✨Sebastian Stan Manspreading Appreciation Post✨

RIP Matthew Perry

Chris Evans as Frank Adler in Gifted (2017)

'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

The One Where They Agree To Make A Romcom

Seb and Jen on Variety’s Actors on Actors

Hi, for the bingo thingy, can you use “Can you stay?” for a chapter 3 of the Co-parenting ex husband Bucky fic? 😜🙈 (if you turn that into a sad ending again, I’ll ugly cry. 😅😘)

the wait is finally oveeerrr. I didn't expect to write this but it quickly turned into my favorite piece! Thank you for the love (especially after I wrote two sad parts loooolll)

Here it is! and you can find Pt 1 Here and Pt 2 here!

(Y/n) crossed her arms and leaned her head back on the wall, waiting for the principal’s door to open. She couldn’t believe this, Peanut was in kindergarten for fucks sake! How was the principal already calling her in. A couple of teachers had given (Y/n) a heads up, to control the situation before it exploded. 

So, a week ago (Y/n) and Bucky had to have the talk with their five-year-old daughter. Not the birds and the bees, the whole: Your dad is an ex-assassin called the Winter Soldier, he was actually born in 1917 and the whole vibranium arm thing. 

Bucky sat Peanut in front of them. “P, I’m going to tell you something but you have to pay attention okay?”

Her big blue eyes turned into marbles and she nodded her head. 

“You didn’t do anything wrong baby,” (Y/n) assured. “We just need to talk about something that happened to Daddy because we want you to know it from us okay?”

“Where do I begin?” Bucky sighed, he never thought the most difficult person to explain this to would be a child. His child. Bucky never thought he would be able to have a child in the first place. He felt (Y/n)’s hand rub circles on his back and he relaxed into her touch. 

Bucky had warned her about this, how the Winter Soldier would always shadow him. Looming in the darkness. But (Y/n) had said she didn’t care, that their children together would understand what happened and the rest of the world can process it however they wanted to. And here she was, carrying out her end of the deal. 

“I was born a long time ago Peanut.” Bucky started.

P bursted into laughter. “I know that, silly goose. You have white hair! Like the pictures you show me of Uncle Stevie!”

(Y/n) bit the inside of her cheek to hide her laugh but she ended up having to hide behind Bucky as to not incite their daughter’s roasts.

“This is going well.” Bucky muttered.

“You don’t look like Steve, I promise.” She assured, running her fingers through the short hair on the back of his head. “Plus, I like your hair like this. Salt and pepper suits you.” 

But now, a week later, the two of them were called into the principal’s office. The glass door opened. 

“Good morning, thank you for coming.” He told (Y/n). “Should we wait for Mr. Barnes?”

“He won’t be joining us today.” She said in automatic but as she was walking into the principal’s office, a huffing Bucky came into view.

“Sorry I’m late.” Bucky took a deep breath, taking off his leather jacket and placing it behind one of the two chairs in front of the principal’s desk. He took the chair next to him out for (Y/n) to sit in before sitting down himself. 

“I know the two of you are very busy but this issue with your daughter needs to be fixed.” The principal started. “As you know, we are a very private school and we can assure you we’re talking to Billy’s parents as well.”

“Yesterday, Billy told your daughter that he knew who her father was.” The principal continued, making Bucky look down at the floor. “Billy’s older brother told him and showed him some videos on the internet.”

(Y/n) grew angry. “If this is Billy’s fault, then why are we here. James and I talked to you before P came to this school and you assured us it wouldn’t be a problem. We spend a lot of money on this school for this to suddenly become a problem.”

“The problem is that after this, your daughter threatened Billy. She said,” The principal took a look at the paper in front of him, a teacher’s report. “If you know who my dad is then you know you shouldn’t talk to me like that. When I tell him about you, he will squish you with his metal arm.” 

(Y/n) jaw dropped. Oh my god. 

She turned around to look at Bucky but he didn’t have the reaction she wanted. He sat there with a smug smile on his face and his arms crossed. 

