Erinallene - 1982 Baby

Did it Ever Really Matter? (3/?)

Pairings: collegehockeyplayer!Ari Levinson x female reader (Levs x itty bitty)

Warnings: ANGST- so much angst (I’m sorry!), explicit language, mean girls, feelings of low self esteem, broken heart, mention of physical violence (female against male), Cappy being an ass, flashback scenes (must be 18+)

Word Count: 2.6K

A/N: angst was not my intent for these two- well not this much angst. I’m sorry!

This is not beta read. All mistakes are my own.

Levs x itty bitty: hockey AU

Lucky Charms: hockey AU

"Yeah, I kinda just snapped" you grimaced before taking the to-go cup from the barista and nodding a thank you, "I just..." you blew out a heavy exhale.

"Well you are my new favorite person and I'm just sorry I missed it" bug beamed from ear-to-ear, "it's about time somebody gave that doofus a black eye," she almost looked giddy as she accepted her drink before stepping away from the coffee cart in the direction of the arena.

"I've never punched anyone before... well... other than Levs and it was always playful and he's a brick house" you smiled, gaze dropping to the ground as you felt your cheeks heat.

"Um... right?" Bug giggled, I thought Barnesy was a beefcake... but Levs? Holy hell. What's that like?" She raised her eyebrow suggestively.

"I wouldn't know" you sighed, shoulders slumping a little as you took a sip of the coffee bug offered to buy you after finding out about your tipsy tussle with the hockey captain.

"What?" bug stopped dead in her tracks as she arm barred you, "I thought you and Ari were... dating?"

"No" you felt a lump building in your throat, "we... I don't really know what we are... we've been friends forever and we made this stupid deal to take it a step further... to... you know... when he scores on the ice. But he hasn't since... and Cappy thinks it's my fault."

"What?" bug made a face, "oh, that fucking meatball..." she grumbled to herself, shaking her head.

"Ari's just so superstitious and I..." your voice cracked with emotion.

"Hey... no... y/n... stop!" bug said, pulling you in for an awkward side hug, "I know we haven't known each other long, but even I can tell how head-over-heels that slab of beef is for you. And he actually seems like one of the good ones."

"I guess" you sniffled as you continued on towards the arena.

"Oh... before I forget" bug reached into her bag, pulling out a folded up t-shirt, "it's to promote the adoption drive and the calendar... it has Lev's number on the back… he already paid for it… he wants you wearing his number, that’s gotta say something…” she wagged her eyebrows at you and you took it, rolling your eyes with a warm laugh.

“So… you wearing Cappy’s?” you asked bug.

“Not exactly” she smirked, holding open her coat to reveal the “Team Cappy Team Literally Anyone Else” shirt she was wearing.

“Oh my god” you snorted, shaking your coffee a little too hard as it spilled over the rim, “that’s amazing! Did you have that made?” you asked, sipping the spilled coffee off the lid.

“No” bug tried biting back her smile, “Crappy had it made for me.”

“You like him” you smiled softly at your new friend.

“I’m really trying not to…” bug frowned, apologetically.

“Don’t” you reassured her, “he’s actually a good guy… or he used to be at least.”

“I don’t know” bug shook her head, taking another sip of her coffee.

“I think you’re good for him” you offered, “maybe he’ll stop being such an ass with you…”

“Well if he’s an ass again you have my full support in giving him another black eye” bug giggled as she nudged you with her shoulder.

"Thanks” you smirked with a playful eye roll, “when is the calendar shoot, anyway?" you asked nodding to the adoption drive t-shirt in your hand.

"Next week" bug sighed, "and everything has to go just right... we won't have enough time to redo any shots before the photos have to go to the printer..."

"I'm sure it will be fine" you smiled, "do you need any help?"

"Thank you" bug smiled at you, "I think we’re OK... clover will be there and the photographer has 2 assistants that are amazing... Cappy said he would be on his best behavior and the rest of the guys are being surprisingly cooperative."

"Even Shea and Storm?" you couldn't believe it.

"Even Shea and Storm" bug smirked.

"How?" you wanted to know what sorcery bug held over these guys.

"Told them they'd get to see boobs" bug laughed.

"You're showing them your boobs?" you snorted with laughter.

"Hell no!" bug laughed, "I'm going to have Cappy do it... he's got a good set of man boobs..."

You shook your head laughing as you pushed the door to the arena open.

"I gotta go find Levs" you told bug, "save me a seat?"

"Sure" bug smiled, waving as she turned in the direction of the stands.

"Hey, bit" Levs called out as he hockey stopped in front of the boards, taking his helmet off and ducking to press a soft kiss to your forehead.

"How's your hand, slugger?" he teased. You brought your hand up with a cringe, the small knuckles littered with bruises from last night.

"I... I'm sorry" you couldn't meet his gaze, totally mortified, "he just... god... he's such a fucking asshole, ya know?"

"Trust me... I know" Ari's exhale was heavy as he gently took your hand, bringing it to his mouth and ghosting his lips over the knuckles with soft kisses.

"How ya feeling?" you asked, changing the subject as you tugged your hand away, still embarrassed at last night’s outburst as a kaleidoscope of butterflies bloomed in your belly.

Another 3 games had passed leaving Ari scoreless and cranky.

"Good... I think" he shrugged just as a puck banked off the boards and slide in his direction. Levs turned and lobbed the puck back towards the net- missing by several inches.

"He was making 'em before you showed up" number seven said, sporting a dark shiner.

"Fuck off, Crappy" you grumbled.

"Yeah... whatcha gonna do? Give me another black eye?" Cappy snorted.

“You see bug’s shirt yet?” you goaded.

Steve narrowed his eyes at you before he turned in the direction of student seating- scanning the stands for bug.

"Enough, Cap" Ari warned as Cappy shook his head, skating away.

"Don't let him get to you" Ari said, turning back to you with a smile. But you’ve known Levs long enough to know that the smile was forced. Ari was in his head and Crappy was making it worse.

"But what if he's right?" your voice cracked with emotion.

Levs shook his head, putting his helmet back on and skating towards the goal. He whistled to Barnesy, signaling for a puck and Bucky shot one to him.

