#hey do you ever think about bruce's childhood and feel your chest hurt

[martyrbat]

ghosts - batman: haunted knight

[ID: A multi panel sequence of Bruce Wayne as a child on Halloween. He's dressed up in a Mask of Zorro costume and is excitedly running down the stairs while holding two swords, calling out for his mother happily. He tells her that he's ready to go trick or treating. Martha Wayne has her hand on his shoulder and is smiling as she tells him, “your costume looks great!” Bruce replies, “Thanks, I made it myself. Alfred sorta helped. Is dad home yet?” Martha draws her hand back hesitantly and says his name. Bruce already knows that that means there's bad news. He tells her, “don't tell me,” before she continues and says his father called. Bruce has his head down, angrily finishing her sentence, “he's gotta work late!” He looks out the window as if his father will appear and says, “It's not fair! He promised he would take me trick or treating!” Martha soothes that she knows as Bruce repeats, “he promised,” to himself disappointedly. She tells him, “But there was an emergency,” which makes Bruce snap, “There's always some emergency!”

Bruce continues to stand in front of the window as Martha looks at him. Bruce announces, “I'm gonna wait for him. Even if it takes all night!” as he tensely clenches the handle of his sword. Martha reaches out for him sadly and suggests, “Bruce, I could take you out myself. Or, we can call some of the other children at school and go out with them.” Bruce, as an adult, somberly says off panel that, “she doesn't know...” as his kid self stares out the window still. His hat casting a small shadow on his face as he tells her, “There are no other kids to call. I have no friends at school.” Martha says his name again but doesn't know how to comfort him. Instead, she just silently places a hand on his shoulder. We see a silhouette from far away of her standing next to him as Bruce waits for his father to eventually come home. END ID]

[river-bottom-nightmare]

"you were missed, you know.” the voice is light, balancing on the edge of airy like a coin on its rim, in a way only careful practice yielded. so jason whirls around, faster than he normally would in a neatly-pressed suit and loose dress shoes. 

there’s a woman, close cropped red hair swinging into her face and pulling at the corners of her mouth until her expression is as severe as her form. there’s a scar on her jaw and, oh, the memory tumbles into his head as if pushed. kate kane, proof that vigilantism is genetic, once tugged jason into into her side and pulled him away from a particularly leering investor at function. the bite of her nails on his skin was a thousand times sweeter than the man’s smile.

she smirks. “hi.”

“haven’t seen you in a while,” jason responds, attempting casual and instead tripping, falling into his crime lord persona, since he doesn’t know how else to interact with people when he’s jason peter todd-wayne. 

“not since you died,” kate remarks and damn, right for the gullet. “you’ve grown up.”

jason shrugs, suddenly feeling thirteen years old again, suddenly feeling all of four feet, eight inches in the face of her candidness. “time’s funny like that.”

she eyes him carefully, trying to fish for the truth in what she believes is a lie wrapped in a careful quip. jason doesn’t blame her: he’s cultivated quite a reputation for himself. but he stripped the sarcasm from his words before he spoke them, and their rawness is shrouded in the bubbling champagne and crystal chandelier around them, but it’s no less present for anyone who knows how to peel the veil back.

“you were missed,” she repeats, satisfied with his answer. “not sure anyone’s told you that since you’ve come back. your family’s a stubborn bunch. i just wanted to make sure.”

“make sure i knew i was missed?” jason clarifies, feeling a little foolish, because dick wouldn’t beg to save his life but there were a few times that his words came close to pleas, and tim had made it clear how much he’d upheld the pedestal he’d put jason on, and alfred had actually told him that to his face. 

but this was the first time he found himself truly believing those familiar words. he hadn’t known kate, not at all. and yet, she nodded, clapped him on the shoulder once, twice, then left, completely unaware of the pit of resentment she’d carved out of jason’s stomach and thrown on the ground until jason felt like he’d slip on it if he moved, if he breathed.

she didn’t look back, but jason’s eyes didn’t stop following her until she was out of sight.

*

"you were missed, you know.” jason doesn’t startle, his training is etched into every scar decorating his skin, and there are times that he grips and holds onto those scars like a lifeline. he’s far too practiced to flinch, but he’d be lying to himself if his heart didn’t skip a beat.

he forgave himself in the next second, though. cassandra cain could make men much more experienced than him recoil. she appeared soundlessly, and folded down beside him with a grace that jason hadn’t seen anywhere outside his family. the amount of space she left between them, the relaxed posture that left visible tension cording through her arms like pulling steel taffy, the tilt to her body that made jason automatically want to open his mouth and let his tumultuous thoughts come out as an oil spill: right now, cass had dick grayson’s brushtrokes all over her.

“dick put you up to this?” 

cass shook her head, then bit her lip in a considering movement. jason wondered if he’d practiced, because bruce had long since broken that dangerous habit out of his children. 

“i am still working on comfort. assurance,”  she said, rifling through the words like flash cards, picking the most accurate ones. “i thought i’d practice.”

“oh? and why exactly do you think i need comfort.”

“i overheard your argument,” she admitted, “with bruce.”

“i didn’t think anyone was there.”

“i didn’t mean to,” she said. “sorry. but i heard what you said.”

jason scoffed. “prove me wrong. one step forward, two steps back with that dense motherfucker.”

“sign of protection,” cass said. “not distrust.”

out of everyone to say that to him, cass was probably the least likely. jason had thought she, of all people, would be on his side after he found the microchip in his helmet. she, of all people, would value independence after being owned for so long.

“by the time he found you, you were dead. and he missed you more than anything. he will never let that happen again.”

“oh yeah? privacy mean nothing to him? i know he’s crazy about this stuff but come on. there’s a limit.”

“you are not relying on him because of this.” cass stood up, stretching her back, though jason was sure she really didn’t have to. “he is relying on you. let him.”

*

“you were missed, you know.” 

“what, speaking from personal experience? i ain’t you, west.” jason could feel the gentle thrum of electricity behind him, making his hair stand on edge. two steps backward, and he’d be pulled into that void, that black hole of energy, that swirling vortex of pure power condensed into something human-shaped.

except he wouldn’t. it was just wally. just dick’s best friend joining him outside on the balcony. jason didn’t know how dick and tim could stand to be around speedsters willingly, for fun.

“i mean, sort of,” wally shrugged. “but me and you had very different experiences.”

“yeah, west, i’m not sure who else has been stuck in the fucking speedforce.”

wally snorted, an if only you knew hidden in plain sight. jason decided he really didn’t want to know. “i mean there’s that,” the speedster concedes, “but also, everyone forgot i existed. that didn’t happen with you.”

“you sure about that?” 

“hey,” wally eyed him, his eyes suddenly sharp. “don’t start that shit. i was erased from the memories of everyone i loved. you did nothing but stay in the memories of your family.”

“now i know we’re talking about two different things.”

“jason,” wally sighed, and the sheer exasperation pouring off him made jason want curl his fingers, bring them up for a swing, taste the bite of pain that would prick at his knuckles, nevermind the fact that wally would dodge anyway. “don’t do that.”

he turned to face the speedster, arms crossed deliberately over his chest. “where the hell do you get off acting like dick?”

“you’re more like dick than you realize,” wally said, “and i spent half my childhood dealing with his moods. actually, i still do.”

“do you have a point?” jason snapped, starting to get irritated. he wasn’t sure why. he’d spent his entire life one one end of a scale, dick grayson on the other. he’d always tipped his end down. this was the first time someone was telling him the scale was even.

“just because your family didn’t mourn the way you wanted them to,” wally said, “doesn’t mean they didn’t mourn you.”

“fuck you.”

“they loved you. and they missed you,” wally continues, steamrolling right over jason in a way most speedsters were prone to do. “there’s no minimum requirement for loss. no ‘if you didn’t do this, then you didn’t grieve me.’ that’s not even a situation, ever.”

“so that makes everything bruce did okay?” jason sputtered

“not at all. god knows i disagree with bruce on more things than i tolerate. but this is one thing you can’t fault him on.”

it wasn’t that easy, though. jason wanted to scream it at wally’s face, it wasn’t that easy. it wasn’t about whether bruce loved him enough,,,,except maybe it was. jason wanted bruce to have loved him enough to make a difference in gotham. jason wanted bruce to have missed him enough to change things, because change meant that bruce had been so hurt by his death that he refused to let it happen to anyone else again.

bruce had made a vow after his parents died. the fifteen year old inside jason was begging bruce why he hadn’t been afforded the same devotion. jason was his son.

“just something to think about,” wally said, then stepped backward, making to go inside where dick was calling him. “you were afforded the luxury of coming back with a place left empty in your family for you. you didn’t have to make it, like i did.”

“being dead, then coming back wrong isn’t a fucking luxury,” jason snarled.

with a shrug, wally turned, a little faster than the average human, lightning sparking at his heels as he left jason alone on the balcony. “depends on your definition of wrong.”

jason get therapy. please. also happy deathday

honestly i couldn’t decide whose side of the argument i was on, jason’s or wally’s.

tag list: @woahjaybird @birdy-bat-writes @anothertimdrakestan @screennamealreadyused @subtleappreciation @pricetagofficial @catxsnow @bikoncon @bonkybearjpeg @maplumebleue-blog-blog @sundownridge @thatsthewhump @xatanna-troy @red-hood-redemption

[maximotts]

♡ 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘢𝘵 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘵. 𝘪𝘪 ♡ {𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘢𝘯𝘢𝘵}

pt. i || pt. iii

a/n: ahaha remember when I said all would be fixed in this part? Turns out I lied. Part 2 was getting way too long and I didn't want this to feel rushed so part 3 will be the final part, but fret not, I'm finalizing part 3 as we speak because I didn't want to leave y'all at another painful cliffhanger. That'll be up right after this one before I go to bed tonight

warnings: angst, another semi-argument, Wanda reading Natasha's thoughts, a gallon of hurt feelings, panic attacks (Wanda)

summary: Natasha can't give Wanda space anymore after an Incident. aka the Secret Softy finally realizes she misses the Small Sunshine

words: 3.1k

masterlist. || navi. || request info/rules. :open

𝘮𝘰𝘺𝘢 𝘴𝘭𝘢𝘥𝘬𝘢𝘺𝘢 𝘥𝘦𝘵𝘬𝘢 = 𝘮𝘺 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭

𝘥𝘦𝘵𝘬𝘢 = 𝘣𝘢𝘣𝘺

𝘥𝘰𝘳𝘰𝘨𝘰𝘺 = 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵

✣ ✣ ✣

It’d been three weeks. Three weeks since she’d seen Wanda, eaten any meals with her, watched her dark hair fall gently over her shoulders as she laughed, or felt her soft hands brush against her fingers for reassurance or in a silent request to be held. Safe to say, Natasha missed Wanda terribly. Even more so, the guilt from how deeply she’d hurt the person she cared about was eating her alive. She saw Wanda’s wounded face almost as frequently as she blinked and she longed to reach out and hug her until it was all better.

She had made attempts. The night of her blow up, Natasha knocked on Wanda’s door for a good five minutes. It was obvious she was in there, sitcom laughter emanating from her television. After a while it was clear she wasn’t ready to talk and Natasha understood; she wouldn’t want to talk to her either. She resigned herself to seeing Wanda at breakfast the next morning, hoping maybe a friendly smile from across the room would let the girl know she wasn’t mad at her. But Wanda was nowhere to be found. Two days of missed meals later and having tripped over a dirty sandwich plate in front of Wanda’s room and Natasha realized she was purposely avoiding even the possibility of having to sit next to the redhead when she ate. Again, Natasha couldn’t blame her.

Now three weeks in, Natasha settled on just walking in. Wanda rarely kept her door locked when she was inside, she and Natasha were the only ones with permanent rooms on the female residence side and there was never an issue with Nat coming in unannounced- until now of course. An hour’s worth of hyping herself up behind her, she took the ten steps next door to where she’d hopefully be able to fix her awful mess. Still she hovered outside, hand outstretched, hovering as she took one last deep breath.

Her hand never reached the doorknob.

Before Natasha could make contact with the metal, a hot spark of red zapped her hand and she jumped back to avoid further attack. “Wa-”

“Don’t even think about it, Natasha Romanoff.” The first time she heard that voice again, she didn’t expect it to sound so dangerous. Natasha expected anger, but she didn’t know Wanda could sound so threatening.

She’d be a fool to try the knob again, it’d only upset her further. Nevertheless, it was important she at least got part of her message out. “I know you’re upset, Wanda. I’m upset with myself too. I was wrong, so wrong. I never should have hurt you like I did, I should have just talked to you. That’s on me. I want to prove to you I’m sorry, maybe even earn your trust back eventually? Whenever you’re ready.” Natasha sighed, twisting her still tingling hand in the other. “I miss you, but I ruined us. Not you. I’m sorry, Wanda.”

Unbeknownst to Natasha, Wanda had wandered closer to the door as soon as she noticed the other pacing outside of her doorway. She wasn’t ready to talk to her; she couldn’t find a way to face her yet without fear of looking like she was coming crawling back without having heard an apology, but before she could think too hard on it, Natasha was speaking. Her heart grew heavy with the weight of Natasha’s words. She wasn’t one for feelings or true emotions and although fairly clumsily uttered, Wanda knew sincerity when she heard it. Swayed as her heart was to run into the arms of the woman she missed for the past week, her brain instantly reminded her of other words.

You still want her after she told you how clingy you are? She’s right. You are pathetic.

The ache was back, stinging just as sharp as the day she’d first heard. She couldn’t yet.

Wanda’s back hit the wall, sinking to the floor with her knees huddled close to her chest. She knew Natasha had just been angry when she lashed out, that she wouldn’t typically be so public with her outbursts, much less direct them towards her, but there were some true feelings within those poison laced words and Wanda didn’t want to have that conversation yet.

“Well.. you know where to find me.” Wanda hated how sad Natasha sounded; she must’ve been tearing herself apart. She despised not being able to fix things. Soft footsteps told Wanda she was fully alone again and although that should have let her relax, she groaned with how empty she felt once more.

✣ ✣ ✣

Another week went by with no exchanged words and Natasha was beginning to give up hope. She’d ruined everything between them seemingly irreparably; asking any of her teammates yielded a non-committal response, none of them were spending tons of time with her either. She’d given up on knocking, having only met silence or words of warning. All she could do was wait.

For Wanda’s part, she felt like she was going to burst. Her skin felt like it was on fire, nervous energy sparking right under the surface. She’d closed herself off to everyone, opening herself up to Natasha was a mistake, it must have been. Her last words to her had been apologetic and kind, but the hurtful ones still lingered and she felt stuck. It was tearing her apart. Even more so, today’s training left her disoriented- earthquake simulation. As the fake ground shook under her and buildings fell, Wanda was spiraled back to childhood and more recently, Sokovia, and although she played it off as nothing with others, as soon as she was back in the safety of her room she fell apart.

Before she would seek out Natasha, whisper her worries against her skin from under the safety of a warm blanket. She couldn’t do that now, couldn’t ask such a thing from Natasha after what she said and after near radio silence for a month. Wanda huddled in her own bed, tired eyes staring longingly at the wall separating her and Natasha’s room. The person she wanted -needed- was so close, but so far. “You’re fine. You’ve dealt with this alone before.”

✣ ✣ ✣

Natasha couldn’t sleep. Not for lack of exhaustion; she’d been training longer these days in hopes of catching more glimpses of Wanda, just to make sure she looked okay. It was working and thankfully from what she could see, Wanda was alright. The past few days were different though; she looked more tired, dragging along more and more, and now today she’d survived the earthquake simulator. To anyone else, Wanda looked like her normal self, quiet and to herself, but Natasha saw the girl’s hands shake, watched her stance go slack in a way she’d warned Wanda against many times. Afterwards, Wanda was off to her usual seclusion before Natasha could reach her from across the room so she settled for giving Bruce a stern talking to instead. He should’ve known better than to shove Wanda in that simulation, especially by herself.

She left a properly admonished Bruce, heading in the direction of Wanda’s room. Arguments be damned, she wouldn’t let Wanda explode alone, even if she hated her for intruding after. If her repeated self-reassurance weren’t enough to convince her by the time she reached her destination, the moans and whines from within set her mind. Natasha hovered again, weighing the consequences, but Wanda let out such a sob that she couldn’t ignore. “Wanda? Can I come in please?” Her hand landed safely on the door, an improvement from last time.

“It’s just me, I wanted to check on you after training.” No response, but no rejection either. She turned the knob, grateful Wanda seemed to have forgotten to lock the door. Whether it was a mistake or a silent hope for Natasha’s intervention, she didn’t know, but she would use the opportunity. She could barely find Wanda in the dark room, but her eyes settled on the small form in the middle of her large bed and Natasha was by her side in an instant.

“Wanda? Sweetheart, hey, it’s me. What’s wrong?” Her eyes were unfocused, pupils blown wide with fear. Natasha longed to scoop her up, but she couldn’t startle her; she didn’t even know if she’d want her there once she realized who she was. Still, it hurt so deeply to have let her get this bad; she could’ve helped if Wanda trusted her enough to reach out. Natasha waited for what felt like hours until Wanda noticed her, crouching by a bed was rough on her tired knees, but she’d stay like that forever if need be. When Wanda finally made eye contact, she only stared at the redhead, as if figuring out whether the woman in front of her was real or not. She took a daring step, holding her hand out to Wanda, keeping it in her eyeline as long as she could until her palm reached her head. Her thumb moved, ever so softly, over her scalp as a test. Anything she could do to soothe her. “I’m here, Wands.”

If Natasha weren’t so strong, Wanda would’ve knocked her over. She’d thrown her full weight onto her in an instant, clinging to Natasha for dear life while her lower half still hung from the bed. There were so many things tearing at her, so much emotion she needed to unload, but she was too overwhelmed. Natasha had come to her. Had ignored their month of silence and hurt feelings to try to aid her and it left her stunned. “Tash- Natasha.. I-I’m so sorry..”

“Ah, no none of that,” Natasha stood with a grunt, taking Wanda with her to set them both on the bed. She navigated her way to the top of the bed in the dark, only stopping when her back hit the headboard, letting Wanda hold onto her, “This is my fault, I’m sorry. I should have been here for you.”

Wanda shook her head slowly, burying herself as far into the crook of her neck as deep as she could. “No. I should’ve been able to handle training today. You were right, I can’t do anything myself. I’m weak and pathetic and..” Sobs took over any chance of coherent words, shaking against the warm body she’d missed so much. Part of her screamed to move away, to suck up her tears and prove to Natasha she was just fine on her own. But she couldn’t pretend. She was fine on her own, she could handle it, but she needed the comfort of someone she trusted too. Someone she could relay her thoughts too instead of bottling them all inside until they got the best of her.

Before she knew it, Natasha felt tears rolling down her cheeks as well. She hated crying, couldn’t stand being so outwardly vulnerable with someone else, but if Wanda could be with her then she owed her the same trust. Toned arms pulled the small woman trembling against her closer, pressing frantic kisses to the crown of her head, anything to show her apologies. “You’re not weak for your emotions, detka. It’s one of the strongest things you could do to allow yourself to open yourself up and trust me.. I should have given you that same trust and been honest from the start.” Natasha cradled Wanda’s head to her chest, rocking her as sweetly as she could. She knew she was holding her a fraction too tight, but she couldn’t help it. Reassuring fingers brushed through long brunette hair, keeping her as close as possible.

“Can you forgive me?” The muffled voice from below temporarily shook Natasha from her waterfall of revelations and she remembered why they were in this situation.

“Moya sladkaya detka, you were forgiven weeks ago. You were trying to help me and yes, we need to talk about how I deal with the aftermath of long missions because I do sometimes need time to myself, but nothing, nothing you did warranted how I hurt you.” Wanda froze and for a moment Natasha was scared she would pull away, but she nodded slowly. “Can you forgive me?”

That was a loaded question. Wanda fought to clear her thoughts, organize them in any way that could possibly make sense. She wanted so badly to simply accept and stay in Natasha’s arms. It wasn’t that she thought Natasha was lying to her; she truly believed she was sorry for what she did, but that didn’t mean those words didn’t still swirl through her head everyday since she’d first uttered them. It was hard to think so close to her. Wanda pried herself away from Natasha, not missing the way Natasha kept hold on her hips as if letting go meant she’d lose her forever. “I want to forgive you, Natasha.”

It hurt, but it was fair. She didn’t expect an easy apology and didn't deserve one either. “There’s a but coming, right?” Wanda couldn’t meet her eyes; she only avoided eye contact when she had more to say and was biding her time. “You don’t have to forgive me, Wanda. I’m willing to do whatever you need to make you feel safe again, no matter how long it takes.” And she meant it. Natasha would put in the work for Wanda, she was more than worth it.

She knew what she needed. It was the only way she could think of easing her mind. Still, Wanda promised she wouldn’t do it again unless she had to, but… she had to. “I need to feel you.” A hesitant ring-clad hand reached out, tapping Natasha’s temple to finish the thought she couldn’t speak. “Nothing traumatic, nothing too deeply buried.. hopefully, at least.” Rarely was it hard for Wanda to search out thoughts in someone about a particular person who crossed their mind regularly. She hoped it was more than wishful thinking that Natasha had her in her thoughts with some frequency. “Please, Tash… I need to know you feel more for me than just ‘clingy, weak puppy.’”

Natasha opened her mouth to retort, to try to take her harsh words back, but she knew it wouldn’t help. The thought of Wanda searching through her mind again scared her still. Last time left her shaken for weeks, months, after what she’d dug up, but back then Wanda was looking to hurt her and damn, she was great at it. She had to trust she wouldn’t do that now. Trust was so hard. A promise was a promise, though. Natasha took Wanda’s free hand in both of hers, a lifeline to hold while she gave herself to the woman she cared so much for. “Okay.. be gentle?”

Wanda let out a chuckle; Natasha’s sensitive side was so very cute. “I would never be anything but, dorogoy.” Natasha nodded, swallowing her fears with reassurance. Wanda was only ever kind to her, too much at times; Steve and Sam never missed an opportunity to poke fun at Natasha when in the early days Wanda was practically exploding with nerves around the redhead. Eventually they figured out it was less that Wanda thought Natasha was going to beat the pulp out of her and more that she wished the older woman would crush her with her thighs- but the two men waited for Natasha to figure that one out on her own.

“Go ahead, Wands. Just be quick about it, alright? I don’t want to spill all my secrets right now.” Wanda agreed with a quiet hum, shaking her head and straightening her spine before moving her fingers alongside Natasha’s head. It reminded her of the first time they’d officially met; a bittersweet memory of how stunning she felt her then enemy was, but bringing her trauma to the surface before those steadfast blue eyes caught sight of her. Now though, Wanda was careful. Only going deep enough to look at Natasha’s memories and thoughts about her. How surprised she was that Wanda was as powerful as she was. Her instant and ongoing distrust of her when she and her brother came to aid the Avengers in Sokovia. Natasha’s annoyance at her stolen red jacket, with an added and apparently shocking sense of possessiveness brought on by seeing her in her clothing. Interesting. Wanda would note that little fact for the future.

Red ringed eyes shone in the darkness, both locked onto Natasha’s and staring far past her. She wanted to be open and honest, that was the whole point. Consequently Wanda let Natasha see what she was seeing and with every twinge of irritation her past self felt towards Wanda and her initial attempts to gain trust with her new team, specifically with herself, her current self cringed at her behavior. But slowly things shifted. Resentment shifted to reluctant endearment, then care and protection and finally into where she longed for Wanda’s calming presence when she was stressed or wanted a confidant. The weight of vulnerability felt like being flayed alive and despite the hand Natasha held using one finger to stroke reassuringly at her palm, she squirmed as they approached that night Natasha came home a month ago.