“She’s defending herself.” Bucky shrugged and (Y/n) covered her face with her hands.

“You can’t just say that!” She laughed, they decided to get some coffee after the meeting with P’s principal. 

“Why not?” Bucky smiled. “I’m not going to tell off P just because of that stupid kid Billy who by the way, I would squish with my arm.”

“Good to know you’d turn Winter Soldier at the blink of Peanut’s eyes.” She rolled her eyes. 

“She’s my little girl! What else am I supposed to do?” 

“Something along the lines of: Peanut you can’t threaten people.” (Y/n) said, she didn’t think she would have to be explaining why threatening people is wrong to a hundred-year-old man. 

“I’m not going to tell her not to defend herself.” Bucky said. “She’s gutsy and headstrong, P takes after her mother.”

(Y/n) rolled her eyes. “I’m not headstrong.”

Bucky stopped in his tracks, taking (Y/n)’s shoulders in his hands and making her look at him. “I didn’t mean it like that, like it’s a bad thing- I love that about you. It was one of the things that drew me into you.” 

A smile developed on (Y/n)’s lips. “Who knew P’s heroic stunt would turn into a compliment shower. Not that I’m complaining.”

Bucky sipped his coffee, tucking her body under his arm and bringing (Y/n) flush to his side. “You want more? Let’s see, you’re insanely witty, you have a beautifully complex mind, you’re extremely hot and you have a thing for older men- which I much appreciate.”

She laughed, burring her face in his chest. It felt so familiar, it felt like home.

- 

It was two am when she heard the shriek. (Y/n) jumped out of bed and opened her bedroom door, trying to find Peanut. The moonlit stairs looked like a crime scene. Blood dripped from step to step all the way to the bottom, where Peanut lay screaming bloody murder.

She raced down the stairs and held her daughter in her arms.

“Mommy it hurts.” Peanut cried, bringing her hand up to a gash on her forehead. 

“I know it hurts baby, I know.” Tears flooded (Y/n)’s eyes but she couldn’t break, not in front of her bleeding daughter. “It’s okay P, I’m going to take you to the hospital okay?”

(Y/n) grabbed the first coat she could find in the closet and the nearest pair of shoes, she rushed to strap P on her car seat and drove to the hospital. 

Ring, ring. 

“Please answer Bucky, please.” (Y/n) had called her ex-husband from the car. 

“Hello?” Bucky’s raspy and sleep filled voice answered.

“Buck?” (Y/n)’s voice cracked, making Bucky sit up straight in bed in a second. “Something’s happened with Peanut, we’re on our way to the hospital.”

“I’ll be there in five.” Was all he said. 

(Y/n) paced outside the room, she could see her daughter sleeping on the white hospital bed through the cracks in the curtains. 

Two hands gripped her shoulders, one cold and one warm, making her eyes shoot up from the floor. 

“What happened?” Bucky asked, peeking into the room. 

“I don’t know what she was trying to do Buck- she got up in the middle of the night and somehow. I don’t know, she fell down the stairs and cut her forehead open.” (Y/n) spoke quickly, like if she processed the words she was speaking she would break. “She said something about wanting to sleep with the doll you brought from Wakanda- I don’t know.”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. Peanut is fine.” Bucky tried to soothe her. 

(Y/n) clenched her fists at her side and bit her cheek. Anything to stop her from crying. “If I hadn’t forgotten the stupid doll-“

Bucky took her face in his hands. “This was an accident, it’s no one’s fault.”

(Y/n) slowly nodded, trying to blink away the tears. 

Bucky’s eyes furrowed. “Doll, darling, look at me. I’m going to need you to say that. You know it was an accident right?”

“It was an accident.” She whispered, the pain becoming unbearable.

Bucky wrapped his arms around her, bringing her as close to him as possible. “You’re okay, everything’s going to be fine. I’m here, I’m here for you, for as long as you want me to be.”

That was it, what she needed to hear to break down. To be vulnerable. To know someone would be there to catch her if she fell. 