Levs turned back, making sure you were watching as he angled his stick back, a slap shot cracking over the ice when the puck sailed towards the empty warm up net. The puck pinged off the post and missed.

Your eyes prickled as you watched Ari miss two more times. Blinking back the tears you left without saying goodbye- trying to make your way to the bathroom before you burst out in tears.

You stood sniffling in a stall when you heard them. Straining to listen as your heart hammered in your chest.

"I knew it... the entire time" Kimmy insisted. You could see her through the crack in the stall, she was leaning into the mirror while putting on lipgloss.

"You think they were fucking the whole time?" another girl asked.

"Oh, I know they were" Kimmy scoffed.

Wrong.

"What a slut" her friend said, "she probably fucks the whole team..."

Wrong. They were all wrong. You hadn't slept with anyone on the team. Not even Ari.

"Well... take him back" another friend said, "he wasn't hers to begin with... and besides you're hotter."

A fresh wave of tears spilled as the mean girls cackled, leaving the bathroom and no doubt going to find Ari.

You pulled another handful of tissue from the toilet paper roll, feeling sick to your stomach and utterly sorry for yourself. You should just leave. How stupid could you be... if Levs hadn't scored yet did he actually really want to?

And what had Crappy say last night?

"You took one of the top scorers on the team and nutured him. Give him his balls back, tt!"

That's when you punched the smirk right off his stupid face.

What did Steve Rogers know? You mattered. Levs told you so himself.

After taking a few more minutes to compose yourself, you sucked it up and made you way back towards the ice- knowing that Ari would want your usual send off for good luck.

You stopped dead in your tracks when you saw him skating around carefree on the ice as Kimmy and her friends cheered him on. Ari came to a stop in front of Kimmy as she reached out grabby hands and he dropped a puck to her.

You rolled your eyes when she kissed it for good luck and tossed it back on the ice. Your chest tightened as you watched Ari reach out with his stick and take the puck.

You silently chastised yourself for hoping he'd miss as he lined the shot up, his stick cracking over the puck as it zipped across the ice- practically burning a hole through the net.

"Gooooooooaaaaaaaaaal" Cappy cheered obnoxiously as Kimmy and her friends bounced and clapped. Steve hooked the puck from the net and shot it back to Ari, he moved to shoot it again before Kimmy said something. Ari hesitated for a moment before picking it back up and handing it to her.

You couldn't hear what Kimmy was saying but saw the way her friends giggled as Ari leaned in, Kimmy holding the puck up to his lips before pulling it away and pressing a kiss to his mouth at the last second.

Your heart sank, the instant bitter taste of bile rising up your throat as you blinked back a fresh wave of tears.

Ari pulled away instantly, frowning at Kimmy as he spoke until his gaze caught yours standing about 6 feet behind them.

The shirt with Ari's number for the adoption drive fell from your hand as tears streamed freely down your face. Shaking your head at him, it was as if you were having a silent conversation, Ari's expression looked pained- his eyes pleading as you shook your head, turning on your heels and walking away.

"Bit... don't" you heard him call as you weaved through the packed arena, fans filling the stands for the game.

The lump in your throat burned as you wiped your tears with the sleeve of Ari's oversized hoodie, hurrying towards the front door as you tried like hell to hold it together.

"Bit....stop!" you heard Ari's voice boom down the long hallway, pausing only briefly you saw the giant, lumbering after you, still on his skates, as the crowd of people parted like the Red Sea for him.

You chirped, turning back around and pushing your way through the swarm of fans with more urgency. You couldn't do this anymore. Not while your heart was breaking.

"Bit.... Fuck! Y/N... stop... please" his voice was fading into the noise of the arena the more distance you put between you.

No doubt Ari was getting swarmed by now. Always a fan favorite and for once it was working in your favor.

You made it to the door, gripping the handle and letting out a trembling breath you didn't even realize you were holding. Your lungs burned, chest ached and you knew you shouldn't but you turned back for one last look.

You couldn't help smiling as the sob choked up your throat. Ari, surrounded by a sea of his young fans. A gentle giant, still trying to push through the throng of people as he looked up, locking eyes with you where you stood, hesitating at the entrance.

"Please" he mouthed, still about 20 feet away from you, even from this distance you could tell his eyes were watery and it made you want to run to him. Want to make it all better.

"I'm sorry" you murmured, pushing the door open and slipping though without looking back. The door slammed shut behind you with a finality you weren't ready for, but even then, you wouldn't let yourself turn back.

You walked across campus, trying to steady your breathing, at least until you made it to your car- parked in the big lot across campus.

You half expected him to come chasing after you. If you were being honest- you wanted him to chase after you. But it was time. This will-they, won't-they over the past 2 years was slowly eating you alive. It wasn't good for either of you.

You had been right there all along and he never made it happen. He never sealed the deal. And you had tried. You told him what you wanted the end of your sophomore year.

He had said it mattered. It was supposed to matter.

A sob bubbled up your throat, painful and hot as tears blurred your vision. You were about 10 minutes from your car. Damn this large campus.

When Ari left for summer break you lasted a week. One agonizing week without him. You decided you were going to go- surprise him in Canada. He had always said he wanted to take you- wanted you to meet his Mom and the small town he grew up in. He wanted to show you the lake where he learned how to skate and where his junior team won their first championship.

But the night before you were set to leave, you saw it. A seven second video, playing on a loop. You probably watched it 20 times.

Ari with his on-again-off-again high school sweetheart- kissing outside a bar.

She posted it. Levs didn't even have a social media. You were sure he didn't even know about it. But that's what made it so damning. That and the fact that he was wearing a tournament tshirt Coach V had made only a few weeks back.

Oh, how you wanted to convince yourself it was an old video.

You leaned against you car, sighing with a heavy kind of temporary relief. You were glad to be back at your car- but not sure what the hell you were going to do now. You couldn't be here.

Gripping the handle and yanking the door open you sat in your car, holding the steering wheel as you finally let yourself feel. The tears were coming fast as you sobbed, sobbed so hard it made your chest ache and your head throb.

