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wandsandwheezes · 4 years

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Wild Child | F.W

Wild Child x Harry Potter AU // 3k words // this is all thanks to @starlightweasley for making it happen and giving me the inspiration + plot to do it!!

this whole fic is dedicated to her because she deserves it sfm!!!

taglist ; @weasleysflowr @wand3ringr0s3 @gcdric @theweasleysredhair @hufflepuffgirly @whiz-bangs78 @starlightweasley @slytherinsunrise @cappsikle @minty-malfoy @vivianweasley @vogueweasley @feetoffthetablee @thisismynerdyself @witch-and-a-half @sarcasticallywitty15 @pandaxnienke

Two months ago the worst day of your life happened. Two months ago your father dragged you, kicking and screaming, to a portkey- ready to ship you off to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. “Y/N, this is the last straw! I have had it up to here with your pranks.” you screamed back at him, pulling your hand from his grip, “You ship me off to England for what? To replace me like you replaced mom? Real jerk move dad.” The second you laid eyes on the overbearing castle you already knew you hated it.

You were now laid back against your uncomfortable bed, rolling your eyes, “FYI this place sucks, I can’t even breathe properly with how stuffy these uniforms are and don’t even get me started on the lack of fun and opportunities for pranks. It’s H-E-double L here.” Hermione, pulls a chair up next to your poster bed, resting against one of the posts. “You could at least try and have fun, you know. It’s not all that bad when you forget about the lack of sun and abundant rain.” Ginny looks up from her book, swinging her legs so they’re dangled off the windowsill, “If you’re so desperate to leave, you’ll just have to get yourself expelled - simple pranks and mischief isn’t enough to do it, think bigger.” you sigh pushing yourself to sit up, wrapping your arms around your legs and resting your head on your knees.”

A debate ensued as the evening grew, Hermione taking herself away from the conversation and to the common room to avoid any chance of getting roped into expulsion with your antics. “If we’re going big with pranks, there’s nobody better to go to than Fred and George.” Parvati suggests, “Even better you could try snogging one of them, It would send Umbridge mad.” Padma adds, Ginny retches at the idea, turning up her nose with disgust but laughing a little “The thought of anyone snogging any one of my brothers is ghastly, but It’s not a bad Idea, from what I’ve heard they’re not looking to stick around with the pink devil here.” You smile softly, looking up at Ginny as she continues, “Let’s get you your ticket home for Christmas!”

Sure you had played quidditch back home but you were only ever a reserve, so when ginny flew down to you, yelling that you had to take her place, not only was your heart beating out of your chest, but you suddenly questioned any and all experience you had on a quidditch pitch. Maybe you didn’t know how to play, maybe your Ilvermorny friends were lying when they said you had talent. Before you knew it, you were whizzing around the pitch, quaffle in hand, ready to score. Gryffindor were ahead 40 points by the time Harry had caught the golden snitch, meaning that not only had you helped in scoring goals, but you were on the winning team!

“Not bad, Y/L/N, I didn’t know they taught good sports across the pond,” you scoff with a laugh, walking next to the tall, red haired boy as he pushes his sweat soaked hair back and you couldn’t help but think of how attractive he was, he looked down at you, stopping you from waking, wiping a stray bit of mud from your cheek with the pad of his thumb, licking his other finger to move back in to wipe the rest away, causing you to push him away with a laugh, “I don’t want your spit anywhere near me, Weasley” he smiles, “hmm, are you sure about that?” he grabs your wrist, locking eyes for a moment - you swear you could feel the tension surrounding the both of you, so thick that it could be cut with a knife, only being broken away by the sound of a high pitched scream, causing you both to spin to look in the direction of the noise. “I take it Draco found my nice little gift, I always knew he was a proud slytherin.” Fred’s eyes widen, a smirk cracking across his lips. “You didn’t.” you nodded, starting to make your way to the Gryffindor changing rooms, “Oh, I did, just a little harmless charmed shampoo,” you shrug, he follows after you, shaking his head with a small laugh “You’re trouble, you are.”

Seeing Draco walk into the great Hall for dinner that evening was a sight to see, his bright green hair and eyebrows were unmissable, it was truly a look that turned heads, You, Ginny and the rest of the team were filling your boots on the feast before the victory party continued in Gryffindor Tower. “God, if Umbridge doesn’t punish you for that on her lap dog's plea, you’re crazy, Y/N” There were laughs between mouthfuls and cheers, “She’s only learning from the best, isn’t that right?” you shake your head, taking a sip of juice “Freddie, you of all people should know I was trouble before I’d even met you.”

If there was one thing you’d learned, the English love to party and when they party, they party hard. Bottles of firewhisky were cracked open, music blaring from god knows where, there was laughter, shouting, dancing, games and kissing or, as they call it, snogging everywhere you looked. You were high off the win alone, feeling happy for one of the first times in your few months here, you had supportive friends and most of all you had a piece of your home. Your mum was a brilliant Chaser in her time, or so your father had told you. You had lost your mum in the aftermath of the first wizarding war, a death eater seeking her out all the way across the pond and killing her in front of your father. You were only three and although you don’t remember much of her, you do remember the songs she used to sing and just how magical she made your young childhood, much to the dismay of your father. You felt your chest tighten and tears prick the back of your eyes, causing you to run from the wild party.

Fred caught you fleeing the party, even the small glimpse of your sad face breaking his heart a little, never had he seen a girl as beautiful as you cry. He felt compelled to follow you and over some consolation, he was drawn to you like you were tethered by a piece of string, following your every step till he found you crouched in a corner on the floor, staring out across the black lake. He joined you on the cold stone floor, sitting across from you. “It’s not like the wild child to not be out there as the life and soul of the party,” Fred jokes, punching your arm lightly, causing you to look up at him with a puffy eyed scowl, “okay, no jokes then.” he sighs, pulling you into his side, rubbing his hand up and down your arm comfortingly. You open up to him about losing your mother and how you feel absolutely alienated by your dad, listening intently, not daring to interrupt. “I’ll make you a deal,” he speaks up after a long sigh from you, “No more head-fry behaviour, though, I sense it may be your forte” you smile a little, the corner of your mouth turning up into a smile, “I won’t fry your head if you don’t poach my heart.” he smiles tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, “an eggcellent deal.”

As you’re walking through the halls on your way to divination, a pep in your step from a good night’s sleep and a new focus, finally you’re starting to actually feel as if Hogwarts was the place to be and you feel yourself growing happier and happier with every day you spend here. You’re distracted from your thoughts when you feel yourself being pulled hurriedly into a side corridor by your hand, Fred was staring down at you, his hand pressed against the wall by your head as he traps you between the stone and his own body, “How would you feel about a going to Hogsmeade with me this weekend?” he asks quietly, “Why all the secrecy Freddie? Don’t want to be caught fraternising with the enemy?” he laughs pressing a kiss to your cheek, “No, I just don’t want Umbridge finding out I’ve broken her six inch rule, but if you’re happy to risk it we can head to divination hand in hand now.” he grabs your hand, lacing your fingers together, you giggle shaking your head, “We had a deal, no head frying.” he looks behind his shoulder before giving you some space, allowing you to continue your walk, “You didn’t answer me about the weekend.” you spin on your heel to look at him, continuing to walk backwards, “I think it would be eggciting, Freddie.” you spin back around to follow on with your journey, leaving the tall boy blushing and laughing to himself.

Freddie Weasley was a dime away from being a whole gentleman, he picked you up from the great hall and walked with you side by side to the small wizarding town, “I didn’t put you as a girl who enjoyed walking.” he joked, nudging you with his shoulder, you roll your eyes, “Well, I didn’t expect a flying car or anything,” he smiles, scratching the back of his neck, “well actually, my dad used to own one of those,” your jaw dropped, gasping a little, “As if!” He pushes open the door to the three broomsticks, sitting you down at a table as he shrugs off his jacket, hanging it over the chair, leaving to head over to the bar, he returns with a tray carrying two drinks and a plate. “Here you go, trouble.” he puts the drink in front of you, with you now being able to spot the contents of the plate, “Bread and fries, that's my treat?” he laughs, placing a few of the chips inside the slice of buttered bread, handing you the foreign looking sandwich “If I affect your life in no other way, then allow me this honour, the humble chip butty and a butterbeer ” You gingerly take the food into your hands, looking at it cautiously before directing your attention to the drink, scanning it for a few moments, “Here we go.” you take a small bite, the softness of the bread clashed with the hot chips which had melted the butter ever so slightly, it wasn’t unpleasant but it was definitely weird, “Kind of gross, but I like it.” you pop down the sandwich, taking a sip of the butterbeer.

After a few moments of talking, you found yourself staring into Fred’s eyes deeper and for longer, as if it no longer mattered what the two of you were saying, as long as you were with each other. “There’s something about you, Y/N,” he says, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear “Every moment I’m with you I catch my breath.” your hand presses gently against his chest, balling up the material of his t-shirt in your hand to pull him in closer. Before you knew it, your lips had connected in a soft, gentle kiss and you felt yourself melting into his touch. You were slowly coming to realise that the thing that could aid your leaving may actually be enticing you to stay. The kiss didn’t last long but it left your head spinning.

You had made your way towards the black lake, sitting on the verge just by the water, a blanket wrapped over both your shoulders, sat talking and watching the sunset as it changed and faded the colours in the sky. You were enamoured by him. Why did you have to fall so hard for him? “I need to tell you something.” he confessed, you lift your head from where it was resting on his shoulder, “What is it?” you shift a little so that you can look into his eyes but he averts your gaze. “George and I, we’re leaving here, to set up a shop down In London, I feel guilty for not telling you sooner but I didn’t think I’d fall for you as hard as I have.” He takes a deep breath, you’re stunned for words. “I’m sorry.” he breathes out finally. You grab his face, pressing a quick kiss to his lips, “Don’t ever be sorry for following your dreams, Freddie.”

In the week or so after your date with Fred, you noticed you hadn’t seen him as much and you wondered If there had been something you’d done wrong. Surely not, he must’ve just been busy planning the perfect exit, so you left him to it, until a whole two weeks had passed. You spotted him turning down a side hall, unmistakable tall, lanky, ginger - it must be him. You hurried down the corridor, yelling after the boy, “Freddie, wait!” hearing your voice made him walk a little faster, your shorter legs struggling to make a gain on him, you stop and shout once more, “Why do you keep avoiding me?” he stops bolt in his tracks, giving you an opportunity to catch up on him. “I’m surprised you want anything to do with such a plain English boy, collecting me like a trophy to brag to your Ilvermorny friends about how easy I was, or was that just another one of your cruel pranks to finally get yourself expelled?” you look up at him, brow furrowed In confusion. “Where did you get that from, Fred? I care about you, I really do.” he rolls his eyes, pushing past you, muttering under his breath, yet still audible enough for you to hear “bullshit.” You run back after him, “Freddie, you’re right, I was trying to get myself expelled, and I knew that being associated with you would do it with how much Umbridge despises you and Gorge, you have to believe that it was a horrible to do that to you at the start but- i've fallen for you.” he sighs, rubbing his temples, “It’s too late, Umbridge is already looking for you, Looks like you’ll get your wish after all.” A tear rolls down your cheek, “Freddie, I-” he cuts you off by pressing a kiss to your cheek, “I’m sorry, trouble.”

The full flood gates open, as you make your way back to Gryffindor tower, tears streaming down your cheeks but your sobs are silent. How had you managed to lose the best thing to happen to you and get yourself expelled? You admire every inch of the castle grounds as you walk, fearing it’s the last time you may see it, when a picture catches your eye, locked in a cabinet full of trophies, medals and awards, you see a reflection of yourself staring back, “mom?” you whisper, pulling out your wand to unlock it with an ‘alohomora’, you grab the picture off the shelf, locking the cabinet again. McGonagall finds you wandering aimlessly, guiding you to Dumbledore’s office, “I have a feeling you will want to speak to him before your Father arrives,” she explains “Don’t worry, he’s expecting you.”

“Ah, Miss Y/N, I see you have found your way into my office,” He speaks quickly, as you come into his view, “I remember when your mother stood not too far from where you are stood before me now; a bright young student, a star quidditch player and not to mention a true hero against all odds. I take you found the photo of her in the cabinet, as you are clutching it so tightly.” you were at a loss for words, “You knew my mom?” you questioned, “Very well indeed, She was one of the best in her year, when word arrived of her death I sent all the help I could give to your father, I told him you would always find a home here at Hogwarts.” you sighed, wiping the tears from your cheeks, “Then why am I being expelled?” you query, Dumbledore pauses for a moment, “You will learn a great many things here in your time, and already I see a change, you have gained knowledge, strength, integrity, good-will and determination. You have proven that you have the capacity to do well here and as I said Hogwarts will always be your home.” you smile, “Then I can stay, can I, Professor?” The old man chuckles “You have a quidditch game to get ready for, go out there and make your mother proud.” he smiles at you, you smile back at him gratefully. “Thank you, Professor.”

You run out, standing next to Fred, breathless from changing so quickly, “I thought you were getting expelled,” he joked, “As did I, I thought you hated me.” he sighed, grabbing your hand and giving it a squeeze, “Never. It’s good to have you back, trouble, even though you backed out of our deal.” you laughed, “What deal, Freddie?” you lace your fingers together, “that you won’t fry my head.” you bring his hand up to your lips, pressing a kiss to his knuckles. “Yeah, but you poached my heart.” He smiles, leaning in to press a kiss to your forehead. “Good luck out there, trouble.” your heart flutters, “Good luck to you too, Freddie.”

#fred weasley #fred weasley fic #fred weasley fluff #fred weasley x reader #fred and george #weasley twins #harry potter #harry potter fic #wild child #au #writing

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createdfromthestars · 3 years

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I’ve never posted my writing before

but my love for Tim Bradford has compelled me to post something! This has not been reviewed or edited by anyone but me! This is from Tim’s point of view and him dealing with Lucy being missing. Questions and comments are welcomed!

Tim Bradford prides himself on keeping a level-head even in the most dire of circumstances. It’s what saved him overseas, and it’s what’s saved him on constant close calls out on patrol. Officer Bradford keeps his head on straight, and the only time it’s ever swiveled was when Isobel was involved. That was, until he heard Detective Armstrong say that Caleb Wright did not exist.

“That’s impossible, I saw his social media page,” he said, with more force than he intended behind his words.

He could barely keep his train of thought together as Armstrong laid out the possibility that the name was nothing more than a cover, a red herring to lead them off his scent. Lucy had been missing for over thirteen hours and the last thing he had said to her was to grab a drink. He could feel the panic rippling under the surface, threatening to engulf him at any point. But he was a seasoned cop, he could keep his nerves at bay until she was found. He allowed West to think out loud with Armstrong as he calmed himself and tucked away any of the horrible thoughts that had started to form inside his mind. Lucy needed him at his best, and that wouldn’t happen if he kept allowing his darker thoughts to be at the forefront of his mind.

~~~~

“We know they left at 9:05…,” Tim shook his head as Sergeant Grey and Armstrong debriefed the precinct about Lucy’s situation.

“Las Torres, a bar, she just wanted to go for a drink,” Tim couldn’t believe that this was his reality. “No,” he threw back at himself, “she wanted to go home. You convinced her that she would be better off out with some guy she had just met!”

A flash from the day before jumped to his mind, of watching a random boy try and hand Lucy his number. His heart had beat loud and deep in his chest, his hand flying out to capture the paper before Lucy even had a chance to reach for it. It had been a long time since he felt jealous, but he quickly beat back the green-eyed monster by simply defending his actions while accosting the boy about his job. But now that jealousy had been replaced by another, disgust. In himself. Because he tried to cover up his moment of resentment by suggesting she go for drinks with someone. And who else but the guy who acted like he knew everything about police work from the two episodes of Law & Order he probably watched.

“We believe that Caleb is Rosalind’s protege, and he took Officer Chen,” Grey stated in a grave voice.

Tim could feel his breath catch in his chest. “Took, took, took,” it repeated over and over in his head. He felt sick to his stomach, his head felt like it weighed a thousand pounds, anchored down by the hundreds of possibilities of where Lucy could be in that very moment. She was in the hands of a groomed killer, and the trail of bodies behind both him and his teacher were staring Tim straight in the face. All the kills were textbook, identical to each other in the way each of the victims had been killed. Tim could see exactly how Lucy was in this very hour, most likely already tattooed with today’s date, fighting off whatever drug was still in her system. His head swung forward, unable to even look at the board or the video of this disgusting man with his arms around Lucy, like he had every right in the world to be near her. He couldn’t focus on anything, not the words that Grey was saying or even his own thoughts. It was like his mind was the frayed end of a string, sprouting off in so many different directions. He didn’t say anything as he pulled out his phone and walked out, not even bothering to see if anyone noticed his sudden exit.

“Angela,” he thought, the only thing keeping him grounded, the only lifeline he could see in this mess of his world. His friend, probably his best friend, and her detective skills could help him with this puzzle. He needed her to be able to see a solution, because he was starting to feel the walls close in. There was a darkness that was shadowing his ever move, a darkness he thought he had escaped from when Isabel left. He dialed her number, praying to whoever that she would pick up.

“What’s up,” she answered after the second ring.

“Hey. Lucy’s been taken. I need you,” he said through a clenched jaw.

Saying the words aloud felt like a jinx, like if he never said those words, there was still a chance she could run through the doors and blame unbelievable traffic for her lateness. His breathing was shallower than it had been minutes ago, and it seemed like hours before Angela responded with a simple “On my way.” He didn’t know how to thank her.

~~~~~

He walked back into the bullpen as Jackson West stated “So we have less than 10 hours to find Lucy.”

“Holy shit,” Tim couldn’t keep up. They were talking in such a clinical manner that Tim could scream.

“This isn’t any other case,” he wanted to yell, “this is one of our own! This is an officer, my rookie!”

“My responsibility, Lucy…” he was spiraling. How could he have suggested a date with someone from a bar! He should’ve asked more questions while he was here, should’ve sensed that there was something wrong with him. He drilled into every one of his boots that they always needed to trust their instincts and gut. Yet, he couldn’t even see the potential murderer standing less than 10 feet away from him.