“You’re fighting me.” The brunette’s eyebrows furrowed, pushing harder at the memory Natasha was keeping away from her. “Stop it.”

Red curls shook as Natasha hung her head; she didn’t want to live through it again. Every night it haunted her. She should’ve just talked to her, given her credit for being one of the most understanding people she’s ever met, having her see it again would just push Wanda further away- “I can still hear your thoughts, Natasha.” Her racing concerns rang loud in Wanda’s own brain, blocking out any hope of unlocking that dreaded outburst until she could get her to calm down. “Trust me, please. You have to let me in.” True, Wanda could forcibly rip the memory from her with ease. It would take such little effort, but she wouldn’t- couldn’t. She needed Natasha to let her see, allow herself to be this forthcoming with Wanda. That would speak louder than anything.

It took everything in Natasha to take her next breath, “Okay, do it.” Wanda breathed a sigh of relief, Natasha’s agreement giving her hope of progress. She slipped her hand from Natasha’s warm grasp, ignoring the small sad noise she was sure Natasha didn’t want to talk about. Instead her hand went to the back of Natasha’s head and brought it forward to rest on her shoulder, her nose promptly burying itself in the crook of Wanda’s neck. Her gentle floral scent settled Natasha’s worries; it’d been too long since she was allowed so close. “I trust you.”

[wrenhyperfixates]

Anything

Pairing: Loki x reader Summary: When the Avengers latest mission is to visit local schools, Loki’s insecurities start to get the better of him. But with you to there comfort him, he realizes that with you by his side, he can do anything. Warnings: a little angsty, but mainly fluff A/N: Enjoy :)

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Disclaimer: Gif not mine

Loki frowned, looking out the window, down at the Avengers getting into Stark’s limo. They were doing some kind of awareness week at schools in the city, something or other about being a good citizen and staying safe. The God of Mischief had been invited to come, but he didn’t think it a particularly good idea. He’d never done anything with children before, and he wasn’t sure this was the best time to try.

“Loki?” you asked out of the blue. He whipped around at the sound of your voice. “What are you still doing here?”

“Oh, hello, darling. I just did not feel like going,” he said with a shrug. It wasn’t entirely a lie, but he still felt bad. “And what about you?”

“They insisted someone stay in case of an emergency call,” you explained. You weren’t totally sold on his excuse, but were terrified of pushing him, especially because things were going so well between you recently. “So that means we’re alone, right?”

“Yes, darling. Indeed, it does,” he replied, a smile curling on his lips.

Faster than lightning, Loki was pressing his lips to yours in a passionate kiss. You’d been dating for a little over a month, but were keeping it a secret from the rest of the Avengers. You both had your own reasons for that. Loki was afraid they wouldn’t approve and try to come between you. You, however were worried that Loki would put too much pressure on himself to be perfect if they knew, ending in him pulling away from you, convinced he wasn’t good enough. But either way, you agreed it was too soon to let them know. Soon, Loki had you pinned on the couch with his body, the raw desire in his kiss only growing. All too soon, you had to break for air, but you were quick to recapture his lips after catching your breath.

After a while, you were content to just lay with each other, cuddling while a movie played in the background. You were talking, and it reminded you of his flaky excuse from earlier. You were still worried about pressing, but god damn it, he was your boyfriend and you should be allowed to check on him.

“So...” you began.

“So?”

“So what’s the real reason why you didn’t go with the rest of the team?”

“Ah,” he said. “That.”

“Mhm. You don’t have to tell me,” you replied, caressing his cheek, “but you can always talk to me. I’m here for you, Loki. I promise.”

“I know, darling. Thank you,” he said against your skin as he nuzzled into your neck. He didn’t want to trouble you with what was on his mind, but your eyes were so innocent and full of adoration that he couldn’t resist. “I am afraid. Afraid that I would not be good with kids, that I would frighten them. Afraid that their parents would learn of my visit and cause an uproar. Afraid that I will never escape my past.”

“Oh, Loki,” you cooed, filled with compassion. You wanted to take his face in your hands, but he was still hiding in the crook of your neck. You settled for intertwining your fingers with his. “You are so, so much more than your past. New York wasn’t even your fault, for crying out loud. You are amazing, kind, insightful, compassionate, intelligent, beautiful. The list goes on and on, I assure you. The only way to deal with your fears is to face them head on, don’t you think? They may not even come true.”

You could feel his tears staining your skin, though he was obviously trying to hold them back. You were overcome with a powerful need to comfort him, to protect him from the world. It was so unfair that after all he’d been through, everyone who had hurt him, he blamed himself for all this. That he worried he wasn’t worthy of love when he was, in fact, the most deserving person you’d ever met.

“My darling,” he whispered, his voice breaking ever so slightly. Your chest swelled with pride as you realized you were one of the few—possibly the only—people he let himself be vulnerable with. “I cannot thank you enough for your words, truly.”

“You’re welcome, Loki,” you replied, taking a page out of his book and kissing the back of his hand. “You mean the world to me, my love.”

“And you the same to me,” he finally lifted his head up, and you turned to look at him. “I feel I can do anything with you at my side.”

“Does that mean what I think it does?”

“Yes. I will go with the rest of the team tomorrow if, and only if, you come with me.”

“Deal,” you agreed, kissing along his jawline and starting another make-out session.

Luckily, you heard the Avengers before you were in view of each other, giving you and Loki a chance to untangle yourselves and move to opposite ends of the couch. You shared a smile before turning your attentions to the TV as if that’s what you’d been doing the whole time.

“Well, I hope you two had a nice time while we were out doing hard work,” Tony joked.

“Tell you what,” you replied. “You get someone else to hold down the fort, and we’ll go tomorrow.”

“I’ll stay,” Bruce volunteered, a little too excitedly. He never was one for social settings. “Have fun.”

After catching up for a few minutes, you were all setting about your various tasks for the rest of the day. Before meeting Sam in the training room, you gave Loki’s hand a quick squeeze and pecked him on the cheek. Once you were gone, a feeling of dread settled in the pit of his stomach. But he’d meant what he said, and he was willing to do anything so long as you were there.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What do you mean we can’t visit the same classroom?” you incredulously asked.

“It’s too slow,” Steve explained. “We cover more ground, so to speak, if we split up.”

“But can’t Loki and I be a pair? Please,” you pouted.

“Sorry guys,” he said. “We have to stick to the plan if we’re going to get to all the classes.”

You frowned as he walked away. You understood where he was coming from, but felt like he should have been able to make an exception. But it seemed like there was no getting him to budge, so you dropped the matter.

“Hey, at least our classes will be right next to each other,” you tried to comfort Loki as you all walked towards your assignments. “I’m sorry I can’t stay with you though. I know I promised.”

“Oh, my sweet darling,” Loki replied, pulling you aside to give you a quick kiss. “It is not your fault. It is some Midgardian rite of passage, is it not, to be scared on your first day of school?”

You smiled at the way he was cheering you up, despite obviously being very worried about the whole situation himself. Honestly, you really couldn’t fathom why anyone was afraid of this gentle, beautiful man before you. Why he was afraid of himself.

“I love you, Loki,” you said, giving him a big hug. He melted into your touch. “You’re going to be wonderful. You feel ok with this, right? We’ll figure something out if you don’t.”

“I shall muddle through, somehow,” he assured you. “It is like you said, I must face my fears.”

You gave him one last encouraging hug and smile before disappearing into the classroom you’d be talking in. He took a deep breath before knocking on the door of his assigned room. The teacher, a middle-aged man with hair starting to gray, welcomed him. It was a little unnerving to Loki that he seemed to have no qualms with the God of Mischief entering the threshold. The class, too, was watching him with nothing less than rapt attention and bright eyes. Perhaps you were right, after all, and not as many people as he thought were still holding onto the image he’d had when he first came to Midgard.

“Hello, children,” he began after a nervous gulp. “It is lovely to be here with you today.”

“Hello, Mr. Loki,” they chorused back.

As he began the talk on safety, he relaxed a bit. It was a room full of third graders, for Norns’ sake. He had faced off against fire serpents and sea monsters. Surely he could handle a group of kids. And as he soon found out, he was right indeed. More than handle, in fact; he was great with them! As he waltzed out of the room and into the next, he wondered if he might have a family of his own one day. He didn’t know how you felt about adopting, but he was starting to like the idea. It didn’t go too well for him in his childhood, but he could ensure that some other innocent kid won’t go through what he did. Besides, the circumstances were entirely different. Though, he supposed he was getting ahead of himself, imagining having a family with you. Still, it sent a thrill right to his heart.

After a very successful morning, he met back up with you. Being the first two done with the presentations, Loki took the opportunity to whisk you away to a secluded hallway to kiss you again.

“So it went well, I take it,” you laughed as you broke away.

“Just as you said it would, darling. I even had fun.”

“Well then, congratulations, my love. I think that deserves another kiss,” you said, wrapping your arms behind his neck.

“I think that you are right,” he agreed, tickling you a little.

As your lips met again, you heard a loud, overdramatic gasp that could only belong to Tony. You both sprung back from each other, realizing the hallway wasn’t as private as you’d originally believed. Besides Tony, the other Avengers were all standing there, taking in the scene too. Shooting each other a nervous glance, you and Loki braced yourselves for whatever came next.

“You two,” Tony said, feigning utter shock and hurt, “are dating? Woe is me! How could you keep this a secret from us, your dearest teammates?”

“Spare me, Stark,” Loki said, rolling his eyes and taking your hand. If you’d been found out, might as well be confident about it. “Yes, we are together. And I, for one, couldn’t be happier.”

“Neither could I,” you agreed, going to kiss him again.

“Now, now,” Tony interjected. He stood between you and put an arm over each of your shoulders, leading the way outside. “No kissing in the halls. But you know what? I think this is the start of an awesome era for the Avengers. Just think of all the jokes!”

You giggled as Loki rolled his eyes again, though he was fighting a losing battle with a grin. As you got into the limo, fingers locked once again, Loki began to accept something. It was right what you’d said about that not being the real him at the Battle of New York. No, he was himself now. Someone different, perhaps better and stronger than ever before. And it was you in a large part who had helped him see that. He knew in that moment that he’d been entirely right; with you by his side, he could do anything.

[dibs4ever]

Memories

One of the first memories Dick gets back is a favorite of his

He's 16 and sitting on the bed in Barbara Gordon’s childhood bedroom. She’s sitting in front of him, first aid kit in her lap

It’s an age before explored feelings

But that didn’t mean they weren’t already starting to shine through

“You shouldn’t have faced Ivy and Harley alone.” She said softly as she dabbed a cut above his eyebrow with a cotton ball.

He shrugged “I’m fine”

She removed the cotton ball so she could look directly at him“You’re lucky.” Her eyes scanned over his face. He’d discarded his ripped suit and was clad only in his spandex pants he’d thankfully worn under it.

“Did Ivy kiss you?” She asked leaning forward

Dick smirked “No, why would you of been jealous if she ha—owe!!” He winced as she pulled the clear lip protectant off his lips. The sensation feeling as if someone had ripped a band-aid off quickly

“Nope!” She smiled triumphantly “Cause now I don’t feel bad doing that” she tossed the clear lip-shaped sticker into the garbage bin

Dick put his fingers to his lips and shot her a teasing glare

“But seriously Dick, if Bruce told you to buzz me in so you had back up why didn’t you?” She rested a hand on his knee

He shrugged “You were with your dad.”

Dick looked up locking eyes with her “And I know you’ve been missing spending time with him between Batgirl duties, school, him being busy with work....you’ve been talking about having the night off and going to the annual ‘Tri-City Police Father Daughter Dance’ for weeks. You got that pretty black dress, even went and got your nails done. And to call you in would mean you’d have to cancel or leave. It wouldn’t of only disappointed you but your dad as well.”

Barbara smiled, how was a guy who could take down the worst criminals, break guys' jaws and instill fear into some grown men be such a sweetheart. “Oh Dick, I’ve been going to those things since I was 2. And they’ll keep having them probably until I have my own kids” she laughed lightly “Then my dad drag my daughter to them.”

Dick shrugged “Or your husband, never know you could marry a cop.”

Barbara rose an eyebrow

Quickly the teenage boy changed the atmosphere “Pity the fool” he joked

Barbara stuck her tongue out “Way to ruin the moment” she nudged his shoulder

Dick looked down at her hand “I’m serious though-about not wanting to ruin your night. Yeah there will be other police father-daughter dances but Babs” he grabbed her hand to emphasize his point “you never know what could happen. I don’t want to scare you but-“ he looked down, closing his eyes

In the years she’d known Dick she’d come to find just how to calm him. She moved her hand from his hand to his cheek, stroking it lightly with her thumb “Hey, it’s okay” she whispered

Dick nodded “You have a father who loves you so much, Babs. Do you know what I’d give to have that back? Do you know how easily that can be taken from you? I just- I wanted you to have a night of memories with your dad. I didn’t even want to come here and have you bandage me but I had no other choice given I disobeyed Bruce’s orders by not buzzing you in for backup.”

She laughed lightly “Well I think I did a decent enough job not to draw suspicion. I just gotta do where Harley’s Hyenas scratched your chest and we will be good as new.”

Dick looked down at the scratch marks. They weren’t bad. With a clean-up and making sure he wore shirts around Bruce, they should be healed within the week's end.

“Thanks,” he said softly

Barbara let her hand fall from his cheek to the back of his neck “No thank you, you’re right I had a great time with my dad tonight. But please don’t ever hesitate to come to me for help. I don’t know what I’d do if you ever got hurt because I wasn’t there. Got it?” She narrowed her eyes

Dick held his hands up in mock defense “Got it”

[amillionsmiles]

in your bedroom after the war (Dick/Artemis)

Title: in your bedroom after the war Summary: As far as coping mechanisms go, Artemis could be doing worse. At least her method has a gymnast’s ass. / Post-Invasion, pre-Outsiders. Rated M.  A/N: I have one (1) agenda and that is messy grieving fuck buddies who are each other’s ride-or-dies. if you are not into fic that sits squarely in sad feral horny territory, then this is probably not your speed.

[Read and review here] or continue under the cut.  

| GOTHAM

| JANUARY 14, 2017; 12:05 AM EST

Artemis is a bit heavier than she was in her teenage years, but her feet land lightly on the fire escape by the window. An hour ago, she’d called her mom from Metropolis, promising she’d be home by midnight. Ever since her daughter faked her death a year ago, Paula Nguyen has become even more of a worrywart, and Artemis knows that the five minutes she’s running late are going to cause her to receive an earful.

“Didn’t think I’d see you back in this neck of the woods.” A familiar figure drops from the roof above onto the rung below her.

“Nightwing.”

She’s not surprised that he’s been keeping tabs. Officially, he’s been on a leave of absence for the past six months, but Dick, like her, is vigilant in his grief.

She’d come back to Gotham because it put her closer to Metropolis and Beta Squad’s continued investigation of LexCorp, but the truth is that she could have Zeta-tubed from Palo Alto easily. Their—her—apartment had been no good though, not without Wally. So she’d left most of her things in storage to figure out later and moved back in with her mom. On days when Artemis can’t muster the energy to get out of bed, Paula wheels determinedly around the kitchen, ready to whip up some mì xào  or a warm bowl of  mì gói.  They play card games and laugh about how bad Wally was at tiến lên the first time Paula tried to teach him. Your boy has no patience, he always wants to play his strongest cards right away, her mom had teased, and Wally had protested, I make it a rule to always put my best foot forward! and Artemis had loved him even more then.

Loved. Loves. She hates the past tense.

“I mean, were you ever going to ask me to grab coffee?”

She can see the bits of Wally in his cracks. In a room together, it was always easy to tell they were best friends from the way they riffed off each other. The acrobat and the speedster: all verbal gymnastics and fast-moving quips. But unlike Wally, who liked poking fun because he liked getting attention, Dick is at his wittiest when trying to avoid talking about himself.

Artemis reaches out and pulls him to sit down beside her. She makes a show of looking at her watch.

“How’s… 12:15 AM this Saturday?”

Dick pretends to check it against his mental schedule. If his is anything like hers, it probably goes: Wake up. Exercise (beating up bad guys counts). Mourn.

“Yeah, seems like I can swing it.”

“Perfect,” says Artemis, sliding up the glass panes to let them into her childhood bedroom. “I’ve got just the stuff.” 

*

In the kitchen, Brucely stirs briefly from his dog bed to sniff the air and  yip, then curls back asleep. Paula hands Dick a mug, waiting for him to take a sip before saying, “So you were the one who had the brilliant plan to have my daughter fake her death.” 

Dick splutters; from the table, Artemis rises to his defense. “Mom,” she says. “Leave him be.”

Setting his cup down, Dick leans against the cabinets, bending his head slightly and rubbing the back of his neck. He does a good job of appearing chastised, and Artemis wants to roll her eyes, if only because she’s heard from Bette and Raquel that this pose is far too effective at convincing women to want to forgive him or try again.

“I’m not leading much of anything these days, if that’s at all a comfort to you.”

“Hmph.” Paula sniffs. “You live alone?”

“Yeah.” Dick shoots Artemis a questioning look over her mom’s head. Artemis shrugs.

“What do you do to fill the time?”

“A lot of reading. Gotham’s library system actually has a pretty good selection, believe it or not. I’ve also gotten really into meditating.”

“And you don’t sleep.”

Dick stiffens. For the first time, he looks exposed, a boy with too much guilt and too much time on his hands.

“I do. Tonight I was just… restless.”

Paula nods and backs up her wheelchair so she can sit by Artemis, curling her fingers over Artemis’s hand and squeezing. She raises her drink, Artemis and Dick following suit, the three of them toasting to invisible losses.

“Aren’t we all.”

*

Later, back on the fire escape, Dick taps his fingers against the railing, jittery. “I feel like I need to start doing jumping jacks. What was in that stuff?”

Artemis bites back a smile. “Yeah, Vietnamese coffee packs a hit. That’s my bad. Probably should have given you something non-caffeinated at this hour.”

“It’s fine. I’ll jog it out, or something.” He turns to go, but Artemis stops him with a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey, listen—it was good seeing you tonight. And if you need someone to talk to…” What she really means is: it’d be nice to be around someone who’s hurting as much as I am. Not to say that the rest of the team wasn’t as torn up over Wally’s death, but she and Dick had been ground zero. Closest to the blast.

After a pause, Dick nods. “Yeah… I could use a sparring partner, actually. I’ll send you an address.”

“Okay.” Satisfied, Artemis withdraws her hand, curling her fingers into her palm.

It feels like a start.

*

Dick’s directions lead Artemis to Wayne Manor; from there he takes her to the Bat Cave.

“I thought you were striking out on your own,” Artemis says, using her forearms to deflect a kick to her face. Dick grunts and recovers, throwing a punch to her stomach; she dances out of the way.

“I am. I just pop in here from time to time because Bruce has better equipment. Plus there’s less of a chance of me disturbing the neighbors.” He gestures to the eerily blue-lit stone walls around them.

Artemis feints and goes low, ducking under Dick’s guard. Two quick hits to Dick’s sternum pushes him back, before he gets a hand on her wrist and twists her around so that her back is pressed against his chest.

“Weren’t we supposed to be talking?”

Kicking his shin, Artemis breaks free. “All right, fine. I’ll start.”  Jab.  “I keep wanting a scapegoat.”  Kick.  “Like, one person to blame, instead of something as big as the Reach. But it’s not some giant revenge thing, and I know Wally wouldn’t want me to go down that sort of all-consuming rabbit hole even if it was, and that pisses. Me. Off.” On those last words, she manages to use Dick’s momentum against him and flips him over her shoulder.

For a minute, it’s so quiet between them she can hear the faint plip of water dripping from a stalactite into the water below the sparring dais. Still lying on the floor, Dick confesses, “I keep hearing him.”

“I make a joke to myself and he’s there, in my ear, with the punchline. And then…” He passes a hand over his face.  “And then I realize that the real punchline is him being gone.”

Slowly, Artemis approaches him. She feels like she did when they were undercover at Haly’s circus so many years ago, that brief moment of hangtime before their hands connected in the air. She means to sit down next to him, pat his shoulder, she doesn’t know what, but instead Dick sweeps her legs out from under her and she goes down hard, the air whooshing out of her chest as she falls flat on her back.

“Agh!” The release sets something loose inside her. Next thing she knows, she’s yelling again, louder, just because.

Dick catches on and then it’s just the two of them shouting, their voices echoing through the cavern, threading around and piling atop each other like a flock of birds. After they’re done, Dick rolls so that they’re lying side by side.

“You know, when we were starting out—when we first became friends—I used to make fun of Wally that if he kept talking so much while running he was bound to swallow more bugs, or something. And he’d just shoot back like, ‘Nah dude, you think I’m not fast enough to see them and dodge them in the air?’ But you know how he was always so hungry after missions? One time I was so mad at him I put a bug in his sandwich. I’ve never forgotten the look on his face after he bit into it and I said, dodge that.”

“You didn’t.” Artemis gasps and covers her mouth, horrified, but she can see it so vividly: the colors draining from Wally’s face, making his freckles pop even more against his skin, the same greenish tint his cheeks took the time they went to Vietnam and he got food poisoning. He’d spent two days feverishly glaring up at the mosquito netting, and Artemis had draped cold hand towels over his forehead and promised she wasn’t going to leave him for the very obliging boy who kept bringing them ice.

“I did.” Dick is gleeful. “Really put the ‘rank’ in prank.”  

Artemis snorts; the snort turns into a full-blown guffaw. Dick turns toward her, laughing too. His hair is matted with sweat but still soft; it brushes against her forehead.

It feels so good to be close to someone again, to be able to flip on a dime from sadness to frustration to anger to laughter and not have to explain herself. She can’t remember the last time she smiled and didn’t feel guilty about it, and she means it more affectionately than anything when she reaches over and brings Dick’s mouth to hers, like if she inhales whatever they’ve temporarily managed to create here between them, it’ll be enough to tide her over for the next few months. For a second, he’s warm and responsive, before his lips stiffen and he pulls back.

“I shouldn’t have done that.”

Shouldn’t, couldn’t, wouldn’t.  Shouldn’t beat yourself up about it, shouldn’t blame yourself for getting back in the game.  Artemis is sick of people telling her how to deal, how it’s supposed to go.  It’ll get better and then it doesn’t. People talk like there are guidebooks for this kind of shit, like it’s a marathon she just needs to pace herself through. And it’s the stupidest thing, but she misses being held.

She sits up and crosses her arms, resisting the urge to curl in on herself. “You didn’t do anything. I’ll go.”

“No, Artemis, wait, I don’t think you should go, I just want to understand what’s going on—”

“I want you to touch me, okay?” she explodes. “I want you to touch me because he’s never going to again and I know you loved him too and—and maybe if it’s you, I won’t feel so desperately alone.”

Dick looks stricken, and then, hesitantly, he reaches for her. His eyes are so blue, the kind of crushed eggshell you’d use to make a paint. “You’re not alone.”

“Prove it,” she says, vision blurring with tears—wanting, needing him closer, and then his hairline is up against hers again and his nose is at her cheek, his mouth at her jaw, soft but with a willingness to bruise. Don’t ask me what we’re about to do, Artemis silently begs, and Dick doesn’t.

