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#I filled it with just enough love square shenanigans to make you groan
the-lighthouse-lit · 2 years
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Over | Again
Teen titans fanfic | BBxRae
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2
───
Chapter 1: Dude (3,833 words)
She wouldn’t have come if she’d known they would be here.
Rachel looked to her right, past the bar she sat to, across the room, to a table in the dining area. Garfield Logan and half the girls from their class, being the rambunctious table every waitress hated.
All Rachel had wanted was a milkshake from her favorite diner. She’d already placed her order by the time she’d seen her classmates, and now she had to sit here and hope she wouldn’t be spotted.
Just as she snuck a glance, Gar threw his head back and laughed, and the edges of his eyes scrunched up, and her heart skipped a beat. She tore her eyes away. Time slowed down when she looked at Gar—she had to be careful not to stare.
Rachel Roch had many secrets. But the weirdest, most unthinkable one, the one she kept guarded like an ancient, reality-breaking sacred artifact, was that she was in love with Gar Logan, Murakami High’s sweetheart.
She pushed her cropped hair behind her ear, feeling for her earrings as was now her habit, and sipped her drink methodically at regular intervals, self-conscious as she only got when Gar was nearby.
After a while, she eyed the group again and, sure enough, Kitty Moth was still all over Gar. Rachel looked away.
It was sick fascination at this point. Why did she keep putting herself through this? Watching the boy she liked be surrounded by girls who threw themselves at him because they loved the idea of having a rich boyfriend. And Gar was oblivious to it—or else he was too nice to do anything about it. A teenage movie star who’d grown up as an heir to a multimillion dollar company, and none of it had managed to make him an asshole. If she strained her ear she could hear them now, trying to wrangle entry to Steve Dayton’s latest party. None of those girls seemed to ever notice Gar got uncomfortable when his-step dad was mentioned—none of them seemed to even notice Gar referred to him as ‘step-dad’.
And what was the good of Rachel noticing, anyway? It wasn’t like she ever talked to him. In fact, everyone thought she quite hated him, including Gar himself. She’d heard from Kori who’d heard from Toni Monetti who’d heard from Garth Rivers who’d heard from Kole Weathers who’d heard from Victor Stone that Gar had been asking Dick Grayson why Rachel Roth disliked him so much, he’d been her friend since preschool, he would know.
Even Kori herself has asked her why she hated Garfield after that. If her best friend couldn’t tell the truth, Rachel’s secret was completely safe.
Out of the corner of her eyes, Rachel saw Gar get up. With dread burning in the pit of her stomach, she realized he was coming over here.
Her gaze fixed on her milkshake and she couldn’t muster it up, even when she willed herself to. She paid for it when he had to lay a hand on her shoulder to get her attention.
“Hey. Dude,” he said, in the nervous tone of someone who didn’t know if they were getting a response.
Why did Gar put himself through talking to her? It couldn’t have been a pleasant experience for him. He was just the type of boy who’d refuse to ignore a person he knew in a public setting. Damn him.
“Hey,” she stated. The word sounded defeated even to her own ears.
He had a hand on the counter. His green shirt hung off his slight, slender frame, and matched his green eyes. Blonde hair fell over a freckle-splattered suntanned face. His easy, boyish smile disarmed her, as always. “Why didn’t you come join us?”
Her eyebrow creased, incredulity making it through her stony façade. ‘Us’ was Kitty Moth and her lackeys. The self-appointed popular girls of Murakami High. Girls who, when they decided to acknowledge her existence, did it by shoulder-checking her in the hallway, or pinching their noses when she passed by in the locker room. Rachel didn’t care about any of it; she was considerably more offended that Gar thought she would go play nice with them. Leave it to boys to not notice the makeup of their own social circles, Rachel guessed.
“I’m not friends with those girls,” she said. His eyebrows creased upwards in mild panic, and she kicked herself. He had likely taken her to mean he was included in that group, or else why would she be refusing his invitation?
He still took a seat next to her, and she marveled at how sweet he was. He was determined to spend an allotted amount of time with her, when he could have perfectly ignored her, like she ignored him; and he would surely keep saying hello in school even as she did her best to steer clear of him, and talk to her when they ended up in the same lunch table or study group. How was she ever gonna get over him if he kept being so adorable?
A waiter promptly came over, because everybody at every place Gar went to took good care of their most important patron. “Will you want your food brought here?” he asked Gar.
“Uh, no, I’m over there,” Gar said, pointing at his actual table.
Rachel thought he would leave then. But when the waiter left he asked her, “Did you do the Philosophy homework? I lost my whole night to that.”
And it made her want to die. Homework. He was talking to her about homework. She would listen to him read out a calendar—that wasn’t the point. The point was that she’d made herself so unknowable to him, all he had to go on was the fact that they went to the same school.
“I haven’t done the homework,” she said.
And even though her tone was decidedly uninviting, her saying anything seemed to spur him, and he went on to talk about how much he hated that Hobbes guy.
She let him talk, slowly rotating her glass on the bar—the more Gar stayed, the more her stomach did cartwheels, and the less likely she’d ever finish her damn milkshake. All she could think was this was probably the most boring conversation he’d had all day, and that thought immobilized her and kept her from talking—it was a vicious cycle. Her eyes glared straight ahead, and she counted down the seconds until the time for being nice to the standoffish girl ran out in his mind, so he could go back to his world.
This was why people thought she hated him. She was always angry when she was around him: angry at how her back would get stiff and unmoving, her mind would blank over sixteen years of acquired social skills, and she couldn’t bring herself to make eye contact. Her anger at herself showed up on her face and communicated to him that she hated his guts for no reason.
She liked him. But she hated being around him. Because when it came to him, she saw so much, knew so much, felt so much, and when he was next to her, their interactions were stuck in shallow, uninspiring small talk between her unyielding coldness and his relentless friendliness, and she was forced to realize he saw nothing, knew nothing, and felt nothing about her.
When he came near he shattered the reality where she could just love him from afar. She’d much rather he just stayed away.
The tell-tale buzz of the communicator on her left pocket came to shuffle her priorities.
Trouble.
Her back straightened, her mind cleared, and she swiftly took out her wallet and left the money for her drink on the counter.
“I just remembered I had to be home by—now,” she stated, realizing she had no idea what time it was towards the end of her excuse.
Coincidentally, Gar had also gotten up. “Oh! I-I think I left my front door open.”
They two stepped away and snuck out of the diner, never seeing through the other’s bad excuses.
───
Moments later, Raven flew into the scene. The trouble was a ten-foot creature—a glowing white heap of vaguely humanoid goo, currently rampaging what had been the east wing of STAR Labs.
When the monster saw her, it growled at her, its body shook and shot goblets of its form towards her. She dodged the attack, levitated several of the wooden crates around her and hurled them at the creature.
They went straight through it; the creature seemed to stagger and regard the new holes on its chest, before they filled in. It roared; this had only seemed to make it angrier.
Okay, then. This would need a bit more effort.
Raven concentrated, pulling everything she’d recently and very speedily learned about her new powers to wrap them around the creature and push it down. Her focus broke when she was grabbed from behind; she looked down to see the same white slime the monster was made of. It must have split its form to seize her, and now the rest of the creature advanced towards her.
Alright, so it had a brain in there.
Raven didn’t struggle physically: she went still and tapped into her powers to get free—when the creature was struck by a green flash. The monster staggered, and the fragment holding Raven dissolved. A green cheetah turned into a green rhino and struck the creature, which receded, and fell as a pool of goo with a final fading shriek.
“Anyone called for a hero?” the green boy quipped as he morphed back to human. He made a point to push his wild green hair back and strike a pose as he stood.
“Beast Boy,” Raven greeted, dusting herself off. She let a small smile play on her lips as he sauntered over to her.
“Raven,” he replied. Masked gaze met masked gaze. His shamelessly eyed her up and down. “Looking as good as ever.”
Behind him, the goo became monster again. A warning died on her lips as he got into action, turning into a gorilla to repel the slime limb that had shot out towards him.
They both took to the air, Raven levitating and Beast Boy taking the form of a pterodactyl.
“I was wondering if you would show up,” Raven said as she shot blows of dark energy towards the monster.
“Aw, you missed me,” said Beast Boy between hitting the creature with his hind legs.
“More like I was asking myself if I could expect you to do your job.”
“You know you can count on me,” was the last thing he said before he dove into the creature—and came out on the other side, covered in goo.
“Yeah. That doesn’t work,” said Raven, landing beside him.
He had turned back to human to stare in horror at his dripping hands. “Thanks for warning me.”
While they regrouped, the monster seemed to forget them and continued to tear through the crates around them. This seemed to have been a STAR Labs’ depository.
“What’s that thing, Rae-Rae?”
“I don’t know. And don’t call me that.” But she’d heard his real question: if they didn’t know what it was, how were they going to defeat it?
Raven looked around her, to what was left of the room, and focused her power on the pipes overhead, bringing the force of water to subdue the monster. It had the opposite effect: the creature grew several feet before Raven noticed and cut the current short.
“That’s why we can’t hurt it, it’s all watery!” Beast Boy complained.
“If it absorbs water…” Raven turned to her partner, “can you turn into something that’ll electrocute it?”
Beast Boy’s green eyes twinkled as he smiled brightly at her. “Way ahead of you.”
He jumped off the ledge, turned into an eagle, flew to the creature and turned into an eel inside it. The creature screeched as electricity racked its body.
That was what did it. The creature receded into slime and gave way to a man in a lab coat, lying unconscious on the ground. The man groaned as Beast Boy held him up, both steadying and restraining him.
Raven touched down next to them, lifted the man’s head with telekinesis, and saw the tell-tale glazed look in his eyes. “Mind-controlled,” she confirmed.
“Mento strikes again,” said Beast Boy.
“When is it ever anyone else?” Raven closed her eyes and held her hands to either side of the man’s head. As her hands glowed with power, Beast Boy watched her. Raven drew the hood of her cloak over her head whenever she could, but right now it was down, and her long purple hair spread out freely, and her brow furrowed ever so slightly as she concentrated, making a small ripple in the calm lake of her small olive-toned beige face. No matter how many times he stared at her and committed her features to memory, he could never remember once they were out of costume. Such was the technology of their jewels—it almost seemed like magic.
Once Raven undid the effects of mind control, she and Beast Boy did the usual routine of comforting the person who’d just woken up and explaining they had been mind-controlled.
“Do you remember what he sent you to do?” Beast Boy asked the man.
“I don’t…” the man held his head. “He told me to use my clearance to investigate this area. This isn’t my department, but I have coworkers here—I knew what was here was dangerous. But he told me to explore it… I couldn’t disobey.”
“Something in here made you turn into that monster?” Beast Boy asked, and the man nodded.
“No one can withstand Mento’s mind control,” Raven assured him. “Did he tell you what he was after?”
The man shut his eyes tight. “Something about a portal? I-I can’t remember anymore.”
The two superheroes assured him this was also normal. Mento’s orders faded away like a dream once Raven broke the effect.
After they sent him home, the teen superheroes made a disappearance before reporters crowded the scene. Beast Boy looked at Raven, walking through rooftops like a somber shadow –she always took their inability to get to Mento to heart-, and felt it necessary to say something to shake her out of her gloom. “Wanna go get food?”
She gaped at him, which was a step-up from her beating herself up in Beast Boy’s books. “In our costumes?”
Beast Boy shrugged. “Make a drive-thru employee’s day.” Then his eye twinkled and he brought his face close to Raven’s. “Or maybe you want something fancier. Are you finally gonna let me take you out on a real date?”
Raven pushed his face away. If left to his own devices, Beast Boy might actually close the gap. “Let’s go to McDonald’s,” she said all the same. She’d never gotten to finish her milkshake.
───
“You think we’ll ever actually catch Mento?” Beast Boy wondered later, as they sat on a rooftop surrounded by empty food papers. “He’s got to be planning something, I mean… he started out sending people to rob banks, pretty standard stuff, but why’s he messing with STAR Labs now?”
“That’s up to the League to figure out.” Raven firmly believed she and Beast Boy were the clean-up crew in the larger scope of organized superheroes. She accepted that role; her main concern was in helping where she could. They didn’t have the resources or the clearance the League had: realistically they would never catch Mento, so it made no sense to waste their efforts.
“You were willing to rap about it with Robin when he showed up.” Beast Boy made a show of crossing his arms and sounding like a sullen child.
“He has some sort of detective background,” Raven said, refusing to acknowledge her partner’s show of jealousy. “Plus I wasn’t theorizing. He was making guesses and I was listening. I’m not good at investigative work.”
“Hey, don’t sell yourself short. We’re the career superheroes here, him and the others are part-timers.” As he said that, he slung an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close, so their bodies touched and his voice vibrated on her chest—just like he planned it to, surely.
Raven allowed it and didn’t push him off. Her partner was a flirt, and flirting was fun, Raven had recently found. It was probably the mask, she reasoned; it made you feel free. It didn’t have to mean anything.
But then he lowered his voice and whispered in her ear, “Jump City’s real protectors. The Beast and his Beauty.”
And she considered she needed to take him down a notch. She turned to face him, leaning back to put some necessary distance between them, and said, “Mmh, you strike me more as an elf than a beast.” She reached to flick his pointy ears, which were sensitive. He jumped away, holding his ears, making a surprised smile at her. She quickly squashed a satisfied smile of her own.
Beast Boy seemed to take the hint and stayed on his spot of the roof. “Ha, the kid from the drive-thru posted the picture!”
Raven looked over. Beast Boy had his communicator open on the picture the drive-thru kid had requested with them, after she’d finished freaking out. Raven hadn’t even known their League of Superheroes-issued communicator could go on the Internet until Beast Boy tried it.
“Dude, you have to get an account for your superhero self,” Beast Boy told her. “Look, I’m tagged, and your name is just a sad little non-hyperlink word.”
“Just as I like it.” Who calls a girl ‘dude’? she thought. “I don’t need to know what people think about me all the time.” Superheroes usually held a unanimously good public opinion by virtue of being both vitally necessary to society and untied to government institutions. That didn’t mean Raven wanted to take her chances.
“Well, I’m used to it. I’m actually more famous as my civilian self.”
Raven looked at him in shock. “Don’t tell me things about your civilian life. We’ve been over this.” She quelled her frustration when someone’s rooftop couch and table got encased in dark energy. “That’s so specific, I could easily find out who you are,” she chided in a more level voice.
He held his hands up with a grin. It was one of the many times his carefree attitude irritated her.
“Our powers depend on us not finding out who the other is,” she reminded him.
“How would they know, though?” he asked immediately, leaning in. He was always ready to push this particular point at the drop of a hat. “How could they know we know?”
“We got the report of trouble in STAR Labs before the employees themselves got the notice to evacuate. It’s safe to say they have eyes everywhere. They would know.” And if they wouldn’t, I don’t care about your identity enough to risk it, she added in her mind, but that would be too cruel to say.
Beast Boy seemed to take that in stride, shrugging and leaning back on his hands, turning to the twinkling city skyline with a smile.
Raven knew his civilian self. She was sure of it. He’d told her too much for her to ignore the fact that they had crossed paths before. If she thought hard about it, she might be able to figure out who she was, and she turned those thoughts away whenever they came up for that very reason. She didn’t know why the League didn’t want them to know each other’s identities; she only knew it was the condition to keep her powers and continue helping people, so she’d obey the rule.
But information seemed to seep out of Beast Boy. It came faster than she could censor him. Once they’d had to take over a speeding bus, she’d asked him “Can you drive?” and instead of a simple “No,” he’d said, “I’m fifteen!” Once he’d been complaining about his day and name-dropped a teacher, and she’d realized he went to her school. He was a lost cause.
It was hard to believe he cared about anything. She bet he’d only agreed to the superhero gig because he enjoyed the spotlight. If he accidentally revealed his identity and had to turn in his ring, he’d probably just start a TikTok account.
“I would know if I knew your civilian self,” he said suddenly. “I know you too much. I’d just know.”
Raven met this bold statement with pure skepticism. “You know me? Really.” She jutted her chin at him. “Go on, then. Tell me how I am.”
She regretted it when she saw his face—a rare serious expression graced it. He stood and offered her his hands. She took them. When she was standing, he didn’t let go.
“I know you agreed to the superhero gig,” he began. “You got the mysterious box, followed the instructions, tried on the earrings, and went out to fight bad guys. That means you care. Deeply. I know your powers work with feelings. They only work if you feel. So you seem emotionless, but you’re not. You’re full of emotions.”
He was staring deeply into her eyes. It was one of those moments Raven believed Beast Boy loved her, like he said.
“I know you do the best by every person we meet. I know any day where I don’t see you is worthless. I know you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met. I know being around you makes me feel like I’m right where I’m supposed to be all the time.”
His hands still held on to her. She edged back. “Beast Boy,” she started.
“Don’t worry, I know,” he said quickly. “You love someone. You told me.” He made a sad smile and let go of her hands. “So, I’m not gonna make a move. But I’m not gonna let you forget I’m in love with you, either.” His eyes wandered to either side of him and he grinned, inexplicably. “Or lose hope.”
She only saw it when he pulled away—a sofa and chairs and potted plants, levitating by way of her powers. She snapped out of it, gained control of herself and set the furniture down softly. By that time Beast Boy had walked to the edge of the roof, where he grinned at her, waved, and flew away as a raven.
Beast Boy had a point, she thought as she went home herself. Her powers left her no place to hide; they showed she cared, they left her heart out in the open. If only she had that in real life, she reflected—physical proof of your feelings, there for everyone to see. Then perhaps Gar would just need to look at her to know how she felt.
───
A few notes:
This is a lighter fluffier world ok. The tone is like halfway between TT world and MLB world. So they’re dumbasses around each other and Raven has a little less control over her powers, BUT the setting is a bit more realistic and there’s no kwamis or colorful empowered citizens, just high tech and plain mind control respectively.
I actually hate Rachel as Raven’s real name (it’s fine as an alias) but in this setting it was necessary
I have a thing for one-sided BBRae but on Raven’s side and this is the fic I threw all of that self-indulgent goodness in
I’ve recently learned a ficlet is supossed to be less than 1,000 words and this isn’t that, but I chose to call it a ficlet anyway to indicate this isn’t gonna be a longfic, and because other people use the word ficlet for over 1K fics and language is made up anyway
I hope you enjoyed reading! :)
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d0llhousess · 3 years
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⇢ fandom: blue lock ⇢ pairing: nagi seishiro x f!reader ⇢ genre: fluff ⇢ warning/tags: established relationship, , just tooth rotting fluff, domestic fluff, sweet-tooth!reader, just overall fluffy shenanigans with your favorite forward. 
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⇢ summary: you loved sweets and so did he, so why not attempt to make your favorite treat together? 
⇢ word count: approx 1.3
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⇢ a/n: we’ve made it to day five, guys! And as you know day five is my actual birthday, so why not write for my favorite boy at the moment! This really was purely self indulgent, but I do hope you guys enjoy this as I did have tons of fun writing it.  Thank you again so much for supporting me, and reading my works <3
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⤆ Back to Week of Fic’s Masterlist
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“You’re sure we have everything?” 
You glance away from your kitchen’s island, looking at the pensive face of your boyfriend. Nagi’s eyes were firmly locked on the printed out instructions in his hands, body leaning against the counter as he stood beside you. You tug your lower lip between your teeth, eyes going back to the counter counting each ingredient before you shifted your gaze back to his. 
  “Yeah!” You confirmed with a nod of your head, “Now all we have to do is get started on the baking part.” 
Hesitantly, your eyes flicker from the ingredients to your boyfriend’s face. Neither of you move, waiting for the other to be the first to pick up a utensil, the only sound in your apartment’s kitchen is the soft ticking of the small clock beside the oven.
It wasn’t the first time the two of you cooked together, as it was an activity that you learned to do more as a couple than individuals. Yet, it was the first time you’d attempted to bake together. 
You were nervous despite the worst that could happen from a failed baking experiment  was a horrible tasting treat. But for some reason, you wanted this to turn out nice, and you were sure Nagi was feeling your same emotions, even if he didn’t show them on his face like you did. 
“Why aren’t you starting?” Nagi asks you, taking you out of your thoughts. He still has  not moved from his position against the counter, and your eyes narrow slightly. 
“Why aren’t you?” You shoot back, head tilting as he meets your gaze, bright eyes becoming more luminous under the fluorescent lights of your kitchen. 
“I’m reading the instructions.” 
 A snort leaves you as you shake your head, poking his bicep as you leaned in closer to him. 
“Nun-uh,” You replied, “You’re not sticking me with the hard stuff, Sei.”
“But-”
“We’re doing this together, Sei,” A small pout forms on your lips, as you blink up at your boyfriend. Your hands leave their position from the counter, going to cup his rounded cheeks. Smushing them together, you let out a slight giggle at his slightly blank stare. 
If you didn’t know Nagi, you’d think you were annoying him, yet the slight blush on his cheeks told you otherwise. Placing a soft peck against the tip of his nose, you stepped away from him, eyes roaming over the instructions as you grabbed the large boal you set out for the dry ingredients. 
“Besides,” You began, a teasing smirk spreading onto your lips, “You’re better at cooking than I am.” 
Nagi rolled his eyes, but he began to move around your kitchen, grabbing the freshly washed strawberries before picking up the much smaller empty bowl. A soft hum escapes him as he begins to mix the sugar and strawberries together, and you can feel your shoulders relax as his low yet ariose tone fills your ears. 
“Flattery will get you nowhere,” He comments dryly as he turns to place the mixture in the fridge. 
A giggle leaves your lips as you begin sifting the dry ingredients together, eyes flickering from your boyfriend to the mixture as you attempt to focus on the task at hand. You feel Nagi’s eyes on you watching you as you sift the dry ingredients, and a small smile plays onto your lips before the words can  even leave his lips. 
“You really are cute, you know that right?” He tells you, taking a few steps so he’s right beside you once more. You shrug your shoulders, placing the sifter on the counter before you pour the premeasured heavy cream into the bowl, eyes glancing over the instructions once more before you begin to mix. 
“I’ve been told that once or twice,” You respond, turning to hand him the bowl. Your fingers brush against his as he accepts the bowl from your grasp, yet before you can step back from him, he’s placing a small kiss on your lips. 
Your body freezes, a smile only he can draw out from you appears on your face as you blink up at him. Yet instead of responding to you, he just turns to begin to pour the mixture into the baking pan that’s already on the kitchen counter. The smile doesn’t leave your face as you reach over to hold the pan steady as he pours, and a comfortable quietness settles between the two of you. 
Yet, you don’t mind the silence. Spending time with Nagi, you never felt the need to fill the air with idle chatter just to soothe yourself. His mere presence was enough to make you feel at ease, and even when he’s as quiet as ever, doing a mundane task like pouring batter into a pan, you feel at peace. 
Once the pan was filled, you let him put it into the oven. As he closes the oven’s door, you grab the last empty mixing bowl, waiting for him to turn around before you hand it to him. His brows shoot up in surprise and you give him a bright grin. 
“Make the whip cream for me?” You ask him, giving him your best puppy dog eyes, which just results in him shaking his head, a snort leaving his lips. Yet, he begins to collect the mixture for the cream, before he mixes it together with the electric hand mixer. 
As Nagi mixes the cream together, you set the timer for the cake, before your arms wrap around your boyfriend's waist, resting your head against his back as you felt the slight vibrations from the mixer tremble through his body. Your eyes flutter closed, relishing in the warmth that came from being close to Nagi’s heated form. 
Once Nagi mixed the cream to the right consistency, you feel him pull away from you slightly, and you step away from him. You go to check the cake as he takes out the strawberries, the two of you moving around the kitchen in a practiced, yet natural pattern. At the sight of the now golden cake, you place your designated oven mittens on, before taking out the baking pan and placing the cake onto the cooling rack. 
Nagi steps beside you once again, licking at his fingers as he observes the cooling golden cake. A small grin appears on his lips, as he scoops another drop of whipped cream on to his fingertip, holding it out for you to taste. Without hesitation, you accept his offer, licking the whip cream off the tip of his finger before pulling away. A soft groan of approval leaves your lips as you nod your head. 
“Not bad for our first try, hm?” He grins at you, before he moves past you to grab a dessert plate from your cabinets. 
You nod, grin mirroring his as you begin to cut the cake into slightly imperfect squares, plating one after he placed the plate beside you. You let Nagi place the strawberry mixture  and whip cream on top of the cake, as his hands were much more steady than yours. As the two of you stared at your finished product, you let out a light giggle. 
“I guess we do make a great team,” You turn to face him, words as sweet as the strawberry shortcake you’d just made. Picking up the small fork that was on the plate, you sliced the cake before scooping up a small potion and holding the fork out to Nagi. 
He leans into you, accepting your offer, and  eating the first taste of the cake the two of you made. You watched as he ate the food, waiting on his review as you leaned against the now dirty and cluttered counter. 
“Good?” You question, head tilting as you placed the fork back onto the plate. 
Nagi nods, lips twitching into a soft smile as he placed a soft kiss against your lips. The kiss doesn’t last long and only a mere second passes before he’s pulling away from you. Yet, you don’t feel disappointed, no disappointment was far away from your heart. 
“Of course it’s good,” He eventually declared, fingers trailing the curve of your jawline as you gazed at him, “We made it.” A snort left you, before the kitchen is filled with your light giggles. 
“Fuck, Sei, You’re so cheesy.”
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3pirouette · 3 years
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Fic: Hello, Darling (1/1)
Title: Hello, Darling By: TriplePirouette/3Pirouette Disclaimer: They're not mine. Distribution: AO3  Anyone else please ask first :)
Story Summary:  Instead, he reached for his phone. He hit the only button that seemed to matter at the moment.
Her voice was warm. “Hello, darling.”
“Peg,” he sighed, closing his eyes. “Oh, your voice is just what I needed.”
Angst. Satisfies the Fake Dating a square for the Steggy Bingo Bash. AU, obviously.
A/N: Timeline is as close to sort-of right as I can make it for an AU. 2017 is post Civil War, 2016 is during Civil War, 2014 is during AOU, other time stamps should be self-explanatory. I hope this makes as much sense for everyone else as it does to me- this concept was a little hard to get on paper. I wrote this in about... 2 hours? Couldn’t sleep until I got this out of my brain. Also, I’m sorry. Please get some tissues. More AN at the end.
~*~ 2017
Steve flopped on the bed, wiping his forehead. They’d been training, hard, and he was drained. He and Natasha were spending their days whipping the new iteration of the team into shape and spent their nights sweet talking whatever government officials would listen to them while still trying to stay off the grid.
Their position in multiple areas was shaky, to say the least.
When he couldn’t sleep, which was most of the time, he wrote letters to Bucky, who was still in stasis in Wakanda. The letter writing was a calming ritual, and made him feel closer to his friend when he was doing it, but when he saved the letter instead of sending it, it left him feeling a little more alone than when he started.
He didn’t want to move tonight. He felt empty and exhausted and so very, very much like the small man he used to be on the rickety old bed.
He looked at the second-hand laptop, closed and charging on his desk, and turned away. He couldn’t take that feeling tonight.
Instead, he reached for his phone. He hit the only button that seemed to matter at the moment.
Her voice was warm. “Hello, darling.”
“Peg,” he sighed, closing his eyes. “Oh, your voice is just what I needed.”
Her voice was warm, and there was a smile in it. “Well, I’m just a phone call away, as always.”
“Yeah,” he replied, just a hint of sadness seeping through. He took a deep breath and shifted up on the pillows, closing his eyes and holding the phone tighter to his ear. “We were training again today.”
“How are they pulling together?” She asked, bright and interested. “Has Wanda gained more control?”
“Every day,” he replied quickly, a smile quirking at his face. “She’s more powerful than I think any of us were prepared for, even her. She’s still doubting herself, though.”
Peggy chuckled through the phone. “After what she went through, I’d doubt myself if I were her, too.”
Steve rolled to the side, pulling a pillow tight into his arms. “True.”
“Give her time,” Peggy soothed him. “Think about how long it took you to get the hang of your new body.”
He laughed out loud at that. “What, all thirty seconds or so?”
“I seem to recall you crashing through a store’s front window display fairly immediately.” Her laugh was like bells, light and happy. “Though that was followed by months of tests, followed by months of kick lines.”
Steve groaned at the memories. “The tights… and those boots.”
“I rather liked the tights,” Peggy flirted. “Though, the point of my mentioning, is that it took you rather a few months in the field to figure out you could lift a tank, and that became one of your favorite tricks. Give the poor girl some slack.”
“Actually, fitting my entire body behind my shield was one of my favorites.”
“I still don’t know how you do that.” She sighed. “But it is quite a trick.”
“She is getting the hang of it,” Steve relented. “It’s just been… hard.”
“I can hear the weariness in your voice.” She was soft and gentle. Steve closed his eyes and pretended he was wrapping himself around her. “Have you been taking care of yourself?” She sighed when he didn’t answer. “Steve…”
“I don’t know how…” he drifted off, changing course mid-sentence. “I’m tired, Peg. I’m tired of fighting and running but that’s… that’s all that’s left.” He rolled to his back, throwing his free arm over his head, some of the plaster of the wall of the old boarding house falling on his forehead. He wiped it away with a heavy groan of frustration. “Back then, I had so many plans. After the war…”
“We shan’t be going there, darling.” Her voice left no room for argument.
He was quiet for a moment, the emotion boiling up in him. When he finally spoke, his words were soft. “I miss you. I miss you so, so much.”
The pause was almost too long, and it broke him just a little bit more. “I’m here, Steve. Only a phone call away.”
He sat up, frustrated. “For a little while I had it- I had everything. I had you, I had Buck, I had new friends, and I could… I was…”
“You were almost happy,” she whispered. “We’ve said these words too many times.”
“I don’t…” He took a deep breath and let his head fall to his hand. “I don’t know how to move past it. I can pretend I’m ok, but… but I’m not.” He laughed to himself. “I wouldn’t be calling you if I were ok.”
“I’m here for you, Steve,” she replied sharply. “You call me when you need to call me, when you want to call me. Good or bad. I just wish… I wish there was more good.”
“Me, too.” He cleared his throat, sitting up. “Tell me something good, Peg.”
He thought he could hear a smile in her voice. “Pulling yourself up by your bootstraps, eh, Rogers? Well, then, I can tell you that yesterday I came across a very silly video of a sneezing baby Panda and no matter what your mood, I promise you’ll feel better if you watch it.”
He pulled the phone away from his cheek when it vibrated in his hand, the video popping up on his screen. He laughed, despite himself.
“You always know exactly what I need,” he mumbled out loud.
Her chuckle was soft, just like he remembered. “Lucky, I guess.”
“I love you so, so much, Peg.” He turned serious. “I wish… I wish I could see you.”
“I love you, too, my darling.” She replied softly. “And I’m only ever just a phone call away.”
He could feel the familiar pangs of depression swirling, and knew talking longer would do him no good. Not tonight. “I should… I should go.”
“Good night then, my love.” Peggy’s words were so full of love he could scarcely believe it. “Don’t wait too long to call again.”
He didn’t answer her, just nodded to himself. “Good night, Peg.”
He pulled the phone away from his ear, looked at it, and tossed it across the bed. Like his letters to Bucky, sometimes he felt worse after talking with her. He laid back on the bed, the springs creaking under him.
He wasn’t going to sleep tonight, not with the way his gut was roiling and the loss so close to the surface. Her voice was always a double-edged sword. Some nights, it was enough to bring him back to life, to remind him of whatever little purpose he felt he had left.
Sometimes, it was only filled with loss and the could-have-beens and should-have-beens.
Sometimes, he wished Tony had never given her back to him.
~*~ 1988
“Anthony, get this blasted thing out of my face.”
“Come on, Aunt Peg, no one is better at telling me what to do than you are.”
Peggy looked up from where she sat at the table in what was supposed to be a dining room, but was often used as an extended work space when Peggy and Howard had to pull long nights. “Under no circumstances.”
Tony pulled a chair up next to her and held out the tape recorder towards her. “Under all circumstances.” He started ticking it off on his fingers. “When I almost blew up the garage when I was eight. First time I got caught with a girl in my room. First time I got caught with booze in my room. First time I tried to create a jet pack. Who yelled at me? You did.”
Peggy pursed her lips at him and turned in her chair. “Concerned correction.”
He smiled, shrugging. “See? Concern, correction… all things I’m going to need in the future.”
Peggy swiveled back and picked up a file, eyes firmly set on the writing though she wasn’t reading anything. “Things you need now.” She didn’t look up. “Can’t you go badger Jarvis? Edwin has far more practice at humoring you.”
He laughed and smiled sweetly, moving the tape recorder in front of her. “Indulge your Godson in an experiment?”
“I seem to indulge you Starks far more than I’d like.” She leaned back in the chair and tossed the file back on the table. “Tell me about it.”
“Well, you see, I actually need you to tell me…”
~*~ 2014
Tony hadn’t looked at these cartridges in years. He pulled FRIDAY up and loaded her, knowing the program would make do for now. He could make some upgrades, and mourn Jarvis, later.
He ran his fingers over the last few cartridges as FRIDAY was integrated into his systems and found one that he hadn’t thought about in decades. It had been so long that the ink was almost faded completely away.
He didn’t need the label to remind him what was on there. He remembered each story, each lesson, each crisp English word with a sharpness that he liked to pretend didn’t exist. It was the only AI that was as old as Jarvis.
Tony laughed out loud. There was no way Ultron would have come to be if this was the AI he’d chosen to run his life with instead of Jarvis. She never would have allowed it.
She never would have allowed half of his shenanigans. She had been right all those years ago: Jarvis had always indulged him more. Aunt Peggy had no qualms about telling him, and often stopping him, when he was about to do something stupid, whereas Jarvis would give him an exasperated sir and follow behind, helping to clean up the mess.
He could have used some of her guidance so, so many times since he built that armor. Before, too, to be honest. He should have revisited her AI years ago.
He should visit her in the nursing home.
He knew exactly why he didn’t.  
He flipped the cartridge onto his work desk and slid the rest back into their box to be stored. Save the world first, tongue lashing from his Godmother second.
~*~ 2015
The icon showed up on his phone one day without explanation. Two hours later the text from Tony was nearly as mysterious.
Click the icon and you’ll be routed to an update on an old project, kind of like a phone call. Totally sanctioned, of course. I think she’ll get a kick out of it.
When he told her one day in the nursing home, she laughed.
“That boy had me record hours and hours of tape,” Peggy smiled. “I wondered if he ever got around to making it. I would have rather liked to have another one of myself around while I was still running SHIELD.”
“So, you did know,” Steve asked, “that Tony made an AI of you?”
Peggy looked at him, her eyes sharp and disapproving. “Of course, I knew. And while I didn’t ever say it, I was quite insulted that he eventually chose Jarvis over me.” She sat up in her hospital bed, gray hair falling in waves around her face. “Dial it up, let’s see what he got right, shall we?”
~*~ 2016
He was still in his suit and tie, his cheeks puffy with the tears he only let himself shed in the privacy of his hotel room. The church had been hard, but letting the coffin settle into the cold dirt had been harder.
She was gone.
And he was alone.
He picked up his phone, intent on checking his flight for the morning when an icon he scrolled past daily caught his eye.
He rubbed his thumb over the edge of the screen, temped.
He checked his flight, but it was perfunctory and he couldn’t recall, by the time his thumb hit the other icon, if it was still on time or not.
Slowly he lifted the phone to his ear. He knew from the few times he’d called at the nursing home with her that there wouldn’t be a ring tone, and that he had to be the first one to talk. “Hello?”
“Steve?”
Her voice through the line was young and vibrant, the way her remembered it from all those years back: red rimmed lips and bright eyes in just the vibration of sound.
He lost his breath.
“I’m so glad you called,” her voice was happy, bright.
He’d just left her in the ground, and yet…
Yet…
“Peggy.” He barely got the word out, the emotion choking him.
“Are you alright, Steve?”
“No, I…” he couldn’t speak. He didn’t want to continue, but couldn’t tear himself away.
“I’m right here, Steve.” Her voice was warm and welcoming, like honey and home and everything he was missing. “Tell me when you’re ready.”
He was quiet for a moment. He contemplated hanging up and deleting the icon.
Instead, he spoke, his words broken and full of loss. “I miss you.”
Her voice wrapped around him through the phone, “And I miss you, darling. But I’m right here. I’m just a phone call away, any time you like.”
He nearly laughed the way her words warmed him. She was so real- had always been every time he talked to the AI.
But she wasn’t real- just an amalgamation of information Tony had stored for decades.
He held the phone away for a second, contemplating his choices. He wanted to walk away, but the loss was still so raw. He pulled the phone back to his ear.
Just for today.
He told himself he’d pretend just for today.
Over the phone, he could pretend she wasn’t dead. Could pretend she hadn’t aged and lived on without him.
Just for today, just until he could get past this pain, he could pretend.
“I guess,” he cleared his throat, trying to banish the thickness in it from the tears, “I guess I should call more often, then.”
“Absolutely. I will accept nothing less, Captain.”
He smiled and sat on the bed, tears falling from his eyes as he listened to her voice.
It was just for today.  
~*~ End Notes: Saved this to the end to avoid giving this away. Deeply inspired by Hayley Atwell’s episode of Black Mirror, “Be Right Back.” If you haven’t seen it, you should.
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fictionalabyss · 3 years
Text
Eight kids and counting.
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Pairing : Garth x Reader, Hailey -15(OC), Hunter -13 (OC), Twins Connor & Coen - 8 (OCs), Twins Amber & Aaron - 5 (OCs), Jackson - 3 (OC)
Word count : 1,909
Written for : @spnabobingo​
Square : Pups.
Warnings : A/B/O,  Pregnancy, breeding kink mentioned in passing, Heat (mentioned), children roughhousing/not listening to mom, minor injury, almost a fire, pregnancy brain. Fluffy.
Beta’d by : @artemisthebadger​
Masterlist • Patreon • Ko-fi.
SPN A/B/O Bingo Round 5 Masterlist.
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“Mommy!” Amber, your 5 year old daughter, whined from next to you as you tried to set the dining room table.
“Boys..”
“Mom!” she tugged on your shirt.
“Boys, please..” They were running, fast as they could, chasing each other around the house showing off how fast they were getting. Your 8 year old twins coming into their abilities with reckless abandon, and bringing the other children into their shenanigans as much as possible.
“Mommy, Aaron he-”
“Hunter, can you please get them to stop before they-” You heard a crash, one twin yelling that he was okay while the other yelled it wasn’t him.
“I got it, mom!” Came your oldest son, now 13 years old.
“Mommy!” Amber yanked on your shirt and you heard a stitch tear at the strain. “Aaron he-”
The fire alarm sounded and you yanked her hand off your shirt a little harshly as you ran for the kitchen, cursing the whole way. “Shit, shit, shit, shit!” You burst back into the room to find Hailey, your oldest child at 15, pulling dinner from the oven.
“Sorry mom.” she winced at the roast now charred black.
