both of you could use a drank.

Well, Pepper could use more then one.

And that’s how you killed your soon to be officialized god mother from alcohol poisoning.

Again, you we’re being a dramatic asshole, but she was for all pretty much dead to the world as the two of you sat in the back of the sleek Lexus, en route of the tower. Her head was resting on your shoulder, her body slumped, her breathing coming out in soft wheezes. She smelled like a distillery, and you cant help but grin because somehow you’d managed to walk out of that bar, tipsy as hell, but still standing and Pepper was the one who was passed out drunk.

It had started innocently enough.

You two sitting at one of the booths, the tablet and Peppers wedding binder laid out in front of you as you went over the many checklists. You’d even ordered a platter of some kind of weird truffle nachos(that had actually ended up being super bomb) with your Mojito and Peppers Bloody Mary. But somehow one drink had turned to two, and two to three. After your third, you’d been smart enough to cut yourself off, knowing your tolerance level wasn’t very high. That, plus the daunting prospect of having to go and work at the Museum with a hangover the next morning had you pushing away a forth drink.

Even though Pepper kept insisting that you had another, that it would make her feel less bad if you drank as much as she did.

“I’m a horrible person” She had hiccupped, her face flushed pink from the warmth of the bar and the liquor “I shouldn’t be feeding you alcohol, I used take you shopping for school clothes. -another hiccup- Do you remember that dress you wore for your fifth grade school pictures. The one with the little monkey on it?”

“It was a koala” You defend yourself, trying not to be embarrassed at the memory of that hot mess of an outfit “And oh please, Virginia Potts, you’re the one that got me drunk for the first time”

“One. I gave you one Pina Colada at that party” She slurs before sipping the last of her Bloody Mary loudly, the ice clinging against the cup.

The party she was referring to was a fundraising Gala Stark Industries had thrown, raising money for some weird male pattern baldness charity. You had been twelve, and you had thrown up during Tony’s speech.

Not either of your’s greatest moment.

You just watched as she gets drunker and drunker, watch her inhibitions lift and the laughs that leave her. She looks more carefree then you’d seen her in…a long while. So even if you we’re technically getting her shitfaced in order to make sure she didn’t stroke out from the plethora of wedding planning stress, you felt you were doing a good thing here.

That you were gaining some major karmic points.

Although you weren’t nearly as inebriated as your copartner, you were tipsy. That kind of tipsy where you feel hot and brave and playful. Emboldend and stupid.

Really, there should be some kind of phone app that doesn’t allow you to send messages when your past a certain blood alcohol level.

'I should invent that’ you thought to yourself 'I’d be way richer then fucking Tony. Saving lives, left and right’

Unfortunately, there was no such thing.

And your texts to Bucky, well they just kept getting riskier and riskier. Your stomach clamping in anticipation every time you hit the send button.

-You having fun doll?

he’d asked when you’d told him you’d dragged Pepper to a bar in an attempt to sedate her with liquor.

-Not as much fun as Pepper is…I’d be having a lot more fun if you were here’

-That so? What would we be doing that would be so fun, mam?

-Mmhmm. And we could be doing whatever you wanted, sir.

He takes two minutes, literally to reply. More then the thirty seconds he usually does and you swear your teeth clench. You of course, send another message.

-I always have fun when your around(winky face emoji)

Why are you like this? You berate your self.

-I have always have a fun time with you too. You’re good company.

You roll your eyes. Was he not catching the fucking hint? Ugh, stupid super soldiers and their technologically handicapped brains. Ugh, them with their 40’s hardwired bullshit. Good company? What was that even supposed to mean? Who even talked like that anymore?

Screw it, you decide. If he wasn’t getting the hint, you’d have to be more straight forward.

-It’s only because you’re so cute.

You gnaw your lip as you send it. What more did you need to say to him. When would he get it?

-You just using me for my looks?

You bite a giggle at his reply. What an idiot.

-Maybe. Why, aren’t you using me for mine?

-Maybe

You swore, you could’ve scream at how this conversation was playing out. Why wouldn’t he just cave already?

-You know I think your gorgeous. Obviously.

See? Bold and stupid. And maybe a little bit desperate.

-Not nearly as gorgeous as you

Progress. Most guys would be sexting you up the wall by now, begging to see you. Pleading to “hang out”. But, you’d learned, Bucky wasn’t most guys. You had to try with him, work to figure him out.

-Well then do something about it

You sent that text, and then your attention was caught by the loud THUD of Peppers forehead hitting the table.

And those we’re the events that lead you to the present, where you we’re helping Pepper out of the back of the car, her arm around your shoulders as she tripped onto concrete floor of the garage.

“Do you need help, Ms. Y/N?” George, the driver, asks wearily and you wave him off.

“No, we’re okay, Georgie. Thanks for coming to get us, have a good rest of the night”

The little nap Pepper had during the ride home had sobered her up enough that she could walk again, leaning heavily against you for support, but she could put one foot in front of the other. She’s muttering incoherencies as you make your way to into the elevator.

“I just really want this to be special, you know?” you catch a full sentence.

“And it will be, don’t worry” You reassure her, trying not to laugh. You knew, all to well, what it was like to be the drunkest person in the room.

“You’re such a good human, you know that?”

“I try”

“I think you should start wearing your hair in pig tails again”

When you get to her and Tonys floor, the penthouse at the tip top of the building, your not expecting what greets you.

As the metal doors open, they reveal none other then Anthony Stark . In his robe, his arms folded across his chest. Of course he knew the two of you we’re coming up, he’d been watching the security cameras ever since Pepper had called him, clearly out of her mind. You’d both worried the shit out of him, even though he knew reasonably you were both capable enough to take care of yourselves.

How the hell was he not supposed to worry, at least a little bit, when it came to the two of you?

The look on his face so stern and parent like you really are almost scared again. He used to give you that look when you’d run off, when you’d get caught with boys…

When Pepper begins laughing, flat out cracking up so hard that it echos around the vast, quiet, tense space you cant help but put a hand on your mouth to stop from joining her. You fail, miserably.