“You suggested the date, you pushed her to go out with him,” his inner thoughts were relentlessly reminding him, “if she doesn’t come back, this is on you.” He couldn’t swallow, the fear and confusion sitting on his chest. And anger, a rage was building up like none he’d felt before. But what he couldn’t figure out was who he was more angry with: Caleb or himself.

~~~~~~

“Useless,” he thought, slamming down the phone on another raving citizen who claimed they saw Lucy being dragged into a car by none other than King Henry. He had never wanted to punch a citizen so bad before. He looked up just as Angela and Wesley walked in. He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.

“Hey, thanks for coming in,” he said to Angela as he pushed back from the desk.

“Of course,” she answered, looking around at the current situation of the precinct. “Grey’s got you on tip lines,” she questioned, the disbelief evident in her tone.

“Nothing says ‘We got squat,’ like listening to the public,” he threw back, letting his irritation seep through. He knew that Angela would pick up on just how fed up he was with the whole situation. As Wesley took up his position at the phones, Tim turned to Angela and angrily said “This is useless. We should be on the street kicking down doors.” He just needed to move, to feel like he was doing something, anything, to try and get one step closer to finding Lucy.

“Who’s doors,” Angela questioned lightly.

He looked at her and quickly looked away. He saw sympathy and hopelessness in her eyes, and it was more than he could handle. The reality that Lucy was abducted by a man with two murders under his belt was pushing its way into every corner of his mind.

“I don’t know but I-I just can’t sit here,” he whispered. Suddenly the room felt too small, the lights too bright, the noises too loud. He turned around and stomped off towards the bull pen. He could feel the string unraveling even farther. He knew he couldn’t be in the middle of the room, with all the useless noise of the public.

“Wait up,” Angela called from behind him.

“I’m fine, just blowing off steam,” he didn’t even bother looking at her, he knew she’d hear him. His legs seemed to be on autopilot, he didn’t even know where he was heading.

“I get it,” she threw at him, “but you’ve got to get your head in the game.

Tim rolled his eyes to the ceiling, thinking that maybe he made a mistake in calling her in. He turned to look at her, his eyes narrowed slightly “I don’t need a pep talk.”

“Then why’d you call me? Clearly you need to get something off your chest,” Angela’s voice was rough, but filled with concern.

Tim looked around, his thoughts moving a mile a minute. This is why he called her, because Angela would make him face facts he wasn't comfortable admitting to anyone. Not even himself. He looked away from her, trying to organise his thoughts for a moment, ignoring the ever constant “your fault, your fault,” that had been rattling around his brain all day.

“Look, she-she wanted to go home,” he said to her, his voice cracking ever so slightly. His throat tightened, making it harder to speak “Go to bed. I told her that she should focus on something else.”

As the words came spilling out of him, he could feel a stinging in his eyes, and his hands couldn’t seem to stop moving. He felt his lip tremble and tried to swallow the shame and guilt that he could taste in his mouth. But it was no use.

“She went out with Caleb because I told her to,” the blame evident in every word he spoke. He searched Angela’s face, dreading that after she heard the part he played in Lucy’s abduction that she would agree with his inner voices. And he wouldn’t even blame her because he even agreed with them. He was to blame. But instead, tears welled up in her eyes and she shook her head.

“You couldn’t have known,” she spoke with a tender conviction.

Her faith in him, as a cop and a person, pushed him even farther to the edge. He couldn’t understand it, because he no longer could see it, the darkness creeping closer, threatening to drown him in despair.

“But I should've, I'm a cop,” he emphasized, moving closer to her. He brought his hand up, “I was standing this close to the guy. Ok, right across from him and I never saw him coming.”

The words caught in Tim’s mouth for a second, he couldn’t figure out why he needed to prove to Angela that he was to blame. Maybe it was for the fact that the real person to blame was nowhere to be found, and he himself made for a close and convenient punching bag. His eyes didn’t leave hers, and he could feel them pleading with her to give him something, anything, reassuring. She merely stared at him and let him continue his thoughts.

“But she did though, she-” he looked away, remembering Lucy’s face when she questioned his advice. She seemed confused by his suggestion of a drink over a nap, and he should’ve recognized that she was more excited for her bed than the company of another.

“Some part of her didn’t feel right about this whole thing,” his eyes found Angela’s once more. As he talked and recalled Lucy from the night before, things began sliding into place in his mind.

He shook his head slightly and said, “She hesitated.”

He wouldn’t be persuaded, he had made camp in his thoughts, knowing he was to shoulder the blame forever. Because Lucy knew, her instincts had told her something was off, he was the one who couldn’t sense anything. Tim had allowed a quick flash of jealousy to blind him to the actual threat of Caleb Wright.

“And I-” his voice held little emotion as he came to the realization that he could never be forgiven, “-I pushed her right at him.”

#the rookie #tim bradford #lucy chen #chenford #tucy #Jackson West #angela lopez #personal #my fic

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everybodyscupoftea · 4 years

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don’t forget gloves

jj x unc women’s soccer reader

jj agrees to a pickup game during winter break

(warnings: cursing, severe lack of editing)

JJ agreed, a little to your surprise, to come play in a pickup game with you and some of your teammates and their partners. You knew he typically didn’t like doing stuff like that because he wasn’t the most knowledgeable about soccer, but since hit had been over a year, you guessed he felt confident enough in his abilities.

“Babe,” he held his hand up when you made a surprised noise, “I’ve been practicing for months now.”

You raised your eyebrows in amusement, “Sure thing. It’s later this afternoon, but I’m gonna go early and stretch if you want to come.”

“Do I have time to take a nap?”

Humming, you glanced at your watch, “Sure. I’ll come pick you up in an hour and a half.”

“You don’t want to stay?”

“Not if you’re sleeping, I’ll just go home and watch some TV.”

JJ shrugged and handed you your keys, “Suit yourself.”

You ended up walking home and jogging back to JJ’s apartment as a sort of warmup. The sun was getting low, would probably start setting in the next hour, and you didn’t want to get hurt. You texted him and within a few minutes, he was opening the passenger door and climbing in.

“Hey, how was the nap?” you asked, turning the heat up a little.

JJ looked at you suspiciously, “Did you just run here?”

“Maybe.”

He snorted, “You baffle me sometimes. The nap was great, feeling rested and ready to kick some ass.”

“Glad to hear,” you answered, backing out of your spot to head to the practice field.

When you got there, JJ helped you drag the goals into place, and you helped him stretch out. After tying his shoe, he stood up, “Who all is coming?”

“Not too many people, a couple teammates and some significant others.”

He nodded, “What time?”

“Ten minutes.”

“Will you pass with me a little bit?”

“Sure.”

He moved back about ten feet, and the two of you knocked it back and forth steadily and in silence. You were actually really impressed at how much he’d improved, even when you hit one at him more firmly than you intended.

Grinning, he passed it back easily, “I’ve been using a wall at my complex. This is so easy compared.”

Which reminded you of when you were younger, using the wall as a passer to work on control and staying on your toes to move quicker. You nodded, “The wall is a great way to build skill.”

“I read it online,” he admitted, “there was one week that I walked around my house with a soccer ball at my feet at all times, but my roommate got annoyed so I quit.”

Yet another thing you’d done as a child, and you raised your eyebrows, “My parents got annoyed when I did that as a kid too.”

He laughed, “Even your dad?”

“Especially my dad. He was all for improving until he tripped over it carrying food.”

“Oh no.”

“Oh yes, Thanksgiving food to be exact. Thankfully it wasn’t the turkey, but we had no dressing that year.”

“Damn,” he whistled lowly as a car pulled in and parked next to yours. A few of your teammates that carpooled climbed out, one of them carrying a bag full of pennies she’d grabbed from the locker room.

A few of them spread out to kick around while a few of you waited to the side.

“Girls versus boys?” your teammate, Alexis, asked.

You shook your head, “Nah, I think Payton is bringing her girlfriend so it’d be uneven.”

“Wait have we met Payton’s girlfriend before?”

“Not this one,” you mused, “I think the one we met during the season broke up with her.”

“Oh shit,” Alexis muttered, “you know why?”

“Traveling killed her. She wanted weekends together that Pay just didn’t have during the season.”

Alexis sighed, “That fucking sucks.”

“Yeah, but this girl, Emma, plays volleyball, so she gets it.”

“How do you know?”

“I talk to her regularly,” you answered, amused.

“You’ve met Emma?”

“Only on FaceTime. I think she’s pretty nervous to meet us.”

Alexis smirked, “Good.”

Mack was the next to join the group, dragging her boyfriend behind her with a grin, “Can’t believe we’re all matching!”

You glanced down, all three of you wearing the same hoodie and shorts combo, “Wow, so cute,” you deadpanned.

She reached forward to flick your nose, “Fuck off, give our brains some credit.”

“Our brains,” Alexis snorted, “we just share a single fucking braincell.”

Payton was the last to show up, sitting in the car a few seconds after turning it off, talking to the girl in the passenger seat.

“Think she’s giving a pep talk?” Mack mused, holding a ball she’d been juggling against her hip.

“Probably.”

The other two girls joined the group a few minutes later, and Alexis started handing out pennies to assign teams. You and JJ ended up on the same team, and he looked relieved. You held your fist out to him to bump, and when he did, you told him, “Partner in crime, we got this.”

And when JJ slid across the ground to tap the ball in off your pass, you yelled, jumping into his arms in excitement.

The game finally ended at 8:00 when the practice field lights automatically shut off. Mack suggested everyone turning their brights on to shine over the field, but it was getting obnoxiously cold, and had been raining for a good 40 minutes, so most of you bowed out.

“You only want to keep going because you’re losing,” Payton yelled from across the field.

JJ had his hands on his hips, one of the only ones smart enough to wear gloves. His cheeks were bright pink, and you smiled at him, “Great game.”

“You too, obviously.”

“Weee are the champions, my friends,” Alexis crooned, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

You snorted and Mack flipped her off, “Fuck off, it was just for fun anyway.”

Payton smirked, “Would you be saying that if you won?”

Before Mack could say anything, her boyfriend grabbed her elbow, “Alright, babe, let’s go.”

“You’re lucky,” she called over her shoulder.

JJ laughed and picked up both of your bags on the sideline. You laced your fingers together, walking next to him, trying to regain feeling back in them. When you got to the car, JJ tugged on the door handle until you managed to unlock it.

You sighed, and tried to crank up the car, but you couldn’t get your fingers to cooperate, too frozen and stiff to wrap fully around the keys.

JJ spoke, not looking at you, “Damn, I took that one to the thigh, never been more grateful to be wearing leggings.” Then he seemed to realize the car was still cold and still off, “You good?”

“I can’t get it.”

He’d pulled his gloves off, and he reached over with his hands to grab yours, almost jerking away when they made contact, “Fuck, your hands are freezing. Why no gloves?”

“Forgot.”

Shaking his head, fondly, JJ asked, “Want me to drive home. Let your fingers defrost.”

“That’d be great,” you answered, relieved.

JJ leaned across the console to press a kiss to your forehead before opening the door and getting out quickly. Instead of getting out, you slid across to the passenger seat in maybe the most ungraceful way.

He got into the driver's seat, cranked up the car, and pulled out of the parking lot all within a few seconds while you held your fingers up to the heat blowing out of the vents.

When the two of you got to his apartment, you glanced over at the counter where your discarded gloves were sitting.

Smiling wryly, you told him, “Won’t be forgetting those again.”

“Bet not,” he laughed.

“Wish we had a fireplace,” you sighed, moving toward the bathroom to get your wet clothes off.

A few seconds later, JJ called out, “I can light a bunch of candles for you instead.”

day 12 of @obxmermaid‘s holiday challenge: your hands are freezing

#jj maybank #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank x you #jj maybank fic #college jj #outer banks #outer banks fic #obxmermaidholiday

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sarah-bae-maas · 5 years

Text

Rowaelin AU! chapter four

AU! where the valg wars never happened, but Rowan and Aelin still stumble upon each other anyway

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Ao3 Masterlist

***

Aelin could feel every muscle in her body as she lay in bed groaning. She couldn’t even appreciate the books tempting her on her nightstand, she was too sore to pick them up and hold the behemoth hardbacks. She thought after over a fortnight of non-stop training her body would be more accustomed now, especially since she was quite fit even before she started her training with Rowan. She had spent half her life with the best soldiers her parents could offer her, but they were nothing compared to this. She genuinely didn’t know how she was going to get out of bed to meet Rowan.

“Good morning,” Elide chirped as she strode in Aelin’s room, slamming the large doors behind her. Elide lived in the next room over, and like Aelin, her room was more of a self-sustained apartment than anything else. Both had their beds, sure, but also bathrooms, kitchenettes, and sitting rooms. They wouldn’t have to leave their rooms at all if they didn’t desire it.

“It is not a good morning.”

“Hush. Rowan sent this with me when I went for my morning rounds.” Elide threw a piece of paper at her before going to her drawers, pulling Aelin out an outfit for the day.

Edge of the forest. Noon.

Succinct and to the point, exactly what she’d always come to expect from him. If they were moving, maybe now he would let her use her flames. But if he was so confident in his ability to stifle her, she didn’t know why he needed to go all the way there to do it.

“How have you been, Elide? Dorian sent his regards as he left.” A knot formed in Aelin’s stomach when she thought of how she’d neglected Elide’s feelings of late.

“I had a very scandalous dream about Ren last night. But I think it’s just because I’m craving attention.”

“You could have any man you wanted.”

“And I’ve wanted many, but I want to wait for one that wants me.” Elide tossed Aelin’s clothes at her then lay down on the unoccupied side of the bed, sighing.

Aelin patted her on the arm, gritting her teeth as she got up and changed. “You can have Rowan.”

“He is rather dashing.”

“And a fantastic lover.”

“Hm, but I really don’t want my best friend’s sloppy seconds.”

“Elide!”

“I’m joking, of course.”

“Perhaps Lorcan will take your eye and give you the night you deserve.”

Elide smiled, winking at Aelin. “I’m working on it.”

____

Rowan hadn’t originally planned to start Aelin with her fire today, but he wanted to get away from Lorcan. How Lorcan had the audacity to call Rowan moody after how he behaved last night, Rowan would never know. His plan was foiled when the Bastard of Doranelle had joined him fifteen minutes before Aelin was expected to show.

Rowan grunted in his direction but didn’t offer any real words. He was too focused on when Aelin might come to offer him any attention. He was moving any kindling from the immediate area, creating a makeshift clearing for them. He wanted to be nice and far away from any other people when they started testing her fire, and the trees were so close that the past autumn’s leaves had left a thick layer of debris on the ground.

“What’s the plan?” Lorcan asked, picking at his teeth and not helping at all.

“I’ll train her like we do the children. She’s learnt bad habits from her previous tutors, she’ll need to start afresh. You’ll need to leave.”

“I thought I could observe today.”

“You thought wrong. Piss off.”

Lorcan grunted, flicking something he’d recovered from his teeth at Rowan. Rowan balked at him, giving him a what the fucklook.

“I’m sorry I annoyed you last night, or whatever,” Lorcan said.

“Annoyed me? Annoyed me?You’ve been stealing my shit, including the royal seal my parents left me. My clothes? It hasn’t been the poor laundress that misplaced them, you just got your grubby hands on them first. Or what about the weapons my cousin had made for me? Suddenly adorned on you like you use them regularly. If you miss the finery of the homeland so much why don’t you just go back, I don’t need you here.”

“Saying you don’t need me is like saying fish don’t need water.”

“Lorcan, I will kill-”

“I’ve had them for a good reason.”

“Doubtful.”

“Can you please just let me explain?” Lorcan ran his hands over his face, and Rowan dropped the pile he was holding so he could cross his arms and stare Lorcan down.

“Go on then.”

“You’ve met Elide, yes? I know she thinks highly of you, because you weren’t a bumbling buffoon when you met her like I was. I was following her, like a complete idiot, and scared her so much she ran into a wall. She’s a lady – a verifiable lady and I’m just the male who made her slam herself into a building. When we started speaking, I panicked and told her I was a royal. I was wearing your clothes because I’d run out of mine – okay yes I stole them – and suddenly I became this whole other person.”

“That makes… no sense. Why would you be following Elide through her morning market dash. Why then lie about who you are?”

“Because she is impeccable. And I’m not good enough to be her mate.”

___

As Aelin approached the training yard, which was a very loose descriptor from the looks of it, in her fae form, she could just pick up on Rowan and Lorcan talking in hushed voices. Rowan was close to Lorcan, his hands on his shoulders, and Lorcan’s head was bowed. Rowan seemed to be giving him some sort of pep-talk, but Aelin didn’t know what.

Their heads snapped in her direction when they heard her approaching, and all their words stopped. Rowan turned away from her, and Lorcan gave her a polite smile before leaving.

“What was that about?” she asked, watching Lorcan’s retreating figure.

“None of your business. Stand over there.”

“A please wouldn’t go astray.”

He deflected her words, starting her with physical excises to help limber up her body. Aelin started to question the location change, wondering if Rowan just wanted to punish her where no one could hear her screams.

The air was brisk, a cold breeze throbbing around them, but Aelin was grateful for its presence. She could feel herself getting hot, not just from working with Rowan but also because her magic was trying to bubble to the surface. It could feel his doing the same, and Aelin knew he wouldn’t let himself build like this if her magic wouldn’t play some role in how today went. After nearly two hours, she had her answer.

“Show me what you can do,” Rowan said.

Aelin stood in front of him, trying to get her flames to show themselves, beads of sweat starting to drip down her brow as she did. Rowan was looking at her expectantly, like he thought something should have happened by now. Aelin closed her eyes, forgetting he was there, forgetting everything was. Why was it that she could barely summon her flames when she wanted them, but if she tried to dissipate them they rampaged from her?

She inhaled and exhaled, visualising the fire breaking from her skin and spreading onto the earth, like blood from a cut. It was there, she could feel it. It was like her blood was boiling, the bubbles of her magic so close to spilling over but not quite there yet. She pushed harder, ringing in her ears starting to block everything out. She thought she could vaguely hear someone calling her name.

Her toes, hips, shoulders, ears, they were running through her like the current of a river rushing towards the mouth of the ocean.

Princess Aelin.

Faster, harder, the bubbling waters were trying to find a way out.

Stop.

Soon, soon they would be free. She buckled down, when they were out, she could show Rowan why they feared her, and then he could set her free.

She felt a hand belt her face, and her eyes sprang open.

“Aelin, stop this!”

Rowan was shaking her, but it was too late.

She spewed out the flames, red and blue fire leaping from her whole body and pushing outward. Grass turned to ash, the trees went up like blazing lights, flames licking up their sides and into the sky. Her body was a portrait of heat, the flames licking her like she was their most scandalous lover.

And when the world was red, her wildfire loose and uncontrolled, it suddenly stopped.

It was like a candle going out. The light was there, and then in a split second it was gone.

Aelin could hear her heart breathing, felt every breath she took. Her vision focused, and she surveyed the damage around her. Everything within thirty metres of her was destroyed, black and charred, some trees reduced to nothing but ash. The sky was dark, so much smoke and soot in the air that it was hard to tell that it was the afternoon, it looked like the sun was setting she was so blocked from its rays.

And Rowan – Rowan.

He was cradling his hands to his chest, his face contorted with pain. He was biting his lip so hard it was bleeding, and Aelin had never heard the noises he was making before. His hands were – oh Gods, what had she done.

“I’m – Rowan, I’m so sorry,” she rushed to him, and he took a step back from her, his eyes wide and glassy. She could feel his wrath emanating from him – wrath mixed with agony. Worst of all, she could smell his injuries – like burnt meat.

“The fires, did I put them all out?” he spat, his mouth barely able to open when he spoke. The veins on his neck were popping from his pain, and his chest was heaving.

“Yes – how – I’m sorry.” She went to him again, and this time he didn’t flinch from her. She felt her eyes sting and didn’t bother wiping away the tears that seldom fell. Guilt ripped through her like her flames did the forest, and in that moment she knew she still had a little of her magic left. “I can fix it, please let me fix this.”

She tenderly grabbed his hands, and she could tell her was holding back howls of pain. He didn’t fight her as she beheld the injuries she inflicted, and didn’t question her when she held his hands to her face. With everything she had, she summoned the drops of water magic she’d been gifted and sent it all into him. Into his hands. Into his pain. She closed her eyes, and when she opened them, his skin was perfect, bare of any scars or tattoos or remnants of the flames.

Wholly new.

“How did you do that?” he whispered, looking between his hands and her.

“It’s not all destructive,” she said back, her voice even lower than his.

“You are…”

She waited for him to chew her out, to throw in the towel like all those who came before him.

“Exquisite.”

She nearly choked.

He was now gazing at his hands in wonder, and not just that, but also the charred earth. It wasn’t until now that she realised how much she’d truly destroyed, and how much he’d saved in the second she’d exploded.

He was right when he said that he could obliterate her.

“How did you save my hands?”

“I – it’s from my water. I wish I had as much of it as I did my fire.”

He slid his hands from away from hers, and she thought he was going to leave. Instead, he cradled her face in his, turning it to meet his own. “Don’t you dare feel shame at what you can do. You are magnificent. This – this is magnificent.”

“I destroy everything I touch.” Her voice broke at the truth.

“And that is the fault of everyone that has come before you and tried to stifle what’s inside you.”

He swallowed, his lips parting. She moved into him, pressing her body flush against his, one of his hands moving to her hair. He angled his face down, pressing his forehead against hers. Her name was on his lips, and she was shaking. She could feel every press of the wind on her skin now, everything drained from her body.

They stood like that until they heard the hooves of the horses riding towards them, the shouts of their names as people feared she had killed them both. Rowan stepped away, and she heard her father’s voice join the herd.

Before they could hear him, he said one last thing to her. “Aelin, I’m not going anywhere.”

#rowaelin #elorcan #tog #koa #throne of glass #fanfic #sjm

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ohwereusingourmadeupnames · 4 years

Text

Dizzy On the Comedown

Pairing: Peter Parker/Tony Stark Rating: Explicit Warnings: blood, mild violence Summary:

What if Tony Stark didn't become Iron Man in the bowels of the desert? Instead, the hero is created in the comfort of Tony's own home.

A presentation at NYU has Tony critically injured. Peter Parker, NYC's Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man, with the help of Jarvis, saves him. The two foster an easy partnership to give birth to the Iron Man suit and take on SI's biggest threat - Obadiah Stane.

Read it here on AO3

“Tony! We’re going to be late again, and Pepper is going to have my ass.”

The sound of Happy Hogan’s voice radiated around the house, all of the glass walls seemingly absorbing the noise, making it echo. Tony shook his head and kept his hands tight around the controller in his hands – he’d been on the cusp of a breakthrough for the past half an hour. His hands were too big to reconstruct the piece himself, so he’d been working with Dum-E’s interactive setting, the robot’s abilities were few and far between, despite being almost twenty years old. He finally got one of the clasps around the lug nut, a triumphant smile on his face when all of the sudden, the door to his lab was slammed open. His thumb moved a miniscule amount and dropped the piece –concentration completely shot now that he’d have to fuck around with it for another half an hour to get back to where he’d been. Brown eyes were angry when they looked up, Happy’s shit eating grin making him fume even more. “I was so fucking close, Hap! What the fuck are we late for, anyway? I thought I didn’t have anything until the NYU speech,” Tony spoke while he walked around the tech in front of him, eyes critical.

“This is the NYU speech, sir,” Happy responded calmly, that grin still settled firmly across his lips. Tony remembered when Happy would stutter around him, the bigger man nervous to be working with him, nervous to be placed in such a high-powered job only a few weeks of being a part of the Stark Industries team. When he stepped in front of an errant punch aimed for one Tony Stark – the promotion shouldn’t have been surprising. That was years ago, though – Happy grew out of the nervousness and could handle Tony better than anyone else. Well, aside from Pepper, but was a force of nature on her own.

“Is that right? Must mean it’s Wednesday.” Tony shook his head, his eyes roaming back to the piece of tech in front of him. He’d been trying to successfully update the innerworkings of this weapon line since Monday morning. All of his work seemed to be for nothing – there’d been very little progress made. He quickly wiped his hands on one of the grease towels lying about, his head in a billion different directions. Now that his focus was shifting, Tony tried to recall what he’d been told to talk about in front of all of NYU’s engineering students – his latest weapon off the table since it wasn’t even close to being finished. Turning to Happy, Tony motioned over his shoulder. “You ready to go? I have this thing, right?” He chuckled at the head shake he got back from Happy, the man striding forward until he could reach out, his thumb brushing against the middle of Tony’s forehead. “Take a shower, hot shot. You’ve got grease all over your face.” He pulled his hand away to show the black fluid on his finger. “I’m leaving your ass in ten, Stark.”

With a one fingered gesture over his shoulder, Tony took off up the stairs and down the hall. He’d make Happy wait 11 minutes just to see what the other man would do. Stripping off his clothes, Tony made quick work of the shower, his own personally made soap doing wonders for the grease stains all over his face, hands, and arms. It’d probably been longer than 24 hours since the last time he’d taken a shower – the water felt almost too good running down the lengths of his skin. A part of him wanted to wrap a hand around himself and stroke off to let off a little steam – but the thought of Happy Hogan banging on his door effectively reduced anything that was trying to rise – and the shower was over. A quick perusal of his wardrobe had Tony settling on a jet-black Armani suit with Stark Industry cuff links to finish off the look. To the media, he was rich kid Tony Stark – they expected him to look good.

12 minutes later found Tony slipping into the front seat of his Audi – Happy rolling his eyes at him, the man tapping on his watch. “Pepper is going to kill me, Tony. Me!” Tony shrugged his shoulders and pulled the door closed before Happy could think to do it. “That’s what you get for dating the mastermind behind us all.” He started the car up and sped away then, his hand waving facetiously out the window. Even with this head start, he knew the man would more than likely catch up to him. Happy was a New York native and could remember road maps and short cuts the same way Tony could piece together an entire engine in his head without looking at a singular blueprint or plan once. This cat and mouse game he liked to play with all the people around him gave him joy, no matter how big of an ass it made him seem like.

Like he figured, Tony pulled in right around the same time as Happy – the man’s grin apparent for a moment before he got himself together and got out of the car to meet Tony around the front of his own vehicle. “Almost got you there, Hap,” Tony said, a friendly punch reaching the bigger man’s shoulder. “Almost. It’ll happen for you one day, boss.” Tony clapped his hands and grinned – today was going to be a good day if the banter was starting off this good. He still hadn’t thought much about what he’d say to the group of impressionable young people – Pepper more than likely already wrote a riveting speech, anyway. It never made sense, coming to things like this – he didn’t have a normal college experience. Tony flew through all of the courses at MIT. For the most part, he probably could have taught them himself. Whatever came out of his mouth today – it wouldn’t be relevant for any of these kids. There weren’t many intellectuals that could keep up with him, and if they could, they weren’t standing out in the crowd looking up at him.

Walking carelessly into the building, Tony noticed a huge collection of people gathered together at the front – a whole mass of humans were holding up signs and yelling, though he couldn’t hear what they were saying. It was normal for protestors to show up wherever he was. Being a figurehead in the weapons industry didn’t do him any favors with the people that were dead set against what his company did. They didn’t usually show up to little things like a college campus speech, though – but he knew things were escalating. Things at home and things in places that most people didn’t even know existed. He stood in the hallway for a few minutes and watched – his eyes took in all the people, all the signs slandering his name – his entire life’s work.

They always said publicity was good for business – even if it was the shitty kind.

Happy’s hand wrapping around his shoulder pulled him back, the massive crowd a little hypnotizing after staring at it for so long. “This way, boss. Nothing to see over there.” Tony snorted out a laugh, his body moving out of the captivity of the bigger man’s arm effortlessly. Their steps were the only thing he could hear until they got to the entrance to one of the bigger auditoriums on campus – the doors were open, and the entire room was packed. Between the media and all of the engineering department board members, Tony was surprised there was room for students – all the young faces in the crowd intriguing him. He stood outside the door for another couple of minutes, his eyes roving over the crowd to get a bearing on the amount of people he’d have to win over. The sound of Pepper’s voice introducing him echoed in his ears and when she said his name, he stepped out and walked between the rows of chairs. Tony Stark always made an entrance and today wasn’t any different.

The claps around him were overwhelming for a moment, the sound of it the same as the thumping beat of his heart in his ears – his body’s fight or flight reflex working overtime to decide the next course of action. By the time he made it to the steps that lead to the stage, Tony was in his element – the lock on his control finally done up and clicked closed – the key stuffed into the depths of his pocket where it couldn’t be reached until much, much later. “The great Pepper Potts, everyone,” Tony said into the microphone, his hands clapping as he turned to look at her. She flashed a smile, the woman always prepared for the click of cameras that went off whenever Tony was around. He could see irritation in her eyes, though – his tardiness something she’d never been able to tame, something that always pissed her off whenever it happened – and with Tony Stark, that was always.

Squaring back up to the podium, Tony took a brief glance at the notes waiting there for him. Arc reactor technology? Stark Industries hadn’t thought about that piece of tech since they incorporated it into the building’s energy system – the move done strictly to appease the city. Of all the things they could have asked him to talk about. He shrugged his shoulders and took in a deep breath – his brain already going through what he knew about the damn thing, bringing all the important points to the front where he’d be able to access them. “Arc reactor tech – “ his words were interrupted by a loud bang, the entire building shaking. Tony took a step back from the podium, the man trying to get his balance – brown eyes everywhere, seeking out the exits, looking for Happy and Pep. There wasn’t any time, though – the next bang went off and this time, pieces of the building were staring to fall. Taking a step, Tony was surprised by the next loud noise, this one was directly in the room – all the glass was blown out of the room’s windows, the big white pillars that were so beautifully added to the architecture tumbling to the ground.

He took another couple of steps, the dust from the building collapsing made it very hard to see. The whole situation didn’t make any sense until he was in a clear spot of the room, no dust or rubble there yet – when he looked down, he saw the Stark Industries logo on the explosive that hadn’t detonated yet. His first thought was to run towards it – disable the fucking thing before it could take another piece of the building. Then, his next thought was ‘oh fuck’ – the weapon went off before he could make a decision or move his body any further. When he hit the deck, he felt a searing pain in his chest, a fire consuming him in a way he’d never felt before. He reached down to check, wondering what in the fuck was happening – and the sight of blood staining his fingers had him screaming, the panic only adding to the searing pain.

Before losing consciousness completely, Tony noticed a few figures starting to crowd around him. The blur in his vision made it hard to see clearly, it looked like five of them in one second and the next, there were ten – each person two headed, their words sounding more like echoes than actual consonants and vowels. Blinking, Tony tried to fight the blackness – his sense of self-preservation kicking in, the man not wanting to be a part of anything the quickly multiplying group of people wanted from him. His chest was on fire – the overwhelming way he felt like being consumed by searing heat far more distracting than the men surrounding him, no matter how scared he felt.

Then, a swirl of blue and red flashed in his vision – a spider emblem was the last thing he saw before blackness overtook him.

----

Peter couldn’t believe how many people were standing at the door waiting to get into Rosenthal Pavilion. Earlier in the week when he’d seen the advertisements for Tony Stark’s speech on arc reactor technology, Peter inwardly freaked out. Ever since researching that specific piece of tech for his senior research project, he’d been a little bit obsessed with it. Not just the tech, of course. The now 21-year-old could remember a day when the mere mention of Tony Stark could get him off. Being a nerdy kid with a head full of ideas and thoughts no one else really understood, a person like Tony Stark was like a mecca. The man was not only gorgeous as fucking sin, he was smart – he developed a weapon monopoly in the few years of having complete control over Stark Industries. That didn’t come from being the only person making weapons, either. Tony Stark was the best in the business – his mind unparalleled. For Peter, the thought of someone bringing themselves success with just their brain was a great selling point.

Of course, all of his thoughts of personal inadequacies were long before being bitten by a radioactive spider. The things that little mishap brought Peter relinquished any negative thoughts he ever allowed himself about his abilities. Now, they were something he could use for good. He could keep people in his hometown safe – even if that meant soaring around the city in a silly onesie with a big spider emblem on his chest. Over the past few years of his servitude, the public took to calling him Spider-Man – the name had a good ring to it, so he never fought against it. The YouTube videos he saw on the internet were always flattering and didn’t come close to fucking with his secret identity. For the most part, saving the day by night and acing college during the day was working out pretty well.

Now, he could honestly say his biggest interest in Tony Stark came from all of the amazing technology he continued to develop – and all of his previous pieces, too. The arc reactor had so much potential. If they could neutralize the toxic effect of palladium, there’d be so many uses – so many things that could instantly be possible. It didn’t matter how long he needed to stand in line, Peter wanted to hear more about the technology, more from the very person whose brilliant mind created the original design. Peter stood in the massive clump of people for a few more minutes – then suddenly realized the crowd he was in hadn’t gathered to gain entrance into the auditorium.

The fourth set of people tipped him off, the entire group looking towards where he stood with a mixture of fear and disdain. Taking a couple steps back, the anti-SI posters were everywhere – the entire crowd was waving something with derogatory terms or threats. The people looked mad, too. Almost like the ravenous hyenas surrounding Simba in the elephant graveyard. Sucking in a breath, Peter forced his feet to move, the suddenness of his senses being overwhelmed almost knocking him to his knees. He managed to get away from the crowd without freaking out – his spidey senses were tingling all over the place, the feeling now familiar as an ache in his joints – today, his knee specifically.

On alert now, Peter entered the building, his eyes scanning everywhere he could without standing out. The ache in his knee throbbed the closer he got to the doors of the auditorium. The entire thing was surrounded by glass windows making the space look bigger – the wanted aesthetic was obviously achieved, though Peter doubted the effectiveness of its acoustics as a lecture hall. He took an open seat towards the back of the room and continued to scan the place. There was something coming, something he could feel in the deep part of his bones – if only he knew how, or when, or where it’d be coming from. A few minutes passed without Peter noticing much of anything, the room was starting to fill up and the ease of staring was no longer there.

Glancing at his watch, Peter grimaced a bit – the talk was supposed to start any minute now, the tension of the crowd was starting to feel palpable. People were looking over their shoulders to catch a glimpse of the door – the rumored about theatrics of one Tony Stark obviously yearned for by the crowd. Or maybe they were just irritated and tired of waiting – Peter couldn’t decide which side of the line he fell on, either. As the minutes passed, the ache in his knee started to travel down into his ankle – the throb distracting and hard to deal with. His skin started to prickle, too – his entire body alert, waiting, waiting – waiting for what, he still wasn’t sure.