 *

 Wally had been a restless lover. Always turning them over, switching positions. Artemis had taken it as a challenge, part of the ongoing competition that defined their relationship. Deep down, she’d known that Wally would be just as content if the rest of their sex life consisted solely of spooning gently on Sundays, which, if anything, was why she’d been so eager to experiment—because it felt like an easy gift she could give, not something she had to master to “maintain excitement” or make him stay.

She’s not sure what she expected from Dick. Maybe that’s a comfort—that she wasn’t fantasizing before they happened, wondering about all the mechanics of how it would go. Dick lets her call the shots, lets her ride him into the ground, the grip of his fingers around her thighs the only reminder she isn’t just angling toward oblivion. When he presses his thumb between her legs, it’s a weird sort of anchor—like hearing a voice pick up on a line you thought was dead. She has a body, and here’s someone on the other end of it, caring about her release. As soon as that thought hits, the relief shudders through her; she keeps rocking long enough to feel Dick follow, a stutter and a grunt, before she collapses boneless over him, the sweat of his skin a comforting stickiness against her cheek.

Internally, she apologizes to Bruce for desecrating his training space. Then again, they’re hardly the first of the Justice League to get handsy in less than appropriate places. She’s seen how Black Canary and Green Arrow act around each other.

Below her, Dick catches his breath. The rush of blood—his or hers—is loud in her ears.

“I didn’t think you’d be so…”  Giving, she means to say, but it gets lost on her tongue. “I mean, Zatanna…” she trails off again.

If Dick’s embarrassed at the prospect of his ex-girlfriend having blabbed about the details of their sex life to Artemis, he doesn’t show it. His fingers find a snag in her hair; gently, he works it loose. The air smells hedonistic. He keeps combing. Nice is the only word she can think to describe it, and that makes her want to cry again, so she squeezes her eyes shut.

“Thank you,” she whispers against his chest.

Dick pauses his ministrations. He flattens his palm against the base of her neck and just—holds her there.

“Don’t mention it.”  

When she goes home that afternoon to shower, she runs the water on full blast for a long time.

 *

 Armed with Chinese food, she visits Dick’s place the next day intent on making amends. Dick doesn’t even act surprised; he just points to the glass coffee table where she can set the bag of chopsticks, napkins, and takeout.

“I’m trying to decide what to watch.”

There’s really no need for him to stand in front of the TV the way he does, one hand propped on his hip as he clicks through options with the remote. Artemis lets herself ogle, a bit. The surest way to blow past what happened between them yesterday is to be honest with herself, right? And as far as coping mechanisms go, Artemis could have done worse. At least her method has a gymnast’s ass.

“Any preferences?”

“Between what?” asks Artemis, cracking open the carton of lo mein and settling back against the cushions. The Netflix suggestion algorithm onscreen paints a condemning picture of Dick’s tastes. “True crime or… true crime?”

Wally had been really into nature documentaries. One time during freshman year, when they were still living on Stanford’s campus, they’d gotten high in Wally’s dorm room and watched Blue Planet. Wally had cried when the seal got flung apart by killer whales.

“I’ll Be Gone in the Dark it is, then,” says Dick. He settles next to her on the couch, peeling back one of the orders and sniffing its contents. “What’s this one?”

“Salt and pepper ribs. They were today’s special.”

“Artemis.” Dick beams. “You really do care about me.”

 *

 Ten minutes into the episode begs a single question: “Isn’t it sort of depressing that you spend so much of your day fighting crime, and then you go home to unwind and just watch… more of it?”

Dick shrugs. “It keeps me sharp. And it’s nice seeing other people solve problems.”

“Well, if you ever feel like branching out, there’s a short film about Rubik’s cubes you might like.” Artemis nudges his side. “Remember when you were a scrawny math geek?”

Bringing both hands behind his head, Dick smirks. “Still a math geek. Just not scrawny.”

Artemis stares. That was just a bit of friendly showboating, right? Or was it a flirt? Not trusting herself, she whips her gaze back toward the TV. What feels like eons later, the credits roll.

“Artemis,” Dick says, too soft for having just finished a show about murder. He taps the corner of his mouth. “You’ve got some food stuck.”

She wipes with the back of her hand; a breaded piece of orange chicken emerges as the culprit. Without thinking, she flicks it off, sending it flying somewhere onto Dick’s carpet.

“Oops.”

Chuckling, Dick shakes his head. “I need to vacuum tomorrow, anyways.”

The mention of tomorrow stirs her. “Right. I should head out.”

“Yeah.” Dick rises to help her clean up their mess, holding open the plastic bag so she can toss in the soiled napkins and other bits of trash. “Or—”

He hesitates, but the hesitation’s enough. It might as well be a hand on her wrist, with how it stops her in her tracks. All night, despite what she told herself, she’s been looking for proof: proof that his aloneness fits the shape of hers, that he needs her, too. This time, Dick makes the first move—cups her face in both hands and kisses her, slow and deep and full of heat. Some pepper from the food they ate still lingers on his lips, making her mouth tingle, and Artemis is dizzy and flat on her back on the couch before she knows it, giving in.

Not scrawny at all, she thinks, admiring the solidness of Dick’s knees on either side of her, the weight of his frame as they grind together. The sheer mechanics of it feel very horny-teenager-after-prom, but the way Dick sucks her bottom lip and swallows her breath down with it is decidedly adult.  These days, Artemis practically lives in her sports bra, which doesn’t exactly grant easy access, but when Dick’s fingertips skim over the cotton covering her breasts the sensation zings all the way down her spine.

“Need… off…”

“Yeah,” Dick murmurs, humming as he moves down the column of her neck. “Gimme a sec, I’m working on it.”

She’d worn sweats because she figured their bagginess would keep her from sparring again and any potential… situations that could arise from that. Instead, all it means is Dick unties the drawstrings easily, sliding her pants down her legs. Cool air brushes across her as he shifts positions; she wants to sob in relief. His teeth graze her hip and then catch the edge of her panties and—oh. Fuck. The moan tears out of her and she scrabbles at the armrest, hips rising of their own accord. Next time, she is handcuffing Dick to a bed, because what he’s doing with his tongue and fingers should be illegal. She can feel him grinning, the bastard, and the only thing keeping her from crushing his head to a pulp between her thighs is the maneuver he pulls where he hooks her knees over his shoulders, so he can change the angle and plunge in deeper. Artemis shoves the edge of her T-shirt into her mouth at the last minute, only barely managing to muffle her cry.

Dick surfaces from his solo mission looking entirely too satisfied, mouth glistening. Trembling, still, from her orgasm, Artemis squints at him, possessed by some combination of unbridled lust and rage.

“Dick.”

“You calling, or asking?”

“Shut up,” she hisses. She feels like a newborn foal, after what he just did to her, but the urge to dismantle him just as thoroughly sends her surging upward and pushing him back. Dick welcomes their reversed positions by peeling off his shirt and tossing it over his shoulder, all while Artemis works furiously at his belt. It shouldn’t feel so good, to hear the metal clink against his button and watch the leather slide through the loops. To see the shadows the light of the TV casts on him—the lashes on his cheeks, the hollow of his throat. Artemis hadn’t paid much attention the first time, too desperate and caught up a bit in self-loathing, but now she’s actually enjoying this, savoring the flex of Dick’s abs as he pushes up to meet her, his skin pebbling at her touch.

“I’m going to take you apart,” she purrs.

Dick groans and bucks. The sensation sends a sharp spike of pleasure through her, and she clamps down on him tighter, refusing to yield.

“Try me, Tigress,” he rasps, pushing himself up on one arm so he can mouth at her collarbone. With his other hand, he pulls off her hairtie so her hair comes free of her ponytail, and this is going to be a thing with him, isn’t it, him wanting to fuck her while her hair swings loose around her face. She indulges him for a few minutes, claws his back and bites his shoulder for good measure, but then she’s pushing him back down and stretching out her body as languidly as possible to remind him who’s boss. Their pace slows. Dick keeps a hand fisted in her hair, so he can tug her head back in order to keep her neck exposed to his wanton mouth, but his grip gets less sure the closer she pushes him to the edge.

“Art—” says Dick, the single syllable like a painting pinned to the wall, fraught with desire, and then he just lets it drop, the tresses of her hair falling through his fingers. She wants to tell him that he’s beautiful, that he does look like a boy wonder, right then, in the midst of coming undone, chest flushed and hair mussed and pupils blown nearly wide enough to overtake the blue.

She doesn’t, but she stays the night, and that’s close enough.

 *

  High-functioning, Artemis’s therapist had called her, before Artemis moved back to Gotham. And it does feel like a high—the sneaking around, the after-hours meet-ups, the back-and-forth. There’s no one really keeping tabs on her, though Artemis has plenty of cover stories if anyone asks (new intel, side reconnaissance, etcetera, etcetera). Her mom eyes her and says, “As long as you’re not planning on staging your own death again, because I will find out and I will kill you this time,” and that’s that. Artemis nearly laughs. If anything, what she’s doing is the opposite, a small resurrection. An entire month and a half passes this way: day trips and dinners and movie nights and Dick and her in a bathtub, in the shower, against a wall. She even wears a gown and heels once, not because they have an actual event to attend, but because Dick has a fantasy that involves taking her from behind in the Wayne Manor library.

They’re in his apartment on a Sunday morning bathing in the afterglow, sheets tangled around their waists. Thank god Dick is one of those assholes that splurged on not only a nice mattress but also a solid bed frame. Artemis reaches over to push the hair out of his eyes. The black tuft on the back of his head that she likes grabbing is fluffed up like a duck's tail, and under the sunlight slanting through the windows, he looks angelic.

“Are you falling back asleep?”

Yawning, Dick snags her around the waist, dragging her to him. She should not delight this much in being manhandled.

“You wore me out,” he complains, tucking his chin over her shoulder.

“They just don’t make them like they used to,” Artemis sighs. Dick growls a little at the dig, fingers tightening against her hip.

Well. If he’s going to nap, she is, too. Comfortably spooned, she snuggles back against him, prepared to drift off.

“Do you think Wally would have wanted…” Dick doesn’t finish the thought.

Artemis turns in his arms. Dick has long eyelashes, and he’s looking at her through them almost bashfully. She places a hand on his chest. Feels his heartbeat thump once, twice.

“I think he would want us to be happy.”

“Are you?” Dick’s voice fades out and he has to swallow hard to clear his throat. “Happy?”

“I’m not… miserable.” 

Dick runs his hand up her bare arm, over her shoulder. “Me neither.”

“You know, Wally and I thought…” She bites her lip, remembering a whoosh of air, Wally speeding to her side to kiss her and interrupting her report on the disabled Paris MFD.  I know we promised each other we’d get out of this game, but maybe we can have our life together and play hero, too.  “We thought we’d have everything.”

Dick’s response isn’t mournful; it’s matter-of-fact. “After my parents died, I never really convinced myself that I could have it all.”

“That sounds like something Batman would say.”

“Does it?”

“A little.”

Once upon a time, Artemis had stood before the team ready to lay bare her darkest secret, waiting to be kicked out. And Dick had shown his hand: he’d known from the beginning and hadn’t cared.  You aren’t your family. You’re one of us. She knows he’s second-guessed himself over the years, wondering how fit he actually is to play leader. But for her, trust has always been the easiest thing about the two of them. It was why she’d said yes so easily to his deep cover mission—because she knew that he wouldn’t quit until he’d brought all of them home, that he would do whatever he could to keep them safe.

Taking his face in both her hands, she looks deep into his eyes. “You deserve good things, Dick Grayson.”

“Mm.” Dick smiles into her kiss, hooks his ankle over hers. “Keep telling me that. I’ll start to believe it.”

 *

 Jade abandons Will and Lian on a Tuesday, and Artemis’s carefully crafted equilibrium falls apart. At least this time she’s not the one directly being left, unlike when she was a teenager. Her expectations of her older sister had hardly been high, but if she’d plotted them on a graph they’d have trended upward. Now they’ve tanked.

“Did she leave any hint of where she was going?” Dick asks over the whir of his juicer. He’s gotten really into squeezing oranges lately; Artemis can’t complain because he always gives her the first glass.

“It’s Jade. She never wants to be found, and I hardly think she’s about to try an  Eat Pray Love type thing.”

“Eat Slash Steal, maybe?” Dick offers, dropping two ice cubes into a drink and setting it in front of her.

Artemis sips, balling up a napkin and throwing it at him at the same time. “Watch it, that’s still my family you’re talking about.”

“I’m sorry. How’s Will taking it?”

“As well as any dad trying to raise a two-year-old by himself would.”

“So, poorly.” Dick taps his finger against the table. “Are they coming here?”

Artemis looks at him blankly. “Why?”

“I figured they might want to be closer to you and your mom now that Jade’s gone. Gotham’s not so bad—you and I turned out fine. And Will probably needs to look into preschools and a babysitter for Lian soon. If you move in with me, you can bring her over whenever.”

The last piece of information slips in so casually she thinks she’s misheard. “What?”

“If you move in with me, you can bring Lian over whenever,” repeats Dick. “This place is as good as yours. You’re over here all the time anyway.”

Suddenly, she can’t breathe. “You’re serious.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

She can’t meet his eyes. “W—Will’s home is in Star City. He’s not going to move.”

Slowly, Dick says, “Okay. But my offer doesn’t really depend on Will.”

Her stuff is still in boxes. She’s still paying for a storage unit almost 3,000 miles away. And Dick is waiting on her so intently it makes her chest hurt.

Artemis stands up. “We’re not doing this.”

Dick’s eyebrows rise. Annoyance, or maybe anger, flickers across his face. “You wanna fill me in on what exactly it is we’re doing, according to you?”

“We’re not going to fight about this like we’re…”  In a relationship. In love. In anything other than a messy configuration started by shared grief. She doesn’t say any of it out loud, but she doesn’t need to—Dick’s always been great at reading people, and he’s known all her tells from the start.

“Right.”  The single syllable comes out as cold and pointed as an icicle. He pushes his chair back from the table and stands up. The clouds are rolling in, throwing shadows across his features. Even now, Artemis wants to kiss him, wants to be the one to smooth the furrow between his eyebrows away.

“Dick…”

“Do me a favor, will you?” Dick grabs his jacket from the hook by his door, shrugging it on. He pauses, briefly, in the doorway. “Lock my door on the way out.”  

That night, she lies alone in her bedroom next to the picture of her, Wally, and Brucely. Brucely snuffles at the foot of her bed and then leaps onto the covers, and this time she doesn’t shoo him off. Neither does she fall asleep.

 *

 There was a song Jade had liked to sing, passed down from their mother: a Vietnamese lullaby about a yellow butterfly, to the tune of “Frère Jacques.” The butterfly flies all over the sky. Come and see. Come and see. When it became clear that Artemis’s hair would grow in blond, not black, Jade started pulling it, making her giggle. You’re the yellow butterfly, see?

The taxicab she calls for the airport is bright yellow in the morning light. Plain old civilian travel for plain old civilian business. You don’t need to be a superhero to fly across the country and move in with your brother-in-law and your niece. She’ll sing silly little songs and wash Lian’s hair, and they’ll be a family same as anyone else’s: clumsy, incomplete.

“Artemis.” Dick coalesces out of the fog. They haven’t seen or spoken to each other in a week, and she should be mad that he’s here because it probably means he’s been monitoring her web traffic and caught wind she’d bought plane tickets. Still, all she feels is relief.

Jade had laughed when Artemis had let slip what she was doing during one rare sisterly bonding moment. “Oh, darling sister, your thing with your little bird boy isn’t about moving on. You’re using him as a holding pattern. Try not to damage him too much, hm?” Rankled, Artemis had hung up the phone—what did Jade know about anything, besides shoving it under the rug and pretending it didn’t matter? Now, though, Artemis sees things more clearly. Jade did know something about bodies and what they could and couldn’t fix; after all, isn’t that why she ran?

She worries with the strap of her duffel bag, letting Dick approach.

“If this were a romcom, you would have waited until I got to the airport and then run through security.”

“If this were a romcom,” says Dick, stopping in front of her and shoving his hands in his pockets, “I’d be trying to make you stay.”

She thinks he might be the one person left on this planet who knows her best. She thinks they could save each other, if they’d let themselves try. But they each have work to do on their own, first.

Setting down her bag, she tucks her face into the crook of his neck and breathes him in. Wherever else she goes, this spot will always feel like forgiveness. Nose buried in her hair, Dick squeezes her back.

The taxi driver rolls down his window. “Is this guy coming with us or not?”

Artemis pulls back, and there’s so much sky in Dick’s eyes.

“You know where to find me,” she says.

 *

 | STAR CITY

| JULY 29, 2018; 7:30 AM PST

 “Who are you here to recruit this time?” Will asks, leaning against the doorframe, but Artemis doesn’t need an answer, doesn’t need any details but the black hair she can see just over Will’s shoulder, Dick’s voice at the end of a line.

He jumps, and she jumps with him. They’ll figure out everything else as they go.

Before Dick can respond, she says: “I’m in.”

[superblizzardfire]

The Surprise Gift (Bruce & Kamala)

(AO3 Link)

Kamala wasn’t expecting any presents for her seventeenth birthday. But the universe gave her a surprise one anyway…

‘Food poisoning,’ she gasped, shaking as she knelt over the toilet. ‘Figures.’

‘I suspect the pre-packaged egg mayonnaise sandwiches were to blame, Miss Khan,’ said JARVIS.

‘Yeah, I thought they tasted funny.’ She’d woken up feeling nauseous, taken one sip of water and immediately dashed to the bathroom to throw up. Now she gripped the cold metal of the bowl and unleashed a second wave, the burning in her throat bringing tears to her eyes. It was her own fault. But supply runs were inconsistent, and they had to eat when they could.

On the plus side, at least she was throwing up in a bathroom on the Chimera, the iconic helicarrier that was once home to the Avengers (and now housed only one).

‘Shall I inform Doctor Banner?’ asked JARVIS.

‘No! God no, I don’t want him to see me like this!’ Sweat-soaked hair and vomit-stained Captain America pyjamas. Not a good look, and she’d already embarrassed herself in front of one of her childhood heroes this week. She’d been singing along to Cheap Thrills in her room, not realising that she was broadcasting herself through the whole ship. She hadn’t been able to meet Bruce's eye for the rest of the day.

For the last three weeks, they’d been searching for Tony Stark. JARVIS kept bringing up false leads, so they travelled from country to country, flying out in the Quinjet for supply runs and reconnaissance missions. It sounded like something from Kamala’s most self-indulgent fanfics: a secret mission where she and Doctor Banner set out to reassemble the Avengers, five years after they were split apart. It was literally the coolest thing that had ever happened to her… except it wasn’t turning out to be as fun as she’d hoped.

When she’d vomited up what felt like everything she had, Kamala clambered up and flushed away the eggy mess before rinsing out her mouth. The Chimera wasn’t fully operational yet: no hot water, and everything was filmed with dust. She stared at herself in the mirror, panting. Yup, she looked like an absolute mess. On her birthday. This sucked.

‘Uh, hey Kamala? Are you up?’ Bruce's voice echoed through the room.

Crap. ‘Morning, Bruce!’ she said brightly, then shut her eyes tightly as the room seemed to spin around her. ‘What’s up?’

‘I’m just running a few tests on those energy weapons we found. I could use a hand, if you’ve got a minute?’ Bruce always seemed to think he was being a bother. He could make “pass the salt” sound like he was asking a huge favour. ‘Only if you’re not busy.’

‘Sure thing,’ she gasped. ‘I’ll be right – oh god – ‘ She lurched back to the toilet as another wave of nausea swept over her. With nothing left to bring up, her stomach clenched painfully.

‘Are you okay? Kamala?’

But she couldn’t reply. Her breath came in harsh sobs through gritted teeth. She was trying so hard to do her job here, to help Bruce find the Avengers and to hold her own in the fighting. But she didn’t feel like an adult. She felt like a scared kid in disguise. And now she felt like death, it was difficult to maintain that charade.

The beep of the door unlocking was the only warning she got before Bruce ran into the room. ‘What happened? Are you okay?’

‘I’m fine, it’s just food poisoning. I’ll be down in a minute, I promise.’ She squinted up at him. Bruce wore his usual purple shirt and pants (Hulk had ruined at least five of those shirts, how many did he have?) with his glasses perched on the end of his nose. His arms were folded as he stared down at her in concern.

He sighed. ‘I told you not to eat the egg sandwiches.’

‘You ate them just fine.’

‘Well, I’m immune to food poisoning. You’re not. And you’re not coming down to the lab, okay? You need to rest.’ He spoke gently, but she still felt she’d let him down somehow. ‘Take the day off.’

They couldn’t afford to take days off. They needed to find Tony. Now because of her they’d be behind. Black Widow would have been stronger than this. Anyone other than Kamala would be stronger than this. But she felt so awful that she just said in a small voice, ‘Okay.’

‘Okay,’ Bruce echoed. Then he started backing out of the door. ‘I’m just gonna go… do some things. Can I um, get you anything? Bring you anything?’

Kamala burst into tears.

‘Hey, it’s gonna be okay.’ Bruce crossed the room and knelt beside her, all awkwardness momentarily forgotten.

‘I’m sorry, it’s just – so hard sometimes,’ she sobbed. ‘I want to go home and see my family and just have a normal life, and I know I can’t because we have a job to do and – ‘

‘You’re allowed to want those things. You’re only human.’

Except she wasn’t, was she? Not quite. She was a human with superpowers, and that meant she had a responsibility to protect others. But right now she wasn’t sure she could even protect herself. The tears kept coming, and her chest shuddered with uneven breaths. She wanted to curl up on the cold bathroom floor and pass out.

She swayed, and Bruce held her shoulder to steady her. ‘You’re going to burn yourself out. No one can be on top form all the time. I’m pretty useless for days after Hulking out, and you don’t judge me for it. I think you’re allowed to have a bad day.’

Kamala leaned forward and hid her face in his shoulder. He stiffened in surprise, then hesitantly wrapped his arms around her in a hug. ‘It’s my birthday,’ she sniffled.

‘Today? Why didn’t you tell me?’

‘Didn’t want it to be a big deal. We’ve got bigger things to worry about.’ She closed her eyes, knowing that her forehead would feel hot against his shoulder.

Bruce's low, gentle voice rumbled in her ear. ‘Okay. You’re going to stay here and get some rest, doctor’s orders. JARVIS can keep an eye on you. Can you stand?’

She could, but leaned heavily on him as he helped her walk back to bed. ‘Sorry I got sick on your shirt,’ she mumbled.

‘I’ve got plenty of spares, don’t worry.’ He brought her a cup of water and an empty bucket from the pile in the corner of the room. ‘Call me if you need anything, okay?’

‘Thanks, Bruce.’ She lay down and drew the blankets over herself. Bruce lingered a few moments longer, clearly searching for something else to say, then awkwardly edged out of the room. Kamala gazed out of the window until she fell asleep.

When she woke up, it was afternoon. Her head hurt and her mouth tasted awful, but the nausea seemed to have passed. She checked her phone and found birthday messages from family and friends, which raised her spirits a little. When she reached for the water beside the bed, there was a packet of plain crackers and some ibuprofen there too. Bruce must have returned to check on her.

Then Kamala spotted the parcel at the foot of the bed.

A slow smile grew on her face as she picked it up. It was thick and rectangular, and wrapped in thin graph paper from the lab. An effort had been made to liven it up with stars drawn in blue and red ballpoint pen.