You cried for all the time you spent pining for him. For all the hopeful moments spent in his arms thinking someday. Someday this would happen for you. Someday you would matter enough. But it didn't. You didn't.

And now that you saw it from the other side you still couldn't understand why that someday never came.

When Ari came back after that summer, you acted like nothing happened. You didn't tell him that you saw the kiss. You just dove into your school work, dated a handful of other guys unsuccessfully and continued to be Ari's good friend. His itty bitty. Hoping that one day he would figure it out. That he would truly see that it did matter.

You stayed in your car the duration of the game- only realizing it when you saw people start to funnel out in the direction of the arena. The crowd looked happy which meant the boys won. You hoped Ari scored. But not for you this time. For him.

You took a deep clarifying breath, easing the car out of the parking lot and turning away from campus. You knew what you needed to do and for once, it didn't involve Ari.

Turns out, even after all this time, it didn't actually matter after all.

Check out bug’s Team Literally Anyone Else t-shirt made by the lovely and talented @justalonelyslytherin ❤️

The hockey dividers were made by the lovely and talented @firefly-graphics ❤️

As always, thank you for all the love and support. Please check out my archive blog where I only post new fics @drabblewithfrannybarnesfics ❤️

What were you thinking?

SEBASTIAN STAN For Entertainment Weekly By Miller Mobley

'til the morning comes (6/?)

steve rogers x reader (fluff and angst)

summary: you need to get some air, and see some friends.

word count: 2.3k

warnings: mentions of the death of a father, super vague mentions of MCU-typical violence/terrorism

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5) (part 7) (series masterlist)

 “Trouble in paradise?” Helen peers above her sunglasses, frowning.

 “What?” As if you hadn’t spent ten minutes inside the hotel bathroom washing your face with cold water, minimizing its puffiness. “No.”

 “I just thought your hot-shit husband would be the one driving you around,” she explains while you buckle your seatbelt. “He seemed really excited to pick you up last night.”

 Back then, you had expected a text to light up your phone at eleven o’clock, followed by excusing yourself from the bar. But Steve actually found you and walked to the rental car. He greeted your friends charmingly, shaking hands and joking about the late hour, but mostly he ushered you out the door to kiss you again. And again and again—

 “We’re not married,” you mutter.

 “Like, really excited.” She elbows your ribs. "Did you have sex?"

 You roll your eyes. “Can I not just wanna see my best friend?”

 Helen removes her sunglasses in time for you to spot her side-eye. “Not when she’s hungover, and late to work.” She exits the roundabout driveway and starts toward the Fairmont. “Honestly, a school night. You’ve changed.”

 At least these drinks celebrated an accomplishment. Once, you went with Joaquín because a student vomited on your favorite patterned dress and her mom had shamed you for failing to nurse her precious daughter back to health. Still, Helen’s chastisement—no matter how lighthearted—makes you squirm. “I missed you,” you tell her, “Doesn’t that count for something?”

 She checks her mirrors. “How was your art thing?”

 You haven’t given her an update yet. Your friend group had agreed to a No Work Talk policy on nights out. Though, the art festival never felt like work—so unlike the long days you spent prancing around Steve’s office, providing help where it probably wasn’t strictly needed. The event meant something to you. And to Steve, who apparently hid his creative talents from you.

 Paling in comparison to what you hid from him.

 “It was fun,” you say honestly. “It was… everything.”

 Helen gives you a sidelong look. “You don’t sound enthused.”

 You cross your arms. The festival should spark a dozen happy memories: a triumphant return to the elementary school you loved, to doing what you do best. Plus, a definite win for the campaign, the entire night brimming with your favorite people.

 Maybe twenty year’s time will allow you to forget all the bad that happened after. “I wish I could stay longer.”

 “Shut up,” Helen laughs. “I’ve never seen you so happy.”

 Your face warms, because No Work Talk inevitably meant Steve Talk. Your futile attempts to discuss Joaquín’s abrupt switch to kindergarten or Helen’s new roommate or Dane and Sersi’s next vacation all failed to overshadow the rapid questions regarding your fiancé.

 You answered them like a lovesick schoolgirl, the corners of your lips lifting as you pictured him, especially his slightly mussed hair when you reluctantly left the heat of your first real kiss.

 Now, thoughts of Steve turn sour. Nails scraped across his scalp out of frustration rather than passion. His height towering over you. The room filled with his anger, floor to ceiling.

 He made you feel small. Maybe you are, or maybe you should be.

 “It was fun while it lasted.”

 Helen interprets your shift in tone as your mind shifting to Shangqi, and the spirit inside her car lessens. Jerking a thumb toward the backseat, she explains, “I have two things of pajeon. One for him, one for Xialing.”

 You squint at the truly giant containers, crammed with steamed-up food and strapped into each seat. “You cooked?”

 Helen huffs, pulling into the Fairmont’s driveway. “Well, I bought it and then lovingly transferred it to a different container, creating the illusion that I can cook.”

 Apparently, no amount of misery can ever overpower Helen making you laugh. “You’re ridiculous.” You gently dismiss the valet driver as you unbuckle the comfort food.

 Helen doesn’t return your smile, mocking seriousness. “You realize how much takeout I eat now that you’re gone?”

 “Thanks for the ride.” You haphazardly balance the Tupperware against your torso while shutting the door. “Y'know, I can send you my recipes.”

 “Too much work.”

 “For one of the smartest people I know, you’re awful at following directions.”

 “Hey.” Helen stretches across the console. “Double checking. You sure you’re okay?”

 She needs to get to her lab. “Yeah,” you lie. “Love you.”

 “Love you.”

 You weave effortlessly through the bustle inside the Fairmont. Enough red-vested employees give you vague nods of recognition that you sneak inside the staff break room without arousing too much suspicion. There, you find Shangqi poking a vending machine, his crisp white sleeves folded to his elbows.

 “Hi,” you whisper. Then, you realize the room is empty.

 He tilts his head affectionately, flipping his soda can. “Hey, Mrs. President.”

 You wrinkle your nose, bashful at the stupid nickname. “Um…” You shove the pajeon toward him. “Helen sends her love to you and Xialing.”