When the man of the hour finally strolled in, Peter couldn’t help the smile that spread on his face – even if the man made people wait for more than ten minutes, he was still damn fine and smoother than butter. The suit he wore looked amazing, the black of the fabric making the pale skin on his face and hands stand out. The perfectly manicured facial hair would’ve made Peter laugh if it didn’t look as good as it did. Evidently, the 18-year-old in Peter still wasn’t over the way Tony Stark could work a crowd, or the look on his face when met with applause. So, maybe the crush hadn’t faded so much as evolved – grown with him as he matured and figured out his way in life, his likes and dislikes. He felt glad for once he’d listened to his instincts – the mere vision of him was worth it.

The thought went right out the window no less than a minute later. The first boom came from the front of the building – Peter’s body turning towards it on instinct. He watched the front of the room become no more, than a second later turned to watch the left side of the space start to smoke. Reacting quickly, Peter jumped out of his seat and started to usher people out of the row. Smoke was starting to collect in the room making it hard to see – luckily, his eyes were much better than others. He got as many people out as he could before running into the smoke – his hands making fast work of his t-shirt and jeans, the instinct to wear the suit earlier something he felt glad for now. Slamming the mask over his face, Peter secured the web shooters to his wrist and shot the fluid towards the ceiling. He used his momentum to swing over to the stage, his eyes trained on Tony Stark.

Peter could barely make him out, his eyes finally finding him a couple feet down the first row. He watched as the man made his way towards the exit disoriented and when he stopped, Peter wanted to shout. He moved to stick a web on the beam right by Tony’s head, but didn’t get that far. A blinking red light and the slight hissing sound caught his attention. It seemed that Tony saw the explosive right around the same time. A sound left his throat when the explosive detonated, Peter helplessly watching from his spot at the back of the room as the great Tony Stark flew back, raised a hand in front of his face, and let out a gruff noise. The man was on the ground the next time Peter could see through the lingering blast of smoke. Surprisingly, there were several people starting to surround them, each one wearing a gas mask – their faces completely hidden. Whatever the fuck was going on, Peter knew he needed to get Tony Stark out of there – right that second.

He couldn’t say what compelled him to swing down and grab the man. The blast put him down on the ground, Peter figured if he didn’t get him out of there – Tony would either die on the carpet bleeding out or in the hands of people that did not mean him any good. Gathering him in his arms took a bit of coordination and when he moved him even slightly, Peter could hear moans escaping the unconscious man. For the first time, Peter did not stay behind to fight. The massive amount of smoke in the building made it hard to see and the blood he could feel staining the arm of his suit was starting to become a little concerning. Without another thought, Peter got them both out of the building and away from the commotion.

The weight of swinging with someone else in his arms took a second to get used to. In all the time having the powers, he’d never had to carry another person or accommodate any other weight other than his own. The web fluid design was created with his mass in mind – the chemical formula perfect down to the very gram. By the time he got them to the Stark residence, Peter was beyond tired and completely out of his web fluid – he needed twice the amount to get them both through the swing. Why he thought listening to the mumbled ‘no hospitals’ he heard when he started to talk the unconscious Tony Stark through getting to the hospital was a good idea went way beyond him. Landing by front of the door, he lightly placed Tony on the ground – the man’s shirt completely covered in blood now, his face the palest shade of white he’d ever seen on a person. Peter’s blood covered hand tried the door – but it wouldn’t budge.

Turning back towards the unconscious man, Peter started to panic – he could hear the erratic thump-thump of his heartbeat and immediately felt distracted. He kneeled down and ran a hand over Tony’s pale face – the lack of life there so terribly discerning. “Get him down to the lab, sir. His vitals seem to be rapidly declining,” Peter heard, his head snapping up in the direction of the voice. “What the fuck?” he questioned, his tone scared, filled with doubt and excitement. “I’m Jarvis, sir. I’ve done a scan on Mr. Stark and he needs to be moved. Immediately. I’ll get the door, please get him down to the lab.” As the last words were sounding, Peter watched the door open, the glass moving until there was enough room for the both of them to fit through the frame.

Shaking his head, Peter collected the man in his arms and carried him in. “Where’s the lab, Jarvis? Where do I go?” Peter asked, his eyes roaming all over the place. “Down the stairs. There’s a table in the middle of the lab – place him there.” The younger man could do nothing but listen to whatever thing was helping him and moved further into the house. Down the stairs, Peter could see the coolest lab he’d ever laid eyes on. The space was huge, easily taking up a good majority of Tony’s place. The walls were solid glass and he could already see the start of a few projects scattered at the different workstations. The table became apparent when he got further into the lab. He gently set Tony down on it – his eyes once again roaming all over the place, trying to take in as much as he could and orient himself.

“There is shrapnel all throughout the chest cavity. That will need to be removed.” Peter heard Jarvis again, his ears prickling at the thought of what had been said. “Removed? How do I do that? I’m not a surgeon – I barely remember to wash my hands after I pee!” Peter exclaimed, his hands clenching and unclenching down by his sides. All of the sudden, a screen at the nearest workstation lit up – “simply touch the design to make it multi-dimensional.” Jarvis spoke like he knew what the hell that meant, but he wandered over regardless – his heart beating hard against his chest. Many different things were coursing through his brain, and the thought of fucking with Tony Stark’s tech was one of the last things on that list. He did what he was told, though – his eyes widening when he was able to pull up the instructions for opening the chest cavity and cleaning out wounds. He glanced over them a few times – then set to work.

What the fuck did he know about any of this?

By the time Peter resurfaced, he’d been inside Tony’s chest cavity – and his vitals seemed to finally be settling down. Getting Tony set up on a drip was the easiest part of the whole ordeal. He’d then followed along as Jarvis led him through the process – but there were still pieces floating around the heart and those needed to be taken care of. “Jarvis, what now? Do you have the schematics for how to make an electromagnet that will keep the shrapnel from getting into his heart?” Peter asked the question jokingly, his tone severe – his entire life turned on its side at this point. When the AI answered him, Peter almost chocked – his dry throat suddenly feeling constricting. “The arc reactor technology would suffice. I’ll pull them up now.”

Stepping into Rosenthal Pavilion earlier that day, Peter never imagined this would be its ending. He’d been hands deep inside a man he’d never met and reproduced said man’s technology in his very own lab – all to save his life. He needed Tony stabilized first – so he went through the steps of making the base of the electromagnet and hooked it up the charges of the car battery he yanked out of the roadster Tony was obviously working on remodeling. Then Jarvis led him through the steps of creating the arc reactor – the voice guiding him around the lab, giving him access to files and opening cabinets. After 12 hours, Peter was both surprised that was he still moving and that no one thought to look or follow him to Stark’s place of residence. He wondered, not for the first time, who the group was trying to get to Tony before he swooped in. What did they want if they weren’t willing to follow the target they were supposed to collect – but would bomb the building he was in just to get to him?

Peter didn’t have any time to celebrate his successful creation of the arc reactor. Putting the finishing pieces together, he felt himself smiling – after all of his obsessing, he held a working arc reactor in his hands. The palladium in the core would be toxic and it would need to be changed – but it would serve the purpose of saving Tony’s life, maybe extending it indefinitely if he could find a way to not be poisoned by the toxic chemical powering the thing. A brain like Tony Stark could figure out an alternative, though – especially if his life depended on it. Disconnecting the battery, Peter made quick work of getting the arc reactor into Tony’s chest – his fingers shaking the entire time, the immensity of the situation tangible in the room.

A huge feeling of relief washed over him when Tony’s stats started to even out – the man was looking much less pale, much less on the verge of death. Peter felt himself slide down the glass wall closest to him. What the actual fuck, he thought – his hands were shaking and if he let himself think too hard on it, he’d probably scream. A part of him wondered what a hospital would have done – if they would have even been able to save him in the same way Peter did. He wanted to think making a huge hole in the man’s chest was the best practice of saving him – but another, bigger part thought that maybe he should’ve let the doctors handle it. His frame of mind was not sound and the argument with himself seemed pointless. At least the guy was alive – at least he could carry on another day without being in the hands of people that obviously didn’t have any issues with chaos. Sucking in a breath, Peter let his head rest against the glass – what in the actual fuck?

----

The first thing that hit Tony coming to was the pain. His entire chest felt like it’d been pitted, dug into, and reorganized. The overwhelming cotton mouth hit him next – his tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth and when he managed to detach it, it stuck to his bottom teeth instead. He would never claim the whimper that left his mouth, the pathetic nature of it hitting his ears and radiating within. Upon further exploration, Tony found himself to be weaker than he could ever remember feeling – all of his limbs felt like sandbags, weighed down by a loss of blood. All of the essential electrolytes in his system were sorely lacking. Rolling ever so slightly, Tony let out a huge gasp of air, the pain he felt upon first awakening doubling in magnitude. “What the fuck?” he heard himself saying, his hand moving until he could feel around on his chest – the last thing he remembered was the blood, all of that fucking blood.

His fingers coming into contact with something solid and seemingly connected to him was not what Tony was expecting. This time, the scream didn’t sound real – his brain was disconnected to everything but the solid mass dead center in his chest. He scrabbled at it, weak digits climbing over the – what the fuck – metal? Panic flashed across the front of his brain, the feeling prickly and gross, overwhelming in all the worst ways. Tony sucked in a breath, his already achy chest starting to feel like it was closing in on him. Foreign fingers gripping his wrist made him shout again, his eyes huge when he turned to see the same blue and red he remembered from earlier. The colors flashed right before his eyes and then he couldn’t remember anything – nothing but pain and blackness. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Tony heard the masked figure say, the hand on his wrist steady and firm, poised to take further measures if needed. “What – what did you do to me?” Tony asked, his throat so dry, the voice coming from his throat almost unrecognizable. “I saved your life. That arc reactor tech is amazing, Mr. Stark. And Jarvis is the coolest thing I’ve ever interacted with.” Tony looked at the masked face hopelessly – “What? The arc reactor? What in the fuck happened?” Tony was delirious, he knew it, how else could this be happening? Maybe he died when that blast hit him, maybe this was what his fucked-up version of hell looked like.

“Mr. Stark. Sir. You were giving a speech at NYU. The building was blown up. You were hit. There was so much shrapnel and well – Jarvis and I did the best that we could. You told me no hospitals and there were people gathering around you – people that didn’t look like they were going to be asking for an autograph anytime soon.” Spider-Man said, Tony recognizing the symbol on the person’s chest now that he felt a little more with it. There were so many things going on, so many things to process all at once – but the thought of anyone other than himself putting together that arc reactor made his head spin. He could even come to terms with people trying to kidnap him. That didn’t seem like that far-fetched of an idea. “Jarvis? What’s up, buddy?” The man spider in front of him mentioned Jarvis, how the hell did that happen? “Mr. Stark – our masked friend saved your life. I guided him through the arc reactor schematics – the Spider-Man is very proficient.” Jarvis responded promptly – his matter of fact way of things for once making Tony’s head spin further. “Who are you?” Tony tried again, his brain in overload.

The masked man said nothing and made his way across the lab. Before leaving, Tony saw him turn around – the ill-fitting mask moving slightly. “I’m Spider-Man, Mr. Stark. Glad you’re not dead.” Then, he was gone. Tony kept himself completely still, his body aching, the IV in his arm doing nothing for the dehydrated feeling. He needed to look over the schematics Jarvis gave to his mysterious savior and make sure he wasn’t going to die in the near future. Then – well, then he needed to catch a spider.

----

Tony didn’t get around to anything for a while. Fatigue pulled him under a couple times over the next 15 hours, his body obviously needing to heal before he would be able to do anything. When he asked Jarvis about Happy and Pepper, the AI dutifully reported that both were fine, though completely incapacitated in their own hospital rooms. No other human person on the planet would be looking for him, so he relaxed into the table and let whatever the masked crusader put in the bag do its work. The fact that some of the things he could see scattered all over the place existed in his lab was surprising. He couldn’t remember the last time he stocked the place himself and wondered who had the mind to put emergency medical supplies in there. Whoever it was needed a raise and maybe a medal for great forethought. The fact that a bottle of water was within his reach when Tony felt well enough to roll around and fend for himself was another happy surprise. He felt a bit more human when the crusty feeling finally left his mouth.

A quick scan of the lab showed that hours of work had been done. There were tools all over the place – a hectic collaboration of a few things that didn’t even make sense together. Tony noticed the distinct lack of blood, though – and felt himself thanking the masked man for the first time since coming to who knows how long ago. The stranger even left the holoscreen on, the old schematics of the arc reactor floating there innocently – like they were just blueprints waiting to be worked on, not life-saving parts and pieces. Just by looking at them, he could see the person made a few notes, the unfamiliar scrawl catching his eye immediately. Whoever the person was, they were both smart and seemingly just as out of their head as Tony was. He needed to know who this person was. If they were able to read his schematics and make improvements to them – they must be smart, as smart if not smarter than Tony himself.

“Jarvis, run a scan – what kind of damage am I looking at?” Tony finally felt energized enough to tackle some of this. With Jarvis’s help, he could probably have a few leads on the man spider and a better look at what actually went into his body. “You lost a lot of blood, sir. We were unable to organize a blood transfusion in such a short time. Your electrolyte levels are startling and there is slight swelling around the wound. The Spider-Man did a good job, sir. He was a very apt pair of hands.” If Jarvis had the ability to feel, Tony figured he would’ve heard pride in the AI’s voice. He shook his head, the motion making his muscles ache – reminding him he needed to eat, or drink, or more than likely just sleep on something that wasn’t a metal table. “Wil you cross reference all of the Spider-Man footage and try to pinpoint a location? I believe in you, Jarvis. Find me Spider-Man,” Tony said after a while, his body once again feeling drained, though he knew he needed to get somewhere that wasn’t his lab. A shower would be nice, but he figured that could probably wait.

Tony used the last of his energy to get up the stairs and onto the stupidly uncomfortable couch in his living room. What in the world possessed him to purchase such a piece of shit? Probably the price tag. He never assumed he’d be in the position he was in now, either. Vitally wounded and completely wrecked – too tired to do much other than make sure his chest rose and fell. Sleep claimed him for a while, his dreams feverish – so full of snippets of things he couldn’t remember, of darkness and pressure – always pressure. The next time he came around, the sun was down, and it was completely dark in the house. “Jarvis, hit the lights, will you?” Tony grumbled, his hand moving to hold the muscles in his stomach – every single shift like trying to straighten a rusty nail, agonizing and overtaxing. Little by little, the lights came up, the place just a bit brighter – bright enough to see a blanket had been placed across his shoulders and another water bottle was placed near him. This time, a Chewy bar was there, too.

“Who’d you let in, buddy?” Tony asked, his body allowing him just enough energy usage to grab the water from the table – his mouth parched again, his lips not used to being so puffy and dry. “The Spider-Man came by, sir. He made sure you weren’t feverish and left you sustenance. He also did not reveal his identity when I asked – he seemed adamant about keeping it to himself.” Tony let the words register, a part of him a little freaked out. The masked man had done enough to win over his AI – Jarvis was the closest thing Tony had to family. That meant he had access to Tony, access that if given to the wrong person could be a real issue – the kind that could put his life in even more danger than it already was. On the other hand, if he’d won over Jarvis – he had to be good. Tony was too smart to program code that would stab him in the back. At least, he sincerely hoped so.

“What did you find then, Jarvis? There has to be some cross referencing – something,” Tony muttered, his low energy making it hard to keep his thoughts straight. “There seems to be a stem of activity that seems to source just off of 52nd Street in Queens, New York. There’s a particular bodega on that corner that has the loyal protection of Spider-Man.” The flat screen on the wall suddenly lit up with footage, the same corner in every single video. He couldn’t remember the last time he thought about Queens, let alone tried to go there – so he didn’t recognize the place. That was easily remedied, though – a little nighttime recognizance never hurt anyone. “Send the address to my phone. I’m going to do a little digging of my own.”

Tony ignored the AI’s next words, “But sir, you are still critically injured – perhaps resting another day would be beneficial.” He shook his head, the man completely committed to finding out about his savior, even if that meant following the illusive Spider-Man. Throwing back the entirety of the water, Tony managed to get himself up off the couch – the Chewy bar stuck fast between his lips. He still ached – there wasn’t any denying that. His entire trunk felt like it’d been split in half – but at the same time, he felt… okay. There was a huge part of him that felt a little weary about getting comfortable with this okay feeling, but at the moment – it certainly beat the alternative. Slowly waddling into his bedroom, Tony got himself to the en suite where he proceeded to splash some water on his face and brush his teeth – now that he didn’t feel like death, he wanted to freshen up. He didn’t know much about how the arc reactor would react with water, so he bypassed a shower – the water on his face just enough, anyway. At least now he felt a little better.

He stared down at his chest when he managed to get his shirt off. The glow of the reactor was the first thing to catch his eye. At least he’d never have to worry about getting dressed in the dark again. It cast light out a couple feet in front of him, like a beacon or something. The skin around it was very red, so red in fact that it he wasn’t surprised by the amount of pain he was. There were several patches of white gauze taped to his chest – some of them stained with remnants of blood – the fact that he was still healing very evident, very much there. Slamming his eyes shut for a second, Tony let a swell of nausea pass over him. How the fuck had so much changed in such a short period of time? And now that it had – what was he going to do? There was someone after him, the very someone that decided to blow up the building he was in… with his very explosives. No matter what – he needed to track down Spider-Man, find out who the masked stranger was, and enlist him. Whatever they were facing, Tony figured having an ally that was smart – so fucking smart – wasn’t the worst deal.

Changing into clean clothes took a bit longer than he imagined it would, but finally – Tony was dressed in black sweatpants and a hoodie, a hat slung low over his eyes. The Audi was somewhere in the rubble of the NYU building he’d been in and his Roadster was picked apart – Tony had a strange feeling that the battery powered the electromagnet inside him for a short period of time, but he tried not think too hard about that. Happy would shit himself if he saw Tony slipping behind the wheel of the Durango. It was low key, though, and would fit in better than anything else in his garage. He’d make it up to Happy later if anything happened to the car.

This was simply an information gathering exercise, anyway. Tony lacked the ability to run anyone down, even if he wanted to. He felt a little fuzzy getting behind the wheel, his limbs so stupidly heavy. He had Jarvis direct him to the address through his phone, the drive surprisingly easy for having to cross the bridge. By the time he pulled up, it was much later in the evening – no hints of bright sky or light anywhere in sight. Tony’s body reluctantly let him slide down in his seat slightly – his muscles protesting every second he was in that position. He sat back and watched, hoping for once that his lucky would actually win out.

----

Peter watched an SUV pull up outside of Del Mar’s bodega and frowned. He managed to keep most of the trouble away from Del Mar’s place. His soft spot for the man and all the faith he had in Peter growing up made sure everyone knew Spider-Man protected the place. From his vantage point on the roof of the building across the street, he couldn’t see much other than the one person driving the car. Stepping down the stairs on the side of the building as quietly as he could, Peter got a closer look at the driver of the car and almost let go of the ladder. He recovered quickly, his quick reflexes keeping him just barely upright. It was silly, thinking he’d be able to hide from Tony Stark. From here he could see how pale the man was – the extra energy it took to get behind the wheel and drive all the way out here was way more than the man could afford so shortly after a huge trauma. Shaking his head, Peter made a split-second decision.

When he stopped in earlier that day to check in on Mr. Stark, he almost stopped short when Jarvis asked him who he was. The AI went on to say Tony requested he gather information on Spider-Man and wanted to see if he would simply tell instead. He snorted, entertained by the blunt lack of humanity that question portrayed. He’d been successfully hiding his identity for three years now – what would it even be like to have someone else know who he was, what he did on a nightly basis, how stressful it could be? “You’ll have to try and find out yourself, Jarvis. If Tony is as smart as he makes himself out to be, it won’t be too hard.” Peter hated having to play coy – but he wasn’t sure yet. He didn’t know how much he wanted to trust the man.

That seemed silly after how intimate he was with the man’s insides, after how much care he took to make sure Tony Stark got to see the world another day. He was used to being in it by himself, though. For three years it was him and him alone – stopping thieves and pick pockets, keeping the young kids and women safe. For the most part, he did okay on his own. Maybe having someone on his side wouldn’t be the worst thing, though – maybe having the smartest man in the world on his team could be of some benefit.

He made sure to leave water and something light for the man to eat when he came to again – his study of the body telling him the fact that he didn’t get blood during the entire ordeal probably wasn’t the best for his health. He’d need to replenish, and fluids would help with that. Peter honestly didn’t think he’d see any sign of Tony Stark for at least one more day – he hoped, at least. Yet, when he recognized the manicured goatee, he wasn’t all that surprised, either. From the very brief encounter he had with the man, it was easy to see how much conviction he did everything with – if he had enough strength, Peter knew Tony would have chased him out of the lab, still demanding to know who he was. Internal decision made, Pete climbed down the stairs he’d been perched on and made his way over to the car. Reaching out, he tapped on the passenger side window – the move obviously surprising the fuck out of the man in the car. He watched with a smile as Tony startled and grabbed his chest, the injury still so obviously tender. Peter laughed when recognition washed over Stark’s face, his hands moving to press the lock button to open the door for his friend, Spider-Man.

Climbing into the car, Peter settled into the seat, a heavy sigh leaving his lips. Not for the first time that evening, he was glad to have his face covered – at least for now. Something told him he would have a hard steeling his expression around Tony. The man seemed like the type who could pull just about anything he wanted from a person. “Please, Mr. Stark. Start the car and drive somewhere other than Del Mar’s – people would recognize my face around here,” Peter said, the words sounding final to his ears. He felt the mood in the car shift and heard an audible sigh leave Tony’s lips. “You got it. We can go back to my place – Jarvis is a good watch dog,” Tony replied, the man sluggishly moving to get the car started and back on the road. They didn’t talk on the drive over – Peter watched Tony fiddle his fingers on the steering wheel and readjust his position in the seat a few times, but the man never once tried to engage him in conversation. The great Tony Stark speechless, who would have thought?

They pulled into the now recognizable garage just off the lab in no time at all. Peter watched Tony relax back into the seat and take a heavy breath. Too much activity, he thought – this stubborn man bound to hurt himself if someone didn’t step in. Peter took the matter into his own hands and got out of the car, his feet carrying him into the lab. He already felt at home there and could easily visualize where all the tools came from. His work from a few nights ago was still scattered around, Tony obviously still not up for much. He sat confidently in one of the spinney chairs from a workspace, straddling the back with a leg on either side. Peter waited for Tony to join him before tugging off his mask, the lights in the lab a little bright for a second before he got adjusted to them. “I’m Peter Parker.”

Peter was surprised by himself, when he got out of the car, he didn’t have a plan of attack. He meant to tell Tony who he was, he just didn’t think he’d just – blurt it out like that. Now that it was out in the open, though – it felt kind of nice. Tony didn’t miss a beat, either – he simply closed the distance between them and held out a hand – “It’s nice to meet you, Peter Parker. I’m Tony Stark. Thank you for saving my life.” His hand was warm when Peter caught it in his own. That was surprising considering how pale Tony still looked, but maybe the guy was naturally warm – the handsome human practically radiating a certain kind of heat. “You invented it and had all the supplies. I just put the thing together,” Peter answered, his hands coming up in mock surrender. He watched Tony grab a matching spinney chair and sit down heavily – a look of relief flashing across his face. “The fact that you even knew anything about that is amazing. Is that why you were at my speech that day? Big fan of the arc reactor?”

“I am, actually. I did some pretty extensive research on it in high school, and I’ve used every opportunity since then to look into it more and more. You hit a gold mine with it, sir. What’s in your chest – it’ll power you for a long time. Well, when you figure out what you’re going to do about the palladium.” Pete shrugged, his lips twitching when he saw Tony chuckle and try to hide it behind a well-timed nose wipe. “You were looking at this shit in high school? No wonder. What’s a genius like you doing at NYU? I bet MIT would have taken you in a minute.” Tony tilted his head curiously at him, eyes alight for the first time all evening. “I got in – they just didn’t give me enough money to make it worth going. I got a full ride to NYU. You can’t beat free school, Mr. Stark.” Peter shrugged, and he was being 100% truthful, too. In a few short months, he’d have a bachelor’s degree and be one step closer to getting his dream job – though, he might be closer now than he’d ever been before.

“You saved my life, Pete. You can cut the Mr. Stark shit. Tony’s good.” He wanted to laugh; he could feel the bubble of it slowly making its way up. A part of him liked the way it made Tony’s jaw clench when he said it – like it hurt, how nice it felt to hear that. “You got it, Tony.” Peter replied instead. He’d keep that other knowledge in his pocket for a rainy day. He got the feeling this wouldn’t be the only time he’d be here, sitting in the lab with Tony Stark sitting across from him. And he was proven right not a minute later. “I could use someone like you. Around here, I mean. I checked out a few of the adjustments you made and there are so many things we could do with the energy from this thing. I want to make a suit – find a way to make it interactive with Jarvis and powered by the arc reactor. I bet we could find a way to make it stable – really harness the energy. What do you say? I’ll make you a suit, too. Upgrade you a little bit, Spidey-Boy.”

Pete’s mouth felt dry for a second, all of the ideas and request in those brief statements rattling around, each one trying to settle in and get comfortable. He would absolutely like access to this lab, there was no doubting that. The thought of a new suit wasn’t that horrible, either. The googles he’d washed out to obscure his senses a bit were starting to scratch – the lens getting harder and harder to see out of every day. And it only made sense – to help Tony create something he could use to protect himself. There were obviously people after him – people that weren’t opposed to causing chaos. One of the things that always intrigued him about the arc reactor was all the possibilities that could come from it and the idea of exploring them – he honestly couldn’t say he wanted to miss out on that, either. Rolling his shoulders, he nodded – making sure to catch Tony’s eye. “Alright, I’m in. Especially if you’re going to make me a suit. I could use something a little better than the pool goggles,” Peter replied after a while, a smile on his face mirrored in the quirk of Tony’s lips across from him.

“I’m looking forward to working with you, Spider-Man,” Tony said excitedly, his arm wrapping around Peter in a weak side armed hug.

----

And man was he. Tony couldn’t remember having more fun in the lab than he did with Peter. As the days passed, Tony got stronger and stronger – the man actually eating at regular intervals and getting sleep. His body screamed for rest and he knew the only way to be on top of his game was to give into it. The days were spent between the comfort of his bed and the ease of the lab. They put together a much more stable arc reactor and replaced the initial prototype. They kept Peter’s original work on the lab table between them, each referencing it whenever they discussed a new adjustment or a replacement to one of the existing pieces. When they came to a consensus, the unit they installed in Tony’s chest was high functioning and could power the suit they were aiming to create.

Pepper and Happy were released from the hospital about two weeks after the initial incident and insisted on knowing everything that happened – the glow in Tony’s chest hard to miss. He explained everything to them, he left out Peter being Spider-Man and little details like that, but they both seemed satisfied by the end of his explanation. The official press statement said that Tony was recovering and would not be conducting any duties for Stark Industries at the moment, which gave him plenty of time to work with Peter to get the suit up and running. The people around him took to Peter with the same ease that he did and instantly welcomed him as Tony’s assistant and personal savior. He felt his cheeks burn a little at that thought – he hadn’t been able to look at the man without a little bit of a hero complex since he saw the face behind the mask. Of course, the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man would be an adorable young man with chestnut eyes and curls. Any time they got close to examine a part of the plan or look at how the lug nuts were lining up – Tony felt himself catching his breath, the closeness between them holding so much unspoken within it. For whatever reason, Tony was more than sure that Peter wanted him just as much as Tony did.

One night in particular stuck out in Tony’s mind – his brain forever stuck on the look in Peter’s eyes, of the taste of his lips. They made a breakthrough on the thrust boosters in the foot portion of the suit. They were both delirious from a lack of sleep and when Tony managed to hover in the air and not eat shit for the first time all night – they were wrapping their arms around each other. Tony sucked in a breath when Peter tucked his head into the gap between his shoulder and neck. In all the time they’d been spending together, they’d never been that close before. He took in another long deep breath – trying to remember the scent of Pure Sport Old Spice and something citrusy. When they let go, Tony fumbled the control and let the right side shut off first, that entire side of his body falling and hitting the ground hard. He luckily got the other boot off before it could carry him one legged around the room. Letting out a groan, he turned onto his back – the air in his lungs caught between the crush of his sternum and the laugh bubbling up into his chest.

Tony saw the worried look on Peter’s face when the guy ran over to him, those long fingers wrapping around his arm – the pads digging in ever so slightly. “You alright, Tony? That was wicked. I can’t believe that worked – we’ll have to work on the bilateral coordination, though. Can’t have you eating shit every time we need to land into action,” Peter mumbled, his fingers absentmindedly running over his exposed shoulder – the touch nice, the feel of Peter’s fingers a lot bit distracting. “I think I just need a couple more runs with it and I’ll have it down. It takes a bit of thought coordination, that’s all.” Tony sat up a little while he spoke, the other man not moving away from him, instead, it felt like Peter was trying to get closer.

“Pete, I uh – “ Tony started to talk, his cheeks red from what was bubbling up in his mouth, the words on the very tip of his tongue. It seemed as if he and Peter were on the same page, though – the other man’s finger pressing against his lips effectively silencing him. “Me too. Can I kiss you?” The question rang in Tony’s ears, the simplicity of it making him stomach clench – Peter was the cutest person on this fucking planet. Brilliant and handy, but so goddamn adorable. Tony felt himself nodding, his entire head leaning into the littlest of touches still there against his lip. He felt his eyes slide shut when Peter leaned forward and closed the distance – their lips sealing together perfectly, like they’d done this a million times before.

With Peter, Tony kind of felt that way about everything – like he’d known the person behind the mask forever. His hand shot up to tangle into Peter’s hair, the locks at the back of his head thick – easy to get his fingers lost in. The curls had been driving him crazy for the past couple of weeks. He noticed it for the first time when Peter walked in with a hat on. There were people starting to notice Tony’s whereabouts again and Peter coming and going was bound to be in the papers some time or another. He wanted to keep his identity on the down low as much as possible, though – so he’d taken to wearing what he called a dad hat, the plainness of it making the other’s hair stand out even more. The fact that it felt like silk under his fingertips only fueled the fire he’d been stoking for weeks now.

The need for oxygen forced them apart – Tony’s brain running haywire, trying to focus on the man in front of him, but his lips were tinging – so many things were happening at once. Peter’s fingers under his chin brought his head up until they were looking into each other’s eyes. “You’ve been driving me crazy for weeks, Stark. You ready to give in, or are we going to keep doing this mutual pining thing? Unresolved sexual tension is no bueno,” Peter’s words were laced with a wide smile, each one ringing in Tony’s ear – the man struggling to remember how the syllables sound there, how he felt when they sunk into his skin and took hold. “Did you just proposition me, Peter Parker?” Tony asked with a laugh, his hand reaching out to palm Peter’s cheek. “You could’ve fucked me weeks ago – why did you wait to be so brash?”

Tony watched Peter get up and then took the hand extended to him. He looped both hands around the slim waist in front of him, his fingers pressing ever so slightly on Peter’s lower back to fill in the space between them. “Just shut up and let’s go to bed, huh?” Peter whispered, his lips just inches away from Tony’s. He filled the gap between them, silently answering Peter’s plea with the press of their lips together. Instead of trying to fumble their way up the stairs and then down the hall, Tony forced himself to pull away completely – his hand grabbing for Peter’s to lead him into the bedroom. The second the door was closed, Peter was on him – the chance to break away from each other was gone, the two of them committing to this by walking through the door together – Tony was a goner, and this was the easiest decision he’d made in years.

They ended up in a tangled heap on the bed, both men shirtless, Tony writhing eagerly under the weight of Peter’s body. Peter’s fingertips were tracing over every inch of Tony’s skin, the feeling pulling moans he’d never heard come out of his mouth before. The touch was exploratory – like Peter was attempting to map all the pieces of him. When those fingers settled on the arc reactor, Tony glanced up – his eyes hazy, but able to see the reverie in Peter’s. He didn’t say anything, he simply ran his fingers over the edge – the glow of it reflecting in those big, beautiful brown eyes. Tony gathered Peter up for a kiss after that, his hands demanding in the way they tugged – the press of their lips just on the border of desperate. He let a hand get tangled in the length of Peter’s hair while the other slipped between them to tug on the close of tight jeans.

It took them another few minutes to break away from the kiss to get the rest of the way naked. Tony was content to let his fingers explore and dip under the parts of Peter’s pants that were loose enough to wiggle passed. They found a pretty easy rhythm and thrust against each other – the slight friction just enough to edge off the desperation. Peter eventually tore himself away, Tony’s eyes peeled in excitement watching the man’s chest heave. Those hands Tony let himself become familiar with during their time in the lab went to undo his pants first. He lifted his hips and let Peter pull boxer-briefs and jeans down all at once, Tony suddenly naked and the most vulnerable he’d been in a long time. His face and neck filled with color, the rest of the blood in his system battling between heading towards his dick or his brain – the quick rush of it to the pit of his stomach saying his dick won fair and square. Sucking in a harsh breath in an attempt to calm down, Tony felt it punched from his lungs a second later – Peter was off the bed just long enough to strip off his remaining clothing and rejoin him naked as the day he was born.