She unwrapped it slowly. It was a thick, spiralbound notebook. The edges of the paper had been coloured neon blue (presumably using a salvaged highlighter), and the front cover had been replaced with a homemade one: a printed photograph from five years ago. A smiling Kamala posed with the Avengers whilst coloured streamers fell around them. It was one of the best memories of her life, and despite the events that had occurred after it, the sight still made her smile. ‘Thanks, Bruce,’ she whispered.

When she turned to the first page, there was a message written in small, neat script:

 Happy Birthday Kamala! I hope this comes in useful. You’re an amazing writer, don’t forget how far you’ve come.

Bruce

 Writing had always been Kamala’s passion, although since they’d embarked on their Avengers quest she hadn’t given it much thought. She certainly hadn’t entertained any fanfiction ideas; it felt weirder to write it when you knew the characters you were writing about. Maybe she could try something new, though.

She dug out a pen from her bag. Even the simple weight of a notebook in her lap brought her a comforting familiarity. That even aboard the Chimera, far from home, she could slip away into a world of her choosing. No bad guys to fight or buildings to destroy. Just the simple act of creating something for the fun of it.

Kamala clicked her pen, snuggled down under the covers, and began to write.

[alexiessan]

Never alone - Chapter Eighteen - Soulmate AU

AO3

Previous - Here - Next

Master List

Marinette was at Kim’s house with her two childhood friends the day after Christmas. They exchanged gifts like they did every year — new headphones for Nino and a sports watch for Kim — and played video games while drinking hot chocolate and eating Mrs. Lê Chien’s famous gingerbread.

She was in the middle of beating Kim at UMSIII when she noticed that Nino seemed down. He wasn’t as happy as usual and was withdrawing from them a little.

She decided to ask him after the game was over.

“You ok there?”

Nino looked up at her and Kim looked at his friend too, frowning at the DJ.

“Yeah, you’ve been acting weird the whole time.”

The bespectacled boy sighed, fidgeting a little.

“I hate that I can’t hide anything from you guys.”

He played with his cap, a nervous tic he had ever since he started wearing caps.

“Something happened. Something huge, and I don’t know what to do.”

Kim and Marinette were silent, waiting for Nino to find the courage to tell them what he needed to.

The fashion designer had an idea about what happened, though.

“I… I met my soulmate,” he said. “You know how my soulbond is that I get things that my soulmate lost? And vice versa? Well, a while back, I lost my favorite cap, and the other day, I saw a girl wearing it.”

She heard Kim silently gasp next to her.

“So I went to her and asked how she got it and she told me that her soulmate lost it. When I told her it was mine, she was a bit skeptical, so I told her about things I got from her and… Yeah. She’s my soulmate. Her name is Léa.”

They were silent after that, not knowing if they should congratulate him or not. They knew that Nino loved Alya, but a soulmate changed everything.

“Is it romantic or platonic?”

Their friend looked at them, his eyes so sad it broke Marinette’s heart.

“Romantic,” he answered.

The fashion designer hugged him close to her.

“Have you told Alya yet?”

She felt him shake his head no. Releasing him, he said:

“I thought that I would wait until we got back to school to tell her. I… I have a lot to think of, and I love Alya with all my heart, so I don’t want to end things on a bad note. So yeah, I need to think very carefully about the way I’ll tell her.”

Nino looked at her then, almost pleading.

“Can you not tell her, please?”

The Eurasian girl smiled sadly at him.

“You know I won’t. It’s not my business to tell.”

She took his hand, squeezing it a little.

“I know you’ll do your best to not hurt her too much. And, you know, I think Alya saw it coming. She’s been having a bad feeling for a while now.”

“Yeah, I know, she told me.”

Kim patted his back.

“I’m sure the two of you will still be friends after that.”

Nino let out a strangled laugh, tears coming out of his eyes.

“I hope so.”

Marinette didn’t realize that she has missed Gotham until the plane landed. While Paris was a beautiful city full of art and history, she was born there and has seen everything.

Gotham was different. There was so much she hadn’t seen there, so much she had yet to learn about this city.

Unfortunately, she wouldn’t be there long enough to visit much, but there would always be next time!

It took a long time to find her suitcase and people around her were eager to get out of the airport and were pushing her out of the way, so she decided to let them get their luggage first so she wouldn’t have to deal with them.

Rude, really, but she could understand how they wanted to get out of here as soon as possible.

Suitcase retrieved, Marinette looked for Damian, as he promised that he would pick her up. She smiled as she saw him, a sign with her name on it. He was next to a man in his sixties-seventies and recognized him instantly even if she’s never met him. It was Alfred Pennyworth, the man that was a grandfather for the Wayne boys in everything but blood.

She hugged Damian, kissing his cheek in greetings, and turned to Alfred.

“Hello, mister. I’m Marinette Dupain-Cheng. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

She extended her hand and he took it, shaking it.

“It’s nice to meet you too, Miss Dupain-Cheng. I’m Alfred Pennyworth. You may call me by my name.”

“Alright, please, call me Marinette too!” She smiled at him.

She felt Damian take her suitcase from her.

“Is it all you have?” He asked.

“Yeah, I packed lightly,” she said.

He took her hand, leading her to the exit.

“Come on, Jason has been exciting to finally meet you. He wouldn’t shut up about it.”

“You’re shorter than I think you would be.”

Jason — or Red Hood, as she had known him under his alias until now — has always been teasing her during her video calls with Robin, and she always gave back as much as she got, but she wasn’t expecting him to tease her about her height.

She knew she was short, alright? She wasn’t the shortest, but she wasn’t tall either, and, yeah, standing next to Jason, she felt ridiculous.

No, really, anyone would laugh at them if they saw them standing next to each other. She could only imagine Alix standing next to Jason, it would be even more ridiculous.

“Excuse me? I can’t hear you from all the way down there.”

She heard Tim laugh somewhere behind Jason, but she couldn’t see him. Really, the second son of the Wayne family was huge.

Jason laughed at her, ruffling her hair.

“It’s nice to finally meet you, munchkin.”

“Ha. Ha. Nicknames about my size, don’t you have anything original?”

She smiled, though, not offended at all. She always got those kinds of nicknames from Kim, anyway. The guy was way too tall for his own good too.

Speaking of tall people — or tall and huge things in general — the dog that was running toward her was huge too. And it wasn’t stopping.

Before she could understand was happening, she was on her butt on the floor, a huge Great Dane licking her face.

“Titus!”

The designer laughed.

“Now, I like this kind of welcome.”

She petted the dog for a bit before getting up with Jason’s help. She greeted Dick with a smile and started a conversation with Tim, happy to see him after almost two years.

They spent the whole afternoon talking, and she did her best to fight the sleep, being jet-lagged. She wanted to wait until after dinner to sleep though, she was having such a good time with Damian and his brothers.

She met Bruce at said dinner since he had an emergency at Wayne Enterprises.

“It’s good to properly meet you, Marinette.”

“It’s nice to meet you too, Mister Wayne. Thank you for sending help in Paris.”

“Of course, we couldn’t just let it happen.”

Dinner was pleasant, and she learned more about Damian while observing his family. Dick was obviously the more outgoing among them, and seeing as Bruce didn’t express himself much, she could see how Damian struggled with his emotions.

The food was delicious, Alfred was a great cook and Marinette couldn’t remember eating a better meal in her life.

She would never tell that to her parents, though. But they were still the best when it came to dessert and baked goods.

It was the next day, lying in bed next to Damian trying to sleep that she decided to confront him.

Just like Nino a few days ago, Damian was acting weird and anxious, to the point that she could feel it from him, making her unable to fall asleep.

“What’s wrong?”

He looked at her then, and she could guess the frown on his face. Whatever it was that he was thinking about, it was not good.

“I have something to tell you.”

She moved, choosing to sit so she could face him instead of lying down.

“Okay. Should I be worried?”

“It’s not about us, per se, it’s about me. About things that I haven’t tell you yet.”

She relaxed a little, relieved that it wasn’t about their relationship.

“Okay,” she breathed. “I’m listening. Take your time.”

She heard him move and suddenly, there was light coming from the lamp on his bedside table. Good, it was less awkward now that she could properly see him.

“It’s about my past. I never told you about my mother, right?”

She shook her head no.

“I’ve been living with her until I was ten. Then I was living with my father and I’ve only seen her once since moving in with my father.”

He paused, looking for the right words.

“My mother is not a good person. Neither was my grandfather or anyone I knew back then. I wasn’t a good person either. Can’t say I’m a good person now, though.”

She opened her mouth to protest but he stopped her.

“Don’t  misunderstand. I’m a much better person than I was back then, but I’m not quite there yet. But I will be.”

She thought that he was already there but didn’t see it yet. She hoped he would see it soon.

“My mother and grandfather raised me… trained me to do things… bad things. Really bad things. And I never thought twice about it. I did everything they asked of me, and I didn’t see anything wrong with it. It was normal for me.”

Damian didn’t say the words, but she had a good idea of what the bad things were. She felt cold suddenly and had to take a deep breath.

“The things I did…”

“Ssssh.” She interrupted him. “I know. I don’t want to hear it.”

He looked hurt at her words and she cursed herself. She took his hand, squeezing it.

“Hey, hey. That’s not what I meant. It’s just, sometimes, you don’t need to hear some things. I think I know what you’ve done, and I don’t need to hear more. I just need to know one thing, though.”

He nodded, the hurt was gone now, and she knew that he understood what she meant.

“Those bad things… Do you still do them now?”

“No, my father made sure I wouldn’t anymore.”

“Okay,” she breathed. “You don’t do it anymore. But do you want to?”

“No!” He exclaimed. “No, I don’t want anymore.”

“That’s all I needed to know.”

She kissed him, then, so he could understand that she didn’t think of him any differently.

“Are you feeling better now that it’s off your chest,” she asked.

“Yeah, I do.”

He kissed her, softly, and gave her face and neck a lot of kisses.

“I…” he took a deep breath then, as if what he was about to say caused him physical pain. “I love you.”

Marinette swore that she felt her heart stop at those words. Those three words she’s been dreaming of hearing for months now. She was so happy she could cry.

Damian’s face fell, and she realized that she was taking too long to answer. She gave him the brightest smile that she could and stroke his cheek lovingly.

“I love you so much,” she whispered.

She didn’t know who leaned in first, but their lips met in a passionate kiss. He pulled her closer to him, their chest touching, and his hand took untied her hair from the ponytail they were in.

Her hands were moving up and down his torso, and soon, his shirt was on the floor instead of his person. Her shirt soon followed and when Damian pulled away, she almost whimpered.

“Wait, wait, wait,” he panted. “Are you sure you want to go there?”

She pulled him to her, kissing him once more but he broke the kiss once again.

“No, I’ll need your verbal consent, here.”

She smiled, appreciating his concern.

“Yes, I’m sure.”

And this time, when she pulled him to her, he didn’t resist.

Tag List:

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[sophielovesbarnes]

Longing

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Angst and a bit of smut

Request: Hiya 😊 I'd love to request something with Bucky please! When they held him captive at Hydra he saw another prisoner (the reader) but he was still in the WS mindset, like not really caring. But once he escaped he started to remember her and he goes back to save her because he felt somethingforher? If that makes any sense lol thank you so much in advance ❤

Author note: Hey! I’m so sorry this took so long, but here it is, i hope you enjoy it,let me know what you think.

Requests are open. 

It’s the fifth night in a row he gets woken up by the same nightmare. He is back in Hydra. He’s on the chair, and his nightmare is filled with screams. The thing is that the screams he listens to are not his, they are someone else’s. He recognizes the screams; he knows he has heard them before, every time he replays them in his mind the memory of y/e/c eyes and soft y/s/c skin floods his mind.

Suddenly he finds himself longing for someone he barely remembers, and it steals all his concentration, he can’t focus, he can’t eat, or sleep, or aim, and it is driving him crazy.

How can he feel something so intense for someone he doesn’t know? 

He goes to the kitchen because he knows for a fact that he won’t be able to get any more sleep, so he drinks, because he hopes that vodka will numb the way he feels his chest rips apart, leaving a bleeding hole behind.

He has to find her; she has got to be real.

“I’m starting to believe you don’t sleep man.” Sam takes the bottle from his hands and stares at him. “Isn’t it a bit early to drink?”

Bucky snatches the bottle back from his hands and gives him a death glare.

“Piss off, shouldn’t you be sleeping?”

“We could ask you the same thing.” Steve adds.

He hesitates but after a few moments he gets to the decision that speaking about it may make things better.

“Can’t sleep.” Steve sits next to him and looks at him with attention. “I keep having the same nightmare, I’m with Hydra and I hear a girl scream, they are torturing her and I can’t do anything about it, and I want to do something, I really do, but I can’t.”

“I just keep thinking about her...” He takes a sip straight from the bottle and then continues. “What if she is real? What if she is not a product of my mind?”

“I hear you man, but we have wiped out every single Hydra facility, there was no girl.” 

“Yeah, I know.” He puts the bottle down, and he rubs his face. “It’s just, she feels so real.”

“Then let’s look for her, maybe she escaped, I mean, you made it out, maybe she did as well.” Steve adds.

“How do we find her?” 

“Same way we found you, we look into their files, we ask around, we find a trail and find her, what do you know about her? Name, age, anything?”

“No, I don’t remember anything, I remember her face, her eyes, but no name.”

“We’ll find a way, Buck, we will.” 

***

Your name comes to his mind one night, and it hits him the same way that waves hit rocks in the open ocean, it drains all the air from his lungs and leaves him heaving desperately trying to recover himself from it.

Y/N Y/L/N.

It echoes in his mind, over and over, the gale of emotions hitting him over and over again mercilessly.

Y/N Y/L/N. 

Y/N Y/L/N.

He remembers your name, he remembers everything, he remembers how fiercely you fought every day, how you never gave up, he remembers your y/e/c eyes filled with fear every time they dragged you to the chair, he remembers how you looked at him, begging for help, he remembers how he did nothing and just stood there watching them torture you. 

He remembers everything, and he has got to find you.

He will find you. 

****

The hardest thing of being a runaway is not being able to have a home, the idea of having strings and a place to call home felt unreachable, every day you are haunted with the memory of soft blue eyes, torturing chairs and echoing screams.

You are filled with rage; they stole your home, your childhood, your innocence; Hydra took everything from you, and you were going to make them pay.

You are a mutant, with the ability to heal any wound and learn everything about any person with just touching them, that’s why they took you when you were only ten.

For years Hydra used your gifts to get information from their enemies and heal the Winter Soldier after his missions.

He was the one who took you away from your home; the Winter Soldier, but your hate has never been directed towards him, you knew his story, you knew they took as much from him as they took from you. 

For some reason you always felt attracted to him, like a magnetic force was calling you, as the years passed your attraction did nothing but grow; until he disappeared after the Triskelion incident, leaving you alone and heartbroken.  

And you stayed there, until the base where you were being held captive was attacked, giving you the chance of escaping, while everyone; including the Maximoff twins, were too busy defending the base you were able to take down the few guards that stayed behind and finally find your freedom. 

It was easy to find your way out of Sokovia, and after that you never stopped running, not even when the Earth was attacked by aliens again, not even when half of the world was turned to dust. 

But then one day people started to come back, families were reunited and the earth seemed to go back to normal, which meant that the last bits of Hydra that were scattered around the world were back as well. 

So you went back to running, changing looks, country and identity every couple months, that seemed to become a routine until one day you saw him on TV, the White Wolf, the companion of the new Captain America, Sam Wilson.

It was him.

The Winter Soldier. 

So he made it out, he is free now, and the fact that he was willing to show himself on open TV meant one thing and one thing only, every single last bit of Hydra was taken down and he had broken down their programming, gaining himself back.

You grabbed your backpack and filled it with the few things you had, getting ready to leave yet another city, you throw the bag over your shoulders and leave the tiny apartment with a mission on your mind.

You had to find James Buchanan Barnes.

***

Since he remembered your name he hasn’t been able to take you out of his mind; out of the sudden he finds himself drowning in your memory, kind eyes, soft skin and plump lips, one day it hits him.

He is in love with you.

He is desperately and irrevocably in love with a woman he barely remembers; he is in love with a ghost and he is willing to do anything to find you.

All they have been able to find is a file, left behind on a Hydra base, there isn’t much, just a log of your reaction to the chair and a picture of you, that he cherishes as his most valuable possession. Every single system Stark owns is now programmed to locate you, Stark created an algorithm (whatever that is) that is supposed to catch any move you make. 

When that happened he would get alerted of your location and finally he would be able to find you.

He was scared of course. 

After all, he was the one who kidnapped you, he stood there watching them torture you, he abandoned Hydra without ever doing anything to rescue you.

So with all of that, what if you hated him? 

Of course you would be entitled to do so, but he knew he wouldn’t stand the hate in your eyes; so he makes a decision, when they find you he won’t do anything to approach you, he just wants to know that you are alive, safe and sound, that will be enough.

“You know that staring at the screen won’t make it work faster, right?” His train of thought is interrupted by the voice of his best friend, he gives a huff in response without taking his eyes away from the monitor. “When was the last time you slept?”

“I don’t know, Tuesday?” He answers absentmindedly.

“Buck, it’s Friday, you have got to stop, this isn’t healthy.”

“I have to find her Steve, I hurt her so bad, and I just need to make sure she's fine.”

“We don’t even know if she is still…”

“If she is still what? Say it Steve.”

“We don’t even know if she is still alive, you were in Hydra for 70 years Bucky, for all we know she could be long gone.” 

“Until the opposite is proven, she is alive, I know she is, I can feel it.”

“Okay Buck.” Steve says softly. “We’ll keep looking.” 

“Captain Rogers.” Announces a robotic voice that Bucky has learnt to identify as F.R.I.D.A.Y. “Thor, Bruce and the Maximoff twins are back from their mission.”  

“Thank you F.R.I.D.A.Y. any updates on the search?”

“Nothing yet, I will inform you as soon as there is a match.” 

Bucky barely registers the interaction, he is lost in your eyes, they scanned the picture and it is now displayed on real size on the screen, he longs to touch you, to trace your soft cheeks and to join his lips with yours. 

“That’s Y/N.” That single comment snaps him out of his train of thought, he turns around and sees Wanda standing on the door. “Why are you looking for her?” 

“Wait, you know her?” He jumps out of the chair and goes to her. “Wanda?

“Yeah I do, she was kept on the Sokovia base with us, she used to heal us after Hydra’s experiments.” Wanda replies. “She was the only kind person in there.”

“How long ago was that?” 

“I’m not sure, but she was still there when Steve and the rest of the team took down the base.”

“Steve?” He asks, with desperation in his voice. 

“We checked the base Buck, she wasn’t there.” 

“Are you sure, maybe they took her with them?” His heart is racing so fast he feels it might escape his chest. “Maybe she was still there and you didn’t see her?” 

“There was no one there Buck, I promise, but this is good, it gives us a place to start.” 

“We have to go there, there might be a clue or something that can lead us to her.”

“Let’s go then.” 

Fifteen minutes later he is in the Quinjet, together with Sam, Steve, the twins and Natasha. He can barely breath and he is so nervous he feels he might throw up, this is the first real clue they have, and even though he is trying to stay positive his mind can’t help but wander around the worst case scenario. 

You could be dead.

He shoves the thought away and takes a deep breath. 

Soon he will see you. 

***

After a lot of meditation you make a decision you are probably going to regret.

You are going to the Avengers compound.

It’s the first place that comes to your mind, if James is working with Captain America again he has got to be there, or at least a clue of him.

It’s a risk of course, you know for a fact that they have very tight security protocols, especially after Thanos’ attack, number two, they probably relate you as an Hydra agent and it can be troublesome to prove the opposite.

You know that it’s your best shot to find him, even if you are not sure if he wants to see you.

But right now your main concern was getting there, without a passport or any kind of document to prove your identity there was no way you could get out of the country, leaving Sokovia wasn’t hard, you had left during the raid and hotwired a car, you spent the next few years traveling from one place to other, eventually your path lead you to Spain, once you were there it became easy to blend in.

But getting out of Spain was a complete different issue. 

First things first, you had to get documents, you also had to plan your escape in a way that went unnoticed by Hydra or any other organization that had you as a target. With the Sokovia Accords the mere fact of being a mutant became a dangerous situation. 

Getting the documents wouldn’t be so hard, you knew that Rodrigo; a habitual customer of the coffee shop you worked on, who later became one of your only friends; had a money laundry business, and that he was well connected with people that could make excellent forgeries, the tricky part would be getting him to trust you enough to tell you. 

But he was the only person you knew that might have that kind of connection, so you had to take the risk. 

So the next day you go to work determined to talk to him, at ten o’clock in the morning he crosses the door and orders his usual cappuccino and a spanish ham tapa. 

“Okay Y/N, it’s now or never.” You whisper to yourself and put a fake smile on your face. 

“Buenos días Rodrigo.” Good morning Rodrigo. You ask with an almost perfect spanish accent.

“Hola Lidia, ¿como estais?” Good morning Lidia, how are you? Lidia was the name you had chosen as an alias, and it was still hard to get used to it.

“No tan bien, he tenido algunos problemas.”  Not so well, I have a problem.

“Lamento mucho oír eso, sabéis que podes contar conmigo para lo que sea.” I’m sorry to hear that, you know you can count on me for anything. 

“De hecho, eso quería hablar contigo, quería pedirte un favor.” Actually, I wanted to talk about it with you.  You sit on the chair in front of him and sigh.

“Lo que sea.” Anything 

“Necesito salir del país, mi abuela se encuentra muy mal.” I need to get out of the country, my grandma is very sick

“¿Necesitas dinero?” Do you need money?

“No, no es eso.” No, it’s not that.

“¿Entonces?” Then?

“Lo que sucede es que no tengo papeles, ni pasaporte, ni visa, ni nada, todo lo he perdido cuando salí de Sokovia.” The thing is that I have no papers, no passport, or visa, or anything, I lost everything when I left Sokovia. His face hardens and he looks away. “¿Conocéis a alguien que pueda ayudarme?” Do you know anyone who can help me?

“No se que te hace pensar que tengo ese tipo de contactos Lidia.” I don’t know what makes you believe I have that kind of connection Lidia. He says with annoyance.

“Por favor Rodrigo, te lo ruego, te juro que no se lo diré a nadie.” Please Rodrigo, I swear I won’t tell anyone.  You beg, he takes his keys and stands up. “Por favor.” Please

“Busca a Gary Rydell, estará en España por poco tiempo, se hospeda en el Royal Hideaway, si alguien puede ayudarte es él, decidle que vais de mi parte.” Find Gary Rydell, he will be in Spain for a couple days, he is staying at the Royal Hideaway if anyone can help you is him, tell him I sent you.

“Gracias Rodrigo.” Thank you Rodrigo.

“¿Y Lidia?” And Lidia?

“¿Si?” Yes?

“Ni una palabra de esto con nadie.” Not a single word of this to anyone. He takes the last sip of his cappuccino and leaves.

That very same day you are at the hotel he indicated, based on his memories Gary Rydell was a tall white man with the bluest eyes you had ever seen, you recognize him walking by the side of the pool, you decide that a straight approach is your best option, you walk towards him and he smiles. 

“Well hello.”

“Hi.” You smile back and run your fingers through your hair. “You are Gary Rydell.”

“That I am, you seem to know my name but I don’t know yours.”

“Lidia Aguilar.”

“Lidia, can I buy you a drink?”

“Sure.” You both go to the bar and order straight scotch for both of you.