(Y/n) sobbed into Bucky’s chest for what felt like hours. And he was there, rubbing her back soothingly and whispering kind words into her ear. 

It was well into the evening the next day when Peanut was finally given the all clear from her doctors. Three stitches and an ankle sprain later, she was tucked into bed. 

“I need you to promise me you will never ever do that again.” Bucky brought the comforter up as he tucked Peanut in. 

“Promise daddy.” She smiled. “You wanna know something cool?”

“What’s that?” Bucky ran his finger against her cheek. 

Peanut sat up and pulled Bucky’s cap sleeve up to his shoulder. “Daddy and P are gonna match.”

Bucky’s eyes swelled with tears as he saw his little girl’s tiny hand rub against the scarred skin on his left shoulder. It was like all the pain and suffering suddenly turned into something good. With six simple words, Peanut made everything worth it.

“We sure are.” Bucky lips turned upwards. 

“She looks so peaceful, you wouldn’t imagine she’s a little tornado once those pretty eyes open.” Bucky chuckled lightly as he closed his daughter’s bedroom door. 

“We’ve been amazing parents for the past 24 hours, could I interest you in a glass of cheap wine that will definitely give us a headache tomorrow?” (Y/n) smiled. 

“You read my mind.” Bucky leaned his head back with closed eyes, he grabbed the baby monitor from the hallway credenza. “How about you go outside and I’ll bring everything out. You deserve a break.”

And what a break he gave (Y/n). Bucky just about held the glass of wine to her lips. He brought out the drinks, some snacks and started by bringing her legs closer to him. Massaging her tired calves. 

“I still remember when we bought the house.” Bucky hummed. “And now it’s been what- six years?”

“Do you remember when we wanted to buy that new build? Everything was so white and sterile.” (Y/n) laughed. “But as soon as I found this house, I knew it was the one.”

“Excuse me?” Bucky laughed, eyebrows raised. “If I remember correctly, I was the one who found the house. You were sad thinking we hadn’t found a home, and I was the one who begged you to come and see it.”

(Y/n)’s happy smile dimmed. “We were so happy when we first moved in, what happened?”

“I took you for granted.” Bucky sighed. “That’s what happened.”

“After Steve left, I think I just stopped wanting anything. Work seemed boring, life at home was scary, taking care of P was terrifying for me. For years I thought I would be alone in this world and then suddenly, you came and gave me more love than I deserved. Gave me a beautiful daughter.” Bucky opened his heart. “And instead of working on myself I decided to just stop, stop trying. And it was selfish of me to think that you would just ride along with me even though I did everything to push you away. I never wanted you to think I didn’t love you, God do I love you. Sometimes I’m truly scared of what I feel because I love you so much it hurts. It pains me to have had you and lost you.”

Bucky tried to get out a strong voice but it cracked. “And I’ll live the rest of my life loving you and regretting having lost you. Sometimes, I think it’s a form of Karma. Like the gods above don’t know every wrong thing I did wasn’t me so now I have to live with this deep regret. The kind that settles into your bones.”

“Buck-“ (Y/n) tried to comfort him.

“No,” He shook his head. “you’re too sweet for your own good and you’ll try and tell me it’s not my fault. But it is. I’m not telling you this so you have pity on me, I just want you to know that I fucked up. You were perfect and amazing and I didn’t know what to do with something so delicate.”

“And I’m saying this just so you know that I’ll always be here for you. I’ll always love you.” 

(Y/n) couldn’t take it anymore. She crashed her lips onto his. A kiss that would explain everything she felt. All the anger, all the sadness and especially all the love. A kiss that says: I love you too.

She rested her forehead against his, her breath shallow. “Can you stay?”

“Stay tonight?” He asked, his voice pained. 

“Please stay forever.” She whispered. 

Thank you thank you sooo much for the love! Hope you guys like it, if you do remember to like reblog and comment! I'll love you forever if you do <3

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Hi hiiii This is part of my 1k Celebration, if you like this please be sure to look at the Bingo Card and ask for a prompt! Love y'all <33

And you can find the Bingo master list and what prompts are still available here!