Tony watches you, both of you, drunk and cackling and ridiculous. The smile that cracks across his face is involuntary.

“Come on, you lush” He urges Pepper, taking her arm, pulling her away from you. She kisses his cheek sloppily, cooing how much she missed him.

You look away. You weren’t one of those people who were like grossed out by your parental figures being affectionate…okay maybe you were a little grossed out.

“I’m going to- go. Goodnight guys” You excuse yourself, jutting your thumb back in the direction of the elevator.

“Thanks for this” Tony refers to the giggling, drunk mess of a redhead in his arms.

“Your welcome” You singsong, before the doors close again.

Its a little ridiculous, how much time you spend in elevators in this damn building, you utter to yourself. The liquor haze is starting to fade and intensify, all at once and you spin on your heels a little bit, reaching into your handbag or your phone.

The texts on the screen slap you in the face.

-You drive me fucking crazy, do you know that?

-Where are you now?

-When are you going to be back?

-Y/N

Giddy. You feel giddy and girlishly foolish at how electrified those texts leave you. Doesn’t he know that had always been the goal? Doesn’t he know he made you feel just as insane? You needed to see him, you unsober mind decides.

“FRIDAY?” You ask the nothingness around you, and she answers.

“Yes, Ms, Y/N?”

“Where exactly is Bucky’s room?” Because he was always coming to you. Your floor, seeking you out. You’d never actually been to his room before. You knew if you tried to find it on your own you’d get extremely lost.

“Mr. Barnes room is located on the 22nd floor. Along with Mr. Rogers’ and Mr. Wilsons” She answers back and you quickly press the corresponding button on the elevator control panel.

“And which unit is his?” Because you didn’t want to wake Steve or Sam up, all the damn doors looked the same in this place.

“The second on the right hand side”

You take a deep breath.

“Is there anything more I can help you with, Ms. Y/N? Would you like me to alert Mr. Barnes that you’re coming up?”

“No, thank you FRIDAY. That wont be necessary. If you could please keep this conversation between the two of us girls, though, I’d appreciate it” You inform her, knowing that in reality Tony never checked the logs…but still…

“Of course, I’ll ensure complete confidentiality of this exchange. Is there anything else?”

“Nope. Thank you FRIDAY Have a…umm goodnight?” Talking to an AI is hard sometimes. Did you come off as polite or completely idiotic?

It had been the struggle of your life. Growing up with all of these scientists. FRIDAY tells you to do the same and you wonder if she had eyes, would she be rolling them at you.

The elevator ride seems to drone on forever and your nerves have you all kind of twisted.

You rummage around and pull a compact out of your purse, checking yourself over. Reapplying your lipstick, fluffing your hair. Fixing your boobs, adjusting them in your bra to where your cleavage is perky and attention grabbing. Rollerballing the perfume-stick over your wrists, dabbing them on your chest in an attempt to make you reek less of bar smoke and gin.

Fuck, why did you look so…ugh. Your cheeks were too red. You looked too flushed, your eyes too wild. Your head is swimming with conflicting thoughts when your reach his floor.

You swear, you’re having literal heart palpitations. When was the last time a boy had made you this anxious? You compose yourself, or at least pretend to. Your chin rising as you flip your hair over your shoulder in an attempt to silence all of the chaos you were feeling. A true example of fake it til you make it. Of course you trip on your heels as you exit the elevator, barley managing to catch yourself. Yeah, real slick.

Slinking down the hallway, you hope your being as quiet and ninja like as you feel. You stalk, almost cat burglarish past the doors, the ones that Steve and Sam slept behind, and made your way to Bucky’s. Your heart was pounding in your throat and the anxious blanket that seemed to enfold you made the back of your neck perpetrate.

Be cool, this is fine. It’s fine. You’re fine. He is DAMN fine…

Your reciting this inner mantra to yourself as you rap, lightly enough that you hoped it wouldn’t catch anyone else’s attention, on Bucky’s door. Your knuckles tapping out a little rhythm.

You really think you might chew your bottom lip off, in those moments you wait for him to answer.

When the electrically operated door finally glides open, you spit out your lip, attempting to you know, not look like you were totally freaking out, and grin up at him.

“Y/N?” Bucky’s steely eyes are wide, eyebrows shot so high they near disappear into the fringe of loose hair that falls into his face… but, it’s not really his eyes that catch your attention.

Usually, Bucky’s donned in either his tactile gear, of one of his Henley’s. Hoodies maybe? Even a leather jacket or two thrown in there. He was always, for the most part, covered up. But he’s standing in the doorway of his room donning only a snug, gray t-shirt and a pair of black sweatpants. His arms we’re on full display, and you force yourself not to stare.

“Hey there, handsome” You hope you sound more confident then you feel.

After your little text messages, and the fact that you hadn’t replied to his own, Bucky had been tied in knots.

He didn’t know what to do. Did he text you again, he was still getting the hand of this whole texting all of the time thing but he didn’t want to seem…desperate. Did he call you? Nah, that would be even worse. So he sat, fidgeting on the end of his bed for the better portion of an hour. He couldn’t really go talk to Steve, not wanting to hear the disapproving tone he knew he’d receive.

He could go find you? Hunt you down, scower the streets of Manhattan until he located you? A bar across the street from a flower shop, there couldn’t be too many of those, right?

It’s pathetic, how long he’d debated that idea, before dismissing it. Too much, that would be too much.

He had just started to calm down, a bit, still reaching over to check his phone every two seconds, when there was a knock on his door. He grumbled as he’d risen, thinking it had to be Steve. Or maybe Sam. He really wasn’t in the best of moods, so he answers it intending on telling whichever man it may be to “kindly fuck off”. He feels gob smacked when he see’s you.

“Y/N?” He could only sputter as you gazed up at him, your arms folded over your chest. A coy, near sinful smile on your plump lips. You we’re the very last person he had expected to find outside of his room.

“Hey there handsome” Your voice is different. He’d gotten used to your affectionate nick-name and you called him it just as often, maybe more, then you called him Bucky. But there was intention behind it now. Your tone smoky. Your eyes near predatory.