“So, Lidia, what can I do for you?.”

“I have a problem, Rodrigo Ballesteros said that you are the right man to help me.”

“Straight to business, I like it, how can I help you?”

 “I need to go to the United States, but I don’t have any paperwork, let’s just say that Lidia is just a couple of years old.”

He takes a sip from his glass and gives you a coy smile.

“What you are asking for can be tricky to get, you need an American passport and ID and those aren’t easy to get.”

“I am ready to pay anything it takes.”

“It would be ten grand.”

“Dollars?”

“Euros baby girl.” He corrects, you knew it would be expensive, but thanks to an Hydra account you had managed to hack, money wouldn’t be an issue. 

“Alright, you got it.”

“But I’m afraid we might need to kill Lidia, it’s easier to get what you want with a name that already exists.” 

“Okay, that’s fine.” 

“Very good Lidia, we have a deal.”

Two weeks later you have assumed a new identity, Gary managed to get one that had your real name, you are now Y/N Talbot, a Californian girl that spent the last few years traveling. You have a one way plane ticket to New York. 

****

The trip to Sokovia ended up being useless, there was no trail of you.

Wanda had managed to find the cage where you were kept in, there was a chair, similar to the one they used on him, the cell was made of three concrete walls and a glass one to keep you monitored. 

Being this close to Hydra made him want to throw up.

The worst part was that he had hit yet another dead end, he was back to square one. 

On the way back to New York, Bucky stays silent, even with Steve’s and Sam’s effort to cheer him up and make him speak. 

When they get to the compound he goes straight to the room where they had all the monitors and a glass board where he had pinned all the clues they had on you and starts to take it all down.

“Buck, what are you doing?” Steve asks with concern.

“This is pointless, we will never find her!” He knocks the board down and it shatters when it touches the floor. 

“You can’t give up.”

“We have been trying to find her for almost six months and we have nothing! We are as close to her as we were at the beginning!”

“Sergeant Barnes.” Says a robotic voice. “There is a match on Y/N Y/L/N.”

“What? Where?” Then an image is displayed on the screen. 

And it’s like he can breathe for the first time in years, you are alive, safe and sound, and more beautiful than he remembered, his memories never did justice to the real you.

He is so excited to see you, that it takes him a while to realize where you are. 

You are on the entrance of the compound. 

****

When you see him a part of you it’s brought back to life, like the final piece of the puzzle finally fell to place. 

He walks slowly towards you, like he is afraid of something. 

You close the distance and look him in the eyes, and then you know it. That you love him and you would do anything for him.

“It’s you.” 

Author note: I hope you guys liked it, let me know if you want a part two 

[slowly-writing]

Ulterior Motives

Steve Rogers x Kid!Reader

Word count: 1795

Requested by: @kye06

a/n: Trigger warnings for childhood Neglect and overall shitty parenting

You don’t remember very much before you started living with your dad. You had a few flashes here and there, mainly of what you thought was doctors offices though you know knew must’ve been labs of somesort. Then when you were around 4 years old you found yourself on the Avengers doorstep with a note that you couldn’t read at the time. Little did you know it was a letter, telling the heros who you were, and more importantly, who your father was.  That was over 12 years ago, and somehow your life still hadn’t gotten any easier.

You were Steve Roger’s daughter, or at least that’s what you were told. You could tell nobody believed it, and that made you doubt the truth as well. He believed you at first, but as you grew you were constantly sick, which got in the way of any training that could prove your claims. Not that they really tried to train you after the first few weeks. You didn’t seem like anything special, so they decided you probably weren’t.

You did your own training in the safety of your bedroom, that where you spent most of your time anyway. They didn’t acknowledge your existence very much, and you pretended it didn’t hurt. None of them knew how to handle children, that was all. You made it work. You didn’t ask for help with your homework, you kept your grades up. When you got sick you made your own way to the medical wing and got the help you needed yourself. You found a way to raise yourself, and you pretended to be okay with it.

You tried not to show how much everyone’s attitude affected you. It’s not like they really knew you anyways, so who cared what they thought. The whispers going on behind your back of what your real agenda was hurt, but you could take it. You’re heading towards the kitchen to get breakfast when you hear more of the whispering that never seems to stop.

“She can’t really be his kid, she’s nothing like him!” you hear Tony say and you sigh.

“The odds are highly unlikely,” Bruce responds softly, “you know all this could be solved with a simple paternity test, Steve.”

“No.” You hear your dad’s voice, “I don’t think I’d be able to look her in the eye if it came back negative.”

That’s all you needed to hear. You turn around and grab your backpack from your room, none of them would notice if you left for school a little early. You’d be surprised if they even knew what grade you were in.

xxxxx

You had just got home from school when you noticed the tower was empty. You walked through the halls, looking into some of the rooms before wandering back to your own. You saw a note on your pillow and picked it up curiously.

Hey y/n,

We all had to head out on a mission. We should be back in a few days. There’s food in the fridge, so you should be okay here. You won’t be able to reach us but I put a number at the bottom of the page if something goes wrong. It is for emergencies only, y/n. Stay safe, kid.

-Clint

You smiled a bit at that. Clint was always the nicest to you growing up, he had a very fatherly vibe. He was gone a lot though, disappearing for weeks at a time, so you didn’t get to spend much time with him.

You set the note on your dresser before sitting down to do homework. You’d been working for about an hour when you heard some noises in the kitchen. You slowly make your way over, hearing a robotic voice murmuring to itself. You think JARVIS must be malfunctioning until you turn the corner and see a tattered version of what looks like an iron man suit stumbling around. Before you can react it turns to you.

“Ah, the littlest Rogers. What an honor,” it says and you feel a chill run down your spine, “you wouldn’t know where I could find your father, would you?”

“H-he’s not here,” you stutter out, not quite sure how to react to this particular situation.

“Well I know that. I am looking for a clue as to where he could’ve gone, certainly you must know something,” the machine says and you roll your eyes.

“You’ve come to the wrong place, buddy. I’m the last person they’d tell.”

“Ah, I remember now. The forgotten daughter. Well, I guess we could find out how much he really cares, though you won’t be around to see it,” the machine says, and with that it charges you.

You send a kick to it’s chest area as it approaches, sending it stumbling off course. You’re in over your head as the fight ensues. You can’t spar yourself, so you have very little combat knowledge. Adding that to the fact that you’re fighting a robot that you can’t knock out, you’re fighting a losing battle. You take more hits than you ever have, but eventually the machine takes off through the window, sending shattered glass flying at you. You wipe the blood from your face as well as you can. Holding your ribs, which you’re pretty sure were broken, you stumble towards your room and grab the note Clint left. You wait impatiently as it rings, praying whatever that thing was doesn’t come back.

“Fury, we’ve got a problem,” you say as soon as the line connects.

“This isn’t Fury. My name’s Laura,” a female voice responds, throwing you off. You can’t think of who else Clint could’ve left you a number for.

“Oh, um I’m sorry. Clint left me this number...I just assumed…” you trail off.

“Clint gave you this number? What’s your name?” you hesitate for a second, but you trust Clint. If he trusts this woman then that’s good enough for you.

“I’m y/n, I live in the tower with him.”

“Y/n, as in Rogers?” she asks and you frown.

“Uh, yeah, that’s me,” you say, you don’t enjoy advertising your last name.

You hear a commotion on the other end of the line before the phone is handed off, “Y/n, what’s wrong?”

“Clint, some...thing just attacked the tower. This robot thing looking for Steve. I fought it off, but I’m afraid it could come back,” you explain frantically, every second that ticks by your nerves are growing, you know you can’t handle another round right now.

“Y/n, listen to me. You need to get out of there right now. Get to the hanger, I’m sending coordinates to the jet.” You hear the woman, Laura, in the background as you start making your way through the tower. “Ultron attacked the tower, I’m getting her here.”

“Clint, what’s happening?” you ask, almost to the jet.

“I’ll explain when you get here, you’ll be okay, y/n.” With that the line cuts off and you pray he’s right.

xxxxx

By the time you touch down you’re already starting to feel better, physically at least. Mentally, you’re more confused than you’ve ever been. You make your way towards the house, you didn’t expect a safe house to look so lived in, but then again you’ve never seen one before.

“Hello?” you ask, knocking on the door.

“Hey, come on in,” the woman from the phone says and you nod slowly. You’re not sure what you’re expecting but it certainly isn’t the entire team to be sitting in the living room, looking very out of place.

“Y/n? What are you doing here?” Steve says and you flinch slightly.

“Hey, calm down. She needed help,” Clint says, walking over towards you and you take comfort in his presence.

“We’re not really in a position to be helping people right now, Clint. In case you haven’t noticed we just had our asses handed to us by Ultron!” Tony yells and you look at Clint.

“Is that what he’s called? The robot guy?” you ask softly and suddenly all eyes are on you.

“You’ve seen him?” Banner asks and you glare.

“Yeah. I’ve seen him. I’m sure you wouldn’t have noticed, but I didn’t have a black eye or broken ribs when you left the tower,” you yell and they all look confused.

“He attacked you? How’d you get away?” Steve asks and you shrug.

“He took off. There’s still some spare wiring and a broken window in the kitchen in case you don’t believe me.”

“You fought him off?” He asks and you nod.

“As well as I could, I don’t really have any combat training. I did what I could, I’m stronger than you all give me credit for. I told you I’m your kid,” you say, refusing to make eye contact.

“That’s not proven,” Tony says and you snap.

“Then just do a damn DNA test already! Or kick me out so I can live anywhere else! I was four when I moved in. I know none of you have any idea how kids work, but a four year old doesn’t have any ulterior motives. I’m not here to take you down from within, I’m here because I have nowhere else to go. Believe me, if I did I would’ve been gone years ago.”

“Y/n, I’m sorry I-” your father starts but you cut him off.

“No. You don’t get to apologize now. I hear how you talk about me. How you all talk about me! Like I’m the enemy, like I’m some ploy to get you to let your guard down. I’m a sixteen year old kid. I’m a junior in high school, though I’m sure you’ve all forgotten that. I don’t know why I get sick when you can’t, or why I’m not as tall as you are. I don’t know any of that because you guys are the geniuses here. You’re the adults, and if you want those answers, by all means go get them. I’d love to know too, but quit taking it all out on me. None of this is my fault!” You yell and the room falls silent.

“You’re right. None of this has been fair to you,” Steve says and you glare.

“Understatement of the damn century,” you grumble and he nods.

“It is. And when this is all over, we’ll be better. We will treat you like you deserve to be treated and we’ll find you those answers, but for now we need to get rid of Ultron, and it looks like we could use your help.”

“Thank you,” you say softly and he shakes his head.

“You don’t have to thank me, it’s how this should've been from the beginning.”

Tag list:  @rvgrsbrns @marvelsdc22

[martyrbat]

ghosts – batman confidential #41

[ID: eight year old Bruce Wayne kneeling disconsolately on the ground between his parents corpses after they were murdered in front of him. His face is mostly concealed by shadow, blocking his eyes and lower face as he hauntedly stares ahead. END ID]

[elareine]

Deaged Jaybird anyone?

Well, judging from ao3 and tumblr, I think the answer to that question is ‘everyone and amazingly so,’ but I might as well throw my hat into the ring, thank you <3

I thought this was gonna be sweet and funny. It didn’t exactly turn out that way.

rewind, fast forward, stop Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply - Childhood Trauma, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Underage Prostitution, Temporary Character Death, Angst Relationships: Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake & Jason Todd, Dick Grayson & Jason Todd Characters: Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Tim Drake, Damian Wayne, Duke Thomas, Cassandra Cain, Alfred Pennyworth Additional Tags: Age Regression/De-Aging, De-Aged Jason Todd, Family Issues, Family Feels, Loss of Trust, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Hurt with Temporary Comfort, Jason Todd Needs A Hug, The Batfamily Needs Therapy, Bittersweet, Unreliable Narrator

“If he says the words unstable molecules one more time, I’m going to hit something,” Dick muttered.

“Jason’s been gone for two hours, and you’re already trying to replace him?” Tim asked. It was a weak joke, and Dick didn’t laugh.

Nygma and Crane were still arguing at metaphorical gunpoint (i.e., genuine sword end), bent over the makeshift crib.

“I didn’t expect this to happen, either! What’s the point of posing riddles if he’s a baby?”

“Well you still fucked up and now we’re here, basically hostages—”

Bruce held up a hand. Everyone fell silent.

“So. His age will change several times?”

“Yes.”

“You cannot predict the intervals.”

“No.”

“What does he remember?”

“I don’t know. We should ask him…”

“…when he reaches an age where he can speak, yes. Will this stop once he reaches the age he’s supposed to be?”

“I don’t—”

“Then we will find out. Nygma, you have 24 hours to fix this.” He turned and looked at Dick. “Call reinforcements and start the lab work.”

Dick nodded, but whatever he was going to ask wasn’t going to be heard because Jason chose that moment to start wailing.

Everyone froze. Despite all the arguing, the fact that they know had to care for a baby hadn’t seemed real until that moment.

Bruce, though, just lifted Jason up and to his chest with the same natural competence with which he handled explosives and batarangs. “There, there, Jaylad. You’re hungry, hmm? I bet Alfred has already prepared a bottle. Let’s go find him, shall we?”

——

Dick volunteered to stay home and watch the baby that evening. Except when he returned to the crib with a freshly prepared bottle, it was a toddler staring back at him.

“Hey there, little man,” Dick greeted him.

Silence.

Dick tried again. “Jason, are you in there?”

The kid stared back at him, clearly wondering what the strange man was talking about. His eyes were so blue. “Me.”

“Yes, you’re Jason,” Dick agreed. “Do you remember me?”

Jason’s brow furrowed as if he was concentrating really hard. “No?”

“That’s okay. I’m Dick. I’m—” your brother. But how did you explain that to a toddler who didn’t remember any siblings? “A friend.”

After a minute of stern evaluation, Jason’s expression melted into a smile, and he held up his short chubby arms. “Up?”

“Of course.” Dick bent down and scooped Jason up with one swift motion, bouncing him up and down for a few seconds, to Jason’s great delight and giggles. Then he settled him onto his hip. “How about some food, buddy?”

“Hungry!” Jason declared. It sounded like ‘angry.’ Dick wanted to record that and use it as Jason’s ringtone forever.

He couldn’t very well give him the baby formula now, so: “Let’s go to the kitchen, then, huh? I like midnight snacks, too.”

“Snack,” Jason repeated. He seemed to like that word. “Snack, snack, snack!”

“Yes, snack. Hey B,” he called softly through the non-emergency line as they walked through the corridor, “listen to who woke up.”

“Baba?” Jason asked. Dick had no idea whether he meant Bruce or was asking for his own father. Either way, it was devastating.

“Jaylad,” Bruce murmured back. Dick didn’t call him out on the use of real names. “Why aren’t you sleeping?”

“No.”

Dick tried not to laugh at the sleepy pout. “To be fair, I don’t know how ‘slept like a baby for hours,’ literally, affects his sleep schedule.”

“How old is he?”

“About… two? Maybe?” Dick was not an expert in estimating the age of children, so sue him. “Maybe younger. He’s real small, and he doesn’t remember me.”

Silence. “N, we’re coming home.”

The bats had barely been out for an hour. “Sure. See you soon.”

——

It was Tim who discovered the next transformation. He’d taken over the early morning shift by virtue of not sleeping anyway. Jason’s room had been quiet; Tim had just wanted to make sure he was doing okay when he was greeted with a much larger shape in the bed than he’d expected.

Which, fuck, that couldn’t be good, right? Last time Jason had only skipped a couple of years, but now he was at least six.

The figure was also too still to be asleep. Tim switched on the nightlight they’d installed by the door and looked at Jason. Yeah, his eyes were definitely open. It was eerie, the way he held himself still as if he was trying to disappear into the darkness. Don’t notice me, his position screamed. I’m not here, go away.

It was so familiar. Tim couldn’t breathe for a second for the way it was a perfect reversal of the way he himself had spent his childhood. Notice me, look at me, don’t leave.

“Hey,” Tim called out softly, unconsciously imitating Dick’s voice. “Can’t sleep?”

“Who are you.” His voice was clear and hard, a far cry from the sweet toddler who had played with Tim’s cape when they’d come home from patrol at midnight.

That had been four hours ago. It was going to be a long day, wasn’t it?

“I’m Tim,” he said. “You don’t remember me right now because you’re… sick, but we know each other.”

The distrust did not wane. “Where am I?”

“At my father’s house. Wayne Manor.” Tim smiled. “Maybe you’ve heard of it?”

“Who else is here?”

“Your family.”

That did not have the expected effect, at all. Jason shrank back, hands gripping the blanket tight even as his expression remained blank.

Tim’s hand moved to his bracelet and pressed a button. He’d promised Bruce to wake him up if there was a development. Besides, he was in over his head here, and he knew it.

“I’m going to call them, okay?” There was no answer.

It took less than two minutes for the doorway to be filled with people. Bruce was first, of course, closely followed by Dick, with Damian, Duke, and Cass lingering just behind them in the hallway.

“You’re going to crowd him,” Tim pointed out. “We’re all strangers.”

“Tim is right.” Bruce stepped forward. “Stay back.”

They watched as he crouched down in front of the bed. “Hi, Jason. You don’t remember me, and I know that’s scary.”

“I’m not scared.”

Tim couldn’t see his face, but he would bet good money that Bruce smiled at that. “No, you aren’t because you’re brave, aren’t you.”

“Hmm. Where’s mom?” Jason asked.

“She’s not here. I’m sorry. You’re staying with our family and me for now.”

“Where’s dad?”

“He’s not here, either, but—”

Jason’s shoulders deflated.

Oh. Oh.

Tim could feel the tension rack up in the room as every single family member was simultaneously filled with rage.

Bruce, however, looked calm. “As long as we are here,” he said, quietly but with the kind of conviction that could move mountains, “no one is going to hurt you. Your mother is fine, and so are you.”

And Jason looked up and believed him. Tim could see it in the way he relaxed, how he slumped down against Bruce’s bulk as if it was the only thing holding him up. He didn’t say anything.

Tim felt a gentle tug on his elbow. He followed the others outside, quietly, leaving Bruce to keep vigil. It was touching, but something about the scene bothered Tim.

“Do you think,” he quietly asked Dick as the group dispersed, “that we should call someone else? His friends? You have Roy’s number.”

“It will help, being here, when he reaches Robin age. They’re strangers until he’s an adult.”

That wasn’t the point. Tim frowned. “I know you think he should be with family when he’s like this. But Dick—we haven’t been his family for a long time. We shouldn’t see this stuff.”

Dick swallowed, but he didn’t argue with that. “B already knows.”

“Not all of it. Not what will happen when—”

“Yeah.” Dick’s shoulders slumped. “But do you think you can convince B of that?”

“No.” Tim sighed. “No, I don’t.”

——

“Master Jason, what are you doing in the kitchen?”

It was eight a.m., and even Master Tim was asleep by now. Alfred had kept an ear out for the sound of a preschooler waking up, but Master Jason must’ve aged again. He looked to be about nine now.

The kid frowned. “I don’t know who you are, but I need to make breakfast, or mom won’t eat.”

Alfred took a moment to fix his apron, blinking discreetly. “Of course, Master Jason. Your mother, however, isn’t here at the moment. Would you like to help me prepare some pancakes?”

——

There was a sound like something heavy falling, then a curse. “Where the fuck am I?”

Dick and Tim exchanged a glance. They’d installed Jason in front of the tv, at first, but he’d been more interested in the few children’s books Bruce kept around for guests.

Tim had tagged along—at this point, he had somehow wound up one of Jason’s primary caretakers, and wasn’t that a sentence he hadn’t expected himself to ever think? Looked like the time for children’s books had run out.

When they walked over to the armchair Jason had buried himself in, they found a pile of limbs in front of it, scrambling to get up and look at them. The family had taken to dressing Jason in the largest clothes they could get him in without them falling off, just to spare his modesty at the next change. Not that Jason had really grown much over the last few episodes…

At least he was dressed as he woke up in an unfamiliar living room because he couldn’t remember the previous episode or his adult life, Tim thought. Honestly, this curse/science mishap/whatever seemed hellbent on making their lives as miserable as possible.

Dick advanced cautiously. “Jason—”

“And you would be?” the boy asked, his voice suddenly much lighter.

“My name’s Dick Grayson, and you’re safe here.”

“Hmm, am I?” There was something wrong with the way Jason looked at Dick. His weight was shifted to the side, pushing his hip to the front, his long lashes almost fluttering, and there was something challenging in his gaze as if he was daring Dick—as if he was—

The idea was so incongruous—so impossible—that it took Tim too long to connect the dots. It was the exact pose he saw the working girls and boys adopt, night after night when they approached a car.

The thing with Tim was: He could be thrown off a building, and his brain would still keep on working all the way down. (No, seriously, that happened several times.) It was just how it was. So he could be shocked at what was happening, at what he’d just learned about Jason, and still notice that Dick wasn’t.

Perhaps he was making a mountain of a molehill, then. Perhaps Jason had just seen too much on the streets and was trying to play along, to give Dick what Jason thought he wanted, and then he’d punch him when he got too close and get out of here.

Perhaps.

“Let’s just—wait it out, okay?” Dick sighed. “You got temporary amnesia. It’ll all be clear tomorrow.”

“Sure.” Jason looked like he didn’t believe him, but was willing to run with it. “You got some food?”

——

“Oh, hey Dick! You look different!”

Dick thought he was about to cry with relief. Finally, a Jason that knew them, that wouldn’t have to be reassured about their intentions every few hours. “Hey, Jason.”

“Is it for a case?”

“Something like that,” he said. “You’re in the future, sort of. We have to wait a few hours before you can go back.”

Jason’s eyes went wide. “Really? That’s so cool! Can I talk to myself? Where am I? What year is it? What am I doing?”

“We can’t tell you that,” Tim said suddenly. “You know. Time travel code. Gotta follow the rules.”

“Ah.” Jason nodded as if that made any sense. “But you can tell me about other things, right? What about the cave? Can I see how it changed?”

“No, not the cave—” not while that damn memorial was still there, “—but Alfred has a collection of photos in one room if you want to see.”

That would be fine. Jason wasn’t in any of those, anyway.

“Whoa,” Jason commented when he saw how many pictures there were. “This family sure has grown. Wait, who is that?”

“That’s me,” Tim said.

Jason frowned. “That’s a Robin outfit. Are you Robin after me?”

And Dick—he could see how Tim tensed up. Understandably so, they had all heard what Jason called him. “Yeah, I—I didn’t mean to repl—you were—”

“It’s okay,” Jason shrugged. “Robin is more than one person, right? Dickie here said that. You don’t stop being Robin. You just share it.”

Tim blinked once. Then again.

Dick watched in some concern, because—surely that’s what he said to him back when he gave Robin to Damian, too? Right? It was all such a blur, but he must have.

Jason was already moving on to the next picture. “Wow, are these your wings?!”

“Yeah.”

“Did you make them? That’s so cool, I wanna fly too!”

Dick watched in amusement as a blush spread across Tim’s face. “I could show you the plans?”

“That would be fun! It could be a project.” Then he whirled around. “Do you go to school?”

“Uh, not really.”

Jason frowned. “You should. Grades are important. You can’t go superheroing forever if you don’t have money.”

“That’s true.” Tim looked suitably chastised. Dick bit down on a laugh as he watched Jason walk along Alfred’s little gallery, commenting on everything he saw and pulling Tim along.