“Shit..” Your shoulders dropped.
“Mommy, you keep saying bad words.” Amber scolded.
“I’m sorry honey. And for whatever Aaron did-”
“He gave my new dolly a haircut.” she held up the doll that had no head and claw marks down it’s front. “With his claws.”
“AARON!” you called out in a firm tone.
“I didn’t do anything! She’s lying!” he called back from wherever he was.
“Mom?” Hailey tried to get your attention. “Did you have something in the other oven, too?”
“SHIT!” you yanked the oven mits from her hands and pulled open the oven, smoke billowing out and making you cough.
Firm hands yanked you back and pulled the burning hot tray from your hands and tossed it onto the counter. “Hailey, go open the windows. Hunter, you get the door. Amber, honey, you bring mommy out back for some fresh air okay.” he crouched down to her eye level. “The smoke isn’t good for the baby.”
“Aye Aye, Daddy.” She saluted him before taking your hand and leading you towards the door. “Do you think you can fix her, mommy? Or do I need a new dolly again.”
You sighed. “I’ll see what I can do.” You glanced down and she smiled. “And I’m sorry I didn’t listen when you tried to tell me.”
“It’s okay, mommy. I’ll just cut his hair with my claws.”
“Please don’t.” you groaned, stepping out into the fresh air.  She gave you an innocent grin that you knew not to trust. “You’re supposed to be the good one, Amber.” you teased as you dropped to sit in the porch swing, hand moving over your large stomach. “Our little angel, remember?” you poked her nose and her whole face scrunched up making you chuckle.
“Is Aaron the evil twin?” You cocked an eyebrow at that. “Hailey says that there’s always a good twin and a bad twin. That Hunter was so bad he ate his!”
“Hailey!” you called out and shot an accusatory glare at the doorway to the kitchen, despite her not being there.
“Then tell Hunter to stay out of my room!” she yelled back from inside the kitchen.
“Then stop taking my things!” Hunter shot back.
“Come on, guys.” you groaned, letting your head fall down. You heard footsteps approaching, and you didn’t even need to look up to know who it was. “No more kids, Garth. I swear to god. Eight is more than enough.”
“You weren’t exactly stopping me.” When you looked up, he had a smirk on his face. “In fact, you were rather encouraging.”
“I’m sorry.”
His eyebrows came together in confusion. “About what? About encouraging me so many times? Wouldn’t change a damn thing.” he was smiling wide again.
“About dinner.” you pouted up at him, and his smile fell. “I burnt it all, I- shit!” you shot up from your seat. “I had things on the stove, I-”
“I turned them off, relax.” he chuckled, stepping closer and bringing you into a hug.
“Did I ruin them, too?”
“No, they were just... overdone with love?”
“I ruined them.” you started to cry.
“Hey, hey, don’t cry, it’s okay. It’s just dinner, it’s no big deal.” Garth ran one hand down your hair while the other went up the back of your shirt spreading warmth in its wake. The feel of his skin against yours was calming. “Take a deep breath for me, breathe it in.”
Taking a deep breath, you let the smell of him fill your nose. He smelled of sweat, since he hadn’t showered yet, wood, gunpowder and “Chocolate?” your head snapped up to meet his eyes.
“Ruined the surprise.” he teased, before pulling a chocolate bar out of his pocket. “I know how bad you’ve been craving this the last few days.”
“They don’t even have these here..”
“Well, I found one.” he brought his lips to yours in a sweet kiss. “Feel better?”
“I will when the pack you’ve got me building starts to listen.” you teased. “It’s hard enough with my brain all scattered, but with the boys-”
“I know. I’ll talk to them.”
“No more, Garth. Two sets of twins already, the other three kids, and now this one.” you looked down at your stomach. “This is the last one.”
“Hunter was supposed to be the last one.” he teased. “And then you went into heat, and-”
“I remember.” you groaned, letting your forehead fall to rest against his chest.
“Amber and Aaron were suppose to be the last, as well.” he teased. “Second set of twins, you didn’t want to risk another. Then I came home one night.” Garth’s lips were against the top of your head as he spoke. “And you-”
“I remember.” you sighed softly, and could feel his lips spread into a smile.
“What happened?”  You groaned softly, having all but forgot Amber was outside with you as Garth sent you down memory lane. “What’s heat, Daddy?”
“We’ll talk when you’re older.”
“I wanna know now!” she stomped her foot. “I’ll ask Hailey or Hunter.” she skipped off into the house.
“Aaron messed up her new doll again.”
“Yeah, I saw it.” he sighed.
“Connor and Coen are getting faster. They’ve been teasing Jackson again.”
“And put a hole in the wall, breaking a few family pictures in the process.” Your head shot up. “Hunter’s cleaning up the mess, and I’ll get the boys to help me fix it all tomorrow.”
“No more pups, Garth.”
He smiled softly, giving you another tender kiss. “I know. Go eat your chocolate on the couch, I’ll order us all some pizza before I shower, okay? Anything you want, it’s yours, my love.” You smiled up at him, a smile filled with as much love and adoration as he always showered on you. “Except that. You said no more kids and this one isn’t even out yet.” he teased, making you roll your eyes. “Mind out of the gutter.”
“Mom? Why is Amber asking us about heats?” Hunter asked from the doorway, making you groan, your forehead against Garth’s chest again as he laughed.
“THAT’S DISGUSTING!” came Ambers yell, while Hailey laughed hysterically.
“Hailey!”
“Heats is kissing!?” Amber came out, shooting you and Garth glares, and Garth laughed even harder. “I never want a heat.” she spat. “Boys are gross.”
“You’re gross!” yelled Aaron.
“No more.” you muttered to Garth one last time.
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Pizza had arrived, and feeding time at the zoo started. The kids practically shoving each other to fill their plates and rush back to the living room to get good seats and not get stuck sitting on the floor. You watched from your spot on the couch as they rushed into the room, sometimes arguing over which spot was who’s, who had dibs and if dibs were even allowed.
This was why you didn’t let them eat in here every day. To be fair though, the dinner table wasn’t much different.
“Sit.” At the command from their father, everyone settled down. Garth all but smiled triumphantly to himself before walking over and sitting next to you, handing you the plate he’d made for you.
“Never leave.” you pleaded, making him laugh.
“Who picked the movie?”
“Hunter.” Everyone answered at once.
“Alright, Connor’s turn next.”
“Yes!” Connor pumped his fist. “Get ready for blood and guts!”
“Coen’s turn is next.” Garth countered.
“Hey!” Connor turned, shooting his father a glare while Coen grinned happily. Connor turned his glare on his twin and gave him a shove.
“Boys.” Again, at their father’s firm tone, they stopped. “Hunter, turn it on.”
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The plates were all stacked on the coffee table. Discarded crusts, chicken wing bones, and crumbled napkins formed a mountain on the top one. The kids were all focused on the action movie that played on the screen. Amber ducked into Hunter every time an explosion made her jump, while her twin brother Aaron was on the edge of his seat with wide eyes.
Jackson, your three year old, was half asleep in Hailey’s lap where she sat on the floor with her back against the couch. Connor and Coen were on the floor as well, punching and shoving each other with excitement every time something happened.
You, you had your arm wrapped around Garth’s, your head on his shoulder, enjoying the feel of his hand gently stroking your thigh. You took a deep breath, breathing him in once again, and let out a soft moan.
Garth chuckled.
“You seem happy.” he whispered quietly, his lips brushing your head.
“I am. It’s quiet, and nice. I love it.” you looked around the room at your pups, at how sweet they could be once the chaos died down.
“You said no more.” When you looked up at him, he smiled knowingly. “I can already smell that your mind is changing.” he gripped your thigh and you licked your lips.
“We’ll see in a few years.”
“Guess I’m not the only one with a breeding kink.” his voice was lower than before and in your ear.
“Don’t start, Garth.” you warned, eyes falling shut as a wave of arousal coursed through you.
“I’m so glad I found the perfect woman to carry my pups for me.” he stroked at your chin before pulling you in for a kiss.
“EW! MOM! ARE YOU HEATING!?”
You couldn’t help but laugh against Garth’s lips. “No, honey. I just really love daddy.”
“I love daddy too!”
“Then come here, princess.” Garth opened his arms, and Amber jumped down from her spot on the couch with Hunter to rush to her father’s arms. As soon as he had her in his arms, he began to pepper kisses all over her face.
“Daddy!” she shrieked as they both laughed and she tried to wiggle free. You giggled as well as you watched them.
“Oh, god.” Hailey groaned, letting her head fall back.
“What?” Hunter asked, looking down at his sister, who’s shoulder was just inches from his leg.
“That’s moms ‘I want another one’ face.”
Hunter winced. “I’m moving out.”
“We’re going to have to just to make room.” Hailey laughed. “Eight kids and counting.” she sighed.
“Better not be twins again.” Hunter muttered.
“I heard that!” Aaron shot his older brother a glare. “Now shut up, I’m watching the movie.”
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Chapter 8: Tempestuous I
SFW version here
Summary: Aika watches Julius become King; Julius goes to make his annual visit to the Swallowtail and shenanigans happen.
Notes: This chapter was actually supposed to be a lil over 10k words um 😳😳😳 but I cut it 60/40 so I'll post the next chapter next week for sure bc it's already finished. I made a lot of changes like taking away the assasination attempt that was supposed to happen this chapter. Also, there's one offhanded line that is NSFW but that's all for the chapter.
One of you have already read all 10k but don’t say anything okay? ;)))
@talpup here you go hehehe 
@kray-dragon​ you said you wanted to read 👉👈
Aika felt light despite the exhaustion weighing her down as the excited murmur of the crowd surrounded her. It has been two days since the battle and Diamond Kingdom’s surrender, but she would give them a few months before starting a ruckus again. Nevertheless, the peace and relief that it brought to Clover Kingdom had the gathered crowd in high spirits, especially since they knew that Julius was the one who delivered the final blow.
The Grey Deers were especially rowdy near the front, no doubt ecstatic that their former Captain was now Wizard King. The ceremony was already done in private and this occasion was just to introduce the new Wizard King to the public so he may be welcomed. 
She stood atop Clover castle’s outer walls with her associates as she spectated, while also keeping an eye out for any trouble.
Music played loudly to her right and the crowd grew excited as the seven new captains walked on stage.
Fuegoleon Vermillion for the Crimson Lions, Nozel Silva for the Silver Eagles, Jack the Ripper for the Green Mantises, Dorothy Unsworth for the Coral Peacocks, Charlotte Roselei for the Blue Roses, Gueldre Poizot for the Purple Orcas, and Jien Du for the Grey Deers.
It was truly a remarkable sight from a historical point of view because all the captains were replaced and all of them were around the same age, meaning that this trend would continue for a few more generations.
The crowd grew quiet in anticipation after all the Captains settled into their respective places on the stage.
“Ladies and Gentlemen!” A disembodied voice exclaimed. “Put your hands together for our new Wizard King,” A handsome man wearing a voluminous cloak of deep red, shouldering a white, furred cape, adorned with medals and a cross emerged from the depths of Clover Castle.
“Julius Novachrono!”
The crowd exploded with approval as their cheers, screams and applause filled the air. The sudden noise startled Aika but thankfully, she barely had any mana after the battle so none accidentally escaped. She couldn’t see him clearly from where she was standing but she certainly noticed how he squared his shoulders as he cast his gaze across the sea of people.
Their voices seemed to soar high into the heavens and she couldn’t help but smile at the scene. Jayce was hollering his heart out next to her, screaming how he was Julius’ number one fan. He had been standing close to the former Captain when he eviscerated the enemy two days ago and had been starstruck ever since. 
Ellie clapped politely as Evan let out a whistle or two. Aika would have clapped as well but she was leaning heavily against the edge of the wall, barely even able to stand up straight. She had already suffered the indignity of asking Jayce and Evan to help her walk as if she was some frail, old grandma. She would not also cause a commotion by trying to stand and then fall.
“And finally, please welcome your honorable king,” the announcer stumbled on the last few words. “Augustus Kira Clover the 13th!”
The applause was much more muted and they barely let out a cheer or two. Augustus looked outraged at the gathered crowd and opened his mouth to make his displeasure known but Julius quickly cleared his voice before their “honorable” king could and began his first speech as the Wizard King. Aika listened keenly, secretly reveling in his familiar voice. He spoke at length about hope, faith and love and ended his speech with a hopeful message that had everyone grinning and cheering once again.
Aika leaned back far enough so she could clap this time because she was blown away by the absolute natural way he commanded the stage and the crowd. He was made for this.
Then, the Grey Deers who were standing guard at the front split the sea of people so Julius could go step down to greet and interact with the citizens themselves. The crowd allowed the Magic Knights to create a human barrier for one moment as the new Wizard King planted his feet on level ground, before chaos ensued. People pried the barrier apart and the knights were powerless to use magic in such a cramped space.
Aika tensed for a moment, thinking there was going to be an attack but let out a surprised laugh when she realized the situation. Women threw themselves at Julius, nearly tearing his robes apart and Aika nearly fell backwards with laughter at the sight of him trying to dodge their kisses.
Evan, Jayce and Ellie shared a nervous look as they got ready to catch her if she was actually going to fall. They have never seen their boss so exuberant when she was sober in all the 6 years that they have known her. Aika caught their looks and quickly pursed her lips, an uncontrollable grin still spread across her face.
“Cheer up, you three. I can actually laugh now,” she said teasingly.
“We’ve noticed,” Evan murmured, sending a careful look at Jayce, silently begging him to think before he spoke.
“Yeah, you seem to be in a better mood. Are you and the Wizard King really fu—” Ellie smacked him upside the head before he could finish.
Too late.
Aika’s cheery disposition quickly dissipated.
“No, Jayce,” she said, her voice cold. “As far as everyone is concerned, nothing ever happened at all, understood?”
The crowd standing around on the wall with them started moving for the exits to make their way to the festivities in the plaza. Ellie looped her arm with Aika’s and Evan took her other arm so they could help her walk. She threw a disappointed look at Jayce and sighed. He flushed in embarrassment and rubbed his head apologetically.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Where to, Miss?” Ellie asked as her grimoire fluttered open, throwing a deadpan look at Jayce.
“To my home in Hage, please,” she sighed again as she looked back at Julius among the crowd as he tried to fend them off. Aika turned away before the first pangs of jealousy and longing could hit her. It was just a silly crush. 
A portal opened in front of them at her behest and they quickly stepped through it before the crowd could jostle them around. With Ellie’s spatial magic, she assisted Aika with errands, delivered messages, helped her travel around the world and sometimes even provided support in battle.
Aika sighed contentedly at the transition from the loud crowd to the peaceful noises of nature in the countryside. She felt old at this thought. 
They quickly ushered her into the house and helped her sit in her armchair. She stretched out in her seat and groaned at the sore feeling sufusing through her limbs. Her backpack, which she nearly never took off, poked her uncomfortably in the back but she put up with it anyway.
Aika opened her eyes slightly and her three protégés were looking at her with various levels of concern. She let out an amused huff as she waved them off.
“This is normal. You three should be used to this by now.”
“I mean, you warned us,” Ellie began as she lightly scratched her white, coily hair. “But we have never seen you perform a spell that big so we didn’t know what to expect.”
“I suppose that is true,” Aika hummed before wincing as pain unexpectedly coursed through her body. Jayce urgently strode into the kitchen at this.
“I was initially doubtful if you could handle my spell, Miss,” Evan admitted as he looked down at his hands. “I was completely ready to let the spell loose even at the expense of our allies if it meant we could weaken or even defeat the enemy.”
“Evan.” He looked up at Aika’s unexpectedly strong tone. “I would never put you in a position where you have to make such difficult decisions.” She smiled reassuringly. “I have only asked you to perform the spell because I knew I could handle it. If there is anything that you can depend on in me, it’s that I know my limits. Please have more faith in me.”
He blinked slowly at her heartfelt words, before he smiled boyishly.
“But you’re still pretty weak from it,” he retorted uncharacteristically.
“It was worth it, was it not?” she quipped back, happy that her little speech didn’t sour his mood too much.
Jayce came back from the kitchen with a slightly wet towel and handed it to Aika with a concerned look.
“Here.”
“Jayce…” She shook her head at this gesture with a small smile. It was his way of apologizing for his words earlier. “It is alright. You don’t have to worry too much.”
“Heh,” he carded his fingers through his hair. “If you say so, boss.”
“I have a new assignment for you guys,” Aika quickly began when she noticed Ellie’s mischievous smile. If she started teasing him, an argument was sure to erupt.
They turned to her attentively.
“I have noticed residues of forbidden magic in the abandoned cottage near the church here. It isn’t anything urgent and I’d like for you three to enjoy the festivities in the capital, so take the day off and in a day or two, I’d like for you three to report on your findings, alright?” Aika would have joined them but she was too weak to move in her state so she’ll take a well-deserved break for today. She eyed the gift bag by the entryway. She put together a few gifts for Julius, hoping to give to him today as a sort of welcome but she lacked the energy to move so it would have to be at another date. 
She needed to get a lot of work done. She had to clean out both this house and the Wizard King’s study, where she spent most of the time working, so Julius could use it instead. Master Raymond wasn’t the reading type so he leased it to her for free and she enjoyed that space and she had a feeling Julius would too. Speaking of the headquarters,
“Don’t forget that you also have your day jobs at the headquarters, okay?”
“Yes, ma’am!” They saluted her eagerly.
Aika nodded proudly. She was slowly introducing them to working in environments immersed in forbidden magic so they could take on bigger field assignments in the future. They were still young, only in their early twenties, so she should be careful about how such magic would affect their mental development, seeing as it completely fucked up hers. She would like to think she was fine, but she really wasn’t.
They bid her goodbye with their bright smiles, exuding youth in every way Aika wished she could feel at the moment. Though she stopped aging properly at twenty-five, maybe twenty-six years, weg magic was exhausting and she felt like she had been living longer than she should. It was probably because she hadn’t properly slept in over a decade and a half.
Aika laid the cold towel across her nape with a sigh, though the sensory overload from the pain made everything, including the texture of the towel, seem unpleasant. She shrugged one strap off of her shoulder so she could push the backpack aside and the rune on her forehead began to itch lightly— 
Wait a minute, she sat up straight. 
There was a Swallowtail filled with her magic in the woods behind the church. Wait. There were also mini-Swallowtails in her backpack right now. She could recover her magic faster this way. In her excitement, Aika nearly forgot she couldn’t use the Swallowtails inside her loft because they power various magic stones for heat, light, water, ventilation, preservation and some miscellaneous experiments.
Aika leaned back and groaned.
This meant that she must get to the big Swallowtail herself. She could ask Ellie for help but none of them except maybe Julius and herself know about the Swallowtail and they most certainly don’t know about her Time Magic. Most people thought Aika was a weak water mage who was physically strong, used forbidden magic to make up for her shortcomings, and could use a sword well.
She needed to keep her real attribute a secret because states with more sinister plans have hunted her in the past. So much so that they even threatened to destroy their own allies. That part of history was rewritten by Arthur. He stopped a war and changed everyone’s memories and in exchange, he got Holly.
She buried the memories once more as she locked her joints and stood up carefully. No point in dwelling on things she couldn’t change.
There was an old broom in the closet that she could use to get to the Swallowtail. She walked carefully, leaning on the furniture along the way. Aika stifled any groans and put her weight on the wall next to the closet door and opened it. She paused.
There were bloodstains everywhere. 
It must have been from when Arthur was stabbed and bound in here.
Aika sighed as she added another task on her to-do list and picked up the broom next to creaky hinges of the closet door. She gently eased herself onto it and smiled in relief. It would be easier to move this way.
She quickly shot out of the house, relishing in the speed in contrast to her turtle-like pace the whole day and took the straightest path to the Swallowtail.
Julius extricated himself from the last of the women as Marx made a way for him to escape the crowd. He was hoping to maybe talk to them, maybe leave a more personal impression on them, but today was not his day apparently.
“Sir, are you alright?” Marx asked as they quickly strode into a side entrance to the castle. Julius chuckled lightly as he rubbed his lipstick-smeared cheek.
“Yes, of course, Marx. Just a little...violated.”
Marx smiled as he let out a huff. “I will be very honest with you, sir. I didn’t think that was going to work.”
“Well, perhaps I should organize a town hall so it would be more regulated.”
“I will see if your schedule allows it in the near future, sir.”
He smiled in gratitude as Marx shook his head.
“Alright, well, I got a message that the preparations for the banquet are nearly done and it would begin in an hour—” 
“Marx, would you take care of that?” Julius interjected suddenly.
“Sir?”
“An hour is perfect. I have an important errand I must attend to and it won’t take me long…” He finished quietly, knowing he wouldn’t believe him.
“An errand today?” Marx asked, his voice raising up a notch. “An errand on one of the most important days of your life?”
His annual trip to the Swallowtail so he could deposit his magic just happened to fall on the day he became Wizard King. And a few minutes alone might also do him some good. The weight of what he had just accepted still hasn’t properly set in.
“Um, yes?”
“Julius!”
“It will only take me a few minutes!” He put his hands together pleadingly. “Please?”
Marx let out a heavy sigh as rubbed his temples. He just hoped he wouldn’t be as irresponsible as to miss the banquet entirely.
“Alright, fine. But you better not be looking at magic when I come looking for you!”
Julius grinned in reply.
“Of course! Thank you, Marx!”
In a blink, he quickly phased out and landed in the forest clearing where the ancient magic item was. The sudden change in environment and the heavy weight of the robes grounded him to his current situation.
It was utterly surreal. He was Wizard King.
Julius let out a hysterical laugh as he rested his head against the Swallowtail.
Adrenaline rushed through his veins as his fingers clawed at the cool, metal surface. He could finally help Clover Kingdom for the better. There were so many things he could do, so many things he could change.
Starting off with the Magic Knights. Incentivize and reward good behavior, send more knights to patrols realms where they aren’t accustomed to so they learn to like and protect people below their class, even involve himself in policy as Aika had suggested and think about education. The next generation are the future after all.
His mind was racing with ideas but he took calming breaths before he completely lost his cool. He still had a banquet to attend and nobles to pander to.
He looked intently at the giant, six-pointed star on the Swallowtail as he gathered his thoughts. He should finish his business soon. The sooner he put his mana in, the sooner he could recover it. He slowly started pouring his mana into the ball. He also needed to make sure he had enough left to teleport back.
Julius turned as he felt a presence moving towards him at high speeds. He stopped as he squinted at the figure on a broom, their form silhouetted by the Sun behind them.
His vision grew blurry momentarily as he prepared to transform. It would be a strange and suspicious sight to see the new Wizard King in the Boonies. But before he could do anything, the mysterious person landed in the clearing at an unnatural speed.
Julius’ eyes widened when he realized who it was.
“Aika?”
When Aika landed near the Swallowtail, she couldn’t believe who it was. She scrambled off of her broom and used it like a staff to lean on.
She could clearly see all of Julius now, no longer a bright, robed figure in the distance.
And my god was he a sight to behold.
His medals shone in the sun and his red, velvet cloak made him look like the king he was. When her eyes met his, they glinted gold for a moment and she had to remind herself to breathe. 
Though, the effect was slightly dampened by the fact that he was covered in lipstick marks.
“Aika?” he asked disbelievingly. She brought three fingers to her chest in a salute as she tamped down any tremors, whether it was because of her fatigue or emotions.
“Your Highness,” she intoned as she bowed her head. That’s it. He was only the Wizard King to her. Nothing more, nothing less.
“Oh,” he exhaled in amusement. “There’s no need for that. We are way past that. Please,” he said reassuringly. “Call me ‘Julius.’”
Aika’s face gingerly lit up into a grin. The expression felt strange on her face but she couldn’t help it. She was simply glad that they weren’t going to be awkward. She clutched her broom tighter before she could fall as she spoke.
“Well then, congratulations on becoming Wizard King, Julius,” she walked sluggishly towards the Swallowtail, still facing him. “How do you feel?”
His jaw fell slightly, momentarily surprised by her nonchalance. Most people’s attitude changed in the few moments he walked in his Wizard King attire. Even Marx, whom he was most familiar with, grew more serious. But he supposed he shouldn’t be surprised. He seemed to be “just Julius” to her no matter how he was. His chest tightened at the thought. It was a strange sensation.
Julius rubbed the back of his head with a sheepish grin as he relaxed. There was no need for him to be officious with her after all had been said and done. 
“Well, the feeling hasn’t quite set it,” he began. “But, I do suddenly feel the urge to do something, change something,” he confessed, his eyes shining with determination. After their night of shared vulnerability, no matter how sourly it had ended, it felt natural to be himself with her.
He couldn’t help but grin when she looked away with a secretive smile. He knew he still had a chance. He simply needed to go slow this time.
“That’s good. I’m eager to see what kind of revolution you would raise.”
Julius had plans to make connections at the banquet and he had already had a draft of an awards system somewhere in his head. But for now, it was only them in this clearing. He could be himself. He pressed a finger to his lips and leaned forward as if to share a secret. 
“Shh, don’t tell anyone though,” he said playfully. “It’s a secret.”
Aika giggled despite herself.
“I suppose you are going to change the kingdom before the nobles even realize.”
“Exactly! You—” He quickly caught her as she stumbled. “Get it…” he finished quietly, concern strewn across his face.
“Hey, what’s going on?” Julius asked as he looked over her. She was beginning to sweat as she took shallow breaths. “Are you alright?”
Aika exhaled sharply when pain shot up her back.
“I’m fine,” she lied, waving him off as her jaw clenched. It didn’t go unnoticed by him. 
“No, you are not,” he hissed.
“Fine, I’m not,” she snapped back. “Just help me get close to the Swallowtail.” She stiffened when he wrapped an arm around her waist. Julius noticed and silently apologized as he guided her delicately.
“What’s going on?” He asked.
She sighed as she pressed herself against the magic device. There is no harm in telling him and he would need to know just in case he ever needed for her to do a forbidden spell or a ritual.
“I’m still weak from the spell on Saturday.” She brought the mana in the device carefully up to the surface and she felt her strength returning to her, bit-by-bit.
“Spell?” His brows furrowed. “What spell?”
“Remember the giant, blue fireball?” His eyes widened. She quickly clarified before he could think it was her who summoned fire. “Evan was the one who conjured up the fireball, not me. But he can’t control the spell so I had to use weg magic to take control of the spell and guide it towards the enemy while holding them in place.”
Julius looked at her with virtual stars in his eyes.
“So that Mana Zone spell was yours? And you guided that Sun in the sky?”
Aika grew bashful at the admiration in his tone.
“Ah, well, I had a lot of practice for Mana Zone and it wasn’t that big. I’ve seen bigger fireball spells,” she murmured as she bit her lip. 
“Bigger—” He took a double take as the twinkle in his eyes shone brighter. “Where!? I want to see a bigger fireball!”
She laughed at the cute expression on his face.
“I’ll show you sometime,” she promised as she continued to fill up her mana reserves. Aika was silently glad her plan worked. She was no longer sore all over, no doubt the life essence of her mana healing her, and she could stand unsupported.
Julius looked curiously between her hand and the Swallowtail.
“But why do you seem to be in pain? Fatigue is common for mana exhaustion but I have never heard of pain,” he remarked as he laid his own hand next to her, slowly sending out his magic into it. It was what he originally came here for after all.
She sighed heavily. Just thinking about it exhausted her.
“It is one of the side effects of using large amounts of corrupted magic. It is quite harmful to a human body.” Aika explained the long list of effects and how incapacitated it leaves her. “It’s quite painful but it’s incredibly useful so it has its pros and cons.”
She felt flattered by the worry on his face.
“Are there any long-term effects?”
“No, not that—” Well, there was the negative mana affecting everyone around her but it was only because of one ritual years ago. Using more negative magic hadn’t exasperated it thankfully. “Not that I’m aware of, no.”
Julius touched his chin thoughtfully as she continued.
“But please don’t hesitate to ask me to do any spells or rituals for the sake of the kingdom,” she laughed wryly. “I am the only person who could do them after all.”
“Ah, no, no. If it affects you this badly, I would never even think of asking you,” he assured her with a shining smile.
Aika fought off a grin. That...was really kind of him. Her Uncle was quick to jump on the offer and she was glad to be of use to help this kingdom but the concern…Her heart beat quickly at the thought.
No!
She mentally shook her head. He should be more concerned about the kingdom not her! What if she could help where no one could?
 “Please don’t think of me, think of the kingdom. If I could help, then I would. Whether you accept my help or not is an entirely different matter.”
Due to being particularly sensitive to magic at the moment because of the newly acquired mana, she felt a stab of Julius’ magic hit her.
“And besides, I like using it,” she whispered, the real truth unexpectedly slipping out.
What. Did he just— 
She quickly masked her shock and met his gaze. He surprisingly didn’t seem disgusted or judgemental at her confession. He just seemed lost in thought as he stared back at her.
“I see,” he simply uttered, his tone giving away nothing.
Usually, any other person’s first instinct would be to get mad at forcing the truth out of them, but Aika, who was quite adept at using backhanded tactics, was very impressed and curious. How on Earth could he use such magic? It seemed like a part of his natural attribute. He truly had a limitless magic potential. He could use Time Magic but that didn’t stop him from using some form of spatial and transformation magic, but also a hidden magic spell perhaps that could induce the truth out of somebody. And here she was, thinking he was a straight-laced, goody two-shoes Wizard King.
But, no real King is truly virtuous.
She cleared her throat before a giddy smile could slip through. It would have been exhausting to work with someone with a strict moral compass. Though, she shouldn’t be surprised after seeing him on the battlefield. He was terrifying.
“Well, I suppose you did help us gain a massive advantage with your help on the battlefield the other day. If you hadn’t wiped out the Diamond army, taking on both Spade and Diamond would have been disastrous for our troops.”
Aika hummed in agreement and decided to say nothing. Being complimented by anyone other than her Uncle was strange. No one could recognize her efforts because the Amulet of Ignorance ensured it and she preferred it that way.
A question struck her when she realized where they were.
“Julius?”
He looked at her questioningly.
“Why are you here in the first place? Don’t you have a banquet to attend?”
He grinned widely as he lifted his palm off of the Swallowtail.
“The banquet is in about half an hour and I’ve come to make my annual trip to deposit some magic in the Swallowtail. You know, for emergencies such as yours,” he winked slyly. 
Aika nodded in understanding, rolling her eyes at his jibe. She had also left some of her magic in there for emergencies.
“Well, you should clean up before going to the banquet then,” she said, looking pointedly at the ridiculous lipstick dotting his face. She threw her leg over the broom, ready to leave.
“Wait!” He quickly stopped her, an arm reaching out. “Could I drop you off at your place? You might still be tired.”
“Yes,” she blurted out. She was going to be her own ruin. Why was she doing this to herself?
“Great!” He placed a hand on her shoulder and they immediately found themselves in Aika’s living room.
“May I use the bathroom to wash my face?” Julius asked innocently. Oh, he was doing this on purpose, wasn’t he?
“That lipstick won’t come off with water. Most lipsticks used by women in the Noble Realm are magicked to stick on whatever surface they are applied on and the kind they used was the type of lipstick used to ‘mark people,’” she explained as she walked away. “I’ll go get some wipes for you.” He also seemed determined to stick around and he wasn’t even hiding it. Aika sighed internally. She needed to keep him at an arm's length. Even she cannot resist temptation.
Lost in her thoughts, she walked back to where Julius was, carrying a few wet wipes specifically made to wipe off makeup. Before she could realize what she was doing, she placed a wipe on his cheek as she angled his face to the side with her other hand.
The moment her bare hand touched his chin, Aika began to panic, though none showed on her face. In her mind, she began swearing in all the languages she knew, putting even the most seasoned sailors to shame. She was so used to tending to people that she completely forgot her determination to avoid these kinds of situations at all costs so her crush could go away, but, nooo.
And once she did something, she always stuck through. There was no backing out now.
Aika began wiping his face without hesitation but that didn’t stop her from berating herself.
Oh my fucking god. You are a fool, a whole clown, Aika. You should just quit your life, change your name and join your ex-fiance’s circus as a clown. It would fit you very well. Start practicing your honking now, you numbnut.
Wait, did he react? Wait, I don’t want to know. Oh, shit. I definitely want to know. No, you don’t. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Don’tlookdon’tlookdon’tlook.
She looked. 
Julius was staring right into her very soul from underneath his lashes.
She quickly averted her eyes, a blush rising to her face as her heart seemed determined to break free from her ribcage. She regulated her breaths and willed them to be normal. Thankfully, she had a lot of practice.
But then, he ducked his head so she could have better access and innocuously pressed his cheek into her palm. To top it all off, he closed his eyes and sighed contentedly.
That’s it. Aika was dying. She was having a heart attack. She wanted to scream so badly. She could feel the room spin around her.
Why? Why did you lean in? Have you no shame? A woman wipes your face and you start making bedroom eyes at her? Oh my god ohmygodohmygod.
How she wished she had her amulet now. If she wore it for a while, everyone except a select few would forget she even existed.
Aika stared at his serene smile, his eyes still closed.
A frown crawled up her face. She started wiping faster, cradling his cheek with her hand while she wiped the few spots on his neck.
She refused to corrupt someone as sweet as him.
“What’s that face for?” Julius piped up, startling her. “Jealous?” he smirked.
Wow, you are completely shameless. Wait— Jealous?
“Oh, sure.” Aika rolled her eyes. “I’m jealous of the women who virtually attacked the Wizard King like a bunch of harpys, marking him with magic lipstick,” She leaned closer to his ear. “While I had his head between my legs.”
He turned away, blushing as he covered his mouth. Finally , he seemed flustered. He did not expect her to retort when she herself was panicking. Aika stepped away as she smirked, satisfied that there was no more lipstick nor that overconfident expression on his face.
“I’ll swing by your office tomorrow to drop some stuff off,” Aika called out as she walked away into the kitchen. Julius shook his head as he gathered himself and followed her. A blush still present on his face, he leaned against the doorframe as he watched Aika move around the kitchen. The very same kitchen where he was turned down.
“What stuff?”
He asked quietly as he buried the memories. Hopefully it wasn’t any kind of paperwork.
“Some stuff to help you as Wizard King and some other things I thought you might like.”
That peaked his interest.
“Oh? What kind of things?”
“Julius,” Aika turned to him, exasperated. “Don’t you have a banquet to get to?”
“You want to get rid of me already?” He asked cheekily, very reminiscent of that day.
“No, but I’m sure you would enjoy a good surprise as much as the next person and I really think you should go.” Her face softened. “Don’t you think it’s strange enough that you stuck around this long?” she asked quietly.
He fiddled with the edge of his sleeve.
“Maybe,” he looked up at her. “But it’s only so I could just be myself before I have to go deal with nobles,” he smiled wryly. “I find politics rather boring, you see. I‘m putting it off as much as possible.”
“Diplomacy is what gets things done in your position,” Aika imparted as she turned back around to arrange the dishes in the cabinet. Her aunt and uncle will move in tonight so she has to get everything in order. 
If Julius finds politics boring, then he may not be as effective. She quickly needed to rid him of that mindset. It would be hard to implement changes if he wasn’t persuasive or have any positive connections with the higher-ups.
“If you find it boring, I suggest you talk about your ideas and plans and observe who are open and who are not. You are quite impassioned about the things you like but I also suggest you keep the topics relevant,” she added lightly as she threw a smile over her shoulder. “Your ideas may also come off naive to the wrong people and could turn away many supporters but you have to stand your ground. Putting a neutral front may seem appealing but it’s only useful for maintaining the status quo,” she asserted as she looked Julius in the eye. “Not for a silent revolution.”
He gaped at her. Master Raymond made it sound as if her unsolicited advice was useless. He actually planned to stay neutral as she predicted but like she said, it wouldn’t get things done. How was she experienced in such things?
“I-I’ll try,” he finally got out. “Were you a ruler in your past life or something?” He asked jokingly. Aika laughed as she turned around and crossed her arms over her chest. She leaned back against the counter with a smirk as she asked,
“Julius, who do you think I am?”
He was slightly thrown off by the question.
“Uh, Aika Tolliver, Time Mage, Spymaster, and advisor to the 27th Wizard King?”
“Also the CEO of an international company,” she added.
Julius took a double take.
“What?!”
She palmed her face.
“So, Master Raymond didn’t tell you?”
“No?”
“God,” she groaned. “I’ll explain more later but I may not hold any political dominion but we are both C-Level executives and some of our tasks are quite similar even if our institutions are different. I am able to give you solid advice on such matters without being an actual ruler.” Aika fiddled with her pocket watch. “You should go.” She said as she guided him through the door and back into the living room. “It’s almost time for the banquet!”
He stumbled as he processed her words. Julius quickly laid a hand on her shoulder to stop her as he looked at her, dazed.
“Wait, so why do you insist on working for the Wizard King?”
Aika tamped down her irritation. There was no reason to get upset. He hasn’t fully transitioned into his duties and information he should be aware of about his staff.
She took a calming breath.
“Because, there are multiple prophecies that state that this continent would spell the end of the world. Everyone around the world know something is going to happen on this continent,” she said coolly. “No one outside are acquainted with the inner workings nor do they like this region. There are contingencies to contain the ‘end of the world’ but no efforts to actually stop it. Me being me, decided to volunteer to be the hero and you ,” she pointed a finger at Julius “are going to help whether you like it or not, understood?”
He blinked as a smile crawled up his face which quickly grew into a grin. That sounded quite exciting! Maybe his tenure as Wizard King may not be entirely boring with a mission like that!
“Y-Yes ma’am!” He let out a chuckle. “I hope you realize I’m only going to pester you with more questions when I see you next time.”
Maybe I do want you to come back and pester me, A voice in her head piped up intrusively.
“Yes, I’m aware,” she said rolling her eyes. “Now go!”
Julius saluted her with a mischievous grin and vanished.
Aika stood staring at the empty space where he was before pressing her head against the wall next to her with a deep sigh.
Why did he have to be at the Swallowtail right when I needed to? Why the fuck did I touch his face? And did he have to be obvious with his advances so much? What did he mean “just be himself?” She clenched her fist. The only way she could avoid overthinking was to throw herself into work.
She composed herself and held her head high. There was no time to dwell on such things. She examined her living room as she brought her to-do list to the front of her mind. She had a lot of things to clean, organize and pack.
Aika rolled up her sleeves and tied her hair back.
Time to get to work.
Notes: aiaiai that was a handful Julius figures out why Aika is avoiding him next chapter and you guys get one letter to figure out what he is LMAOOOOOO
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toomanyfandoms02 · 4 years
Text
Halloween // Matthew Gray Gubler x Reader
Another Story based on a gif/picture! (Hope this is kinda what you were thinking @aberrant-annie )
Summary - It's the first year that y/n and Matthew are a couple, and he insists that they have a couples costume for an upcoming party.
Word count - 2.5k
Gif courtesy of @nationgubler
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It was that time of year again. The time where Matthew got impossibly excited, wore tremendously weird costumes, and snuck up behind me an ungodly amount of times.