Tony’s eager fingers fumbled over all the skin they could – Peter’s flawless muscle definition creating divots in his path. A low moan slipped from his throat when he felt the ripple of abs under his fingers. He spent a couple extra moments paying homage to the muscle bellies he could feel, each twitching under the attention of his finger. Reaching his final destination, Tony cupped Peter’s cock in his hand. The man was well defined in all aspects, his penis long and thick, the best kind of weight in his hand. Tony didn’t spend much time exploring, the pants against his lips and cheek were too much – eager fingers wrapped around Pete’s length and found a steady rhythm. Watching Pete thrust into the tight fist of his hand was easily one of the hottest things he’d experienced to date – though he wouldn’t have the picture of Peter bending him in half until a little while later.

The teasing continued, Tony’s palm glanced the head of Peter’s cock and he felt the slick moisture there – a steady trail of precum leaked deliciously from it. “I can’t wait to know what it feels like to have this in me,” Tony mumbled, his lips breaking from Peter’s to say the words. The huff he got in response made his skin tingle. Peter pulled away and looked at him hungrily. They shared a silent conversation and then Tony was pointing over his head. “There’s lube in the drawer,” Tony said, his voice laced with a pant. His entire body felt flush and on edge. Every limb pulsed with energy and ached to be wrapped around Peter – he wanted to swallow him up and keep him, Tony already knowing they were the best when together.

It turned out Peter wasn’t much of a tease when his own arousal started to become too much. His prep of Tony wasn’t rushed, though he didn’t spend too much time trying to finesse it, either. The first finger had them moaning together – Tony enjoying the feeling of fullness, Peter totally undone by the warmth around him. One turned to two and on a particularly good turn of his wrist, Peter pressed against Tony’s prostate and had him groaning out. A couple more passes across that sensitive area had Tony grabbing the back of Peter’s head and pressing their lips together in a heated kiss, “If you don’t fuck me right now, I’ll finish without you,” Tony’s words blistering hot against Peter’s lips. Tony knew Peter was a smart man and was further proven so when he pulled his fingers out and used the leftover lube to coat his cock. He watched a flush spread over Peter’s chest as one stroke to spread the lube became too many. Teeth cut into that plump lower lip, probably hard enough to draw blood.

One of the things Tony liked the most about Peter thrusting home was the strength of it. The subtle reminders of the superhuman strength the other man possessed were always enough to set his skin ablaze. In all the time experimenting and putting their suits together, Tony appreciated the instances he got to see Peter’s skill the most. The fight between them was always pretty fair, regardless of the fact that Peter fought with his fists, speed, and cleverly crafted web fluid and Tony flew around and had weapons at his disposal. There were so many things Tony liked about Peter, but the raw strength ranked high on the list. He forced himself to relax, Peter’s gentle but firm thrust helping in all the right ways. The feeling of the other settling and their bodies being joined together almost had Tony coming – but he held off. The look of pure hunger and desperate lust in Peter’s eyes made him too excited to see what was to come.

Peter stayed upright and held Tony’s thighs in his hands while he thrust – the visual of it just as tantalizing as the press of a perfect cock first inside him and then against that place that made him see stars. Tony absentmindedly let his fingers run down the washboard of Peter’s abs – the thrusts of his hips making the muscle tighten and clench. The fingers holding his thighs were going to leave marks, their grip rough – keeping him steady to be the perfect target for the thrusts that increased in intensity with every passing second. Peter looked like a vision with sweat dripping down his brow and the side of his cheek – the hair falling into his eyes heavy with it. The next time they did this, Tony wanted to spend time documenting all the tiny details – the man thrusting into him genuinely too good looking for his own good. Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to in that moment – his entire body felt like it was floating and each press against his prostate brought him closer and closer to the edge.

The peak of their coupling snuck up on both men – Tony’s toes curling with the pleasure of it, Peter’s eyes closing and thrusts speeding up until they were frenzied, each one more out of sync than the last. Coming untouched was a marvel idea for Tony – when he felt the splash of his release hit his stomach, he gasped in surprise, the force of his orgasm dragging Peter’s name from his lips in a breathy scream. He desperately tried to find purchase on the sweat soaked skin surrounding him – if not, he just might float away. Peter came not even a minute later, his upper body coming down to press hard into Tony’s chest – the man biting a solid chunk of the trap on his right side. “Fuck, Tony,” Peter gasped against his skin, the words almost as hot as the splash of cum Tony could feel deep within him. Pleasure personified.

It was easy to fall into the mattress together after that. Tony laid flat against it and wrapped Peter up tightly against his side, the younger man’s head pillowed on his chest. They laid there swirling into and out of consciousness for what seemed like a while. Tony thoroughly enjoying the floaty feeling of his limbs and the contrasting solid weight against his chest. His fingers made paths across Peter’s back and shoulders – there and back, the smooth skin divine to the touch.

----

The glow of being together lasted a whole fourteen days. They worked diligently to work out the last few kinks and bugs to complete the suit. The test flight Tony flew went amazingly well – he tested the length of the arc reactor and luckily had a partner out there with him ready to catch him when he came plummeting back down to the earth – the armor frozen from its ride through the different parts of the atmosphere. Peter touched him down on the edge of the cliff closest to Tony’s place and ripped off his mask. “That was fucking amazing! You disappeared from sight and then came plummeting out of the clouds. Coolest shit ever, Tony,” Peter said through his excitement, a huge smile on his face. It was a joyous occasion – the suit was well built and could fly (Tony could fucking fly!) There was no telling how well it’d do in a fight but Tony trusted Jarvis’s skill and his own mechanical expertise. Between him and Peter, every part of the suit had been checked, rechecked, and then crafted with the utmost precision.

Confrontation came in the form of a threat – Tony’s opposition finally showing his ugly face. He’d been waiting for Peter to show up for the last ten minutes. The kid was pretty good about being timely and seemed to like to be with Tony for the most part, anyway. It wasn’t like him to not show up. The doorbell ringing had Tony looking around him in panic – for the first time, a thought that something bad might have gotten ahold of Peter entering his mind. “Jarvis, is there anyone actually at the door?” Tony asked, his hands clenching into fists. “It does not appear so, sir. There seems to be something sitting in front of it, though – a letter, or small envelope, maybe.” Another shot of panic ran through him – there were no planned Stark Industries deliveries and any mail for the house was put in the neighborhood box half a mile away. Gritting his teeth, he went to the front door to open it and found a white letter envelope with his name on the back.

When he got it open, Tony felt his mouth dry – the message could only be from one person.

“You took the company, what I cared about the most, from me. I’ll take what you care about the most from you now.”

The message was attached to a picture of Peter walking into his apartment complex – the photographer capturing his facial features perfectly. Only one person on the planet thought Tony took the company from him – Obadiah Stane. He’d been a big part of his father’s team when the man was younger and stood in as head of the company until Tony came of age. The empire was his to inherit and when he turned 21, he took what was rightfully his. Trying to keep the peace with Obadiah didn’t work out and they quickly parted. For the most part, Tony didn’t hear a peep from the man. Of course, he knew the corporate big wig went right to Stark Industries’ main competition at Ozcorp, but there hadn’t been much of a fallout. It all made sense, though. The fact that the building was blown up with his own explosives, that he’d been given all of this time after the attack. Obie was bidding his time – waiting to see what Tony’s next move was.

The only advantage they had in the situation was the fact that Peter was Spider-Man and his identity outside of the mask was completely separate. “Jarvis, will you call Peter, please?” Tony said absentmindedly. The call connected after two rings – “Tony – are you okay?” Peter’s voice sounded worried, the pitch a bit higher than usual. “I didn’t come that way because I felt people following me. I got caught up talking to a professor and didn’t get up to the roof like I normally do. I had to walk home and had a tail on me the second I left campus,” Peter continued, the strain in his voice making Tony’s stomach clench. What if Peter wasn’t who he was? He would’ve been in a terrible amount of danger. Shaking his head, he forced himself to focus on the call. “I’m fine and I’m glad you’re okay. I was worried when you didn’t show up. I got a threatening note and figured you stayed put for a reason. Do you think they’re still watching you, or could you get here?”

When they hung up, Tony paced anxiously back and forth, the picture of Peter clenched tightly in his hand. Now he knew who he was dealing with, Tony needed to give the man another opportunity to come at him – the perfect misdirection for a planned attack from him and Peter – Iron Man and Spider-Man. Tony still smiled every time they called the suit Iron Man – Peter’s creative naming something that made the suit truly special. He let out a sigh of relief when he heard Jarvis open the door of the garage – Peter’s upgraded suit a thing of grace and excellence when Pete bound into the shop wearing it. “Damn, we did good work on that thing. How are the new web shooters?” Tony asked, his brain momentarily distracted from the daunting task at hand. “Amazing. I haven’t swung so seamlessly the entire time I’ve been doing this shit,” Peter responded honestly, his mask coming off despite the rest of the suit staying on.

In the end, they decided to bait the next attack by having a press conference at Stark Industries. The piece of tech that helped attach the suit to Tony and the arc reactor could be moved into the lab there – and when Tony made his entrance, it would be as Iron Man and not Tony Stark. He figured Obie wouldn’t strike with the same weapon twice, so they prepared for everything that could possibly be thrown their way. Peter would be watching from above the commotion, checking to make sure explosives were not the name of this game. Wouldn’t it be something – having Stark Industries blown up by a Stark Industries weapon? It took a little bit of convincing to get Pepper and Happy on board – but the plan quickly came to a head and all of the pieces were on the board and ready to move.

The night before the press conference was scheduled to take place, Tony and Peter were pressed together in the lab, the two of them going over last minute plans, making sure that Jarvis was compatible with both their suits and prepared for each and every one of their battle plans. The AI reminded them the lateness of the hour not long later and Tony reluctantly pulled Peter up the stairs into his bedroom. He didn’t want to think about what not winning would mean, all of their plans were sound and for the most part – Tony felt confident. Yet, he couldn’t fight with the part of him that just wanted to pull Peter close to him and keep him there. No words were shared while they showered together. Each took turns washing the other, Tony content to be able to smell himself all over Peter’s skin when they eventually tumbled onto the bed together and settled under the sheets. Though the man was much stronger than Tony, he fit perfectly in the embrace of his arms, his thin frame heavily muscled, but so easy to tuck into all the right curves and nooks of Tony’s frame.

He pressed a handful of kisses against Pete’s neck and used the hand tossed over the man’s side to pull him close. “I love you, Pete. Tomorrow is about keeping us both safe. So don’t do anything stupid, okay?” Tony whispered. The low tone of his voice didn’t damper the magnitude of his words and the room stayed quiet for a second. He counted Peter’s breaths, each inhale and exhale until he felt the rumble of words from deep in his chest. “I love you too, Tony. I won’t if you promise the same. I think we both know we’ll do whatever we need to to keep the other safe. Let’s just kick ass and get this over with.” Pete didn’t say anything else after that, he simply pulled Tony’s arm closer and relaxed into the mattress. Tony sat in the silence for a few minutes longer, his eyes burning from sleepiness and anxiety – though he felt himself easily lulled into oblivion by the steady rise and fall of Peter’s breath.

They stayed tangled up like that for the rest of the night.

----

The idea of going up against the power of another arc reactor never crossed either of their minds. When Peter first saw the shine of it in Obadiah’s suit – he just about shit himself. The kidnapping attempt didn’t have anything to do with Tony – not really, anyway. The notes for Tony’s speech were the last thing on anyone’s mind and couldn’t have possibly been the main target. In the end – it all made sense. Obadiah was the one to convince Tony’s father that the arc reactor technology wasn’t worth pursuing and he was now trying to take the man’s legacy down with it. What a cosmic joke. Peter bid his time, the suit they’d created standing up to the other tech well. Peter was the surprise at the end and showing himself too soon would ruin whatever edge they had on the man.

Peter watched with pride while Tony flew around Obie – the grey suit a second-rate attempt at the glory of the red and gold flying through the sky. Peter made a joke about Tony’s ass a couple seconds before they started matching colors to the armor. Jarvis simply stated how nice the red blush looked on Tony’s skin and suddenly – the originally gold colored suit became gold and red. It was fitting and made the genius in the sky look badass and stunning all at once. Tony’s maneuvers were well timed and obviously trained – the light suit perfect for the type of attack Tony seemed to like. Where Obie’s suit lacked in finesse, it made up for it in fire power. Peter stopped himself a couple times when Tony took big hits from the rockets souring out of Obie’s suit – but he always got up and managed to get the upper hand.

The need to step in came when the damn right boot took a hit and started to splutter. They were high in the sky and a fall from there would be a disaster for Tony. Shooting a web to one of the higher beams on the Stark Industries building, Peter went soaring into the air, his eyes sharply focused on the right side of Tony’s suit. Thankfully, it started to work full thrust again, but he’d been seen by Obie. The next thing he knew, there was a huge rocket coming his direction. A quick jump had him out of the way of the sleuthing weapon – though, the clunky silver suit was moving in on him quickly. He swung a couple of times – the space to roam limited where he landed. It looked like he was getting closed in on and then a shot from Tony’s thrusters hit Obie’s shoulder and his attention was on the other man once again.

Peter watched with wide eyes as Tony flew up into the sky – that first flight test coming back to the forefront of his mind. What a clever fucking human, Peter thought, his eyes flashing with his next step. Carefully watching above him, Peter spotted Tony’s suit falling first and then a second later, the big silver suit. He swung until he was in a good spot to get Tony out of the sky enough to have the suit kick start again. The force of catching Tony from that distance made him let out a grunt – a huge bruise that wouldn’t go away in just a couple hours would probably mare his skin later. It was worth it, though. The second he felt Tony’s suit come to life again, Peter was moving – several of his webs getting shot out in quick succession until the silver suit was wrapped up. A final few had him immobile against the wall of Stark’s building. He kept hitting the collection of web fluid with more and more – making sure the bonds were secure. Satisfied, he looked over his shoulder and nodded. Tony floated effortlessly in front of the suit held captive and at their mercy under tons of Peter’s creation. He said nothing as Tony’s glove settled around the silver suit’s arc reactor unit and tugged – the unit powering down the second the energy source was removed.

The most satisfaction from that evening came when Peter watched the bald man getting packed into the police car. He was shouting over his shoulder, yielding threats – but they were unheard. The media would portray him as a mad man, the wild look in his eyes perfect for whatever bad guy campaign they wanted to run with. A bruised-up Tony settled up to Pete’s side, the man slumping against him – into his arms for all the world to see. They stayed geared up in their suits until the media circus of a huge public fight became too much. Making sure Obie was secure, Jarvis let them into the side of the building where Tony could get unassembled and changed. They appeared distraught by the doors a few minutes later, the only other ones wise to the situation sequestered away, probably dealing with the media. The first click of the camera pointed in their direction caught a snap of Tony pressing a kiss to the side of Peter’s head, the two men in an obviously close position. If Tony was going to announce to the world that Peter was his, well – he couldn’t think of a better way of going about it.

They made the headlines for the next week – the genuine look of affection and concern on Tony’s face with Peter in his arms the talk of the media nation.

Peter kept a piece of the very first write up on his person at all times, Tony’s statement one of his favorites.

[We got to talk to Tony Stark about Stark Industries and the young man that he was pictured with after an attack on the building from Obadiah Stane – the company’s ex-CEO. When asked how the young man tamed the wild Tony Stark, the billionaire got a little misty eyed. “Peter saved my life. In the most obvious way – “ The interviewer noted here that Tony tapped his chest, right over the arc reactor. “and in a lot of other ways, too. He’s focus, intelligence, patience, and strength wrapped up together in a beautiful package. The perfect partner. He’s the direction I’ve always needed.”]

After Obie, Peter got to finish college in peace and join Tony in all ways. He secured a job with Stark Industries as Tony’s equal and they expanded the house on the cliff to include a bigger lab and training area for Iron Man and Spider-Man to train inconspicuously. With things more settled, Peter’s favorite moments can be shared patrols and the ease in which they work together.

Perfect partners, indeed.

#starker #peter parker/tony stark #tony stark/peter parker #ironspider #peter #tony #marvel fanfiction #fan fics #fics #prompts #bobbie writes

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singeramg · 5 years

Text

Midnight: Chapter 7

Pairing: Clark Kent- Superman/ Metahuman! Black! OFC

Warnings: Still angsty.

A/n: I was going to wait to post this until next week but naw lol Here is chapter 7!

CATCH UP HERE!

Midnight: Chapter 7

I felt the plane descending and soon I was grateful for the feeling of solid, non war torn ground underneath me. I had stopped crying a long time ago and resolved to go home on a high note. I conjured a brush and made sure my hair didn’t look like a rats nest as best I could without my coconut oil and my tried and true detangling comb. It went back into a high ponytail. I came back out of the room as the hatch to the plane opened for us to get out.

“Hey Gia the team is going out for a drink! Wanna come with us?”

Barry offers and I knew he was just glad to be included. I walked over to the team, noting Clark’s absence.

“Sorry guys but I can’t. I promised someone special ice cream and seeing as my lovely sitter hasn’t called me crying I think I’ll pass before it all goes bad. It’s been awesome to let Midnight out to play.”

I was surprised to feel disappointment from all of them. I was touched but I knew I had to stick to my original plan, besides I didn’t know if they invited Clark to their little outing and he just zipped home to get out of his get up or not.

“Maybe you should let her out more often. Need more women like us in the field.” Diana says.

“ Maybe. For now though. I think it’s best if I lay low. Stay safe.”

I waved and shifted to become invisible because I wanted no one to see where I was going...

The train ride back to my apartment was long, with all the stops and whatnot it was twice as long as the chauffeured car I had to get to Metropolis. I made it home, grateful that Kalen was still down the hall because I had time to get out of my clothes and take a hot shower. All of the soreness hit me like a freight train, I quickly realized I had used muscles that hadn’t been worked out properly in a while. I laughed as I knew that if Clark knew how out of shape I was then he would have my ass in a sling. Working out would be an understatement if he thought I wasn’t prepared to defend myself. The laugh quickly turned into tears and I allowed only a few to fall before I shook my head to stop them and got out of my shower.

*Flashback* -5 years ago

“You will end up exhausted and defeated if that is your fighting strategy.”

“Excuse me mister ‘ I get my strength from the Sun’. All of us aren’t so lucky.”

Clark looks down at me from his spot hovering over me as I laid on the grass, panting from running up the side of a mountain that Clark had flown us to. I can tell he is highly amused at the state of my pain. His gym shorts and old t-shirt looks hardly disturbed, not even sweating, and he had long since put his baseball cap in my bag for safe keeping. He had only worn it while flying to avoid detection cameras seeing his face.

“ Hey you asked for this. I already told you if you want out to the public to help them, you need to be ready.”

“My powers are growing every day.”

“Exactly but you still need your endurance and strength.” He says almost exasperated, or at least as much as he could sound.

“You see this is on that bullshit.”

Clark smiles at me and offers me his hand. I let him pull me up. He was used to my foul language by now. I bent down and grabbed a bottle of water from my small book bag. I was ready to come out of the blue tank top and black yoga pants. It was hot as the sun shines down on the hill we had run up together to stand on top of.

“Gia you know as well as I do this is necessary.”

“My power...”

“ I don't want you to rely on it. Gia please don’t fight me on this. If I take you on the field with me I need you to keep yourself safe. You’ve come too far for you to endanger your life by not being prepared. Besides who else am I going to get my free coffee from in the mornings.”

I laughed while sitting the bottle down.

“I knew only kept me around for the free Coffee.”

I was working as a barista at a local coffee shop around the corner from the Daily Planet. It had been a few months since Clark had rescued me and helped me get back on my feet. We rode into town together and he mostly always made sure I made it home again. I had been in a bad way once he saved me, but he hadn’t given up on me. Neither him or his mother had ever treated me badly. Even his girlfriend Lois had been nice to me and treated me with the dignity I felt I lost over the years. Some things still scared me, like Men walking too close, loud noises, etc.

I had gotten a job as soon as I could despite Clark and his mother Martha telling me to rest and get back on my feet.

“Gia I keep you around for a lot more than coffee. I hope you know that.”

He was looking at me and I felt the breeze flow over me, a slight relief from the hot sun that didn’t affect Clark in the slightest.

“Sure you do. You don’t have to butter me up to get me to exercise.”

I laughed attempting to deflect the serious tone the conversation had taken but Clark didn’t let that happen.

“Really Gia I mean it. I think you underestimate how special you are.”

I ignored how tight my stomach felt, my heartbeat racing.

For the last month or so I had begun developing feelings for Clark. I didn’t want to and I was sure this was some sort of transfer of emotions where I was bonding to my rescuer. Trauma bonds or some sort shit like that. I knew he loved Lois. The special smile he reserved for her wasn’t something I wanted to ruin for them. Clark deserves someone like Lois who had her shit together. Not some clusterfuck of a person who as of a handful of months ago didn’t even really know who she was. Besides, he was my best friend I couldn’t lose him, who else would I have?

“If I could blush Clark I would be red. Now that you are done with the pep talk let’s finish this exercising-slash- murdering the trainee thing you’ve got me doing. I think Mrs. Kent promised to make her Meatloaf again and you know how I feel about her meatloaf.”

“She hears you calling her Mrs. Kent instead of Martha she will have your head and there will be no Meatloaf for you. That and I will probably eat it all just to spite you.”

He jokes and starts running away from me as I roll my eyes and go to hit his arm. Of course I can only catch him if he allows it but it’s good fun anyway.

Just like that Clark Kent was in my friend-zone again, exactly where I needed to keep him.

*End Flashback*

I pulled on black yoga pants and a black sport bra, I was about to pull my shirt over my head when I felt the energy dynamics shift in my hallway. I flicked off my bathroom light as I heard the doorknob to my front door open to someone who clearly didn’t have a key. The ordered footsteps of trained and multiple men should have been silent but weren’t to me.

I shifted to be invisible, knowing my energy was low from a long day of fighting and tears worth of little to no practice, only fine tuning of my powers. I was for damn sure not about to be taken or killed by whomever this was. Fear gripped my heart as I realized my son was only down the hall. They could have been coming for him too. I thought I had the advantage of being invisible as I rounded the hallway to the living room. I didn’t count them having heat detection goggles. The force of 15 men in my apartment alone all aimed guns directly at me. An invisible shield that would ricochet any bullets went up but I held my hands up anyway. Stray bullets put my son in danger.

“Property number 578. We are here to bring you back to where you belong, science has more work on you yet. Easy or hard way Ms. Smith.”

“Nah I think I rather not. Tell whoever you work for to go fuck themselves.”

“Hard way it is then.”

It was a quick hand motion but it was all I needed as a heads up. The guns went off loud and banging against the shield. Bouncing off and striking some of them down, the rounds ended and I wasn’t prepared for the rush of someone's body slamming into mine. The bodily force knocked me off my feet and we crashed into a wall, or better yet we went through it. They began punching whoever was on top of me, tossing them into the darkness of my apartment. I held my hand out, the electricity flying from the nearby light socket onto my hands. I shot it out tossing a few men back. I wasn’t going to last very long even with borrowing energy from the building. I knew I had to get to my son, I could at least hold a force field for that long, maybe long enough to call for help. I blasted through the hallway, doing my best to toss up a field, but I knew it wasn’t as strong as it should have been. I felt a sharp pain in my abdomen and I yelled falling to the floor, not far from Ms. A’s door, my hand came away from my lower abdomen, blood staining it. With no time to think I tossed my hands up I held the strong field I could in front of us and the door. The lights flickering as I pulled power from the building. I was feeling faint but I couldn’t give up! I heard a growl of anger and started flying into walls and ceilings.

“All these men and one woman, bunch of pussies. Seems you are looking for a fight, I’m here to give it to y’all.”

Vision hazy, I saw Arthur minus his Atlantis uniform, fighting men like there was no tomorrow. A one man army of Alantian strength, the bullets and fists do not match against him. Quicker than I could see he had gotten rid of them and was hovering over me, knowing my son was safe I dropped my shield.

“Bruce get Barry over here NOW!”

“K..Kalen. Protect Kalen”

Arthur held one hand against my bleeding abdomen, coughing and coughing.

“Come on Gia relax for me. Stay calm Calvary is coming. You are losing a lot of blood. Where is Kalen?” He asked me to look around. The soft look on his face in direct contrast with the leather and long hair.

“Apartment *cough* 2D *cough*”

Tears were streaming down my face as Barry came to a screeching halt in front of me.

“Barry can you lift her? I need to get her boy.”

I started coughing more, wanting to yell for him to come out of the apartment but I didn’t have much of a voice.

“I can try. Not exactly the paragon of strength here.”

“Bruce has everything she needs but if we don’t stop the bleeding she doesn’t stand a chance.”

Barry presses his ear.

“Bruce says he’s 10 minutes out.”

Barry leaves my side and comes back less than a second later with towels from my apartment.

I felt him press down while Arthur goes to the Apartment I directed to him earlier, knocking. I was sure they wouldn’t open it for someone that looked like a shady looking biker. He waited a minute before he sighed and kicked it open. I heard yelling and a loud ding as apparently Ms. A hit him with something metal and kept hitting him.

“Would you calm down your old bat?! Gia is right outside!!!!”

“Who is Gia?! You won’t be taking us you damn heathen!”

“Kalen’s mom. She’s hurt in the hallway, and would you stop hitting me with that damn pot! Clearly it’s not working.”

I tried to laugh but only succeeded in coughing up blood a little.

“Arthur, she is not looking so hot out here.”

Ms. A’s head came around the door-frame, Kalen on her hip as his face was all red and covered with tears.

“Oh my god Tiffany!!!!” She came over to me, careful not to put her weight on me and not let Kalen do it either although he was screaming for me.

“Don’t let him see me like this. Get them out of here...”

I said with a raspy voice. Thankfully Bruce came down the hall, Diana in tow they heard my request.

“I know you do not know us, but I promise we are here to help her. We will take you somewhere safe. Trust us.”

Ms. A gave my hand one last squeeze and let herself be led out by Diana. Bruce came hovering over me.

“Gia I need you to stay conscious.”

My side felt like it was on fire and I was confused as to how he knew I was sleepy.

“Save Kalen.”

I was drifting out into even more confusion, but Bruce slaps me back into wakefulness.

“We’ve got to get the bullet out. Barry and Arthur you are going to have to hold her still.”

He pulls out tools, I scream as they pierce the open wound in search of the bullet that was apparently still lodged in it.

“Aghhhh!!!”

The scream caused several residents to open their doors in even more concern than the gunshots.

“That was loud.” Barry says

“That was just the tip of the iceberg. Last time I heard her yell, she shattered windows.” Bruce said.

“We’ve got to get her to the plane and back to the compound.”

“Gia?! What happened to her?” I didn’t have it in me to be frustrated with his arrival. It was comforting to me to hear his voice. He was dressed normally, which surprised me because he never shows any of his powers in street wear.

“Cc..l..Clark.”

“Ssshhh. Gia it’s okay.” His voice was gentle and he wipes the tears off my face with one hand.

“She is bleeding internally. She is already healing but not fast enough. I’ll have to cauterize the area. It will be enough to stabilize her.”

“Gia hold on to my hand.”

I grabbed it with our fingers interlinking, some of his energy flowing into me from our direct contact. His eyes began to glow red and shot into my abdomen, I screamed bloody murder causing the doors the rattle on their frames, surprisingly I didn’t pass out.

“Let's get her out of here.” Bruce comes over to lift me but Clark just pulls me up into his arms. I fall into the comfort of his smell and the warmth of his embrace.

I was certain I would never experience this again, especially when all hell was about to break loose...

A/N: Now that Gia almost died, will she be more willing to give Clark a listen?

Thank you for reading and support! As always my taglist is open for this story!

TAGLIST

@bloodyinspiredfuck @romyr4

#Henry Cavill #henry cavill x black ofc #henry cavill x ofc #Clark Kent #SUPERMAN X OFC #superman #DCFilms #fanfiction

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xaphrin · 5 years

Text

Abuse My Love a Thousand Times

“A clean bill of health.” Shirayuki placed the form in front of Obi for him to sign, making notes in his file. The pen scratched almost loudly against the pristine paper, her handwriting looking like awkward, loopy swirls. “As always.”

“I’m not entirely sure why we’re made to have these weekly check-ups. It’s not like I can even get human diseases.” Obi sighed and handed the paper back to her, his eyes flashing a bright gold before he adjusted the cuff on his ear. The spell flickered for just a moment, before settling back into place, showing his olive skin and dark, almond eyes. He cocked his head to the side and stared at her. “It’s just costing the house more money to keep having you come out here.”

“It’s the law for human and fae. Fairness across the board for any redlight workers.” She paused and made another note, glancing back into his face with a stern expression. “And you aren’t immune to magic diseases, you know. Don’t forget about the outbreak of Dark Dust two years ago. Two of your workers ended up at the clinic and it took them nearly a month to treat them.” Shirayuki checked off her notes. “Besides, it’s not just illness we’re worried about. Mental health is just as important, and you’re not one to admit when something happened, or something is upsetting you.” She glanced over at him, a heartbeat’s pause resting heavily between them. “I worry about you. You need to take better care of yourself. Let me know if you need… help. I’m here for you.”

“I take care of myself just fine. I’ve been here two years, and I’m all together - as far as I know.” He gave a one-shouldered shrug and looked away, pretending to be more interested in a faded picture on the wall. “My job could be worse. At least I’m not working in the docks down by the river, and I have my own money and my own place, and sometimes I even have friends. Which is way more than I had two years ago. Plus, I get to eat my fill every single night… no more prowling around university bars looking for sorority sisters blasted out of their mind. People come begging for a taste of paradise.”

Shirayuki watched him, her eyes wide as he spoke. It felt like he was trying to remind himself that there were good things in his life, and that the darkness he worked so hard to conceal wasn’t real. Standing there, she felt like she was trying to discern who he was before this moment. She could hear strange notes infiltrate his voice, almost like a longing, but also a bit like a pep-talk. It sounded almost as if he was reminding himself of all the things he did have, just to make him forget about the things he didn’t. He adjusted the cuff on his ear again, and the spell flickered. Shirayuki found herself questioning whether it had been damaged during a particularly rough client, but then realized it was none of her business who he slept with. It was his job.

“And what about you, Mistress?” His voice dripped with curiosity, to the point it nearly stung her. “What about taking care of yourself? You could work in any of the fine human hospitals in the rich neighborhoods, and yet you’re over here slumming it in the fae redlight for pennies - checking cocks and pussies for Dark Dust.” He let go of a cynical bark of laughter. “Honestly, you’re much better than this, and I’d have thought you’d run far away by now.” He pitched forward and rested his chin in his hand, as if expecting a secret. “Come on now, tell me that you’ve finally found somewhere more interesting to go? Tell me you finally caved and signed that big contract for Wilant Memorial.”

“I haven’t and you know that, so stop teasing me about it.” She gave him a tilted smile. “Besides, you’re the most interesting part of my day.” She glanced at her phone, checking the time. Yuzuri had another twenty minutes left on her tab with Suzu.

“She’s still upstairs.” Obi cocked his head to the side as if he was listening through the walls. “They’re finished if you want me to go grab Yuzuri?”

Shirayuki flushed and shook her head. It was unnerving how adept fae hearing was. “No. Absolutely not. Let them have their time together, she doesn’t get to see him as often anymore.”

“Not since she transferred to a human hospital?” His voice held a low, questioning lilt. “Like you should?”

Shirayuki ignored the jab. “Your shift doesn’t start for a bit, right?”

“Mm…” Obi checked his phone and nodded. “I have an appointment in an hour or so. So, i’ve got a bit of time I can kill.” He offered a broad, teasing grin. “My first client is a half-orc with-”

Shirayuki held up her hand, her heart dropping into her stomach. She hated when Obi teased her like this. “Please don’t. Spare me the details. Besides, you know I’m not supposed to know about your clients. You have an NDA, and I… I don’t want to hear about it anyway.”

“I’m only teasing.” Obi Shrugged and stood up, shoving his hands in his jean pockets. “A human, actually. Some kind of bachelorette dare, I’m sure.” He pitched his voice high, a pantomime of a girl. “You just gotta try an incubus at least once. They’re the best.”

“People do not say that.”

Obi scoffed. “Mistress, you can’t tell me that when you were all stressed and tensed up from studies in med school that there wasn’t at least one girl suggesting you head down to your local redlight and take a tumble with an incubus?” His grin widened and he pitched forward, resting his hand on the table. “I’m told it’s better than really good weed. High for days with a nice, slow decline back to earth.”

He… actually wasn’t wrong. There had been one of the girls in her undergrad class who spent her all her free time with an incubus a few grades below them. She ended up flunking out of pre-med, and Shirayuki had vowed never to come within ten feet of an incubus. Her eyes flicked to Obi’s playful stare, and she flushed. That resolution hadn’t exactly worked out in her favor. Now, she spent time with him every week, and it was getting harder and harder to remember why she shouldn’t get involved with him. Especially when he gave her that tilted, knowing smile.

Shirayuki rolled her eyes and closed his file, pretending to ignore his comment. “Well, you’re free and I’m waiting to walk home with Yuzuri, so… let’s do something together. Let’s get out of here for a bit then. I’ll buy you a drink?” Shirayuki placed the file in the cabinet in the back of the office, locking it. “It’s been awhile since we talked… outside of the house. And as friends.”

Obi gave a dramatic gasp, pressing his hand against his chest. “You’re looking to talk with me? Outside of the house? Be still my heart.”

God. He could be such a drama queen sometimes. She started for the door. “Are you coming or not?”

“I’m coming. I’m coming. Hold your horses.” He chased after her, and Shirayuki turned around to see his cuff fall from his ear. Obi cursed and he snatched it up from the carpet with a low growl, examining it to see how he could jerry-rig it together for a little longer. “Dammit. I’ve been having the worst trouble with this stupid thing since last week. I’m going to have to ask Ryu if he can make me a new one. The spell is getting testy too.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Shirayuki rested her hand on his wrist, stopping his movements. “Leave it off. We’ll go to a fae-friendly bar. You don’t need to wear it, I know the spell itches anyway.”

“You’d be willing to go out with a fae?”

“Obi, we’ve been friends for years now.” She leaned closer to him and rubbed her thumb along the pointed tip of his ear, as if she was trying to smooth out the indent the cuff had given him. “Besides, you look fine just the way you are.”

Beautiful, actually.

“You’re one of only a handful of people who think that, you know.” Obi looked down at his forearms, his skin a dark blue-gray and flecked with the same shimmering gold that matched his eyes, like freckles masquerading as constellations. He glanced back at her, lifting an eyebrow in a low tease. “Typically I charge extra to take the cuff off. My skin isn’t the only thing that changes.”

Shirayuki flushed and turned away, knowing that he could never let her live it down if he saw the embarrassment in her face. “Now you’re flaunting like a peacock.”

“Exactly.” He snapped his fingers. “My cock.”

Ignoring him, Shirayuki made her way down the street, feeling him follow her, his steps nearly silent on the pavement. His eyes darted around them both, as if he were expecting someone to come out and make some kind of off-handed comment or slur. In the few years since Shirayuki had known Obi, he had been overly cautious of going out without a glamor spell. There was a history behind him that she tried to understand, but he kept himself as closed off as possible. It was easy to fuck someone and drain them of their sexual desire, but opening to a friend seemed damn near impossible for him.