Relative Dating Part Eighteen

Previous Part | Masterlist | Next Part

Pairing: Indiana Jones x Reader

Rating: M

Notes: Welcome back to the latest garbage fire!

The artifact mentioned in this chapter is a fake one.

Warnings: Cursing; period-typical sexism; period-typical expectations of women; some angst; fluff

Summary: It’s been three years since she left him to spend his last night alone in Cairo—three years of living in New York; three years of half-heartedly wondering what might’ve been; and three years of wondering if she, wherever she is, thinks of him, too.

“I don’t want a lot of tears tomorrow.”

“Then don’t cry.” She gives him a sly look, even as his eyes narrow in irritation at her.

“I meant from you,” Indiana clarifies.

“I won’t cry. I’m not leaving Cairo empty-handed.”

“Right,” He drawls, eying the black Abyssinian kitten in the carrier in her hand.

“Isn’t she cute!”

“You name her?”

“Bastet, of course.”

“Of course.”

Keep reading

Chris Evans as Frank Adler in Gifted (2017)

gimme an M, gimme a U (4/?)

Pairings: Yenzy (Jensen) x itty bitty (platonic) and Hockeyplayer!Ari Levinson x female reader (Levs x itty bitty)

Warnings: explicit language, physical violence- minor and not in detail (male towards male) excessive legal age drinking, heartache, angst, idiots in love and ruining it, bonehead Levs, MU team, itty bitty acting out of character, explicit sexual content implied- possibly a little dub con-ish depending on how you look at it, size kink- itty bitty is short and it’s making all the boys feral (must be 18+)

Word Count: 2.6K

A/N: not beta read. All mistakes are my own.

I know she’s not here anymore but a thank you to my sweet friend Siri for reading though this and spitballing ideas with me ❤️

Levs (Ari) x itty bitty: hockey AU

Lucky Charms: hockey AU

So, just because there’s been some buzz around this part in particular- could I ask that you kindly put any spoiler comments/reblogs under a cut, please? 🙏❤️ Thank you for all your support! I appreciate all of you so much!

"He's freaking out, y/n... can you at least let him know you're OK?" Yenzy sighed, tapping the pencil on his notebook as he swiveled in his desk chair. He took his glasses off and rubbed at his tired eyes before replacing them.

It had been nearly a week since you left Ari at the arena and ever since the boys won, Ari had been calling you non-stop. Your mailbox was full and he had even accosted your roommate, drunk and begging for your whereabouts.

You had left- not even telling your roommate where you planned on going. You didn't have a plan. You just needed a place where he wouldn't find you. And he would never think to look for you... here.

"How 'bout an I'm OK, now fuck off text?" Yenzy smirked.

"No" you snorted stubbornly, "he can eat shit" you double hiccuped and then giggled.

Yenzy heard a muffled male voice in the background of wherever you were, you pulled the phone away and held it to your chest as you spoke to the unidentified male, Yenzy only hearing bits and pieces of a garbled conversation.

"Hey, bit..." Yenzy called into the phone.

"You're dumb... it's not a catchphrase..." you scoffed, bringing the phone back to your ear, "anyone can say that..." you said, addressing the male voice.

"Bitty..." Jake tried again, louder this time.

"Yuck..." your hiccuped was a squeak, "don't call me that... I hate it... I hate that stupid nickname... who cares if I'm short? He's a big dumb giant" you harrumphed.

"How much have you had to drink?" Yenzy asked, concern laced his tone.

"Dunno" you sighed into the phone with a shrug, "but I need a refill..." you sang out to no one in particular.

"Are you at least being safe?" Yenzy asked with a heavy exhale, "where are you?"

"I'm fine" you assured, "I just need to not feel for awhile, Yenz" you dropped your voice so only Yenzy could hear you, "and I'm not telling you... cause then you'll tell him and he'll come find me... and I'm not... ready" your voice was growing watery again as you thoughts drifted back to Ari.