Halloween.
Now you may be thinking, 'Halloween is a fun and *normal* time of year for many families!' But you only think that because you haven't met my boyfriend Matthew.
Now let's give a little background on the weirdo that is my best friend.
Matthew Gray Gubler is an actor, author, filmmaker, illustrator, fashion model, and painter. But what they don't put on his google search profile is that, before all, he is a Halloween Enthusiast.
He and I have been best friends for over 8 years, and every single one of those years he has effortlessly dragged me into any kind of spooky shenanigan that he could. This was the first year of the 8 that we are a couple, so he decided, in a fit of glory as he put it, that we *needed* a couple's costume this year for the Criminal Minds cast Halloween party. I was 100% down for this idea, but boy, I really didn't know what I was getting myself into by agreeing to it so easily. So let's go back to where this whole ordeal began.
The day was October 15th, and I was sitting blindfolded in the passengers seat of Matthew's car.
"Where the hell are we going?" I giggled, flailing my arms around the car, blindly looking for the trail mix I left in his car the day before. He grabbed my wrist, leading it down to the cupholder and putting my hand on the bag. He knew me too well.
"It's a surprise, obviously, just know it has to do with Halloween." He grabbed my hand and placed a gentle kiss to the top of it.
"Doesn't everything have to do with Halloween with you?"
"Maybe." He laughed.
We were in the car for around 15 minutes, all the while I jammed out to a mix of songs I loved and goofy Halloween themed songs. Matthew had made a playlist of the two as a compromise.
I heard the car click into park and listened as Matthew left the car and walked to my side, opening the door and leading me out.
"When will I be able to see again? This whole blind thing is not for me." He laughed at my remark, looping his arm through mine so he could lead me to what I could only assume was my death. That's when I heard it, the all too familiar laugh of a clown.
Here we go.
Without the notice of my lovely boyfriend I whipped my hand up to my head, removing the black cloth that covered my eyes, I only heard a squeak of protest from him before I saw 'The Haunted Jail' before me.
"Of course." I rolled my eyes in a playful manner, unhooking myself from his arm. "So, why are we here."
"Well, I was thinking that maybe we could get some couple costume ideas from here. It's the jails doubles night so two workers tag team on a costume." He gestured wildly with his hands towards the sign that read *Doubles night! Couples get a 15% discount tonight*. I shook my head in amusement.
"Alright, let's go."
After walking through the 3 story building, we came out with a nice list of ideas for scary couples costumes. This consisted of :
•Beetlejuice
•Pupetmaster and puppet
•Purge
•Wedding gone wrong
•Twisted Alice and Mad Hatter
Then we just had to come to a decision, and soon.
We then sat in the car on our way home to dig out more decorations from the attic. Our house from the inside looked like someone had gotten murdered. There were giant floor and window stickers that resembled blood, fake knives everywhere, and caution tape. This all paired with the tape in the shape of a body on the ground near our fridge. But Matthew had so graciously pointed out that we needed to decorate the outside like we were a haunted house.
He was currently up in our creepy ass attic as I stood with crossed arms at the end of the rickety ladder that led up there. He popped his head out of the little square hole, wearing a jason mask. I narrowed my eyes and shook my head with the smallest smile.
"I'm gonna hand some boxes down to you." I heard him say behind the muffling mask.
The first box held large organized strings of orange LEDs and hooks to set them up on. The next box was filled with fake webs and the next was a huge box. I set it on the ground, prying it open to reveal giant spiders with tacky red eyes and long fangs.
"Are we gonna have these bad boys climbing the ivy outside?" He popped from the attic in a new, mask. A werewolf one I assumed.
"Yep!" He lightly set another box in my hands. "I hate the smell of these masks," He ripped the mask off, revealing his unruly hair and squinting eyes from the new amount of light. "why do I keep buying them?" It made my heart melt, messy hair Gubler was my favorite Gubler.
We dragged all of the boxes outside and decorated for what seemed like 6 hours, it was way harder work than what you would expect. We ended up with 2 giant spiders hung on the ivy, 1 crawling up the porch, and 2 more on the roof. The webs we had were strung everywhere, but the 'main web', as Matthew called it, was across the porch. We had LEDs lighting up most of the outside of our house, it made it look like a constant sunset, or constantly living in a horror movie. Whatever floats your boat. And lastly, we had bloody tomb stones scattered in the yard with fake hands reaching up at the sky through the ground.
Then it was October 16th. I had woken up groggily, feeling the bed beside me for Matthew, but only touching the soft white sheets. The time was 9:47 am and the sun was bleeding through the curtains. My legs hung over the bed as my limbs stretched, pulling down a shirt that was much to large for me *probably because it wasn't mine*. As soon as I stepped out of my bedroom I was met with a scream mask.
"**Morning!**" This made me scream.
"Damnit Matthew Gray! Christ, will the scaring ever end?" I say this but of course, it was really one of my favorite things about him.
"Not until Christmas." He replied with a cocky smile, kissing me softly. I grabbed the back of his neck, deepening the kiss and trying to make him take the hint. He pulled away swiftly. "I would *love* to continue doing this." He ran his hands down my arms and to my hips. "But I made you breakfast and eggs are better warm." He squeezed my hip and gently pushed me toward the kitchen.
Over breakfast we discussed what we were going to go as for the party. We came to the conclusion that doing purge killers would be the most fun. Now all we had to do was get the costumes.
So we left around 1 for Party City. The place had a surprisingly small amount of people, considering the time of year. However there was one girl in there that kept sneaking looks at Matthew. She was standing near some children's costumes. I quickly found out why when a kid came running up with an Alice and Wonderland costume. Shaking it profusely at her mom. The woman kneeled down to her size and gestured towards Matthew. I scrunched my face up.
*What was she telling her?*
Matthew had kept walking and I swiftly caught up with him in the mask aisle. As soon as I got there, the small girl I had just saw was tugging at his orange pumpkin T-Shirt.
"Hi! My mommy said she's a big fan of you on crimimal minds." I giggled a bit. She waved him down to her level, and he gladly came down to listen. "I think she might have a crush on you." I could hear her whisper. He looked back at me expectantly, I just smiled with a shrug. I wasn't much of the jealous type, Matthew was *extremely* loyal, I trusted him with my life. I shooed him towards the woman. He stood and waved at her, gesturing her over and backing up to be by me. I was trying to be inconspicuous and look at the masks. But clearly my lovely boyfriend had a different idea.
"Hi! What's your name?" He asked with a famous million dollar grin.
"A-ashley." She stood for a second, silently staring at him. "I'm sorry, I obviously didn't expect to be seeing you. I'm a just huge fan of yours. And it doesn't help that you are way cuter in person." She smiled shyly, hugging her daughter to her side. Matthew smiled politely but quickly snaked his arm around my hip. I turned to her with the kindest smile I could. I could see realization dropping from her eyes to the red tips of her ears.
"Well you obviously know I'm Matthew. This is my girlfriend, y/n." I leaned into him slightly. Me and Matthew hadn't exactly gone *public*. So it was an honest mistake that she wouldn't know we were together. But to be fair, we weren't hiding it either. "Would you like a picture by the way?" That seemed to distract her enough to knock her out of her clearly petrified trance.
"Yes! A million times yes!"
"I'll take it for you." I grabbed the phone she held out with a slightly tense smile. We took a few pictures and said our goodbyes as she checked out an left. We got back to looking at masks.
"Did you see her face when I grabbed your hips? I kinda live for that look." I smacked his arm playfully.
"The poor girl, she just flirted with you in front if your *girlfriend*. You petrified her!"
"Well I think you just made her a little jealous." He came behind me, wrapping his arms around my stomach and kissing my shoulders.
"Ok Gubler," I slipped from his grip. "we are in public." He groaned a little and followed me down the aisle. I grabbed the cool LED masks with the X's for eyes and big smiles, the typical Purge ones. I got me a purple one and him a red one. Next stop was fake weapons.
I gazed at all of the weapons on the wall. Machetes, guns, bats, nunchucks, knives, all of it. I then looked over to see my boyfriend squinting and tapping his chin in fake contemplation.
"Oh just grab the knife, I know that's what you wanna get." He whipped it off the wall and gave me a serious look, pointing the sharp styrofoam at me. He tapped it to my nose and couldn't contain his laugh as I looked him in the eyes with the biggest smile I could muster.
"You really know how to break me out of character."
So he did end up buying the styrofoam knife, and I ended up buying a plastic machete. As we left the store, the masks and weapons in hand he nudged me.
"So have you thought of what we are gonna wear?"
"Oh yeah. I already have the outfit, you're gonna love it, mine at least. We still have some spare fake blood at home right?" He narrowed his eyes at me, nodding suspiciously. "Great, then I just have to decorate the shirts." Which is exactly what I did when we got home.
I laid our two white button up's on our asphalt driveway, splattering them with blood. Matthew watched me. Sitting a lawn chair as I covered my hands in the blood and put a few handprints on random parts.
"Can I see the whole outfit you have planned now?" He whined.
"Nope, you have to wait. It's not that far away."
But he had asked me to show him everyday up until today, October 31st, party day. Now here we are, on our way back from a McDonalds run that took a *bit* longer than anticipated and we had a very slight chance of being late. We stumbled into the house and ran to the room.
"Why are we rushing anyway?" I took a pause, catching my breath. "We don't have to be exactly on time anyway." He agreed and we slowed down a bit to get our things together.
"I didn't want to have to rush out after seeing you in costume anyway." He said, slyly reaching into the closet and grabbing our button up's. I grabbed the rest of my things from a plastic bag under my side of the bed. I went to the bathroom and changed. My outfit consisted of a black miniskirt, a black cropped tube top, and black knee high socks. Paired with black heeled low-top booties. Then slung over it all was ny open button up. I sheathed my machete behind me and walked out of the bathroom to see Matthew in his bloody shirt and old dress pants and shoes. His giant knife was sheathed in a holster on his side. He ogled at me for a moment, shifting on his feet.
"Holy- wow." He breathed out. I waltzed up to him, unbuttoning a few more buttons and messing his hair to fit the part a bit more. I handed him his mask, with my eyebrows raised. He set it on the bed behind him, cupping my face and bringing me in for a kiss. I ran my hands down his half bare chest and I could feel him smile into the kiss, so I did too, and boy was he a sucker for that. He deepened the kiss and pull me towards him as much as he could, leading his hands lower and lower. Eventually he grabbed my butt a little and I let a giggle slip into the kiss. I parted from him, staring into those honey brown eyes. I felt like a teenager. He had not taken his eyes off me since I left the bathroom.
"Take a picture, it'll last longer."
"Alright." He slid he phone from his pocket, snapping a picture of me. What was I gonna do with this man? I grabbed our masks and we headed out.
We were only about 20 minutes late to the party. We turned our LEDs on and entered AJs house, as her door was wide open.
"You guys look *amazing*!" Kirsten gushed. "Especially you y/n. *Damn* do you rock those socks."
"I know right?" He lifted his mask, placing a kiss on my cheek.
The whole night was filled with chugging fun Halloween themed drinks, compliments on our costumes, slipping secret kisses, and quite the photo shoot.
*And man was I in for it when I got home.*
-----------------------
@spenciereiddd said they wanted tagged in some writing, so here ya go my dude.
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jackandthesoulmates · 3 years
Text
The Fox, The Serpent and The Vulture
Author: jackandthesoulmates / tintentrinkerin
Title: The Fox, The Serpent and The Vulture
Created for @winklinebingo, @spnkinkbingo, @deanandsambingo, @samwinchesterbingo
Squares filled: Bisexual (winklinebingo / deanandsambingo), gender swap (samwinchesterbingo), cunnilingus (spnkinkbingo)
Pairing: Winkline & Wincest
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: smut, bdsm themes
Additional tags: fem!jack, threesome, squirting, top!sam, dirty talk
Word count: 4,975
It was a joke, really.
Neither Sam nor Dean meant anything by it when, in a whiskey driven conversation, they told Jack about the "girl thing".
"What’s the girl thing?", Jack asked, totally unimpressed by whiskey.
Alcohol never affected him really. Sam and Dean laughed about it, nudged each other, like they sometimes did. Looking at each other sneakily. It made Jack jealous and happy at the same time. Dean leaned forward and almost fell off the couch but Sam had his back.
"Easy."
"I’m easy."
"Yeah, I know."
Dean snorted and brushed Sam’s hand away.
"So, listen, Jackyboy. Sam and I once opened one of the locked rooms here in the bunker. The whole room was full with black magic stuff. We found vials with cum-"
Sam interrupted, "How about you leave the gritty details and tell him about the girl thing."
"Yeah, right. The girl thing."Dean chuckled.
He had a slight squint when he was drunk and Jack loved this detail about him a lot.
"We’ve found something that looked like a normal wooden box. Well, I thought it’s just a damn wooden box, what could happen? It had no symbols, no runes, nothing that would tell you to keep your frickin’ hands off the thing, you know? And it felt light, nothing clattering inside. So I opened it. And whoosh! Next thing I know is Sam and I had boobs."
Jack frowned.
"Just boobs?"
Sam cleared his throat and intervened before Dean could say any more.
"No, not only boobs. We were kind of… sex swapped. We were girls."
It looked like Sam wouldn’t like the topic of having boobs and Jack didn’t ask any further. He knew Dean would spill more information sooner or later like he always did when he had half a bottle of Jim or Jack or whoever.
"Yeah and it was awesome, kid. Having boobs is the bomb, you can just, you know? Touch yourself all day? I spent a lot of time playing with my nipples."
"He did."
"Sam, did you play with your nipples, too?"
A fine, sticky spray of whiskey blew across the room when Sam spat his drink in surprise. Dean had to help him, pat his back and make him drink some water before Sam could really answer to that.
"He didn’t", Dean laughed, still rubbing Sam’s back, "I played with his nipples. And his p-"
"Dean! Jack, you go to bed, I think we shouldn’t have any more whiskey."
Sam was still coughing up and Jack worried he might really swallowed too much alcohol. Jack once choked on soda, it was icky.
Later when Sam brought Jack to his room, Jack waited five minutes before sneaking out again. As usual, Dean’s door stood open just enough to peek through. Jack sometimes did that. He didn’t mean to peep on the brothers, it just happened one day and now here he was. Again.
"Damn, I would kill to eat some pussy", Dean groaned, rolling in the sheets.
He was naked completely and obviously horny, his cock was hard and Jack’s mouth watered at the sight. Now he could see Sam come out of the ensuite bathroom, naked as well. Sam’s cock was bigger than Dean’s, and when Jack compared it to his own, he also outclassed the Nephil. Jack loved looking at Sam and Dean like this, he loved seeing them fuck.
He could hear Sam sigh, see him rub his full, deliciously hard length two times before crawling on Dean’s bed.
"Yeah, sometimes some pussy would be nice."
Sam gripped Dean’s hair and bent his head back. Jack could hear Dean groan and saw his toes curl when Sam’s hand wrapped around Dean’s cock and jerked him in a hard and fast pace.
"Fuck, Sammy…"
"I would love to have some pussy, too, brother. Your pretty hole is so tight and hot, but it’s not wet itself, lubricating is so time consuming."
Sam spat in his hand and then continued jerking Dean, who was whimpering now, burying his face on Sam’s broad, heaving chest.
"Sammy, I’d love to see you fuck a girl…"
"I know, I know, you dirty little cuck… you nasty pervert. It’s never enough for you…"
The way Sam talked to Dean made even Jack painfully hard.
And that’s when Jack tiptoed back to his room. First he got off on the sight of such a subby Dean and a dominant, calm, and adamantine Sam. When Jack would focus on it, he could even hear Dean’s whimpers and moans, and for God’s sake he could hear these dirty things Sam whispered in Dean’s ear, about what a filthy whore he was. Jack could hear the grunting, oh fuckfuckfuck, the grunting made him cum twice. Usually, when the brothers were done having sex, Jack would always retreat and let them have their cuddling and whisper the sweeter nothings in privacy.
In this very heated and whiskey drenched night Jack decided to give it a go.
It was easy, way too easy, when Jack thought about it thoroughly. Sometimes Sam was maybe right, using his powers for shenanigans like this was a bit risky, stupid, useless?
They said, they missed a girl in bed.
The only logical conclusion to Jack was, if he wanted to please the brothers (and he wanted to!), to become a girl. Finally make them notice Jack as a sexual being.
God dammit, all Jack wanted was to finally get fucked.
Dean draws his gun first when he sees the girl sitting in the library. She’s buried in a book, glossy honey blonde hair falling down like a curtain, hiding her face.
"Who are you? Show yourself!", Dean commands.
Weapon on the ready, Dean steps down the stairs and approaches her, but when she looks up he feels like he is in some weird dream. He lowers the gun and opens his mouth. It takes a breath or two before he processes what he sees.
"Jack?"
Jack, or the female version of Jack, smiles at him and gets up. She’s slender, but has well rounded, big breasts and wide hips. Dean gulps. Jack is a pretty boy, but he is a hell of a stunning woman. If it’s really him.
"Yes, it’s me."
His voice is high and clear as a bell, hair is long and thick, reaching down to his hip. Jack turns around two times and shows off his body to Dean.
"Do you like it, Dean?", he asks.
Dean raises his eyebrows and he feels a tingle. That’s not possible. He’s not hot for Jack. No no.
"You look pretty, but-" Dean must lower the gun. "Why are you- I mean? How? Did you touch a cursed object?"
Jack laughs. Oh dear, that sounds so sweet.
"No, I wanted to try it. Be a girl. You made me curious, to be honest. With the boobs thing."
"Yeah, right. The boob thing."
Dean roughly remembers this night a few days ago when he definitely dropped too much information. Again. It always happens when he gets drunk, comfortable and maybe a bit horny. What really puts Dean off here is that female Jack wears a mini skirt and a crop top. Overall he reveals a lot of his body. Sam would definitely act all motherly now and give Jack something to put on. Just so Sam could hide he’d be turned on by that sight as well. It was like Jack could read minds. That Sam and Dean just didn’t get the girl thing out of their heads. How could he know?
Dean has even downloaded a dating app to maybe look for a girl interested in having a threesome with him and Sam.
"I’m glad you like it. Pink is my color, I think. And white. Oh, and gold. Doesn’t it suit me? What do you think?"
"Uh", Dean says. Very clever, Winchester.
This is when Sam finally comes to the rescue.
"What’s going on here? Dean what- What is that?"
"That is Jack", Dean says.
"I see that", Sam replies, also a little confused, "but why are you female all of a sudden?"
They settle the argument about why and how Jack became a girl, just like that. He told them he just wished for it to happen and after an hour of sleep he woke up like this.
Both Winchesters are intrigued. Dean can’t even hide how attracted he is to Jack’s appearance, Sam is more distant, but Jack is able to feel both of their heartbeats if he wants to. And their bodies are ooze sex hormones in doses that would even make humans smell and jump at it.
They smell sweet and tangy. Jack knows it, he smells it a lot around the bunker. He would describe it like the smell of black berries and juniper if someone asked him to put it in over-embellished words.
It’s deeply satisfying to see them squirm and reek of lust. Jack needs to be careful though. He knows it’s a very fine line he’s tumbling along.
It’s the same evening and the mood shifts.
Whiskey time again for Dean. He’s chugging lots and Sam is doing a lot of booze, too. Jack is pretty sure it’s their way of coping, soften the edges of the new situation but all they do is go deep down the rabbithole. The inhibition threshold sinks with every sip of whiskey.
Jack didn’t change his clothes, he’s still wearing the white crop top and the pink tartan miniskirt, his thighs decorated with stockings. He likes the golden jewellery, it’s shiny and warm in the dim light of the lamps in the library. But what he did… he put off the bra and the thong he was wearing this afternoon.
So far, he’s modest, or appears so, legs crossed and clinging on his whiskey tumbler. He’s a trap and ready for one of the Winchesters to finally take the bait. He’s here, he’s willing and both of them lick their lips by just looking at him. Sam is so disciplined, avoids Jack’s gaze but Jack knows he’s looking between Jack’s thighs. He imagines how warm and wet Jack would be.
It’s Dean, who breaks the seal then, like Jack thought. Maybe he would’ve done it himself, if Dean didn’t go forward.
"I wonder what your boobs feel like."
Sam’s breathing stops. Jack rejoices.
"You want to touch them?", he offers, bending forward, now revealing his cleavage to the brothers and it’s obvious he doesn’t wear a bra.
There’s a moment of insecurity, Dean and Sam exchange a very telling look.
"Yeah wanna", Dean slurs.
Jack looks over to Sam.
"You wanna touch them, too?", he asks hopefully.
Sam just looks at him with dark eyes, his jaw clenched, lips a thin line.
"I guess that’s a no?", Jack now teases.
He gets up and climbs in Dean’s lap, grabs his head and presses Dean’s face in his cleavage. There’s half hearted fightback before Dean leans in and utters muffled curses on Jack’s skin. Jack is sensitive, even more than as with his male body, and he can feel Dean’s excitement grow in his pants. With a satisfied sigh Jack looks over to Sam.
Invites him. Lures him.
Come on, Sam. I know you want it. You want me.
Dean’s hands wander over Jack’s skin, makes him sigh and tingle between his legs. One hand is worming under the seam of Jack’s miniskirt, slides down the curve of his mound and then stops. Dean moans and pulls back. His green eyes are beaming with arousal. Jack grins.
"Shit, you’re not wearing panties."
"No, I’m not. You like it?"
"You bet I do!"
Dean’s hand is warm and rough, feels strong. Jack unzips the miniskirt at the back and loosens the seam to make it easier for Dean to slide his hand deeper. Both gasp at the sensation when Dean rubs Jack’s clit, just slightly. Jack’s hips jerk up. It feels great. Raw. Intense. Jack’s hand cups Dean’s, encourages him to continue.
"Dean", Jack whispers against Dean’s cheek. "It feels so good."
Sam gets up. It’s a sudden movement and Dean and Jack flinch simultaneously. Jack looks up in Sam’s face and he damn, he looks angry. Barely containing something primal, rageous.
"Sammy, you good?", Dean slurs, looking up at his brother.
He’s swaying gently, like in a subtle breeze. Without another word Sam drags Jack away from Dean and throws Jack over his shoulder. Jack is so surprised, he can’t even fight back or resist.
"You’re coming with us, Jack", Sam says, his voice sharp and low.
Oh God, yes. That’s the tone Jack wants to hear.
"Where are you taking me?", he asks, head dangling down, nose brushing Sam’s back.
Sam’s hands hold Jack tight, one on his thigh, dangerously close to Jack’s buttcheeks, the other around Jack’s now tiny shoulders.
"To bed", is all Sam says.
Jack is let down. Not in a soft or gentle way, it’s more another throw on the bed. He feels like he’s become prey and Sam is the predator.
The mattress is hard, harder than the one in Jack’s bed. He doesn’t mind at all though. Lying on his back Jack gets up on his elbows and looks over to the brothers. Sam towers over Jack like a dark broad mountain. Jack loves the sight of Sam, he always has. Since the day Jack was born. Sam was the first person he did ever see. His picture would always be the first thing he’d think about when he woke, when he fell asleep and all the daydreaming in between. He gasps softly while Sam takes off the skirt that’s already hanging on his hips crookedly. Sam looks up. Oh this grin. It gives Jack violent shivers.
"Dean? What do you think? Who should eat this pussy out first? You? Me? Hm?", Sam purrs while he gets up to peel himself out of his shirt and plaid. Dean does the same. His ears are beaming red and Jack feels for Dean’s heart, beating like a hummingbird. He’s nervous. That’s cute and unusual, Dean didn’t lose his cool that easily. Only Sam would always appear even calmer. Even now.
"I want Dean first", Jack whispers.
Sam raises an eyebrow. Looks at Dean. Dean smirks and says:
"I don't mind."
Jack reaches for Dean while Sam lays down beside them. Dean's weight feel calming for Jack, who gets shivers and an ohsobeating heart himself. When their lips touch and Dean's tongue slides in Jack's mouth both start moaning. Jack's hips thrust up in a sudden jolt of heat. He knows it's arousal, he kept jerking in his hand when he masturbated to the thought of Sam and Dean fucking. But this feeling is so much more intense. It's a heat that feels like his belly is swelling first, then clenching together. Dean tastes of whiskey and honey, it's a pleasant taste mixed with his sweet heavy scent of desire. Jack pulls Dean closer and moans softly in his open mouth. His legs open freely for what's to come.
"Damn, Jack… you make me feel all dizzy…", Dean groans.
Jack chuckles quietly and combs his hair.
"Please go down on me", he says. "Show me how you treat a girl."
There's a growl. It's Sam's. Jack is wildly aware that he's watching them, rubbing his cock through his pants. And Dean does what Jack pleads him to, he slides down Jack's now soft body, covers it in kisses. It makes Jack thrust up again and sigh in pleasure. This is his first time, it doesn't scare him at all. He's aroused, he's hot, enjoyable shivers all over. Dean's fingers feel over Jack's thighs, rub gently. He takes his time to explore Jack a little. Kiss his belly button, his hips and over Jack's hairless mound.
"You even shaved for us, look at that", Dean purrs.
Sam's hands pull up the crop top and reveal Jack's full and round breasts. His nipples are hard already and when Sam bends over to suck them Jack jerks up again.
"It's so good", he moans, breathless. "Don't stop. Claim me."
It makes Sam growl again, show his teeth and bite Jack's sensitive nipples. Dean's face disappears between Jack's legs. Jack has of course basic knowledge of the male and female body, he knows what Dean is about to do. He read that some women like, some don't.
Dean's warm and pliant tongue slides between Jack's labia, exploring slowly but it's enough for Jack to whimper and cover his mouth with a hand. He's so loud!
"No, no. Don't."
Sam forces Jack's hand away.
"You sound so sweet, Jack. Your girl voice is as wonderful as your usual one."
Oh how is Sam so gentle and so cruel at the same time?
Jack can't answer, he's too distracted by Dean's warm tongue licking up and down his labia and then meeting the clit. Jack feels like he's about to die. Explode. Combust. He fists the sheets and his legs kick helplessly.
It's wonderful, agonizing. Jack wants to get away from Dean's tongue that licks along his pussy and on the other hand he wants grip Dean tighter, force his tongue inside and make him fuck Jack. Slowly, Dean's lips cup Jack's clit. He sucks on it. Just slightly. There's not much suction needed to make Jack go crazy.
"Fuck… oh…"
Dean's fingers brush along Jack's trembling thighs and then, Jack feels one finger sliding inside. Dean groans against Jack's clit and pulls back for a moment.
"Fuck, you're so wet."
Dean slides finger in and out, slowly, enjoyable and arches it.
"Is she now? Let me feel it."
Sam's hand lingers down and pushes Dean's hand away. Sam's finger is bigger. Longer. But Dean's is deliciously thick. Stretching him. Sam feels for Jack's vagina and rubs his insides softly.
"You're right. Jackgirl here is soaking wet. Damn, I bet you taste like heaven. Come, have a lick."
Jack licks his own juice off Sam's finger, sucks it, while Dean sucks on the swollen and sensitive clit. He adds another finger. It hurts a bit, but Jack is too excited to give a damn about it. Dean's finger and his tongue make him lose control over his voice.
"More", Jack whines, "gimme more, Dean, I wanna cum… I wanna cum so bad…"
Both brothers utter their pleasure noises, soft moans from Dean and a guttural deep sound coming com Sam. Dean’s fingers stretch Jack apart and after a few thrusts that feel like he’s still holding back, he starts fucking Jack with his fingers. It’s a hard rhythm and the arched fingers rub a sweet spot inside Jack. The pressure builds and builds and he’s thrusting against Dean’s fingers, wants to feel them deeper, harder, more. His tongue circles around Jack’s clit, and that’s what drives Jack crazy the most. It feels like an open flame held against sensitive skin. His fingers tangle in Dean’s hair, pulling it. Pulling them closer together. Dean’s grinding the mattress now, moans dripping over his lips while sucking and licking Jack into new heights.
"I’m gonna cum", Jack cries, "oh God I’m gonna…"
Dean’s movements are almost frantic now and his moans turn into hoarse and deep growls. Jack’s eyes roll back, but Sam forces him to look him in the eyes.
"Look at me, baby", Sam whispers, "Let me see how you cum…"
Jack moans loudly, too turned on to care. The tension in his body reaches the maximum and then, with a sudden and heavenly feeling of release Jack cums. He looks in Sam’s dark eyes while his body arches and his legs kick, his hips thrust against Dean’s face.
It’s a feeling of being blown away completely, the convulsions of his body shake him violently and then, after the first big boom Jack falls back in the sheets, fingers still entangled with Dean’s hair.
The mattress feels wet around his buttcheeks and when Dean looks up, he smirks and says, obviously very pleased, "Who thought Jackgirl would be a squirter."
"He is?", Sam asks and looks down at Dean.
He notices Dean’s wet face and when Dean pulls out his fingers - Jack winces and feels empty - he shows that his hand and arm are wet. Jack’s juices are running down Dean’s wrist and chin and drip on the mattress.
"Not much, but… yeah. We can work on that."
Jack feels embarrassed and covers his face with one hand.
"Is that good or bad? Oh God I ruined the sheets."
Sam chuckles and kisses Jack’s forehead.
"It’s nothing bad, not at all. It turns us on, actually."
"A lot", Dean adds.
Jack sighs in relief.
"Oh, good. I was worried for a moment."
Dean gets up and lies down beside Jack, he’s in the middle of the Winchester’s now, Sam nibbling on his neck and Dean’s hand gropes Jack’s tits, which doesn’t feel bad at all. It feels great. He gets to kiss each of them, feel their tongues and hungry mouths. Their aching for more and Jack is aching as well. There’s so much he wants to try while the spell lasts.
"Fuck me", he mumbles at Sam’s lips, feeling for Dean’s hand. "Both of you."
They need to contain themselves but Jack can sense their heartbeats, jumping wildly and oh god, that sweet heavy smell they ooze from every pore. He turns to Sam, one hand is still wrapped around Dean.
"You first", he whispers, "you get to have your cock in my pussy first.."
"As you wish, sweetheart", Sam coos, pressing a kiss on Jack’s lips.
It’s such a tender gesture, Jack wonders how Sam manages to stay that calm when Jack and Dean are the ones being over excited. Sam gets up and pulls his pants plus underwear down and damn, he’s big. Jack has only seen him from afar until today but now he sees how thick he is. Oh, holy son of God, will he be able to take it? Dean kisses Jack’s shoulder, but Jack feels how he peels himself out of the rest of his clothes, too.
When Sam mounts Jack, it feels like the room gets suddenly darker, Sam is just huge in every sense of the word. It’s thrilling and Jack feels his hips grind against Sam’s. They share a breathless kiss before Sam pulls away and spreads Jack’s legs.
"Damn, you’re so wet, I bet that’s not gonna hurt at all. But if it does, tell me."
Jack nods. He doesn’t mind a bit of pain if that means to finally feel Sam all the way inside.
Sam looks at Dean.
"And you, babe. Look closely how I stretch her for you. Are you jealous already?"
They exchange a glance and a hint of a smile. It’s their game, Jack knows. And he loves to be part of it and give both something they desire. It’s more than just about the sex, Jack knows.
Dean then looks down on himself, slightly stroking. He’s even thicker than Sam; the sight makes Jack shiver in anticipation.
"Yes, a bit, Sammy…"
"I wish you had such a tight wet pussy, it’s so much better…"
Dean’s eyes turn wet, but he loves it, Jack can see it all over, Dean is beaming.
Sam wraps his cock, holds it steady. Jack watches him closely, how he comes closer and then Sam’s tip rubs over Jack’s clit and he moans. It feels good, the friction itself is already making him ache for an orgasm again.
Sam’s cock slides in, inch after inch. The stretch hurts, but Jack is indeed so wet, so slippery, Sam goes all the way in. He groans and Jack’s fingernails scratch his arm.
"Oh fuck,... Sam…!"
Dean moans and almost squishes Jack’s long thin fingers with the pressure. Jack wraps his legs around Sam’s hips and even lets him glide in a tiny bit deeper.
"Hurts?"
"Yes, but not very much. Keep going…"
Jack relaxes, but his legs press Sam close, there’s no way he can retreat much now.
"Come on, touch her clit, babe", Sam whispers to Dean.
And he does as wished, Jack loves it and encourages Dean "Yes, touch me, please, I wanna cum again… feel my swollen clit, rub it."
It drives Jack crazy, how both of them now stimulate his body, rub and circle his clit and Sam’s delicious big cock is pounding inside him.
"Sam.. Sam, I wanna… I wanna ride you", Jack moans, feeling the climax coming, but it’s not enough just yet. He needs more.
"Hmmm, yes, sure, baby… Can do that…"
Sam pulls out and lies down, Jack straddles him and uses his hand to let Sam penetrate him the right angle. He puts his hands beside Sam’s hips and starts moving, starts showing off his boobs and Sam touches them while thrusting up. Fuck, Sam is a sight! It makes Jack even wetter and Dean kneels him now, reaching forward and rubbing Jack’s clit through two of his fingers.. Jack cries and leans against Dean’s chest. He’s covered in sweat already. Dean’s other hand fists Jack’s hair. It’s all over the best thing Jack could ever think of, being in the middle of the men he wants so bad.
"You’re so big, Sam, so fucking big… I can’t…", Jack cries and gasps for air, "I’m gonna cum already…"
"That’s it, baby, yes that’s it, cum on my cock… Make me wet, babygirl."
Jack shudders, the nickname makes him feel girly and small, but also divine. Sam loves it. Dean loves it. Jack loves it! The feeling of pressure and tension grows and grows, Jack’s movements stagger, but he needs more and more. Harder. Dean’s fingers are drenched in Jack’s wetness and his clit feels like it’s bursting. And then Jack cums on top of Sam. Dean holds him up that he won’t fall over, presses his fingers in Jack’s sensitive, now over stimulated skin. Sam’s fingertips dig deep in Jack’s hips as he thrusts up. He looks like he’s about to break into violence, Jack knows this facial expression. When Sam is hunting a thing down and he owns it, before breaking its neck. Jack shudders and mumbles sweet and encouraging nothings.
"Yes, Sam, please fill me up, I want your cum inside me... Give it to me!"
Sam growls and then slams his cock inside Jack, it makes him tumble and needs to grip Dean's hands to hold him steady, then Sam cums. His sounds are animalistic and raw, Jack loves every second of it. From behind, Dean’s raging erection presses against Jack’s ass and he knows it’s time also for him. Jack crawls off Sam, who is breathing heavy, hissing when he slides out of Jack’s dripping wet and stretched vagina. But he rolls to the side and lets Jack have the space he needs. He’s on all fours now, wiggling his butt against Dean.
"I know you want it, come here and fuck me… use your brothers’ cum as lube, huh?"
It’s a surprise - Dean pushes Jack’s back down, makes him to arch it and then even forces his face in the pillows. Jack moans, overwhelmed, but definitely turned on. Dean is way rougher than he appears, his cock slams into Jack’s dripping vagina like a battering ram, makes Jack cry and plead. Not to make him stop. Jack wants more. Needs more. God, he wants it to hurt, he wants to feel Sam and Dean until tomorrow.
"Yes, like that… Dean! Yesyesyes… FUCKYES!", Jack cries out, muffled through the fabric of the pillow.
"Yeah, fuck her thoroughly", Sam coos.
Kissing sounds.
"Ruin her for everyone else but us…"
Dean grunts and with a few hard thrusts he spills inside Jack, his fingernails must leave marks on his hips and ass, like Sam’s did already. He collapses onto Jack’s back and Jack relaxes, breathing heavy but he’s fine.
"Sammy", Dean whimpers, "Oh no, ah,... yes!"
"What are you guys doing?", Jack asks, there’s too much weight on him right now to turn around.
"Ah, just fingered him a bit through his orgasm."
Sam sounds utterly pleased with what he did and obviously it’s the right thing, because Dean is still shaking, his softening cock slowly slips out of Jack’s pussy.
"Damn, you guys are kinky…"
Dean laughs in a low croaky voice.
"You have no idea, sweetheart. Not yet."
When Dean finally gets off Jack and rolls beside him, Sam behind Dean, spooning him, Jack breathes in and out, eyes closed. His long glossy hair is a mess and when he opens his eyes for a moment, he looks at Dean with a satisfaction that’s beyond anything Jack ever hoped for.
"It’s pretty awesome, being a girl. I mean, being a girl in this household."
Dean brushes some strands of blonde hair out of Jack’s face and grins.
"Yeah, that was pretty amazing…", he admits. Sam kisses his shoulder and nods.
"It was. Thank you."
Jack blushes.
"No need to thank me, I wanted it as bad as you."
The brothers look at him, at first Jack thinks, they’re smug, but actually they just look very satisfied. Lush.
"How long will you stay like this?", Sam asks.
"I can uphold a shapeshift up to the next new moon", Jack adds. "It’s nothing that causes me a lot of work, it’s a simple spell."
"Simple, yet effective."
Jack laughs.
"Effective indeed."
After a few moments of silence, Jack feels wetness all over his body and when he gets on his arms to stand up, he feels it running down his legs.
"I’m oozing", he says, looking at Sam and Dean.
This time the grin is damn smug.
"Just the way we like it."
Another breathing silence.
"So, when’s the next new moon?"
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yukiobeyme · 4 years
Note
If you’re taking requests still, may I request how the brothers would react if the MC beat the crap out of a demon who insulted the brother in front of them?
A/N: This only the first four brothers, it got super long and I don’t want to keep you waiting. Each brother so far has about 500 words drabble so far oops. I hope I can get the rest up Saturday but I’m hoping to a valentine theme one tomorrow. But onto the request! 
Brothers Reacting to You beating the Crap out of Demon who insulted the brother in front of them
Lucifer: You tended to wait for Lucifer after Student Council meetings and help him pack up things. As y’all walked back to the house together. You heard a snicker behind you and then a sideways comment about how Lucifer is Diavolo's little whore. You saw the corner of Lucifer’s lip pull-down and without thinking you turned and had the offender by the collar and socked them right in the jaw then another hit to their nose. The Demon managed to get a punch on you as well before Lucifer and the Demon’s friend pulled y’all apart. You took the chance to look at your handy work and saw the Demon’s nose was bleeding and one of you hits busted their lip as well.
 Lucifer kept a tight grip on you until you were back at the house, Lucifer pulled you ahead of him and then jerked you, so you were looking at him. “What were you thinking?” Lucifer said raising his voice at you and it echoed through the house, so it wasn’t a surprise when the other brothers started to appear. You were quiet, you honestly weren’t thinking when you first reacted to what the Demon said. “Well?” Lucifer raised his voice a little louder, while his brothers looked on. “I ugh... guess I wasn’t?” you finally answered looking away from Lucifer. “You guess you weren’t; you guess. Let me tell you I know for a fact you weren’t” 
Silence fell over the room, “What exactly happened?” Satan was the one that broke the silence, both you and Lucifer turned and faced him. All the brothers had I surprised look on their faces. “MC hear decided to pick a fight with a Demon over a stupid comment,” Lucifer sneered. The brothers look semi-impressed with you before meeting a scolding Lucifer and they dropped their heads. 