She’d only seen him without his cuff a few times, but he was beautiful. His skin reminding her of a dark night in the mountains, galaxies painted onto his skin. He was just so… otherworldly. Which, she realized, was a bit of a slur.

“You’re deep in thought.” Obi’s voice cut through the noise in her mind, a low rumble of noise running down her spine. “Anything interesting going on in that head of yours?”

She forced her own mind up for air, pushing a few locks of hair from her eyes. “Mm, just thinking… about you.” She followed him into the bar a few doors down from the house, taking in a diverse crowd. Two dwarves were playing a card game in the back, yelling at each other about rules, and a tall, graceful elf was unfolding herself from a booth. A sign above the bar noting Sirens not allowed to perform on karaoke night! “You never take your cuff off. I was just thinking about it.”

“Ah, Mistress. It’s probably best if you just leave that particular thought be. You know as well as I do that there are stories you shouldn’t ask.” He settled them down into a small table tucked in the front corner, by the window. A gorgon waitress wearing ultra-dark sunglasses took their order, and she stared at Shirayuki as if she was trying to place her from somewhere.

“She’s the girl on the bus benches,” Obi supplied helpfully, his grin widening. “You might have seen her with a sharpie mustache of some kind. Or big glasses.”

Shirayuki flushed, giving Obi a sharp stare. That was not what she wanted to be known for, to become some kind of token in the mayor’s campaign for more robust human-fae relations, but Zen had talked her into it. He said it was good to place a non-political face with their campaign, but Shirayuki had doubts. Putting her face on their campaign made it political, and that was not what she wanted. She didn’t want to be a token character just to make the Wistalias look good, she just wanted to help out the neighborhood.

“Ah.” Thankfully, the gorgon seemed completely disinterested, took their order and turned around, leaving them without another word.

“You don’t have to point that out to every fae.” Shirayuki sighed and pushed a lock of hair behind her ear, glaring at him. “It’s not that big of a deal, you know. And I didn’t even really want to be a part of it. Zen is just… persuasive sometimes. And it’s hard to say no to him.”

Obi looked like he wanted to point something out, but managed to keep his thoughts to himself. “Ah, come on, Mistress. You’re like a local celebrity around here - brilliant doctor with ties to political royalty, but who spends her time in the fae neighborhood clinic, working for chump-change and checking the redlight district for STIs.” He propped his chin up on one hand and smiled at her, as if he knew a secret no one else did. “And yet somehow keeps her purity.”

Shirayuki burned and nearly choked on her water. Color curled up her neck and she looked away. “Obi!”

His grin widened, almost playful, and his white teeth practically shimmered against the darkness of his skin. He pitched forward, the playful glint in his eyes brightening. “Incubus, Mistress. You can’t keep anything from me. Not when it comes to sex, anyway.”

Shirayuki sniffed, suddenly feeling indignant. “I’ve… been with people before.”

He lifted an eyebrow, as if he didn’t quite believe her, but knew better than to press. “Oh, I’m sure, but… not for a while, right? Not since… mm, let me guess…” He took a deep breath, as if tasting something on the air. “...undergrad?”

Her cheeks burned darker, her stomach twisting. He could be a real jerk when he wanted to. She looked away and fidgeted with the hem of her shirt. It wasn’t like she hadn’t thought about having sex with someone, she wasn’t completely oblivious to her body’s needs, it was just that she hadn’t really met the right person. She’d get back at it when someone interesting came along. Her eyes flicked to Obi’s angular face for just a moment before looking out the window. It would be better not to travel down that path.

“What I don’t get…” Obi’s voice turned conversational, and the gorgon returned with their order, placing it on the table. He waited until she had left before speaking again. “...is how you spend all this time at the house, examining up learning our ticks and preferences, and yet you’ve never once… sampled the wares. I mean, we’re literally there to be used. Come in, pay your dues, and get a ride. That’s how it works, Mistress.”

“That’s not true, Obi. And, I wished you wouldn’t it say it like that.” Shirayuki’s face scrunched up and she gave him a firm look, letting him know that his self-deprecating attitude needed to stop. Her heart ached when he talked about himself like that - like he was just a thing. And not for the first time, she wished she knew more about it, if only to understand him a little bit better. “You’re not just some kind of tool meant to be used and then tossed aside. You’re a person, with your own feelings and emotions, not just a thing used for sex.”

Obi made a face as if there was something to her words that might have hit their mark. He glanced away, letting silence slide over them as he tried to control the conversation again. “That still didn’t answer my question though.” His eyes darkened a shade and he leaned forward across the small table. “Why don’t you sample the wares?”

She sighed, her eyes lifting towards his again. “I’m your doctor, Obi.”

“Doesn’t matter.” He shrugged. “Yuzuri left the clinic, and she still returns to tumble in the sheets with a frost elf.”

Shirayuki’s face fell and she laughed. “She likes Suzu, you know.”

He looked out the window, pretending to be interested in something on the other side of the street. There was a heavy silence that settled over them before he spoke, his words muffled by the sound of the dwarves arguing again. “You could find someone to like too.”

“I like you.” That came out far too breathy and wistful. But if Obi noticed, he chose not to point it out. It was a small kindness.

“Ah, Mistress. That’s not what I mean. Friends are different than lovers.” His smile tilted to the side and he paused, as if running through a few scenarios through his head. They were likely the kinds of things she had seen shoved on corner store shelves - My Daring Incubus had been one she bought on a whim, but couldn’t find the nerve to crack it open. He met her eyes and hummed. “Though I’d be happy to show you around the depths of my room, if you ever get curious.”

Shirayuki shook her head, giving him a flat stare. “You’re just looking for a free meal.”

“You’re not wrong.” His smile never faltered, but Shirayuki noticed the flecks of gold along his skin turned an iridescent silver, and she stared at them watching the thin light of the bar catch the change.

It was with a strange and sudden clarity that she realized why he wore his cuff at all times - his skin was a tell. Under the cloak of the spell, Obi could charm and lie, and make everyone believe whatever he wanted. But without the spell, there was nothing to stop her from reading the bioluminescence flickering along his skin. She blinked and stared along his forearm, watching as the silver turned pale yellow, and then back into bright gold. When she glanced back into Obi’s face, he was looking away from her, pulling the long sleeves of his t-shirt over his arm.

“We should finish our drinks and head back.” His voice was soft, as if he knew that she figured out his tell. “I’m sure Yuzuri is almost done, and I should wash up before my client shows. You know humans, they like a clean boy.”

“Right.” Shirayuki muttered and swallowed most of her drink in one gulp, if only to avoid looking at Obi and talking. What did all of that mean? Did he not think of sex with her like a meal? It should have been. She was just his doctor, and barely his friend - although that wasn’t due to lack of trying on her part. In all the time she’d known him, he had never quite opened up to her. She thought that he just wasn’t interested, but maybe it was more than that. Maybe there was something else. Maybe he really was trying to guard himself from her.

The walk back to the house was awkward and tense, but Obi did his best to try and fill it with some kind of conversation. Shirayuki felt as though her world tipped on its side, and she watched him from the corner of her eye, chattering away like nothing had happened in the bar. Of course something had happened, and now it felt like it was changing everything between them all over again. She didn’t want that, not when she wasn’t ready.

She’d be damned if she let him throw up walls again. It had taken nearly two years to get him to feel comfortable around her, and she didn’t want to lose that connection. “We should go out again.”

Obi jerked, stopping mid-sentence. There was a long moment as he turned toward her, obviously trying to understand her meaning. “Like, on a date?”

Yes. But maybe she shouldn’t admit that yet. Shirayuki gave a thin smile and shrugged. “As friends. Your whole life doesn’t have to be the house, and our relationship doesn’t have to revolve around the clinic.”

He blinked, still surprised. “Wouldn’t the mayor and his brother… not like that? That you’d be out on a date with a redlight incubus, and not just checking his cock at the clinic?”

Shirayuki reeled back a little, surprised at the question. Her mind suddenly felt tangled, as if she was trying to find the reason behind that question, but her thoughts just kept getting tied up in knots. What did Izana and Zen have anything to do with her personal life? “They’re the one campaigning for better fae-human relations. Besides, I don’t see how it matters. I’m not even in their immediate thoughts most of the time.”

Obi’s eyebrows knit together, as if he didn’t quite believe her. “Aren’t you dating Zen?”

Shirayuki jerked back, her heart falling into her stomach. “What?”

“Dating Zen.” He kept staring at her, as if waiting for her to admit this whole thing was a joke. “I mean, that’s what the whole city thinks, you know.” He paused outside the side door to his house, shoving his hands in his jeans to search for his cuff. It was like a security blanket to him, and he and shoved it on his, his blue-gray skin instantly glamored by magic - and masking his tell. “It’s the whole, beautiful prince saves sweet human princess from an attack, and she returns by healing his injuries. I mean the whole city has been talking about it for months. That’s why the neighborhood thinks you’re going to close up the clinic and head out to Wilant hospital. We’re all talking about it.”

“You are not. And that scenario is ridiculous.” Shirayuki gave him a flat stare, shifting her purse on her shoulder. “I doubt that anyone really thinks that, and I can’t imagine that anyone would be all that interested in my personal life. Zen is just a friend, and this whole campaign is so Izana can score a few more points in the polls.”

Obi just shrugged, but there was a tension sliding under his skin, as if he didn’t want to talk about Shirayuki and Zen together. “Suit yourself.”

“I’m not dating Zen.” Frustration bubbled up in her chest as she repeated herself. “I’m his… his token human.” She flushed, fidgeting again. Saying it out loud made it even more awkward, but it was the truth. “I’m just there to make him and Izana look good.”

“Mm.” Obi’s response was noncommittal.

That made her angry. Obi was never at a loss for words - unless he wanted to be. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. It’s just an mm.”

Shirayuki sighed, and she crossed her arms over her chest, glaring at him. “With you, it’s never just an mm.”

“I just think that based on the way Zen dotes on you, he probably thinks there’s more to the two of you than you do.” Obi shrugged. “Besides, think of how good it looks - his mother was a charming wood-elf socialite and philanthropist, his father a human from a political dynasty, and now he’s got a brilliant human girlfriend who helps the poor, disenfranchised fae. It’s political gold. Even if he doesn’t have feelings for you - which he probably does - you’re the perfect little campaign accessory.”

Her lips twitched, and her eyes narrowed. His words hit too close to her heart, and it nicked something inside her. She could feel her emotions start to bleed out, mixing with poison, and she took a slow breath, hoping he didn’t see the tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. “Now you’re just being a jerk. I don’t even know how you come up with these dumb ideas.”

“Yeah? A dumb idea?” His anger spiked and he glared at her, his eyes dark. “Any idiot can see this for what it is, Shirayuki.” He reached up and adjusted the cuff on his ear, as if worried the spell would wear off and she could see his tell. “At least I’m not the one wasting her brilliant life by being a white savior to the poor fae.”

Shirayuki stepped back, feeling a bit like she’d been slapped. Her ears burned with the force of his words and she wasn’t even sure if she heard him right. Obi couldn’t… couldn’t really think that. Could he? His words cut deep, and a tear roll down her cheek before she could stop it. She rubbed the heel of her hand over the trail, blinking and swallowing his words as if they were poison. “Is that… is that what you really think? That I’m just in this to try and save you? From what?”

“Why else would you be here? You have a million other opportunities outside of this hellhole.”

“I’m here because it’s the right thing to do. Because this neighborhood needs help and care just like the rest of the city.” She glared at him, feeling another tear roll over her cheek. She wiped it away and glared at him. “Because I care about you.”

Obi winced and turned away from her, clenching his fist at his side. There was a long stretch of silence and she started for the door, ignoring the mess he’d left in his wake. Shirayuki wanted to chase after him, to demand he apologize, but she didn’t. She just stood there hoping that maybe he’d realize what he’d done before he crossed the threshold of the house.

He didn’t.

“Look, I’ve got to get to work, and Yuzuri is waiting for you in the lobby. Go home.” Pause. “Or, better yet, go back to your socialite not-boyfriend and leave.” It was a command for her, a warning that he was upset and angry and hurt, but like her. They had both said things that had a painful amount of truth, and Shirayuki was left guard her suddenly tender heart. Without another word, he disappeared into the entrance, but Shirayuki didn’t follow. She knew better than to chase him when they were both mad.

And right now, they were both furious.

#obiyuki #shirayuki #obi #urban fae au #xaph's birthday 2019 #in which this is a day early #and I quote Led Zeppelin ... because why not?

34 notes · View notes

i4z-0892-il · 6 years

Text

Monster House 4

Summary: Posing as Newlyweds Sam and Y/n set out to investigate what’s killing the visitors of a secluded Inn, and attempt to keep their working relationship professional.

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Word count: 4561

Warnings: NSFW, 18+ Only, suggestive themes, language

A/N: TROPES. HAPPY VALENTINE’S DAY MY LOVES!!!

Buy Sam’s Scent Here from @scentsfromthebunker (And damn does it smell goooooood)

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Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4

Removing the holster and your gun from your thigh you reluctantly handed it back to Sam who tucked the small arsenal he brought into his backpack. The Inn was less than a quarter mile away, and you’d made it back to the main path, there was no point staying strapped.The venture was frustrating in that it had turned up virtually nothing. Maybe you should have decided to try to follow the guy you’d heard. He couldn’t have gone far when you left the cabin. But it was getting dark, and you’d rather shoot yourself in the foot than stay in those woods after nightfall. The wilderness felt the same as the woods from your childhood, and you’d learned your lesson then. You weren’t taking chances now. Not when you were basically flying blind. No amount of money could have kept you out there.

Sam backed up your play to regroup, try again tomorrow when you had all day to traipse around the woods. Though it was quite possible the only reason he backed you up on the choice was because you were most definitely a little freaked. A little more freaked than usual on hunts. Thinking about it he’d only ever seen you downright skittish a handful of times. It was always in the woods. Previously he made it out to be a fear of Wendigo’s which was more than justified, now he wasn’t as convinced.

However the closer you got to the Inn the less thrilled you were to be back and out of the cold. The ping-pong of not wanting to be inside the Inn that was creepy, and filled with weirdly flirtatious staff where you were expected to participate in some dumb fucking class, but also not wanting to stay in the living, breathing, threatening woods was simply frustrating. Much like earlier at check-in Sam found himself practically pushing you through the door again. Usually you didn’t have this problem, you were a hunter, you were supposed to be brave and fearless and not a giant ball of knotted up anxiousness. But you just couldn’t shake it, whatever it was. There was a looming shadow that was screaming at you from the back of your mind to stay alert. Your instincts were telling you run, run very far away and not to come back.

Once Sam had successfully shoved you inside you allowed yourself to relax a little. It was nice and warm, there was a fire going in the massive fireplace in the parlor making everything cozy and less intimidating. Not to mention the fact that a certain Raven-Haired Aphrodite wasn’t fawning all over Sam, and giving you the stink-eye. It wasn’t as if you didn’t know that you had very little room with which to marinate in your distaste. And if Sam wanted to go for that petite little thing- well who the fuck could blame him? Hell, you kinda wanted to. If you weren’t so threatened and envious of her you might! But that was simply not going to happen, you couldn’t help it. Ugh! The way she was looking at him like she could just eat him alive made you want to puke. That coupled with the fact that she didn’t acknowledge your presence in the slightest, and when she did- if looks could kill you’d have been dead as a doornail. Sorry, is his wife getting in the way of your unabashed advances, Esmeralda? Fake wife. But she didn’t know that!

It was a thin little line you were walking, and you could only imagine that the longer time you spent at the Inn where Esmeralda had the opportunity to cling to Sam the harder it would be to walk that line. You were not a jealous, possessive woman, and Sam being the grown, free man he was had every right to do as he pleased, and you’d just have to deal with it. Buuuuttttt, you were also playing Mrs. to his Mr. which granted you a little room to push back, and claim your territory. But how much is too much? Letting him in on the fact that you really were seething with disdain for her and for not so unbiased reasons was simply out of the question. This was just another job, and you’d have to just keep reminding yourself of that. The circumstances of your relationship- friendship- working professional partnership had not, and would not change. So just get it out of your head already.

Chattering from the parlor caught your attention, as Sam passed you by to head up to the room. When he realized you weren’t following him he turned on heel. You were focused on making out the noise coming from the other room, and rather than interrupt you he took the moment to take you in. He’d met many beautiful women in the past, but you were simply stunning. All he wanted to do when he was around you was drink in your image, and watch your every move. No one would call you dainty, or elegant, you were uncoordinated and clumsy half of the time. But then there would be those moments that he couldn’t get enough of. Where it was just the little things about you that were the source of the fluttering in his chest. The graceful bend of your wrist as you turned the pages of a book, and how soft your skin was even though it should have been calloused and hardened like his. The way you never seemed to be able to sit in a chair the right way, legs tucked under you or slung over the arm allowing him to appreciate the long length of them. Or when loose strands of soft hair would hang in your face begging him to push it behind your ear. How your lips curled into that playful smile that made him weak in the knees. Moreso when you’d get so caught up in your hysterics that an unflattering snort would choke you, making you lose it even more. And the crinkle at the corners of your eyes when you smiled. Your eyes, so intense and mischievous, sparkling like jewels in the light. Even the way you’d chew on your fingernails, or tap them on any surface when you were nervous, left him in awe. He could watch you move, just do any random thing, for all time and it wouldn’t be long enough.

Clearing his throat he brought your attention back to him. “You coming?”

“Yeah.” You answered aloof, turning your head back to the parlor, not quite ready to move yet. “Yeah, I’ll be up in a minute. You go, I’ll catch up.”

There wasn’t much opportunity for him to answer, your focus had shifted again. For as scatterbrained as you could be you also possessed an unparalleled ability to hyperfocus when you wanted to. Guessing this was one of those times he continued up the stairs to the room, leaving you to investigate whatever had captured your attention so hard.

Stopping at the entrance to the parlor you stayed out of sight behind the wall, you couldn’t make out what they were saying, but you were hoping if you listened intently enough you could pick up your Mystery Voice from the cabin. Two men were in there but neither of them sounded like your person of interest. And they were talking about the best year for scotch, which was something you couldn’t believe was an actual topic of conversation. A sudden tap on your shoulder jolted you back to your surroundings where you jumped with a surprised yelp. Snapping your head to the source and clutching at your chest, wide eyes landed on Derek.

“You almost gave me a heart attack!” An exaggerated sigh followed by an exasperated laugh passed your lips. He laughed with you, his hands in the air allowing you to catch your breath.

“I’m sorry Mrs. Wesson, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Don’t worry about it. Nothing like a good scare to let you know you’re alive.” You quipped. He gave you a kind smile, his eyes searching your face as if you were the most rare creature he’d ever laid eyes on, like he would scare you away if he moved too quickly. Not that you minded being ogled occasionally, but he was not being at all subtle about the eyefucking he was giving you.

“Were you waiting for Mr. Wesson?”

“No, he went up to the room to freshen up I think. We just got back from a hike, and I’m sure I could use a shower myself.” You answered with a short laugh, looking for an escape route.

“I understand. Have you been given a tour of the grounds yet?”

“Uuuhhh no, but I saw the layout online when we were deciding on where to go”

“I see, well I can assure you, the pictures online hardly do this place justice. Allow me the pleasure of showing you around?” He asked with another kind smile, misty green eyes practically begging you to just say yes. Damn, he really was handsome, and that tailored burgundy suit looked mighty fine on him too. Now you might should have declined his offer, but there was an opportunity there. He’d show you around, get the lay of the land, and you could ask him about the odd going’s-on about the Inn he helped to run.

So you put on a sweet, playful smile and agreed. “You know, I would love a tour.”

Elated he held out an elbow for you to take, like a tried and true gentleman, and you obliged by wrapping your fingers around a surprisingly firm bicep. Careful Y/n, you are supposed to be married. Derek escorted you room to open room giving a brief history of the place. None of the details were of much interest, but he talked with so much passion that you would have felt terrible about interrupting him to ask about the dead bodies being found.

The final room at the Inn was the ballroom. The place had a fucking ballroom. Of course it did. You probably shouldn’t have expected otherwise given the fact that this place was old and built by some filthy rich family. Even still you found yourself in awe, the ornate carvings in the wood, and crystal chandeliers was enough to make you speechless. The building was unsettling enough but damn if it was not impressive. And impressed you were, gold filigree inlay, and immaculate paintings in the panels of the curved ceiling, left you breathless. It was truly beautiful. You weren’t aware that your mouth had fallen into an ‘o’ until Derek spoke up and pulled you out of your enchanted trance.

“A sight to behold, I know. Mr. Wellington truly spared no expense. He used to throw very lavish parties for only the most elite of the elite, or if you were very beautiful. The Gala he threw for his Wedding Anniversary to his wife was the event of the season.” Derek said, turning his eyes to you as he finished his sentence.

“I’m sure it was quite the party.” Dropping your hand from his arm you stepped into the room that was much bigger than you could have anticipated to look around. Each eye catching detail more precise and intricate than the last.

“It was, people would come from all over the country, if they were invited. It was a very exclusive and highly revered event. We carry on the tradition still today.”

“Really? You host a massive party for the 1%?” You asked, your tone a little flatter than you had intended, but it pulled a chuckle from him.

“Yes and no. It’s no longer a gathering of only the most prestigious of people, but it is still a very large event. Though I can’t lie and say that some very high-profile people attend every year. You will be there won’t you?” He implored, and you snorted.

“Well, Derek, I’m flattered. But my invitation must have gotten lost in the mail.”

“Au contraire, no invitation necessary, and it’s on Thursday.” He stated matter-of-factly. You smiled with an understanding, albeit defeated, nod. Of course it was Thursday, this Thursday. It couldn’t have been any other Thursday through the year. Nope. Had to be the most inconvenient timing. Just your luck.

“Ah, so that’s what the Dancing night on the itinerary meant. I’m not much of a dancer, sadly.”

“Oh I don’t believe that at all Mrs. Wesson. I’d be happy to teach you a few steps.”

“Y/n, please. Mrs. Wesson is just a little too formal for my tastes.” You suggested, in truth you just weren’t sure you’d be able to answer to another name as seamlessly as Dean or Sam could. They were pro’s at the whole fake identity thing, and while you certainly weren’t stranger to it yourself, the ‘Mrs.’ part sent you for a loop. It just sounded strange.

“Y/n, what a lovely name. I must warn you, since I seem to have caught you by surprise- it is a formal event. Black tie.” He said before taking your hand and placing it in the crook of his arm continuing the tour through the back and out to the gardens.

Fuck. Black tie? That was going to be a problem, you were going to have to put your hopes into solving the case before then, because there was no way you were cramming yourself in some cocktail dress and high heels. That simply was not going to do. Although the idea of Sam in a tux was not in the slightest off-putting. But then you’d be expected to do Gala things like dancing and mingling and smiling. And none of that sounded like something you’d willingly involve yourself in.

The fresh floral aroma hit you like a wall the second you stepped into the gardens. Every single plant and topiary was meticulously cared for and it showed. There were flowers you’d never even seen before, big and bright and colorful. A beautiful stone pathway led around the garden to the center where a massive fountain was, filled with Koi fish and lily pads. Large, detailed marble statues were placed strategically about the area, giving the whole place a whimsical and enchanted feel.

“Wow. Mr. Wellington sure liked his plants too, huh?”

“He did, or more Mrs. Wellington did, so he had this constructed for her.” He pointed up to a large set of windows at the center of the Inn. “That was their room there, and he wanted her to be able to wake up to the sight of something beautiful every morning.”

“Well isn’t that just adorable. Giant Anniversary party, a garden dedicated to her, she must have been pretty special.”

“That she was. He loved her deeply. When she died he was so heartbroken he fell into despair and died not long after her. Quite tragic. They watched all five of their children succumb to the plague, before it claimed Mrs. Wellington.” Derek explained.

“Bummer.” You replied. Sam was the empathetic one, you not so much. Not that it wasn’t a sad story, but they were all sad stories. “And Mr. Wellington, he died of the plague too, I read.”

“No. He died of a broken heart.” Derek answered turning icy green eyes to you. It took much effort to control your face, because you could have laughed.

Died of a broken heart. Not that it was unheard of, and you knew full well that it was an actual thing. But it didn’t make it any less silly to think of. Maybe it was just you being callous, or maybe it was because you’d never been in love so you couldn’t imagine what losing someone like that would have felt like. Well, maybe that wasn’t entirely true, but there was no way you’d let yourself admit it, let alone actually feel it.

Having unpacked the weapons he brought on your little hiking trip back in their designated spot Sam was getting a little antsy in the room by himself. Mostly he was just wondering what was taking you so long. Not that he should have been concerned, you were a big girl who knew how to take care of herself. There were many times where you had to split up on a hunt, gathering intel, breaking into evidence lockers and so on, this shouldn’t have been any different. It wasn’t. He just had to reaffirm that point in his head. This was no different than any other hunt you’d been on with him in the past. The cover was the only thing that had changed, and he most certainly wasn’t actually married to you, so he couldn’t have possibly missed your presence.

Pressing an arm against the frame of the window he peered outside, looking down at the sprawling gardens below where he caught sight of you immediately. You were cupping a peach colored rose in your hands, taking a moment to get lost in its fragrance. Watching you pulled a smile to his lips, maybe that’s what you’d have been in another life. A botanist, you had a green thumb based on the little windowsill garden you had growing in your room at the bunker. It was tiny, just a couple of herbs, but they were growing well, and he was impressed. Dean was thrilled because he had fresh spices to cook with. The moment he had to take you in was ruined almost as quickly as it had come when Derek stepped around you offering a plucked Lily.

Biting into his lip he turned away from the window making himself busy his mind on anything else. Literally anything other than the guy who was so obviously interested in his wife. Fake wife. Friend. Business Partner. Frustrated, he ran fingers through his hair and opted to take a shower rather than dwell on the fact that what he wanted from you wasn’t an option on the table. Even if you were in the slightest bit interested in kicking things up a notch there was no justifiable reason why he should. Romance never seemed to work out for him, and the inevitability of failure with you was too high a price to pay. He’d rather have you in his life just as you were than not at all. Either things would go south, or you’d wind up dead. And neither option he could live with.

Settling on that little nugget of fact was harder to digest than maybe it should have been. The heart wants what the heart wants, but he was too logical to cave into that desire. Choosing instead to pine away in silence. Though once alone in the shower with his thoughts the only thing he could think of was you. The length of your body pressed so firmly to his as he had you positioned in that tiny, little crawl-space. The feel of your breasts, warm and soft against his chest through the thin fabric of your barely-there t-shirt. And the arousing friction of your ass unintentionally grinding into his crotch.

An irritated sigh passed his lips as he turned eyes up to the ceiling. Why? Why couldn’t he just will you to the back of his head? Because of how you were perched on his lap, straddling his hip bones like he’d imagined countless times before, grinding, and rocking, and bouncing at that perfect rhythmic pace until you came undone- Baseball. Chess. The mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell. The average flying velocity of a Swallow. African or European? The capital of Georgia is Atlanta. The capital of Virginia is Richmond. And so on.

The sun was starting to set over the horizon of the Mountains, painting the sky in watercolors of peach and amber and ruby fading into a dark blue at the opposite end of the world. That stupid fucking class was going to be happening soon, and you still needed to get a shower to wash off the grime you’d collected on your hike. No doubts you were pretty ripe, if nothing else you were coated in a fine layer of a billion years worth of dust and dirt. It was time to make your graceful exit.

“So, Derek this little tour has been lovely, and particularly informative. But I should really go shower and get ready for the class tonight. And I’m sure Mr. Wesson is worried that I’ve been gone so long.” You excused yourself with a smile.

“Of course, I didn’t mean to keep you so long. Enjoy your evening, Y/n.” He replied as you backed away giving him a wave of your hand before disappearing inside.

Slipping into the room you kicked your boots carelessly into the corner of the room where the rest of your belongings were and stripped out of the army green jacket you were wearing. Rifling through the drawers of the dresser you pulled out another pair of jeans a clean shirt to wear. This was going to blow. Cooking class. You scoffed thinking about it, this was most assuredly going to end in disaster. Either you were going to light something on fire that should not be on fire, or whatever you managed to make was not going to be edible in the slightest.

The door to the bathroom creaked open and you stood ready for your turn, but Sam stepping out bare save for the towel slung low at his hips and dripping wet made your heart all but stop beating. Little beads of water rolled down the long graceful lines of his throat into his chest hair, and down the length of his stomach to his navel where the thin trail of dark hair led your eyes to the towel covering parts you were most curious about. A whimper caught in the back of your throat as blood rushed to your cheeks. Who gave him the right?

“Hey, find out anything interesting?” He asked, as if he wasn’t standing in front of you mostly naked. As if he wasn’t the most distracting thing you’d ever seen in your life. The only other time you could recall being so flustered you forgot how to word was after a workout, entire body glistening with sweat. You’d never wanted to lick the sweat off of someone’s throat before, so that was a first for you.

“Uh-huh…” You murmured, more than anything in the entire world you wanted to yank that towel away. And you could, all you had to do was just reach out, and grab it.

“Uh-huh? Plan on sharing with the class?” Sam suggested. You’d been staring just a little too long. Blinking back to reality you twisted up your face in apathetic sarcasm.

“Maybe once you put some clothes on.” You scoffed, as you grabbed your things and walked to the bathroom for an ice cold shower. Sam only watched you move about. The shift in your demeanor leaving him vexed, and a little offended. Convincing yourself that you were unbothered by him just standing there, all golden and firm, and damp, begging you to run your fingertips over miles of rolling, taut muscle. Jesus, get a hold of yourself, Y/n. Denial was your only saving grace, and you’d put your faith in the fact that you could just deny everything. That look you were giving him? It’s nothing, you couldn’t care less how naked he was. Why are you blushing? It’s hot in the room! Why are you so flustered? Because!

The water from the shower was ice cold and made you nearly jump out of your skin, but the shock certainly helped to sweep away the filthy thoughts about Sam that were on near constant replay. Honestly, it was just getting to be a tad ridiculous. You didn’t have this problem any other day of the week. Then again any other day of the week you had Dean ever present as a buffer, and a pretty solid cock block.

Every time you got close, like the night you and Sam drank an entire handle of bourbon. There was something in the texts you had in your lap that was just a little too unfamiliar for you to translate, so he leaned over your shoulders to help. Sam’s massive frame enveloping yours and drowning you in the rich smell of him, and the heat that practically vibrated off his body. The sharp line of his jaw tempting you like the mirage of an oasis in a vast desert. It would have taken nothing for you to trace your lips along the column of his throat, and with as much liquid courage as you’d imbibed it was just a matter of time. When he turned those hazel eyes to you, like sunflowers against an overcast sky, all bets were off, and you were ready to take the chance. He didn’t pull away as you leaned in, as if he had been waiting as long as you had.

Then Dean practically kicked in the heavy metal door at the top of the staircase, drunk and belting out lyrics to Walk This Way by Aerosmith. You and Sam separated like repelling magnets, the moment was washed away like it never happened.

Every. Single. Time. It was like he had an uncanny radar for when the two of you inched just a little too close together and he’d pop out of the bushes and absolutely obliterate the mood. More often than not you would be grateful for it. It helped keep things as they should be. Platonic, and professional. No reason to let a drunken mistake change anything.

The difference was that Dean wasn’t around to be neutral zone, and you didn’t have a separate room to retreat to when Sam’s presence was a little too intoxicating. You weren’t even through the first day yet, and already your willpower was faltering.

With a heaving sigh you tightened the towel around your chest and sifted through your clothes only to find your panties not where they should have been. Poking your head out the door you turned eyes to the floor where you might have dropped them.

“Looking for these?” Sam asked, seated at a table in front of one of the windows, your black lacy panties hanging from his fingers. Your whole face burned redhot, as you slipped out of the bathroom and walked over to snatch them from his hand. If he could capture that look on your face on video he’d replay it forever. A sly grin creased the dimple in his cheek as you took back your undergarment and hid away back in the bathroom without so much as a word. The thought to keep your panties had crossed his mind, especially since they were not quite what he had expected. These were sexy and though he had no doubts that no matter your choice of underwear it would be rousing, these were deliberately so. And he wanted you to know that he’d seen them, and held that satiny material in his hands. On the chance that you were wearing them to appeal to your handsome, newfound friend, Sam wanted you to think of him instead. There was plenty of opportunity for him to pocket them later, after you’d worn them.

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bytheangell · 5 years

Text

Dreaming Wide Awake: Chapter 3

(Read on AO3) (Start from the beginning)

“So, tell me the truth,” Alec says to Izzy over lunch the next day. “What did mom and dad say about Magnus coming on vacation?”

Izzy raises an eyebrow. “What makes you think they said anything? Or that I’d know about it if they did?”

Alec rolls his eyes. “Because you like to know everything . Plus, I checked your recent calls while you went to the bathroom. After I texted you that he was officially going you called mom ten minutes later.”

“How many times do I have to tell you not to touch my phone?!” Izzy demands, snatching the cell off the table in front of her as if it matters now.

“And how many times do I have to tell you to change your password? It’s your own fault.” Izzy’s password, ever since her fascination with all things science began, has been ‘992619’, the numbers of the periodic table elements which spell out ‘F U C K’. He knows better than to search through her messages or photos, or anything horribly invasive like that. She knows it, too, which is the only reason she isn’t actually mad at him for looking up her call history.

“They’re not thrilled about it,” she admits. “I think they’re mostly upset that you blindsided them with him. They couldn’t exactly say no after extending the offer to Meliorn first… but you know how they get about new people in our lives. This guy comes out of nowhere and suddenly you want to take him on the family vacation? It looks a little shady.”

Alec doesn’t have the heart to tell her that’s because it is a little shady. A part of him wants to tell Izzy the truth. He thinks she’d understand… but he doesn’t know if she’d be able to keep it to herself for the entire month. And that Alec can’t risk.