 Shangqi hums. Then, he lifts the plastic from your hands, stifling any of your weak objections with a tight embrace. You shove your nose into the scratchy material of his uniform, which smells like the inside of a new car mixed with crisp laundry detergent. Reminiscent of home—or what home used to be. You mold yourself to his solid, secure body.

 You’re already sniffling. “Why didn’t you take the day off?”

 He sits at a small round table, cracking open his soda and poking the giant mass of food now in his possession. “Already, with the patronizing.”

 You fold your arms. “Sorry. I know.”

 “Maybe parking cars helps me process my emotions," he chuckles, while motioning you to grab a chair. “The lack of tips is a metaphor for my grief.”

 You place a hand over his, letting one finger trace the bumps along his scarred knuckles. “Shangqi,” you start again, “I’m really sorry.”

 He drinks his soda, his mouth forming a thin line. “It was unexpected but… bound to happen.”

 Thankfully, no foul play. His father passed in his sleep, an oddly peaceful death for such a violent person.

 Although, that side of Wenwu never revealed itself to you. Shangqi and Xialing openly disdained him, and although their tension thickened the air of his cold home, you mostly remembered an old, kind man who made you tea and inquired about your career.

 A nice girl, Shangqi relayed to you later, lightly mimicking his father’s accent.

 The nicest, you replied smugly.

 “Is there anything I can do to help?” You feel stupid asking the question, especially with the hours counting down before your flight back to New York.

 His smile returns, barely detectable, and he interlocks your fingers briefly. “I’m glad you’re here.”

 “Bothering you during your lunch break?” you tease, but your grimace keeps the mood dampened.

 He smacks the plastic lid. “I get to eat scallion pancakes for the next two weeks, thanks to you.”

 “Are you sure you’re okay?” Asking a second time usually earns you a real answer.

 Shangqi softens at your concern. “I don’t know. It’s my dad.”

 “He was intense,” you agree.

 “Not exactly the most healthy relationship I’ve ever had.”

 You bite the inside of your lip. The crack in his voice transports you back to the nights you spent at his place, the rare ones when he opened up about Wenwu. Even underneath the cover of darkness, you struggled to look Shangqi in the eye as he talked through the trauma of living under the Ten Rings’ oppressive shadow. A past he rejected without hesitation, favoring a cramped studio apartment and a low-paying job heavy with entitled customers. Something simple and uncomplicated, far from family.

 Still, you listened, both to his stories and to his heart beating steadily against your cheek, pretending—mostly for your own sanity—that throwing a leg over him and tracing patterns on his chest could protect him from the worst of it, and lull him into a sleep where thunderous nightmares wouldn't jerk him awake.

 “You’re the only one of my girlfriends to meet him.” He clears his throat, eyes going glassy at the realization. “Actually, you’ll be the only one to ever meet him.”

 “Well, I’m lucky then.”

 “You don’t have to lie,” he says bitterly. “He did some terrible things.”

 Six months into your relationship, you accepted Shangqi’s first—and extremely hesitant—dinner invitation to meet his father.

 You owed him. While your personal challenges could never eclipse his, he supported you, through frazzled weekend lesson-planning and long nights. Shangqi drove you to half a dozen art stores to find the best deal, kissed your shoulder when you cried, offered to beat up your administration when you texted him about losing your job.

 No, you didn’t owe him; it wasn’t an obligation. Rather, a privilege. To have a little bit of his pain be yours.

 “That doesn’t change the fact that he’s your father, and a part of who you are.” You nod decisively. “I got to be a part of that.”

 He sighs, a brief and shaky thing. “Thanks.”

 “But I…” You wipe away a tear. “I can’t go to the funeral.”

 “That’s alright. You’re busy.”

 The quickness of that response makes you wince. “I’m sorry, I tried, but I’m not—”

 “Hey." Shangqi takes your hand again. “S’okay.”

 “I should have answered my phone last night,” you choke out.

 “I didn’t even think you were in the city.” He shrugs. “Honestly, I kinda expected you to be asleep on the east coast.”

 You scoff. You would have preferred that. Instead, guilt calcifies inside your stomach.

 Mere months ago, you wouldn’t have so idly dismissed his name flashing on your screen. He seldom called you—never twice in a row. But you were too distracted by your friends, the drinks you shared with them, the prospect of spending the rest of that night with Steve. While you and Shanqi ended on good terms and you’d never purposely ignore him, maybe deep down you rebuffed even the possibility of something sidetracking your perfect night.

 Fucking selfish.

 “I just wanted to hear your voice,” he confesses. “I didn’t expect any more from you.”

 You shake your head, refusing his conjured-up excuses for your behavior. “I should have called back. I would’ve wanted to be there for you.”

 “You’re here now,” he urges. “Even if you are taking up my lunch break.”

 With a cheeky wink, Shangqi grabs a plate and two forks from the miniature kitchen counter. He cracks open the top container, carefully transferring a pancake and cutting it in half.

 The moment strikes you as alarmingly familiar: yet another one of the hundred meals you’ve shared, yet another time you’ve arrived with food to break up the monotony of his day. In fact, you could both name the exact Korean place where Helen got these pancakes. And if you thought about it, you could probably recite Shangqi’s regular order back to him.

 Earlier today, as you pushed through the hotel doors, the muffled yet cheery beat of Helen’s favorite pop music reached your ears, immediately relieving the burns in your heart after leaving your fiancé speechless on the hotel room floor.

 You suck in a deep breath. It’s been so long since you’ve felt at ease, among friends, your love mutual and long-lasting.

 It’ll never be this way with Steve. The realization crushes you a little.

 “I have to ask about your new guy,” Shangqi remark, offering you a sip of his drink.

 “No, you really don’t,” you mumble.

 “That happened quickly.”

 “Only because—” He wouldn’t believe the truth, if you could tell him. And if he did believe you, he’d pity you. “We should talk about you and your dad.”

 “C’mon.” He leans backward, satisfied with how flustered you seem. “Take my mind off things. Are you with him ‘cause of his money and looks? Be honest.”

 “No, Steve, he’s…”

 “He’s rich and attractive,” Shangqi supplies.

 “He’s… good to me.”