After a moment Lucifer asked you to follow him. He led you to his room, “Sit” he said as you pointed at his bed. He then disappeared into his bathroom coming back with a first aid kit. Lucifer was gently on your bruised and scraped cheek.
 “I’m sorry, Lucifer,” you said to break the silence. “I just couldn’t help myself; I saw your reaction and I know that your relationship with Diavolo is something you are very protective of. I wasn’t going to just go to ignore it.” You finally explained yourself. Lucifer sighed as he continued to care for your injury, “I won’t lie it was pretty impressive, but I would prefer if you would refrain from throwing punches on my behalf in the future.” He gave you a soft smile, “there done” Lucifer said as he packed the first aid kid. You placed your hand on Lucifer’s arm, “Thank you Lucifer,” Lucifer gave you another nod and a quick kiss on the top of your head. “Just don’t do it again, not for my sake,” he looked you in the eyes with such sincerity.“Even if you would do it for me?” You questioned him, knowing the answer.
“Even if I would do it for you,” Lucifer said with a small smile
Mammon: You know Mammon is greedy, he is the Avatar of Greed; with how attached he is to you and how he basks in all your attention, even demanding it at times. You were almost surprised how red you got in angry when some Demon made a comment about Mammon’s greed and stupidity. While you and all the brothers have said similar things, it was out of love this was out of being vicious. You were even more surprised with yourself when you realized you had stalked towards the offender and grasp them by their collar.“
What did you just say?” You tightened your grip on their collar. The demon looked stunned but recovered quickly. “What is a measly human like you gonna do punch me?” the demon had a taunting smile on his face, so you did just that. The first punch connected to the Demon’s nose, the second was their cheek, you lost count after the third punch. The only sounds were the demons first gasp at the contact then the groans that followed each punch and the sound of skin on skin contact. 
At some point, Leviathan, Satan, and Asmodeus stopped and watched the scene unfold. Mammon only broke up the fight, or more like beating session, when Lucifer showed up and commanded that a stop was put to this. 
Mammon heaved you off the Demon, holding your arms down and wrapped his arms around your waist. Mammon rushed to get you under the safety of the house. He brought you to his bathroom, which was huge. He gently set you on the counter.
“You weren’t hurt, were you?” he asked softly, probably the quietest you have ever heard Mammon. He brought his hands to your face and wiped tears off your face. That was when you realized how hot your face was and that you were you crying. You shook your head, no, not being able to find your voice and not trusting it to not crack.
“Hey, it's okay, calm down. I got you, you are safe with me,” that was probably the most honest words Mammon has ever said. You always felt safe and calm with him, but this time his presence wasn’t calming you down. Mammon moved to his sink to grab a hand towel and soaked it in water. He walked back to you slowly, but once he reached you, he took the towel to your face, wiping your face with great care before placing the cool towel on the back of your neck. 
Mammon then moved closer to you and pulled you into a hug, rubbing small circles on your back. You were engulfed in his smell and you took deep breaths to commit it to memory, so enough you felt that you were a lot calmer.
“Are you okay?” Mammon asked again, pulling away from you slight. You nodded before finding your voice, “I’m sorry,” it was all you could figure to say.“Why are you sorry? Do you regret it or something? It was pretty awesome! Did you see the look on the Demon’s face when you threw the first punch? Or that damage you did? I didn’t know you had it in you,” Mammon was beaming when he talked about the event.
“And you did it for the GREAT Mammon,” You rolled your eyes at his common phrase but couldn’t help the smile that appeared on your face.“Are you ready to head to the dining room? Beelzebub might have made a good dent in the food already,” instead of replying you hoped down off the counter before linking your arms. Mammon seemed to stutter and go red before following behind you.
“But ugh, you would never hit me like that right?” Mammon asked worry filling his tone. You unhooked your arm from his and gave him a mischievous smile and proceed to walk away with answering.
“HEY, that was a serious question!” Mammon called to you, rushing to catch up. You only laughed in response. 
Leviathan: “What a weird otaku shut-in. Bet he fucks a body pillow of some busty anime girl,” you overheard from a demon off to your left, your head snapped up and made direct eye contact with Demon.
“Want to say it to his face?” you called to the demon. The demon looked at you with wild eyes then turned to fury. The demon stalled over you to you, with their friend, as they got close you squared your shoulder and started going through all the punches you were taught. A quick glance at Levi and you could see he was fearful.
“What is a puny human like you gonna do? Did you forget that, that you are in the realm of demons?” was sneered at you. Without giving it a second thought, you launched yourself at the demon. The demon with down with a surprised noise, that’s when you just started wailing on the poor demon. The demon’s friend was quick to move forward, “Hey human, come on,” the demon reached out towards you. “Don’t even think about touching them,” Levi growled, stepping towards the fight too. “Just help me get the human off my friend.” The friend sounds desperate. Levi moved forward and hoisted you up, “I think this stupid demon learned their lesson, MC” You huffed in response and started to walk off but turned and look at the demons, “That’s your warning, next time I won’t go as easy on you,” you threatened before walking away with you head high. 
You didn’t mean to, but you ended up finding yourself hiding from Levi. Making sure all contact was kept short and making sure to not give him time to bring up the incident. By Saturday, day five of this shenanigan, Levi came to your room and knocked on the door. You froze when you saw him at your door when you opened it. “Levi,” you said breathlessly. “May I come in?” It isn’t often the brother’s asked to come in, other than Lucifer. You stepped out the way to allow him to enter, you closed and locked the door so none of the brothers intrude. 
Levi sat on your bed but didn’t look up when you sat beside him, he kept looking at his twisting hands. “I am sorry,” Levi finally said to break the silence. He looked at you full of guilt. “Oh Levi, you didn’t do anything wrong,” you reached out towards him but let your hand fall short unsure if he wants to be touched. His eyes filled with confusion, “Then why…?”. You know this was coming, you didn’t need him to finish the question. “I don’t really know and that’s not a good answer at all” you began then hesitated before continuing, “I got scared and worried about what you thought of me or if you were mad at what I did,” it was your turn to drop your head and look away from him. “Why would I mad at you? That was totally like the scene in TSL where Henry fights for Lord of the Shadow’s honor! It was so cool; it proves that you really are my Henry!” You couldn’t the laugh that left your lips and pulls Levi in a big hug. He was stunned but returned it quickly.
“Wanna go watch this new anime with me? Or there was a game that was just released that I’ve been dying to play with you.” Levi said as he got up off the bed and pulled at your hand. You smiled brightly at him as you got up to follow him to his room.   
 Satan: Wrath, it was probably the deadliest sins you committed the most. That’s all you felt when you heard someone insult Satan, you saw red, your body shook. You talk with fists a lot, something that always got you in sticky situations and this wasn’t much difference. You were ready to pick a fight with this Demon. 
You approach the demon before grabbing them by their blazer and slamming them against the wall. You told the demon off and spoke threats that you ensured where promises. Even though there is an obvious power difference between you and the demon. You took a swing just to ensure that your threats were understood. The noise that was created when the demon’s head hit the walk, filled you with pride and satisfaction. You told the demon that this is only a taste of what would happen. Before dropping your hold on their clothing. 
When you turned around you saw Satan in his Demon form but looked at you in confusion. You walked over to him; you hooked your arms together as you flashed him a devious smile. You walked back to the house in silence.
“Why don’t you come to my room?” Satan asked still in his demon form. You started to feel bad knowing that he was still uptight and stressed about what happened because he wasn’t back in his humanoid form. 
You gave him a small nod before walking in the direction to his room, the looks the brothers gave when they saw Satan in his demon form didn’t go unnoticed, but no comments were made. Once you got to his room, he gestured to you to sit on his bed. As you went to his bed, he walked over to his desk and grabbed a book off it. Satan joined you on the bed and moved around you to lay down. “Lay down with me,” it wasn’t really a question, but you knew you didn’t have too. Once you laid down, he immediately pulled you close so you cuddle on his chest. He then proceeds to read to you, you realized that it was your favorite book you have read together and talked about. 
His chest vibrated as he talked in a very soothing voice and before you knew it you fell asleep on his chest. You woke up sometime later, the first thing you noticed is that you weren’t in your room, then there was a warm body underneath you. You jerked away with an apology, but Satan quickly dismissed your apology. You immediately noticed that he wasn’t in his demon form anymore and he looked very calm and relaxed.
“Are you feeling better?” Satan asked sitting up.
“Yes?” you weren’t really sure what he was talking about and he saw that. With a laugh, he replied, “usually when I get enraged and let myself indulged in my wrath I escape to read for a bit.” That’s when you realized, that Satan was trying to comfort you after your outburst and felt touched.
“Thank you, Satan,” you said looking up at him with a small smile, you quickly pressed a kiss on his cheek. 
Satan flushed immediately, “Dinner should be soon...” Satan started but looked like he was lost for words.
“Can you continue to read to me after dinner?” You asked in a small voice, looking shyly at him.“Of course, I can,” Satan looked relieved and happy.
 When you fell asleep cuddling with Satan and end up spending the night in his room. None of the brothers made a comment but Asmodeus gave you wink in the morning and Lucifer raised an eyebrow at you, but all you did was laugh.
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frostysunflowers · 4 years
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Yooo I finally managed to fill another bingo square! 
Happy Valentine’s Day @spider-beep​ I hope you enjoy this! Also available on ao3. 
Summary: 
"So let’s address the sleep deprived elephant in the room," Tony says conversationally. "What’s going on, kid?"
"Nothing," Peter says, quickly shoving an entire strip of bacon into his mouth as a show of alertness. "M’fine!"
"God, Tony, he’s even worse than you," Rhodey snorts.
Peter grins at the comment, as does Tony, and they share a chuckle while Rhodey groans in playful dismay.
"Deny it all you want, kiddo," Tony twirls his fork close to Peter’s face, "the craters beneath your eyes are giving away all your secrets."
or
Peter and sleep have been avoiding each other lately. Enter Tony Stark, the man with many plans.
Trope - Sleepy 
04:45 glares tauntingly at Peter from the clock on the nightstand, vivid and red in the darkness of his room. He’s been checking it periodically, watching the minutes click by with an almost apathetic fascination since he fell into bed just after eleven, wide awake but determined to give himself the best chance of getting some sleep.
It’s not like he hasn’t had any, though the short bursts that he’d managed to snatch throughout biology and chemistry while using Ned’s shoulder as a pillow have done nothing to chip away at the shroud of utter weariness that has been covering him for weeks now.
He’s hardly a stranger to the odd sense of contemplation that seems to only exist between the midnight hour and the crack of dawn. Spider-Man is one for keeping unconventional hours here and there, much to May and Tony’s chagrin, and Peter’s lost count of the amount of times he’s seen the sun throw its first rays across the city skyline. The tide of existential thoughts will pass over him slowly in those moments, casting him adrift on a sea of speculations and dreams that thrill and terrify, along with the inevitable sweep of memories that leave him with a sharp pressure in the pit of his chest and a cavern of emptiness in his stomach.
That’s the thing about tiredness - it paves the way to feeling exposed and vulnerable to all the things that sleep usually does a good job of keeping away.
Peter groans as he rolls onto his stomach, then onto his side, then onto his front, willing himself to not look at the clock and see the time glowing back at him, unfair and uncaring of his plight. He looks over towards the window, thrown open to let in the warm air and white noise of the city, and huffs out an irritated sigh, completely unable to see anything of interest from this angle.
He could read a book, watch something on his phone or even make a start on the mountain of homework he’d come home with, but the muzzy lethargy swirling around inside his head keeps him where he is, drifting between staring blankly into space or daydreaming about nothing in particular.
So when there’s a loud, metallic bang of something landing outside on the fire escape, Peter assumes he’s imagining it.
Until Iron Man sticks his head through the window.
"What the fu - " Peter squawks, scrambling sideways in surprise, blankets tangling around him while his heart slams fiercely into his ribs. "Mister Stark?!" he wheezes, flicking on the bedside light.
"Hey, kid. Rough night?"
"What? Yeah, I mean, no!" Peter kicks the blankets aside and hops to his feet, tugging awkwardly on the hem of his tatty t-shirt that has a faded Captain America shield on it. "Just, uh, w-what are you doing here?"
"Was in the neighbourhood," Tony says as he clambers into the room with a surprising amount of grace, "and happened to realise that the metaphorical light was on in your window."
Tony points and Peter glances down at where his watch, the one Tony had made especially for him, loops around his left wrist.
"Oh, man," Peter groans, flopping backwards onto the bed, mattress bouncing with a squeak. "I’m pretty sure that’s an invasion of privacy, you know."
"Not my fault you forgot to take it off," Tony says, voice more his own now as the mask retracts. "Let’s just be grateful you weren’t getting up to any other nocturnal teenage shenanigans and say no more."
Peter muffles a distressed little yelp into his hands, peering over his fingers to watch Tony perch beside him.
Tony wrinkles his nose at Peter’s shirt. "You hungry?"
"Uhh...what?"
"It’s a simple question, kiddo."
"I...I don’t - I mean, yeah, I could eat?"
"Great!" Tony claps his hands together with a clank. "Grab your shoes."
Peter blinks at him and remains exactly where he is. Tony stares right back, one eyebrow raised expectantly.
"Can we hurry it up?" a voice hisses from outside. "There’s a stack of pancakes with my name on it - " War Machine’s face appears in the window, " - and you’re buying, Tones."
Peter laughs, a hysterical burst of noise. "Am - Am I dreaming? Is this a dream?" he asks.
"If it were a dream, you’d be wearing a different shirt," Tony says, prodding him in the ribs. "Let’s hustle, kid. The best pancakes in New York wait for no man or spider-child."
Peter, still somewhat in a bewildered daze, manages to pull on a pair of sneakers along with a faded, oversized hoodie, one borrowed from Tony’s own wardrobe that says NASA Kennedy Space Centre 1985 on the front. Rhodey’s outraged cry of "Goddamnit, Tony, I knew you stole it!" quickly alerts him to the real owner. His mortified splutters and attempts to yank the hoodie off send Tony and Rhodey into a ridiculous bickering match, and it’s all Peter can do to tuck the hood over his head and hold on tight while Tony zooms through the air, the lights of the city glinting off the red and gold of his suit like solar flares against the predawn sky.
Soon enough, the suits are parked outside and the three of them are tucked into a window booth inside a dawn-lit diner that Peter has passed many times in his life - Uncle Calo’s - with three milkshakes sitting on the table and a large breakfast order being prepared in the kitchen.
"Okay but, like, banana is the best milkshake flavour, hands down, no contest."
"Who taught you such a disgraceful thing?" Tony plucks the straw out of his own chocolate shake and points it at Peter. "It’s low ranking on any milkshake flavour scale."
"Do you even hear yourself right now?" Rhodey says as he licks a smear of pink bubbles away from his lips. "The guy who I’ve seen drink motor oil throwing shade over a milkshake flavour?
"Throwing shade?" Tony mocks with a laugh.
"Oh, for the love of - "
"You drank motor oil?" Peter asks, wrinkling his nose in disgust.
Tony shrugs nonchalantly as he chews on his straw. "Dum-E was still learning, okay? Mixed it up with coffee, poured it into my mug, I took a sip and far too many years later, I’m being made to suffer for my actions."
Something clicks in Peter’s head and he laughs. "So that’s the reason for the ‘no drinking whatever Dum-E gives you’ rule in the lab? ‘Cause you never told him he got it wrong."
"Oh, he told him," Rhodey chuckles. "Dum-E just doesn’t listen. Wonder where he gets that from."
There’s an undeniably fond smile on Tony’s face that Peter can’t look away from. It’s one of the rarer Tony smiles, the kind that reaches the corners of his eyes and makes them wrinkle like tissue paper. It turns something inside Peter warm and soothing and he feels his shoulders unclench a little, loosening muscles that he didn’t even realise he was tensing.
Uncle Calo himself, an impossibly tall man with a deep laugh, appears by the side of their table and presents three towering stacks of pancakes with such a flourish, it’s a wonder the plates don’t fly out of the window.
"Enjoy, my friends!" he gushes in an overly exaggerated accent, far too joyful for such a ridiculous time of morning, and strides away to pour more coffee for what looks like an exhausted student dozing on top of a bunch of books at the counter.
Peter eyes the mountain of pancakes with wide eyes. There’s syrup drizzled all over and streaks of crispy bacon with a scattering of blueberries here and there. A quick glance at the Elvis Presley clock on the wall tells him that it’s now half five in the morning.
It’s half five in the morning, he’s functioning on less than an hour of sleep and he’s eating pancakes and drinking milkshakes with Tony Stark and James Rhodes.
A blueberry bounces off his nose.
"Stop thinking and eat, kid."
Peter does as he’s told, spearing one deliciously gooey forkful after another, listening quietly as Tony and Rhodey trade teasing barbs in what is clearly a post mission tradition for the two of them, familiar and comfortable.
‘Sherry, Sherry baaabbyyy,’ sings out from the gaudy jukebox in the corner and the growing rush of commuters outside on the street is oddly hypnotic, holding Peter’s attention long enough for his eyes to droop a little.
He’s used to this feeling though, how misleading and unfairly taunting it is, and a buzz of alertness zips through him just as his head starts to drop to the side. His fork clatters against the plate, pausing Tony and Rhodey’s bickering and drawing their attention fully onto him.
"So let’s address the sleep deprived elephant in the room," Tony says conversationally. "What’s going on, Pete?"
"Nothing," Peter says, quickly shoving an entire strip of bacon into his mouth as a show of alertness. "M’fine!"
"God, Tony, he’s even worse than you," Rhodey snorts.
Peter grins at the comment, as does Tony, and they share a chuckle while Rhodey groans in playful dismay.
"Deny it all you want, kiddo," Tony twirls his fork close to Peter’s face, "the craters beneath your eyes are giving away all your secrets."
It’s not an insult or a dig, but Peter can’t help shrinking in his seat a little, one thumb reaching up to brush against the shadows, the deepness of them almost physical beneath his touch.
"Luckily for you," Tony carries on, "I’m an expert in avoiding sleep and therefore know all the tricks to actually getting it."
"Yeah, ‘cause I taught them to you, jackass," Rhodey says. "You’d have crashed and burned hard from sleep deprivation a hundred times over if it weren’t for me."
"Yeah, yeah, you’re amazing, we get it," Tony waves him off. "Point is, Pete, you can’t keep this up forever so it’s time to be proactive."
"I’ve tried everything," Peter sighs, head falling into his palm. "Early nights, meditation, not using anything electrical before bed. I even started using May’s lavender shower gel, which smells gross by the way," he says with a grimace.
Tony is looking at him thoughtfully, a searching gaze of careful concern, wordless understanding in his eyes which glint brightly in the glow of pale red light coming from the neon Open! sign in the window. It adds a layer of intensity to his expression that tells Peter he has nowhere to run from this situation.  
Peter knows that May’s been worried too. He’d spotted a couple of pamphlets sticking out of her handbag a few nights ago, titles like Insomnia: All You Need To Know and Is Stress Affecting Your Sleep? making his stomach twist in guilty knots.
It’s not like he doesn’t get any sleep, but Peter knows to use such an argument for a means of defense will sink faster than the Titanic, especially when it’s clear to him now that Tony and May have been discussing things without his knowledge.
"I really have tried, Mister Stark," he eventually shrugs, too tired to feel irritated by the realisation, "but nothing works."
"When did you become such a defeatist, huh? Besides, you’re working with me now," Tony gestures to himself while Rhodey rolls his eyes, "and you know I always get results."
*********
"We’re going where?" Peter asks a week later as he pulls on his seatbelt with a yawn.
"Camping, Underoos," Tony says cheerily, giving him a wide grin. "Tents, sleeping bags, the works."
Peter ducks his head to look out of the car at the grey skies above. "Uh, didn’t they forecast rain for tonight?"
"Sure did."
Tony offers no further explanation and it’s a quiet but pleasant drive out of the city, the bustling streets and looming buildings falling away and winding roads lined by tall trees taking their place.
Peter gazes out at the scenery with fascination, opening the window to breathe in the scent of pine and wildflowers. It’s so different to the smells of the city and he leaves the window fully open until they eventually turn off onto a dirt track that leads them to a large, shabby looking cabin sitting serenely by a sprawling lake.
"What is this place?" Peter asks as he scrambles out of the car, looking around in awe. "Is this yours, Mister Stark?"
"Just a little something I purchased in a flight of fancy after the whole Ultron debacle," Tony explains, expression unreadable as he comes to stand beside Peter. "Bit of a fixer upper, as you can see."
"Do you think you ever will?"
"Me? Living in the woods?" The snort Tony gives is half-hearted, and suddenly Peter has an image of him standing on the threshold of the cabin steps, cup of coffee in hand and a peaceful look on his face. It’s a warming thought, one Peter wishes he’ll get a chance to see become a reality.
"I can see it."
Tony looks at him, a curious quirk to the corner of his mouth, and then gives Peter’s hair a playful ruffle.
"C’mon, bud," he says, walking over to the trunk and popping it open to reveal the mess of objects inside. ‘We’ve got camping to do."
It takes them far longer than it should to put up the tent. It’s way larger than they need, made to sleep at least six people, and they somehow find themselves in a muddle with the poles, poking and prodding at each other as they manhandle everything into place. Peter rolls out the foam mats and the sleeping bags while Tony sets up a battery powered lantern to hang directly above their heads. Some pillows, a few extra blankets and one of Tony’s tablets propped up in the middle of the floor completes the process, giving the tent a cosy feel.
They settle themselves outside on two fold out chairs around a small fire, the flames bright and inviting against the backdrop of the darkening day. Tony pours out two mugfuls of homemade tomato soup, courtesy of Bruce, from a thermos and hands Peter a package of sandwiches. Peter immediately makes quick work of them as he watches heavy, black clouds slowly roll in over the lake.
"You ever been camping before, kid?" Tony asks, clearly unbothered by the approaching rain.
"Once with Ned’s family," Peter says around a mouthful of ham and cheese. "Our tent fell down during the night and Ned’s sister and her friend got busted by Mister Leeds for smoking a joi — uh," he smiles sheepishly at Tony’s raised eyebrow, "for doing something in the woods."
"Yeah, ‘cause that sounds way better," Tony chuckles gleefully. "You can say the word joint around me, Pete. I promise it won’t wreck your wholesomeness."
"Shut up," Peter snorts, taking another bite of his sandwich.
"Helps some people sleep, you know," Tony says after a moment. "Bruce swears by it."
Peter chokes, coughing out a spray of crumbs. "Doctor Banner smokes pot?"
"Not all the time. Just whenever he feels like he’s sailing a bit too close to jolly green town." Tony takes a sip of soup and then looks down into the mug with an amused grin. "Turns him into a huge marshmallow. Pretty sure it would take the jaws of life to pry Thor out of one of those hugs."
Peter tries to imagine a drowsy, dopey Bruce snuggling up to Thor on the couch, and it looks hilarious no matter which way he pictures it. He meets Tony’s mirthful gaze and shakes his head with a grin. "That’s, uh...wow."
"It’s an option," Tony suggests. "Don’t give me that look, kid," he adds when Peter blinks wide eyes at him. "I’m just saying, if you ever want to try such things, better to do it in a safe environment." He peers thoughtfully at Peter. "With that metabolism of yours, it’d probably take a fair amount to have any effect."
"Are we seriously talking about me smoking pot?"
Tony shrugs and slurps more soup, the teasing sparkle in his eyes bright over the rim of his mug. "I don’t know, are we?"
"No!" Peter splutters with a laugh. "No, I don’t - okay, like once, me and Ned thought about maybe - uh, I mean...no?"
"Steady on the no train there, Underoos. Like I said, should you ever consider it, come to me first, yeah? No need for you to waste time hotboxing with a bunch of high schoolers when you could be getting safely blissed out on the good stuff with Bruce Banner."
The surrealness of the conversation, the fact that he knows Tony is being completely serious, makes Peter’s stomach churn a little. Being offered a free pass is one thing, especially when it’s from Tony, but to have it offered with the tentative intention of helping him sleep is something else. He doesn’t like to think of Tony worrying about him like that, despite the part of him that gobbles up the feeling of being cared for with all the ravenous hunger of a starving man.
He just...wishes he wasn’t so tired.
"Sooo," Tony says, "you asked that scary friend of yours out yet?"
"Oh my god," Peter groans, but he meets Tony’s grin with a genuine, if slightly exasperated smile.
The sky is very dark now, nothing but one, huge black cloud. The two of them stare up at it in anticipation, the air thick with the suspense, and Peter laughs at the excitement he feels over something so mundane. Tony is laughing too, but it quickly turns into a loud shout as the heavens open to unleash a torrent of rain upon them.
"There’s supposed to be a warning drip!" Tony exclaims as they abandon their mugs of soup and dive into the entrance of the tent, shucking their shoes and sodden jackets and scrambling inside, managing to only get a small part of the tent wet as they shimmy into thick sweatpants and hoodies.
"Movie?" Tony pulls out his tablet from a bag and turns it on. "What are we feeling? Please don’t say Star Wars. Or refer to any movies from the eighties as old."
"Uh…you pick."
It’s only when they’re up to the sick Triceratops scene in Jurassic Park that Peter realises why Tony wanted to go camping even when the forecast predicted bad weather. With the rapid drumbeat of the rain outside the tent, the cosy nest of blankets, pillows and his thick sleeping bag covering him from almost head to toe and the soft light from the lantern, it’s the perfect combination for lulling him to sleep.
Peter glances over at where Tony is snuggled up in his own mini blanket mountain, face bathed in a slightly blue aura from his phone, looking as far away from the public image he projects day after day with his tousled hair and oversized MIT hoodie that probably belongs to Rhodey.
None of it is enough to make Peter feel sleepy, but it’s soothing and comforting and helps to unknot some of the tension in his body. He sinks further into his pillows with a sigh, catching a glimpse of a satisfied smirk on Tony’s face as he does so.
He isn’t quite sure if he drifts off or not, because the next thing he knows, the T-Rex is crashing through the roof of the Jurassic Park jeep and there’s an earth-trembling boom from outside.
Peter’s frantic attempt to untangle himself is thwarted by Tony yanking him close and wrapping an arm around him protectively just as the tent door opens.
"My friends!" Thor cries jubilantly as he crouches down to peer at them. "I’m glad I found you!"
"You better not have left gigantic scorch marks on my land, Point Break," Tony grumbles as he sinks back into the pillows in relief, half pulling Peter down with him. "The hell are you doing here anyway?"
"Your fair lady Pepper told me you were camping and I wish to join you."
Thor moves further into the tent, leaving his shoes and hammer by the entrance, and flops down beside Tony with a damp thud. "Oh, is this that movie you told me about?" he asks Peter with a grin. "The one with the fearsome creatures that want to eat everyone? He’s rather puny, isn’t he?" he chuckles as the T-Rex roars on the small screen.
Peter snorts and buries himself back into his sleeping bag, wide awake once again. Tony gives his hair a quick scratch, a silent apology, and Peter butts his hand in response, not minding too much as he listens to Thor excitedly narrate the events of the movie over the sound of the rain.
*********
Peter returns home from patrol a few days later to find most of his living room gone, lost beneath a sea of blankets and sheets tied together in a lopsided canopy.
"Uh...May?"
A loud rustling and the shaking of a few sheets preludes May’s face poking out from a gap to his left. She smiles warmly at him and beckons him over. Peter obediently follows, ducking down a little to step inside, and feels a sharp tug somewhere in his chest at the sight of the couch sitting beneath a projected sea of stars.
May sits on the couch and pats the space beside her invitingly. Peter doesn’t even bother to remove his mask as he trips over and topples gracelessly onto the cushions, letting the back of his head nestle into one of May’s thighs with a groan. The mask slips free and then a hand settles into his curls, teasing out the knots and smoothing the tangles in slow, methodical strokes.
They sit in silence for a little while, their breathing eventually falling into matching inhales and exhales as they gaze up at the mock night sky above, until Peter tilts his gaze to look at May properly.
"Been a while since we built a fort, huh?" she says. "Remember when it fell down on you and Ned during the night and Ned nearly had a fit trying to dig himself out?"
Peter smiles as the image of a younger Ned squawking in surprised fright comes to mind.
"I used to do this all the time when you were little," May goes on, tugging at a particularly troublesome curl. "It was like having a pet cat. You’d lie there for ages and just let me stroke your hair, hardly moving except to nudge me when I stopped."
Peter’s smile grows, the memory washing warmly over him. "Except for that time when I got gum in it."
"Oh, god," May laughs brightly, "don’t remind me. Watching Ben shave your head was one of the most traumatic moments of my life."
The sharp tug from earlier returns, but it’s harsher and fiercer now, pulling between his ribs and tying itself tightly into his chest. May seems to sense it because her free hand comes to rest upon his forehead.
"Talk to me, baby. I know it’s not nightmares, you don’t sleep long enough to have any. Tell me what’s going on with you."
Peter opens his mouth, barely forms a word on his tongue before May cuts him off. "And don’t even think about trying to tell me that you’re fine," she says firmly, leaving him gaping dumbly up at her for a moment.
"This isn’t the first time I’ve struggled sleeping," he tries weakly.
"No, but it’s definitely the longest time you’ve struggled with it. I’m worried, honey. You’re starting to resemble a raccoon. A very cute raccoon," May says, rubbing her thumb across the space between his brows, "but unless you’re about to rebrand yourself as Raccoon Boy, I need to tell you that this isn’t a good look for you."
"Say raccoon again."
"I’m serious, Peter. You haven’t been like this since...well, for a long time."
Peter feels his chest cave in just as a lump appears in his throat and he sits upright, making May jump with the suddenness of his movement.
"Peter?"
"Really sweaty," he babbles. "I’m really sweaty, I mean. So I’m just gonna…" he mimes a shower spraying over his head and scurries out of the fort, avoiding May’s sad gaze as he goes.
The water is cranked up to extra hot and Peter stands beneath it until his skin turns pink and the pain in his chest reduces to a dull ache.
He falls asleep just before his alarm goes off.
*********
"Hey, kid," Tony greets as Peter clambers into the car. "Ready for a fun day of learning?"
"Uh, not really," Peter says with an owlish blink. "Biology test and Spanish class doesn’t exactly scream good time, Mister Stark."
Tony whistles through his teeth as he guns the engine into life. "What is the educational system coming to these days."
Peter hums in response and props himself on the window, closing his eyes to the feel of it rattling softly against his forehead. "Why you here anyway? Where’s Happy?"
"You know, once upon a time you would have lost your shit having me drive you to school."
"Yeah, back when I was trying to impress you and didn’t know about you owning a pair of Iron Man slippers."
"Hey," Tony pokes Peter in the shoulder, earning a slow chuckle, "they were a gift from someone special."
"Happy told me you’re lying about him buying them for you."
Tony curses under his breath and Peter laughs again, nuzzling further into the window, the plush leather of the seat far too alluring for someone functioning on a measly two hours of sleep. He senses Tony’s gaze on him, quick glances every few minutes that he knows are warm and thoughtful without having to look.
"What are you feeling for dinner?"
Peter opens his eyes at that and shifts to look at Tony.
"I had breakfast like twenty minutes ago, Mister Stark. "
"What’s that got to do with dinner?" Tony says, waving an impatient hand. "What do you fancy?"
Peter slumps back in the seat, fiddling with his sleeves as he considers his options. The lack of sleep has played havoc with his appetite lately, leaving him wedged in an uncomfortable spot between ravenous and lacking any sort of desire to eat a thing. Even May’s mac and cheese with cut up pieces of ham, the only meal within her disastrous cooking repertoire that he actually likes, had done nothing to tickle his taste buds as he valiantly shovelled away a few bites last night.
"C’mon, kiddo, there’s gotta be something your mutant metabolism is craving."
He feels himself smile at a sudden flash of memory, one of Tony’s face as he chewed on May’s only other ‘speciality’. "Remember when May made Hamburger Helper? The Philly cheesesteak flavour one?"
"That was Philly cheesesteak flavour?" Tony says, eyebrows lifting high and lip curling slightly with disgust. "I don’t care if that’s what you fancy, bud, I feel like I would be liable for child endangerment if I let you eat that monstrosity again."
"It’s not that bad. You know, if you wash it down with some juice."
"So that’s what you want? Philly cheesesteak?"
"Not that…" Peter says, eyes zeroing in on a familiar fast food joint now passing by the window. His stomach rumbles loudly to accompany his declaration of "but pizza might be good."
Tony snaps his fingers approvingly.  
"I know a great little place."
One bogus phone call to the school, a resigned sigh from May, a few snatches of sleep and several hours on Tony’s jet later, the two of them are tucked around a table outside a restaurant in the middle of the Piazza Duomo , an impossibly large pizza resting between them amongst pots of mixed olives and glasses of fresh orange juice.
"Don’t tell Rhodey we came here by the way," Tony says as he pops a black olive into his mouth with a flick of his wrist, "He loves Italy and Amalfi is one of his favourite places. Took him here," he nods at the bustling trattoria where inside a group of waiters are huddling together with a guitar and a couple of tambourines, "one summer during college and he’s never eaten spaghetti allo scoglio anywhere else."
Peter nods obediently, far too interested in the size of the slice he’s holding up towards his mouth. Tony smirks at his wide-eyed expression and gives him a nod. "Get on with it, kid."
An explosion of flavour hits Peter’s tongue as he takes a curious bite; a perfect medley of tastes that has him groaning rather obscenely around his mouthful. Tony’s grin is proud, indulgent and soft and Peter manages to roll his eyes whilst cramming more of the slice into his mouth.
"Hey hey hey," Tony smacks him on the arm with a breadstick, "this isn’t some deep dish rubbery crap from Mamma Mia Pizzeria . Give it the respect it deserves."
"I am," Peter garbles, groaning again at the sheer wonderfulness. He swallows and sighs loudly, a sauce smeared smile covering his face. "This is the best thing I’ve ever eaten, Mister Stark."
Tony takes a rather smug sip of his orange juice as the waiters burst into a lively rendition of some Italian song that Peter vaguely recognises. He shifts his chair round to sit beside Tony, making his way through slice after slice as they watch the waiters sing and people dance between tables, Tony’s arm a comforting weight just behind Peter’s back the entire time.
The chest deep ache that he felt that night talking to Maty returns as he lifts his head to glance up at the sky, awash with more stars than he’s ever seen in his life, even when covered with the hazy glow of light from the buildings around them. It leaves Peter with a small sense of melancholy that flutters behind his ribs, somehow shrinking him down amongst the atmosphere, just a blip of existence on a much grander canvas.
"Feeling tired, bud?"
Peter blinks back into the moment just in time to see the waiters spilling out into the plaza, a trail of customers eagerly dancing along behind them. Tony’s watching him curiously, half a breadstick poking out from between his teeth like a cigar, and Peter smiles, the feeling dissipating with another bite of pizza and the crowd singing "That’s amore!" at the top of their lungs.
"You’re kidding, right?"
Tony pointedly sections off another slice. "Best get working on that food coma then."
More pizza and copious amounts of ice cream served as a shared sundae that he and Tony do battle over with spoons does indeed lead to a food coma, one that leaves Peter sprawled out in his seat on the return flight, teetering on the cusp of falling asleep but somehow not quite making it over to the other side.
Tony snores all the way home.
*********
The sleepover that takes place the following Friday is impromptu, but the team, recovering from a particularly arduous three day mission involving an irritable horde of mutated birds in Argentina, embraces it gladly with an enthusiasm that Peter quickly gets caught up in despite the chill of tiredness clinging to every inch of him.
There’s food spread out all over the place when he arrives; bags of chips on the floor, bowls of popcorn balancing on pillows, boxes of pizza in the kitchen and the unmistakable smell of brownies baking in the oven. A classic episode of Star Trek is playing on the television and the majority of the team is spread out across the couches and armchairs beneath a collection of blankets.
Fairly typical for a night in with the Avengers, Nat’s sprained arm and Steve’s fading black eye notwithstanding.
What adds a layer of unusual to the whole thing is that everyone is in pajamas.
Themed pajamas.
Peter rubs a hand over his bashful smile as Tony grins playfully at him. "So, what do you think, kid?"
Tony does a little twirl, arms spread wide to show off every angle of the Spider-Man onesie he’s wearing, along with the infamous Iron Man slippers. "Admittedly it’s not as fetching as your get up, but I like to think I pull it off quite well."
"Thought you didn’t wear pajamas, Mister Stark."
"What gave you that idea?"
"You did!" Peter laughs. "I’ve seen you in suits, jeans and sweatpants but never pajamas. And you called me a teenage cesspit when I was wearing my Star Wars pajama pants a few weeks back, remember?"
"That’s because they were practically stained luminous orange with Cheeto dust, kid. Those things are a health hazard." Tony waves a hand dismissively. "Anyway, let’s focus on the now instead of the before, yeah? And right now, you’re wearing a Hello Kitty onesie and I must take pictures."
Peter leaps away just as Tony pulls out his phone and scurries over to join the others, giving Rhodey a smile when the man offers him one of the bowls of popcorn.
"I still don’t quite understand the concept of these ‘pajamas,’ Thor says thoughtfully, plucking at his rather tight fitting t-shirt, making the image of the Hulk’s face stretch out. "On Asgard, everyone sleeps bare."
"Yeah, buddy," Tony claps him on the back, "you already treated us to that delightful aspect of your culture."
Steve chuckles into his drink, looking a little pained at the memory.
The evening passes by pleasantly, full of all the typical bickering and fond camaraderie that Peter knows so well by now. They plough through the food in record time, leading to a raid on the freezer and various tubs of ice cream being passed around. Peter assists Tony in making several batches of virgin strawberry daiquiris, sneaking taster slurps while he scoops warm cookie dough into a bowl and slathers it with chocolate sauce.
"What is it with you and sweater paws," Tony gripes, tugging on Peter’s sleeve where it covers his fingers.
"Spiders have paws," Peter shrugs. "I mean, technically they’re called claw tufts, but paws work too. There’s something like over half a million tiny stands of fur sticking out of them."
"Interesting," Tony says, looking mildly disturbed. "I feel the need to remind you that you are in fact still a human and not an actual spider."
"I’ll remember that the next time you call me spider-baby," Peter grins, twitching away as Tony tries to prod him with the end of a spoon.
"Boss," FRIDAY cuts in, "Dum-E is making his way up to you in the elevator."
"He’s what?" Tony chokes, nearly inhaling the straw clutched between his teeth. "Why? How?"
"The Release the Hounds protocol was activated."
"By wh - " Tony levels a glare over at the couches and marches over towards a cackling Rhodey while Peter goes to greet Dum-E as the bot rolls into the room.
"Hey buddy," he says, patting Dum-E’s claw, receiving a quiet beep in response. "You wanna help me?"