God, thinking about the kid they saw yesterday, this Jason was a miracle. Dick knew what it meant to pull yourself up after darkness crashed down on you, how to find a way to smile after you lost everything.

And he knew, too, what a single person who cared for you—who believed in you could do.

(Maybe Dick should’ve remembered that when Jason became a miracle for the second time.)

Bruce had been that for both of them. Even now, Dick could see him at the doorway, watching Jason with such pride and unbearable longing on his face. Then a shadow fell over his expression, and he turned away.

“Dick!” Jason called over. “Tim has never heard the train story! C’mon, you’re the best at telling it.”

“He hasn’t heard it because it’s embarrassing,” Dick whined, but he walked over and joined them. Might as well make the most of this, right?”

——

“I’m sorry, Bruce,” Zatanna said. “There’s nothing I can do.”

She was magic, Cass knew, and Bruce didn’t like magic. So if he was asking her for help… Duke, next to her, looked worried, as well.

They weren’t letting the two of them see Jason, and that was okay. Neither of them had ever been close to Jason. Not that Dick or Tim had been, exactly, but they cared in a way Cass and Duke admittedly didn’t.

“Is there anything that could slow down his aging process, at least?”

“Nothing but putting him into stasis, and he would not thank you for that, Bruce.”

Duke dared to ask: “But Nygma said the effect of the gas should stop once he’s reached his proper age, right? So that should be… alright?”

“And what,” Bruce ground out, “if the next time he phases forward, he’s dead?”

“Bruce.” Zatanna put a hand on his shoulder, empathy in every line of her body.

Bruce shook her off as if he couldn’t bear the touch. “We don’t know if he’ll wake up this time.”

For a second, Cass wanted to hurt everyone who made Bruce sound like that. But she knew there was nothing she could do. Love, she knew, cut like that sometimes.

——

Damian was well aware that they would prefer to keep him far away from Todd. To a certain extent, he understood. He would not wish more people than necessary to watch him relive his own childhood, either.

However, no one in this family was prepared for what was coming next. Damian knew.

The minute the screaming began, Damian walked into the room.

Jason was convulsing on the bed. Dick was frantically checking him for injuries, and Damian clicked his tongue. “That won’t help. He is not bleeding.”

Bruce turned to him. “Damian, what—”

“He’s in pain. His body is half-alive, half-dead,” Damian told them calmly. His voice wasn’t shaking. It wasn’t. “It won’t stop until he swims in a Lazarus Pit.”

His father should not look like this. Helpless. Pitiful. Damian resented him for it, just a little bit. Father had not been there the first time. This would only last for hours, and all he had to do was wait. The crushing weight of how to fix this was not on him as it had been on Mother.

“I’m going to get a tranquilizer,” Dick murmured.

——

Duke wondered what they would do if Jason woke up in full rage mode. He had seen the files, had read everything he could the minute this started happening. Cass had told him the rest, pieced together from hints her brothers had dropped over the years. There was no way they could deal with that if they were unprepared and Jason was in their home. No way.

So he was… nervous. Just a bit. Enough so that he was camping out in front of the bedroom that they were keeping Jason for now. Sure, Jason had been medicated, but Duke had seen Bruce trying that on Red Hood before. Red Hood had barely slowed down. Whatever the Lazarus Pits were, exactly, they sure did a number on a person’s metabolism.

Duke got his answer when Bruce sent everyone out of the room. Batman would wait alone, then. Dick and Tim obeyed, albeit reluctantly.

Tim, however, returned a minute later with Bruce’s utility belt, shock full of batarangs and other weapons. The older man, however, hesitated to take it.

“Bruce,” Tim said, and he very gently touched a scar on his neck.

Bruce took the belt.

——

The next morning, Jason left.

Minutes before, Bruce watched him as he woke up.

He had known as soon as he had seen Jason as a toddler that his son would not forgive him for this. The others, maybe. They had only tried to help. Bruce was the one too selfish to let Jason keep his secrets, bring him to people he trusted.

Because that sure as hell wasn’t him anymore. Deservedly so or not, Bruce had had to face that reality a long time ago.

Still, when Jason opened his eyes and there was only a tinge of green in them, nothing like the rage of the pit, just like they had been the last time Bruce had seen him without the mask—for that one moment, Bruce allowed himself to hope.

Maybe, just maybe, Jason wouldn’t remember. Then he could use the whole thing as a learning experience—see it as bonding, even—something that would allow them to finally move on; that would help Bruce to find the right trigger to get Jason to give up his mad crusade and come home.

Then Jason blinked, and his eyes were empty even of hate.

“My phone?” was all he asked.

“In the cave.” Bruce kept his voice even because what else could he do?

Jason nodded. Then he left, and he did not come back.

[petertingle-yipyip]

Where Happiness Begins - Peter Parker

Chapter Nine: Used To Be

// WHB Masterlist //

//Series Inspo: @stuckonspidey​​ @cxptain-capsicle​​ // Series Tags: @writingsbychlo​​ @mc225g​​ @fandom-princess-forevermore​​ @istg-lyssa-stop @olliekookie @rosegoldhome​​ @chubsluda​​ @missmulti​​ @eterna​leviee @freerebel @peterparker-glee-other @disgustangg @jackiehollanderr​@imsobored3000  @eridanuswave​ @drunklili​ //

Pairing: Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Word Count: 14,475

Summary: Five years is a long time, but it’s time that Tony takes to rebuild his life and his family. He never forgot his oldest daughter, but he did learn to move on. When Steve comes to him asking for help, can Tony get things back to they way they Used To Be?

Things weren’t what they used to be on Earth. No one understood the full extent of what was lost. Half of humanity was gone, that much was the easy part to understand. But what no one knew how to cope with, was why it was the people they loved.

Tony hated that Y/N and Peter were gone. Steve hated that Bucky, and as far as he knew, Tony was gone. Okoye had lost T’Challa and Shuri. Rocket lost all the Guardians. Sam, Stephen Strange, Wanda, and millions of others had turned to ash in front of their friends and loved ones. There is no way to cope with that. And Pepper… Pepper didn’t know what she had lost.

Nebula and Tony were left to find a way home from Titan. They were the only two on that planet that survived. While Tony was friendly to Nebula, he couldn’t ignore the hollow feeling in his chest. The place where his daughter had been, where the ghost of his daughter is.

“What was her name?” Nebula suddenly asked. They had been playing finger football, a game so ordinary that it felt out of place to do in that ship. “Your daughter.”

“Y/N.” Tony said softly. “Her name is Y/N.”

He emphasized the word ‘is’. His brain was refusing to admit that she had disappeared before his eyes. He loved her. He raised her. He had done everything in his power to protect her, and he still failed her. He knew that he should’ve sent her home the minute he sent Peter home. But that didn’t work for the kid either.

Thinking of Peter hurt Tony almost as bad as thinking of Y/N. He remembered that he had told Y/N not to get too attached to Peter because he wasn’t meant to be a permanent addition to their lives, but he ended up finding a place in their hearts. A place in their family.

“I’m sorry you lost her.” Nebula said earnestly, despite her voice being the same monotonous voice she always used.

“Yeah… Me too.” He nodded carefully. “So you won!” He exclaimed, feigning happiness. He didn’t think he could sit and talk about Y/N any longer. It was still so fresh, the image of losing his only daughter. “Have fun?” Tony asked, offering his hand to shake.

“It was fun.” Nebula nodded, shaking his hand.

That was less than a week after Thanos and the battle on Titan. It was pushing the three week mark, maybe even beyond it, by the time he was able to gather the strength to make the message he was dreading. He leaned forward to tap the side of his damaged helmet.

“Guess I should say something, huh?” Tony sighed, a heavy sadness falling on him. “I don’t know, Y/N/N, maybe there’s nothing to say. You’ll never get the chance to see this, and maybe that’s my fault. This is just so I know that I said it to you, even if you can’t hear it…

“Y/N, honey, I’m sorry. I wish more than anything I could’ve saved you. Because you and your mother were what got me out of bed everyday. You were undoubtedly the best thing to ever happen to me. And if I had the chance, I’d trade my life for yours.

“Oh, man. This is hard. I love you, so so much. More than I could ever put into words… But I guess you did that when you were a kid, huh? Forever and ever... Just didn’t think there’d be an end to our forever.

“Well, I’m not gonna bore you with the details of what’s going over here. Just wanted to check in and let you know that I love you and I really messed up time. I failed you, and I have to live with that… Just- Just know that when the inevitable catches up to me and I can’t pull an ace out my sleeve - that ace was usually you - that I’m gonna think about you. Love you, Cupcake.”

Tony ended that message and decided he had to deliver one more. There was someone else who needed to hear Tony’s voice, for possibly the last time.

“This thing on?” He opened with. Tony wanted to leave a message for Pepper, praying that she was okay. But a different part of him was afraid there was going to be no one to receive the message. “ Hey, Miss Potts... Pep. If you find this recording, don't post it on social media. It's gonna be a real tear-jerker. I don't know if you're ever going to see these. I don't even know if you're... if you're still... Oh god, I hope so.” Tony didn’t think he could cope with losing his wife and daughter. “Today is day 21, uh 22. You know, if it wasn't for the existential terror of staring into a void of space, I'd say I'm feeling better today. The infection's run its course, Thanks to the blue meanie back there. You'd love her. Very practical. Only a tiny bit sadistic. Some fuel cells were cracked during battle, but we figured out a way to reverse the ion charge to buy ourselves about 48 hours of time. But it's now dead in the water. We're 1000 light years from the nearest 7-11. Oxygen will run out tomorrow. And that'll be it... And Pep, I- I know I said no more surprises, but I was really hoping to pull off one last one. But it looks like... well you know what it looks like. Don't feel bad about this. I mean, if you grovel for a couple of weeks, and then move on with enormous guilt. I should probably lie down. Please know that... when I drift off, I will think about the two people that meant the world to me… And that’s you and Y/N.... Because it's always you two.”

Nebula helped Tony off the floor and into one of the seats. She even got him a blanket. Nebula knew there was nothing left to do for Tony. There was no way to get the Benatar back to Earth, and no way to help Tony. He would die in the middle of nowhere in space, alone.

As Tony was drifting off, a bright light shone in his face. He tried to ignore it, but it grew brighter and brighter until he couldn’t ignore it. When he opened his eyes, he saw a woman. A woman with blonde hair, a red and blue suit, and glowing a strange blue glow. But Tony didn’t care to ask how she found them. Maybe she could get them home. He felt hope in his chest, a feeling he hadn’t felt in weeks.

And that was exactly what she did. The mysterious space woman was able to guide the Benatar back to Earth, more specifically to the Avengers Compound. Inside was Steve, Nat, Bruce, Pepper, and Rhodey. The incoming ship caused the compound to shake, steadily picking up intensity until the Benatar landed. Nebula helped Tony out the ship and down to the ground as Steve ran to his friend to help.

“Couldn’t stop him.” Tony managed as he walked with Steve.

“Neither could I.” Steve admitted. Steve glanced behind Tony, expecting to see Y/N right behind him.

“I lost the kids.” Tony mumbled, saying it out loud to someone who wasn’t there to see it made it feel fresh again. The image of his daughter disappearing mid-sentence and then the image of Peter disappearing in his arms flashed in his mind.

“Tony, we lost.” Steve said, hoping to console and show solidarity.

“Is uh..” Tony couldn’t ask the question. He couldn’t get his brain to ask Is Pepper alive.

“Oh my god!” Pepper said, rushing to Tony so she could hug him tightly. “Oh my god!”

“It’s okay.” Tony said gently as he held her close. And for the first time in nearly a month, something actually was okay.

Tony now sat inside, an IV inserted into his arm as everyone tried to brief him on what he missed on Earth. The words Rhodey spoke held no weight in Tony’s frazzled mind. Behind his friend were projections, images that resembled mugshots. Images that showed the people that were gone. Some were smiling, like Peter’s, while others were more serious, like his daughter’s.

“It’s been 23 days since Thanos came to Earth.” Rhodey began.

But Tony’s mind wandered. He saw things that were his daughter’s. Her childhood drawings were still on the fridge. Her picture was still hanging on the wall. A framed photo of her and Peter was still on the desk. The mask plate to her first suit was still on the corner of her desk, right beneath her computer screen.

“So where is he?” Tony asked, suddenly full of anger. Full of pain.

“We don’t know.” Steve shrugged. “He just opened a portal and walked through…. Tony, you and Y/N fought him.”

“What?” Tony asked in shock. “Who told you that? No, he wiped my face with a planet and used my daughter as a punching bag while the Bleecker Street magician gave away the Stone. There was no fight, alright? He’s unbeatable.”

“Did he give you any clues?” Steve pressed. He knew he shouldn’t have. He knew he should’ve let Tony rest and ask questions later. But his own grief was pushing him to continue, pushing him to find some sort of lead. “Any coordinates? Anything?” Steve was practically begging.

“I saw this coming a few years back.” Tony said casually, in an ‘I-Told-You-So’ type way. “I had a vision… I didn’t wanna believe it. Thought I was dreaming. You know, I told Y/N about it? And she was ready to wade through Hell and high water with me, if that’s what it took.”

“Tony, I’m gonna need you to focus.” Steve tried to steer Tony back to the present.

“And I needed you.” Tony emphasized. His anger now to a point that he didn’t care to try to control. “As in past tense. Oh, and so did Y/N. Did you know she looked for you for weeks after Germany?”

“No, I didn’t know.” He admitted sadly. “But you knew. Why didn’t you tell her?”

“Because obviously, we can’t count on you for anything.” Tony replied simply. “But that trumps what you need. It’s too late, buddy. Sorry.” Tony shrugged weakly. “You know what I need? I need to shave. And I believe I remember telling all youse-” Tony’s balance faltered as he went for Steve, but Rhodey was able to catch him. Rhodey tried to calm Tony, but the stubborn man continued his rage fueled rant. “Alive and otherwise what we needed was a suit of armor around the world! Remember that? Whether it impacted our precious freedoms or not- that’s what we needed!”

“Well, that didn’t work out. Did it?” Steve snapped. He understood that Tony was in pain, that Tony was grieving arguably more than he was. But Steve wanted to find a way to bring everyone back, to fix what they couldn’t stop. “We’ve got to do something. We owe it to those people-”

“I don’t owe anybody shit!” Tony countered angrily. “I owe my daughter a future. I owe Peter a future. But I can’t give it to them now, because you were too concerned about our freedoms. Look where that got up, Cap.” Tony said, his arms out to the side in a grand gesture.

“I said we’d lose.” Tony continued, his voice no longer full of rage. Instead, his voice was soft, the voice of a man who had given up. Who had lost everything. “You said ‘We’ll do that together too’. And guess what? We lost. And you weren’t there… But that’s what we do, right?” Tony’s anger was resurfacing as his daughter’s face flashed on the holograms again. “We’re the Avengers, we’re the Avengers. Not the Pre-vengers?”

“You made your point.” Rhodey tried, hoping to settle his unstable friend. Rhodey knew Tony better than anyone, could read him better than everyone. He could see the grief in his face, the loss in his eyes. Tony had been through a lot in the past ten years, since Loki first came to New York. But losing his daughter and the kid he had been mentoring at the same time, in the same way, that was a whole different kind of hurt. A kind of hurt that no person deserved. “Just sit down, okay?”

“Nah, nah.” Tony scoffed. “Here’s my point. You know what?”

“Tony, you’re sick.” Rhodey tried again.

“She’s great, by the way.” He pointed to the mysterious space woman. He learned her name was Carol Danvers, an Air Force pilot from the 80’s who had gotten her powers by exploding a Kree reactor. “We need you. You’re new blood. Bunch of tired old mules!” He ranted as he crossed the room to stand face-to-face with Steve. “I got nothing for you, Cap. I got no coordinates, no clues, no strategies, no options. Zero. Zip. Nada. No trust. Liar.” He spat, the venom soaked his words. Tony didn’t care to be polite or kind. Tony didn’t care about anything anymore. He pulled his housing unit off his chest and slammed it into Steve’s hand. “Here. Take this. You find him, and you put that on. Then you hide.”

“Tony-”

“No, cause that’s what you’re good at, right?” Tony mocked. “Hiding? Running away when people need you the most? You lost someone a month ago? So what. I lost my daughter. I don’t care who you lost. It’s not the same. So don’t talk to me like it is.” After that sentence, Tony fell to the floor, losing consciousness on the way down. But he dreamt of her.

You’re twelve years old, designing your own suit. You aren’t planning any of the specifics. You don’t worry about the technical aspects or the functionality of it. You are more concerned with what it would look like. You draw a suit like your dad’s, red with gold accents and the centerpiece of a glowing, blue Arc Reactor. You draw the suit without the mask, filling it in with your own face instead.

“Dad?” You ask, running up to his desk and waving your paper at him. “Dad, when can I be a superhero? I want to be like you!”

Tony laughs a little, picking you up and placing you in his lap. He stares at you with a delighted smile and proud eyes. He doesn’t know how he got as lucky as he is, but he thanks the universe everyday that he has you. “How about this?” He says happily, sliding the glove he’s working on onto your hand. The glove tightens to fit your skinny wrist, lighting up and moving with your hand. “This is a starter piece. When you build the rest of the suit around it, you can be a superhero.”

“Do I get a superhero name?” You ask excitedly, posing heroically with your dad’s glove. “Something cool, like yours!”

“Nope, you don’t get to copy mine.” He shakes his head with finality. “You’ve gotta come up with your own.”

“But I want something cool like yours..” You whine.

“How about this? You can buy it for the low, low price of a million dollars.” He offers with a wink.

You huff and cross your arm, thinking of a counter offer. “How about my dessert for the next month and I promise to only put on the suit when you need help. I’ll be your sidekick!”

“Hmm, no.” He shakes his head, putting you back on the ground and pulling the glove off your hand. “Nope. Iron Man works alone.”

“But Tony Stark works with Y/N Stark.” You counter with a coy smile. “So it’s not ‘Iron Man’ working with anyone. It’s like father-daughter bonding!”

“Father-daughter bonding.” Tony laughs. “That’s a good one. I’ll use that on your mom later when she asks why you’re always drawing suits.”

“You’re the best.” You smile.

“I know.”

“I love you, Dad.”

“I know.”

“Forever.” You hold your hand out for him to take.

“And ever.” He grins, taking your hand. You two lift your joined hands up and then come back down, solidifying your promise. No matter what happens, you know you’ll always love and trust you’ll dad. You’ll follow him anywhere, help him with anything. And Tony knows just how amazing you’re going to be, and he couldn’t be prouder.

Outside the room where Tony rested, the others talked about going after Thanos. They had managed to pinpoint where Thanos was, thanks to Nebula’s help. Bruce tried to reason with the small group, acknowledging that they were lacking in numbers. Carol was the one who suggested using the Stones to bring everyone back. While it seemed unlikely, impossible even, the Avengers knew there was no other option.

Later that day, everyone except Tony was aboard the Benatar and headed to Thanos. But they were too late. Thanos had used the Stones to destroy the Stones, leaving no chance of changing what he had done. The only outcome that had any effect was that Thor decapitated the Titan, offering himself closure but no real comfort.

There were no options left, no hope. No second chances. All of those that were left had no choice but to move on, to start over. But no matter how much time passed, there was a void in everyone’s hearts. A void that no amount of time could heal, that no new people could replace. But people had to try.

Five years had passed. Five years since Tony had watched Peter and Y/N fade away. He could finally talk about her without wanting to cry. He could remember her fondly instead of painfully. He could tell Morgan about her without feeling like he was leaving her behind. He wouldn’t say he felt whole again, but he had learned how to live with the hollow feeling. He knew Pepper was beside him, feeling the same emptiness that he did. But Tony would argue that he felt it deeper since he watched her go, since he heard her final sentence be cut short.

Tony wandered his property, clapping his hands. He had hoped that would’ve gotten their attention.

“Chow time!” He announced happily. But when he got no response, he called her name. “Maguna? Morgan H. Stark. You want some lunch?” He sat on a log near a small tent, waiting for Morgan’s appearance.

She came out of the tent wearing an all-too-familiar helmet. “Define lunch or be disintegrated.” She responded playfully.

“Okay, you should not be wearing that, okay?” Tony said, gently taking the helmet off her head only to be greeted by a mischievous smile that reminded him of Y/N. “That was a part of Y/N’s first suit designs. She was very proud of this.”

“Okay.” She nodded.

“Are you thinking about lunch?” Tony continued his original conversation. “I can give you a handful of crickets on a bed of lettuce.” He teased.

“No.” Morgan laughed.

“That’s what you want.” Tony joked. “How did you find this?”

“Garage.”

“Really? Were you looking for it?”

“No!” She responded quickly. “I found it, though. Y/N had all the cool stuff.”

“Yeah, she did.” He smiled fondly. “You like going to the garage, huh? So does daddy.. It’s fine, actually. Y/N hadn’t touched that thing since she upgraded.”

As Tony was walking Morgan back into the house, a black car rolled up. Steve, Scott, and Nat exited the vehicle. Tony hadn’t heard from them since he returned to Earth five years ago, so he knew whatever they wanted to talk to him about wouldn't be anything he had wanted to be involved in.

They talked on the porch, Scott explaining his wild idea.

“Now, we know what it sounds like…” Scott tried to reason.

“Quantum fluctuation messes with the Planck Scale, which then triggers the Deutsch Proposition. Can we agree on that?” Tony offered. The three looked between each other, visibly confused, as Tony handed each of them a drink.

“Thank you.” Steve quickly added politely.

“In Layman’s terms, it means you’re not coming home.” Tony simplified.

“I did.” Scott defended.

“No, you accidentally survived.” Tony corrected. “It’s a billion to one cosmic fluke. And now you wanna pull off a… What do you call it?”

“A time heist.” Scott chuckled.

“Yeah, a time heist.” Tony nodded. “Of course, why didn’t we think of this before? Oh, because it’s laughable? Because it’s a pipe-dream?”

“The Stones are in the past. We can go back and get them.” Scott pushed.

“We can snap our own fingers.” Nat added. “We can bring everyone back.”

“Or screw it up worse than he already has, right?” Tony countered.

“I don’t believe we would.” Steve said honestly.

“Gotta say, sometimes I miss that giddy optimism. However, high hopes won’t help if there is no logical, tangible way for me to safely execute said time heist,” Tony said firmly. “I believe the most likely outcome would be our collective demise.”

“Not if we strictly follow the rules of time travel.” Scott defended. “That means no talking to our past selves, no betting on sporting events-”

“I’m gonna stop you right there, Scott. Are you seriously telling me that your plan to save the universe is based on Back to the Future?” The fact that it was reminded Tony of Peter, the way he made plans based on what he saw in movies.

“No.” Scott answered, now embarrassed.

“Good. You had me worried there.” Tony nodded. “Cause that’d be horse shit. That’s not how quantum physics works.”

“Tony..” Nat pressed. “We have to take a stand.”

“We did stand.” He replied sadly. “And yet, here we are.. Some of us, anyway.”

“I know you got a lot on the line. You got a wife, a daughter. But I lost someone very important to me. A lot of people did.” Scott desperately said. He practically begged for Tony’s help. “And now- now we have a chance to bring her back. To bring everyone back. And you’re telling me you won’t even-”

“That’s right, Scott. I won’t even. I got a kid.” Tony agreed. “I already lost my daughter, five years ago. She would’ve been twenty two this year, but I watched her turn to dust. So, no. I won’t.”