“I’m sure they’ll get over it the moment Magnus charms them into submission,” Alec says, unable to keep the slightly dopey smile off of his face. At least it plays into the lie he’s selling, instead of just being his own inability to play it cool.

Izzy smiles back. “I’m glad you have someone who makes you this happy. I can’t believe you never told me you two were dating, though!”

Alec shrugs, going over the bare-bones lie he and Magnus agreed to. No details, that way they wouldn’t trip up over something. “We just wanted to see if it would stick before telling anyone. We didn’t want to make a big deal out of it.”

Izzy met Magnus a few times this past year when she came to visit him on campus. They didn’t go to the same school but she was only an hour away, so weekend trips were pretty common between the two of them.

“If you like him enough to decide he’s worth subjecting to a family vacation, I’d say that’s a pretty big deal, hermano .” Izzy points out, finishing her coffee before standing up to leave.

Alec gets up to follow, knowing how right she is even though he’d never admit it out loud.

---

The next week flies by with impressive speed. Alec calls on Magnus a little more than usual, but Magnus doesn’t seem to mind. In fact, he returns the requests in kind, the pair of them leaning on one another as much needed distractions to make it through papers and exams and dealing with professors who make them want to walk away from college and never look back.

It isn’t until the night before Alec’s final presentation that he realizes just how close to slipping he is regarding his feelings for Magnus.

It all starts when Alec, in a moment of frustration, throws his pen across the room, followed shortly by the book he’s sourcing from, before picking up his phone and pulling Magnus’ contact info up without hesitation. Magnus answers on the second ring, clearly out of breath.

“Hey Alec, what’s up?” Magnus asks. Alec hears the sound of music in the background, the faint thump of footsteps repeating rhythmically in the background, and guesses that Magnus is at the gym.

“...did you answer your phone in the middle of a workout?” Alec asks, knowing that Magnus usually texts him that he’ll call later when Alec catches him mid-run.

“Don’t worry about it, I was done anyway,” Magnus reassures him, breath coming in rough ‘huffs’ throughout the short sentence. “What’s up?”

Alec considers calling back later anyway, but the pen mark on his white wall encourages him otherwise. “This final presentation for Starkweather. I’m just… I don’t even know anymore. I know the work is good, the research is flawless, but he hates me. What’s the point if he’s just going to pick apart every little thing until he can justify giving me the lowest grade possible out of spite?” Alec sighs. “Why bother?”

All his other classes are normal levels of stress: did I study hard enough, did I proofread this paper well enough, how many more times can I do the readings until I can’t absorb any more information? But this one, this one feels personal. And of course it’s required, and not offered under any other Professor. He doesn’t even know why Starkweather is so hard on him over everyone else, and after a full semester of it he’s reached his tipping point. If he has to retake this class again in the fall he might actually snap.

“Alec, we both know how hard you worked at that class. There's nothing he can do to take away from that now - just take a deep breath and use those words I know you're so skilled with.” There's a suggestive lilt to those last few words that has Alec smiling again already. “It's almost over and you gave him hell at every turn. I think he'll be as happy to get rid of you as you are off him. But you can't let him win by giving up now.”

Alec knows Magnus is right.

“One more. I can do this.” Alec repeats.”Thanks for the pep talk.”

“I can come over after l hit the showers.” Magnus says, the words an assumption at the nature of the call.

“I think I'm good. Just needed someone to talk me down.” He hardly realizes that just hearing from Magnus was all the reassurance he needed, or how strange it is for him to turn down the usual offer without a second thought. “Can I send this over later for you to proofread, though?”

There's a pause on the other end before Magnus replies. “Sure. Yeah, of course. Guess I'll see you tomorrow then.” there's some level of confusion behind the words, and it isn't until Alec hears it that he realizes what he did.

He didn't call Magnus for their usual distraction. He called him just to hear his voice.

Fuck.

“Magnus, wait -” He tries to cover but it's too late, the line is already dead. All he can do is hope Magnus doesn't have the able revelation that he did.

---

Alec doesn't get a chance to see Magnus agsin until after the presentations.

“You killed it. Told you you would.” Magnus said without missing a beat. If anything struck him as odd after last night's call he isn't showing it now.

“Thanks. I'm just glad it's over, either way. Nothing but wine and and shopping and bike rides for the next month.” Alec looks eagerly over at Magnus at that.

“It's going to be amazing,” Magnus agrees.”But you're going to have to personally apologize to Ragnor for it about a million times, because he's still mad at me for abandoning him for an entire month.”

Alec groans. “He already hates me and I can't figure out why, or do anything to make him like me more. I doubt a billion apologies is going to change anything.”

Alec can't remember doing anything to upset or offend Magnus’ roommate, but recently Alec's very existence seems to rub Ragnor the wrong way.

“He's like that with everyone, don't take it personally.” Magnus reassures Alec - not for the first time - and Alec makes a noncommittal noise in response. It sure feels personal, especially when they're in a group hanging out, but he doesn't push it.

“The plan is still to meet at the airport, right?”

Alec nods. The plane leaves in three days so Magnus is spending some time home with friends before the trip, and meeting Alec and his family before the flight. “Yep. 9 am sharp on Tuesday.”

They linger, a mere foot away from each other, and Alec hesitates with every intention of leaning in for a hug when Magnus takes a step away with his gaze set somewhere behind Alec. Alec turns to see Catarina waiting off to the side for Magnus who waves before turning his attention distractedly back to Alec. “Tuesday at 9. Got it. Text me if you think of something I might need between now and then!”

Magnus waves a goodbye that Alec half-heartedly returns, already counting down the minutes until Tuesday.

#malec #magnus bane #alec lightwood #isabelle lightwood #shfanficnexus #shadowhunters #a little something to keep things moving along #elle writes a few deadbeat lines

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team-free-will-you-idjits-67 · 6 years

Text

Swimming Partner

Description: Your life was spent in the water before you began hunting with the Winchester’s. After joining the hunting life, all your regime’s from before were thrown out the window, causing some weight gain and self-conscious thoughts. Dean quickly squashed those thoughts, making you feel more comfortable in your skin.

POV: Female Reader

Characters: PlusSized!Reader , Dean Winchester

Relationship: PlusSized!Reader x Dean Winchester

Warnings: FLUFF. Also, I can’t remember if there is any explicit language, so this is a warning for if there is, unnecessary if there isn’t.

Word Count: 2380

A/N: This is for the Anon that asked for a Plus Sized!Reader x Dean fic where the reader was a competitive swimmer before she started hunting with Sam and Dean and gaining weight. The reader was self-conscious to have Dean see her in a swimsuit, having Dean clear those thoughts from her head and making her feel comfortable. I hope this is everything you hoped for! I was going to try and do some smut with this, but it just didn’t feel right to me?

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Water. It’s your best friend.

The pool has and always will be your number one place to go. Swimming helps you relax, it helps you think, it helps you in ways some people can’t. This all probably stems from your competitive swimming days, before this life. You used to spend hours on end in the water, getting better times, perfecting techniques and more. Most people probably would hate the water after all of the training you’ve been through, but it was your escape.

Now, you’re lucky if a little motel you’re holed up in with the Winchesters has a pool.

It always makes your heart skip a beat and you get excited when you see a pool, no matter the size, at a motel you pull into. The brother’s always laugh at your reaction, every time. You just brush it off. If they had an escape like this, they would understand.

Thankfully, with being a hunter, work always runs late. You always get the pool to yourself to do laps, time yourself to see if you can still keep up with your old self, and you didn’t have to walk around half naked in front of people.

Since joining the Winchester’s and the hunting life, your old exercise and diet regime flew out the window. Yeah, hunting is definitely exercise between chasing, fighting, and killing the supernatural, but it also leaves little room for a healthy diet. A lot of your time is spent sitting in the impala, grabbing any food that you can whether its microwaveable from a gas station or burgers from a burger joint, causing you to gain some weight.

It was a noticeable gain, but the Winchester’s never said anything. They valued you on your intelligence and ability to kick some supernatural ass, not on how you looked.

After a long hunt with Dean, you are happy to see a pool at the motel you both are pulling into. Sam is off with their mom, Mary, helping her with a coven of witches while you and Dean are off to do a salt and burn. A milk run for both of you by now.

You try to contain your excitement while Dean gets a room. You slightly bounce in the seat, already imagining the cool water encasing you, erasing your worries and giving you momentary relief. Dean sinks back into the impala, handing the room key to you and silently drives towards your room. You throw yourself into the room, leaving Dean behind. You want to get changed as quickly as you can.

Your heart sinks while you’re pulling your bathing suit out of your duffle on your bed and Dean softly speaks to you, “You know. I might go swimming with you, Y/N.”

You drop the suit back in your bag, hoping Dean doesn’t notice, “I don’t think I’ll go out and swim this time.”

Dean scoffs behind you, “Y/N, I know you. You want to get in that pool.” You can hear him walk towards you while you’re still staring down at the suit hidden in your bag, “I even went to this hotel for just the pool,” you can feel him close to you, warmth radiating off his body, “for you.”

You turn around, Dean closer to you than you thought, “I just don’t want to tonight,” you shrug your shoulders.

You can tell he isn’t convinced, it’s written all over his face as he speaks, “You’re lying Y/N, let’s go! Go kick my ass in the pool.”

You smile, knowing you definitely would beat him in a race, but your inner demons and thoughts won’t let you. You bite on your lip, “I think I’ll just head to bed Dean.”

You start to walk away from him when he grabs your arm, “Y/N. Stop,” he pulls you around to face him, his bright olive eyes burning into your Y/E/C ones, “Why won’t you swim with me?” You avoid his gaze, causing him to push further, “Y/N. What is it? C’mon, you can tell me.”

You sigh and look towards the oldest Winchester, “I just,” you pause, biting on your lip, “I’m self-conscious about how I look in my swim suit.”

Dean’s face twists with confusion, “Why? There’s nothing wrong with your body.”

You roll your eyes at him and scoff, “Yeah, okay Dean. I don’t think I’m the only one that has seen how much weight I’ve gained since I started hunting with you guys.”

“Y/N,” Dean sighs and runs his hands through his hair, “There’s nothing wrong with your body,” he steps towards you, placing his hands on your hips, causing your breathing to hitch slightly, “You’re beautiful.”

You roll your eyes again, “You’re just saying that.”

Dean groans in frustration before he grabs your suit out of your duffle and pushes it into your chest, “Go put this on. Meet me at the pool in 15 minutes.” He begins to walk towards his duffle before turning back towards you, “If you don’t, I’ll drag you out there,” his eyes trailed over your body, causing heat to rise to your cheeks, “No matter what you’re wearing.”

You nod and walk into the motel bathroom.

10 minutes later you emerge from the motel bathroom, so Dean doesn’t come in and grab you to take you to the pool. He isn’t in the room which allows you breath slightly.

With the pep talk you gave yourself in the bathroom fading, you wrap a towel around yourself and make the short walk to the pool.

Dean is wading in the deep end of the pool, facing away from you, when you approach the pool. You try your hardest to not make noise, so he doesn’t hear you but end up tripping over yourself. Nice job, slick. You sigh when he turns around. You can tell his hunter instincts had taken over in that moment but softened when he saw you, a smile across his face.

“C’mon Y/N,” he says as he gestures with his hand, water droplets falling from his arm. You look him over, what you can see at least. His bronze chest is damp with water drops scattered across it, his hair wet, spiky and starting to fall in his face, and his damn smile. How does he expect you to get into the water with him? He senses your hesitation, “Y/N. Don’t make me come over there and pull you in.”

You sigh and drop the towel that was secured around your chest with your death grip, looking down at your feet as you get into the water, not wanting to see Dean’s reaction. Once the cool water rolls over your slightly sore muscles from sitting in the impala all day, your worries begin to wash away.

You take a deep breath and dive under the water, pushing off the wall of the pool and quickly swimming over to Dean. The usual relief and peace you feel with swimming washes over you, making you forget about your previous worries. When you break from the water seconds later, Dean stares wide eyed, “Damn Y/N. I didn’t know you swam that fast.”

You laugh, “I used to be faster.”

A playful smile crosses his face, “Wanna race?”

You roll your eyes and smile, “You’re going to lose Winchester.”

He wades over towards you, you both against the wall of the pool, and winks, “We’ll see about that Y/L/N.”

You look over towards him and nod, “On three, okay?”

Dean smiles, “Okay.”

You count, “One, two,” and Dean breaks from the wall, “Cheater!” You quickly dive under water, pushing off the wall and swim towards him. Even with his unethical start, you still caught up to him quickly. At the other end of the pool, you easily turn around and kick off the wall, leaving Dean behind. You cross the last few feet of the pool with ease, stopping at the other side. Slightly breathless, you turn around to see Dean crossing the last few feet of the pool.

You giggle as he breaks the water, gasping, “Told you Winchester.”

Dean looks towards you and playfully snarls. He’s still out of breath and can’t talk yet. You float onto your back, your clothed belly slightly protruding from the water, as you lazily swim out towards the middle of the pool.

You sigh and look at the stars, letting the water roll over your whole body, excluding your face. You jump slightly when two large hands pull your torso up out of the water. You look down at your chest pressed against Dean’s and up towards his face. His olive eyes were soft looking down at you and slightly crinkled from the smile playing on his lips, “See Y/N, you had nothing to worry about.”

You roll your eyes and look off towards the side of the pool, you couldn’t pull away from him with his arms tightly wrapped around your lower back, “Yeah, whatever Winchester.” You can feel the self-consciousness and doubt bubble back up to the surface and the peace from the pool fading.

Dean, seemingly seeing your internal struggle, brings you back to reality, “Y/N, really. You’re beautiful.”

You look up towards Dean, tears forming in your eyes, “Again, you’re just saying that Dean.”

Dean looks up towards the sky and sighs before he looks back down, staring into your eyes as one of his hands leaves your back and cups your face, “No, Y/N. I mean it.” His thumb softly strokes your cheek as his eyes wander down to your lips and back to your eyes, “You really are beautiful.”

You can feel the heat start to rise to your face again at the kind words from Dean, him touching and looking at you the way he was didn’t help either. You look down at his anti-possession tattoo and bite your lip slightly, “Dean,” you begin to protest.

His grip tightens on your back and the hand on your face trails down to your chin, pulling you up to face him, “Y/N. No.” You start to protest when Dean’s lips land softly on yours. At first, you’re slightly shocked. You have always thought that Dean was a good-looking guy, but you never thought he would be into you in anyway besides a hunting partner. You shut off any sort of feelings that weren’t platonic towards him so you didn’t get hurt in the long run. Eventually, you melt into the kiss, relaxing against him and tangling your fingers through his wet hair.

Dean pulls away from the kiss, leaving you both panting as he slowly rubs your cheek with his thumb, “You’re beautiful Y/N. Trust me.”

You look back down towards his tattoo, tracing it with one of your hands, “Thanks Dean.”

He pulls you into his chest, chuckling. He lays his chin on the top of your head and rubs small figure eights along your back, “You’re welcome Y/N,” he pauses and squeezes you softly, “And I mean what I said. You’re beautiful. Any guy would be lucky to have you.”

You laugh softly as you pull away from him, “You-“

Dean rolls his eyes and cuts you off, pressing his lips against yours again, rougher than the first time. His hands run up your body and cups your face, deepening the kiss. Instinctively, you hop up slightly in the water, wrapping your legs around his waist and tangling your hands in his hair again.

Both of you lose track of time, just kissing each other when a voice breaks the new intimacy between you two, “Hey! No sex in the pool!”

You both jump away from each other, laughing. You look up towards the motel owner smiling, “Sorry sir.” You swim over to the pool ladder, Dean following behind closely, and get out of the pool. When the motel owner is out of earshot, you both laugh as you walk towards the motel room.

The laughs die down when Dean closes and locks the motel room door.

You both remain quiet as you walk towards your duffle on the bed, “I think I’m going to take a shower, Dean.” You look over to see him hanging his head slightly before looks up to you and nods. Does he regret what just happened? You drop the clothes that were in your hand and you turn towards him, “What’s wrong Dean?”

He looks up towards you and shakes his head, “Nothing Y/N.”

Your eyes narrow as you watch him, “You’re lying Winchester.” You walk towards him, standing in front of him, “What’s wrong?”

Dean’s once olive eyes are now emerald with sadness pooling in the green depths, “Y/N,” he sighs, “I,” he pauses and looks down at the floor, thinking, before looking back up towards you, “I just don’t want you to think what happened in the pool was some sort of pity thing.”

Your brow furrows in confusion, “I wasn’t thinking that, actually.”

Dean closes the short distance between the two of you, smiling, “Good. I meant what I said Y/N,” his hands softly lay on your toweled hips, “You’re beautiful and any guy would be lucky to have you,” he pauses and softly kisses your lips again, “especially me.”

A small, “What,” escapes your lips as you look up into his eyes.

A smile plays at his lips, “I like you Y/N. I have for awhile,” he chuckles to himself, “Hell, I’m in love with you.” He cups your cheek with one hand, rubbing soft circles with his thumb, “It hurts me that you don’t see how beautiful and perfect you are.”

You chuckle, “I’m far from perfect Dean.”

He smiles and laughs, “Y/N, I just told you that I love you and you focused on how I described you.”

You lean into his hand and smile, “It’s a bad habit.” You place a hand on his cheek and look into his eyes before leaning in, placing a small kiss on his lips. Hearing him say those three small words to you, make you realize everything you’ve been holding back since you met Dean. Your feelings envelope and overwhelm you, “I love you too Dean.”

Dean wraps his arms around you tightly, hugging you and kissing the top of your head.

Looks like you have a new swimming partner.

Forever Tags:

@emoryhemsworth, @alexwinchester23, @nanie5 , @gabrielslittleangel

Dean x Reader Tags:

@unlikelycollectortimetraveler

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kazosa · 7 years

Text

Masquerade

Summary: the reader has been conned into going to a party where her best friend, a white witch, has set her up on a blind date. Is this one finally a keeper?

A/N: BIG thanks to @dragongirl420 for the gorgeous graphic!!

Warnings: um? I write how I talk so… swearing? That’s about it. Fluffy AF, too.

Song Lyrics: “Lady in Red” by Chris de Burgh

Word Count (w/Lyrics): 3930

Tags: @dragongirl420

The rustle of fabric and the sounds of heeled shoes on the wooden floor were all keeping time with the music that was playing over the amazing sound system. As you watched the party taking place without you, you leaned against the wall and wondered, yet again, how in the hell Jen managed to convince you to go to her party. Only, it wasn’t just any party, it was a masquerade party… and she was setting you up, again.

“Oh, c’mon! It’ll be fun!” she cajoled.

You’d heard that before.

“This is the last time, Jen,” she’d been trying for ages to find you ‘the one’ and had been unsuccessful. “I’m a hunter, I don’t have time for family stuff.”

The two of you’d had many discussions about hunters and families. No matter how many times you tried to argue against it, you knew it was bullshit. Your own father was a hunter and you had many good memories with him. He was around to teach you things, he was there for birthdays. Hunters and families could be done, and happily, you knew that, but you’d been on your own so long…

“Fine, last time,” she relented. “Though, I think I picked a winner this time.”

Jen had insisted on buying you a dress for the party. Thinking you’d just go to some costume shop that had dresses at the ready, you'd agreed. Instead, she had taken you to the airport and spent the next three days in LA getting dress fittings. Jen had already picked out the design and gave the dressmakers your general dimensions. She’d been a good guesser and only a little work had needed to be done to get your dress perfect. Three days and Sam had only called you once. Dean had called you everyday and had sent you texts. You were living with them, after all. It was only natural that they would check up on you, plus, they were Winchesters, it’s what they did.

You’d been mingling with the other party goers long enough to make your feet hurt in your high-heeled boots. Figured you’d get stood up, on Valentine’s Day no less. Your mask was bothering you and you wanted nothing more than to ditch the party, but Jen had gone to a lot of trouble and it was a pretty fantastic party.

Somehow, she’d managed to rent a loft in the historic downtown area and decorated it to the nines. There was lush velvet and black lace everywhere you looked. The furnishings were just as opulent as the gothic chandeliers that hung from the ceiling. Jen had really outdone herself this time.

The music wasn’t too loud, but loud enough that people wanted to dance. As you watched how people had already paired off, it made you wonder if Jen was just messing with you and you were the only one being set up on a date. It was starting to not matter anymore, you were getting to a point where you were there for the food and drinks and to enjoy your friend’s expensive taste.

So far, you’d avoided the food table, foolishly thinking your date would acutally show. You hadn’t wanted to eat something and have it make your breath go horribly wrong. You weren’t an optimist, by any means, but it could have finally been the time that one of Jen’s matchmaking attempts had actually worked out. It didn’t seem to be an issue any longer, and the carrot sticks were calling to you.

“At least something is,” you grumbled to yourself.

Jen slipped in beside you in her opulent black and gold gown. Like everything else at the party, she was stunning.

“You look amazing!” she said sincerely.

Indelicately chomping down on your carrot, “I don’t feel amazing.”

“He’ll be here,” she insisted, taking a drink of whiskey.

A tall man, wearing a black suit, with black shirt and a vest printed with gold spades, and a matching pocket square came striding up, laying a gentle hand on Jen’s bare shoulder. You liked Dave a lot and he seemed to be holding up nicely with Jen. She had a wild life, but so did he, and she tended to run through her lovers. This one, however, seemed to be thriving with her. He was a nice guy and he was a hell of a lot of fun at parties. His dark blonde hair, blue eyes and beard made him look more menacing than he really was with that masquerade mask on. In fact, when he wasn’t dressed up, he had a whole other look about him, one that had earned him the nickname Jen had given him. It never failed, every time you saw him, it came to mind…

“If he’s not, we’ll just find him and kill him,” Dave said lightly. “Good riddance if he can’t man-up.”

“You’re sweet,” you said.

“Don’t worry, he knows what’s good for him,” Jen winked. “Just give him a chance, okay?”

Jen was a white witch, and you had no doubt that whatever wrath the mystery man was going to get, she would be the one to dole it out.

“In the Mood” started playing and you knew then that Jen had chosen the music selections for the evening.

“C’mon, (Y|N), let me push you around the dance floor,” Dave said. “Let’s go cut a rug!”

Dave didn’t wait for an answer, he just grabbed your wrist and pulled you out onto the dancefloor while the peppy beat lifted your spirits a little.

Sam went in first, no longer willing to wait while Dean drug his feet. Dean stood outside the door to the party, the sounds of the old music, like stuff the MoL had left behind, met his ears. The rustle of fabric and shoes on the wooden floor, a small detail under the music. He watched as Sam disappeared into the crowd of party goers. He felt like an idiot wearing the mask, but he kept telling himself that if Batman could wear a mask and still be badass, he could, too.

As the notion finally set in, he pulled down on the lapels of his suit jacket and said, “I’m friggin’ Bruce Wayne.” He smiled to himself and strolled into the party feeling as cocky as Bruce Wayne, himself.

He spotted the food tables and bar. Fairly certain he could down a beer in a minute, he started making his way toward the bar first. Half way there, he caught sight of the taps and the promise of the delicious liquid gold they would soon provide. The crowds of people had slowed his progress when a flash of burgundy from the dancefloor caught his eye. Turning, he stopped to watch the woman dance with a big bear of a man.

It didn’t matter that she was dolled up for Jen’s fancy party and wearing a mask, he would know her anywhere. He broke into a nervous sweat as he looked around the room and realized the couples he saw were wearing matching colors. Taking a deep breath, he let it out slowly to calm himself.

He rubbed his palms on his pant legs, “Get it together, you’re Bruce Wayne.”

“You always give yourself these pep talks, Bruce?”

He looked down into the smiling face of Jen, who was holding a beer and a glass of whiskey.

“Wasn’t expecting an ambush,” he said, turning back to watch (Y|N) glide over the dancefloor.

“Take the beer, jerk,” she said, touching the beer to the back of his hand.

Accepting the bottle, he took a long drink. Jen looked up at him as he watched (Y|N) dance with Dave. She’d seen that look before, the one of silent admiration from afar. She’d seen it on the faces of people who couldn’t have the one their hearts most desired, whether they knew of that desire or not. What made his gaze different was the hint of jealousy mixed with the adoration.

“You just don’t know how to say ‘thank you,’ do you?” she asked.

“Look, Jen, I don’t know what you’re trying to do here, but…”

“Why did you never ask her out?” she prodded. “Were you just too chicken?”

Dean sputtered a few moments, not knowing how to answer. (Y|N) had been in their lives a long time. Hell, they’d almost grown up together. It felt a little disrespectful to want Bobby’s niece the way he did. She’d spent summers with Bobby and Karen. When his own dad needed to dump him and Sam somewhere, it was often Bobby’s house. She’d started out being the annoying kid that wouldn’t leave him and Sam alone. Then a few years passed and they’d gone back to Sioux Falls when they were going on a hunt and things had been … different.

It had been hard to ignore the long legs sticking out from under the old Nova. Cutoffs, boots, black tank top, and a flannel tied around the waist, grease smudges on the bare skin of her tanned legs. The blaring noise of Nirvana and Pearl Jam assaulting his ears. He didn’t know who he was expecting to roll out from under the car on the creeper when he switched off the music, but he wasn’t expecting HER… Anyone else and he wouldn’t have batted an eye.

She’d grown up a hunter’s kid and the niece of a hunter. She knew all there was to know about cars, weapons, music, and monsters. Another few years later, Sam was back, and they’d needed help and called Bobby. Instead of their surrogate uncle coming to help them with a hunt, (Y|N) had shown up in his place. He’d gone into the hunt thinking he’d have to look out for her, but it hadn’t been necessary, she was good, really good. He remembered thinking she could go toe to toe with any of the best and come out ahead.

Jump ahead to their current situation. She was living in the bunker with him and Sam. After Bobby died, he and Sam felt like they owed Bobby’s only living family a home. Hunting with them, and researching when they needed her, after all, she shared the same blood as Bobby. The woman was a bloodhound on two legs, two long, sexy legs that he often thought about being wrapped around his waist. Her room was even next door to his own. She’d been there for him, through everything…even the nightmares.

“I don’t know,” he finally admitted to Jen… and himself. “It’s not something I want to talk about with a witch, I can tell you that much.”

“Well then,” Jen continued, “I suggest you take advantage of the mask, Bruce, and charm the dress off her.”

Dean was about to tell her exactly where she could go when he realized the song had ended and (Y|N) and the large man were coming over to where they stood.

Dave was quite the dancer and he’d left you winded as the song ended and he led you off the dancefloor. It wasn’t until you got near the edge that you saw Jen, and a tall man wearing your matching color, talking. You assumed he must have been your mystery date. Not wearing your glasses, it took you a few moments to realize who you were looking at was none other than Dean Winchester.

“Son of a bitch,” you thought. “Jen, you sneaky witch.”

“There’s my gorgeous lady!” Dave took Jen in his arms and dipped her into a kiss.

You were still catching your breath when Dave stood up with Jen.

“Bruce,” Jen winked at the man in your matching color, “I believe you know this beautiful lady. You two have a nice night.”

“Sweetheart,” Dave leaned down to kiss your cheek, “always a pleasure. You’ve been holding out on me, we’ll have to dance again real soon!”

You watched as your friend and her boyfriend walked away. Dean was watching him closely.

“Is that the guy from Stranger Things?” he asked.

You nodded. You’d made Dean watch it with you, not that you’d had to twist his arm too much. Finding a good show to watch, when you were at the bunker killing time til the next case, was almost a relief.

“Yeah, it was a good show, right…Bruce?” you were going to tease him a little with the charade. You didn’t find the idea of spending a little quality time with Dean unappealing. On the contrary, you’d wanted nothing more. It wasn’t like you hadn’t been obvious about how you felt. Ever since you were kids, you’d had a crush on him. He’d always shut down your advances. If he knew it was you, he wasn’t letting on, and if he didn’t know it was you, you hoped he might finally make a move on you.

“Huh,” he mused. He turned and looked at her in her dress, mask, and gloves. He’d never seen her like that. She was always in hunter gear, but this, this was a whole new ballgame.

“So, uh… what do we do now?” he asked. Any other time, he would have laid on the charm, given the girl some bullshit story, anything to cut to the chase and get in her pants. (Y|N) would see right through all of that, he had to play it cool.

“You could ask me to dance,” you offered.

The music was still playing an up-tempo tune and the party was starting to really pick up. Dean stuck out his elbow to you. Taking his arm, he led you back out onto the dancefloor, just in time for the song to change to “Lady in Red.”

“Oh um…” you tried to pull away, but Dean only pulled you closer. You looked up into his impossibly green eyes, searching for any hint of what was happening…

“No, not this time, sweetheart. Never again,” his expression telling you he was completely serious. His grip tightened on your waist, his hand clasping yours to his chest.

You ignored everyone else but him. He gently swayed to the music with you pressed against him. Your emotions were running wild. The man you’d had feelings for since you were both teenagers was staring into your eyes with such intensity, you couldn’t look away and you didn’t want to.

“You look beautiful tonight,” he said just loud enough for you to hear.

Your free hand rested on his bicep. He looked good in burgundy. Hell, he looked good in everything he wore.

“Not so bad, yourself, Dean,” you said, letting on you knew who he was. You were still unable to break eye contact with the most handsome man you’d ever known.

He leaned down slightly, finally breaking the hold his eyes held you in. His breath tickling your ear as he spoke, “I should have done this a long time ago.”

I’ve never seen you looking so lovely as you did tonight I’ve never seen you shine so bright I’ve never seen so many men ask you if you wanted to dance They’re looking for a little romance, given half a chance And I have never seen that dress you’re wearing Or the highlights in your hair that catch your eyes I have been blind

“You could have,” you said softly. You’d carried a torch for him for so long… There were times when you’d be alone at the bunker, watching a movie, or a TV show and just when you thought things were moving toward the next level, he’d leave you hanging and play it off with some lame excuse.

“You’re Bobby’s niece. You were off limits… and you were an annoying kid,” he chuckled softly.

You squeezed his arm, unable to get a good grip with your gloved hand, “You weren’t much better, you big jerk, and we’re the same age.”

“Imagine my surprise when I go back to Bobby’s house and see those long legs of yours sticking out from under that old Nova,” he trailed off.

“I remember that day,” you confessed, looking up into his eyes. “I was a goner. Seeing you, looking cocky as all hell in that black t-shirt and brown leather jacket… I knew then that I’d never get you out of my system.” You ran your hand up his sleeved arm, your arm going over his shoulder.

His hand moved to your back pressing you to him.

“That mouth on you… man, you know how to put a guy in his place,” he admitted.

“Well, you shouldn’t have touched my stereo or shot your mouth off about me working on cars,” you defended yourself.

He could smell her hair and feel it catching on his jaw as she moved with him. She felt so good pressed against him, moving with him seamlessly across the dance floor. They’d known each other since they were kids. He had always blamed not telling her how he was feeling because she was more like a sister than someone he would ever fall in love with, but that had been a lie, too. It was a lie he told himself to get through all of the lonely nights, the nights where she would go with someone else, the weeks and months that they were apart. It was all about survival.

“I’m sorry, by the way, about Bobby,” he was very quiet, almost a whisper. “It was my fault. I got him killed.”

You squeezed his hand before letting go to put your arm around him. He crushed you to his body, and you knew he must have been reliving the moment in his head.

“It’s not your fault, Dean. Bobby knew the risks and he would do it all again if he could, I know it,” you tried to reassure him. Sam had told you the story of what happened because Dean couldn’t. At the time, you were more hurt that Dean hadn’t come to tell you himself. Later on, you realized it was because he felt responsible. After a while, you just assumed he didn’t want to talk about it and you didn’t press the issue. You’d come to terms with Bobby’s death long ago. “He loved you and Sam, so much.”

The lady in red is dancing with me, cheek to cheek There’s nobody here, it’s just you and me It’s where I want to be But I hardly know this beauty by my side I’ll never forget the way you look tonight

His face buried in your neck, you extended your hands behind his head and pulled off your glove. You put your bare hand on the back of his neck, stroking his skin and running your hand up through his hair on the nape. You couldn’t even hear the music anymore, none of the chatter from the other guests, not even the clunk of feet on the wooden floor. There was only Dean. Your heart was damn near bursting out of your chest for him.

I’ve never seen you looking so gorgeous as you did tonight I’ve never seen you shine so bright, you were amazing I’ve never seen so many people want to be there by your side And when you turned to me and smiled, it took my breath away And I have never had such a feeling Such a feeling of complete and utter love, as I do tonight

“There’s so many things I would’ve done different,” he said releasing his tight hold on you. Still moving to the music, he leaned back a little bit to look at you.

“Like what?” your bare hand caressing the smooth skin on his neck.

He looked at her and thought of all the times he wished he had kissed her. The times he wanted to hold her hand. The times they were heading back from a hunt and had just wanted to keep going with her by his side. He’d known she cared for him and that had made it all the more difficult to keep refusing her. In the end, he didn’t know who he was protecting more, her, or himself.

“That day, when you rolled out from under the Nova, I should have…” he looked into her eyes, she deserved to hear him say it. She deserved to hear him say everything that he’d been holding back for so long.

“I should have told you back then that you were making a mistake,” he said. He saw her give him a questioning look. No way would she let him off easy. Patiently, she waited for him to continue. “You were dating that jock, Peter Butler.”

You smiled up at him. Dating is not the word you would have chosen to describe your two dates with Peter. He was cute, but dumb as a rock. You’d almost forgotten him entirely.

Dean continued, “…I should have told you that I wanted you.”

You swallowed hard, “Did you Dean? All those years ago?”

He nodded. “We should have just gotten in the Impala and drove. I don’t know where, just anywhere away from where we were and tried to forget that we were ever hunters.”

You both knew that things had worked out the way they should have. You couldn’t imagine doing anything other than hunting and you knew that Dean felt the same way. It was good helping people and killing the scary things that go bump in the night. When you’d reconnected with the Winchesters, you almost felt like you were getting the best of both worlds. You hunted with two of the best men you’d ever known and had a close relationship with them both. Dean was the one that had always held your heart. Anyone else that tried to take it away from him, never really could.

I never will forget the way you look tonight The lady in red, the lady in red The lady in red, my lady in red

“I know we can never not be hunters but… do you wanna go?” you asked. “Do you want to go get in the Impala and just see where the road takes us? I mean, I’d go to the end of the world with you, if you asked me. I kinda …”

Dean’s lips were suddenly pressed to yours for one, beautiful moment. It ended just as suddenly as it had begun. Taking a moment to recover, you said, “I’m sorry, if we’re gonna be a thing, you need to kiss me better than that. My toes didn’t even curl.”

He smiled and reached up to carefully remove your mask, then his own. Dean’s eyes twinkled as he leaned in for another try. This time, his lips were soft as he sucked gently on your lip as he kissed you, his tongue brushing lightly on your lip as yours parted for him. His tongue danced with yours as you moved on the dancefloor. It all felt like a dream.

“I love you, (Y|N).”

A/N: this may or may not be the end of their story, I haven’t decided yet. I mean, if they leave, how does Sam get home? Where do they go? Anywaaaayyy….

#dean winchester #fan fic #dean x reader #fan fiction #dean winchester x reader #fluff #kazosa #masquerade #supernatural #spn fan fic

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butwelivehappilyeverafter-blog · 7 years

Text

Romeo and Juliet with Grunge ~ Part 2

This goes from 0 to 100 at the end but that's what you get with a longer chapter! I wrote this while watching Harry Potter, like the true brit I am, and listening to Zella Day (for anyone who gives a shit.) Another update should be done really soon x

Part 1