The bot clacks his pincers and follows Peter into the kitchen, dutifully holding the bowl of cookie dough while Peter pours the daiquiri mixture into some jugs, throws in some straws and carries them back over to where Tony and Rhodey are swatting each other with pillows while the others ignore them in favour of the television.
"I mean, look at him!" Tony is yelling, gesturing at Dum-E. "Appearing like some metal boogeyman of my nightmares."
"There’s no such thing as the boogeyman," Peter says as he passes the jugs out.
"You won’t be saying that when he comes for you during the night to steal your toes."
Peter rolls his eyes and falls back onto the couch with a yawn. He practically feels Tony lock in on the reflex and keeps their gazes from meeting by turning to take the bowl of cookie dough from Dum-E.
"You have beings here that steal toes?" Thor asks, sounding rather perturbed.
"He’s just kidding, Thor," Bruce promises.
"No, I’m not," Tony replies, clearly hellbent on getting revenge of some kind on anybody for Dum-E’s escape from the lab. "The boogeyman is real, isn’t he, honeybear?"
"Oh, sure," Rhodey says, "if you call yourself hiding under my bed at college and screeching like a banshee whilst drunk one night as definitive proof of the boogeyman."
"I told you before, that wasn’t me."
"Does this man of boogey posses much fighting skill?"
"There’s no boogeyman!" Steve laughs exasperatedly.
Dum-E, who had been inspecting one of the abandoned bowls of popcorn with curious clicks of his claw, suddenly lurches upright and leans over towards Tony with a drawn out trill.
"No, Dum-E, there’s no – you don’t even know what a boogeyman is!"
The bot continues to shift closer to Tony, wheels rolling unsuccessfully against the side of the couch, and beeps loudly.
"Hey, hey, Rover!" Tony barks, ducking away. "What do I look like? Santa? You’re not sitting on me!"
Peter loses it then and dissolves into a fit of laughter that makes him shake from head to toe. He’s not even sure what exactly he finds funny out of the mess of ridiculousness of the last five minutes, but that does nothing to stop the hysterics that leave him breathless and wheezing, tears streaming down his face.
Everybody else is laughing too, but it’s half-hearted, almost awkward. Peter suddenly remembers the paragraph about the laughing stage in one of May’s pamphlets, how the body changes the normal mix of chemicals and hormones in an attempt to fight off extreme tiredness, leading to uncontrollable fits of laughter. He wills the memory to make him stop but it doesn’t help and he scrambles off the couch with a gasp, staggering out of the room towards the nearest bathroom.
The face staring back at him from the mirror is blotchy and wet, pallid with purple shadows framing his eyes. He turns the tap on and splashes his face, rubbing extra hard to try and dispel the gritty feeling beneath his eyelids.
"Peter?" Tony appears in the doorway. "You okay?"
"Yeah," Peter croaks, "I’m good, Mister Stark, just - "
"We really gotta find a way to crack this, Pete."
Peter feels the urge to cry, and it shows on his face in the thin set of his mouth and the tremble of his chin. Tony steps forward, placing a hand gently on Peter’s shoulder and squeezing gently. The touch seeps into his weary muscles and Peter slumps forward, hands gripping the edge of the sink.
"It’s not that bad - "
"Kid," Tony’s voice is patient but firm, "this is me you’re talking to, remember?"
The gaze that Peter meets in the mirror is soft and it takes all the willpower he has to not turn around and throw himself into Tony’s arms. Not because he thinks such a move would be unwelcome, but because he knows that all the buckling barriers keeping him upright will collapse the second Tony holds him.
Tony’s strong, like the iron of his suits is somehow melded into all that he is, and right now Peter feels as breakable as glass. The hollows around his eyes are brittle like fine china and there’s a throbbing in his head that threatens to rattle his nerves loose like pieces of a jigsaw, and if Tony’s arms go around him now, he knows that he’ll come apart at the seams.
And he’s far too exhausted to let that happen.
"I don’t know what to do, Mister Stark."
"I know, bud. We’re not giving up yet though." He squeezes Peter’s shoulder again. "C’mon, let’s go back before Thor eats all that disgusting cookie dough."
"It’s delicious and you know it," Peter replies with a weak smile.
"Yeah, but my arteries won’t allow it."
They’re nearly bowled over by Dum-E when he sees them come back, prompting Tony to try and manhandle him into the elevator.
"Oh, pipe down, Skynet," he grunts as Dum-E twists around with a sharp trill. "I’ll oil your joints tomorrow to make up for it, alright? Now go flirt with the blender or something."
Peter tucks himself back onto the couch, accepting the blanket that Rhodey offers him with a small smile, and steadily chews his way through the cookie dough while episode after episode of Star Trek plays, the boisterous commentary of the team eventually falling silent as they drift off one by one until it’s just Peter and Tony left awake.
They don’t talk much, only the odd comment here and there. Peter wonders how much coffee Tony has consumed in order to keep him company, but he can’t pretend that he’s not glad for the company.
It’s well past dawn when his eyes finally close.
*********
It goes on for a while after that and, like usual, Tony comes at the problem with everything he’s got.
There’s a team outing to the movies to watch a Star Wars marathon, resulting in many popcorn fights and trampling of feet in trips to the restroom before almost everyone dozes off in their seats, leaving Peter and a captivated Thor to share the remaining snacks as they watch Luke and Vader duel it out one final time.
Late night bowling comes a few days later which leaves a tired Happy glaring at the scoreboard after he loses miserably to Peter’s perfect score.
Then there’s game night, an event where all out war is nearly declared over Mario Kart and the coffee table somehow breaks in half, along with one of Clint’s fingers.
Tony tries more relaxing options too. He takes Peter to the aquarium where they sit shoulder to shoulder for hours, watching the sharks swirl overheard and the octopus that peeks out to wave at them every so often. He foots the bill for a spa day that sees Peter sprawled lazily on a lilo, MJ wearing her Doc Martens by the pool as she sketches his ‘obvious crisis’ and Ned snoozing on a lounger with cucumber pieces and green goo on his face.
Peter catches bits of sleep here and there, dozing in the back of the car on the way to the compound or using Ned’s shoulder as a pillow again. If he’s lucky, he’ll get an hour or so in his bed. He drifts through each day with a wide-eyed alertness that only comes from frazzled nerves and insatiable weariness, and though his body feels more than willing to crumple into a heap and stay there, everything else refuses to cooperate or give in.  
And then, on a dark night where heavy winds lash rain against the windows of the tower in shimmering sheets, the problem finally makes itself known.
Sitting in the medbay with his left leg propped up on a pillow, showing off the gigantic line of stitches down one side, Peter peers thoughtfully at the cards in his hands.
"Got any sixes?"
Tony shakes his head. "Go fish.''
Peter squints suspiciously at Tony while he reaches over to grab a new card. Tony’s mouth quirks to the side but he gives nothing away.
"Any fours?"
"Go fish."
Peter waits until Tony’s attention is back on his cards, then slowly inches his hand towards his leg. His fingers barely brush the rolled up cuff of his sweatpants before Tony cuts in with a sharp, "Don’t even think about it, kiddo."
"It itches!" Peter complains, falling back into his pillows in defeat.
"That’s what happens while you wait for your skin to knit back together," Tony says. "Just be glad that it was only a flesh wound. I dread to think how you’d be faring right now with a broken bone."
Peter sighs loudly. He knows Tony’s right but he can’t shake the frustration he feels. His healing ability always suffers when he’s run down or lacking in food or sleep, and right now it might as well be non-existent for all the good it’s doing him and the pain in his leg.
And it’s yet another reminder of how tired he is.
He’d been tempted to ask Tony for the super strength stuff that only gets dished out in emergencies on account of just how strong it is, but the idea of an artificial sleep, one induced by medicine and not of his own accord makes him decide against doing so.
It’s a stubborn decision, bordering on self-sabotaging, but Peter can’t bring himself to admit defeat and change his mind.
All he wants to do is just close his eyes and go to sleep.
Instead, he takes another peek at his cards, deliberately taking his time when he feels Tony watching him impatiently.
"C’mon, kid," Tony says. "You know I don’t play games at sloth speed."
"Ew, don’t talk about sloths, Mister Stark."
"Why?" Tony asks, face creasing in bemusement.
"’Cause they’re creepy, that’s why! They’ve got those long claws and really sinister looking faces," Peter says with a shudder. "Have you ever seen one of them move? It’s so weird."
"So when Slothman attacks Queens, should I rule out giving you a call?"
"There’s a Slothman?"
"You don’t believe there’s a boogeyman but you’re willing to believe in the existence of Slothman?"
"Mister Stark, there’s a dude with multiple mechanical arms going around calling himself Doc Ock, what else am I gonna think?"
Tony laughs, and it’s Peter’s favourite of all Tony’s laughs; the one where his head tips to the side and his mouth opens in a bright, gleeful cackle that somehow turns any room a happy kind of warm.
It hits Peter then, the realisation whammying him with all the force of a train.
"I can’t remember Ben’s laugh."
Tony immediately sobers, meeting Peter’s gaze with rapt attention, holding steady as Peter draws in a few sharp breaths.
"I mean...I know I’ve got videos of him on one of my old phones somewhere but I - I should be able to remember without looking at them."
"Peter - "
"And a laugh is a pretty big thing, right? Everyone laughs," Peter makes a mirthless little noise to try and emphasise the point, "so it shouldn’t be hard to forget. Ben laughed a lot, ‘cause he was a happy guy, so how can I forget something like that? How can I ?"
The question bursts out of him with such venom that Tony jumps, but his eyes never leave Peter’s face. Peter has to look away, because he can feel himself cracking wide open, exposing emotions that are as taught and thin as violin strings, trembling in octaves of exhaustion and a sadness he’s clearly been ignoring for far too long.
Tony gathers up the cards, sets them on the bedside table, and then drops his hand onto Peter’s forearm. "Okay, bud, big talk time.”
He gently gives Peter an encouraging shake, a silent command for Peter to look at him, but Peter keeps his gaze down, choosing to stare intensely at the border of pink skin surrounding his stitches.
"May told me that it was the second anniversary of Ben’s passing two months ago," Tony eventually says, gentleness lacing his words, "and that things....didn’t quite go according to plan?"
Guilt swipes across Peter’s skin like multiple nicks of a razor blade. It churns him up inside and he wonders how he possibly went so long without realising that this, this whole god awful wretched thing, was what had been keeping him up night after night.
"We - we knew it was coming," he says quietly. "Had this whole plan to go sit down at the cemetery, go for a walk to the cafe Ben used to like buying cakes from, watch his favourite movie. Then I had that thing with that crazy lizard guy trying to bite people in Rockefeller Centre, May was working extra shifts and we just...I didn’t even realise until the next evening and that’s only ‘cause I found May crying in the kitchen about it when I came home."
Tony tugs him forward and he goes willingly, letting his forehead knock into Tony’s collarbone. A warm hand peppered with callouses cups the back of his neck and a thumb softly strokes the space just behind his ear.
"I miss him all the time, Mister Stark. How did I forget?"
"You’ve answered your own question there, Underoos. You do something all the time, you get used to it. Grief is no different." Tony’s thumb taps firmly against his skin. "And you didn’t forget, you got distracted. A very understandable and human thing to do."
"That’s the same thing - "
"It really isn’t, kiddo."
Peter huffs out an irritated sigh, the anger prickling inside of him like thorns on a rose bush, yet he can’t bring himself to pull away from Tony. There’s always something so familiar about this kind of comfort, quiet but strong and undeniable, and more than ever Peter wants to latch onto it with all his strength.
"Do you blame May?" Tony asks.
"What? No, of course not - "
"Then why blame yourself?"
"Because I was there!" Peter hisses through clenched teeth, pushing his forehead harder against Tony’s chest and clenching his hands into fists as he’s overwhelmed, as the door of all that he’s been running from finally bursts open, spewing forth a dark sorrow that makes him shake. "I owe Ben and May everything. I couldn’t save him when he died, Mister Stark, and I can’t even remember him properly when he’s gone."
His breath hitches but he refuses to let the tears in his eyes fall. Instead, he focuses on the steady thump - thump, thump - thump of Tony’s heart, louder than the usual background beat he hears whenever they’re together.
"I can’t fully picture my mom’s face in my head," Tony says, the words reverberating gently in his chest. "Y’know, when I let myself think about her."
The comment surprises Peter. He’s heard Tony talk about Howard a few times, causal throwaway remarks that don’t paint a positive picture, but he can’t remember ever hearing anything about Tony’s mother. He shifts his head to the side, a silent move to show that he’s listening.
"Used to be able to see her clear as day, remember the lines on her face, the exact shade of her eyes. But it didn’t take too long before I needed a physical reminder, and I’m not the sorta guy that spends hours flicking through photo albums."
Peter can hear the bitter regret in Tony’s voice, the sharp undercurrent of aged, enduring pain, and it makes him hurt too.
"I still remember her perfume though. Her favourite kind of breakfast, the songs she would play on the piano."
Tony’s hand moves to his shoulder and Peter leans back to find himself looking into a face of such raw understanding, somehow fierce and soft at the same time.
"There’s no rulebook with this sorta thing, kid. You do what you gotta do, you weather it however you can. I didn’t know your uncle but I know enough to say with absolute certainty that he would never hold a thing like this against you."
"But - "
"You said you remember his favourite bakery, his favourite movie. Bet you remember his favourite dinner too."
"Yeah, but - "
"And how he made you feel, do you remember that?"
Loved. That’s how Ben made Peter feel.
Boundlessly, effortlessly loved.
It’s how May makes him feel every day.
And Tony too.
"Y-yeah, I remember."
"Then you haven’t forgotten him, kid. Nowhere near close."
Peter wants to believe Tony so desperately, but there’s gravity in his lungs, holding him down in turbulent waters of doubt and shame.
"I’m scared that I will, though."
Tony digs out his phone, looks at Peter thoughtfully for a moment, as though trying to decide something, and then nods to himself. His thumb slides over the screen a few times and then he holds it out to Peter.
Peter takes it slowly, eyes lingering curiously on Tony’s unreadable expression before he looks down at the phone.
A picture of Ben, curly haired and brightly smiling, looks back at him.
"The...The Ben Parker Foundation..." Peter reads the words beneath the picture slowly, heart thudding to a standstill, "a charity dedicated to keeping Queens Gun-Clean."
Fresh tears prickle his eyes and he drops the phone to rub his hands against his face. Tony’s palm resettles against the back of his neck again, and for a few long moments Peter simply tries to breathe through the sharp stinging behind his nose and the pressure in his throat.
"Y-you set that up?"
"Yeah. Me and your aunt. It’s all a-go, plenty of funding and activity already flowing through it. I’m a trustee, but you and May are totally in charge."
"Me?"
"Of course you," Tony says, ducking his head and pulling Peter’s hands away from his face so that their eyes can meet. "Who else knows how to keep the streets of Queens safe better than you?" He smiles tenderly, Peter’s favourite kind of smile. "I know it’s a not a guarantee or a complete fix, buddy, but May and I figured - oof!"
Peter doesn’t mean to grab Tony with such force, but that doesn’t stop him from hugging the man ridiculously tight, fingers bunching folds of hoodie and muscles squeezing intensely. Tony squirms a bit before he’s able to wrap his arms around Peter, holding him back with almost as much intensity.
"Thank you, Mister Stark."
Tony doesn’t reply, but a quick kiss drops into Peter’s hair.
The gravity relinquishes its hold and there’s a pleasant kind of looseness in his chest, tender and newly free from the weight he’d been unknowingly carrying around inside.
But May and Tony knew.
Peter gently breaks the hug and picks the phone back up, sniffing wetly as he stares at Ben’s face.
"Thanks," he says again, looking up and smiling when Tony rolls his eyes exaggeratedly.
"How many times do I have to tell you, kid? You don’t need to thank me. Besides, I can hardly take all the credit. Aunt Hottie is a force of nature. If her and Pepper ever decide to team up, I’m in trouble."
"I like it. I like you and May being friends. Even if it means I get ganged up on."
"Excuse you, I think what you’re referring to is co-parenting," Tony sniffs, a wide grin betraying the haughty tone to his voice. "It takes a village to raise a spider-kid, you know."
Peter rubs a thumb over Ben’s picture. "Lucky for me it’s a pretty good one, then."
Tony’s face goes soft, eyes crinkling in the corners, and he nods before ruffling Peter’s hair. "Yeah."
They go back to their card game, a vibrant tint to their moods made evident in the warmth of their laughter and quiet fondness of their words.
Peter doesn’t notice it at first, the difference between feeling tired and sleepy, until his eyelids start to droop and his head starts lolling to the sides every few minutes while he waits for Tony to take his turn. It’s a safe, warm kind of feeling, something familiar and alluring in the way it curls around his senses like liquid smoke.
He pointedly ignores Tony’s smirk as he settles back against his pillows, tugging the blankets carefully over his leg and around himself like a cocoon.
"You’re not gonna make this super weird and watch me sleep, are you."
"As if," Tony says, folding his arms and slouching down in his chair. "You look like a slobbery koala when you sleep. It’s quite disturbing."
"You’ve never seen a slobbery koala," Peter mumbles, nuzzling his head into a comfier position. "At least I don’t snore."
"Don’t make me get Slothman."
Peter slurs out a ''shhhh,'' and flaps a hand out until it catches Tony on the shoulder, sliding uselessly down Tony’s arm as he finally, finally, starts to drift off.
"Love you too, bud,'' Tony says gently, and that's all Peter remembers as he slips into a warm, inviting darkness.
He can’t quite tell how long he’s out for, but Tony’s voice filters through sometime later, smiling and warm. "Pete. Peeeete. You wanna get up anytime soon, kid?"
"Uh uh," Peter slurs. A hand trails through his curls, a delicate scratch of manicured nails sending a warm buzz down his back. He cracks open an eye and turns his head to peer upwards, smiling dopily when Tony and May come into focus.
"S’time?"
"A little after ten," May says, leaning down to kiss his forehead.
"You’ve been asleep for six hours," Tony tells him, hearing the unspoken question just as Peter’s woozy mind thinks of it. "So we thought we’d check in, make sure you aren’t in danger of your stomach eating itself after not being fed for so long."
A loud rumble meets Peter’s ears and he laughs sheepishly while Tony gives him a knowing look.
The wound on his leg hasn’t quite healed up, but it’s no longer painful and is itching even more, a typical sign of recovery, so Peter doesn’t need much assistance in getting out of bed and following May and Tony up to the penthouse. It’s quiet, but the evidence of a hearty breakfast lingers in the form of eggshell fragments and the mouthwatering perfume of bacon.
"Bunch of ingrates," Tony mutters as he starts rooting around in the fridge, "coming up here and eating my food when they’ve got their own kitchens…" He eyes May warily when she offers to help, and then retreats with a snicker when she whacks him with a small towel.
Peter watches them fondly from where he sits at the counter, chin propped on his hand and grinning freely as their friendly bickering fills the room, mixing in with the post-storm sunshine streaming in through the windows and painting everything bright.
There’s no filling the void left behind by Ben, nor is there any way to stop the encroaching reach of time against what remains. Peter thinks of what he does remember and it’s more than he’d let himself originally believe.
Sitting on Ben’s shoulders, how he always looked fixing his tie in the morning, the distinct rattle of his keys in the door. His strong hugs, his collection of soft flannel shirts, the way he’d always leave his spoon in the sink after making a cup of coffee.
Little details, little moments just like the one playing out in front of him right now, seemingly insignificant for how ordinary they are, but precious all the same.
Peter meets May’s gaze when she looks over at him, sees the understanding there, and feels the last, tiny, lingering knot in his chest come undone.
Plate upon plate of food is set in front of him and he devours every one heartily. He must still look exhausted however, as May cups his cheek when she sits down with her own plate.
"You wanna head back to bed for a bit?" she asks, running her fingers once through his hair.
"No," Peter says after a minute, popping a strawberry into his mouth. "I’m good right now."
They eventually make camp in the living room, settling in for a lazy day, and Peter lasts for another four hours before the allure of the couch becomes too much. There’s no fuss in his movements, just a simple shifting of limbs until he’s on his side with a cushion tucked beneath his head and one of Tony’s stolen hoodies draped over him like a blanket.
"I don’t want to see those eyes open for at least five hours," Tony says, pointing a finger. "Or no pizza for you."
"So lame," Peter retorts, giving May a smile when she winks at him and then closing his eyes with a sigh.
He whispers a silent goodnight to Ben, a form of promise to remember as best he can, to treasure the little details that remain, to never truly forget.
As Peter drifts off, a voice follows him into the dark; a cross between a memory and a dream, a unique kind of lullaby that belongs to only him and one other person.
G’night, Petey.
He sleeps, and he sleeps, and when he wakes up again, the room is softly lit and he can hear the sound of May and Tony talking and laughing somewhere close by.
The tide of inner turmoil is finally a calm sea, the world seems a whole lot brighter, and for the first time in a long time, Peter doesn’t feel tired at all.
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Text
these fools need to learn communication
for @figurative-siren-song‘s Thing!! credits to the fabulous @main-chive and @an-absolute-failure for betaing ( ˘ ³˘)♥ ( ˘ ³˘)♥
Summary: I think the title says it all tbh Warnings: alcohol mention, insecurity, catastrophizing, Virgil panics some + doesn’t have good self care habits, one (1) curse word, Remus is mentioned Wordcount: just a little under 6k
Additional note!! The section that begins with “Remy and Janus are cuddling on Remy’s bed...” is a repeat of the previous scene, but from another POV
Virgil is so tired. It feels like every day there’s some new crisis to deal with or important thing to discuss, and he just wants a couple days to himself to unwind a bit.
But since he can’t get that, he wants a few hours to gripe with someone over everything that’s been going down lately.
Roman is way too dramatic for his tastes, and Patton would probably be too nice about what’s happening. So he goes to Logan. (He briefly toys with the idea of going to one of the Others, but things are… tense with them, so he discards it quickly.)
“Yes?” Logan asks, opening the door to their room.
“I was wondering if you, uh, wanted to complain with me about all the stuff that’s been happening lately? There’s been a lot, and you’ve probably had to deal with more of it than me, and I thought you might like to commiserate? It’s chill if you don’t want to, though,” Virgil says, shifting awkwardly.
“You are welcome to join us.” Logan opens the door wider and steps to the side.
“Us?” Virgil echoes, confused, until he goes inside and sees Janus sitting in a beanbag chair, swirling a wine glass idly. “Oh.”
“Lovely to see you too, Virgil,” fae says dryly.
Virgil scrunches up his nose and wonders if getting to complain about all the recent shenanigans is worth spending time in faer company. Janus mimics the expression—is fae mocking him?—and holds up a bottle of wine, shaking it a little to show that it’s still mostly full. Virgil sighs, shrugs, and conjures a plain beanbag and wine glass, collapsing into the former and holding out the latter to Janus. Fae obligingly fills it, and Virgil leans back in his beanbag, sipping it as Logan sits down.
“So what’re we talking about?” Virgil asks.
“Y’know the other day when…”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Virgil squints at Remy.
“Not to be rude,” Logan begins, but Virgil cuts them off.
“What are you doing here?” He demands.
“Real welcoming, Virgil,” Janus remarks snidely.
“He’s intruding on our thing!”
“Yes, and it’s not like you intruded on our thing only a month ago and we were hospitable, right? You totally have the right to snap at Remy.”
“Shut up.”
“Y’all are gossiping, babes,” Remy says. “Why wouldn’t I be here?”
Virgil opens his mouth to protest automatically, then finds that that’s a fair point. Remy does love gossip. He shuts his mouth reluctantly.
“Welcome to the group, Remy,” Janus declares, overexaggerating faer words and smirking at Virgil. He makes a mocking face back but doesn’t comment, crossing his arms as Janus conjures up a beanbag chair for Remy. The little pest. Now everyone but Virgil has a beanbag chair rather than a plain beanbag; this was absolutely deliberate.
Virgil scowls at Janus and sinks further down into his beanbag, letting the conversation flow around him without paying attention to what’s being said. Whatever; at least his seat isn’t a specific shape and therefore can be squished into a different position or turned upside down and still be the same. See any of them try to do that with their chair-shaped beanbags, only good for one shape and if you wanted to shift positions you had to make do with what you had, instead of adjusting the beanbag.
“Virgil?” Logan asks.
“Wh—yeah?”
“Are you alright?”
Virgil pushes himself more upright and sits on his hands. “Yeah, I’m fine.”
“You sure, babes?” Remy tilts his head down to look over his sunglasses at him.
“Yeah.” Virgil forces a smile. “Just… need to readjust my beanbag.” He stands up and flips it over, squishing it in a few spaces until it’s like he wants. The other three watch him in silence, making the affair at least twice as awkward as it would’ve been if they’d ignored him. Virgil sits back down, face red. “What’re we talking about?”
“These two were telling me about something that happened with Roman yesterday?” Remy says.
“Oh my gosh,” Virgil groans. “Okay, what do you already know?”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This is a crisis, Virgil is having a crisis, a dilemma, a predicament, an emergency; sound the alarms, clang the warning bell, and gather the troops, Virgil has a crush.
This shouldn’t be happening! Not allowed! He’s too emotionally unstable to handle it and will mostly likely make a fool out of himself. Which is also absolutely not allowed.
And! The crush is on Janus, which is yet another not allowed thing. Last Virgil checked, he was still just tolerating faer presence, not getting a crush on faer. That’s just plain rude of his brain, please take it back he doesn’t want it.
He looks up at his ceiling, since that’s as far back as Virgil can roll his eyes without being in pain. Okay, he’s staring his brain down, and he’ll stop having a crush in three, two, one—
He pauses, thinks of Janus, groans. That didn’t work. And to be honest he didn’t really expect it to, but it still? would’ve been nice? if his brain could work with him for once??
Virgil sighs and flops backwards.
Okay, if demanding his brain stop having a crush didn’t work, maybe he can just… avoid faer. Maybe it’s just infatuation or something—doesn’t infatuation happen right after you meet someone? His brain asks. Shut up, he tells it—and if he stays away for a few days it’ll go away. That’s probably it.
He glances over at his minifridge and small hoard of non-perishables and mentally calculates. He’s got enough for about a week, that should be plenty enough time.
Virgil waves his hand and his door locks. There. Now he can just. sit around and avoid thinking about Janus until this crush/infatuation/whatever-it-is goes away.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This is great, Remy is having a great time, get some bells to ring and a rooftop for him to shout off, because Remy has a crush.
To be accurate, he has three: on Janus, Virgil, and Logan. He isn’t exactly sure when they started, only that he just now realized he has them, but he’s definitely not complaining.
He’s also definitely not going to sit around and pine silently for them or something. If he’s going to get rejected, better to get it over with and work on healing than let himself think there might be a chance for however long. (And, yeah, it would definitely hurt, if one or all of them didn’t like him—hurt a lot—but he’s ignoring that part.) And the revelation is giving him an extra burst of confidence (and it’s not like he didn’t already have that in spades) so he’s going to shoot his shot as soon as possible.
His brain decides the most efficient way to confess to the three of them is to wander around the mindscape until he finds them, so he does that until he bumps into Logan.
“Logan,” Remy declares. “I’m gay.”
“Yes,” Logan says, pulling out their flashcards and flipping through a few of them before pulling one out and showing it to him. “‘We been knew’ that, Remy.”
“Nice,” Remy compliments, throwing an arm around their shoulders. “But you see, my dear nerd, I’m gay for you.” He pokes their chest for emphasis.
Logan turns bright red and alternates between wordlessly gaping and stammering so hard Remy can’t make out anything they’re trying to say. They extract themself from Remy’s arm and smooth out their tie, their blush toning down only slightly.
“I… will have to think on this,” Logan says finally, which Remy interprets as Logan for ‘too gay rn; need some time to calm down and consider my feelings’.
“Cool; take all the time you need,” Remy tells them, flashing them a peace sign. “I’m gonna go find Janus and Virgil, see you in a bit.” 
“Alright,” Logan says, and Remy takes that as his cue to wander off in search of his other two crushes.
The next one he runs into is Janus, who he immediately tells “I’m gay.”
“No,” fae snarks. “I thought you were straight.”
Remy gasps and scoffs offendedly (at the same time, because his need to be Dramatic™ at all times overrides any petty things like biology, especially when he’s been teased).
“Well, I was going to say I’m gay for you,” Remy tells faer, pressing a hand to his chest. “But if we’re on such a disconnect I’m just not sure anymore.”
“No, wait!” Janus says. “I’m gay for you too, darling, please.”
Remy immediately decides that any pet names for him are illegal; his face has no right blushing like that just because Janus called him ‘darling’. He covers his face, hoping that’ll hide the blush.
“Fine,” he mutters.
“What was that?” Janus smirks. “I couldn’t hear you through your hands, darling.” Fae gently takes his wrists and pulls his hands down. “There’s your gorgeous face.”
“Rude,” Remy huffs.
“But you’re gay for me anyway,” Janus purrs.
“I regret telling you that.”
“No you don’t.”
“No I don’t,” Remy sighs. “You wanna be boyfriends? Or partners or something, if you don’t want to use ‘boyfriends’?”
“I would love that,” Janus smiles.
“Great, me too.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Logan knocks on Remy’s door.
“Come in!”
Logan walks in, sees Remy and Janus cuddling together, puts two and two together and gets four. Oh, they think, they’re dating.
Logan walks in, sees Remy and Janus cuddling together, and squares the twos instead of adding them. I took too long to answer, they assume. Remy must’ve gotten bored or didn’t want to wait and got with Janus instead.
“Oh,” they say. “My apologies. I’ll leave you two be.” They turn to leave.
“Wait, babes,” Remy says. Logan turns to see him stretching out a hand towards them. “What’d you need?”
“I did not need something, per se,” Logan mumbles. “However, I was going to accept Remy’s implied proposition, though it seems I misinterpreted it.”
“Hon, speak up, I can barely hear you,” Remy tells them. “And use less nerd talk; what I could hear I couldn’t understand.”
Logan sighs. “I interpreted your informing me that you are gay for me as you indirectly asking me to be in a relationship with you, but it seems that was a misstep on my part. If you don’t mind, I’ll be taking my leave now before I embarrass myself further.”
“Wait, why do you think I don’t want to be in a relationship with you?” Remy asks.
“It appears that you are dating Janus?” Logan says. “Did I misinterpret that as well?”
“No, we’re dating, but I wanna date you too,” Remy tells them. “If you don’t like Janus like that you don’t have to date faer, as long as you’re cool with sharing me.”
Logan blushes. “That would be satisfactory.”
“Janus?” Remy looks over to faer.
“I’m fine sharing,” Janus says.
“Actually,” Logan admits, blushing harder. “I feel I should confess that I harbor romantic feelings for you as well, Janus—and Virgil too, while I’m admitting these things—though if you do not wish to be in a romantic relationship with me then I am perfectly content to be metamours with you.”
“I’m certainly not opposed to dating you,” Janus tells them.
“So we’re all dating each other, then?” Remy asks.
“It certainly seems that way,” Logan answers, at the same time Janus says, “Yes.”
“Great.” Remy grins. “Come join the ‘yay I’ve got new boyfriends’ pile, Logan.” He pats the empty patch of bed beside him. Logan wrinkles their nose fondly and sits beside Remy, who pulls them down to sprawl across his stomach and onto Janus’s lap. Logan squawks, and tries to pull themself back up, but Remy pushes them back down, declaring, “No sitting up allowed.”
Logan snorts and looks over to Janus. Fae leans forward to kiss their forehead and then settles back against Remy’s side.
“Traitors, the both of you,” Logan huffs, though they can’t stop the smile spreading across their face as they say it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Remy and Janus are cuddling on Remy’s bed when someone knocks on the door.
“Come in!” Remy calls. Logan walks in, looks at the two of them.
“Oh, my apologies. I’ll leave you two be.” They turn around. Remy stops them and needles them into admitting that Remy had asked them out—the exact same way he had asked Janus out, fae notes—but that was “a misstep on their part” somehow.
“Wait, why do you think I don’t want to be in a relationship with you?” Remy asks.
“It appears you are dating Janus? Did I misinterpret that as well?”
“No, we’re dating, but I want to date you too,” Remy explains. “If you don’t like Janus like that you don’t have to date faer, as long as you’re cool with sharing me.”
And Janus knows he’s just explaining the situation and Logan’s options, but wow, way to let faer have a say in whether or not fae wants to date Logan or share Remy with them. Fae’s fine with both, but that’s not the point.
“That would be satisfactory.” Logan blushes a pretty shade of pink and unkind thoughts who? Janus doesn’t know them.
“Janus?” Remy looks over to faer, silently asking for faer opinion, and that also helps.
“I’m fine sharing,” Janus confirms.
“Actually,” Logan says, blushing harder and it looks like Janus might just have a new favorite color, wow. “I feel I should confess that I harbor romantic feelings for you as well, Janus—and Virgil too, while I’m admitting these things—though if you do not wish to be in a romantic relationship with me then I am perfectly content to be metamours with you.”
“I’m certainly not opposed to dating you.” Janus grins.
“So we’re all dating each other, then?” Remy asks.
“Yes,” Janus says, while Logan answers with, “It certainly seems that way.”
“Great.” Remy grins. Between that smile and Logan’s blush, Janus just might die from gay. “Come join the ‘yay I’ve got two new boyfriends’ pile, Logan.”
Logan wrinkles their nose—how is faer boyfriend so cute—and sits down. Remy pulls them down on both his and faer laps, and he and Logan struggle briefly.
“No sitting up allowed,” Remy declares, and Logan snickers and looks over to Janus, looking a little like they’re trying to ask for help with their eyes. Janus, being the good boyfriend fae is, kisses their forehead.
“Traitors, the both of you,” Logan accuses, smiling.
“You love us, though,” Remy says.
Logan sighs. “I suppose I do.”
“And,” Remy continues. “You said you like Virgil?”
“Yes,” Logan confirms. “Is that a problem for either of you?”
“None here, babes,” Remy says.
“Here either,” Janus adds. Fae kind of fades out the conversation after that, watching Remy and Logan talk and trying not to let faer negative thoughts get the best of faer.
Because fae can’t help but notice how Logan had confessed to Remy before faer. And Remy had asked Logan out before asking faer out.
And Janus knows they both like faer! They’re all in a relationship! Currently cuddling together!
...Still stings, though. (Fae still feels a little like second place.)
“Janus?”
Fae looks up. “Yeah?”
“What do you think of asking Virgil to join our relationship the day after tomorrow when we do our Thing?” Logan asks.
“Sounds good,” Janus says, smile only a little forced. Fae put faer thoughts firmly aside and rejoins the conversation, enjoying the warmth and comfort of faer boyfriends beside and on top of faer.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Logan frowns, tapping their foot anxiously a few times.
“Should we give him another few minutes?” They ask. “It’s already been fifteen.”
“I don’t think he’s coming.” Remy says.
“He’s hidden himself away for a few days before, but he’s never missed our Thing,” Janus points out.
“Yeah.” Remy frowns. “Wonder what’s wrong.”
“Me too,” Logan says.
“You think we should go ask him?” Remy asks.
Logan hums, considering it. If Virgil hadn’t come out for their Thing, whatever was keeping him in his room was serious. “Maybe give him another day or two.”
“Alright.”
Janus grimaces, tapping faer foot rapidly. “Do… do you guys want to do it anyway, even though Virgil’s not here?”
“No,” Logan says immediately, shaking their head.
“Me neither,” Janus sighs, slowing their tapping. 
“Lo, I know you said to leave him alone, but do you think we could still give him a note or something?” Remy asks, frowning. “I’m worried.”
“I am as well,” Logan admits. “And I don’t see why not.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Virgil sighs and pulls his headphones off, unplugging them from his phone. His legs are a little achy, which is probably a sign he’s been sitting for too long and needs to stretch or something.
He wanders over to the pub table he’s got in the corner, thinking that could be a good spot to set his phone while he dances to music (no one’s around to judge him, it’s fun, and it’s a good way to stretch his legs, okay?). 
Out of the corner of his eye, he sees something white on the ground by the door. Crouching down to examine it, it looks like a piece of paper someone folded in half and shoved under the door. Frowning in confusion, he unfolds it.
“Hey, Virgil!” it reads. “It’s been a few days since you emerged from your room and we’re a little worried. Hope you’re alright! Missed you at the Thing today.” It’s signed by Janus, Remy and Logan, though scribbled to the side is the addition, “Apologies for Remy’s poor grammar. I hope you are well. -Logan”
Virgil’s brain latches onto “Missed you at the Thing today.” They’d done it without him? It was their Thing and they’d just excluded him? Had they only noticed he hadn’t left his room because he wasn’t at the Thing? Were they upset he wasn’t there? Like ‘where in the world were you; we had to do the Thing without you’? You aren’t a necessary part of the group, his brain whispers to him, but you bailed on them and they’re mad about it.
Virgil clamps his hands over his ears and plops to the floor. Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up, he tells his mind. They don’t hate me; they gave me a letter to check in with me while respecting that I might not want to come out and not wanting to force me to.
Really? Or maybe they just couldn’t be bothered to do more than shove a note under the door.
Shut up.
Virgil focuses on doing his 4-7-8 breathing method and firmly ignores his mind telling him his friends now hate him. When his breathing is finally steady and his brain’s stopped hissing poison, he slowly relaxes his muscles and takes his hands off his ears.
Your friends are still your friends, he reminds himself. They’re concerned about your wellbeing, not mad at you, and they still like you.
Platonically, his mind adds sourly. Virgil frowns at the thought.
So far his plan to get rid of his crush on Janus had only revealed his crushes on Logan and Remy as well. Turns out when you’re avoiding thinking about one friend you like, your mind will just go to your other two friends and present some shiny new ‘liking them as more than friends’ idea to you. Which is just more incentive to hide in his room as long as he can.
Virgil sighs, standing up and placing the note facedown on the table. He’s got the majority of a week before he has to face anyone, and even if he doesn’t feel like dancing anymore, he’s still got plenty to do to occupy his time.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Logan knocks firmly on Virgil’s door.
“Virgil,” they call. “It has been five days since anyone has seen you outside your room. This has not happened before and we are all concerned. Please come out to ease our worries.”
No answer. They wait a full minute, their fist still half-raised from knocking, but still nothing.
“Move, please,” Remy says, inserting himself in Logan’s place as they step out of the way. He begins knocking loudly and quickly, barely a step down from banging. “Virgil! Get your pretty ass out here!”
No sign Virgil’s heard anything.
“Maybe he’s asleep?” Logan suggests.
“At 4PM?” Janus asks. “Virgil doesn’t nap and even a night owl like him doesn’t sleep in this late.”
Logan frowns. “Virgil is not an owl—”
“It’s an expression,” Remy explains.
“Ah.”
“Virgil,” Janus tries. “We’re all really worried. Please just open the door? You don’t even have to come out, just let us know you’re alright in there.”
They all watch the doorknob hopefully for a minute. When nothing happens, Remy sighs.