 Most of the time.

 “A very glowing review,” he says, every word drawn out in suspicion. “Not surprised though, I’d trust a politician as far as I can throw him.”

 You laugh. Steve is kinda strong, but Shangqi has mastered, like, every martial art under the sun. It wouldn’t even be a fair match. “You could throw him pretty far, I think.”

 “Not far enough.”

 You can’t finish your food with the funny feeling sloshing inside your gut. “He’s different, sometimes.”

 “Sometimes,” Shangqi repeats sadly. There’s the pity.

 “He won’t let me go to the funeral.”

 “Won’t let you?” Shangqi leans forward, his strong forearms bracing the table, the pale scars on his knuckles flexing.

 You hate this subtle macho display just like you hated Steve’s yelling. It’s not cute, this overprotectiveness, and you wish they would think to comfort you instead. “Most people don’t know, right?” you ask, deflecting. “That your dad was behind all that stuff. They've just heard of the Mandarin.”

 After a pause, he nods gravely, sitting back in his chair. “When it comes to Wenwu, most people just see a very rich and powerful man, with two kids who hated him.” His jaw ticks. “But most people doesn’t mean all people.”

 You wring your hands. “You’re right.”

 “I think your senator made the right call.” You catch the derogatory tone on Steve’s title, yet he doesn’t apply it to yours: “Future First Ladies of the United States shouldn’t be seen at a crime lord’s funeral, no matter how innocent it may seem.”

 You push your half-eaten pajeon toward him. “Yeah.”

 “I’m not voting for him though. Seems like an asshole.”

 A laugh, a real one. “That’s okay.”

 Win or lose, you don’t care. You just wanna get through this, whatever it takes.

 “Is this what you want, with him?”

 You blink. “Is it okay to say that I don’t know?”

 “You don’t have to ask if it’s okay.” Shangqi considers you for a long moment before picking at your food. “Whatever happens, you can always come home.”

— — —

masterlist

My Protector

✧ summary: After Goose's death, Maverick was sworn to protect three people. Carole, Bradley, and you. A woman who Maverick had always thought fondly of, a woman who stole his heart.

✧ a/n: oops i did it. so this is def based on the first Top Gun, so if you've never seen it – i guess spoiler alert? idk, but brb crying in the club with my aviators on 🥺

✧ pairing: Pete "Maverick" Mitchell x Bradshaw!Female!Reader

✧ warnings: character death, mentions of death, angst

Your eyes welled with tears as you sat there with Carole and Bradley. Your nephew was in your arms, he had no earthly idea what was going on. All he could see was his mother and aunt crying continuously. Pete was stowed away, gently boxing up Goose’s things, knowing that there were two women and a little boy waiting in the other room. 

Maverick blamed himself. He couldn’t stand to look at himself in the mirror. He didn’t care who said that this incident wans’t his fault, that it was an accident no one saw coming – Mav knew. He inhaled sharply as he folded up Goose’s aviators and clutched his dog tags in his hand, a keepsake he’d hold onto for a little while longer. 

You and Nick had a strong relationship. He was your older brother and you adored him, you looked up to him. You thought he was the bravest soul to go out there and do the things he did, to become this Naval Aviator… It took guts and glory. And when he was being sent to Top Gun, you expressed how proud you were of him. But when you received the call that an accident occurred, your stomach dropped. You had just came along with Carole and Bradley to visit your brother, only for a short amount of time to pass before he was killed. 

You heard as the door opened and your eyes glanced up to see Pete. His face was stone cold and you knew he was trying his hardest to suppress his emotions. 

Carole covered her mouth as she saw him emerge. “God, he loved flying with you, Maverick,” She whispered, her voice cracking. She was still in utter disbelief that her husband, her best friend, and the father of her son were gone. 

You stood to your feet and wiped your eyes with a soft smile. “He would have flown anyway… Without you,” You admitted. Maverick looked over at you with a broken stare. 

“He’d have hated it, but he would have done it,” Carole added as Maverick carefully handed her the box full of Goose’s things. Carole grabbed them and got Bradley’s hand, knowing the two of you needed a moment alone together. As the door to the room closed, you felt your eyes water even more with tears. 

“I just can’t believe he’s gone, Mav,” You exhaled. Maverick felt his throat tighten as a hard lump formed that he tried to swallow. 

“It’s all my fault,” He whispered. 

Your eyes snapped up. Walking forward, you reached up and rested your hands on his cheeks. “Maverick, this was not your fault,” You told him sincerely. “Accidents happen.”

But deep down, Maverick knew. He knew that his feud with Ice is what caused this. Both of them were on the hunt of being the best pilot. Cockiness got the better of Maverick and for that, he paid the price with his best friend’s life. He snatched him away from his wife, his son, and his sister. A sister who Maverick turned his eyes to stare at you, remembering oh so fondly the decree Goose made Maverick take. 

“If anything happens to me while we’re out here, you take care of three people dearest to me. Carole, Bradley, and Y/N. Especially Y/N. That girl needs you more than ever, Maverick. And I’m not just saying that because I saw her doodle hearts around your name one time.” Goose laughed as he and Maverick sat at the piano together after their rendition of Great Balls of Fire. 

“I’ll protect them all with my life, buddy,” Maverick promised him as he clapped him on the back. 

As he was brought back to the present, he stared at you with a sad expression. “I’m so sorry, Y/N,” He whispered. “I’m so sorry,” 

You saw his green eyes give away and the tears began to spill. Without hesitation, you wrapped your arms tightly around him and pressed your hand to the back of his head. Together, the two of you stood there, sharing the river of tears as you mourned the biggest loss you’d ever faced. 

Maverick’s arms wrapped around your waist and he buried his face into the crook of your neck. He broke with sniffles, soon pulling himself together. 

He had to be strong for you. He couldn’t break anymore. He leaned forward and kissed your forehead, his eyes closing tightly. 

“I’m going to protect you, Y/N… Goose made me promise.” He muttered. 

Your heart faltered. “What?” You asked.

Maverick cleared his throat. “Before we ever went to Top Gun… Goose made me promise that if anything ever happened to him – I’d look out for Carole and Bradley, but especially you,” He whispered. “And it’s a promise I’ll hold forever.” 