“Mommy told me to come save you.” Morgan said as she ran up to her dad, who picked her up easily.

“Good job, I’m saved.” He told her before turning to Steve. “I wish you’d come here to ask me something else. Anything else. Honestly, I- I missed you guys, It was… Oh, and the table’s set for six.”

“Tony, I get it.” Steve spoke up. “And I’m happy for you. I really am. But this is a second chance for all of us.”

“I got my second chance right here, Cap.” Tony sighed. “I can’t roll the dice again. If you don’t talk shop, you can stay for lunch.”

“You think if it was the other way around, and you were gone, Y/N would say no?” Steve tried.

“You think Y/N would risk all of your lives just for me?” Tony scoffed.

“I think Y/N would take on Thanos by herself if it meant she could get you back.” Steve said simply. “You were everything to her and you know that. If there was even the slightest chance to get you back, she would do it.”

“She was a kid.” Tony argued, careful not to raise his voice since he was holding Morgan still. “She’d be stupid to try your Time Heist. The answer is no, Steve. I’m sorry, but I’m not losing again.”

Later that night, Tony was washing dishes after dinner. He had accidentally rinsed a spoon with too much water, and it shot out on the surrounding photo frames. When he was drying them off, he realized it was the photo of him, Y/n and Peter took with his Stark Internship certificate. The excitement in Peter’s eyes was obvious, as was the admiration in Y/N’s. He figured he might as well run some numbers, see what the actual probability of the Time Heist was.

“And don’t worry if it doesn’t pan out. I’m just kinda-” Tony rambled as F.R.I.D.A.Y. completed the sim.

“Model rendered.” Her automated voice said, showing a 99.987% success rate.

“Shit!” Tony exclaimed with a chuckle.

“Shit.” A small voice repeated from behind him.

“What are you doing up, little miss?” He whispered.

“Shit.” She repeated.

“No, we don’t say that. Only Mommy says that word. She coined it, belongs to her.”

“Why you up?”

“Cause I got some important shit going on here.” Morgan gave her dad a look. “What do you think? No, I got something on my mind… I got something on my mind.”

“Was it Juice pops?” Morgan asked excitedly.

“Sure was.” Tony nodded. “That’s extortion. Great minds think alike. Juice pops, exactly was on my mind.” Tony said, leading Morgan to the kitchen after glancing at the rendered model one last time.

After the two got their Juice Pops, Tony brought Morgan back to her room.

“That face goes there.” Tony said, pushing Morgan’s face into her pillow.

“Tell me a story.” Morgan said tiredly.

“Once upon a time, Maguna went to bed. The end.”

“That’s a horrible story.” She laughed.

“C’mon, that’s your favorite story.”

“Tell me a story about Y/N.”

“A story about Y/N..” Tony repeated. He thought of what story to tell Morgan. He had so many amazing memories with his daughter, so many laughs, so many triumphs. But there were just as many pitfalls. Every high had a low. “Once upon a time, there was a girl named Y/N. She was super smart and crazy popular, just like her dad. She wanted to be a superhero. She wanted to help people. But she wanted to help her dad the most. And she did. She helped her dad everyday from the moment she woke up to the moment she fell asleep. And then she did it all again the next day. But then, she had to go. She didn’t want to, but she had to.”

“She coming back?” Morgan asked, her eyes half shut.

“Love you tons.” Tony smiled, not wanting to promise anything. Tony wasn’t even sure he wanted to do anything with his successful model.

“I love you 3000.” Morgan replied.

I love you forever. And ever.

“Wow.” He whispered. “3000. That’s crazy… Go to bed or I’ll sell all your toys.”

He went downstairs and found Pepper, reading a book on composting. He tried to listen, but his attention kept shifting back to the successful model that still illuminated his table.

“I figured it out, by the way.” He interjected, unable to keep it in any longer.

“You know, just so we’re talking about the same thing-” Pepper said, wanting to make sure she knew what he meant.

“Time travel.”

“What?” She asked in obvious amazement. “Wow… That’s amazing and terrifying.”

“That’s right.”

“We got really lucky.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“A lot of people didn’t.”

“No, I can’t help everybody.”

“It sort of seems like you can.” Pepper pressed. “Or at least help the person you even considered this for.”

“Not if I stop.” Tony countered. “I can put a pin in it right now, and stop.”

“Trying to get you to stop had been one of the few failures of my life.” She joked. “And so was trying to get Y/N to stop..”

“I sometimes feel I should put it in a locked box and drop it at the bottom of a lake… Go to bed.”

“But would you be able to rest?” She offered gently. “Tony, you did all of this because there’s the chance that you can get our daughter back. I know that’s why you did it. And I also know that you’ve hardly gotten any real rest in the past five years. You’re happy with Morgan, but you still need Y/N.”

“She was the best parts of both of us.” He smiled fondly.

“And the worst parts of you.” Pepper joked.

“She was not!” Tony said, feigning offense.

“She was just as stubborn as you are!”

“I can get her back..” He whispered, as if the words hadn’t truly set in yet. There was a viable chance to bring Y/N back. And he had to take it. “Morgan is gonna love her.”

“Morgan already loves her.” Pepper laughed.

The next day, Tony rode over to the Compound. He was conflicted still. Yes, he had the chance to get his daughter back but was it worth risking the daughter he had now? Tony would have to make sure that he didn’t lose what he found. As he drove up, Steve was waiting outside, seemingly distraught. 

“Why the long face?” Tony asked as he rolled down his window. “Let me guess. He turned into a baby.” Tony teased, jumping out the car and heading to the trunk.

“Among other things.” Steve answered hesitantly. “What are you doing here?”

“That’s the EPR Paradox.” Tony explained. “Instead of pushing Lang through time, you pushed time through Lang. It’s tricky, dangerous. Someone should’ve cautioned you against it.”

“You did.”

“Oh, did I?” Tony joked. “Thank God I’m here. Regardless, I fixed it.” He proudly lifted his newest toy. “A fully functional time-space GPS. I just want peace.” Tony threw up a peace sign. “Turns out resentment is corrosive. I hate it.”

“Me too.” Steve agreed.

“We got a shot at getting these stones, but I gotta tell you my priorities. Bring back what we lost? I hope to God, yes. I’d absolutely love to have Y/N and Peter back. Keep what I got? I have to, at all costs. I can’t lose another kid, Cap. And… maybe not die trying would be nice.”

“Sounds like a deal.” Steve smiled, offering his hand for Tony to shake. “We’re gonna get her back.” Before heading inside, Tony pulled something else out of the trunk. He had a new shield for Steve.

“Tony…” Steve hesitated.

“Why?” Tony questioned. “He made it for you. Plus, I don’t think Y/N would recognize you without it and I need to get it out of the garage before Morgan takes it sledding.”

“Thank you.” Steve said honestly.

“Will you keep that a little quiet? Didn’t bring one for the whole team.” Tony stopped and turned to Steve. “We are getting the whole team, yeah?”

“We’re working on that.” Steve replied.

Tony worked with Bruce and Scott to design the Quantum Suits. They resembled the Ant-Man suit with Stark styling. Nebula contributed the helmet design. She said Peter Quill used the same tech. Tony jokingly called her friends the Rings of Uranus. The only thing left was a test run, to which Clint volunteered for.

After the test was successful, they had to figure out when to go to get the Stones. Nat and Clint went after the Soul Stone, Thor and Rocket for the Reality Stone, Bruce for the Time Stone, Tony and Scott for the Tesseract which contained the Space Stone, Steve went for the Mind Stone, and Rhodey and Nebula went for the Power Stone. Everyone had enough Pym particles for one round trip. No one could afford to mess up.

“We can all stand around posing up a storm later.” Past Tony said, hauling Loki to his feet. “By the way, feel free to clean up.”

While the familiar scene played out in front of Tony and Scott, they conversated with Steve about the unflattering fit of his old suit. Scott said that he could tell the undercover HYDRA agents, because they even looked like bad guys.

“Miss Stark?” JARVIS had alerted 2012 Y/N, unbeknownst to either Tony. “There appears to be a second Tony Stark in the building. Your father is descending in the elevator with the others. Should I alert Mr. Stark?”

“What?” 2012 Y/N questioned, leaving the table in your dad’s lab to see the projection JARVIS had given you. It was Y/N’s dad but older. He carried himself with the same Stark pride, but Y/N could tell something heavy was weighing on his shoulders. “Where is this?”

“He is headed to the ground floor.” JARVIS replied. “Dr. Banner is in the stairwell so it seems he’ll be taking the elevator.”

“I’ll intercept him.” 2012 Y/N said, her curiosity taking over. “Let me know if he changes course.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

2012 Y/N headed out of the lab and towards one of the elevators. Y/N knew her dad and the rest of the team was heading down with Loki. The SHIELD team designated to take the Scepter would be in a different elevator. So she had hoped she’d get an empty one and you did. She quickly made her way to the ground floor, able to beat her dad’s doppelganger.

“Who are you?” 2012 Y/N asked when face to face with the older version of her dad. “Well, I know who you are but it doesn’t make sense.”

“Uh, Y/N..” He said softly. A part of him knew that he would see her, but he still wasn’t prepared for it. She was so young, so innocent. The fights and bruises and scars and tiredness hadn’t gotten to her yet. “What are you doing down here? I thought you were working on-”

“I was in the lab until JARVIS told me-” She began before shaking her head quickly. “Don’t distract me! When are you from?”

“Y/N, hon, listen.” Tony said, a slight sigh in his voice. “I’ll be gone in a few minutes. Please. Just pretend you never saw me.”

“Pretend I-” She said in shock. “Do you really expect me to forget that an older Tony Stark lookalike was wandering the Tower the exact day Loki was here? No, you came here for a reason.”

“Y/N?” 2012 Tony called, drawing her attention.

“Don’t move.” She told Tony before hurrying to her dad.

“Alright, move it Stuart Little.” Tony said to Scott, who had slid into 2012 Tony’s Arc Reactor. “Things are getting a little dicey and she won’t leave me alone for long.”

“You promise me you won’t die?” Scott checked.

“You’re only giving me a mild cardiac dysrhythmia.”

“That doesn’t sound mild.”

“Pull my pin!” Tony insisted quietly.

“Here goes!” Scott exclaimed before disconnecting 2012 Tony’s reactor. 2012 Tony fell to the ground, grasping his chest. 2012 Y/N dropped to her knees, calling for a medic. Scott kicked the case to Tony, who picked it up and headed off. Just as it seemed to have gone to plan, 2012 Hulk came barrelling through the door as he yelled about hating stairs. The door flying opened knocked the case from Tony’s hands and sent the Tesseract sliding away.

So Tony and Scott sat in a broken down car, waiting for Steve to leave the Tower. They had one chance. It had to be perfect, but it wasn’t. He had the Tesseract in his hand and he lost it.

“Sorry, buddy.” Tony explained when Steve came out. “We got a problem.”

“Huh, yeah we do.” Scott agreed quickly.

“Well, what are we gonna do now?” Steve asked in defeat.

“You know what, give me a break Steve.” Tony defended himself. “Y/N just interrogated me like I was in cahoots with Loki and I got hit in the head with a Hulk.”

“You talked to Y/N?” Steve asked with raised eyebrows. He was almost insinuating that his conversation with Y/N was the reason he lost the Tesseract.

“No, it was more like she was yelling at me for being in my own building.” Tony countered. “Imagine that. My own daughter scolding me for being in my building.”

“You said we had one shot. This- this was our shot. We shot it. It’s shot.” Scott ranted anxiously. “Six stones or nothing. Six stones or nothing.”

“You’re repeating yourself, you know that?” Tony interrupted. “You’re repeating yourself.”

“You’re repeating yourself.” Scott countered childishly. “You’re repeating yourself.”

“I dropped the ball.” Tony said simply.

“You ruined the time heist.” Scott whined.

“Is that what I did?”

“Yeah!”

“Are there any other options with the Tesseract?” Steve asked loudly, trying to refocus the two.

“No, no, no. There’s no other options. There’s no do-overs. We’re not going anywhere else.” Scott argued. “We have one particle left. Each. That’s it, alright? We use that- Bye bye. You’re not going home.”

“Well if we don’t try-” Steve emphasized. “No one else is going home either. Not Bucky.. Not Hope.. And not Y/N.”

“I got it.” Tony said simply. “There’s another way, to retake the Tesseract and acquire new particles. We’ll stroll down memory lane, military installation. Garden State.”

“When were they both there?” Steve questioned.

“They were there at a- I’ve a vaguely exact idea.”

“How vague?”

While Tony and Steve conversated as if it was obvious, Scott was left in the dark to ask questions that no one would answer. Tony told Scott to get back to the Compound, while he and Steve went to the 70’s. Tony headed off to find the Tesseract, where he ran into his father on the way. Steve went to find Dr. Pym, where he saw Peggy on his way.

“I guess I’ll be eating dinner in the pantry again.” Howard joked.

“I have a little girl. Well, two girls but my oldest is in high school.” Tony said with a proud smile.

“A girl would be nice… Less of a chance she’d turn out exactly like me.”

“What’d be so awful about that?” Tony asked. “My oldest is just like me.”

“Let’s just say that the greater good has rarely outweighed my own self-interests.”

“Where are you with names?” Tony asked, trying to make light conversation until Steve showed up.

“My wife likes Elmonzo for a boy.”

“Might wanna let that stew awhile.. You got time.”

“Let me ask you a question.” Howard said in turn. “When your kid was born- either of them- were you nervous?”

“Wildly, yeah.” Tony laughed. “But those two are the best things that ever happened to me.”

The two finished their conversation before Tony snuck off with Steve. The two went back to the present, where they met with the rest of the team. Everyone except Natasha. She had given up her life so Clint could bring back the Soul Stone. After a tense interaction by the lake, they agreed that Nat’s sacrifice had to be worth it. It had to work.

Rocket and Tony fit the Stones into a Gauntlet. Thor argued to be the one to snap, his personal grief was leaking out. He wanted to do something right, to help fix what he didn’t stop. But Bruce was the one to snap. He said he was made for it since the radiation from the Stones was mostly gamma.

“Remember, just bring back everyone Thanos snapped away to today. Don’t change anything from the past five years.” Tony reminded his friend.

“Got it.” Bruce nodded.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y. do me a favor and activate Barn Door protocol. Will you?” Tony asked as he gave Bruce space.

Metal sheets covered every window in the Compound, locking down the facility. Bruce put on the gauntlet, screaming in pain as the power surged his body. Painfully, he snapped his fingers before passing out, allowing the gauntlet to slide from his hand.

Everyone waited, time seemingly froze. They had no idea if it had worked. They started to wonder if it had been for nothing. Until Clint’s phone rang. It was his wife, his wife who had been lost in the Snap five years prior. They could hear the birds outside the Compound. Everything seemed to be looking up, until a barrage of missiles hit the Compound.

Back on Titan, you finished your original thought.

“-ever.” You said slowly, stepping in a small circle. Your dad was gone. But Quill and the rest of his friends were back, holding onto each other and checking on one another. Strange was there, watching as if he was waiting for something specific to change whatever path you were all on. “Peter…” When you didn’t get a response, you tried again. “Peter!?”

“What?” Quill yelled.

“Not you, moron.” You rolled your eyes. “Where’s my Peter?” You asked Strange.

“Why would I know that?” Strange questioned.

“You seem to know everything else.” You rolled your eyes. “While we’re at it, where’s my dad?”

“And Nebula.” Quill added.

“What happened?” You asked finally.

“Y/N?” Peter asked from the ground. He was laying on his back a few feet away from you.  “What the hell just happened?”

“Oh my god!” You exclaimed in relief. You rushed to his side and dropped to your knees. He quickly took your hand in his, squeezing it tightly. “Are you alright?”

“Little queasy but otherwise, I think I’m alright.” He offered a small smile.

“Hey, promise me something.” You said quickly, your joy of seeing him again taking over any rational thoughts.

“Anything.” He grinned.

“Once everything is in the clear, you take me on a date.” You said with a smirk. “A real date too, not just hanging out at my place.”

“Uh, yeah!” He said happily. “Yeah, for sure. Any- anything you want, Y/N.”

“We need to get back to Earth.” Strange announced. “It’s been five years since Thanos and the fight on this planet. Thanos won and snapped his fingers, wiped out half of all life. The ones left on Earth managed to reverse what Thanos did, which is how we’re all here right now.”

“So where’s my dad?” You asked again, helping Peter to his feet. “If we’re all back and everything was reversed, why isn’t he here with us?”

“Your dad didn’t disappear when we did. He’s back on Earth but Thanos is there, right now. We need to get to Earth.”

“In case you forgot, my suit is wrecked.” You laughed. “When we fought Thanos last time, we got our asses kicked. What makes this time different? Is this the one?”

“I can’t tell you that. But it’s different because you’ll be together this time.” Strange vaguely answered. “Now, you need to get to your lab to deal with all of that.” He gestured to your lack of a suit, as well as the gash you had forgotten about.

Strange opened a portal to a lake house. He stepped through and motioned for you to follow. When you crossed through, you didn’t recognize the area. The lake was new. The house was new. A lot had changed in five years apparently. A gentle squeeze of your hand let you know Peter was with you.

“Wait…” You said, taking a couple cautious steps forward. “Where are we? I thought you were taking me to my lab. My suit is- I need-”

“You’re where you’re supposed to be.” Strange interjected. “Go to the front door.”

“I’m not going up to a random person’s front door.” You laughed. 

“Uh, Y/N?” Peter interjected quietly, pointing to something low behind you. You slowly turned and saw a small girl standing behind you, staring at you in confusion.

“Hi.” You said awkwardly. “What, uh- What’s your name?”

“Morgan.” She smiled. “Who are you?”

You opened your mouth to speak but saw something familiar around her neck. You knelt to her level, reaching for the pendant but deciding against it. You noted small details about her. Her brown hair, her round face. She seemed sweet, welcoming. Her eyes were kind, full of wonder and hope for the world. You wondered if she knew what happened five years ago.

“That’s a pretty necklace.” You commented. It was the prototype housing unit you designed. After you wore it, you realized you didn’t like the long necklace so you ditched it for the bracelets. The necklace was still a cute accessory, but you wondered how Morgan got it. “Can I ask where it came from?”

“Garage.” She said simply, her small fingers grasping the pendant. “Daddy said Y/N would let me have it.”

“Who’s Y/N?” You asked carefully.

“Daddy said she wanted to be a superhero, but she left. She was smart and popular.”

“Y- Your daddy?” You stammered. “Is your dad’s name Tony?”

“No.” She shook her head. “He’s just Daddy.”

“Okay, fair enough.” You chuckled. “Listen, I uh- I know your dad. Can you take me to the garage? The garage where you found the necklace.”

“I have to ask Mommy.” She held out a hand for you to take. You stood and took her hand, reaching quickly for Peter with the other. “Do you know Mommy too?”

“Y/N, it’s okay.” He nodded, squeezing your hand once before stepping back. Once you felt his grip disappear, you nodded for Morgan to start walking.

“Yeah.” You said suddenly, remembering she had asked a question. “I knew her a few years ago, before this super crazy thing happened.”

“Crazy?”

“Totally.” You nodded, earning a small chuckle from her.

“Mommy!?” She yelled as she entered the home. “I found Y/N!”

“Wha- How did you know?” You said, stopping in your tracks.

“Daddy talks bout you a lot.” She said before pointing to a collection of photos on the wall. “And your picture is everywhere.”

“Huh.” You smiled. “Guess he did miss me.”

“Morgan, honey, what are you yelling about?” Your mom came around the corner. “Oh my god.”

“Hi mom.” You smiled, hurrying across the room to hug her tightly.

“I can’t believe it.” She mumbled into your shoulder. “You’re here. Oh, my god, you’re here. Your dad really did it.”

“Wait, Dad? What did he do?” You asked, the smile still stuck on your lips as you pulled away slightly. “How did he do it?”

“Your dad figured out time travel, Y/N.” She said, still in amazement.

“That’s awesome.” You laughed. “But also terrifying! Anyway, Morgan said she found some of my stuff in the garage… I need to reload my bracelets and if there’s time, update to Dad’s new network.”

“You’re not gonna find what you need in the garage.” She shook her head, heading to a table in a room off of the Living Room. “One, cause it’s a mess. Two, cause your dad told me to give you these if you came by.”

She handed you a set of bracelets, engraved with an arc reactor and the word Stark. They fit your wrist perfectly, a slight blue tint to the metal. They were light, light enough that you could barely tell you were wearing them.

“Woah.” You mumbled in amazement. “These are awesome.”

“And fully upgraded from what I heard.” Your mom added.

“No shit.” You exclaimed, tempted to tap them together and see what upgrades your dad gave you.

“Shit.” Morgan repeated from beside you.

“No, no, no!” You exclaimed quickly. “That’s an adult word, Morgan. You can’t say it.”

“Shit.” She giggled.

“No!” You whined. “Mom is gonna kill me!”

“You’re right about that.” She nodded.

“Hi, sorry to interrupt.” Strange said, suddenly at your side. “But we need to go. Pepper, you’re gonna wanna suit up and come too.”

“I forgot about Rescue!” You exclaimed.

“What about Morgan?” Pepper countered.

“Happy Hogan.” He said, gesturing to Happy who was sitting on your parents’ couch. “We have to go now. Steve Rogers is standing up to Thanos alone.”

“Alone?” You asked, a heavy feeling in your chest. “Where’s my dad?”

“We have to go.” Strange said simply.

“If I get there and he isn’t okay-” You said seriously, knocking your bracelets together. “You are going to be the one to answer for it.”

The suit was remarkably light. You watched the reflection in the window as the nanites spread to cover your body. It moved with ease, as if you weren’t wearing a suit at all. The design was sleek, the way you had always made your suits. It was colored to mimic your dad’s, but your dad had added more gold accents to yours. You wondered what else your dad had upgraded it with, but you knew you’d find out in time.

Strange turned and opened a portal for you, Peter, and your mom to step through. Your mom hurried into the room wearing Rescue. You all quickly went through, armed and ready to fight. The scene you came out to was insane. Strange and his friend Wong had gathered everyone willing to fight.

You recognized T’Challa and his sister Shuri, who you had yet to meet but knew to be brilliant. You saw Bucky and Wanda on the other side of the battlefield. Hundreds of people from Wakanda, spaceships full of people, a woman on a Pegasus, a woman who could shrink the way Scott could. People from all over the universe were collected for the fight.

You saw who you thought was Thor, now holding an axe and seemingly gained a belly the size of a basketball. Steve had a broken shield and Mjolnir, which didn’t quite surprise you. But you still couldn’t see your dad.

“Do you see him?” You asked Peter.

“I do.” Your mom answered. “He’s alright.”

“Avengers..” Steve said over comms. Your body tensed, your heart rate picked up. The adrenaline began rushing through your veins. You weren’t quite sure if it was fear or excitement taking over your thoughts, but you let it wash over you. You looked out at the vast army before you, stretching into what seemed like forever. You sent out a silent prayer to whatever God would hear you, asking to keep you on the one path that would save everyone. “Assemble.”

All hell broke loose. Fighters charged from either side. You were separated from Peter early, having to fend for yourself. Your new suit was highly responsive, picking up on things before they entered your peripherals. The power it had was insane, cutting through Thanos’ army like butter. Your dad had added new extensions to the suit; displacer sentries, stabilizing thrusters, energy refocusers, an upgraded unibeam, and liquid nitrogen cannons. 