You couldn't think of him for too long- you wouldn't let yourself- or it would start the spiral of devastation all over again. He had been your everything for the past two years and you were his... nothing.

Why did it take you so damn long to realize that? You felt like a joke.

You were nothing but a good time for him. A stop  in between his revolving door of partners. Maybe he had been sleeping with others all along- even when he said he was waiting to score with you.

You felt like you were going to be sick. Clearing your throat as you wiped the tears with the back of your borrowed sweater.

"Y/N..." Yenzy blew out another exhale -completely over being in the middle of all of this- he had clearly been trying to get your attention as you were lost in thought, "just be careful, please? And call me if you need anything... I won't tell him if you don't want me..." but Jensen's words were cut short when there was a loud commotion on his end of the phone.

"What the hell?" Yenzy huffed when his bedroom door flung open with a force that rattled the house.

"Is that bit? Where is she? Gimme the phone" Levs' demanded as he rushed across the room.

Ari looked disheveled; bloodshot eyes, hair tossled from racking his hands through it one too many times and he smelled like booze.

"Levs... she doesn't want to tal..." Yenzy started before Levs yanked the phone from the goalie's hand.

"Bit?" Levs tried to keep his voice even but it trembled. The line was dead.

"Fuck" Levs yelled, nearly cracking Yenzy's phone when he closed his fist around it with a snarl. His face flushed pink as he seethed down at his teammate.

"Why didn't you tell me she was talking to you?" Levs barked, "I've been trying to get a hold of her for days..."

"Jesus, man... get a grip" Yenzy said, standing and maneuvering around Levs as he tried to leave his room, "she doesn't want to talk to you."

"Get a grip?" Levs spun around, "she's my... my..."

"Your what, man?" Yenzy goaded, "you're a mess 'cause she left and you still can't fucking admit what she is to you..."

"Fuck you, Jensen" Levs growled.

"That's it... keep deflecting..." Yenzy scoffed, rolling his eyes.

"SHE'S MY FUCKING EVERYTHING" Levs yelled in a drunken rage as he threw Yenzy's phone to the floor.

Yenzy's jaw ticked, his fists clenched at his sides- he moved to pick his phone up, but Ari took an aggressive step towards the goalie, boxing him in against his bookcase.

"Then why don't you fucking tell her that?" Yenzy shot back, matching Levs' volume but not his bite.

"Watch it" Levs' anger was barely contained, boiling just under the surface.

"You've been stringing y/n along for how many years now?" Yenzy asked, "she's gone, pal..."

"I'm not your fucking pal" Levs loomed over Jensen with about 4 extra inches.

"She's too good for you" Jensen scoffed under his breath, standing his ground.

"What the fuck did you just say?" Levs growled.

"You heard me" Yenzy said, glaring at the brute.

Cappy, Sam and some of the other boys had made their way to the bedroom hallway from downstairs after hearing the yelling.

"She's too good for me, 'cause what?" Levs snorted harshly, "you wanna fuck her, Yenzy?"

"You're drunk" Yenzy glared at him.

"And you wanna fuck my girl" Levs countered.

"No... y/n and I are just friends... became friends the last time you were a massive dick to her in fact" Yenzy said, bluntly.

"What the hell does that mean?" Levs snarled.

"When you went home for the summer and hooked up with an ex..." Yenzy continued, "y/n found out... she saw it all... some video on TikTok or something."

"What?" Levs asked, "how? She never told me that..."

"Because she was humiliated..." Yenzy scoffed, "she had just told you she had feelings for you and you go and fuck some other girl?"

"I never fucked her..." Levs growled, taking Yenzy's shirt in his fists and yanking him close.

"Hey" Cappy yelled, getting in Levs' face, "walk it off, Levs" he said as Sam and Johnny rushed in, each grabbing a shoulder of the Canadian powerhouse.