You blinked, nodding your head. Another soft kiss was pressed to your forehead and the tears spilled even more. 

Maverick would protect you with his life.

play pretend

18+

in order to appease his uncle, bucky needs to prove that he's a family man. what better way to get that image across than with a loving wife? there's only one problem: bucky doesn't have a wife. he does, however, have a little fairy.

content warning: mob!bucky x best friend!reader, fake relationship, idiots in love, friends to lovers, fluff, mutual pining, kissing, angst, mention of sex, dirty talk (degradation kink, dom/sub dynamic).

mob!bucky masterlist

The second you get to your apartment door, you know something's wrong. You feel it in the air. You may be tipsy from the drinks you got with your colleagues after work, and the late hour may be making you paranoid, but if being best friends with a criminal has taught you anything, it's to trust your instincts. When you hear a quiet thud from inside, your eyes widen. Fuck.

You put your key in the door while dialing Bucky's number, before reaching into your purse and taking out the pepper spray. It isn't a gun, but you can't exactly take a weapon into your office every day.

"Hey, fairy," Bucky's calming voice rings through your phone, giving you some relief.

"James," You whisper curtly while slowly turning the key. "There's someone in my apartment. I'm gonna kill him, but I just wanted to let you know, first."

All he does is chuckle while you open the door as quietly as possible, his tone oddly light for someone who claims to be so protective of you. "Go get him, tiger. Show him who's boss."

Did he just hang up?

You frown at his lack of concern, but peg it on him not believing you. Bastard. He'll learn to take you seriously when it's he who has to clean up the blood. Entering your apartment, you drop your bag and hold up the pepper spray. "Whoever you are, show yourself!" You call out, flicking on the light and looking around. "I've been taught how to kill a man with nothing but my bare hands!"

"If you wanted to use your hands on me, baby, you should've just asked." The smooth voice makes you scream in shock, your eyes and mouth wide as you see Bucky sitting in your armchair.

"What the fuck?" You yell, kicking the door shut behind you. "Don't scare me like that, you prick!"

"I'm sorry, fairy, it's just too easy," He laughs, standing up and striding over to you before pulling you in for a tight hug. When he pulls away, he cups your cheek, scanning your face and frowning when he smells the vodka on you. "Why you home so late, huh? Haven't I told you to call me when you come home late? Especially when you've been drinking."

"It's fine; Mr. Stark walked me home from the bar," You tell him casually while taking off your coat.

"Tony?" Bucky repeats with narrow eyes. "Why the fuck were you at a bar with him?"

You grin. There's that protective instinct, back in full swing. "It was a work thing; Margo's last day, so we went for drinks," You explain. "Sorry I didn't tell you. I figured you'd be busy, seeing as it's a Friday night, and all."

"I don't care what day it is; you stay out past 9, you call me," He states firmly, wrapping his hand around the back of your neck. "How many times do I have to explain that to you?"

"Alright, alright, jeez," You whine, pulling his hand off of you and walking over to the kitchen area. "You hungry? I'm hungry. Hummus. I have hummus and pitta. Yum."

While you grab items from your fridge, including the tub of hummus and a carton of orange juice, Bucky takes a seat at the table. He watches you with a smirk as you flit around the kitchen, grabbing everything that looks good and putting it on the table in front of him. After toasting some pitta bread, you cut it into bite sized pieces and place it down too, before sitting next to him.

He wraps his hand around the leg of your chair and pulls you closer, parting his lips when you bring up a piece of pitta bread with a healthy dollop of hummus to his mouth.

"Here comes the airplane," You tease, your eyes filling with delight as he eats it. He bites on the tip of your finger, making you yelp and pull your hand back. "Bad boy! You have lost your pitta privileges."

Bucky pouts but says nothing, sitting back and letting you indulge in your feast. After a few moments, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a black, velvet box. "Fairy," He mumbles, patting your thigh. "Got something for you."

"What is it?" You ask with a mouthful of chocolate, raising your brows.

Instead of telling you, he shows you, flicking open the box to reveal the most beautiful ring. With a smile, he meets your eyes. "Marry me."

Your heart skips a beat but a split second later, you snort. "Get the fuck outta here, Jamie. What's that for?"

"You're gonna wear it over the weekend," He informs you. "I need you to pretend to be my wife until Sunday. Two days, that's it."

"What the fuck for?" You ask, utterly baffled. "You got a coupon for a honeymoon package, or something?"

"My uncle's coming to town," He says with a sigh.

"Uncle Jack?" You ask with wide eyes. "What does he have to do with anything?"

"Don't look so excited," He grumbles with an eye roll. "He's expecting to come home and be introduced to my family. I need you to do this for me."

After the death of Bucky's father, Jack took over the business. Then, once Bucky turned 18, Jack left the country, claiming Bucky was capable of running the business himself. You haven't seen Jack in a few years, but every time he visits, Bucky almost goes insane with stress. He feels pressured to impress his uncle; as though he has something to prove.

"The numbers don't meant a thing to him; he won't care how successful the business is," Bucky explains. "All he'll be criticizing me for is my lack of a family. And that's where you come in."

"Your wife?" You sputter with wide eyes. "You want me to pretend to be your wife?"

"Please," He implores, taking your hand in his. "With this ring, I thee wed - for the next 48 hours."

Your eyes narrow into a glare as you pull your hand back before he gets a chance to slip the ring on your finger. "What if I took you seriously before, Buck? What if I got my hopes high, thinking you were proposing for real?"

"Then I'd marry you for real," He says simply, shrugging nonchalantly. "Now, come on. Put the ring on, and then it's bed time. We have an early start tomorrow."

Rolling your eyes, you childishly stick your hand out. "At least get down on one knee." You know that whatever Bucky wants, he gets, and besides; it's only for the weekend. You'll survive being his fake wife for 48 hours.

Knowing he's got you on side, Bucky laughs before kneeling on the ground. He holds up the ring, an adorable look in his wide eyes. "Fairy, baby, you're the only woman I'd be happy to wake up to every day for the rest of my life. You make the best alfredo, and you're nice enough to feed me when my hands are roughed up. I don't know what I did to deserve a guardian angel, but God gave you to me anyway. Will you make me the happiest, luckiest son of a bitch alive and marry me for the weekend?"