~~~

Part 2

Betty tried to keep her head down as she walked into Vixen practise late as Cheryl was doing her pep rant, but the HBIC, unsurprisingly, was a stone-cold bitch who seemed to have eyes in the back of her head.

“Betty, nice of you to grace us with your presence”

Fuck

“Meet me in the gym in 5 minutes ladies. If Betty feels like she can hold up practice, then I will too” Then, with a sickly-sweet smile, she was gone.

Betty skulked over to where Veronica was standing by their lockers, her good mood dampened significantly, and began to change.

“She may be a bit harsh, but I can’t help but find that attitude endearing.” Veronica gushed.

Betty made some non-committal noise as she tugged her jumper over her head. She did not want to listen to Veronica’s Cheryl-based fantasies right now. She just wanted to get this over with before she ends up punching a wall. Or Cheryl. Preferably the latter.

“Jesus, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.” Veronica teased as Betty just looked at her, unamused and went back to digging in her bag for her uniform. “Look B, I’m sorry about what we said at lunch, it was uncalled for, but you’ve got to admit you’re a goody two shoes. Its part of your irresistible charm.”

Betty felt slightly guilty Veronica thought her bad mood was her fault. Truthfully, she’d completely forgotten about lunch. She finally turned to look at Veronica, “Don’t worry V, it’s fine, I’m just stretched a bit thin at the mom-“

“Oh my GOD Betty! What is that?” Veronica whisper shouted, jabbing her finger towards Bettys revealed chest. Bettys eyes darted down at the large mark just above her bra.

A hickey.

Fuck.

She was going to kill Jughead Jones.

Panic set in as one of Betty’s hands shot up to cover the mark while the other dug desperately through her bag, grasping her uniform. “Keep your voice down V!”

“I’ll keep my voice down when you explain why you’ve got a hickey! What aren’t you telling me?”

Betty pulled on her Vixen uniform and desperately thought of an answer to Veronicas question that was better than ‘I’ve been sleeping with a Southside Serpent for 10 months.’

“It’s nothing Veronica. Just a… I don’t know, fling I guess. Wanted to let lose for once, away from the claws of Alice Cooper.” Betty said, lying through her teeth, blessing her lucky stars that thinking off the top of her head is a Cooper trait.

Veronica stood back slightly, watching her put on her uniform for a moment before accepting her answer. “Believe me girl I get it, there’s been many a night where I’ve been thinking about Cheryl and-“

“I’m going to stop you there in your fantasy about a girl who will quite literally claw me if I’m not in that gym in 30 seconds.” Betty said as she internally thanked every god that Veronica believed her cover story.

“Fine but I want details on mystery man at some point. You know you can tell me anything right?”

“Sure, but give me some time Ronnie”

Betty didn’t like lying to her. But she’s noticed recently, as much as she’d like to tell Veronica all the bullshit going on in her life right now, she finds herself telling Jughead instead. He was her go to confidant now and she’s happier than she’s ever been. Maybe it’s the class divide but Jughead understands her in a way Veronica, with her Upper-class clouded vision can’t. They had, be known to her, been drifting apart recently. Less one on one time at Pop’s or sleepovers at the Pembrooke. In fact, they hadn’t done something together without the usual entourage in weeks, and the longer they were apart, the deeper the cracks in their friendship showed.

Betty was broken, and Veronica didn’t see it.

At least, not the way he did, and he still loved her.

As much as she hated to admit it, her friends didn’t understand her anymore. With every step she takes further into darkness, the more faded her ties to the Northside became and the more she felt like herself.

***

Fangs stood behind the bar at the Whyte Wyrm. The afternoon shift was always a slow one so apart from the usual’s it was just him and Sweetpea playing a no holds back game of Go Fish. It wasn’t very macho, but it gets to the point where you know each other plays and poker just becomes boring. It was peaceful in the afternoon, unlike the normal turbulences that go along with their kind of lifestyle. That was until Jughead burst in, pulling his arms through his jacket sleeves and stumbling hurriedly up the stairs.

It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence for Jughead Jones to barge in unannounced. His dad had been living in the upstairs flat of the Wyrm for 18 months, ever since his Mum had run off and left her two kids and their struggling alcoholic father to fend for themselves. FP hadn’t been able to cope after Gladys had gone. It had been too much for him to take, turning to drink more and becoming a burden for his kids to handle. In all honesty, they were all better off apart, everyone knew it. Jellybean was doing better in school, Jughead was visibly happier and FP was, for the most part, sober. But you knew something bad had happened when Jughead comes to see his father without his younger sister.

“Reckon it’s business or dis-pleasure?” Sweetpea asked, evidently concerned.

“Whatever it is, we’ll hear it soon enough” Fangs replied warily. A Jones family reunion was normally a loud one.

***

Jughead pegged it up the stairs, two at a time. He was pissed. Not just your usual angsty gang boy pissed. This was different.

Tuesday’s were good days, he’s had a routine going for the last few weeks with the school merger. All he had to do was go to school, keep up grades, keep any socialising to a minimum, try hard not to stare at his girlfriend, write at the blue and gold while girlfriend is at Vixen practise, ‘write’ with said girlfriend at the Blue and Gold after Vixen practise and finally return home with a blonde under his arm to go live out all his domestic fantasies of baking cookies while listening to shitty indie pop. Tuesday’s were great.

Apart from thus particular Tuesday, when he gets a drunken call from his dad while waiting for Betty and must speed to the Wyrm to make sure he doesn’t drink himself to death. Yep, this Tuesday was turning out to be quite shitty.

Arriving at the door to his dad’s small apartment he knocked loudly before opening the door. His dad sat, passed out in the chair, TV still blaring some sport match, it could be baseball but Jughead wasn’t focused on the details.

He leaned down beside his father and prised the whisky bottle from his grip, collecting any bottles from around the living room and taking them through to the kitchen, pouring them down the sink one by one, chucking the empty bottles in the bin.

He hated that he was still having to do this. All the promises of sobriety his dad had ever made were always bullshit. But why now, what triggered him to be so distraught as to look for answers at the bottom of a bottle.

He found his answer as he went to dispose of the last bottle and noticed a letter, torn into quarters and deposited in the bin. He fished it out and put the pieces together and began to read. It was from his mother. That made a lot of sense.

Fuming he pulled out his phone and called Jellybean.

“Heyyy Jug, are you gonna be home soon or what. I kind of rely on Betty’s cooking on weekdays. Jug? You there?”

“Did you know Mom was getting remarried?”

“Wait what are you on about? Moms doing what?”

“She’s sent Dad a letter saying she ‘regrets to inform him that, as the divorce is finalised, she will be remarrying some guy called Ethan’” He read in a sickly-sweet voice. “But don’t worry, if you’re feeling left out or, I don’t know, neglected by your own mother not bothering to inform you about this, she says we’re welcome to come!”

“That bitch I swear to god… Wait Jug, why are you even over there?” JB asked concerned

“Dad called me off his face earlier, so I came to check and found the letter in the trash. What do I do Jelly?”

She sighed and Jughead could hear sounds like she was standing up, “I hate to be that girl, but there’s nothing we can do apart from wait for him to sober up. So, pick yourself up, come home and enjoy some delicious home cooked food provided by the everlasting radiant beam of sunshine that is Betty Cooper. Betty is coming over tonight right?”

He smiled at the panic in her voice at the question “If I manage to get back to Riverdale high in 15 minutes and pick her up, no one should be around, so it’ll be fine. See you in a bit sis” and with that he hung up.

***

He wasn’t there. He hadn’t been waiting in the Blue and Gold when she finished practise like he normally was. He hadn’t arrived when she decided to start working and he still wasn’t here as she was locking the door and turning out the lights. She was used to this when he was at Southside High. Sometimes it was hard for him to get to the Northside without becoming conspicuous, so she would just meet him at him and JB’s apartment. However, now that he was at Riverdale High, things should be easier.

She was about to lose hope and call Kevin for a ride when two arms snaked around her waist from behind, causing her heart to leap out of her chest before she settled into the familiar comfort.

“Sorry I wasn’t here Bets, something came up that I had to deal with” Jughead mumbled into her hair.

She turned in his arms and looked up to face him, he looked upset. “What happened Jug?”

“I’ll explain on the way, but we should really get out of this corridor before someone spots us.”

“Don’t worry, we’re the only people insane enough to be at school this late” Betty smirked, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the open doors.

***

Jellybean sat on the couch, the record player in the corner playing ‘The Wall’ for the umpteenth time, as she waited for Jughead and Betty to get home. Her stomach rumbled, and she groaned at the prospect of having to get up and make herself something from what measly food they had in the kitchen. That was one of the things she loved about Betty, along with having another girl in the house, she was able to make a meal from virtually nothing. Something the Jones siblings appreciated more than anything.

Just as she was about to admit defeat and chuck some leftover pasta bake in the microwave, she heard the key in the lock and the door swing open.

She stood up and began to walk around the corner towards the noise, turning the record off as she went. “Hey guys, any plans on food, I thought you’d be back earlier than this, so I didn’t bother- Eww guys!” JB’s hands shot up to cover her eyes “Kid sister is present, get your PDA out of my face”

Jughead and Betty jumped apart at the sound, Jughead rolling his eyes as Betty laughed. “It’s not PDA if we’re inside, this isn’t public, this is our home Jelly”

“Still, I want to be able to walk through the living room without finding you working your girlfriend against a wall” JB teased as Jughead blushed and Betty laughed again

“Okay, I’m going to go make something to eat, if you guys want any you need to help” Betty said winking and walking through to the small kitchen.

Jughead gave a lovesick sigh and began to pick up his and Betty’s coats from the floor. “Sorry to interrupt you guys, but I have been waiting for ages” JB smirked, “Did you tell Betty about Mom?”

“Yeah, she was angrier than I was” Jughead laughed “Come on, let’s go help out before she comes out here and drags us in there herself”

“Fine” She said, walking through with him “but any of that lovey dovey shit and I’m out”

“Fine” He chuckled, opening the kitchen door “What do you need help with babe”

“A way to control my anger at your mother.” Betty fumed, vigorously chopping up carrots. “I’ve never even met her, but she seems vile, no offence guys

“None taken Betty, she’s a bitch” Jellybean exhaled.

“We’re better off without her” Jughead stated “as for dad, he’s pretty beat up about the whole thing, so we should keep an eye on him.”

“Agreed, I’ll pop round after school tomorrow” JB said

“I wish I could help you guys out, but, for obvious reasons…”

“Its okay Bets, you do enough for us as it is” Jughead said, grabbing her hand and rubbing over her palm with his thumb.

Betty smiled up at him her heart beating double a second. The moment was broken when JB made a retching sound from behind them “That’s it I’m out. Have fun guys” And left the room.

They continued preparing vegetables for a while after she had gone in comfortable silence. As Jughead wrestled with the cheese grater, Betty spoke from beside him “Hey, um jug. Something happened… at school today that you should know about.”

“What sort of thing?” He asked, furrowing his brow

“Well, do you remember last week when we went up to Greendale for that poetry slam?” She asked, struggling to find a way to approach the subject “And we ended up back here…”

A smile spread over his face as he recalled “Of course I do. Why? Do you want a replay because I’d be all too happy to” He said as his hand ran up her arm.

She chuckled and swotted him off “Not that I don’t want that right now, but I was more referring to the massive hickey you gave me”

“Oh yeah, sorry about that” He looked sheepish but couldn’t help grinning “But what does this have to do with anything that happened at school today?”

“Well surprisingly, when you have a hickey and your best friends sees it, they do ask questions. Especially when that best friend is Veronica Lodge”

Realisation dawned on him and panic began to set in “Wait so you told Veronica about us?”

“No No I managed to lie my way out of it,” She said clasping both of his hands in hers “but it got me thinking, with you being at Riverdale High, its going to get a lot harder hiding this from people, especially our friends”

“What are you saying Bets?” He asked, confused. “You don’t think we should start telling people do you?”

“Why not Jug? I’m sick of hiding what we have like it’s something to be ashamed of!” She shouted “What we have, it’s what most people wish for their entire lives. I love you so much, and I want to show people that.”

“I love you too Bets, and I understand what you’re saying, but that’s exactly why we can’t tell the world we’re together. If we do it will put both of us in danger. Tensions between the North and Southside are worse than ever and if people knew, all they’d think was that I was corrupting you or that you were manipulating me. I’m sorry, but it’s too dangerous.”

“Okay, I get it, but please. I need to get all these feelings off my chest or I might explode. I need someone else to talk to about us that your little sister. Please” Betty grabbed his face in her hands and felt him melt into her touch.

“Who do you want to tell, because, no offence, but you friends are really judgmental. We need to be careful about who we trust with this.”