“Hey doll” His eyes scan the dark hallway behind you. Had anyone seen you come in? “What are you doing here?”

Your lips pull into a little pout and he instantly regrets his choice of words.

“I mean if you don’t want me here…” You try not to visually deflate as you feel the first waves of rejection. “I could uh- I could just go”

You fail.

You’d messed up, you chide yourself mentally. You’d pushed at one of his boundaries, and you shouldn’t have.

“No! That’s not what I meant. I just- I wasn’t expecting you. You’ve never been up here, you surprised me a little bit, that’s all babydoll” Bucky can see it on your face, the hurt that had began to cloud your features and he tries to correct himself because why did his brain have to go so muddy with you? He couldn’t ever manage to say the right thing.

“Good surprise or bad surprise?” You quip, that deviousness seeping back in and he cant help but grin.

“Definitely good” he doesn’t miss a beat and your flooded with warmth, with a gnawing need to touch him. There’s so much skin, so much that he usually kept covered. You ache to run your fingers along the exposed flesh, for him to allow him to touch him. For him to finally touch you the way you we’re dying for him to.

“Are you going to invite me in, Buck?” it’s a whisper. You want him to understand, that he doesn’t have to. That even though you want him to grab you, he could say no and you wouldn’t be mad(you’d be extremely disappointed, but not mad). You don’t want to push him. But as you gaze pleadingly upwards, through your surreally long eyelashes he doesn’t know how he’d ever be able to tell you no.

“Yeah, come in” He ushers you into the room and you slide past him in the narrow door frame, making sure to brush your self against him as you do, a feather light, barley noticeable touch.

He notices.

Bucky’s room is simple, you acknowledge as you look over it. Clean, the sharp modern décor that Tony had opted for, for the entire tower barley touched. There was a suede jacket thrown over the armchair near the large window like door that lead to the small, connecting. patio. There was a littering of papers and notebooks at his desk, and an open box of Oreo’s on his bedside table. Other then that- it didn’t really look like it was his. Like he’d settled into it, yet. Hadn’t he been here for nearly a year?

“What have you been up to tonight, Buck?” You start, innocently, as you toss your purse onto the armchair and take a seat on the foot of his bed.

He doesn’t know how to approach this. Well he knows, instinctually what he wants to do. What his body is yelling at his head to say. Seeing you there, perched on his bed was doing things to him. The way you were leaning back on your arms made your chest jut out, your heavy breasts on display. The thin material of your shirt not doing much to contain your ample cleavage.

You notice the way his eyes roam, it electrifies you. Thrills you.

“Nothing much, it was pretty routine. I aint got any grand stories for you, doll, sorry”

You chuckle, he’s just standing there. Looking so out of place. You cant have that, him being so obviously uncomfortable. In his own room of all places. You reach forward, your hand seeking his. The cool, prosthetic fingers are the ones you lace your own with. Tugging on them.

“Come 'ere” You urge him, voice pleading. Silvery. He obliges and sits next to you, your thighs touching you he’s so close.

He’s not nearly close enough.

Your fingers are still gripping his, and you pull his prosthetic arm into your lap slowly, gauging his reaction. He doesn’t stop you, not even when your fingertips begin to trail along the metal plates. You…he’d never given you the chance to really appreciate the appendage. It was an impressive piece of technology, the plates detailed and cutting edge. The science behind it-jeeze. Your mom would have been flipping her shit, you think to yourself. Would have been extremely fascinated by the vibranium panels. They way they moved, and reacted.

“Can you feel this?” You wonder, looking up to meet his eyes. He nods, gulping once.

“I can feel the heat, and the pressure of your touch…I cant feel the texture of your skin, though” Bucky had never had anyone handle his arm with such delicate care. With such child like curiosity. His heart was pounding in his ears.

You grab his other hand, then. The flesh one, and giving it a quick squeeze, and then flipping it, top open, so that you can trace his palm. With those same barley there touches. Your nails tickling his skin in a way that nearly had him twitching.

“Y/N” His voice betrays him. It’s something between a warning and a plea.

“Bucky” You tease back, giving him a challenging look. Challenging him to fucking finally take what he wanted.

…you could sense it would take a little more coaxing. Sigh. This man…

“I missed you all day” You confess to him, as you link your hands with both of his, holding them tight “All I could think about when I was at that bar was coming home and finding you”

His mouth goes dry, brain foggy.

You supplement his lack of words with your own. Still mojito fuled enough to continue on “And telling you that you drive me crazy too. That I want you to touch me so fucking badly, I think I might die sometimes. I want you, Bucky. I want you so bad” Your voice is cracking by the end, and you can barley look at him. So you bury your face in his shoulder, pressing a kiss against the sleeve covered vibranium.

“Tell me you want me, too” It’s an order.

It’s you begging.

Begging him to fucking stop this, to let you both out of your misery.

“I want you, Christ, you know I want you” Bucky croaks in admition as he watches you worship the physical part of himself that he hates the most. Kissing the arm he hid from the world, the one that had committed so many atrocities.

“How bad?” Your kisses are trailing upwards, over his collarbone, under his sharp jaw. Every inch of exposed skin that you can get.

“So bad” He breathes, harshly, as you nip on his earlobe. You tug it between your teeth.

“Then do something about it” you repeat your words from earlier. Hearing them, live, coming from your pretty mouth sends him spiraling and he turns his head, his lips capturing your own.

Finally.

Mystically.

Magically.

When you talk about this with him in the future you’ll tell him how kissing him made you feel like your soul was lurching our of your body, made your world spin and your nervous system scream at me; 'Bitch what are you doing to me’ as you sighed and moaned and knotted your fingers in his hair. Also, in the future Bucky will tell you that you nearly killed him. That you made him muster up every ounce of self control he had ever had.

When he’d pulled away, you’d just looked for other places you occupy your mouth. The cleft in his chin, his pretty jaw.

“Y/N” Bucky breathed, ragged, as he tried in what seemed like vein to get a hold of himself “you taste like a distillery”

You giggle at his assumption, railing upwards to his ear “What? You don’t like it?”