"Oh, Jamie," You coo, smiling widely. "You're a fucking rat bastard, and you give me migraines, and you're the reason my social life is so abysmal. Of course I'll marry you for the weekend!"

He slips the ring on your finger with a grin before standing up and lifting you off the chair in a tight hug. You wrap your legs around his waist as he walks you to your bedroom, his lips pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. "You're the best, my little fairy."

"Yeah, yeah," You mumble, resting your head on his shoulder. "You owe me one."

"And then he asked me while we were in Venice; proposed on a gondola under the moonlight," You say with a dreamy smile. "We got married in Sicily a year later."

"Well, I'll be damned," Jack replies with a wide grin. "I was beginning to lose hope for you, James. Thought you'd never settle down."

Bucky pulls you closer onto his lap, looking up at you. "When you find a woman as incredible as Y/N, you want her to yourself."

"Took you long enough," Jack mutters. "How long have you two known each other, now?"

"It's coming up to ten years," You tell him warmly.

"Ten?" Bucky repeats with a mumble, frowning at you. "Guess we're gonna have to celebrate, baby, hmm?"

"Ah, young love," Jack sighs, sitting back in the armchair. "You're a lucky man, James."

"I know," He whispers, gently tilting your face towards him. "Give me a kiss, fairy."

Though you're surprised at his request, you can't help but give in. It won't be the first time you've kissed Bucky, but the fact that you're pretending to be a married couple adds a little pressure to this one. Admittedly, it's fun to kiss him, though you know it'll only hurt when you realise it's all for show. The kiss is soft and short, but still utterly magical.

"So, when can I expect some grandkids?"

You almost choke at Jack's query, immediately pulling away from Bucky. "Grandkids?"

"Don't scare her, Jack; we only just tied the knot," Bucky says calmly, patting your knee. "Let us experience marital bliss for a little while before we start having babies."

Having babies. Having babies? Babies?

You stare at Bucky. Oh, shit. This was a bad idea. Hiding your feelings from him is hard enough, but now he's planting the image of making a family with you in your head? It's like he wants to break your heart.

Jack shrugs with a smug smirk, "That's exactly what your father said to my parents. A year later, your ma had you. Life doesn't always go to plan, Buck."

No, it does not.

"Anyone need another drink?" You ask, standing up. "I know I do."

The sound of live music fills the bar, the smell of drinks and food in the air. Bucky's friends and family are celebrating Jack's return with a party, while you do your best to keep up appearances. Somehow, you got through the first day without a hitch, and you only have to pretend to be Bucky's wife until the end of tonight.

"As long as nobody notices the ring," Bucky mumbles into your ear. "They won't even realize the difference."

He hasn't told anyone else what you're up to, which you've told him is a bad idea. Bucky's sure that you'll be able to convince Jack you're married while everyone else remains clueless, but you aren't so confident.

You raise a brow, swaying in his arms as his chest presses against your back. "So, you think we act like a married couple anyway?"

He smirks while taking a sip of whiskey before resting the glass on your shoulder. "Well, we flirt, we dance, we love each other," He lists off smugly, placing his free hand on your waist. "The only thing that's missing is sex."

"Oh, you'd like that, wouldn't you?" You grumble bitterly.

"Very much so, fairy," Bucky teases before turning you around and pulling you closer.

"Jamie?" You begin, to which he nods. "Do you remember any of Tuesday night?"

Immediately, he chuckles. "Fuck's sake. Sam won't stop ripping into me for that; keeps making psychic jokes. Bastard."

"Do you remember when you came to see me?" You ask, feeling your heart thud.

A smirk grows on his lips. "I remember kissing you."

"That's it?" You prod, your cheeks heating up at the memory. "You don't remember when I took you home?"

He looks up, frowning. "Uh, I don't remember anything past the kiss. Why? Was I horrible to you?"

You put on a smile and you can't tell whether you're relieved that he's forgotten your admission, or disappointed. "You're never horrible to me, Jamie," You mumble, placing your hands on his shoulders as the two of you sway gently to the music.

His eyes narrow. "Are you sure? Now that I think about it, you seemed upset the next morning. You can tell me if I was a prick - did I hurt you?"

"Of course you didn't!" You exclaim, lightly hitting his arm for effect. "Don't be stupid."

"I must've done something. Isn't that why you brought it up?" He questions, a look of concern growing on his face. "Did I say something mean?"

"Like what?" You ask curiously. "What do you think you could've said that was mean?"

"Uh, I don't know," Bucky says with a shrug. "Did I try to kiss you again?"

"Actually, you didn't," You tell him with a hint of surprise.

"That doesn't sound like me," He mutters, glancing down at your lips. "Give me one now, to make up for it."

"We're only friends, though," You say, trying to sound nonchalant. "Aren't we?"

A look of mischief blooms in his eyes. "Not tonight."

"Right," You utter. "Tonight, I'm Mrs. Barnes."

"Doesn't that sound good?" He whispers, holding you closer.

You can't help but wince and stop dancing. "I can't do this anymore."

Confused, he takes your hand in his. "What are you talking about, fairy?"

With a racing heart and clammy palms, you take a deep breath and step back. "I- I think I need some space."

"Space?" He repeats, baffled. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

"I'm sorry," You whisper, shaking your head. "Just tell Uncle Jack I'm not feeling well. I'm going home."

You make it a few feet before you feel him grabbing your arm and pulling you back, a stern look on his face. "What's going on?" He asks you. "Talk to me, fairy."

Looking around the bar, you cringe when you spot a few people staring at you and Bucky. "Not here, Jamie."

"Bucky," Jack's voice suddenly booms as he appears at your side. "We have a problem."

Immediately, Bucky's face pales. "Fuck."

"What is it?" You ask, your concern overriding your heartbreak.

Cupping your cheeks, Bucky pulls you closer. "Nothing you need to worry about, fairy. Go home, and I'll be there soon. We'll continue talking about this later."