Levs easily shook off his teammates' holds, glowering down at his goalie just as Yenzy's phone buzzed to life. Levs glared at Jensen, shoving him one last time before letting go of his rumbled t-shirt.

"If this is fucking broken..." Yenzy threatened as he bent down, picking up the phone and answering it when he saw your picture flash across the screen.

"Yenzy, is he still there?" you asked, your voice was steady, but inside you were trembling.

"Yes" Yenzy snarled, glaring at Levs who had backed off but still looked menacing in his current state of beast mode.

"Give him the phone" you instructed.

"You sure?" Yenzy asked.

"Please, Jake..." you blew out a heavy exhale.

Jensen sighed, reluctantly offering Levs the phone as he shook his head, throwing his hands in the air as if he were washing himself clean of the whole damn thing. Yenzy turned, storming out of his bedroom with a curse.

"Bit?" Levs asked, turning his back on his teammates as they also decided to leave the room.

"Stop calling me" you snapped.

"What? Bit, please..." Ari's voice was pained as he paced the small space, "I'm so sorry... I..."

"And leave my roommate and Yenzy alone. I'm not even at my place and I'm not coming back... They don't have anything to do with this..." you continued, ignoring his pleas.

"Where are you?" he asked.

"That's none of your concern anymore" you said.

"Bit... I scored... I scored" he slurred, "just come home, baby... please?" Ari begged, his voice watery now. You could tell he was drunk.

"Oh, that's great" your sarcasm was thick, "have fun with Kimmie..."

"What?" he snorted, "no, bit... it's you... it's only you... I scored for you..." Ari paused his pacing to emphasize every word.

"I don't care" you spat, "none of it matters... it never mattered, Levs..."

"Bit... don't say that..." but Ari's words were choked off with emotion, "don't do this to us, baby..."

"You did this... you did this to us" your tone was surprisingly calm, "you fucking did this to us... I was right there the whole fucking time and it never mattered."

"That's not true, bit" Ari's voice cracked again as he fought back the tears.

"Stop fucking calling me bit" you screamed into the phone, "I'm not your bit... I'm not your fucking anything..."

The phone went dead as Levs sank down on Yenzy's bed with a sob.

You stared at the phone for a long minute, eyes prickling with tears. The sound of someone clearing their throat startled you back to the present.

"Good girl" Ransom goaded, walking back into his bedroom and handing you an imported beer. You'd been getting drunk off this fancy shit ever since you showed up on his doorstep that night.

"Shut up" you whined, "I don't even know why we’re doing this... he's never gonna care..." you wiped a tear with the back of your hand.

"A guy like Levinson? Thinking he missed out on that tight little snatch? He's gonna fucking care" Ransom hissed, tossing you a jersey as he sat opposite you in his expensive oversized Italian leather chair.

"You're gross" you cringed, "why did I get drunk and tell you everything?"

"Cause I'm a good listener" Ransom snorted, not even believing himself.

"Are you just being nice to me so you can get in my pants?" you wondered out loud.

"Think that's been pretty clear from the start, little bitty kitty..." Ransom smirked.

"Ew! Don't call me that" you hiccuped.

"Why?" Ransom's eyes twinkled with delight, "she's obviously little, Ransom leaned forward, taking handful's of your soft curves and yanking you to the edge of his bed. You gasped, almost spilling your beer before squirming out of his hold as he frowned. Ransom leaning back in his chair with an exaggerated eye roll.

Trying to ignore the tension building in the room, you set the beer bottle on his bedside table and grabbed the jersey he had thrown at you.

"I'm not wearing this..." you frowned, holding up Ransom's MU knit. Even their jersey's were menacing.

"Sure you are... to the game with those assholes and Coach Barber" Ransom hummed, before standing up again and grabbing his giant hockey duffle from his bedroom floor, "Levinson will go balistic... and you want him off your back, right?"

You blew out a heavy sigh, but remained silent.

"Y/N... I'm not running a fucking bed-and-breakfast here..." Ransom narrowed his eyes at you, "and I'm not a nice guy... figure your shit out with that goon or wear the jersey..."