“No-it’s not that- We just cant do this tonight” His hands go to your shoulders, stilling you and you sigh, huffily and glare at him. Your face contorted in the most adorable pout he’d ever encountered.

“Why not?” you start “Don’t come at me with any of that chivalrous 1940’s bullshit, okay? I’m a grown woman, I know what I want and I don’t need you to think that I don’t”

He lets you rant, and he really does try to keep the smirk off of his face.

“Stop looking at me like that!”

“Look, you’re drunk and you have to be up bright and early” He tries to reason but heat fills your eyes “And I cant help the chivalrous bullshit. It’s the way my ma’ raised me and I know it aint right for us to do…anything else, not tonight”

His words are like a pick axe to your heard.

“You know, I’ve never really been rejected before” It’s a thought, that you’d intended to keep private- but your inebriated mouth had different plans.

“Hey” Bucky strokes your hair “You know that’s not what I’m doin’”

You cant meet his eyes though, you look anywhere but at him and he sighs and rests his nose against the side of your face. If you only knew how desperately he was trying to be the good guy in this situation.

“I can go” you tell him, even though you want to do anything but. No, you want to stay here forever, as cliché as that sounds. With his scruffy face pressed against your own.

“Or you can stay- I could use one of those cuddle sessions your so good at” His hand comes to your cheek, the one that his face isn’t pressed into and strokes the aple of it with a tenderness you’d never encountered. No one had ever been so soft with you before. It was always touching- grasping and needing. But not with Bucky.

Bucky was different.

You huff and turn to face him finally, running your nose against his for a moment “Fine. But you owe me”

And he did, you make a mental note of what he’d have to do to pay you back.

You fall asleep in Bucky’s bed, wrapped in his arms, the smell of him surrounding you. You sleep shitty-aly, as you always do when you’ve been drinking. But Bucky, he doesn’t remember the last time he’d gotten so much rest. He’s out like a light five minutes in- and once again, he thinks before the foggy haze of sleep envelopes his brain, he knows he’s in some deep shit when it comes to you.

———————–

Okay I know I keep promising smut and trust me guys it’s coming but every time I write these two I just see them holding each other. Like seriously this story gives me all the feels because I feel like Y/N is such a sexual character- except when it comes to Bucky. With him he brings out this whole other side to her. Okay, leave me some feedback! And again- the taglist for this story is open! Love you, babycakes!

@devenrenee @skeletoresinthebasement @kendallefire @mellifluousbabe @toniinhere @agentmstark @purplekitten30 @bellaballanda @yslbucky @arabellaaurorabarnes @prinxessofspace @supernaturally-lucky @sngforme @kyritha @the-strandedgypsy @teenagekixks @arabellaaurorabarnes @saysay125 @papi-chulo-bucky @iamwarrenspeace

#bucky barnes x plus size reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnesxreader #Bucky Barnes x reader #tony stark #tony stark daughter #plus size reader #poc reader #mcu smut #pepper potts #pining

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xxmudcakexx · 6 years

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#Living with MONSTA X# Part 12

Plot: When your mother decided for you to move to your father in South Korea, you got the most dangerous job. It wasn’t planned for it all to be like this, but when your father had to leave for 5 months, you had to take his job together with a substitute. Your chores was to live together with a boyband which you didn’t know about until the day came. All you knew was that he worked in the KPOP industry. And with the top of that, you had to live with your ultimate favourite group. But a girl in the dorm? Alone? Alone with 7 guys? That was the day it all started. The day you came to hell

Genre: FLUFF/ANGST

Words: 2527

Pairing: Minhyuk | Reader

Authors Note: am so sorry for not writing these past days. I’ve been having some tough days and decided to focus on something else. And I’m currently working on a doctor one shot about Minhyuk. Yes our beautiful Minhyuk in the doctor uniform… ;) So I’m spending time writing it and planning. So I’m sorry for not being active. I will update in the beginning of the week. I hope you like this chapter. - Author ”Anonymous”

It was Year 2008 when you met your cousin for the first time. You and your mother had gone to South Korea to greet the new family member. He was a newborn boy with a silky blue pyjamas, a perfect baby blue colour. His eyes were small, but became big when he opened them. The hands were smaller than a potato, and softer than a blanket.

”Mother, why don’t you have one of these babies?” You asked. She looked at you with anxiety, as if she was thinking about it.

”We already have your brother sweetie” She said with her wonderful smile.

”But I mean like this one?” You said while pointing at the baby infront of you, as if it was a doll.

”Sweetie, I can’t just get one of those. It’s a baby, just like you and your brother”

”Oh right..” You said while studying your cousin. You had your eyes on him the whole time as he slept in his mothers arms. You wanted one of these so bad. A baby that could wear pyjamas all and sleep in your arms.

”Mother, I will get one when I get older. A girl with dark hair and with a smile that could change the world”

”Angelina, in order for that you must find your prince” Your aunt said while she looked at her husband who smiled at her. You turned your eyes from her to her husband and then back at the baby.

”I will find my prince. A prince that will help me just like my father helped my mom when she was young. Just like she made him happy when he was stressed out” You said.

Looking back at the time when you were young, was something that you would remember all your life. The thoughts, questions and every moment where you could walk on the street and point at babies, or kids in general. You loved kids more than you loved anything else when you were younger. But with the years, you realized that pointing at every baby would be weird as you grew older.

”It’s time to leave for photoshoot” Kihyun yelled through the apartment. You woke up to his voice and slowly walked out in the kitchen where everyone stood dressed and ready to go. You pointed at them and then at Kihyun who smiled at you, but with a slight of fear.

”Goodmorning! We’ll see you this afternoon” He said. You ran to the door and held your arms crossed with irritation, something that had been happening during the latest days.

”No, you’re not leaving! I was going to wake you up, make breakfast and follow you there” you instructed. Everyone looked at you and tried to get past you.

”It’s your free day” Hoseok said while panicking. You rolled your eyes and looked after Minhyuk who currently was hiding behind Hyunwoo. You laughed with disappointment and walked past them to the kitchen with silent steps. You took a glas of water and heard how everyone was leaving.