"Are you sure?" You press. "If something's wrong-"

"I told you, there's nothing you need to worry about," He promises. "I'll be at your place in a couple of hours, I swear."

Half-heartedly, you nod. "Okay."

"Good girl," Bucky mumbles, kissing your forehead. "I love you."

"I love you, too," You whisper, hundreds of worries swarming your mind.

When Bucky finally arrives at your apartment, it's almost midnight and he looks a lot less stressed out.

"Just something Uncle Jack needed me to sort out," He mumbles as he joins you on the floor in front of the couch. "Nothing major."

"That's good," You mutter, nodding, playing with the ring he gave you.

After a few moments of silence, he gently nudges your arm. "I've upset my fairy, haven't I?"

Sighing, you look down. "Maybe."

"Help me make it better," Bucky implores. "Come on, fairy. We've known each other too long for you to hold back on me. Give it to me straight."

Looking up at him, you furrow your brows. "What if I told you that you said you were in love with me while you were high on Tuesday night?"

The question takes him aback, and he says nothing.

"That you admitted that you want me as more than just your friend. More than a best friend," You hypothesize. "That you needed more than just friendship from me?

Raising a brow, he lets out a dry laugh. "I'd say, damn. The secret's out."

"Don't fuckin joke around with this shit, James," You say sternly, with no hint of humor in your tone or facial expression.

"I'm not fucking around," He claims. "Did I really tell you that?"

You shake your head. "No," You tell him truthfully. "...I did, though."

He swallows thickly, but he doesn't seem as shocked as you were expecting him to be. Instead, he looks down at the ring and strokes one of the small gems. "This was ma's stone," He reveals.

"What?" You ask, instantly recognising it as one of the gems on his mother's engagement ring now that he's pointed it out.

"I added it to your ring," He goes on to say. "Wanted... wanted a little bit of her love in it."

"Why would you do that for a pretend marriage?" You ask him incredulously.

"Because I don't want it to be pretend," Bucky admits before taking your hand in his. "Let's get married."

Your heart skips a beat. "Jamie-"

"Let's get married."

"Stop-"

"I'm not kidding around," He claims. "This is for real. I love you more than anything."

Utterly baffled, you shake your head. Your heart is racing, your fingers twitching. "Why has it taken this long for you to say it?"

Bucky shrugs, "At the start, you weren't ready for anything serious, and I didn't want to just casually date you. So, I stayed back. Fairy, it's so obvious that we are in love. We have been for so long."

Although you had yourself convinced that he didn't want you in that way because if he did, he would've acted on his feelings by now, you trust him too much to invalidate his words. "I know," You whisper, your eyes filling with tears.

"So, what the fuck are we doing?" He asks you wildly.

"I don't know!" You exclaim.

He grabs your face and pulls you closer. "Let's get married."

Snorting, you pull back. "I'm not just gonna fuckin'... marry you, Bucky Barnes."

"Why not?" He asks you between laughs.

"Because that would be insane!" You tell him, hitting his shoulder.

"Why would it be insane-"

"We need to talk about what we want from each other," You say, shaking your head. "We can't just go from being friends to being husband and wife."

"Sure, we can," Bucky says casually. "What would even change between us if we were to get married?"

"We'd live together," You point out.

"I'm with you almost 24/7, anyway," He states.

"We'd have to share everything," You add. "Bills, responsibilities."

"When have you ever had to worry about money, huh?" He questions you with a frown.

"It's more than just finances, Buck," You say with a disbelieving laugh. "It's... marriage, it's everything."

"I'll give you everything," He vows adamantly, wrapping his arm around you.

Clinging to his shirt, you frown up at him. "We... we don't even know if we're sexually compatible."

He narrows his eyes. "Do you really have any doubts, fairy?"

"Well, what if we aren't?" You challenge him.

"I know what you're into," He claims arrogantly. "And I can more than provide you with it."

You laugh heartily at his claim, raising a brow. "Oh, yeah? Like what?"

"I've seen your PornHub search history," He admits casually.

"Buck-"

"And I know exactly who you're subscribed to on OnlyFans," He adds with a wink. "You have good taste, baby."

"You're- that's a breach of my privacy!" You complain, pushing his shoulder.

He grabs your hand, his face dropping as he wraps his free hand around the back of your neck. "I know you like being taken care of, fairy," He mumbles lowly, making you shiver as he trails his fingers up your thigh. "I know you're aching to give up control. You need someone you can obey; someone who can fuck your brains out and reduce you to nothing but a dumb little fuckdoll."

The breath is stolen from your lungs. You feel as though your mind has gone blank, and all that matters is Bucky and his honey-like voice.

"All you have to do is say the word," He tells you, squeezing your thigh. "I can make your fantasies come true, fairy. You know I will."

"Jamie," You whimper, slowly moving your face closer to his.

"I'm right here, fairy," He whispers, stroking your neck. "I always have been, and I always will be. Do you trust me?"

"You know I do," You reply quickly, letting him pull you into his lap.

"Do you love me?"

"You know I do."

Without another word, he plants his lips on yours in a sweet kiss. At first, it's gentle and slow, until his hands find your ass and his tongue pushes past your lips. Just as the butterflies erupt in your stomach, though, there's a harsh knock at the door.

"Ignore it, fairy," Bucky mumbles against your lips, too lost in the kiss to notice the fact that someone's at your door in the middle of the night. "Just be a good girl for me."

His words get rid of your concern as you return to the kiss, running your hand through his hair as your tongues dance and glide across one another. Mere seconds pass before there's another knock, though - this time it's a lot louder and aggressive.

"Police, open up!" A gruff voice comes from the other side, making your heart skip a beat.

Bucky's grip tightens on your hip as his face drops. "Oh, fuck."

"Jamie?" You whisper, terrified. "What the fuck is going on?"

Looking at you, he cups your face and utters lowly, "We need to get the fuck out of here, fairy. Now."

side blog for updates: @kinanabinksupdates

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SEBASTIAN STAN as BUCKY BARNES The Falcon and The Winter Soldier (2021)

Sebastian❤️

✨Sebastian Stan manspreading appreciation post✨