"It's not that easy, Ransom... I..." you started, but Ransom cut you off.

"Look... I don't give a shit what you do... but after we win tonight, I'm fucking whatever cunt ends up in my bed - even if that's your pretty little kitty... bet you're so fucking tight... and that it's been way too long... you're just begging to be stretched by a fat cock, huh?" his eyes darkened, staring at you hungrily.

You chirped, opening your mouth to protest, but your throat had gone completely dry.

"Wear it" he pressed, a satisfied smirk curling the corner of his mouth as he turned on the spot, leaving his room without another word.

A bad feeling sat heavy in your gut as you watched him go. Following through with some half-baked plan that you schemed up while drunk with Ransom last night- now suddenly sounded like the worst idea ever.

You stood, holding up Ransom’s jersey before deciding better of it and draping it over the back of his leather chair. You quickly tugged his sweater over your head and proceeded to hang it neatly next to his MU away uniform.

You left Ransom's room, in a pair jeans and a tank top, making your way through the house- on a mission.

It wasn’t long before you found another jersey, hanging from a rack near the kitchen. Taking that one off the hook, you held it up, admiring the quality red white and blue stiching. Your fingers traced the "Tucker" across the back. Lance boasting, just last night, that he was the only one from MU that had ever been invited to play for Team USA at the Olympics. They took gold that year- Lance had the tattoo to prove it.

You shook your head, hanging the jersey back up on its hook. That one wasn't going to cut it either.

Making your way through the kitchen to the other side of the house you stopped right outside his room. You felt like a modern day Goldilocks, not necessarily in looks, but in determination to find a jersey that was just right.

In a moment of panic, you faltered. Could you really be this mean? Did you want to be this mean? Levs had hurt you. Shattered your heart into a million pieces and you were ready for him to feel some of that heartache.

As you stood there, agonizing over everything that had happened in the last two years to lead up to this moment, the bedroom door in front of you swung open.

"Why hello there, dewdrop" his unconventional choice in facial hair made him look at least 5 years older than all the other players on MU as he glanced down at you with, mischief in his eyes,  "what can I do for you?"

His words and tone were deceivingly sweet, but you knew he was anything but kind. And he was exactly what you needed to get Ari off your back.

"You mind if I borrow your away jersey tonight?" you chirped before you lost your nerve.

"Thought you'd be wearing Drysdale's'?" his lip curled into a sickening sneer. You weren't sure what it was exactly, but he made your skin crawl.

"No" you said, crossing your arms over your chest as his gaze bore through your thin cotton tank top until you felt exposed.

"An' what do I get in return?" he smirked, leaning in his doorway, his larger than life frame taking up as much space as possible. Could he possibly be taller than Levs?

"I... um..." nervous laughter bubbled up your throat as your arms fell to your sides.

"Don't worry, sweetheart..." he smirked, smoothing his hand over his facial hair, "sure we can work something out..." he turned, disappearing into his room and returning a few seconds later with a dark MU jersey.

He licked his lips before extending the jersey to you, but instead of letting it go when you took it, he yanked you forward, crashing you into his hard chest with a growl as he wrapped a thick arm around your waist.

"Been dying to get a taste of that sweet nectar, dewdrop..." he whispered hot in your ear, "gotta see if that tight little honeypot lives up to all the hype... I got a feeling both holes are just achin’ to be stuffed."

All you could do was whine as you braced your hands against his broad chest. He let you and the jersey go with a snicker, humming to himself as he left you there alone, his jersey in hand.

You stood, frozen on the spot, until you knew he was gone, leaving for the MU arena to get ready for the game tonight. You blow out an exhale, holding the jersey up to read the big block lettering across the back.

"Hansen" you said aloud to yourself. A shiver snaking up your spine. This was a very bad idea.

A/N: so I’m going to post this and run 🫣 I don’t want to know if you hate it 😓🤐

The hockey divider is 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 ❤️