”I’ll be out in five” a voice said. You looked at Minhyuk who walked towards you. You felt a sudden feeling inside of you which made you blush. The butterfly feelings that you had in the early time of relationship were going on. You followed his gaze until he stood right infront you.

”Let’s help you get dressed” He said as he reached out for your hand. You walked with him to your room and got dressed before heading out to the van. You looked at your hand rather shocked of what he just had done. A moment ago you had your eyes on your boyfriend who was hiding from you, and now he had dragged you out to his car.

”Ey Minhyuk, why did you take her with you?” Jooheon asked. You still had your eyes on Minhyuk as he showed you to sit down in the car at the back. You did what he told you and sat down in the back with him beside you. You smiled at him as you felt his arm embracing you a little. You leaned against him and closed your eyes.

It had been a while since the first started. Since the first with the members and families started where everyone disagreed with each other. The boys had been understanding with Minhyuk going out in media, telling everyone that we were in a relationship, and that we were getting married. But you and your family was against it which made a chaotic situation everywhere.

”So when are the dates getting settled?” Kihyun had asked just some days after the whole fight. You had looked at him with eyes of sorrow that his family had won. But with the world tour getting announced, everything had changed. The wedding got postponed and still after 5 months you were just a fiancee. But in the latest week something had happened to you.

You were walking around moody the most of your time in work and in private which made the boys try to get away from you as much as possible. You got mad at Minhyuk easily and never really hanged out with them as your father gave you paper work instead. And that’s one of the reasons why they tried to get to work without you this morning, after promising that you would go with him.

The moody days, also had the love days where you felt extremely in love that nothing could make you think of anything else than him. And some days you were crying your eyes out to everything. Some days the boys would joke about you being pregnant, and some days they would just say that you had your PMS. Did you sleep with Minhyuk anything more after the first time? No.

”What are you thinking about?” Minhyuk asked while having his eyes on you, not letting his sight off of you for a second. You looked up at him with a smile and reached up your hand to his chin and caressed it for a moment.

”I thought about you..”

”What happened to my moody fiancée?” He asked with a slight of laughter. You just smiled and gave him a peek on the lips. He smiled and kissed you before the boys made disgusted whining.

”I love you” you said. He smiled and held your hand with the glimpse in his eyes. The glimpse that told you that the love you felt for him, he felt for you. You looked out of the window and thought about your plans for the day, the plans that you had made the day before.

”I’m leaving the photoshoot earlier today due a meeting” You said looking at him. He nodded and smiled towards you. You closed your eyes again with a feeling of that everything was perfect. You wanted your whole life with him.

”Mrs Lee” a nurse called in the reception. You stood up from your seat and walked with her towards the room. It was Mr Parks office that you had been in just two weeks ago after taking some tests. The mood swings and weird habits were making your father worried which made him take you to the hospital for examination.

”How are you doing Mrs Lee?” He asked. You laughed and looked down with the thought of ”Mrs Lee”.

”I’m not married yet you know. And today I’m in the love mood I guess” you said. You shrugged and looked at him with a worried smile. He smiled a little, but with a worry.

”The results are out and I wanted your father to be here with you, but I guess we have to do it ourselves” He said. You sighed and held your thumbs hoping for you to not be pregnant.

”We found something”

”Just say it! I can take it whatever it is” You said frustrated. He closed his eyes and just when he was about to open his mouth, the door opened. You looked back and saw Hoseok who walked in. You stared at him for a minute before asking him why he was there.

”I ended up done sooner than the others, and since I knew that you were getting your results” He said as he sat down beside you.

”Hello Mr Shin” Mr Park said.

”Hello, I’m here as a substitute for her father” He said with a smile on his lips. A smile full of happiness. You laughed at him and turned your eyes back to Mr Park.

”You’re in stage 4 of brain cancer.” He said making you stare at Hoseok who gasped. You looked at Mr Park not knowing what to do as he continued.

”But, you’re also pregnant” He said. You stared at him and started to laugh out loud.

”Yeah funny joke”

”Angelina.. You’re expecting in 3 months, and you haven’t noticed the belly?” He asked. You gulped and tried to show no emotions as Hoseok looked at you in shock.

”You knew you were pregnant?” He asked.

”No.. I just knew something was up”

”Angelina, it’s not healthy for you to keep the baby. You’re in the last stages…”

”Does this mean that I’m going to die?” You asked. He looked at you en went silent, and suddenly Hoseok fell down from his chair and passed out by shock.You sat down and wondered what to do an think. You looked at Mr Park who called the nurses, and then at the window.

”Mr Park” You said 10 minutes later after Hoseok had been carried out. Mr Park looked at you with concern.

”Yes”

”I… Is there a chance for the babys survival?”

”There is, since you have some months left. But I can’t say for sure how you’re going to handle it or how the baby are going to handle it. You’re very sick and should’ve noticed sooner. But there’s a big chance that you won’t be able to see your baby if you give birth” He said. You looked at him and nodded.

”How much of a chance is there that I will survive and see her or him before I die?”

”A chance of 4%” He whispered. You gulped and looked down on your knees. Everything that you had felt for the past months were now in places. You understood why you were sick often, and moody. You knew that your headache didn’t occur due to migraine. Everything fell in its place. Your eyes turned to the window once again.

”I will keep the baby, and if I die on that day, I will die. I have amazing people in my life that will take care of the baby for me.” You said.

”Okay.. So you’re saying no to medication?”

”I’m saying no to every medication that could hurt my child” You said as you stood up. You looked at him and bowed before walking out. You stared at the ground as you were looking for Hoseok. You found him in a bed staring at the ceiling.

”Let’s go home” You said. He sat up and walked with you to a taxi. You closed your eyes for a moment and fell a tear as you went home. Hoseok walked with you into the apartment and made your favourite spot in the couch comfy, as he told you to sit down. He gave you the access to netflix and walked to the kitchen.

”What are you doing?” You asked.

”Cooking food for the boys”

”You will burn the kitchen” You said. He laughed and opened up a book with recipes as he stared to cook. You looked at movies waiting for your Minhyuk to come home. Inside of you a mini Minhyuk was sleeping peacefully. And inside of your brain, a Minhyuk hater was growing. A hater that would kill me.