“I don’t think he’s comi—”
There’s a little shrsh of paper brushing against something as a post-it slides under the door. Janus snatches it up eagerly and the other two crowd beside faer to read it.
“I’m fine. Not coming out, sorry.”
Remy sighs again.
“At least we know he’s alright?” Logan offers.
“Yeah,” he agrees, leaning against them. “I’m just worried, y’know? Just a post-it doesn’t really help.”
“I do know; I’m worried too. However, there is nothing we can do to get Virgil out of his room, short of forcing our way inside and dragging him, until he’s ready.”
“Yeah,” Remy says again.
“Wanna go cuddle until we all feel a little better?” Janus offers. Remy smiles softly.
“Yeah.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Virgil scowls at his minifridge. It’s empty, the traitor, and he’s run out of all the food in his room. He has to go out and possibly encounter other people. A tragedy.
He leaves his room at midnight, of course. Less chance of running into people, plus then when Roman makes a comment about how “it’s nice to see you’ve finally emerged from your room” Virgil can laugh at his confusion when he tells him he came out of his room a while ago, princey, where’ve you been?
Less chance of running into people doesn’t equal no chance, unfortunately, and Patton is in the kitchen baking cookies when Virgil comes out to raid it. A weird time to be baking, but Virgil will probably get warm cookies out of it, so he doesn’t question it.
“Hey, Pat,” he greets.
“Hey, kiddo! Good to see you.”
“You too,” Virgil says, shooting him a finger gun. “Anything interesting happen while I was in my room?”
Patton hums thoughtfully. “Remus switched the sugar and salt and the flour and powdered sugar this morning. I borrowed the Lilo and Stitch DVD the other day and Roman and Remus got in a fight about whether or not Roman was hiding it from Remus. Logan stayed up all night on Tuesday and collapsed around lunchtime Wednesday. Janus found another snake in the Imagination and Roman had to steal it to return it home. Oh! Logan and Janus and Remy all got together.”
Virgil freezes. “Like, got together and talked like the four of us usually do?”
“Nope! In a relationship. About the time you hid away in your room, actually.” Patton giggles a little. “It’s been really cute; Remy and Janus carried Logan upstairs after his allnighter and they’re all very sweet together.”
“Oh,” Virgil says, trying not to sound hopelessly crushed.
“Virgil?” Patton asks, turning around to look at him. “You okay?”
He forces a smile. “Just peachy.”
Patton snorts. “I doubt that, but I won’t pry if you don’t want to tell me.”
“Thanks,” Virgil says, smile more genuine now. “Anything else to report?”
“Mmm, I don’t think so,” Patton says. “But if you like, I read a really good book the other day and I could share the plot with you?”
“Sounds good,” Virgil tells him, pushing himself up on the counter as Patton launches into a rambly explanation of the storyline. They pause in the middle to pull the cookies out of the oven, and then munch on them as Patton finishes the story.
“...And then it ends on a nice, hopeful, the-future-holds-great-things ending!” Patton concludes.
“Nice,” Virgil says, shooting Patton a little smile, who returns a beaming one. “Thanks for telling me about it.”
“Thanks for listening!” Patton returns.
“Do you mind if I…” Virgil gestures towards the cookies.
“Take as many as you like,” Patton tells him. Leaning forward conspiratorially, he adds, “If you take all of them and someone washes all the dishes, then the others won’t know there were cookies to have in the first place.”
“Thanks, Patton.”
Virgil scoops up the rest of the cookies—about a dozen or so—and bids Patton goodnight before heading back into his room. He gets a little resealable baggie to slide all the cookies into and sets it on his table.
Then, with nothing else to occupy his mind, he dwells over the fact that Janus, Remy, and Logan are all in a relationship.
Patton said they’d gotten together about the time he locked himself in his room. Had they noticed he wasn’t anywhere to be found and immediately gotten together? And then only given him the note and knocked on his door out of a sense of obligation or something? And maybe because they were mad at him for missing the Thing? They wouldn’t do that.
Would they?
He doesn’t think so.
He hopes not.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“What?”
“Hey, Janus, it’s okay! He’s probably just sleeping or something!”
“No, he doesn’t get to come out at midnight after he’s been in his room for a week and then not come out for breakfast or something so the rest of us can know he’s alive!” Janus fumes. Fae marches over to Virgil’s room and bangs on the door. “Open up before I kick the door down!”
Janus gives him three seconds before fae backs up, planning to kick the door down. Fae could do it. Fae’d seen an article online.
“Jay, honey, wait,” Remy says, putting a hand on faer shoulder. “I’m upset too, but I’m not going to kick his door down.”
“No, because I’m going to do it for you.”
“Can we not kick my door down?” Janus turns to see Virgil, standing half in his doorway, but still out of his room. Fae immediately drags him all the way out and into a hug.
“Only if you promise not to do that again,” fae tells him.
“Fine,” Virgil sighs. He half raises his arms, then hesitates.
“Hug me back, dummy,” Janus demands. Virgil chuckles a little and hugs faer. After a bit longer, Janus gives a final squeeze before releasing him, moving back a step and brushing faerself off. “That was because I missed you, but if you breathe a word of that to anyone I’ll prank you for a week.” Fae punches him. “And that was because you worried me, jerk.”
“Ow!” Virgil rubs his arm. “Sorry for worrying you.”
“Try not to sound too sincere now.” Fae crosses faer arms and rolls faer eyes.
“I really am sorry for worrying you,” Virgil says. “All of you,” he adds, looking over to where Remy and Logan had been silently watching their exchange.
“You’re forgiven,” Remy tells him. “If I get a hug too.”
Virgil shrugs loosely. “Sure.” He hugs Remy, then turns to Logan. They open their arms, and Virgil sinks into them. Janus steals another hug from Virgil once he pulls away from Logan.
“Sap,” Virgil teases.
“You can’t prove anything.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Things have… gone back to normal. Technically.
Virgil hasn’t hidden away for longer than a day again, and even then, it only happened once. They’ve kept doing their Thing every week or so, and to the outside observer nothing would appear different than it had been before.
But it’s… kind of like when one “cleans their room” by shoving all their stuff into a closet. The room may appear neat, but things haven’t been put in their place, just pushed to the side to be ignored.
Similarly, there seems to be a barely-there tension in their interactions with Virgil. Logan doesn’t usually notice it, but sometimes, in lulls of conversation or merely at random intervals, they’ll feel it, simmering under the surface of things. They don’t like it, both because tension, as a rule, is uncomfortable, and because they don’t know why it’s there.
They suspect it has something to do with why Virgil locked himself in his room for a week. He still hasn’t told them why he’d done it, shrugging off any questions or deflecting the conversation away from the topic.
They also think it probably has at least a little to do with the fact that Janus, Remy, and themself still have not informed Virgil of their relationship.
Virgil is smart, and very observant. He has almost certainly picked up on the fact that the three of them are dating. He is also the type of person to pretend he doesn’t know something if he feels it is being kept secret from him, and the type to internally question why information is being “withheld” from him, and assume it is something he has done.
Logan knows this, and has been pushing Janus and Remy to tell Virgil about their relationship. Janus and Remy think they should wait longer, give Virgil more time. The first couple of weeks after Virgil emerged from his room, Logan could excuse, because they’d been rediscovering their rhythm. But enough time has passed that they have all settled back into their rhythm and now they need to inform Virgil of their relationship and correct any misconceptions he most likely has over why they have taken so long to tell him.
To return to the bedroom comparison from earlier, Logan has never been one to shove things into a closet and proclaim a room clean. Everything should be put in its place and the only things to go in the closet should be things that belong there.
This weird tension and putting off informing Virgil of their relationship do not go in “the closet.”
So, a month after the week Virgil locked himself in his room, Logan opens the figurative closet door.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“We’re in a relationship,” Logan tells Virgil at one of their Things. Janus and Remy’s gazes both snap over to Logan warningly, but the cat is out of the proverbial bag and this has been a long time coming anyway. “Remy, Janus, and I.”
Virgil stares for a moment.
“Cool,” he says finally. “Congratulations.” And then, since he’s a petty jerk, “Since I locked myself in my room for a bit, right?”
The three of them exchange glances.
“Yes,” Janus tells him.
“How’d you know that, doll?” Remy asks.
“Patton told me.” Virgil half-shrugs. Before he can stop himself, he adds, “Saw your chance and took it, huh?”
Logan blinks. “What do you mean by that?”
“It’s nothing,” Virgil says. If he tells them, they’re going to “correct” him, even if he’s right and they just feel bad about it.
“Um, no, that’s clearly not nothing, hon,” Remy sort of laughs, though his expression is serious. Virgil shrugs again, this time with both shoulders.
“Virgil,” Janus commands. “Tell us.”
Virgil rolls his eyes and tips his head back so he doesn't have to look at them. “I’m just saying, we’re all sort of a group, and you didn’t want to feel awkward with the three of you getting together and me not, so once you noticed I was out of the way, you took the opportunity and asked each other out.”
“No,” Remy corrects, because that is so far from what actually happened it might as well be on the other side of the planet. “That is definitely not what happened, V, dear.”
“Sure,” Virgil agrees, in a way that says he clearly doesn’t believe him but doesn’t want to fight over it.
“You think we, what—saw you locked yourself in your room and decided that was a good chance to exclude you?” Logan asks incredulously.
Virgil snaps and points at them. “That would be what happened.”
“That’s not what happened,” Logan insists.
“Look,” Virgil says, tilting his head up to look at the three of them. “You don’t have to lie to me to be nice or spare my feelings or whatever. I get it.”
“I don’t think you do,” Janus tells him.
“Then explain it to me.”
“I realized how gay I was,” Remy explains. “Ran into Jan and Lo, asked them out, and we all got together. We decided to ask you at the next one of these Things we had, since that was the next time we were guaranteed to all be together alone. When you didn’t show up, we got worried but wanted to give you space, so we mostly left you be until Patton told us you’d come out and then we pulled you out of your room because we figured you were ready enough to come out.”
“And then, what, you just chose not to tell me you guys were dating for a month?” Virgil asks.
“We were trying to find a good time,” Logan tells him.
“It’s been a month; there’s been plenty of time,” Virgil snaps.
Then he stops, tilts his head to the side.
“Wait…” he says slowly. “Did— Did you say ‘ask me’? Like, ask me out?”
“Yeah, duh,” Remy replies.
“You guys like me?”
“I doubt we would hang out with you every week if we disliked you, Virgil.” Janus rolls faer eyes.
“You guys like me romantically?” Virgil amends.
“Yes.”
“Yeah.”
“Duh.”
Virgil curls himself up, burying his head in his knees as he processes this. Remy gently lays a hand on his knee.
“It’s okay if you don’t like us back, or only like one or two of us, hon,” Remy tells him. “But we’d like you to join our relationship, if you’ll have us.”
The knee starts trembling under his hand, and Remy realizes Virgil’s crying. “Oh, hon…” He gathers him up in a hug.
“I—I thought you were avoiding telling me because you didn’t want me to know,” Virgil stammers through his tears. “I thought you’d noticed I left and saw that as your chance to get together without me being around. I thought— I thought—” He starts crying too hard to talk.
Remy holds him, and Janus and Logan move over to them and help whisper assurances that no, they would never, that they love him so much and they’re so sorry it came to this. Their hands on his knee and back and Remy’s arms around him are bright spots of warmth that Virgil relishes.
He cries until he thinks he can’t, until one of them murmurs, “We’re here; we love you,” and sends him to fresh tears. He cries for an hour, at least, and when he’s truly sobbed out all the hurt over this inside him, the other three are still there with him.
“Sorry,” Virgil whispers, not fully trusting his voice.
Logan frowns. “What for?”
He gestures a little to the huddle they’re in. “Messing up this. Crying on you guys for like an hour.”
“You haven’t messed up anything,” Remy assures him. “And we’re happy to let you cry on us all you want.”
“Better than shoving your emotions down and ignoring them as they fester,” Janus adds.
“Yeah, I guess.” Virgil nods and scrubs at his face. “Thanks.”
“You’re very welcome,” Logan says.
“This might be a bad time,” Remy says, “and feel free to tell me off if it is, but does this mean you want to be our boyfriend?”
Virgil laughs, a little wetly. “Yeah. I’d really like that.”
“Good,” Remy says. “We would, too.”
“Celebratory ‘we gained a boyfriend’ cuddles,” Janus declares, pulling them over to the bed. No one resists, and they cuddle until they fall asleep on each other.
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ughseoks · 4 years
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arcades after dark | myg
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— pairing; yoongi x reader
— genre; fluff, friends to lovers au
— words count; 1.6k
— warnings; none, just lots of fluff!
— summary; you and yoongi had been best friends since the day you were born, nothing more. but when you sneak off to an arcade together in the middle of the night, sparks begin to fly.
— masterlist —
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Knock knock knock.
“Yoongles, you in there?” you called through the door, leaning up to squint into the peephole. All you could see was… well, nothing. You were looking in from the wrong side, after all.
“Y/N?” Yoongi swung open the door with a soft smile, the sudden open space beneath your palms almost causing you to fall forwards into his chest, “You know you can’t see into a peephole from the outside of the door, right…?”
You waved your hand in front of your face dismissively before grabbing his hand, “Yeah, yeah, whatever. We’re going to the arcade!” The hand enveloping yours was warm and soft, sending chills up your spine as you gave it a soft tug and tried to pull him out of the doorway.
“Wait, wait-” he planted his feet and held onto you prevent you from walking any further, causing you to shoot him an annoyed look, “Aren’t you the one who always tells me that it’s dangerous to roam around the hotel at night?”
“Well, I guess I’ve changed my ways,” you pulled on his hand again and started to walk down the hallway, gripping harder when he still didn’t move, “Now come on, let’s go before we get caught! We need to live life while we’re still young, Yoongi. Besides, who’s gonna be in the arcade at this time of the night? Nobody will see us.”
Sighing, Yoongi relented and followed you down the hallway and into the elevator. “So, is everybody else gonna be there too, or…” he broke the silence as you pressed the lobby button and stepped back from the panel of buttons. A blush crept up his neck as he stared off into space, refusing to make eye contact with you.
“Nah, just us,” you shrugged, “I didn’t think any of the others would wanna go with me at this hour. They’re probably either asleep or watching Netflix by now.”
That wasn’t a lie, but it also wasn’t the only motivating force behind your decision. You and Yoongi had been best friends since the day you were born, and you knew everything about each other. Whether it be his habit of stealing the other boys’ food from the dorm fridge or your hidden love for Tom Holland, it was laid out for the other to see without hesitation. Secrets didn’t exist between the two of you; any sort of personal information was fair game, and you never felt the need to conceal what was bothering you if you were upset.
However, there was one secret you just couldn’t let loose. Yes, you and Yoongi were best friends, but recently, you’d started to view him as… more… than just a friend. Every little touch sent your heart soaring, and every shared look caused your stomach to fill with butterflies. Even thinking about it now, you could feel your throat begin to tighten and your mouth begin to twitch with a hint of an embarrassed smile.
Ding!
The elevator doors opened, effectively ending your daydreams. Taking a step out into the hallway, Yoongi gave you an encouraging glance, beckoning you to follow. The two of you silently navigated the dark hallways until you finally stumbled upon the clear glass door with the word “ARCADE” printed in bold, bright font across the top. Giving him a thumbs up, you pushed open the door, running across the oddly patterned floor as soon as you set foot in the room.
Yoongi watched you from the entrance as the door silently closed behind him, chuckling as you jumped between the colored squares on the ground. After a minute or two of bunny-hopping and elementary school level shenanigans, you finally skidded to a stop in front of the skee-ball machines.
“Bet I can beat you!” you challenged him with a quirked brow, pressing the “start” button on the one directly in front of you after you slid your room card through the reader.
“Oh yeah?” he swiped his own card and hit the start button on the machine in front of him, “You’re so on.”
And so the night went on, the two of you playing game after game under the glowing neon lights of the arcade. It was nice, just the two of you getting to spend time together. Since he was a worldwide famous superstar, quality time between you two was scarce. It seemed like the only time you got to hang out alone was late at night after his practices, and even then, you only got a few minutes together. Most of the time, you were forced to bond over a late night facetime or in a group with the rest of Bangtan, and as much as you loved them all, you’d missed being with Yoongi alone. So, needless to say, you were enjoying your much-needed best friend date.
Glancing at your watch, you noted the time. 1:03am. “I guess we’d better get to bed soon,” you grumbled, angry that time had managed to fly by so fast. It always did when you were with Yoongi. “Did we get to play every game?”
“Every game but one,” he smirked, pointing to the dance game in the center of the room. Stepping onto one of the two platforms, you began to “stretch” while Yoongi scrolled through the song options on the screen in front of you.
“Ohh!! I love this song!” he cheered, immediately pressing it and stepping back onto the platform.
“Of course you do. It’s your song,” you rolled your eyes as the upbeat song began to play, the arrows beginning to move faster and faster on the screen until they were passing so quickly you could barely tell what direction they were pointing anymore.
“Jesus, Yoongi, what difficulty did you set this to?” you panted, moving your feet as quickly as you could make them go. At this point, you were stomping like a madman; any sort of technique had been thrown out the window a long time ago. Glancing to your right, you could see that Yoongi was struggling just as much, if not more, than you were.
“I don’t remember, Y/N,” he struggled for breath and a bead of sweat dripped down his forehead, “I think... expert mode?”
You grumbled in response, shaking your head. Just as you were about to make some sort of sly remark along the lines of ‘aren’t you supposed to be a trained dancer?’, you tripped over your own clumsy feet, stumbling across the platform. As you tried to regain your balance, you managed to grab onto Yoongi, your hands clutching his shoulders as your body rammed into his. He let out a noise of surprise as you lost your balance together, crashing onto the floor with a loud thump. You groaned in embarrassment, not even noticing that he’d fallen right on top of you, one hand on the floor and the other holding your head gently so it didn’t hit the floor.
“That was awfully smooth, Min Yoongi-” you began to speak, but when you looked up into his eyes, you froze. He was staring at you, the lights of the arcade reflecting in his chocolate colored eyes. His cheeks began to tinge red as he continued to gaze at you, awed by your beauty. Your hair was splayed behind your head, the neon lights casting a soft light across your face.
“Yoongles?” you whispered, almost too quiet for him to hear. His eyes flickered down to your lips and back up a few times before he slowly moved down, closing the gap between you. You leaned forward slightly to meet him in the middle, your lips pressing against each others softly; his hand was threaded in your hair, helping hold your head up before he pulled away reluctantly.
“Wow,” he said, causing you to giggle slightly, “I’m starting to think it was a pretty good idea to come down here after all.”
“Oh, shut up,” you teased, “It was a great idea from the start.” You took a deep breath before gathering up your courage, finally spilling the secret you’d been dying to tell. “Yoongi, I, uh… I like you. Like, a lot.”
“Like me?” he widened his eyes in false surprise, “I never would’ve guessed, especially since you just kissed me.”
You blushed and slapped his arm lightly as he laughed, “I kissed you? I’m pretty sure it was the other way around, Min.”
“Hmm…” he pretended to consider what you said, “No, I’m pretty sure that you kissed me. I was there, after all-”
You cut him off by kissing him again, smiling against his lips before pulling away once more. “If I’m the one who kissed you first, then that means you’re the one who kissed me just now.”
“You know what?” he stood up from on top of you, holding out a hand for you to take, “I don’t think who initiated the kiss is important, as long as I get to kiss you.”
“It’s a good thing you’re cute, lil’ meow meow,” you winked and took his hand, gripping it tightly as he pulled you off of the floor..
“Oh, so I’m cute now?” A pout sat on his lips as he reacted to the nickname you’d given him, but a glint of mischief sparkled in his eyes.
“Don’t make me take it back,” you grinned and wrapped your arms around his waist, “Let’s head back up. I’m too tired for your antics.”
“Fair enough.” He pressed a kiss to your temple, and you swore the feeling of his soft lips on your skin would be seared into your mind for the rest of the night.
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a/n; thanks for reading! i would die for soft yoongi, and my heart was uwuing the entire time i wrote this.
✩ masterlist ✩
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© ughseoks 2020, all rights reserved. do NOT modify, translate, or repost my works. modification, translations, and/or redistribution of my works on any platform is strictly prohibited.
191 notes · View notes
ceealaina · 3 years
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Title: Man on the Run Collaborator Name: ceealaina Card: 4008 Link: AO3 Square Filled: R4 - Old Team Ship: Background Pepper/Nat, Background IronHusbands Rating: Teen Major Tags: Fluff and Humour, Team as Family, Post-Endgame, Fix-It Summary: Saving the world is important. But Tony really, really just wants to retire and spend time with his family. And if faking his death is the only way to do that, that's how it goes sometimes. Word Count: 1115
Everyone stood out on the property of the Stark Cabin, staring out at the water as they watched the wreath of flowers with the first arc reactor, the ‘proof that Tony has a heart’ disappear into the distance. Nobody spoke, hardly anyone even breathed, not wanting to address what was happening. 
And then Steve sighed. 
“This is stupid, Tony,” he announced loudly, breaking the strange hush. He looked directly at the man standing over by the tree, wearing a cowboy hat and Clark Kent glasses. His normally immaculate beard was filled in unevenly with what appeared to be magic marker, simulating thick, bushy sideburns that came to a point on his chin. “I can see you.” 
“Nope,” Tony intoned, not even looking over at him. “I’m dead.” 
In front of Steve, wearing sunglasses and holding a to-go cup of coffee, Jim Rhodes nodded. “Super dead,” he agreed.
“There, there, Colonel,” Tony called over to him. “I know Mr. Stark’s death was a particularly tragic loss for you.” 
“Love of my life. Gone too soon,” Rhodey deadpanned. “And that’s Dr. Stark, thank you.” 
Behind the ridiculous marker moustache, Steve caught Tony’s lips twitching up into a pleased grin. He sighed again, wondering if, in fact, he had died, and now he was in hell. 
Steve had tried to appeal to Pepper beforehand. He got the point Tony was making; retirement hadn’t worked, the only way he was getting out of the superhero business and spending time with his daughter was if he “died” before it actually killed him. And maybe he shouldn’t have been surprised, considering Tony’s flare for the dramatic, but an entire funeral felt ridiculous to him. It wasn’t as though they didn’t all know that Tony was alive, and standing there, and that his “disguise” had been drawn on my Morgan -- the fact that she was sporting matching magic marker facial hair was a dead giveaway. 
Pepper, however, had ignored Steve’s attempts at reason. Instead she looked back at him in that way that simultaneously terrified him and turned him on a little, and said, “How dare you, Captain. I’m a widow.” 
And then, because apparently drama ran in the Iron Family, she’d shown up at Tony’s “funeral” in full black mourning wear, complete with a veil covering her face. Steve glanced over at her, standing on his far side, next to Nat. 
“I still can’t believe you’re onboard with this,” he grumbled. “I thought you were supposed to be the sensible one!” 
Pepper gave an unconcerned shrug, twining her fingers with Nat’s. “I’ve been saying being a hero would kill him for a decade. Did you expect me to pass up the opportunity to be right?” 
Tony made a show of shuddering at that, hissing through his teeth. “Good thing I’m -- he’s -- already dead, ‘cause that burn would have cremated me -- him -- alive.” 
Steve just rolled his eyes as Rhodey snickered, he and Tony sharing an air high five from three feet away. “I hate you all,” he grumbled. 
Bucky gave him a pat on the back then, something that was probably supposed to seem comforting, but felt more like he was making fun of him. “I don’t really think you’re in a place to be calling anyone out, pal,” he pointed out. “You missed Pepper and Nat’s wedding.” 
Steve groaned for what felt like the millionth time that day. “I thought that was a joke!”
He really had. The invitation had arrived only a day after he’d come back from returning the Infinity Stones with Nat in tow. He hadn’t even known they were together; how was he supposed to know they were actually getting married? It wasn’t until the next day that he’d found out that not only had it not been a joke, but that everyone had been there -- including the recently deceased Tony. Thor had married them because, as Nat had told Steve later, “Married under god, married by a god. It’s like world peace.” Steve had no idea what that meant. 
(Bucky, apparently, had taken Sam. He’d found the whole thing delightful.) 
“Rude,” Nat told him noq, standing on tiptoe to give Pepper a quick kiss. “I know it was fast, but missed opportunities and all that.” 
Pepper gave her new wife a besotted smile, sweet enough to make even Steve calm down a little. And then she ruined it with, “Besides, with Tony’s death, it was better to get remarried ASAP. Helps with the inheritance and stocks issues.” 
Steve was pretty sure that wasn’t even right, but he wasn’t going to waste time arguing.
***
Later, when the service was finished and they’d moved inside for the reception, which had rapidly devolved into a party, Steve couldn’t seem to stop himself from watching Tony. He watched as he passed Morgan off to Happy, giving her a long, long hug before she headed off for her nap. He watched the quiet moment he shared with Pepper, the less quiet kiss that he shared with Rhodey, the way he comforted Peter when he caught him crying in the corner because, “I know it’s not real, Mr. Stark, but it could be.” 
He lost him after that, drawn into a debate between Sam and Bucky over the difference between lox and smoked salmon. After that he ducked out onto the porch for a breath of fresh air, and then suddenly Tony was at his elbow, Steve’s super serum reflexes the only thing keeping him from jumping out of his skin -- not that he was going to tell him that.
“You alright, Cap?” he asked, and he was laughing but there was something softer around his eyes now. Steve noticed the way he rubbed at his right arm, full mobility not yet returned. “You’re seeming a little off, and I know this level of shenanigans isn’t your usual scene.” 
“No, I'm fine,” he insisted, trying to play it off. But maybe Peter had something, because the next moment he was grabbing Tony’s arm -- his good one -- to keep him from walking away. “I’m just really glad you’re here, Tony.” 
Tony grinned, but he settled his other hand over Steve’s, rubbing against his skin in the way Steve imagined he might soothe Morgan after a nightmare. “Me too,” he told him, honestly. “But don’t worry, Cap. Fake funeral aside, I’m not going anywhere any time soon.” He looked at him seriously for a long moment, and then broke out into a bright grin. “Besides. I know you’re not Captain America anymore, and I know I’m technically dead now, but I’m still available for consulting.” He grinned wide, offering Steve a wink. “My office hours are between eight and five every other Thursday.” 
@tonystarkbingo
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Meant To Be Yours (Stetstons/ Schoolteachers Verse Stony)
A commission for @iam93percentstardust who wanted to see the Stony bonding scene from our Western ABO Verse, STETSONS AND SCHOOLTEACHERS. This chapter takes place immediately before the epilogue of Chapter 23 (last chapter of the original fic, before I added bonus chapters!) and is smexy and sweet and all that tooth rotting Stony fluff we love. 
SAS MASTERLIST HERE
Enjoy! (and thank you @iam93percentstardust for helping fund my birthday shenanigans!)
***************
There wasn’t an Omega alive who didn’t get a little weak kneed and starry eyed when an Alpha carried them, and Tony was no exception.
On a normal day, he might have scoffed over the unnecessary show of strength, he might have even jabbed the Alpha in the side and teased him about overcompensating for something that was perhaps inadequate. In fact, on a normal day Tony might have wriggled out of Steve’s arms all together and just walked himself up the stairs, knowing damn well the Sheriff would be drooling over the way his black pants hugged his rear and legs.
But today was not a normal day. Today Tony was going into heat for the first time in over a year and since he and Steve had been waiting and waiting and waiting to bond, today was a day Tony had been looking forward to for months now.
So when the Alpha scooped Tony into his arms and marched up the stairs with a determined little grin and a possessive light in his blue eyes, Tony did what any Omega would do—
— he clenched his thighs together over an unexpected rush of need and whined high in his throat, fingers digging into Steve shoulders as he held on for dear life.
“Omega.” Steve groaned and Tony’s head fell back helplessly, the Sheriff’s Stetson just barely staying on his curls. “Omega, I know.”
The door to the apartment above the schoolhouse kicked open hard enough to send it bouncing off the wall behind and Tony opened his mouth to complain about dents and chastise the Sheriff for being so rough, but all that came out was an embarrassingly desperate gasp when the door slammed shut just as hard and he was sat rather abruptly on his feet, six feet plus of Alpha looming over him.
“Oh.” Tony panted, one hand at his head to keep Steve’s Stetson steady, the other clenched into a fist at his side. “My oh my, Sh-Sheriff. Something on your mind?”
“I know you’re not in full heat yet.” Steve’s beautifully blue eyes were slipping darker red with every passing second. “But I can smell you, Omega and you smell so sweet—“
Tony ack!ed a little when the Alpha was suddenly on him, one of Steve’s arms going like steel around Tony’s waist and the other hand landing firm and solid at the back of his neck to hold the Omega steady as the Alpha scented his fill.
Steve gasped into Tony’s ear, dragged in deep, open mouthed inhales along his throat and when the Alpha’s teeth landed over the unmarked bonding spot, Tony keened in pleasure, going so far as to stand on his toes and bare his throat for more. 
“Omega.” The world rumbled through the Alphas chest, low and hoarse and greedy. “Mine.”
“...yours.” Tony closed his eyes tight and nodded. “I’m yours, Alpha.”
“Mine.” Steve almost snarled it that time. “Let me touch you.”
“Oh!” Tony jumped when the Sherrif’s big hand landed square on his rear and squeezed. “Oh oh oh yes—“
He wasn’t in full heat yet so Tony wasn’t open and loose like he’d be later that day, he wasn’t dripping slick or out of his mind with lust or gagging for a know, but it was still intoxicating to have a near rut Alpha rubbing on him, clutching at his body and muttering wonderfully possessive things into his ear. 
“Yes….” he breathed as Steve’s teeth latched on over his pulse and pulled, worrying at the clear skin until a bruise bloomed first red and then darkened to purple beneath the pressure. “Alpha Alpha Yes.”
“Tony.” Sweetly, almost unsteadily as if Steve was fighting every one of his baser instincts so he could be gentle with his soon to be mate. “Tony, sweetheart let me touch you. Can I touch you?” 
Pants tearing was not allowed— in another few hours Tony would probably be tearing them off himself, but for right now? Tearing pants was not allowed, so Steve quickly but carefully worked Tony’s trousers down to his ankles and helped the Omega step free of the fabric. 
As always, Tony was wearing one of those pretty pairs of panties he ordered through Natasha’s catalogues, this particular pair soft pink and ruffled at the legs and even though the Alpha side of Steve wanted to shred the lace and satin and scatter it around the floor-- 
--or better yet,  wave it out the window so the entire world knew that he was taking a mate, the side of the Sheriff that was barely holding onto rational knew Tony wasn’t quite ready for that sort of thing.
No, first his mate needed to be sloppy wet and writhing with arousal, needed to be slicking clear down his thighs with those dark eyes glazed over with pleasure and Steve knew exactly how to do that.
“C’mere.” He ordered roughly and something wonderful blossomed in his chest when Tony came immediately, no sass, no snark, no pretty teasing protests. The Omega stepped right into Steve’s space and the Alpha bent to crush their mouths together, knocking the Stetson hat aside and to the floor so he could tug and pull at Tony’s hair. 
Kissing Tony was like kissing an inferno, the Omegas body searing hot and his mouth melting warm and Steve shoved his tongue past pliant lips at the same time he shoved a hand down the back of Tony’s lacy panties, more than ready to be filling both ends of his mate. The Omegas startled moan was muffled as the kiss turned slid deeper, messier and Tony bent backwards into a graceful arch to make it easier for the Sheriff to reach further down to where he was wet. 
“Mmmm sweetheart.” Steve groaned into the kiss then shifted forward so he could hike his little mate up onto his thigh and grind right into him. Tony gasped over the unexpected, welcome pressure and rutted against Steve for a few gorgeous seconds, rolling his hips and whining when he could already feel the Alpha swelling, thickening as the daze of near heat got stronger in the small apartment.
“Yeah, baby c’mere--” Steve reached further down the panties until he could circle Tony’s sopping rim with his finger, and when Tony blurted a frantic, “Steve Steve Steve yes---” the Alpha plunged the digit into the Omega’s body. 
Tony wasn’t in full heat yet but this was still his Alpha clutching at him, grabbing at his waist and thrusting thick fingers into his core to press where he was most sensitive, it was still his Alpha surging forward to close his teeth at the base of Tony’s neck and bite down hard enough to make the Omega scream and it was his Alpha practically vibrating through a possessive, “Omega. Tony. Mine.” 
Tony couldn’t do much more than shatter apart in his Alpha’s arms, dig his nails into Steve’s shoulder, toss his head back and wail as the rut scent from the Sheriff drove him right to his peak and over within a few minutes. 
Steve stroked Tony through each shudder and gasp, pulled his fingers free and shoved them in his mouth to taste his Omega, held him tight and crooned comforting things into his ear and when Tony finally came down enough to attempt a shaky, self deprecating laugh, Steve shook his head and whispered, “No, Omega. That was beautiful, you are beautiful. Don’t laugh Tony, that was the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen.” 
“Gonna be an easy heat for you, hm?” Tony tucked his forehead into Steve’s chest and knotted his fingers in the Sheriff’s shirt as he tried to calm the shivers traveling up and down his body, his breath still coming choppy and uneven  “Won’t have to try at all to please me. Easy.”
Tony sounded… well he sounded angry and Steve pulled away to cup the Omega’s chin, not letting up until Tony finally met his eyes. 
“Tony, what’s wrong?” Steve leaned in to check the Omega’s scent and wrinkled his nose when he caught the acidic taste of disappointment. “Honey, did I do something wrong? This is our first heat together so you gotta tell me how I’m doing. I thought that was amazing, was it not as good for you?” 
“It’s not you.” Tony tried to look away but the Alpha held his gaze. “It’s um--” he wet his lips anxiously. “--It’s stupid, is what it is.” 
“Talk to me.” Steve slid one hand into Tony’s hair and tugged at the soft curls. “Sweetheart, tell me what’s going on. I want this to be more than adequate.” he tried to coax a smile from his soon to be mate. “I want to make sure the teacher gives me better than a passing grade. Talk to me.” 
Tony swallowed and didn’t answer, and Steve reminded him, “No more secrets, Tony. I thought we’d had enough of that sort of thing. No more secrets.”
“It’s Sunset.” Tony’s eyes snapped shut when the Sheriff instinctively growled hearing another Alpha’s name. Steve growled every time he heard Sunset’s name, but it seemed worse right now when Tony had only barely come down from his pleasure and Steve’s fingers were still wet from the Omega’s core. 
Oh it seemed so much worse right now.
“What about Sunset?” Steve worked to keep the censure from his voice, not wanting the Omega to think he was angry over their moment being cut abruptly short. “What is it, honey?” 
“I’m sorry.” Tony said first, and this time when he tried to look away, Steve let him go but put an arm back around Tony’s waist to keep him from going too far. “She used to laugh at how easy I was to deal with during my heat. Told her exactly what I needed and it didn’t take much work at all. She used to thank me for not being high maintenance and I used to think--” 
Steve stiffened as if he knew what was coming and Tony cringed. “--I used to think she meant it as a compliment, like I was a good Omega for being easy to please. But eventually I realized she was thanking me for not taking up more of her time, for not disrupting her life with my heat. I thought Alpha’s were supposed to love being part of heat, not resent it because it takes a few days.” 
“Tony.” Steve closed his eyes so Tony wouldn’t see them flicker red in anger. “Honey, I’m sorry.” 
“I am too.” Tony’s smile fell flat and he pushed back against Steve’s arm as if he wanted the Alpha to let him go. “Sorry for ruining this. I thought I was done having boundaries and rules and whatever influence Sunset left in my life but as it turns out--” 
“--as it turns out, I’m exactly the sort of Alpha that would be thrilled to be part of your heat.” Steve interrupted and pulled Tony back up against his body with minimal effort. “Tony listen. First of all, nothing is ruined. We walked in here, I shoved my hand down your pants and then got to make you come just from my fingers and you rubbin’ off on my leg.” 
Tony tried and failed to hide a tiny, satisfied smile and Steve trilled encouragingly. “How the hell is that ruined, baby? What part of that doesn’t sound like I just had the time of my life?” 
“If you put it that way…” Tony shrugged. “It doesn’t sound so terrible.” 
“Not terrible.” Steve pressed his thumb over Tony’s bonding spot, just lightly over the scarred skin where the Omega had tried to remove Sunset’s now faded bite mark. “And Tony, believe me. I want to be here for every minute of your heat, whether it takes me an hour to get you satisfied and stuck on my knot each time, or if I only have to growl in your ear and you’re finished, alright?” 
“I’m not that easy.” Tony jabbed at the Alpha’s side and Steve oophed theatrically. “I promise it will take more than a growl.” 
“Even if it doesn’t take more than a growl.” Steve sobered again and lay a featherlight kiss onto Tony’s cheek and then up onto the Omega’s forehead. “It doesn’t matter. I will be here for every minute, gladly giving up all the time you need for your heat and then all the extra time it will take me to be ready to let you out of my arms and off the bed. I don’t care if it’s one day, I don’t care if it’s a week and a half. I’ll be here baby, humbled and honored and shocked haf’ta hell that a pretty Omega like you is settling for a rowdy Sheriff like myself as mate.” 
“Oh I dunno.” Tony peeked up from beneath his lashes and offered his Alpha a tremulous smile. “The ten gallon hat took some getting used to, but you aren’t half as rowdy as those unscrupulous deputies you employ.” 
“Bucky?” 
“Sam and Clint.” Tony countered and Steve laughed, “Oh yeah, those two are pretty unscrupulous.” 
That finally got a real smile from the Omega and Steve sighed in relief. “Do you trust me, Tony?” 
“You know I do, Sheriff.” Tony said automatically. “You know I trust you.” 
“Then trust me with this.” Steve brushed his knuckles over Tony’s cheek and lifted the Omega’s lips to his own for a chaste kiss. “You tell me what you want and I’m gonna do it. You tell me what you need and I’m gonna get it for you. I’ll give you everything, Omega. Anything and everything. I love you.” 
“...I love you too.” Tony stood on his toes to chase the kiss and sighed when Steve nuzzled into the soft spot behind his ear. “I’m going to be a brat, though. Needy. Bossy. Demanding. Are you prepared, Sheriff Rogers?” 
Steve laughed out loud, his broad shoulders shaking as he pulled Tony into a long hug. “Oh, I’m looking forward to it, Mr. Carbonell.”
******************
******************
Tony wanted a bath first, reminding Steve, “You didn’t give me time to get my panties off and now they are very uncomfortable.” 
“I’d say I was sorry about that, but I’m too honest a Sheriff to lie.” Steve went to his knees to help Tony out of the soaked drawers and looked up with a knowing grin when the Omega bit back a helpless whimper. “You like me on my knees, Omega?” 
“I’d say no but school teachers aren’t supposed to lie either.” Tony snipped and Steve’s grin spread even wider. “Don’t look so pleased with yourself, Alpha. Any Omega would cream over a big Alpha on their knees. It’s simple power dynamics and since Omega’s are usually on the powerless side of the spectrum, it’s a nice change.” 