“I have an idea, but you won’t like it” She said, raising an eyebrow

“No, no way! Anybody but him please Bets”

“But Archie knows you, or at least used to. Me, Kevin, him and you were inseparable before your Dad took you to live on the Southside. As much as Archie would like to forget it, you two were the closest of all. It may have been a long time ago, but I think he’s our best shot at being exceptive.” She pleaded “He’s one of my best friends Jug, and he used to be yours. I want that again.”

“You drive a hard bargain Cooper,” He smirked “But what about dear Archibald’s schoolboy crush on you. Don’t you think he’ll get a bit jealous?”

“Well he has to get over it sooner or later” She winked “He’ll understand Juggie. Please, will you do this for me?”

Jughead could never say no to those puppy dog eyes “I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but tomorrow, we’ll tell Archie”

“Thank you for understanding Juggie” she smiled widely up at him after pulling him into a hug.

“But, no guarantee I won’t punch him if he’s a dick about it”

Betty laughed and shoved him away, “Shut up and go peel some potatoes”

***

“Betty, you are a magician I swear” JB moaned as she had another bite of apple pie. “Where did you find pecan nuts?”

“I have my sources” Betty quipped from her position lead in Jughead’s lap on the couch “I’m glad my habit of stress baking is appreciated somewhere”

“Hey, what time do you need to get to Pops?” Jughead asked, playing with her hair

“Shit, I should probably go now if I want to get there anywhere near on time” Betty stood up and kissed Jughead's forehead “I’ll see you tomorrow at mine then?”

“Course, love you” Jughead yawned

“I love you too, Jug. See you soon JB” Betty said, walking to the door

“Bye Betty, bring cherries next time” JB shouted after her

Jughead rolled his eyes and Betty laughed before shutting the door behind herself, beginning to walk to pops.

***

“Betty Cooper! Where have you been, we said to meet at 8:30.” Kevin looked exasperated as he pulled her into a tight hug “I thought you’d been kidnapped or something!”

“Calm down Kev, it’s Riverdale, who would be kidnapping anyone round here”

“Wait, you haven’t heard? It just happened earlier so no reason you should I guess.”

Betty started to panic “What is it Kev, what happened?”

“It’s Reggie, he got jumped by a bunch of Southsider’s earlier. They think it was a serpent”

Betty scoffed at that, “That’s ridiculous. The Serpents don’t just randomly jump people”

“How would you know Bets? I dated a serpent for a regretful 2 months and I still have no idea how they work or how they make their money. How would you know after just a few weeks of them being at Southside?”

“I just-“

“Come on and sit Betty” Kevin interrupted “Everyone’s been worried sick”

“Fine” Betty said through gritted teeth. Taking her usual seat next to Archie “What else have I missed in the past half hour?”

“Well, I wrote a new song. Anyone want to hear it-“

“No!” Betty, Kevin and Veronica all said together

“Fine, it was worth a shot.” Archie said dejectedly as Veronica continued her story about Cheryl being a lovable bitch

“Anyway, so then I came back with a great insult about her knee highs when-“

“Hey, who let in the serpents!” Archie interjected “They’re lucky the Bulldogs aren’t here, or they’d be flat on their asses!”

Betty turned to see Toni, Sweetpea and Fangs walk in followed by Jughead, putting his beanie back on his head after having to take it off to ride his bike. She just started along with the rest of them as Archie fumed next to her. What were they doing here on this side of town?

“They’re fucking lowlifes, why do they have to invade everywhere they’re not wanted!”

“Calm down Arch. If you want to know why they’re here, let’s go ask them” Betty said, standing up and making her way over to where they stood in the doorway.

“Wait! Betty I’ll come with you” Archie said, scrambling out of the booth after her as Veronica and Kevin stared at the scene in front of them, transfixed.

Archie caught up with her and put his hand on her shoulder just as she came to a standstill in front of the baby serpents. Jughead’s eyes widened as she stood there, not knowing what to say. She stared back at him and they had a wordless conversation for a few seconds before Archie cleared his throat and Betty snapped out of it.

“Hey, umm we were just wondering what your doing on this side of town?” She asked, plastering a fake smile on her face and removing Archie’s arm from her shoulders.

“Why do you care, Princess.” Toni stepped forward before an arm shot out to hold her back

“Toni” Jughead said warningly, before having his arm punched away by Toni

“You’re not your dad Jughead. You have no authority over me” She said, nostrils flared “I can talk to whoever I want, especially when they’re the enemy” She turned back to face Betty.

“Hey! We’re not the enemy, you’re the enemy” Archie said, pointing at them

“That’s generally how enemy’s work Archibald, nice to see you again too. Its been too long” Jughead piped up. “Now, can you and your girlfriend get out of our way, we’re just looking for someone, then well be out of your hair.”

“Girlfriend?” Betty snorted without thinking, “In his dreams”

“Ouch Bets” Archie said from beside her as Jughead couldn’t help the smile that crossed his face. “What are you smirking at snake?”

“Hey” Betty said to Archie as the serpents began to come towards them, fists clenched, “Hey!” She shouted a second time until all eyes were on her “Can we not fight here, please. Jughead Jones, right? Can I talk to you outside” She said, eyes fixed on his.

“Why do you want to talk to him Northside?” Sweetpea stepped forward

“Hey! She’s fine, let’s talk outside Cooper” Jughead raised his eyebrows at her and she followed him out to the parking lot, leaving Archie and the Serpents extremely confused.

***

“Are we out of earshot do you reckon?” Jughead asked once they were outside “Betty, baby, look at me?”

“I think so, oh god what a mess!” Betty said, hands moving to touch his jacket, but stopping herself, aware of all the eyes watching them from inside the diner. “Why are you all here?”

“I’m sorry Bets, Tall Boy came over just after you left, saying how Reggie Mantle got jumped and to go out looking for the Ghoulies that did it.”

“So that was the Ghoulies?”

“Yeah, who else would it be?”

“Everyone’s saying that the Serpents were the ones that jumped him, Mayor McCoy too”

“Shit, we should get out of here. You’ll be ok without me if the Ghoulies turn up, right?”

Betty smirked “I think I’ll manage. I’ve got big strong Archie Andrews for a boyfriend, he’ll protect me, right?”

“You do know I only said that to be inconspicuous?” He asked

“I don’t know, maybe your feeling insecure. I’d be happy to fix that” She said with a wink and pulled him around the corner, out of eyeshot to the people in the diner.

***

“They’ve been gone for ages, somebody should check Betty’s okay” Kevin said after 5 minutes of waiting on edge for Betty to return,

“I can’t see them anymore, I’m going to see if she’s okay” Archie said in a panic

“Not so fast Bulldog” Toni said “For all we know that crazy blonde had pepper spayed him or some shit. I’m coming with you”

Archie and Toni barged each other to the door and darted down the steps, their respective friends staring on at them.

***

Jughead smiled against Bettys lips as she pinned him against the wall, pulling the elastic from her hair so he could run her blonde waves through his fingers. His hat was grasped in her hand while the other massaged his scalp. He let out a small moan when she bit his bottom lip and she giggled when he did it back. They were so caught up in each other they completely forgot about their friends waiting for them inside. That was until they heard the shocked gasps from Archie and Toni as they rounded the corner to see their two best friends in an intimate moment.

“What the fuck Betty!” Archie shouted as they leapt away from each other, Jughead’s beanie still in Betty’s hands. “Wait, I don’t understand?”

“Jones?” Toni asked, shocked “Why the fuck are you kissing a Northsider?”

Betty and Jughead just looked at each other, not knowing what to say.

“Well!”

“Arch, it’s not what it looks like, it’s-”

“Oh, so you weren’t just making out with Southside scum then?”

“You better watch yourself Archie” Jughead said, fist clenching before Betty stepped towards him and laced their fingers together.

“What the fuck are you doing Betty. Get away from him!” Archie was really losing it now, face turning bright red.

“You need to calm down Arch, you don’t know him like I do. Juggie isn’t scum”

Toni was still silent; casting disbelieving looks at Jughead. “How about we ask the others what they think about this” Archie said coldly.

Archie began to walk around the corner when Betty grabbed his wrist, tears in her eyes “Please Arch, you know what they’ll think about this! Come with me and I’ll explain everything to you I swear”

“I want answers too Jones.” Toni said angrily “But if we stay here any longer more people are just going to come out looking.”

“Fuck, okay, split up and all meet at the trailer. I promise we’ll explain everything there.” Jughead planned, fingers combing through his hair

“Please, Arch,” Betty said walking back towards Jughead and putting his beanie back on his head “Let us explain”

“Fine, let’s go” Archie said, expression unreadable

“Toni?” Jughead enquired

“Let’s get this over with, come on Jones.” Toni said, walking back around the corner with Jughead in tow.

Archie stood motionless, jaw clenched “Arch? Are you ok” Betty asked

He turned to look at her, brow furrowed “Why him Betty. Out of everyone, you chose him. A Southside Serpent”

“I’m sorry Archie, I really am but-“

“But nothing!” Archie exploded, “This is a war Elizabeth! Whose side are you on?”

Truthfully, she didn’t know anymore.

~ tbc ~

#bughead #bughead fanfiction #bughead secret relationship

27 notes · View notes

tari-aldarion · 7 years

Text

Uno and Scotch Part 1

My lovely, talented, and gorgeous beta @saved-by-the-notepad convinced me to post part 1 of the casino!AU that I’ve been working on for over a year now so...*throws it at you and then runs away*

Steve didn’t mean to become friends with Tony; it just sort of happened. It seems like one day he was a faceless dealer at Extrema, the next he was getting drunk with a billionaire genius. He knows what caviar tastes like now (he doesn’t like it) and he’s seen the Strip skyline at night from 60 stories up in a penthouse (that he does like). Most importantly, he knows Tony and Tony was the one that he got drunk with when the days were rough.

They met through Tony’s complete disregard for professional attire on the floor. Steve walked into one of the staff rooms, fresh off the floor, late one night after most of the dealers were either out working or had gone home. Tony was sitting at a table, looking at a deck of Skip-Bo despondently. It’s not like Steve could recognize Tony instantly; this scruffy-haired, goateed man dressed in dark washed jeans and a worn AC/DC shirt looked nothing like the polished, playboy Tony Stark the media portrayed.

Steve thought the man looked vaguely familiar and just assumed he was a new dealer who had recently moved. With that, Steve glanced again at the Vaguely Familiar Sad Man. Due to his promotion, he and Bucky had just moved to Las Vegas in the last few weeks; maybe he and Sad Man could become work buddies.

Years later, he would freely admit that the tantalizing curve of the man’s neck and sparkle in his eyes was the main motivation that prompted Steve to offer to play a game of Skip-Bo with Sad Man instead of his determination to believe that his sole motivation was to make a new friend.

Soon they had played 4 games and were well on their way through a 5th, with Steve quickly learning that this man’s beatific smile made Steve’s heart beat dangerously quickly. Sad Man had introduced himself by this point as “Tony”, quirking his lips for some reason at Steve’s casual response. Steve had reciprocated with his own name, throwing off his casino mandated branded tie and unbuttoning his white button down. He couldn’t help but notice the way Tony’s eyes fixated on his collarbone and the little quiet, breathy noise that betrayed Tony’s thoughts.

Flirting with people he had just met was not ordinarily something Steve did, especially after Afghanistan and Bucky, and certainly not with men. But with Tony, he found himself saying things that could only be described as playful just to watch Tony’s mouth curve upwards in response. It was worth it to watch Tony’s dark eyes twinkle with mischief as he started to casually throw out innuendos that made Steve’s neck and ears turn red.

Tony had fixed Steve with a look of intent, pausing in the game, when a tall, blonde, female force of nature came sweeping through the door to the staff room yelling, “Tony! This is exactly what we talked about!”

Tony paled and jumped to his feet, assuming a nonchalant stance. “Carol! What a surprise.”

The woman, Carol, glared and crossed her arms, her biceps stretching the striped material of her blazer in a very intimidating way. “Just because you’re mad at me doesn’t mean you get to shake me off in order to…” she gave Steve a calculating look. “flirt.”

Steve’s heart was pounding; he had completely given the wrong impression. He knew that he had to be careful but it was just so easy with Tony.

“Can’t a man just spend time playing games?” Tony tried, widening his eyes in mock innocence.

“Not when he was supposed to be at a conference explaining this and not down here in his employee’s break room!” Carol shook the new promotion flyer for the gaming expo Tony Stark was hosting next week at Extrema.

Steve whipped his head around, pointing an accusing finger at Tony. “You’re Tony Stark!” Tony had the audacity to look amused.

“The pleasure’s all yours.” He leaned across the table and grasped Steve’s finger, shaking it like a typical handshake as Steve continued to gape. Steve tried to wrap his head around the fact that the scruffy man in front of him was not only his boss, but the richest and most well-known casino owner in the world, not to mention a mathematical genius. After mentally running through the past few hours, Steve realized that he maybe should not have flirted so much with a technical genius and panic began to form in the pit of his stomach. Tony frowned at the look on Steve’s face and snapped his fingers in front of him.

“Steve? Steeeeeve?”

“Stop harassing your employees with, god what is that? Skip-Bo? Dammit, Tony, I thought you had better taste than that.” Carol gave several purposeful tugs on the back of Tony’s shirt until he began to walk.

“He volunteered.” Tony grumbled, walking out of the room with Carol following close behind.

Their good-natured bickering faded away as the door closed behind them and Steve was left sitting in the break room, still half in his work uniform and staring at a half-finished game of Skip-Bo, wondering what the hell just happened.

Do you like UNO? Steve stared at his phone for a long time, pondering this unexpected text. He had a pretty good idea who it was from but how Mr. Stark (Tony?) got his number and why he was texting Steve was a mystery.

I don’t play it often enough to answer that. He responded before he had time to second guess himself.

Oh Stevie, we must rectify this tragedy. I’ll bring the UNO, you bring the Scotch.

Steve paused. This is a bad idea, this is a bad idea, this is a bad -

Where and when will I find you?

I’ll find you was the strangely cryptic reply and Steve pocketed his phone, trying to ignore the nervous fluttery feeling in his stomach. He straightened his tie and opened the door to walk out onto the already busy floor. Sam, his pit boss, ambushed him before he got too far, placing a friendly hand on Steve’s shoulder and smiling.

“Steve! You forgot to pick up your tips last night. Did you leave in a hurry or something?”

“Or something.” Steve muttered. Sam’s eyebrows wrinkled and he gave Steve a searching look.

“Is this about Barnes? I thought the insurance was taking care of him.”

Steve shook his head. “No, Bucky’s doing much better. In fact, everyone we’ve talked to has been optimistic and his attitude has been significantly better ever since we moved here.” A little smile blossomed on his face as he recalled Bucky’s excited expression as they discussed prosthetics with the doctor.

“Then why the sarcasm, Rogers?” Sam continued to look intently up at Steve, insistent on understanding the hesitance behind his words.

“Last night was…unusual.” Sam stared at Steve, forcing him to elaborate further. “Fine. I met Tony Stark and we played Skip-Bo for three hours.” Steve admitted.

Sam’s dark eyes went wide and he dragged Steve into a corner by his collar; Steve protesting mildly at the shorter man’s actions. “You did what? The man hasn’t been seen for months and then you just happen to find him and play one of the worst card games ever with him for hours?”

“Well, it’s not like I planned it.” Steve said, defensively, pulling his arm out of Sam’s grip and smoothing the wrinkles out of his shirt with a careful hand. “He was just there and I didn’t know who he was.”

“Still. That’s weird. What was he like?” Steve’s blush did not escape Sam’s notice. “Steve. What did you do.”

“Nothing! He’s just…flirtatious.” Steve crossed his arms defiantly in the face of Sam’s judging face. “Okay so it was easy to be flirtatious back but I didn’t let it go anywhere!”

“That’s good because you seem to forget, Steve, that for all intents and purposes, you are married to Bucky.” Sam hissed, leaning into Steve’s space. “And you know why you can’t let that fail.”

Steve sighed, dropping his arms. “I know, Sam. I know.”

“-ony! Are you even paying attention to me?”

“Huh?” Tony said intelligently, looking up to face the imposing redhead glaring down at him. Pepper folded her arms and snapped,

“Can you put that away and at least pretend to pay attention? This conversation only pertains to the future of your casino and your life.” Tony winced at her sardonic tone and sent the last cryptic text to Steve before sliding his phone into his pocket and holding his hands up in surrender.

“Okay, Pep, what is it?”

“People are beginning to wonder if you exist, Tony. Financial backers are hearing whispers that you’re delusional and paranoid. Someone even started a rumor that you’ve been captured and held for ransom! You haven’t been out to anything public in months. That’s unusual for anyone, much less someone with your reputation and previous history.”

Tony crossed his arms like a petulant child and sprawled back in the chair. “I would think that this would be a good thing - no more scandals for you to clean up. I have said this too many times but I’ll say it again if you want me to: I’m busy.”

Pepper placed her palms firmly on the tabletop and leaned over, saying, “You call it working; I call it hiding. Just go out to a fight or a premiere of something for god’s sakes. It wouldn’t kill you.” Tony gave her a hard stare but she refused to back down.

“Pepper, I’m not-”

“Tony, if you say that you’re ‘not ready’, I will shove my new Weitzmans down your throat and demand that you buy me new ones. It’s been two months, you need to put it all behind you.”

“Fine.” Tony snapped. “The gaming expo is next week, I’ll go to that.” He got up from his chair and strode over to one of the large windows that made up the back wall of Pepper’s spacious office, staring out at nothing. “But I’m not bringing a date, Pep.”

Pepper looked sadly at the tense line of Tony’s back and shoulders. She straightened her white skirt suit before crossing over to Tony in a few, firm steps. She reached up to grasp his shoulder in solidarity, purposefully showing him that he was not alone.

“Tony, I’m not going to force you to bring a date. Just please don’t cause another international incident like Stockholm; we’re trying to convince people that you’re still sane.”

Tony turned and pulled Pepper into a tight hug, whispering, “Thank you.” into her ear. He pulled back, demanding that Carol go shopping with him to find the shiniest shoes possible. Carol pushed herself from her place leaning against the wall and shared a fond look with Pepper before walking after Tony. Pepper blew out a tired breath and slumped into a seat, wondering if it was too early to have a glass of wine.

Tony turning up at Steve’s small Toyota when he was heading out for home that night was surprising and yet somehow not, considering Tony’s complete disregard for privacy before. He didn’t feel the need to offer any explanation either, just gestured for Steve to follow him after Steve had grabbed the bottle of Scotch from his car and then started talking animatedly about something ridiculous that one of the whales had done earlier in the day.

Steve found himself following Tony and just nodded and laughed at, what he hoped, were the appropriate moments. It seemed like Tony was a whirlwind of tense energy that night; completely opposite of his listless charm from the night before. Steve was wary and yet intrigued.

Suddenly, he realized the conversation had stopped and they were in an elevator on their way up to…somewhere. Tony was looking up at him with a cocked eyebrow and a smirk lifting up the corner of his mouth. Steve flushed a bit and Tony’s smirk grew, his beard highlighting the upward curve of his lips.

“I must say, you’re certainly very agreeable. I never would have pegged you for someone willing to follow a person they just met up to a strange place unarmed.” Tony said, casually leaning back against the elevator railing and rolling up the sleeves to his button down.

Steve looked away from the sight and remained where he was: hands behind his back, feeling tense but not sure why. “Who says I’m unarmed?” he responded.

Tony hummed noncommittally, staring curiously at Steve’s chest where his dog tags lay. Steve felt discomfited under his intense gaze and shifted away from where Tony lounged against the railing. “I suppose you’re right.” Tony murmured, pushing himself upright to stand next to Steve. Steve suddenly couldn’t breathe at the close proximity and the heat he could practically feel emanating from Tony’s body. He held himself perfectly still as the elevator came to stop with a slight ding and the doors slid open. Tony walked forward, pausing only to say with a grin, “I shouldn’t assume anything of you, Captain.”

Steve was frozen for a moment at his old title, and the knowledge that Tony definitely had boundary issues, but quickly recovered and strode after Tony into a gorgeous penthouse.

It seemed to be at the top floor of Extrema and had floor to ceiling windows and an open floor plan that allowed the lights of the city to shine through the rooms without restriction. Tony turned to Steve and said, “Don’t freak out.” before calling out, “JARVIS, lights to 40% please.” The room was immediately bathed in a soft light while the nightlife of Las Vegas continued to light the penthouse in colorful and bright hues as a calming British voice emanated from the ceiling.

“Good evening, sir. Justin Hammer has called twice and left a voicemail. Ms. Potts also wanted me to remind you about the meeting tomorrow. She specifically asked that I emphasize to you that the dress code requires a slightly more professional attire than your customary work clothes.” Tony chuckled.

“All right, pick something out for me, J, and set a reminder for the meeting so Pepper doesn’t kill me.”

“Of course, sir.” Tony looked back at Steve who was staring in amazement at the ceiling.

“JARVIS is my AI. He pretty much has control of the whole building. He’s integrated into the security software, into my penthouse, and into both my phone and Pepper’s. JARVIS is the reason no one can ever successfully rob my casinos. He keeps me in line and on time.”

“Y-you designed an AI?” Steve asked, astounded.

Tony shrugged, attempting to look casual but a small, private smile spread over his face. “Yeah.” He said, looking fond. “Not just a pretty face, eh?” A blush flooded Steve’s cheeks but Tony had already turned to saunter further into the penthouse.

Steve trailed after him, entranced by the view from the window. He walked over and felt a rush of vertigo as he looked down to where the city bustled below him. He heard Tony padding behind him and when Tony called, “Do you want anything besides the Scotch?”, Steve would forever deny that his voice was breathless when he answered in the negative.

He turned from the window to look around the open room, observing that there were very few personal items adorning the walls. The only thing that set this room apart from a photo in an advertisement was a large canvas photograph of a young, blonde woman wearing a dark green dress, seated and holding a baby boy wrapped in a deep blue blanket. The picture showcased a snapshot of a tender moment as she was staring down at the baby with a loving smile on her face. Steve took a moment to appreciate the soft lighting in the picture and the quiet happiness in the expression on the woman’s face.

“It’s a picture of my mother and I.” Steve turned to Tony, who was now standing at Steve’s shoulder holding two crystal tumblers of scotch. Tony’s gaze was fixed onto the canvas and Steve saw the same love that shone through the mother’s captured smile was reflected in Tony’s dark eyes.

“She loved you.” He said quietly, turning his head back to stare at the painting with Tony. He saw a bitter smile twist across Tony’s lips out of the corner of his eye.

“The fiercest anger of all, the most incurable, is that which rages in the place of dearest love.” Tony murmured. Steve hummed in agreement.

“Euripides did have a way with words.” Tony looked at Steve, his eyebrows raised in surprise.

“Well, well, soldier. I am impressed.” Steve shrugged while a pleased smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

“Even soldiers can have a classical education.” Tony laughed and whatever lingering tension hung in the air dissipated

Steve tore his eyes away from Tony’s grin and accepted the drink held towards him. Tony gestured to a table that had several UNO decks laid out and said, with a sudden twinkle in his eye, “Time for me to kick your ass at UNO.”

Steve smirked over the rim of his glass. “We’ll see about that.”

A few hours later, Tony threw his cards across the table and ran a hand through his already disheveled hair in frustration. “How the hell do you keep beating me? You haven’t played this game in years!”

Steve sat back in his chair, feeling smug and pleasantly warm. He should probably drink more water and less scotch and also maybe stop focusing on how Tony running his hands through his hair make it look mussed and soft. It leads down dangerous thought paths like is that what Tony’s sex hair looks like and can I please run my fingers through it too. The worst part of it was that Tony was still wearing his suit pants and white dress shirt from whatever important meeting he had earlier today but his sleeves were rolled up, he had discarded the tie, untucked his shirt, and unbuttoned the collar so that his collarbone and the long line of his neck were perfectly visible, especially when he laughed. Which he did. Often. Steve wanted to lick it.

Even so, Tony hadn’t tried to flirt as openly as he had the other night. No innuendos, lewd winks, or long looks filled with heat had been exchanged at all. The reason why became obvious when Tony checked the time and carefully said, “It’s getting late. Won’t Barnes be worried about you?” Steve had no other response than to stare at Tony, eyes wide with surprise and a small amount of worry. Tony shrugged. “I looked you up in the company files. I was curious.” Steve huffed out a small laugh.

“I looked you up too,” he said with a mischievous grin and Tony grimaced, rubbing his face with his hand.

“And yet, you still followed me up to the Penthouse? My, my, Steve, you must not have read the right articles to trust me like that. Maybe I should send you some of the really flattering ones.” Tony’s tone was teasing but with a sharp edge that belied his opinions about his reputation. Steve shook his head and leaned forward, his elbows resting firmly on the table, his eyes intent on Tony’s face.

“I don’t believe that the man who plays UNO with one of his employees for three hours can be the cold hearted, depraved,” Tony winced, “son of a bitch that I read about. But,” he added, leaning back in his chair, “that’s just one man’s opinion.” Tony looked at him, eyes bright.

“Glad to know someone believes that.” He flashed a grin at Steve and then suddenly became very serious, crossing his arms and tensing his shoulders. “Seriously, Steve, those days are behind me. I don’t want to create the wrong impression, especially after last night.” He took a deep breath and dread boiled in the pit of Steve’s stomach. “I need to clarify something.”

“What?” Steve was hesitant but something in Tony’s eyes was soft enough to assuage Steve’s nerves.

Tony clenched his jaw, looking determined. “I wouldn’t have flirted if I knew…”

“Yes, I know.” Steve interrupted hurriedly, desperately wanting to be done with this conversation. Tony arched an eyebrow at Steve’s curt response but nodded, uncrossing his arms and leaning back in his chair, the tension leaking from his shoulders.

An awkward silence fell over them. “Well, I guess I should.” Steve jerked his thumb towards the door behind him.

“Yeah.” Tony said, standing up. He walked Steve to the door in silence and Steve got in the elevator, turning around as Tony reached into the elevator to press the lobby button. He stuffed his hands into his pockets, glancing up and making uncomfortable eye contact with Steve for a moment.

“I’ll text you.” Tony said, suddenly and Steve nodded.

“Okay.” He said simply as the doors closed.

“You like him.” Bucky accused, interrupting Steve’s description of the events of yesterday. “See, that look right there tells me that you do.” He laughed at the affronted look that appeared on Steve’s face. Steve pushed Bucky’s accusatory finger out of his face and scowled, the frustration that had been building for the last few days shoving him roughly back into reality.

“It doesn’t matter whether I like him or not, Buck.” Steve regretted the bitter words as soon as he saw the look on Bucky’s face. He closed his eyes and sighed, slumping back into the couch and against Bucky’s side. They were silent for a moment and then Bucky said quietly,

“We don’t have to do this.” Steve sat straight up, radiating frustration.

“We do and we are.” He said firmly, turning and staring Bucky down. “There is no other way to keep you safe and taken care of.” Bucky was the first to look away, huffing out something that sounded fairly derogatory towards Steve’s stubborn stance.

After another moment, Bucky broke the silence to mention that Stark Labs would have a prototype for him to try next month. Steve broke out into a wide grin.

“Buck, that’s great!” He said enthusiastically, his grin mirroring the one on Bucky’s face. “Didn’t you say that you were going to meet your new physical therapist today?” Steve remembered. “What do you think of him?”

“Her.”

“Oh?” Steve said, casually. Bucky narrowed his eyes and made a face.

“Don’t get any ideas, Steve. Sure, she was….great. But definitely not my type”

“Not sarcastic enough?” Steve chuckled.

“Not nearly. She’s sweet and I like her though. I think we should introduce her to Thor.” Bucky added.

Steve’s eyes lit up. “Movie night?”

“Movie night.” Bucky agreed. “I already invited her.”

“Of course you did.” Steve rolled his eyes. “Well, fortunately, tonight is Rom-Com movie night, perfect for matchmaking.” Thor was notorious for his love of romantic comedies, citing his native country’s lack of such movies as the source of his feelings but drunk Thor dashed his reputation by revealing his strong romantic side. “Thor’s bringing the movie?”

“Obviously.” Bucky scoffed. Steve shoved an elbow into Bucky’s side, laughing at the yelp that elicited.

“Get your lazy ass off the couch and help me clean up before everyone gets here.”

“The romance! It’s gone.” Bucky mocked, dramatically throwing his hands into the air. “Am I nothing more than free labor to you, Steve?”

Steve stood, pulling Bucky up from the couch with him. “How could you say that after I work my ass off providing for you?” He gasped, melodramatically clutching at his chest.

Bucky just laughed and shoved Steve in the direction of the kitchen, satisfied to see that Steve was smiling, the brooding look disappearing from his face.

#uno and scotch #YEAH SO THAT'S PART ONE #I DID SO MUCH RESEARCH FOR THIS FIC #I KNOW A LOT ABOUT CASINOS #FOR SOMEONE WHO'S NEVER BEEN TO ONE #my writing #eventual stony #stony #stevetony #pepper potts #carol danvers #bucky barnes #sam wilson #casino!au #casino owner!tony #casino dealer!steve #veteran!steve

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