”It smells awful” a voice said. You turned your tired look to the hall where Changkyun stood. You waved your hand at him and saw the rest of the others enter the apartment. Jooheon ran to the couch and jumped down making Hoseok scream.

”CAREFUL! DON’T HURT HER” He screamed making everyone jump.You looked at him rather surprised and smiled a little.

”What’s wrong with her?”

”N..nothing” he said. You smiled at him and looked at Minhyuk who already had his eyes on you. You turned your eyes away from him to the movie and hugged the pillow tired.

”Are you tired?” He asked confused. You nodded and looked up at him. He sighed and carried you to the bedroom and put you down on the bed. You looked at him and studied his eyes carefully. Tears were forming in your eyes and you tried to hold it in.

”Something is wrong” He said.

”Yeah.. I was at the hospital today and..”

”Who’s dead?”

”No one” You said. He breathed out and you bit your lip and was about to talk when Hoseok called.

”I have something I must say” You said while the boys sat in the couch and on the floor. They all looked at you waiting for something. You looked at Hoseok who stood up and held your hand. You looked at everyone who seemed to stare at you holding hands, even Minhyuk who looked pissed.

”I was at the hospital today since I haven’t been feeling good lately. I know you’ve all noticed my bad mood, some of you noticed me acting weird, throwing up, feeling sick lately” You started. They all waited. You looked at Minhyuk and then down.

”I was at the hospital two weeks ago and took tests to see if something was up, and well it was. I need you guys to breathe.. since Hoseok passed out when he heard the news” You mumbled. Everyone turned their eyes to Hoseok who stared at the floor with sorrow.

”What’s up Angie?” Jooheon asked. You looked at Changkyun and sighed.

”I’m pregnant” You said. Everyone stared at you, and you looked at Minhyuk who seemed to be in shock. You closed your eyes, before you felt arms around you body and people clapping their hands.

”AM I GETTING A MINI MINHYUK?” He asked with joy. You felt your tears falling and looked at Hoseok for help.

”Minhyuk sit down, and please be quiet. She hasn’t told you everything” He said.

”Is this the moment where you tell us that Wonho is the father??” Hyungwon asked making everyone look at him. He shrugged and looked back at you quite confused.

”I’m sick. I’m in the last stages of Brain Cancer, which means that the tumor has been reaching out everywhere. There’s no cure and I’m pregnant. So the chance of the babys survival is not the biggest, but still bigger than my chance” You said while crying. ”But I will keep the baby since I’m far in the pregnancy, with three months left. And I will probably not survive the day of the birth. So please.. Be the fathers”

”Y..You’re sick?” Minhyuk asked with a voice filled with cries. You looked at him and cried as he stood up from his seat embracing you while crying too.

#monsta x #monsta_x #monstax #minhyuk #shownu #wonho #jooheon #kihyun #hyungwon #im

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join-the-joywrite · 4 years

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Women in War -- 10

All Maggie Maravillla ever wanted was to help people. She never imagined losing damn near everything when winning a war.

WiW masterpost

Chapter 10

"Maggie!"

Bucky watched in amusement as rapid French flew from Olivier's mouth as soon as he entered the empty office. Having spent a little over a month and a half listening to Maggie and Olivier converse, Bucky had picked up a few phrases and words. It wasn't enough for him to be conversing with someone in the language but it was enough to piece together what Olivier was saying. Rather, it would have been enough if Olivier wasn't speaking so fast. Bucky caught a few words here and there that he understood, but he wasn't quite sure he understood everything. He wasn't even sure he was hearing the right words.

After all, what would an owl and a liver have to do with war?

"Non, Ollie, tu peux rejoindre les Howling Commandos."

"Wait," Bucky said, stepping back towards the pair. He stood next to Maggie and looked at Olivier. "Correct me if I'm wrong, you want to join the Howling Commandos?"

"Oui."

"Why?"

"I want to fight beside toi et Maggie."

"Non," Maggie said firmly, "tu vas rentrer en France."

"Non! Je viens avec vous que cela vous plaise ou non. Tu ne peux pas m'arrêter."

Maggie folded her arms and exhaled sharply. Bucky put his hand on her back. "Mags, you can't stop him if he wants to.

"See?" Olivier cried, gesturing up at Bucky, "he understands!"

"No! You are going back to France to your family, Olivier Enzo!"

Olivier was mildly stunned. Of course, he had heard Maggie speaking in other languages, but she always spoke to him in French. To hear her address him in English was somewhat unsettling. "Je n'ai pas de famille," he said softly.

Maggie's entire body relaxed as he mouth fell open slightly. "What?"

"I don't have a family," Olivier repeated, glancing at Bucky. "My mother was a nurse and my father served in the French army in the first war. I lived with Mamie until she died when I was five. I got into an orphanage and didn't get out until I enlisted in the second war. Je n'ai rien à retourner."

Maggie glanced at Bucky, whose expression mirrored her wide eyes. "Tu peux rester avec moi, chouchou," Maggie eventually said softly, pulling Olivier into the hug she'd grown accustomed to giving him.

Two floors down, in the base's sleeping quarters, Becky listened to Howard's heartbeat. "Howard."

"Mm?"

"I noticed you're not scared of my brother anymore."

"You almost died, Beck," Howard mumbled, still trying to doze off. His arm looped tighter around Becky's waist, pulling her closer. "I couldn't give a damn if even Tio Hugo saw me kiss you."

"What about my dad?" Becky asked, amused.

"I've never been afraid of your father, Beck, he adores me."

Becky laughed softly. She paused. Then, "Howard?"

"Mm?"

"What would you have done if I'd been among the captured?"

Howard opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling. "Steve definitely wouldn't have taken his rescue mission alone, I can guarantee you that. Speaking hypothetically, I would threaten to pull supplies from the army if a rescue mission to Azzano wasn't planned immediately. I guess I don't actually know what I'd do, but I hope I never have to find out." Howard paused. "What would you do, if it were the other way around?"

"Set Azzano on fire."

"You scare me sometimes, Beck."