“Simple power dynamics.” Steve repeated, sitting up into a crouch so he could drag his mouth up the inside of Tony’s thigh, up further to lick at the crease where leg met hip, then over to drag his nose along Tony’s softened cock and under to breathe deep of the scent of pure Omega. “That why you’re creaming for me, Tony?” 
Whatever sassy reply Tony was no doubt in the process of formulating came at as nothing more than a stutter when Steve pushed the Omega’s legs further apart so he could lap at the sensitive skin. “St-Steve--” 
“You didn’t answer my question.” Steve got a big hand beneath Tony’s thigh and lifted the Omega’s knee up and over his shoulder to make more room for his broad frame between Tony’s leg. Then it was only a matter of tipping his head just right, encouraging the Omega to lift his hips a tiny bit, and Steve was free to seal his mouth over Tony’s entrance, shove his tongue past the clenching rim and in to lap up the unfiltered drench of his mate. 
“Steve.” Tony’s knees buckled and he fell into the Alpha’s shoulder, scrabbling uselessly at Steve’s back to try and keep his balance. “Oh my god--” 
“Got you.” Steve promised, supporting the Omega’s slight weight without having to try. “Tony, I got you, m’not letting you go baby.” 
“Oh.” Tony crumbled a little further, trusting the Alpha not to drop him and closing his eyes tight. “Thank you.” 
“Yeah, sweetheart, C’mon and let go for me.” Steve couldn’t quite reach deep enough from this angle, not without Tony braced against a wall or on the bed, but that didn’t stop the Sheriff from licking and tasting and curling his tongue every which way he could until Tony was trembling and the Alpha’s face was covered.
“Alpha, I can’t--” Tony whined anxiously when his body tried to react but couldn’t quite manage the effort for another round so soon. “It’s too early--” 
“You don’t gotta come for me Tony.” Steve mumbled, shuddering when the Omega clenched around him. “Just want to get you on my tongue, sweetheart. You always taste so good but this close to heat, I think I could get drunk on you.” 
“But what about--” a tremor racked Tony’s lean frame when Steve dug blunt nails into the curve of his rear and yanked him even closer. “Oh f-fuck what about-- about you? Don’t you want to finish?” 
“Tony.” Steve finally leaned away, keeping Tony balanced with one hand and using the other to wipe the glisten off his face, and then licking it from his palm with a low groan. “Omega, if we didn’t need to be knotted for a bond to take, I’d stay here on my knees and suck every bit of slick from you til I was drowning. I’d make you come till you were wrung dry and I don’t care if you finish in my hand, or on my body... hell, Tony you might end up coming in my hair cos I can’t get my face outta your sweet hole--” 
“Sheriff!” Tony’s voice pitched high and frankly hilarious in shock. “What has gotten in to you!?” 
“You’re mine, Tony.” Steve wasn’t fazed by Tony’s shock, nor did he seem to notice or care that Tony’s leg was still up and over his shoulder, the Omega’s most intimate places bared open and eye level. “You’re mine and I want to be covered in you, just like I hope you want to be covered in me.” 
Tony’s eyes were very wide and maybe even a little vulnerable and Steve softened the urge to growl the next words, “I wanna be everything for you, Omega. Everything.” 
“You’re already everything.” Tony swallowed and ran his fingers through Steve’s blond hair, trilling sweetly when the Alpha tipped back into the touch. “You’re enough for me, Alpha. Everything for me.” 
The Sheriff turned his head and lay the most gentle kiss he could manage on the inside of Tony’s thigh, hiding his near sappy smile at the Omega’s words. You still want that bath, sweetheart.”
“I think you need it as much as I do.” Tony couldn’t help smirking as he motioned to the sheen still on the edges of Steve’s face. “Do you want to join me?” 
“Any other time, I’d jump at the chance to get you naked and in a bath.” Steve stood up to his full height and rolled his shoulders so they wouldn’t be sore after being crouched in so awkward a position. “But I want to spend some time getting the apartment ready and I want to make sure you take as much time as you need.” 
hH brushed a curl from Tony’s forehead and followed it with a dotted kiss. “This is your first heat in a while and we don’t know how hard it will hit. I want you as relaxed as possible, alright? Soap up a few times, sit until the water gets cold-- all of that.” 
“Are you giving me orders, Sheriff Rogers?” Tony raised his eyebrows. “Is this how you talk to your Deputies?” 
“Mr. Carbonell.” Steve worked at the buttons of Tony’s shirt until it fell open and he could push it off the Omega’s arms and onto the floor. “I can promise I have never ordered my Deputies to disrobe and take a bath before we share a heat together. I’m sure Sam would rip my throat out for suggesting such a thing to his Omega and I feel like Clint would laugh in my face and then throw a vase at me.” 
“I feel like he would too.” Purely out of habit, Tony’s hand went to cover the scars over his chest, and also out of habit, Steve knocked his hand away and covered the scars with his own palm, tender and protective. “Thank you, Alpha.” 
“For getting you naked?” 
“Yes.” Tony rolled his eyes hard enough to give himself a headache. “Yes, thank you for getting me naked.” 
“Anytime.” Steve leaned in and kissed Tony for a long moment, rubbing gentle circles over the scarred skin. “I’ll start a bath, sweetheart. Go find your fluffiest towels and favorite soap.” 
“Yes, Sheriff.” Tony turned on his heel, then sent the Alpha a saucy wink and bent at the waist to pick up the previously discarded Stetson, grinning at the noise the Sheriff made over the view. “Dropped your hat, real sorry about that.” 
“Yep.” Steve looked like a man half starved as he took the hat from his Omega, shifting on his feet as his trousers got visibly uncomfortable. “Real uh… real sorry. A damn shame, dropping a man’s Stetson like that.” 
Tony scrunched his nose happily when he saw how obviously affected the Alpha was, and turned to sashay his way towards the linen closet for a towel and fresh soap. 
Steve watched him go for a minute, unable to tear his eyes away from the long legs and drool worthy rear the Omega took so much delight in flaunting. It wasn’t all that long ago that Tony wouldn’t even take his shirt off around Steve, much less be so open and wanting when it came to physical intimacy. But that had been before Sunset and before Steve had ridden to rescue Tony and before the night they’d spent together when the Omeg’as scent had changed from bitter and barely there, to the intoxicating sweetness of apples and cloves and cinnamon. 
Now Tony was teasing and flirty, blatant in his appraisal when he looked Steve over, purposeful in his touches when his hands lingered below the Alpha’s waist, coy in the way all Omega’s were when they tipped their head to show off the length of their neck to encourage a bite, or made their eyes soft and dark when they wanted a kiss. 
He was gorgeous, stunning, and knowing how hard they had to fight just to get to moments like this when Tony was hugging a towel to his chest and peeking over the edge with a soft blush on his cheeks and a greedy light in his eyes-- 
Knowing how many tears had been shed and how much anger and fear and misunderstandings until they finally this where Steve could cross the room and push the towel out of the way, shove his hands into Tony’s hair and claim the Omega’s mouth in a rough kiss-- 
“Alpha’s know right away when they find the Omega they want.” the Sheriff said hoarsely and Tony purred soft and sweet, wriggling closer to the Alpha because he knew what Steve would say next. “And I’m not sorry we had to wait so long for a heat, I’m not sorry we had to wait to bond. Alpha’s know right away-- I knew right way that you were meant to be mine. But if waiting means that now you know for sure I am meant to be yours, then that’s just fine with me.” 
“Steve.” 
“I would have waited forever for you, Omega.” Steve slid their mouths together in another kiss packed full of longing and love and every emotion he could fit into a simple touch. “Forever, do you understand? Even if we’d never made it to this step, I’d be here.” 
“Oh.” Tony’s fingers shook where he clutched at the tower, but he pried them lose to brush over Steve’s lips. “I love you, Sheriff Rogers.” 
“I love you too, Mr. Carbonell.” Steve captured Tony’s hand and kissed his knuckles. “I’ll go start your bath.” 
*****************
*****************
While Tony was splashing around in the big claw foot tub, Steve hurried around the apartment trying to tidy up. 
Heat could last anywhere from twenty four hours to four entire days, and since they were planning on bonding this time around--the thought made Steve stumble, a goofy smile on his face-- the Alpha had no idea what to expect or how long it would go on for. 
He did every dish in the sink and set them to dry, made sure there was plenty of fresh cool water to keep his Omega hydrated, and laid out an assortment of snacks and quick foods. Heat took a lot of energy for an Alpha, but it about decimated an Omega. Most weren’t coherent enough to recognize any bodily function other than need until the heat daze broke, and unless their Alpha was aware and prepared, Omega’s could end up severely dehydrated and hungry to the point of starving at the end of their cycle. 
Steve was taking no such chances, and after narrowing his eyes critically at the pile of supplies, he went ahead and added a few more just for good measure. 
Next was the living room and Steve pushed the various end tables over to the bookshelf at the wall before angling the couch into a position that would be easier to fall onto. A few of the quilts from the linen closet, and Steve made an attempt at arranging the blankets into a semi circle so it resembled a nest, then stripped off his button up and his undershirt and tucked the clothing into the pile as well. Sometimes Tony loved to be on the couch, sometimes he wanted Steve to stretch him out on the floor and kiss him senseless, and the Alpha wanted to be sure Tony was comfortable and surrounded by his scent no matter what. 
In the bedroom, Steve pulled the pillows off the bed and tossed them to the floor, then rumbled the sheets and blankets up so Tony could burrow into the folds and be warm and secure. He didn’t know if Tony would want him right away or would just a little space for himself but either way, Steve wanted to be--
Knock knock knock. 
Steve whirled around when someone knocked at the apartment door,  his eyes snapping dark red and a growl working from his chest immediately at the thought of anyone intruding on their bonding time. He didn’t consider himself a volatile Alpha or one to jump from calm to furious at a moments notice like some of the others, but when the knock came again, Steve’s entire being changed from excited to prepare for his Omega, to ready to tear someone’s throat out. 
No one was going to interrupt this time with his mate. 
Steve stalked towards the apartment door and wrenched it open, not bothering to see who was on the other side before snarling, “Get. Away. Now.” 
“I know you aren’t talking to me like that, Alpha.” came the mild reply, and Steve registered first the unmistakable scent of perfume, and second, the slightly mocking and entirely un-intimidated voice of the Omega Natasha. 
“Ms. Tasha.” Steve made a valiant effort to clear the red from his eyes, but couldn’t quite manage it. “Sorry about that. What are you doing here?” 
“I heard our favorite schoolteacher has gone into heat so I came by with a present.” Natasha pulled a box of caramels from her bag and handed over to the Sheriff. “I’m sure you think you thought of everything, but I know you didn’t think about how much of a sweet tooth your Omega has, so I thought these would help.” 
“Oh.” Steve blinked again and this time his eyes faded back to blue. “Thank you ma’am.” 
“It’s my pleasure, Sheriff.” Natasha adjusted the neckline of her dress and cleared her throat delicately. “I’m sure I don’t have to tell you to be careful with our Mr. Carbonell, but I’ll tell you all the same. He came to Wildrock to escape an Alpha that didn’t treat him right, don’t run him away for the same reason.” 
“Ms. Tasha.” Steve managed a polite smile even though he really wanted to scoff at the lady Omega for even being worried he’d mistreat Tony. After all they’d been through, not even a team of wild horses would keep Steve from Tony’s side. Natasha had nothing to worry about, and he told her plainly, “I appreciate your concern and I’m sure Tony will appreciate the caramels, but you and the other Alpha’s that sent you this way--” 
“It was Clint who sent me.” she corrected with a knowing smile. “Sweet Omega was concerned for Tony but Sam wouldn’t let him any where near this door.” 
“Sam’s a smart man.” Steve grunted. “All the same, tell everyone to rest easy. I’ll be good to Tony.” 
“Make sure he’s good to you, too.” Natasha gathered her skirts and started to make her way down the stairs again. “You deserve all the best in a mate, Sheriff Rogers. We’ll see you in a few days!” 
Steve shut the door with a relieved sigh and put the caramels on the table. He adored the Madame and thought she and Bucky were a gorgeous pair, but he was ready to hide away with his Omega for a few days and not reappear until they both had matching mating bites. 
Tony might not be in full heat yet, but Steve was already feeling the tell tale symptoms of early stage rut, his skin tightening and just the rasp of his clothing against skin making him twitch and harden in his pants. He went to the bathroom to finish arranging the bed and couldn’t help lifting one of Tony’s pillows to his face and inhaling on a low moan. 
They spent almost every night together these days but Christ Steve would never get enough of his Omega’s scent. Tony was addicting, intoxicating, and Steve had never been so greedy for anything in his life. 
“I’d much rather you cuddle me and not my pillow.” Tony spoke up from the doorway and the Alpha turned with an embarrassed flush that melded into a hungry, impressed, whistle when he saw his Omega leaning naked and dripping wet onto the floor. “Come here and kiss me.” 
Steve dropped the pillow and sauntered over to kiss his Omega, sweeping his thumbs along the line of Tony’s jaw and bending down to give him a sweet kiss. 
Tony was in a hurry though and stood on his toes to make the kiss happen faster, mashing their lips together and throwing bath damp arms around the Alpha’s neck to drag him down, wriggling impatiently against the immovable frame and nipping at the Sheriff’s lip to demand more.
“You there yet?” Steve checked Tony’s scent and hummed in anticipation when he caught just the edge of heat coloring the cinnamon apple taste. “Almost, huh? Want to sleep for a little bit so you’re rested and ready for me?” 
“Naked.” Tony replied, flattening his palms to the Alpha’s bare chest and digging his nails in just enough to make Steve sweat. “I want to sleep naked.” 
“Is this where you start being bratty with me?” Steve gave the Omega another kiss when Tony motioned for one, parting Tony’s lips and moaning when his mate let their tongues tangle. “I think I approve.” 
“If you think this is bratty, you obviously haven’t spent any time with a---” Tony mewled when the Alpha’s hand slid down his back to the curve and rise of his rear, going suddenly pliant as if his legs had failed him. “Um, this isn’t bratty-- oh.” 
Tony gasped when Steve’s teeth landed at his bonding mark, the words trailing into a purr as he closed his eyes and sagged against the Sheriff. “Sorry, I-- uh-- you were um--” 
“I thought you were gonna be bratty.” Steve fit his big palm to the back of Tony’s neck and brought him close for another knee weakening kiss. “Where’s your sass and snark, baby?” 
“...Alpha.” Tony said helplessly. He had come to the door fully intending on telling the Alpha exactly what he wanted out of the next few hours before his heat hit, but now all he wanted to do was stare up into Steve’s blue eyes and let the Alpha manhandle him a little bit. “Sheriff?” 
“I’ve got you.” Steve was smiling but he certainly wasn’t making fun, his expression nothing less than entirely adoring as he lifted Tony into his arms and carried him to the bed. “You tell me what you want Tony and I’ll do it.” 
“I just want you.” Tony asked, burrowing into the blankets for a few seconds and then automatically rolling onto his back and letting his thighs fall open, holding up both arms for the Alpha. “Please?” 
“Oh honey.” Steve barely remembered to stop and take his boots off before climbing into the bed, far too distracted by the way Tony was wiggling, plucking at the sheets and biting at his lips. “Tony, you have me. I’m yours, sweetheart.” 
“Mine.” Tony didn’t settle down until Steve was braced over him and lying heavy between his knees, and even then, he arched up off the bed to rub their bare chests together. “Steve, I need you closer. Please?” 
“Come here.” Steve rolled in the bed until Tony was straddling his waist, then felt around for a blanket and drew it up over the Omega’s shoulders and wrapped both arms around him. “Hows that?” 
“Oh-h-h---” Tony melted over Steve’s heart, curling close and notching his nose in the hollow of Steve’s throat where the Alpha’s scent was the strongest. He shut his eyes and began purring almost immediately, all the tension washing from his body and leaving him boneless on top of his mate. “Thank you.” 
“Sleep for a little bit.” Steve knew without asking that this was the sort of thing Sunset had never had time to do during Tony’s heat, and his broke just a little bit for all the years the sweet Omega had needed to be held and the Alpha had been too busy to do it. “Sleep Tony, I’ll be right here. I’m not going anywhere.” 
“Promise?” 
Steve’s heart broke even more at the whispered question. Tony couldn’t help it sometimes, he couldn’t help asking if his Alpha would be there even though Steve told him again and again that yes he would always be there. Tony couldn’t help asking and Steve would never be too busy to remind him, “Tony, I will always be here.” 
“....I love you.” 
“I love you.” The Alpha dotted kisses all over Tony’s forehead and any bit of skin he could reach for a few minutes before whispering, “Tony--” 
Bhe Omega was already asleep, impending heat making him tired, and he snored quietly where he rested over Steve’s heart. “Sweet Omega.” Steve kept kissing Tony anyway, kept rubbing at his mate’s back and smoothing the curls back from Tony’s eyes. “I love you so much.” 
***************
***************
Tony’s full heat hit a few hours later, and Steve went from napping peacefully with his arms full of content Omega, to being woken up rather abruptly when a firm hand closed around his cock and stroked him quickly to full hardness and then--
“Tony!” Steve might have yelped, might have actually screamed, when he was suddenly engulfed in tight and wet and so so so hot as the suddenly desperate Omega lined himself up with the head of Steve’s cock and sank down in one quick jolt, filling himself to the brim and sending ripples of shock through both their systems. 
“Omega?” Steve was scrambling to orient himself, his body awake before he was even fully aware and automatically thrusting up into every downward roll of Tony’s lean hips. “Are you-- can I-- what--”
“M’sorry.” Tony was panting, gasping for air as he worked the Alpha’s cock into his body over and over. “Woke up-- needed you-- sorry---” 
“No no no, not sorry.” Steve’s mind finally kicked in and he spanned his Omega’s waist with both hands to help Tony on the next lift up. “No baby this is fine, this is fine, I told you if you needed me, you could have me. This is fine sweetheart, don’t stop-- don’t stop--” 
“I need you.” Tony’s dark eyes were wild with heat, brimming with tears as his core clenched tight and not full enough. “Steve. Alpha. I need you.” 
“I’m right here.” Steve flipped them easily, pinning Tony to the bed and seating himself further into the Omega’s wet center. “I’m right here, Tony. I’ve got you, I’ve got you, I’ve got you.” 
“More.” The Omega ripped his nails down Steve’s back at that first full thrust, threw his head back into the blankets and shouted when the Alpha pulled out and then drove back inside at a nearly punishing pace. “More! Alpha! I need you!” 
The scent of heat spiked sharp in the room and Steve’s eyes flooded with rut red as his body keyed up even further in response to the slick soaking his mate’s thighs and the sopping squelch every time their hips met. The Omega’s slender cock was lying flat against his tensed stomach, twitching and leaking every time the Alpha rocked into him, thin liquid gathering in the crease at his hip bone and dripping down to pool low where they were connected. Steve was half insane with the need to taste, so he did exactly that, bending nearly double and slowing the motion of his hips long enough to lick the salty sweet from Tony’s skin.
“So good.” he moaned. “Tony, baby you taste--” 
“Taste me later, give me more of you.” There was a little bit of demanding and Steve took it with a notch of pride because he loved seeing Tony driven wild beneath him. 
“I’ve got more for you.” He promised, but Tony was too far gone to reply by now, barely coherent, barely able to pull a full breath between strokes, his ankles locked around Steve’s waist and fingers digging into the Alpha’s biceps as he held on through each bed shaking push of his mate’s hips. “C’mon baby, c’mon here’s more for you, gonna open up real pretty for me?” 
Tony writhed and pleaded and Steve grunted, “Gonna knot you, baby.” and Tony shrieked an impatient, “Yes!” that rocketed to a scream at the first heavy weight of the Alpha’s knot in his core. 
This first time was fast, almost painful in it's intensity, both Alpha and Omega senses overwhelmed and bodies pushed to the brink too fast after waiting too long for this exact moment. 
Tony came without being touched, blissing out in a wash of pure pleasure when Steve’s knot caught at his rim for a few, mind blanking seconds. Sparks skittered up his spine and popped behind his eyes and Tony lost himself for a long time in the roll and wave of heat, the ebb and flow of consciousness, the grounding exhilarating feel of being stuck full of his Alpha. 
When Tony opened his eyes again, the Alpha was mouthing gentle kisses along his jaw and down the curve of his throat, murmuring softly sweet nonsense into his ear and rubbing comforting circles at his side and when Tony shifted on the bed, he felt the thick tug of Steve’s knot in his core. 
“...Sheriff?” Tony came back to himself with a jolt and a gasp, his hand flying to his neck to feel for a bite mark. “Steve, I--I missed it-- did you bite me?” 
“Wasn’t gonna bite you when you were out of it like that, baby.” Steve leaned down and left a kiss over the unmarked bonding spot. “Need’ta be awake enough to bite me back for the bond to take.” 
Tony covered his eyes in a rush of embarrassment, but the Alpha reached up and moved his arm out of the way with a whispered, “Don’t hide from me, Tony. Never from me. That was perfect, couldn’t have asked for a better first round with you.” 
“Too fast.” Tony mumbled self consciously and Steve countered, “I told you I’d be here whether it took a day or a week and a half and I meant it, Tony. I’m here, I’m not going anywhere. I want every bit of this-- every bit of you-- no matter how it plays out.”
“Did you…?” Tony coughed. “Um did you--” Steve thrust against him lightly and Tony nearly shrieked when the width of his Alpha pulled inside him. “ Oh f-fuck. Alpha.” 
Steve’s grin was smug enough to warrant a slap, but Tony was too content to care, the heat daze fading just enough to leave him loopy and sated as the initial urgency wore off. “Sure didn’t mind waking up to you on top of me, Omega. We could do that more often.”
“Oh my god.” Tony tried to hide his face again, and again Steve batted his hands away. “I’ve never-- never done that before, I’m sorry.” 
“Don’t be sorry.” Steve maintained, testing his knot again and grinning in sheer satisfaction when it didn’t budge an inch and the Omega gasped and nearly fell apart beneath him. “You warned me you were gonna be bratty and demanding, Tony. I’d expect nothing less from our very particular school teacher.” 
Tony finally smiled and relaxed under the Alpha, returning Steve’s kisses and even purring as his body calmed down further. “I forgot to wear the hat.” 
“Next time you get up there and ride my cock--” Steve swallowed the shocked sound the Omega made with a long kiss. “--I’ll put my Stetson on you myself. Think you’d be real gorgeous wearing nothing but my hat and the slick dripping down your pretty thighs.” 
“Sheriff Rogers! The mouth on you!” 
“C’mon babydoll.” This happy, Steve’s voice had a hint of the New York City swagger that so often marked Bucky’s speech as well and it made Tony smile. “Fella can’t help wantin’ to say dirty things when their Omega is as perfect as you are. You might be an angel, but you sure make me feel like a devil.” 
“No one has ever accused Tony Carbonell Stark of being an angel.” Tony said dryly and Steve countered, “What about Tony Carbonell Rogers? Sure sounds like an angel’s name to me.” 
Tony’s breath hitched, caught and when he searched the Alpha’s gaze wondering if Steve was still teasing, he found nothing but truth and honesty and pure adoration in the Alpha’s eyes. “Are you serious?” 
“As serious as I’ve ever been.” Steve whispered. “I know we’ve teased about it, and you laugh when I ask you but I’m serious, Tony. Once you’re mine and I’m yours, I’d sure love if you let them kids in the school house call you Mr. Rogers.” 
“Oh.” Tony’s eyes filled with tears again and Steve kissed a few away as they slid down his cheek. “Sheriff, I--I--” 
“Think about it.” Steve kissed him one more time and then moved to lift free, tugging at his knot until it started to give. “Sweetheart, are you thirsty? Hungry? I dunno how long it’ll be till you spike again but--” 
“Stay.” Tony blurted, and Steve started to assure him, “I’ll be right back baby, I’m not leaving you.” 
“No, I mean stay.” Tony lifted his hips and hooked his foot around Steve’s calf, forcing the Alpha back inside him and clenching tight so Steve’s knot wouldn’t go down any further. “Stay here, stay in me. Until I’m ready to go again.” 
“You want me in you until…” Steve raised his eyebrows and Tony nodded shyly, biting at his lip until it nearly bled. 
“Please?” 
“Anything you want.” Steve reseated himself and Tony groaned out loud. “I’ll stay right here. Promise.” 
“Mmmm Sheriff.” Tony stretched his arms out above his head with a moan bordering on pronographic as shivers of pleasure skittered under his skin. “You’re good to me.” 
“Tony.” Steve chuckled. “It’s not like it’s a hardship to love you, honey. You’re good to me.” 
“You’re only saying sweet things that cos you just knotted me.” 
“And you’re only saying sweet things cos you were just knotted.” Steve countered and Tony blushed. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.” 
************
************
When Tony’s heat spiked again, the Alpha was still buried in his center. They had talked quietly for most of an hour, sharing kisses and sweet words, the Alpha rumbling in response to each happy purr from his Omega, Tony blushing when the Sheriff’s speech got rough and filthy as Steve talked about how he wanted to use his cock, his fingers, how he’d let Tony sit on his face and ride his tongue until he came apart.
Steve had hardened when the Omega’s scent tinged sharp again and Tony clutched at the sheets with a quiet sob as he drenched around the Alpha’s cock and onto their blankets, his entire body tuned to the gorgeous slide of his Alpha inside him. 
It was all pressure and heat and perfection as Steve filled him again and again, slow and steady and devastating and Tony thought he could break, thought he would shatter if he couldn’t feel Steve’s heart beat and hear all the love whispered into his ear. 
And this time when the Alpha’s knot thickened and tugged at his rim, Tony went perfectly pliant and bared his neck in a clear show of submission. He gripped at Steve’s side and whispered, “Oh please.” when the Alpha stopped thrusting and simply ground against him, stretching him wide and almost painfully full and it still wasn’t enough. 
“Alpha.” Tony was begging now, tears on his lashes and a tremble at his lips. “Please? Please--” 
“You’re mine, Tony.” Steve fit as close as he could to Tony, locking himself into place inside the Omega’s core, lining them up from shoulders to toes and bearing his weight on one arm so he could pull over the Omega’s cock in sure, steady strokes, twisting his wrist and reaching low to press where they were stuck tight, sipping the unsteady cries from his mate’s mouth with slow, drugging kisses until there wasn’t any air left between them and they were melded together everywhere they touched.  
And then Steve fit his teeth to the bonding spot at the curve of Tony’s beautiful throat, murmured, “I love you, my mate.” and when Tony cried out as he found his pleasure, Steve bit down into the tender skin until it broke and heat scented, pheromone sweet blood flooded his mouth. 
Dimly, beneath the stars bursting in his vision and the body racking thrum of completion, Steve felt the barest flash of pain as his Omega bit him back, and then as the mating bond sparked between their souls, Steve felt nothing at all. 
Nothing but warmth and light and a sense of wholeness that was echoed with every beat of his heart as it synced with Tony’s, every breath from Steve’s lips that met Tony’s mouth where it rested against his own. 
Tony was crying again and Steve might have been crying too, but it didn’t matter. They were so close that any tears mingled into their kiss and were hushed behind muted murmurs of “Mine.” and “Mate.” and from Tony, over and over as he clung to his Alpha, “I didn’t know it was supposed to be like this. I didn’t know--I didn’t know--”
“I did.” Steve rested his forehead against his mate and basked in the glow that seemed to emanate from his Omega. “Oh sweetheart, I knew the moment I saw you, you were meant to be mine.” 
“I was meant to be yours.” Tony repeated and the Alpha growled in approval. “I was always meant to be yours.” 
***************
***************
Valkyrie would never admit to tearing up when Sheriff Rogers came in for dinner with his new Omega mate later that week. She most certainly did not look away and sniff when she saw the big Alpha lean down to whisper into Tony’s ear and she absolutely was not a little weepy when the Omega blushed a pretty shade of pink and stood on his toes to kiss the Sheriff. 
No, Valkyrie would take that to her deathbed and since the only person who might have seen what was definitely not tears was the Alpha Bucky, she knew her secret was safe, cos Bucky was definitely not tearing up either. 
“Stevie.” Bucky’s voice was gruff as he reached over to pound at his oldest friend’s back. “Congratulations.” 
“Thank you.” Steve was all soft smiles and quiet words for his mate, and the usually sassy schoolteacher was the perfect picture of a docile Omega, hiding his face in the Alpha’s shoulder and flushing in embarrassment over whatever Bucky rumbled in his direction. 
Sam and Clint weren’t in for dinner yet, and Natasha and her girls weren’t down the stairs, so Valkyrie took the chance to scoot out from behind her bar and go to see the newly mated pair. 
“Sheriff.” She punched Steve in the shoulder and grinned. “Happy for you. Sweet Omega--” Valkyrie was a Beta but she still checked with the Alpha before leaning in and pecking Tony on the cheek. “Mated is a beautiful look on you.” 
“I know.” Tony said over a decidedly happy laugh, and Steve held him all the closer. “Thank you.” 
“Come on, my mate, let’s find a table.” Steve was gentle, so so gentle with the Omega as he led Tony to a chair and even more gentle as he whispered, “How are you, love? Sore? Thirsty? What can I get for you?” 
“You’re enough.” Tony whispered back, and he knew it was only the presence of others watching that kept Steve from falling to his knees in gratitude. “By the way? I had to wear your skivvies! You tore all my panties!” 
“Oh.” Steve’s blue eyes flared dark red. “Oh sweetheart--” 
“I think as payback you should let me sit on your face.” Tony might have sounded shy, but his smile was entirely wicked. “Can I have a ride, Sheriff?” 
“Will you wear my Stetson, schoolteacher?” 
Tony took the hat from Steve’s head and sat it on his hair, then winked, and that was that. 
Sam and Clint barely got a glimpse of the Alpha Sheriff scooping his mate up and practically running out the door, almost knocking Happy over on the way out. 
“Uh... what?” 
“Trust me.” Bucky had over heard the entire conversation, and the Alpha’s face was white as a sheet. “You don’t want to know.” 
***************
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crazydemigod666 · 4 years
Text
SPN Sanders Sides AU: Black Eyes Grey Soul
Chapter 5: Toss a coin to your witch
Special thanks to @perfectnightalpaca: my editor, proofreader and close friend, without whom I would never have had the courage to write this!
ao3
Part 1 | Part 2a | Part 2b | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 6|  Part 7
Word Count: 4087
Summary:
“I’m sitting in a pool of blood.” “…Is it your blood?” “Yeah, I think so.” “Do you know where it’s coming from?” “Probably the stab wound.” “YOU’VE BEEN STABBED!?” “Oh yeah definitely.” In which, Virgil needs some assistance. Luckily, Remus knows a guy.
TW: Blood, daggers, nothing too explicit but feel free to tell me if it is or if there are any other warnings I need to add.
I trieeeeed my best at prinxiety okay? I suck at writing fluff. Have a wounded boy being comforted by his crush.
“You can’t just go !” a voice screamed, voice thick with alcohol and speech slurring with every letter that rolled over their tongue.
“Watch me!”
Before an answer could be heard, Roman had already left the building, determined to never come back. He didn’t even spare the ‘home’, if you could call it that, a second glance. Maybe he should have been grateful they took him in, fed him, gave him shelter and clothes. After all, it was either them or the streets. Roman laughed at the thought. Maybe he should’ve left sooner. He could live on the streets. Remus had survived so far. True, his brother lived like a literal rat most of the times, god knows where he found food and what kind of food but, he lived nonetheless. He even had time to spare to visit his twin although they didn’t always see eye to eye.
Maybe it would have spared him all the curses flung at him, the disgust that filled the air every time he returned from school, the beatings he received. Sure, he could take it. He could throw some punches back whenever he wanted and turn the tables at an instant. But what would he have accomplished? He had needed them, endured it all, for one thing only: to save up as much money as he could and go to college. He needed the financial support until he could finally leave.
And today was that day.
He didn’t know where he was going yet, but his feet dragged him forward, the only way he could go now. He could ask some friends if he could crash at their place for a few days until he had things sorted out. But then he would have to explain what happened, what his plans were. The few friends he had wouldn’t understand and their parents would just go and call his foster parents. He would be back at square one. Not tonight.
Tonight, he would figure it out himself.
“So, you finally grew the balls to get out?”
Roman looked around, though he had no reason to be afraid. Well, to not be worried he was going to be killed, knowing what kind of shenanigans the owner of the voice would pull given the opportunity.
A small, black and white cat stretched itself over a bench across the street, eyes full of mischief as they stared at the boy with a red bag strapped across his shoulder.
“Finally have enough money”, Roman said, walking over to it. “Took me a while but I did it.”
The cat slowly morphed into the form of a boy, though his eyes were the same green feline ones from before. “I’m proud of you Ro”, he nudged his brother.
Roman gave him a thin smile. He hadn’t seen Remus in a while, their last meeting ending on a sour note, when they talked about the incident again.
“Remus?”
“Hmm?” he picked at his nails, sharp as needles.
“I’m sorry.”
He put down his backpack and leaned back into the hard wood, arms crossed over his legs.
“I haven’t been acting like a good brother and I owe you an apology. Even though you’re rude, vapid, annoying and-“
“You really don’t know how to form a good apology do you?”
“I’m getting to it!” he sighed. “I know you’re just trying to protect me and I’m not giving you enough credit for it, but I really do appreciate everything you’ve done for me.”
Remus made a gagging sound: “Oh my god can you get even more sappy?”
“I am trying to be a good brother!”
“You want an award?” Remus laughed.
Seeing Roman deflated, he looked for a better response. “Look, I’m not saying you’re immediately forgiven.”
His brother looked at him in anticipation.
“I guess, I understand. I’m not the easiest, I’ll admit, but I just want you to stand up for yourself. Stop being a doormat. Unless you’re thinking of trying to shapeshift into that, that would be an experiment!”
It wasn’t the best reply he could have given, but it made Roman chuckle, just a little bit.
“So, what’s the plan?”
Roman looked at his twin, a mirror image, were it not for the mustache Remus so desperately tried to maintain, even though it completely ruined their beautiful appearance in his opinion. It couldn’t hurt to ask.
“Could I stay with you? Just a couple of days till I sort things out?”
Remus couldn’t help but feel for him. He had offered so many times before to take him in, even though he didn’t really have a house. Having him accept this time, it stirred something in him. Not that he would let it on. He was a vicious beast, a foul creature that could kill anything with its bare hands, the nightmare children had, the monster under the bed and in the closet. A loving brother.
“Sure”, he grabbed Roman’s bag. “Any idea what you want to do in college?”
“I don’t know, I liked the idea of becoming a doctor. But I don’t have enough money to go to med school so I guess that’s a no go.”
“You, a doctor? Nah, that wouldn’t suit you anyway. What about something sciency?”
“Sciency? That’s not even a word.”
“You know what I mean Roman-lettuce. You always liked to do stuff like that when we were kids, so why not chemistry? Or chemical-engineering? Or bio-chemistry? You could be a crazy scientist and make things explode! Or maybe…”
The twins walked down the empty streets, only the stars above them serving as an audience to their play as they made their way towards a better future.
------------------------------------
Virgil tried to keep still, careful not to stir the blade too much and muttered the incantation, exorcise Remy if he couldn’t fight them in person. Every breath he took burned his lungs, making the foreign presence in his body even more present.
He couldn’t even finish the first line when he heard something, a loud cry and then a big shadow looming over him.
He saw Roman walking over to it.
Don’t do that-
It hurt. It hurt too much, the blood trapped behind the sharpened tip, ready to escape.
But that thing was dangerous, he could tell that much, what was it, a dragon? Had he heard that right? Now it was gone, and he was starting to see double, two Roman’s staring at him.
Hold up, when did Roman grow a mustache?
“Roman”, the name left his mouth with pain, trying to call out for his friend.
“I’m here, Emo Nightmare. I’m fine, you’ll be al-“
He was sure Roman was still talking, soothing him and he could feel a faint brush of lips against his forehead before his voice was starting to die out.
“Hey now, stay awake Storm Cloud”, Roman tapped his face gently.
Virgil had a hard time focusing on his words. He didn’t want to fight the pain, he wanted it to be over with and go to sleep. Just sleep for forever.
“He’s losing consciousness”, he heard Logan say.
Surprisingly, he still had enough energy to say: “I’m trying to.”
Even when you’re stabbed you can’t help but be sarcastic.
Brain I am going to kick your ass if you don’t shut up.
He tried to remember what Thomas had taught him. Let the blade in until you’re sure you can stop the bleeding? Cauterize the wound? Something, something…his mind was getting foggy, memories slipping away with every second.
If they didn’t do anything soon, he would be dead no matter what. He could try…
He hovered a hand over his wound, concentrating on the gash and the metal inside, the edges burning before someone pulled his hands away.
“Don’t take it out”, Logan scolded.
“Wasn’t going to”, he groaned, having lost his focus. “But need to do something.”
“He’s right, or else he’s gonna be dead as a doornail. I know someone who can help”, Virgil heard the Roman clone say. What did he say his name was? Remy? No, that was the demon. Remus then?
“’m all for it. Leggo”, he made a move to sit up, instantly regretting it.
“You’re not going anywhere like this”, Roman pushed him back. “Can this person come here instead?”
“I don’t think that would be a problem. I’ll give ‘em a call”, he walked away and pulled a phone from his jacket.
“Alright, as for you”, he focused on Virgil again, “you need to take it easy.”
Virgil hummed in response.
“Thank you, by the way”, Roman added. “It should’ve been me lying on the ground, not you.”
“Like I would allow that.”
“Still, that was incredibly dumb. You do know all of us have advanced healing, right?”
Virgil knew that of course, but even when they did, he made a promise he wouldn’t let anyone hurt them.
“Roman’s right kiddo”, Patton squeezed his hand, afraid that if he let him go he would disappear.
“Why did you do that?” he sniffed.
“Promised you guys”, he muttered, glancing back at him. “You’re not getting hunted on my watch.”
Patton was about to protest when Remus returned. “He says he can come, but he’ll need some help with some supplies. You okay with being alone with him for a few minutes bro?”
“We can’t just leave them alone, what if the demons return?” Logan disagreed.
“Yeah, I’m not leaving them!” Patton backed him up.
“Guys”, they looked back at Roman, “I can handle it. The sooner you get everything, the sooner Virgil gets better. Staying here and wasting time won’t help.”
Reluctantly, Logan and Patton left his side. “If anything happens, and I mean anything, you call us, you hear me, Roman?” Patton raised his finger at him.
“I promise padre.”
Patton hugged him tightly and put a gentle hand through Virgil’s hair before he joined Remus and Logan.
Remus morphed into a dragon again and let the two of them on his back.
“Be careful you two”, Logan tried to sound stoic but he too emitted worry.
“We’ll try, Logan.”
“You better”, Remus agreed, “I don’t want to save your ass twice today.”