"I'm serious. I have the firepower to get it done. I would've caused some serious damage. I wouldn't have had to find the self-destruct switches on the factory. I'd have blown it to hell myself."

"All that for me?" Howard asked.

"Why so surprised?" Becky asked, smiling, "didn't think I loved you enough for that?"

"I . . . no! No, I just . . . really love you a lot, okay? And I'm very afraid something's gonna happen to you and I won't be able to deal with it because I have literally just realised how much I love you and it scares me. It scares me so much. When I found you alone, without Bucky, without Mags, I think my heart actually broke for how broken you were. When you never called us to come and get you, I panicked. I couldn't deal with the thought that something might've happened to you out there."

Becky waited as Howard took a deep breath to gather his words. It wasn't often he spoke so openly. After a second, he gently pushed her off him and sat up. Becky sat up too, adjusting Howard's t-shirt on her shoulders.

"Look, I know what war is, Becks. I know that it's dangerous and I also know that you're a highly trained agent but that doesn't stop me from worrying. What if, you know? Anything could happen. I saw what happened to you when you and Peggy went for Erskine. Beck, I never want to see you like that again. I don't know what I'd do if you left me."

Becky stared at Howard for a second. She reached out to brush his unkempt hair from his eyes. Her hand rested at the back of his neck for a moment before she tugged. Howard moved closer without any further invitation. He knew then and there that he belonged to a certain Rebecca Latimer Barnes, and there was nothing anyone could do or say that would change that. Ever.

///////////////

Howard was late. Everyone was sure why. Everyone except Steve, apparently.

"What about you and Stark?" Steve called as he followed a furious Peggy. He paused briefly to wipe Lorraine's kiss away. "How do I know you two haven't been . . . fonduing?!"

Peggy halted abruptly and shot Steve a scratching glare. "You still don't know a bloody thing about women!"

Once he got into the lab, he carefully asked Howard what fondue was.

"Fondue is just cheese and bread, my friend," Howard said. He frowned. "Why? What did you do?"

Steve mumbled something under his breath.

Becky, who was tucked into a corner of the lab that had become hers, looked up from some odd trinket she fiddled with. They quickly discovered that Howard seemed to go into a state of incredibly high panic if Becky was out of sight for too long. Becky didn't mind. She enjoyed watching Howard work and while mechanics and science may not be her forte, she was curious to know what enthralled Howard while he worked.

Howard glanced up from the display he was laying out for Steve. "Sorry, what was that?"

"I asked Peggy if . . ."

Howard, now amused, leaned on the table. "Rogers . . . what did you do?"

"I asked Peggy if you and her . . . fondued."

Howard blinked very slowly. Becky snorted.

"What happened?" Maggie asked as she walked into the lab, carrying a folded stack of cloths she passed to Howard. "Here's the extras, Howard," she added softly.

"Steve asked Pegs if she and Howard fondued." Becky said, snickering.

"Fondued?" Maggie repeated, not quite understanding.

"When we flew Rogers and Beck into the Hydra camp, I asked Peggy if she wanted to catch a late-night fondue and Steve over here. . ."

"Dios mío," Maggie mumbled under her breath. "Steve, did you really say that to Pegs? Why on earth would you think she and Howard have anything going on? Have you not been around one or the other of us these past few months?"

Becky bounced out of her spot and took a seat on the edge of the table Howard leaned against. She smiled at Steve over Howard's shoulder. "Do you want to know a secret, Steve?"

Steve raised his eyebrows.

Becky put her arms around Howard's waist and rested her chin on his shoulder. Howard knew where she was going and couldn't help grinning. "We fondued!"

"I didn't know! I've never heard of fondue before! Stop being -- wait."

Steve stared hard at the couple. Becky tilted her head on Howard's shoulder, while Howard raised her clasped hands to his lips and kissed the back of her hand.

Maggie raised her eyebrows at Steve. "Steve? You still with us?"

Steve stared at Maggie. "They -- they -- but Becky -- since when? How? Why? Where? Wait!" Steve lowered his voice. "Does Bucky know?"

Becky and Howard nodded.

"Did you know?" Steve asked Maggie, who nodded. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"I thought you knew! Everyone knows they're together! Even Olivier knows. You're pretty much the only person ever who doesn't know. How didn't you notice? They're always -- you see?!"

Steve looked as Maggie wildly gestured to see Becky and Howard whispering to each other. Becky laughed softly before kissing Howard.

"The serum made me blind," Steve decided.

"No, doll, that's just you. Now come on, Howard and I worked on some equipment to go with your new skills. You need to test some of it out. Beck, will you be fitting a suit?"

Becky glanced at Howard. "Uh . . . we didn't talk about that yet."

Maggie nodded as Howard's hands closed further over Becky's, almost unnoticed. "Sure. But I need Howard right now. I can't find the suit we were working on."

Steve remained stunned for the next ten seconds.

By the time Peggy returned and Steve had lain claims to a Vibranium shield, Becky was back in her corner and fuddling with something else.

Steve held up the shield to Peggy. "What do you think?"

Maggie ducked for cover when Peggy picked up a pistol off the table and fired several times. Satisfied, she put it down. "Yes, I think it works."

Steve and Howard watched her leave in amazement. Steve passed Howard a piece of paper. "I had some ideas about the uniform."

"Sure, pal, whatever you want."

Maggie peered over the table. "Steve, what did you really say to her?"

"Lorraine," Becky called from her corner, "Steve kissed her."

"You kissed Lorraine?!"

"She kissed me!"

///////////////

Maggie pushed a box towards Becky.

"What's this?"

"Christmas present. Haven't given you one in years but you kept coming back from your missions, so I received plenty of gifts."

"You're a total sap, Maggie Maravilla, did you know that?"

Maggie smiled. "Maybe, Becky, but you love me anyway."

"True," Becky shrugged, lifting the lid. "What's this?"

Maggie took a deep breath. Her warm, amused smile was gone, replaced with something a little sombre, as she tied the locket around Becky's neck. "War is war, Becks, and I've seen a lot of men and women who never made it back. I know you're staying here for the same reason I'm going. I don't blame you, not do I wish you'd have chosen to come with. But if something happens and I don't come back -- and I really mean don't come back -- I don't want you to forget me."