And with that, he flew off into the night, leaving Virgil and Roman alone on the forest floor. They watched the green figure turning into a spec before completely disappearing. For a while they didn’t say anything. It didn’t often happen that it was just the two of them. Usually Logan or Patton was there too. In fact, Virgil realized the only time the two of them were actually alone was when Roman walked into him singing along to ‘Thnks fr th mmrs’.
“Oh I am so gonna tell the others.”
“If you tell a soul I will make sure nobody can find your body.”
“Such a waste of talent! You should sing with me sometimes.”
“Please, I might like Disney, but I refuse to sing any of their songs with you.”
“For shame, you’d make a radiant Belle.”
“I’m going to puke.”
“If that's the worst you got, better put your fingers back to the key”, he sang back.
“You know Fall Out Boy?”
“Please, I might not look like an emo but I appreciate the classics nonetheless.”
They hummed some songs in unison afterwards, but nothing more than that. He didn’t want to be alone with him for more than a few minutes. Every time they were, he would feel uneasy, like his heart was going to jump out of his chest and he had to make a run for it.
It got worse when he found Roman casually walking around in a tank top, or wearing the outfit for his newest play: a white suit with a red sash, black dress pants and tall leather boots.
Seeing Logan in the gym was one thing Virgil could barely handle, coming back home to Roman wearing that, was too much. Still he couldn’t help himself but get closer to him while they trained.
From roommate to friend to crush. Damn his feelings, they only knew each other for barely two months. He hated to admit it, but he was starting to fall for his flamboyant roommate.
“So”, Virgil tried to cut through the silence, “ you have a brother?”
Roman smirked. “ A really awesome brother. Don’t ever tell him I said that.”
“Seems like a fun dude.”
“Psh, his idea of fun is scaring people to death or biting people in half. The one time I want him to do it, he refuses to. Typical.”
“He did save your ass”, a finger darted towards the fading red line on his throat.
“I didn’t have any problem taking the demon on my own. I would’ve turned into a dragon myself.”
“Didn’t you say you don’t like doing that?”
“I don’t. But for the right people I would make an exception”, he smiled fondly at him.
“Appreciate it. Still, your brother kicked ass.”
Roman chuckled, grasping the hand touching his healing wound. “ Yeah he did.”
“Does he always come to the rescue like that?”
“Occasionally. Maybe if I were more like him he wouldn’t need to.”
He started pulling at his sleeves, taking off his sweater and folding it into a makeshift pillow. “Heads up”, he said, lifting Virgil’s head and putting his sweater underneath.
“You’re gonna be cold without it”, he protested.
Roman waved his remark aside, pulling a little closer to him. “I’m a shapeshifter. I can turn into whatever I want and keep both of us warm if need be.”
“You’d make a great dragon, Maleficent.”
He let out a chuckle. “You must be in an even worse state than we thought if you’re calling me names like that.”
“Alright then, Prince Underarm Stinks”, he saw Roman raising an eyebrow.
“That’s the best you’ve got?”
“I’m literally dying right now and you’re surprised my nicknames aren’t great?”
“Alright granted. You’re nicknames aren’t that bad though.”
He put his hand on Virgil’s forehead, stroking the sweaty hair out of his face.
“I kinda liked Princey. Not the most original one, but it has a nice ring to it.”
Virgil leaned in to his touch, the pain in his abdomen lessening the more he directed his attention to Roman.
“Suits you”, he whispered.
“You think of me as a prince?” he joked.
“You’re just like Prince Charming.”
“Handsome, incredibly attractive and charismatic?”
“ A clueless moron all of the time, who can’t even remember the face of his love without her shoe.”
Roman sputtered, offense taken greatly. “Excuse you, I would recognize the love of my life in whatever state they might be.”
“Really? So you’re not a clueless moron, then?”
I found you, didn’t I? He nearly spoke the words aloud.
“I might not be the brightest, but I would know my royal counterpart with or without a glass slipper”, he stared into Virgil’s stormy grey eyes. He was struggling to keep them open, he noticed. He needed to keep him awake, at least till the others returned.
“Even though you think I’m an idiot, I gladly accept the role of a prince over any other part.”
“I didn’t say you were an idiot.”
“Virgil, you call me an idiot every morning.”
He carefully let out a laugh. “Okay, maybe I do. But you call me names every five minutes.”
“That’s how I show affection, Hot Topic.”
“Aww so you think I’m hot.” Virgil tried to write the blush that was creeping on his face off as a reaction to being stabbed, not to the fact that Roman looked genuinely flustered by his comment.
“Well I can’t say that you’re not.”
Oh. Oh crap.
“I said that out loud, didn’t I ?” He took Virgil’s sideway glance as a yes. “I’m a mess.”
“A hot mess.”
Roman’s cheeks started burning. “Oh no, don’t you dare turn this around.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“You don’t get to compliment me!”
“What, just stating the obvious.”
“No. None of that. Screw it. Nope.”
“Oh my god Roman you’re a disaster.”
“First of all, I’m a disaster gay, so that’s my aesthetic. Second of all, you do not get to say I’m hot when I’ve just told you that you are gorgeous cause that is a clear breach of the ‘no compliments when delirious’ act.”
“I don’t know what the hell you’ve just said, but I’m pretty sure you’ve never called me gorgeous.”
“Goodness gracious why”, he buried his face in his hands. “Why are you like this?”
Virgil grinned as he took his hands, stopping him from obscuring his face. If he was going to pass out, he wanted to see his face before he did so.
“Hey”, he shuffled a bit and Roman, understanding what he wanted to do, lifted his head onto his lap.
“How about when I survive this, and we figure out what happened, we go and do something together?” He coughed, his breathing becoming ever more shallow. “Something that doesn’t involve one of us getting injured.”
You called him a disaster gay but you’re literally asking him out while you’re in his lap. With a knife stuck to your abdomen. Aren’t you the hypocrite?
For fuck’s sake I am going to have an excerebration I swear.
“I wouldn’t mind that”, he answered, warm hands gently cupping the side of his face. “Totally just as friends right?”
“Sure, no homo or anything”
The laughed at the joke, taking in each other’s company.
“Thank you”, Virgil eventually said.
“I didn’t do anything”, Roman continued to stroke his face.
“Yeah you did. You were patient with me. Trusted me.”
You shared enthusiasm about my interest, showed me affection when you didn’t have to, tended to me when I couldn’t reach Thomas and had a panic attack. You’re calm and confident and I feel like I can take on the world with you. Whenever I see you, I feel this excitement in my chest, like electricity running through my veins, bursting at the seams. For once he wished his brain wouldn’t let the words bounce around his mind.
“You care…about me.”
There it was. That same feeling. Was he actually in love with him? Or was he just jumping to conclusions now that he had received a different kind of love and attention? ‘What if’s’ were running though his mind, assuming all different kinds of things. He had just met him, just become somewhat friends with him.
I like you. A lot.
The words got lodged in his throat. He didn’t even know him that well. But the way he smiled, the way sunlight made his freckles come through, how ridiculously extravagant he was, how he could make the whole room stop what they were doing and turn heads towards him, the way he felt whenever he received a message from him, bubbly and excited and joyous and wonderful and everything in between…That wasn’t just because he was handsome and indeed attractive and charismatic. This was more than that.
"Of course I do", his voice soft and caring. “Why wouldn’t I?”
Virgil made a move that would have been taken as shrugging. “I don’t know. I don’t know why any of you care. Besides, I tackled you the first time we met.”
Is it possible to cherish someone’s smile even more? Because Roman’s was filling him with joy in every limb, warm and earthy, nothing like what they show you in movies and more than any love song could convey.
“I guess that makes for a good story, no? I have to say, it left quite an impression.”
“Don’t make me feel even more guilty.”
“In a good way, J-Delightful. Perhaps you were a bit of an annoyance-“
“Likewise.”
“However”, he continued, ignoring the smirk on the purple clad's face, “ you have been a welcome presence. I enjoy our bantering, even though your taste in certain things like fashion-“
“Dude-“
“Are a bit questionable, you provide a new kind of energy to our group of friends. You’re straightforward and yet you consider what I have to say, even when you don’t agree with me. And maybe, I’ve grown fond of your little compliments, how rare they may be.”
Virgil didn’t know how to respond to that. No one was ever ‘fond’ of him, except maybe Thomas, but not like this. He didn’t even think about what Roman must have thought of him, if he felt anything for him. He edged closer, never taking his eyes off of him. "I-"
“Aww isn’t that just the sweetest thing ever?” someone called out above them.
Virgil cursed, shuffling to get away from them as he discovered who it was.
Remus made a soft landing to their left, letting his passengers off one by one.
“We have the supplies!” Patton called out, a bag with presumably bandages and stitching equipment in his hands.
“Great, great”, he muttered, pulling away further.
“Would you stop squirming?” Logan demanded. “You are going to cause even more damage like that.”
“Don’t care, I am not letting him heal me.”
“Now, now Virgil. That is no way to treat a friend .”
Virgil groaned, as much as his lungs allowed it. “Of all people, it has to be you.”
“You know each other?” Roman asked.
“Know each other? Please, that’s a laugh and a half”, the man answering his question put a gloved hand on his shoulder. “We go way back, don’t we?”
Roman examined the figure before him: he wore a black three piece suit, the gloves matching his yellow dress shirt, though for now he held his jacket in his hands. The top buttons of his vest were undone, the bow tie around his neck slightly loose as if he had just returned from a gala. Though he looked way overdressed for this party, Roman couldn’t help but be impressed by his style and finesse. There was something off about his face though. He couldn’t properly focus on it, the cheekbones appearing sharp at one moment but after he had looked at his lips they looked different, like his face was constantly shifting. But the most unsettling part was his pair of mismatched eyes. One a dark green, the other a vibrant yellow, keeping a steady gaze on him.
“Janus”, Virgil hissed, “If I weren’t impaled right now I would strangle you.”
Janus scoffed: “I’m offended Virgil, I’m merely here to help.”
He smiled sweetly and Roman caught the sight of a small fang as he did.
“As if. You’re here because if you help me, I owe you and that’s not going to happen.”
He tried to move again but Logan and Patton restricted his movements.
“If he can help you, does that matter so much?” Logan asked.
“You do realize he’s a witch right? I’d rather go sell my soul to the nearest crossroads demon.”
“Witch or not, he’s our best shot”, Patton berated. “What other options do we have?”
Janus crouched next to him. “I could always leave you to die.”
Virgil wanted to argue with him, but his logic said otherwise. He needed help and Janus could provide. Unwillingly, he agreed: “Fine. I’m guessing I have to trust you on this?”
“Oh goodness no”, he said. “But I guess a little faith wouldn’t be out of order. Logan, be a dear and bring me the brown bag I gave you?”
Logan handed him what he requested: “What are you going to do? Use a spell?”
“Probably. But first, let’s see what the problem is.”
He poked at the blade, making Virgil cry out in pain in the process. Remus had to stop his brother from grabbing Janus as he was absolutely furious.
“You’re supposed to heal him, not torture him!”
“Relax, I’m just looking at what I have to work with.”
“Use your eyes then damn it!” Virgil screamed, his nails digging into his palms.
“Come now Virgil, you know me. I wouldn’t hurt you on purpose.”
“You have tried to kill me on numerous occasions!” he fumed.
“Those were meant to maim or seriously injure, never to kill!” Janus protested. He collected himself before he advanced.
“All jokes aside, I know what I’m doing.”
He let his fingers glide across the blade, the warm yellow a stark contrast to the dark and cold metal. With a swift flick of his wrist, he pulled the dagger out, red staining his gloves like raindrops, the blood rushing out of the wound, sending Virgil unconscious for real this time.
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deckof-dragons · 4 years
Note
Hi again! Not so much a prompt, but a potential idea for a future work. Due to Time Piece shenanigans, the Snatcher, either through short snippets or completely involved, finds himself thrown back in time before he died, but things are different. Namely, he's married to the florist lady. How would he react to this?
Thank you for the request! As for this being a whole work, I would very much like it to be because I very much like what I came up with and would like to continue and find a resolution for it. I however can’t promise that so we shall all see what happens in the future. In the meantime though, here’s this.
Poor Decisions
The now deceased Metro cat had been carrying a Time Piece, presumably they’d been trying to cut through the forest to smuggle it somewhere else because they’d been an idiot. It was Snatcher’s now though. For a time at least; Hat Kid would come looking for it eventually. He’d probably give it to her too to avoid another fight – after the final Death Wish contract, he had no desire to ever do battle with her ever again.
But Snatcher wanted to keep this one. He’d eaten the cat’s soul so everything the cat had owned was now rightfully his as was the law of the land – he’d written that particular law but he was the monarch so he was allowed to. Also, he’d been a bit of a scholar back in the day and the thirst for knowledge had remained with him even through death and all those years; he wanted to resume his interrupted study of the Time Pieces. He also kind of wanted to eat it.
The energy it gave off wasn’t exactly similar to a living soul’s but he was pretty sure he could absorb it the same way he could a soul. Which almost made it seem appetizing. It was more curiosity about what might happen if he did though. He’d seen the things Mu had done with the Time Pieces and as far as he knew she’d never had immense magic power before. What could someone who was experienced with having a vast amount of power do with even one Time Piece’s magic?
It sadly wasn’t something he was gong to find out anytime soon. It was possibly dangerous even to him. So he should do more study on the Time Piece more before…
“Is that a Time Piece?”
Snatcher looked up to see Hat Kid standing in the doorway to his reading hollow. Great, just what he needed. There was no point even trying to hide it, she’d already seen it.
“I don’t think you were holding one back though,” she continued, “because my ship’s sensors said there weren’t anymore in the forest. So you got it from somewhere else. That means I don’t have to go find it though.” She skipped over and held up her hand as if she expected him just hand it over. “Thank you.”
Snatcher didn’t want to give it up though, not yet anyway. It was his, he’d gotten it fair and square this time. He wanted to study it and know more. But he also didn’t want to fight over it, verbally or physically. Teleporting away would only delay the confrontation though so…
“Sorry kiddo, it’s mine now. Missing one shouldn’t be a problem, right?”
She took a breath to protest but gasped in shock instead as he opened wide and shoved the Time Piece into his mouth. As predicted, he absorbed its magic, not as smoothly or quickly as a soul because there were still some physical components to it but that only made it a little uncomfortable and take a bit longer.
“What the peck is wrong with you?” she said, looking at him as if he’d just done something outrageous. Which he had but he felt damn good about it. “Why would you do that?”
Before he could gloat though the new source of magic in him activated and suddenly everything was dark, pitch black. … Oh no! It had been a risk for sure but how badly had he just messed up? He could fix it though, right? Yeah, for sure he just had to…
His eyes snapped open to the sight of an unfamiliar ceiling. Something was very, very wrong. It was dark, he could still see but barely; his night vision was compromised.
He let out a shaky breath, an actual real breath because he was breathing again. And his heart was beating too! He was alive again!? How? Why? This couldn’t be real.
Shaking, he sat up and glanced around the room. There was a small window letting in moonlight but it was still so dark. He couldn’t make much more than basic shapes out. How did mortals deal with this?
Something shifted in the bed beside him. It was a person, still fast asleep. Their back was to him so even if he could see normally, he wouldn’t be able to see their face. They had long hair though so… was it Vanessa? It had to be, right? The only person he’d ever slept next to while alive was Vanessa.
He couldn’t quite hold back a small yelp as he scrambled away from her and out of the bed. He was alive again so he had no magic, he couldn’t possibly defend himself against her. He was helpless again and there was nothing he could do about it.
She groaned, shifting as she sleepily pushed herself up. Shit, he’d woken her up, he was screwed, wasn’t he? She was never happy when someone woke her. “Luke?” she said, voice still filled with sleepiness.
Snatcher flinched and back pedaled until he hit the wall. He pressed his hands over his mouth to stifle his suddenly too loud breathing. His heart was pounding too and honestly he didn’t like how it felt. Being alive was no longer something he wanted to be.
Vanessa shifted and pawed at where he’d been lying on the bed, clearly noting his absence. He stayed frozen, back pressed against the wall, hands pressed over his mouth hard enough that he could barely even breath through his nose. The door was on the other side of the room, past the bed and past Vanessa. He didn’t dare run for it, she’d catch him for sure. Maybe if he stayed quiet and still, she’d just go back to sleep and then he could sneak out and figure out what was going on and hopefully fix it.
That didn’t happen though. Instead she sat all the way up and reached over to the nightstand to switch on a magic fueled lantern, flooding the room with light. It hurt his dumb mortal eyes enough to make him flinch and close them instinctively. Ugh!
“Are you okay? What’s wrong?”
He forced open his eyes again to see Vanessa had gotten out of bed and stepped closer to him. Except her hair was red instead of blonde and her face was the Florist’s. … It wasn’t Vanessa.
Suddenly weak at the knees, Snatcher took his hands off his mouth at last. “Madeline! You’re alive!” He never thought he’d see her again. He almost wanted to hug her and might’ve if she’d been in immediate reach. “I guess that makes sense though, huh? Since I’m alive too.” And not in the cellar.
“Yep,” she said. “Did you have a nightmare?”
“Uh well… in way I guess you could say I did.” The whole thing with Vanessa had certainly been a nightmare. And whatever this situation was, was also a bit nightmarish in its own unique way. “Why were we sleeping in the same bed though?” If Vanessa found out, he’d end up in the cellar again.
Madeline raised an eyebrow. “Uh… we’ve been sleeping in the same bed ever since we got married. So is this a prank or… Are you okay?” She suddenly looked worried again.
“What do you mean… ‘married’?” He’d never liked her like that no matter what Vanessa had claimed. Like a fool he’d only had eyes for Vanessa. And well… “What the peck is going on here?”
“I’d like to know that too. So I need you to tell me what’s wrong so I can help.” She was patient, kind, and worried about him like she always was. She’d been his only friend after Vanessa had driven everyone else away, isolated him by making him believe that no one else loved him. “So, Luke honey, why don’t you come over and sit on the bed and we can talk, okay? Or not, whatever you need.”
Snatcher couldn’t help but flinch a little at the name, only Vanessa had ever called him that. “Don’t call me that.” His voice was far harsher than he’d intended it to be, making her flinch a little.
As always, she didn’t get mad back though, she was a saint. “What? ‘Luke’ or ‘honey’? Because I call you both all the time.”
“Both.” He wanted to be called ‘Snatcher’ but he couldn’t ask that of her, could he? So… “Just… don’t call me anything. If you must refer to me by name, ‘Lukas’ is fine.”
“All right Lukas, could you please sit down now and tell me what’s wrong because you’re really scaring me right now.” She looked scared too for him. Ugh.
He could trust her though, right? He’d vented to her about Vanessa plenty of times and it had never gotten back to the manor. And she was his friend. And maybe explaining things might help him figure out what happened? It had something to do with the Time Piece for sure. Which now that he was starting to calm down some, he could still feel its power inside him. He wasn’t sure how to activate it though and scared to try because last time it had activated, probably upon the physical components of it being destroyed, he’d ended up here.
“Time shenanigans,” he finally said, looking back up at Madeline. He wasn’t going to go over there to sit down though because he didn’t want to. “That has to be it, I think. I swallowed a Time Piece and suddenly I’m here.”
Madeline sat down on the edge of the bed. “What does that mean?”
“Time Pieces are basically magic hourglasses. They can be used to travel though time and other things. I wasn’t able to study them for long enough to find out. So… this is an alternate timeline perhaps? That’s the only thing that makes sense, right?”
“No, nothing you’re saying makes sense. I’d question if you’re on drugs but I know you’re not. But… you’re claiming you’re from an alternate timeline, correct?” Naturally she was having obvious trouble believing that.
“Yep.”
“And you got here by eating a magic hourglass?”
“Yep.”
“A whole hourglass? How and more importantly why?”
Snatcher shrugged. “It’s complicated.” No way was he going to admit to eating it to avoid having a child take it from him by force. “But I woke up here pretty much right after I swallowed it so it’s the only thing that could’ve brought me here. And an alternate timeline is only thing I can think of that would explain this because things aren’t supposed to be like this, even in the past. You can believe me or not, I don’t care.” He did have to find a way to fix it though.
How likely was it with how screwy this alternate timeline was that Hat Kid would be around? He couldn’t know but she’d be the one he’d want to ask about this because she was most likely to know how to fix it. His only other option would be to figure out how to activate the Time Piece’s power inside him and pray it brought him back to his world. A risk for sure, especially considering if there was a time line in which he was married to the Florist, there was probably one where he’d ended up actually marrying Vanessa. … There was probably also one where Moonjumper never came and she kept him alive the cellar for who knows how long and possibly even trapped his powerless ghost down there until he faded. … Welp, he suddenly felt like he wanted to vomit so he wasn’t going to consider that possible timeline ever again.
“All right,” Madeline said after taking a deep breath. “You sound like you believe that and I don’t think you’d pull a prank like this so…  what kind of time line do you come form?”
“Uh… one where we were just friends.”
She frowned at him. “Is there a reason for the past tense?”
Yep, it was in the past, she’d died. He’d become a ghost, while she hadn’t – as far as he knew anyway, Vanessa could’ve destroyed her ghost as soon as it formed. He couldn’t tell her that though, could he? Damn, he was soft, huh? She was his old friend though so… it made sense, he’d been much softer and weaker in those days. He’d never had to let go of that with her because she’d been only a memory. So… “Nah, don’t worry about it. We’re good friends still, I just haven’t seen in her in a while.”
If Madeline caught on or suspected the lie she didn’t show it right now. Instead she fidgeted nervously. “Um… what about my Lukas? What happened to him? Did he switch with you or… did you replace him?”
Snatcher opened his mouth to reply but paused. “I uh… don’t know.” On one hand, switching with him would be awful because who knows what that Lukas would do in Snatcher’s timeline, what secrets he might reveal that people did not need to know. But replacing him wouldn’t be good either because what if when Snatcher figured out how to fix this, he was gone for good? Madeline obviously cared about him, she’d married him for peck’s sake, Snatcher would feel bad taking him away from her. “I’m sure it’ll be fine, don’t worry about it. I’ll fix this and then everything will go back to normal for both of us.” Hopefully.
She looked at him, her expression mirroring his own uncertainties about that. “How you are going to fix it then?”
“I’m not sure yet. There’s someone I want to talk who might know. I don’t know if she’ll be here though so… I might just have to figure it out by myself.” No matter what though he was going to figure it out because he did not want to be here.
He’d only been alive again for a little while and he already hated it; his heartbeat and the breathing thing but mostly because he didn’t have any power other than the Time Piece’s and that was unacceptable. He couldn’t defend himself like this or shift to make his form bigger to make him feel more powerful too. So if he couldn’t find Hat Kid in this pecked up timeline, he’d have to figure out how to activate the Time Piece again and risk where it might take him this time if not home. Considering the possibilities, he really didn’t want to do that so hopefully this timeline was messed up enough that Hat Kid would be here somewhere he could find her. And if so, hopefully she’d be willing to help him.
For this request event, sort of anyway.
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Text
The Bad Guy
Bucky x fem!Reader
Theme: It's a good day in New York City for Bucky Barnes, who seems to feel right at home till his morning is disrupted by a bad guy. Maybe New York isn't the same place after all.
Series: I don’t know if this is a series.
Chapter warnings: swearing. so much swearing.
A/N: @writing-prompt-s​ once gave a prompt last year that stuck with me...I don’t remember the exact wordings but it had something to do with the reader/writer being the villain having a crush on the hero, always finding excuses (or crimes) to meet them. One day they are getting their ass beat and you decide to jump in and save the day. This one is same but with a liiiiiiiitle twist
Word Count: I cannot believe there are days when I wish I can poop at will, like my brother, and not just sit there constipated. Today has been one of those days.
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MASTERLIST in bio, love. Tags are open
“Get the fuck outta my face, you asshole!”
The anger rushed through the burning veins to press on the car horn for as long as that bald guy could; or till other vehicles standing there impatiently started cussing at the boomer to hold it together. To add fuel to the fire, a flock of pigeons made sure it got to do its business right in the middle of newly washed windshields. A woman stood by the crossing, watching everything unfold through her bloodshot eyes as she smoked the scene away in broad daylight while a stray dog peed at the lamp post she supported herself on. A man walked by, catcalling the same woman with the kind of smile you do not want to witness; but when you do, it is difficult to remove from your brain. “Slut,” the man spewed when he did not get anything for his manly advances. “Boo-hoo,” uttered the woman with pure disinterest, going back to looking at the woman standing across the road, trying to balance her grocery bags in her arms while deciding the right moment to cross the road.
Ah, yes. It was just another day in New York City.
It did not feel normal till the exhaust fumes filled up your lungs when you stepped out into this articulate maze of a city to go about your day, just like anyone else. That rusty smell of iron and concrete along with a splash of dust in the alleys, the stench of piss in those missed corners in the back alleys and parks, the howls and so-called greetings by the men at every woman passing by that caught their eye.
Some things never change. That’s what Bucky lamented this morning, feeling himself caught off guard for a split second as two women walked by with a knowing smile just for his blue eyes. Never indeed.
So, he still had it, didn’t he? Feeling like the same Brooklyn boy before the war, catching secretive gazes and moans of all eyes alike, greeting the elderly, petting a dog and stroking a cat as he felt a skip in his step. It was so good to be outside.
Two weeks. Two weeks since he had come back from Wakanda, deciding to join Steve, Sam and Stark in whatever little shenanigans they had running at the compound in the city outskirts; saving the world and all that. It had been a good start since the whole Hydra and Snap events. He had settled pretty well with the rest of the Avengers. Turned out it isn’t that hard to live with people who are just the same amount of weird as him. But the relief came from the fact that he wasn’t the only ex-assassin in the house. That redhead was super rad. I should maybe ask her out if she and Steve aren’t a thing already…though I doubt that.
But just because he had come home did not mean he forgot about the previous one. He would still get occasional memes in his inbox from Shuri and he would try to use them- what he thought- the right way, peppering them into conversations as much as possible. 
I wish Shuri was here, Bucky sighed as he looked at the Times Square announcement for the Young Leaders Summit happening this weekend, smiling to himself in gratitude for that young scientist making him well enough to enjoy the bustling crowds again.
The walk through this massive city was no joke. But the Winter Soldier took his sweet time to watch the life of the loudest and the quietest corners before he decided where he wanted to get his coffee from.
Just by the corner of the University was a little shop with the cosiest ambience- everything furnished in wood, old advertisements for wall decorations and some good old jazz music playing on the vinyl satiated his soul just the right amount.
“Coffee and uh…eggs and bacon, please,” he requested with a slight smile as he settled on the stool, trying to ignore the snickers and giggles coming from the booth behind him.
“Oh my gosh, he’s so hot,” his sensitive ears caught, forcing him to clear his throat and grab the newspaper kept on the counter.
“So fuckable,” another whisper came. Okay, some things have changed, he shuddered, gladly turning his attention to the police sirens in the distance instead of having to hear what a couple of strangers had to say about him.
“I wonder if he goes dow-“
A crash and a peal of horrendous feminine laughter drowned out everything else, breaking open the can of fight or flight instincts- neither of them containing the ‘go back home, its none of your business’ choice.
Stepping out, Bucky was greeted with one end of the street bustling with cars and people getting out of them to witness a woman stand over one with a bag swinging in the air as if to mock whoever who was standing opposite her. Bucky could not get a clear view thanks to the tree line in his view.
“I said put that down,” a commanding voice said out loud. Wait a second…
“Good Lord! Would you relax!” the woman called out, her back still to Bucky. By the casual pose, he could tell she was not scared of whoever was standing in front of her. “It’s just a smoke grenade in one hand the most expensive painting in New York in another. Also, the shittiest,” she shrugged before taking the piece out of the bag and forcing a gasp out of everyone, “I mean, who decided to pay a hundred mil for this stupid looking square drawn over a circle?”
Bucky moved along the tree line, right where her blind spot was, reading the scene to realise she was some idiot out to cause chaos in the streets. I guess the police have it cover-are you kidding me?!
“As much as I would love to agree with you,” a very tired Steve announced, his shield resting on his arm, “I’d rather make sure Tony gets this back in one piece.”
“Well, he can pay my student loans and I’ll draw him a better one,” you negotiated, almost making Steve laugh.
“Yeah,” he chuckled, “that’s a good one. Now come on. I don’t want you to get hurt. Give that ba-“
“Why not?” You tilted your head at him, making the Captain pause. Bucky stood behind an SUV, furrowing his brows at Steve and the woman.
“Wh-“ Steve was left with his lips in a confused pout, not really understanding the question while the summer sun made that soft blonde glow like a truly lost boy in the jungle.
“Why wouldn’t you want to hurt me?”
Bucky could swear by that colour of hurting emotion in her voice that she was looking at Steve as if he had betrayed her. Holy cow, she’s good. But then again, it’s Stevie.
“I..uh-“
“It’s okay. You have my consent. We should keep a safe word though.”
“O…kay I think that’s-“
“How about…Shield?”
Bucky nearly gave up his position with the involuntary snicker that left the back of his throat. Nonetheless, he had a perfect view of watching his best friend choke on embarrassment till he was red.
“’ Cause, you know, it’s safer to use protection.”
Steve was lucky. Really lucky the first time for having the street evacuated so as not to face the public embarrassment of being broken by a woman in a leather jacket and black jeans. That’s it. No weapons. He turned lucky the second time when an explosion in the art gallery behind him turned all the attention away from this weird one standing on top of a car and flirting with Captain America.
But Bucky was not going to let Steve forget this. Ever.
“Nat, what was that?” He called into his comms.
“Aw! Come on! I was just starting to get to know you!” She groaned. “Okay, I won’t burn this trash and we go on a date. What say?”
“We’re done here,” Steve declared before turning towards the three policemen standing behind him for aid, looking at him for further instructions, “cuff her up.”
Bucky moved next to the police car, taking the spare windbreaker resting on the front seat to walk towards the woman without giving away his identity. Not that there was much to give there.
“SO IS THAT A YES ON THE DATE?” she shouted in Steve’s direction while the cops cuffed her up. One of the policemen was quick to figure out the man doing the murder walk in their direction was not a part of the team.
“Hey, excuse me. What do you think you’re doing?“
Bucky tried to raise his hands to signal him to keep it quiet but something else was already catching his attention. That something being Steve body hurled out of the glass building like a rag doll.
It was a split-second reaction of him catching the arms of the cuffed-up woman. “Hey! You’re not going-“he broke as the face turned towards him, that weight in his voice slowly dissolving in those angry eyes- “anywhere.”
.
You had your share of bad luck. Who didn’t? It was New York fucking City. The whole place was a mess. So, it was a given that today was going to be just like any other day. Because who gets to rob an art studio and have their crush come and personally arrest them only to be called off by some other douchebag robbing the same place.
Now, it would have been great had things just halted there. But as fate would have it, embarrassment hit right when you got cuffed, watching the man of your fantasies being thrown out of glass and landing on the pavement with a groan.
No one hurts him but me, you growled, already trying to make your way towards Steve before a pair of hands wrapped themselves around your arms to stop and turn your around. “Hey! You’re not going-“
Oh, now what! You turned around to lock eyes with deep ocean eyes turning fifty shades lighter. “-anywhere.”
You did not know where that jawline came from but if he hadn’t been so beautiful you swore you would have punched the lights out of him right there and then.
Who is he, a part of you was purring.
Gunfire sounded behind you, making you break out this ten-second bliss to turn back to Steve hiding behind his shield from…was that a sniper you just saw on the roof?
Trying to walk towards Steve again, you were once again stopped by that blue-eyed guy.
“Let me go,” you declared, “he’s in trouble.”
Bucky scoffed. “That’s Captain America, doll. I think he can handle himself.”
You scrunched your nose at him, making him wonder it was Steve he was talking about. “Doll? What century are you from?”
Bucky stopped short of saying something. Let’s just not go there, darlin’.
“Let me go, he clearly needs help.”
“From a thief?”
“She tried to threaten a crowd yesterday,” one of the officers spoke, earning a death glare from you.
“And I am threatening to kill you right now if you don’t let me go,” you announced ever so softly to the officer, who walked backwards with every step you took in his direction, his hand resting on his gun, ready to take it out as soon as you were to become a legit threat.
“Lady, I am telling you to calm down,” he declared, his friends backing him up.
“Okay, no need to get-“
Bucky’s words were drowned by another explosion and before anyone could make sense of the situation, you were already breaking out of the handcuffs with one good yank, running straight towards the explosion, jumping over the cars to land on the concrete grounds of the studio.
“Uh…this is on the new guy,” the officer stressed, pointing at Bucky. Bucky looked at him with judgmental eyes before running behind you, trying to catch up as you disappeared behind the smoke, landing on the ground from the cars just in time to miss a screaming man that came flying in his direction; or rather, he missed a man that was thrown in his direction.
“What in the-“ Bucky walked into the smoke cautiously to hear the impact of fists made with ribs and bodies being thrown into walls and grunts coming from something wild trying to fight those men in tactical vests.
The chopper above cleared the smoke in time- thanks Natasha- for the Winter Soldier to witness you blocking an attack on Steve before crushing the attacker’s wrist and knocking him unconscious with your elbow right in his face.
“You okay, Cap?”
“They’re not with you?”
“Wha-Who? These Chads and Hunters? Not even if I was being paid for it, no.”
Steve apologised for the quick judgment, looking around at the men lying on the ground groaning in pain. “You know you’ll still be arrested for the theft,” Steve stated with heavy breaths, trying to wipe off the blood from his lips.
“Eh,” you shrugged, looking in Bucky’s direction, “I’ll live.”
For a second Bucky lost all sense of direction as you walked towards him, your eyes stuck on his. And was that blood on your cheek? Were you really hurt? How does someone look just as…pretty when half their face has been smashed? Everything ran in his mind like a freight train- which came to a deafening halt right what you stopped in front of him, drawing your hands up, palms out.
“Okay, now you can cuff me.”
Steve was a bit confused by the interaction while he stood outside this bizarre bubble between his best friend and this crazy woman who apparently had the hots for him. What was more surprising was watching Bucky lose all that made him ‘Bucky’ and stand there like a mute fool while you waited for him to do something with your hands.
“Oi!” you tried to snap the man out of whatever daydream you thought he was running through, “we going or what?”
Bucky never turned his gaze away from your y/e/c eyes as he tried to find the zip ties that he had on him, taking them out and securing your wrists in them, not bothering with the judgy brow Steve was throwing at him right this moment. He could deal with that later.
“Oooh,” you cooed at Bucky as he turned you by your arm towards the police cars waiting for you, “looks like someone is always ready for some action. I like that.”
Bucky was about to open his mouth to say something cocky back when he felt you push him back to grab the knife and the hand holding it, twist and break it before kicking the tactical vest guy in his knees. “Stay down, punk,” you commanded. And at that very moment, one more person in the universe started believing in something called ‘the one’.
.
“Why did you steal the painting?”
“Sweety, can we do this at the station. I’m tired and I could really use a quiet ride.”
Bucky licked his lips as he walked you back, not really content with the answer. You knew it too. It was hard to miss when Bucky’s hands on your arm changed the intensity of the hold. Not to mention the walk back was getting awkward the more distance was covered towards those pea-brained cops.
“…that painting could sell for millions online, ruin the name of this shady studio and win me a date with Cap.”
Stopping right next to the car, you turned and smirked at him, making Bucky wonder about this strange feeling in his stomach. “That’s all you get, pretty boy.” With those last words, you got inside the car, the cops driving you away as Bucky stood there alone for a few moments, replaying all of them back and questioning what exactly he had done today to have led him to this.
Just as the car disappeared from the view, Steve came to stand next to him, looking in the same direction.
“So, zip ties, huh.”
“So, a pretty stalker, huh.”
“She’s the bad guy, Buck.”
Bucky was still looking far out with this little last hope of you coming back. “…really?”
.
“First she impersonates an ambassador’s daughter to get access to the military secrets of three countries, then she crashes two military drones, and when that wasn’t enough thrill for her she comes after me!”
Pepper closed her eyes and took in a deep breath. “It was a painting, Tony.”
“Well, today it was!” He stated matter-of-factly. “Tomorrow she’s going to try and steal one of my cars. Or maybe even Steve.”
Steve- who had an icepack pressed to his swollen cheek- rolled his eyes.
“Oh, definitely Steve,” Natasha agreed before passing a smirk at an irritated Rogers.
“It’s not funny,” Steve muttered.
“She said something about the Studio being shady.”
All eyes turned on Bucky. The unwelcome chill down his spine told him he was being questioned quietly till he could come up with something more.
“Tony, you said this painting was shipped yesterday.”
Tony nodded. “It was supposed to be delivered here today.” He turned and looked at the canvas covered in brown paper standing in the corner, waiting to be attended to.
“Could she have been after the studio?”
“Wow, he’s really not stopping today, is he?” Tony uttered to Steve.
“I’m standing right here.”
“Why would she go after the studio?” Pepper questioned. “What are they, some drug dealers or traffickers?”
Everyone stared at each other in silence for a second before Tony called Friday to run diagnostics on the painting and give him everything.
Within five seconds, the results were up.
“There’re traces of unsanctioned medical drugs along the outer frame. I have also found a microdrive that contains in total seventy-five identities. On running a deeper search through the internet, I have found these seventy-five identities belong to the girls that have been missing for the past one year from the middle eastern countries. All these girls have a codename next to them. Would you like me to run a further search on this, sir?”
Silence.
“Yeah, you do that.”
Tony watched in contemplative silence as Bucky crossed his arms across his chest, waiting for the call.
“How do we know she’s not with the bad guys who have these girls?”
“We can always send Steve in to question her,” Pepper suggested.
“You too Pepper?” Steve felt betrayed by the one person in the room he thought was not going to get in on this. “And I don’t think I’ll be of much help. She never talks sense around me.”
Natasha chuckled, pouring herself some whiskey from Tony’s bar. “That’s true.”
“And Nat’s not going to talk to her because the last time they were in the same room she tried to kill her dog.”
“You had a dog?” Tony gasped. “When?”
“I just pushed him away a little hard from the fighting…with my leg. And it was Y/N’s dog,” Natasha stressed.
Y/N. Bucky ran that name inside his head again and again till it settled like a layer of his own skin on him.
“That’s called a kick,” Steve chimed in blankly.
“That’s definitely a kick,” Tony added, narrowing his eyes at the Black Widow, earning an eye roll.
“I can talk to her,” Bucky volunteered, “she doesn’t know I’m with you guys. She thinks I’m a civilian. I could get in her good books and find out what she knows.”
A brief moment was taken to put some thought into it. “I like that idea,” Natasha finally spoke. “If she’s the bad guy then we can put a stop to whatever she’s up to.”
“If she’s not…” Bucky began.
“Then Cap can finally go out with her without having to think of the greater good,” she concluded with a smug grin.
So, it was settled. Bucky was going undercover to find out the truth. Quite possibly the easiest mission of his life. But if it was this easy, then why was his heart bubbling with this strange sensation? Maybe because it was his first mission after so long. Maybe it was something he was yet to discover.
___
So...what do you think?
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