"Mags. . ."

"Becky, you and your brother are the best people I never knew I needed until I had you both. If I had to lose one of you, I'd be lost. It's all I can do to hope that I mean to you as much as you mean to me."

"Oh, Maggie," Beccky whispered, standing up to hug Maggie. "You mean more to me than you could ever imagine. I owe you my love and my job, two things I never knew I wanted. I owe you Bucky's happiness too. However much I mean to you, know that you mean more to both Bucky and I. Besides, who could ever forget Dr Maravilla? I hear Cambridge kids riot on the date of your departure every year."

"They do. If it becomes a tradition, I might just have to move us all to England after the war."

Becky smiled. "Sounds like a plan, Maggie. You better come home -- and bring my brother back with you."

///////////////

By February 1945, they had taken out almost all Hydra's bases across Europe. Maggie had even managed to get noticed by a Cambridge student she had taught in their first year, which sparked chaos as several people clambered to watch Dr Maravilla sneak out of a hospital with two bags' worth of medical supplies.

Maggie stood at the edge of the cliff, her boots half hidden by the snow. "Be careful, boys," she told the Commandos, "you fall down there, I don't think there's much even I can do."

Dernier laughed. "No falling then, Doc."

"Stay here and stay alive, Doc," Jones said, "we need you if we're going to eventually go after Schmidt."

"Oh, I'll live out of sheer spite. I intend to punch that devil in the face."

Bucky grinned. "Beck'll hold him down, you beat him with your bag. I suppose I'll try to pull you off him before you both get hurt."

Maggie smiled. "Like old times, huh?"

"We were right," Jones said, turning away from a radio box where Doug continued listening in, "Dr. Zola’s on the train. Hydra dispatcher gave him permission to open up the throttle. Wherever he’s going, they must need him bad."

"Let’s get going," Falsworth added, "because they’re moving like the devil."

"We only got about a ten-second window," Steve told Bucky and Olivier, "you miss that window, we’re bugs on a windshield."

"Mind the gap," Falsworth joked as Steve hooked onto the rope and got ready. Maggie helped attach Olivier's to the bag and warned him to stay safe.

Dugan glanced down as they heard the train approach. "Better get moving, bugs!

"Maintenant!" Dernier shouted, as Maggie gave Bucky a kiss.

Maggie bit her lip and on a whim, snatched up the extra handles and attaching them to the rope.

"Doc! Enculer!"

Morita looked up at Dernier's shout. "Where's Doc?"

Dugan counted to five under his breath to keep his cool. "She went after them."

"Maggie, c'est quoi ce bordel?!" Olivier shouted.

"Yeah, what the fuck?!" Bucky added.

"What they said!!" Steve yelled.

"GET IN THE TRAIN!" Maggie screeched

Steve climbed down the ladder and slipped inside. Bucky helped Maggie in. He nodded to Olivier, who continued forward, before jumping down into the train further ahead.

"Mags, you were supposed to stay with the others," Bucky said.

"I had a bad feeling."

Bucky sighed. There was nothing he could do now. He grabbed her hand and slammed a gun into it. "I hope Becks actually taught you to use this."

"She did," Maggie said with a convincing nod as she gripped the weapon tight with both hands.

"Stay close to Steve," Bucky said, nodding to Steve and glancing down at the shield. Steve understood immediately.

Knowing she'd already pissed him off by following them, Maggie did as Bucky said and stuck close to Steve.

The train was eerily quiet. Steve crossed the threshold to the next car on the train. Maggie followed close behind. Before Bucky could, the doors closed.

"Bucky!" Maggie rammed the butt of her gun into the window, but she barely cracked it.

"Mags, get down!"

Maggie ducked behind crates as something fired a blue blast at Steve. She peered around to see a machine in the shape of a man with two blasters for arms.

"If I draw fire, can you take it out?"

Steve glanced at the door. Concluding that what Bucky didn't know wouldn't hurt him, Steve nodded.

"Ready?"

Steve nodded and gripped the shield tight. Maggie stood up and fired at the robot. It did not turn its blasters to her and when Steve stood up, it fired at the shield.

"Qué carajo. . ." she whispered, shrieking when the shield bounced back and almost knocked her on the head. She just managed to dodge and watch the shield lodge itself in the metal behind her. She quickly realised that the machine was targeting Steve.

"Draw fire and don't die," she called, turning to pull the shield out. "Duck!"

Steve ducked as the shield sailed over his head, knocking the robot down. He glanced back at Maggie, who was prying the door open. "How. . .?"

"I did a lot of exercise when we were captured," she explained, "go get your shield, Captain."

Maggie and Steve stood on either side of the door. Glancing through the window, Maggie checked how many bullets her gun still had. She nodded to Steve. He knocked the button behind him and the door slid open.

Maggie tossed the gun to Bucky and raised her eyebrows. He gave her a single nod. Small as she was, Maggie was strong. She rushed into the car and pushed the crate as hard as she could. It knocked one soldier down and out. The other stepped to the side to avoid it and stepped right into Bucky's line of fire.

"You make a great team," Steve said as he entered as well.

Bucky lifted his forehead from Maggie's. "We had Hodge to practice on," Maggie joked.

Steve grinned. The sound of whirring machines caught his attention. "Get down!"

The blast hit the shield and threw Steve into the wall of the train, tearing a hole on the other side. Maggie shook Steve's shoulder. "Steve?"

He grunted slightly. Maggie looked up to see Bucky pick up the shield and fire at the robot. It fired a second blast, knocking the shield from Bucky's hand.

"Bucky!"

Steve groaned and pushed himself off the floor. He caught sight of the robot preparing for another blast. He picked up the shield and threw it with all his might, dropping the robot where it stood.

"Bucky, grab my hand! I can pull you back! Bucky, agrader! Please!"

Steve glanced at the hole in the wall. "Maggie!" He lunged for her and missed as she went down with Bucky.

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WiW masterpost

#women in war #marvel #au #40s #kenny-writes

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