Finally, you made your way to your dad. The fighting seemed to go around you two, as if the universe knew you two needed a minute. You let your helmet fall away, as did your dad. You both stood frozen for a minute, wondering if it was real.

“I got back and you were gone.” You said simply, your throat now tight. You blamed it on the dirt being kicked up from the fight. “Strange didn’t tell me where you were… Kinda freaked me out.”

“Well, I didn’t wanna hang out on an abandoned planet for five years.” He tried to joke. “Had to get back to your mom.”

“When I came back, I- I thought you-” You felt the tears coming. “I thought you were gone, Dad. And not just gone, like somewhere else, but gone as in dead. And then I thought how I didn’t want to live without you and I- I got really scared, Dad.”

“Y/N/N..” He said gently. You quickly closed the distance between you two and hugged him tightly. “It’s alright. We’re alright.”

“I love you, forever.” You mumbled into his shoulder.

“And ever.” He smiled.

You pulled away and sniffled, wiping your eyes quickly. “You have to tell me how you did it later. Time travel!? That’s insane. Oh! And Morgan, she’s super cute.”

“Morgan?” Tony eyebrows furrowed. “You met Morgan?” He smiled softly.

“Yeah, I met her when I went to get Mom and this awesome new suit.” You smiled, gesturing grandly to the suit you wore. “Which is incredible, by the way. I’m in love.”

“Hey! Holy cow!” Peter exclaimed as he ran into your dad. “You will not believe what’s going on. Do you remember when we were in space? And I got all dusty? I must’ve passed out, because I woke up and you were gone. But Doctor Strange was there, right? He was like ‘It’s been five years. Come on, they need us.’ and then he started doing the yellow sparkly thing that he does all the time and-”

You rolled your eyes in amusement as Peter rambled. Your dad was watching him with a soft look in his eyes, glancing quickly between Peter and you. Tony felt a deep sense of relief, a heavy weight lifted from his chest by seeing you two in front of him. The two people that he wanted to bring back were now in front of him. You stepped behind Peter and nudged him forward. Peter stumbled into Tony, who hugged the boy tightly. “This is nice.” Peter said gently.

“As grateful as I am to have you two alive, we have bigger issues.” You commented, seeing the van that was sounding off with La Cucaracha. “We need to get the Stones to that van.”

“How long do you need to get it working?” Tony asked Scott.

“Ten minutes, maybe.” He answered.

“Who has the Stones?” You asked as you, your dad, and Peter jumped back into the fight. You dodged attacks from either side, effortlessly spinning and ducking shots and projectiles. You saw Clint running through the crowd, one arm tucked against his chest. “Clint has them but he’s gonna need help.”

You were headed that way when you felt your leg being dragged down. You looked and saw a Chitauri soldier had grabbed your ankle and was pulling you down to the ground. You let yourself fall for a moment before turning gravity against the Chitauri and getting your feet aligned with it’s chest. You bent your knees slightly, using the alien as a push off. The thrust from your boosters burnt the Chitauri’s wrist to the point where it released you. You quickly shot off a blast to put a hole in it’s chest as it hit the ground. Your attention turned back to Clint as you saw him become surrounded.

“Hey.” Tony told Strange below you, causing your path to stop so you could listen. “You said one out of 14 million we win, yeah? Tell me this is it.”

Strange glanced up and saw you waiting for his answer. “If I tell you what happens, it won’t happen.”

You rolled your eyes within your helmet and took off. T’Challa got to Clint so you changed your course. You decided on a bit of revenge until you were needed to help move the Stones. “F.R.I.D.A.Y., give me locations on Thanos and Peter.”

“Peter is approximately 36 feet to your left with Shuri, no critical damage to the suit indicates no dire injuries.” Her automated voice answered quickly. “Thanos is six feet straight ahead. Maximoff approaching the target.” She showed you a zoomed image of where the Titan was.

“Keep me posted when those Stones change hands.” You ordered as you landed next to Wanda.

“You took everything from me.” She said angrily.

“From us.” You added, charging a blast from your palm.

“I don’t even know who either of you are.” Thanos replied.

“You will.” Wanda said simply, her eyes glowing red as her power swirled around her.

You stood watching in awe for a moment before remembering where you were. You shot your blast at the charging Thanos, knocking him off balance. Wanda quickly followed up with two huge rock piles, both were knocked in pieces by his sword. Wanda launched quick bursts at him, each one more powerful than the last.

You flipped over Thanos, sending off shots from above and then behind him. Together, you and Wanda brought the Titan to his knees. Wanda kept applying pressure, Thanos groaning in pain.

“The Stones have transferred hands to Peter.” F.R.I.D.A.Y. told you.

“You got this?” You asked, your focus now completely shifted. “I gotta go.”

“Go.” She nodded.

You took off quickly, F.R.I.D.A.Y. guiding you to Peter’s location. You find him surrounded by Chitauri, but his artificial limbs assisted him in the fight. You landed with enough force to push the last few Chitauri away from him and into someone else’s attack.

“You know, I was on the fence about the instant-kill. But it came in handy, didn’t it?” You joked.

Peter chuckled before more Chitauri came at you both. They grabbed at you, throwing you to the side and focusing on Peter. Everytime you tried to help, five of them shoved you off. You heard Peter call for help, to which Steve threw Mjolnir for him to grab. You took off ahead of the Hammer, hoping to keep a clear path for Peter. Peter shot a web, using Mjolnir as a ride out of the chaos.

A shot from one of the ships sliced Peter’s web, sending him to the ground fast. You dropped until you were able to grab him.

“I’m always having to help you out, aren’t I?” You commented teasingly as you tossed him to the woman on the Pegasus. You flew alongside her until a shot came too close for you to successfully dodge and threw you into Peter. It knocked him off the Pegasus and sent both of you crashing to the ground.

Peter had gotten up and tried to run, to get the Stones a little bit closer. A blast from the cannon landed right in front of him, sending him flying backwards so he would land in front of you. The impact shattered his artificial limbs and he let his mask fall away. He grabbed the gauntlet and tucked into a ball to protect himself from the shots still coming. You pushed yourself to your side as you put up an energy shield over you and Peter.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., what are they firing at?” Tony asked as some of the cannons changed direction, the question playing in your helmet too as the system showed a projection of an incoming object.

“Something just entered the upper atmosphere.” She responded.

“Let’s hope it’s on our side.” You mumbled, momentarily dropping the shield to watch.

You looked up to see a bright flash of light break through one of the ships, disabling it and going through it once again to slice it in half. You were so impressed by the power it had that you almost didn’t notice the falling rubble. 

“Little help would be nice!” You yelled over comms as you threw up another shield, to which Steve asked Danvers to help. You had assumed Danvers was the one who broke the ship in half so you kept still until help arrived. You dropped the shield and stared in awe as Peter spoke.

“Hi.” He said quickly, still keeping the gauntlet close. “I’m Peter Parker. She’s Y/N Stark.”

“So cool.” You said simply.

“Hey, Peter Parker.” She chuckled. “Y/N Stark. I saved your dad once. He ever tell you that?”

“He did not. But I came back to a giant war so there hasn’t really been time..” You nodded, pushing yourself to your feet and put your helmet on again.

“You got something for me?” She asked Peter, nodding towards the Stones.

“I don’t know how you’re gonna get it through all that.” Peter said tiredly as he stood and handed over the gauntlet.

You noted how tired he was, how beat up he was. But he was still ready to fight. Your heart ached, and you quickly realized that you didn’t just like Peter Parker. You loved Peter Parker. The revelation didn’t surprise you, but you wished it had come at a better time than that moment.

“Don’t worry.” Wanda said as she landed next to you.

“She’s got help.” One of the Wakandan warriors who you later learned to be Okoye added. Your mom joined the group, along with Pegasus woman, Valkyrie. Mantis, Hope Van Dyne,  and Nebula showed up, along with Shuri and Nebula’s sister, Gamora. Together, you fought through the army to get the Stones to Scott’s van.

You and your mom focused your fire high, aiming at ships and taller enemies. You followed behind Danvers, working on keeping her path clear. Thanos charged Danvers, dead set on stopping her for the Stones. You, your mom, Shuri, and Hope shot beams at him, knocking him to the ground.

“After this, you gotta show me how you made those.” You yelled to Shuri, who looked over and laughed slightly. “I’m Y/N, by the way.”

“Shuri. You seem to be doing well with what you have.” She teased. “Is it new?”

“First time in it.” You answered with a proud nod. 

“Really, Y/N?” Your mom commented. “Now? Your dad just upgraded that suit for you.”

“You wanted me to make friends.” You defended, focusing back on the task at hand.

You all added extra force to throw Thanos back. He rolled, lifting his attention to where Danvers was headed. Since you all wouldn’t let him get to Danvers, he decided to destroy where she was headed. He threw his sword into the tunnel, destroying it and sending a massive energy wave that launched everyone back.

“The gauntlet is about twenty meters behind you.” F.R.I.D.A.Y. told you. “Mr. Stark can reach it but Thanos is already on his way.”

“Not if I have anything to say about it.” You replied, pushing yourself to your feet. You took off in a sprint before pushing off a short ledge, taking flight and headed that way. You watched your dad tackle Thanos before getting elbowed away. Thor and Steve kept him back, using Mjolnir and Thor’s new axe to their aid. Danvers beat you there and fought him off a minute, until Thanos threw her to the side.

You helped your dad up to his knees and watched Thanos put the gauntlet on. You and your dad dropped your masks, not worried about them anymore.

“Not again.” You whispered fearfully.

Danvers came back just in time, stopping him from snapping his fingers. She had the upper hand until Thanos pulled out one Stone and used it to send her flying. Strange looked over at you two, holding up one finger to tell you both that there was only one way.

Your dad stood slowly, understanding what he was meant to do. You understood it at the same time so you grabbed his hand, hoping to pull him back to you. “Dad, please.” You begged. “No. No! It’s not worth it.”

“I can’t lose again.” He said softly.

“Think about Morgan.” You tried desperately. “A-and me. I just got you back.”

“I am thinking of you two.” He replied gently. “I love you, forever.” He said before running to Thanos, trying to take the Stones from him.

You looked to Strange again in anger. You wanted to take it out on Strange, but the look he gave you made you reconsider. Strange looked at you as if you had a role to play, as if it wasn’t just about Tony. You and your dad had been through everything together. You had been glued to his side since Loki first arrived in New York. Every fight, every training session, every injury, and every upgrade you were there. You started it together. You had to end it together.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y., did my dad ever add the suit-to-suit interface to exchange nanites?” You asked quickly, running through the possibilities. “If he gets those Stones away from Thanos, it’s too much energy for him to handle. It needs to be dispersed.”

“It’s added but I’ll need time to activate it.” Her automated voice said. “Opening the entirety of both suits to interface with each other-”

“I don’t need a whole suit.” You cut her off. “My left palm. His right shoulder, upper shoulder. Clavicular region.”

“Less than a minute. Initiating interface.”

You ran over to your dad as he was knocked away. Your steps froze when Thanos raised his hand again and your dad laid face down.

“I am inevitable.” Thanos said in triumph. You braced for the second Snap, but nothing happened. You noticed a faint glow from your dad’s suit so you started running again.

“Interface available in 5… 4… 3… 2… 1… Interface active.” F.R.I.D.A.Y. announced to you.

Tony knelt in front of the Titan, Stones in hand. He shoved them into his suit, a Stone aligned with each knuckle. He thought about what he was going to do, the risk he was going to take. Someone had to do it, and it seemed only Tony could. But his mind brought back words that weighed on his heart..

Years ago, Steve had told him “The only thing you really fight for is yourself. You’re not the guy to make the sacrifice play, to lay down on a wire and let the other guy crawl over you.”

Peter said “I just wanted to be like you.”

Y/N had argued “I don’t know how to live a life without you and I don’t want to. I shouldn’t have to!”

Morgan had told him with a smile “I love you, 3000.”

Pepper once told him “You’re all I have too, you know.”

Y/N would always say “I love you, forever.”

But the heaviest one was what Strange had told him just minutes before, “If I tell you what happens, it won’t happen.”

“And I…” Your dad panted. You could see the power of the Stones coursing up his suit, scorched marks climbing to his neck. You got to him quickly, standing beside him. You placed your hand on his shoulder, the energy diverting up into your body as the nanites mixed.

It was white hot, burning every cell in your body. It was intense, scorching every nerve it touched. Your fingers trembled, your pulse beat unevenly. Your stomach muscle clenched, your knees shook. But despite it all, you stood tall. You gathered yourself with a deep breath and spoke.

“We.” You emphasized.

“We-” Your dad nodded slightly.

“-are Starks.” You two said together before he snapped his fingers. The surge brought you to your knees beside your dad, who used his other hand to reach across himself and steady you. You made sure to keep your left hand where it was, refusing to move it until you could get the Stones out. You two watched as every soldier Thanos brought, his whole army, turned to dust the way you did five years ago. Thanos sat on a nearby rock as he turned to dust himself.

You and your dad manage to get to a nearby debris pile where you turned and leaned your backs against. Your dad coughed as you reached over and pulled the Stones from his suit and dropped them next to you. You saw the relief in his posture once you took the Stones away.

“One hell of a day back.” You tried to joke, to which you both laughed weakly.

“You shouldn't have done that, Y/N/N.” Tony said weakly.

“There was only one way, remember?” You countered. “I had to. We started this together, we end it together.”

“Love you, kiddo.” Your dad smiled at you.

“Forever.”

“And ever.”

“Y/N?” Peter said gently. “Mr. Stark?” Peter ran up to you both, falling to his knees between you two. He gently took one of your hands in his. “Hey. Can you guys hear me? It’s Peter. We won. Y/N, Mr. Stark, we won. You did it. You guys did it.”

“You-” You coughed, smiling weakly at him. “You still owe me… a date, Petey.”

“Anywhere you want, Y/N/N.” He laughed sadly. He leaned forward and hugged both of you. “You’re gonna be fine, I promise.”

“Maybe not this time.”

Gently, Peter was guided away from you two, tears slowly falling down his face and leaving streaks in the dirt that covered his cheeks. You smiled softly, knowing you really did love the boy. You wanted to get up and comfort him, wrap your arms around him and hold him tight. But you didn’t have it in you. You could barely manage to keep your eyes open.

Your mom knelt in front of you two where Peter was. She sighed gently, trying to put on a brave face, but she was hurt the most. Your heart sank when you saw the pain she was in. She was looking at two of the three people that meant the world to her, sitting before her and fighting for their lives. She had watched her family sacrifice themselves for the world, a sacrifice those two - especially those two - never should’ve had to make.

“Hey.” She said softly. “You’ve both looked better.”

“Hey, mom.” You said as your dad answered, “Hey, Pep.”

“F.R.I.D.A.Y.?” She said, hoping for good news.

“Intense emergency surgeries needed. Immediate treatment raises survival rate by about 60%.” Her automated voice answered.

“Brother.” Shuri whispered to T’Challa as Pepper gently comforted her family. “I think I can heal them in my lab. They don’t have to die.”

“How would we get them there?” T’Challa asked honestly. He wanted to help them, but he didn’t think it’d be possible. “It is too far to guarantee there’d be time.”

“We can’t leave them to die here.” Rhodey commented. “We gotta at least take them home.”

“It’s okay.” Pepper nodded to you two. “We’re gonna be okay, alright? You two can rest now.”

“Love you, Mom.” You whispered. “Tell Peter… Tell him I love him too.”

You smiled softly at your mother before leaning your head back against the debris. Your eyes drifted shut, your body feeling heavy. You gave into the darkness as your dad did the same. The reactors in both of your suits faded to a dull glow, not quite off yet.

“The reactors aren’t off.” Peter noted, his voice strained from his pain. Not physical pain, but emotional pain. He had become so close to Y/N Stark to the point where he thought he loved her. She meant so much to him in the short time he knew her, so much so that he convinced himself she was his soulmate. He didn’t even believe in that kind of thing until he met her. Now he really wished he hadn’t hesitated. “They’re not gone.”

“Peter-” Steve tried to console him. Steve was feeling the loss too. He was devastated. Y/N and Tony were both practically family to him, the only family he had left. And now they were gone. They gave up their lives to save the world. Steve felt a pang of guilt, that even though they got everyone back, they still lost. Steve had insisted on it, that they would win this time around, but they still managed to lose.

“I can hear it!” He yelled, his voice breaking. “Their hearts are still beating.” He looked back to Y/N and Tony, their eyes shut. “They’re not gone. Just look!” He threw both hands forward, gesturing to the center glow of their chests.

“So what do we do then?” Thor asked. “The Compound is ruined. How are we supposed to help them?”

“Take them home.” Carol suggested. “You, Sparkles.” Carol pointed to Dr. Strange. “You can make portals. Make a portal to take them home, and then we go from there.”

“What do you actually think we can do for them?” Strange questioned defensively. “Those Stones-”

“I think that Peter Parker is onto something.” Carol countered easily. “Make a portal to take them home.”

“They won’t survive.”

“If you’re so sure,  at least let them die somewhere they’d be comfortable.” She rolled her eyes.

“We have the technology to heal them.” T’Challa spoke up. He figured it was the least he could do, to offer whatever Wakanda could give to help. “If you can get them home and keep them stable, Shuri and I can get what we need and bring it to you. But we’d have to hurry.”

“And you’re sure they’re alive?” Strange asked Peter.

“One hundred percent.” He responded confidently, his eyes on Y/N. “I know it.”

Strange opened two portals, one to Wakanda and one to the Stark’s lakehouse. Carefully, Rhodey scooped up Tony and Peter carried Y/N. Pepper went through first, hurrying to get Morgan out of the house so she wouldn’t see what her dad and sister looked like. Tony and Y/N were carried to their rooms and gently set up in their beds.

Wong helped the rest of those who fought get home. Steve, Bruce, Clint, and Thor followed the Stark family to their home, as did Carol. Dr. Strange went with T’Challa so he and Shuri would have a quick way back to Tony and Y/N. Pepper asked F.R.I.D.A.Y. to disable the suits so their housing units could be taken off and to keep their vitals posted. Both of their pulses were extremely weak, but they were still there. They were both put on ventilators - Tony kept a few on hand just in case the Compound wasn’t the best option for treatment - and were given an injection of painkillers.

Peter had been right.

Pepper stayed with Tony in their room, while Peter argued to stay with Y/N. Steve had offered, told Peter he should get home and get some rest, but Peter set himself up in the window nook and refused to get up.He had washed the dirt and blood off his face and out of his hair, his wet curls still dripping onto his shirt slightly. Despite using cold water to wake himself up, he still just wanted to curl up and sleep.

He called May after Steve left the room and went downstairs to talk to others. He had taken off his suit, leaving him in the clothes he had worn to the field trip, before he had gotten on the spaceship. 

“Hey, May.” Peter said tiredly. He was exhausted, every muscle ached. He wanted to lay in his own bed and sleep for a year, but he knew what his priority was at the moment. “You okay?”

“Where are you, Peter?” She asked anxiously. “I- I called you twelve times and you didn’t answer. Are you okay? You- you never came home from your MOMA field trip and I-”

“I’m fine.” Peter cut in. “I- I got caught up in that dusty thing a few years ago.”

“Yeah, yeah, I think I did too.” She paused, letting out a heavy sigh. “Come home, Peter.”

“I can’t.” He said sadly. “Y/N, she got hurt real bad, May… I can’t leave her right now.”

“You love her, don’t you?” May asked, a small smile on her lips that Peter didn’t need to see to know it was there.

“Yeah.. I think I do.” Peter chuckled nervously. “I never got a chance to tell her.”

“You’ll get one… Don’t miss it.”

“Love you, May.”

“Love you too, Peter. Text me before you go to sleep and call me in the morning.”

“Will do.” And with that, Peter hung up the phone.

A small knock on the door sounded before it was cracked open enough for a small child to slip inside. She shut the door carefully behind her, as if she was used to sneaking around the house. She ran across the room until she stood in front of Peter, looking at him with her head tilted slightly. Slowly, unsure of what to do, Peter pulled his legs to his chest to make room for her. She climbed into the open space and crossed her legs, dropping her hands in her lap.

“Morgan, right?” Peter asked, leaning his head back as he tried to stay awake.

“Who are you?” She asked plainly.

“Peter Parker.” He gave a lazy salute.

“Are you her boyfriend?”

Peter chuckled. “No.. Not yet, at least.”

“You like her?”

“I do.” He nodded with a lazy smile. “I like her a lot.”

“She’s pretty.” Morgan said, as if Peter hadn’t noticed that. “Is she hurt the way Daddy is?”

“How do you know that?”

“I was sneaky.” She whispered, bringing one finger to her lips to emphasize how quiet she was. Peter chuckled in response.

“Yeah, Y/N is hurt.” Peter said carefully. “But she’s gonna be okay. You know why?”

“Cause she’s like Daddy.” She said confidently. “And Daddy is Iron Man.”

“Yeah, but also because she has to come back to her family. You and your mom and-”

“And you.” Morgan cut in. “Want to make a card with me?”

“You go get started and I’ll meet you down there.” Peter responded, holding out his pinky. “I just need a minute and I’ll go downstairs after. Pinky promise.”

“Okay.” She nodded, quickly finishing the pinky promise. “Bye, Peter!” She said before quickly sneaking out of the room, leaving just Y/N and Peter.

“When we met, I never thought we’d end up here..” Peter said to Y/N, even though he knew she probably couldn’t hear him. “After everything we’ve been through, it kinda seemed like you were invincible. Nothing could really take you out like this. I mean, yeah, we both came out of everything with some sort of aches and pains, but not like this.

“I know you’re fighting for your life, Y/N/N. And I know you have your own reasons to fight, but I gotta ask you to fight for me. Please… I just- I love you, Y/N Stark. And I want to be able to tell you when you can actually acknowledge it. I- I want to take you to parties and school dances. I want you to come to Decathlon a-and laugh at how easy the questions are because you’re brilliant.” He chuckled lightly before closing his eyes, curling in on himself a little more. “Just come back for me, please.”

A light knock sounded before Shuri entered, a cart of equipment being led in behind her. Two Wakandan soldiers followed behind with her equipment, setting things up while Shuri went and spoke to Peter. Peter sat up slowly, unsure of how long he had been asleep.

“We can take it from here.” She told Peter, gently putting a hand on his shoulder. “You should get something to eat, Peter. You look starved.”

“Yeah..” He nodded slightly. “But I have a card to make first.” He smiled lazily before taking one last look at Y/N. “She’s gonna make it, right?”

“I’m going to do everything I can.”

“Oh, she kinda got stabbed like right here-” Peter’s hand hovered over Y/N’s side, where he remembered Thanos using her suit’s blade against her. “That was before we got dusted so I don’t know if it’s still there but…” He shrugged, pausing to decide if he wanted to ask his next question. “How’s Mr. Stark doing?” Peter asked carefully, now fully knowing if he was ready to hear how his mentor was. “Is he gonna..”

“Mr. Stark is going to be okay.” Shuri promised. “We could not save his arm, but we saved him. The only thing I don’t know is how soon he’ll wake up. His injuries were rather traumatic and that kind of shock takes a toll on the human body.”

“Thank you.” Peter said honestly. “For being on my side back there and believing they could be helped. And for being willing to help them.”

“The world owes them a debt that can never be repaid.” Shuri said honestly, scanning Y/N with her Kimoyo Beads. “It is the least I could do.”

“I’ll leave you to it then.” Peter nodded before heading downstairs to join Morgan in her card making.

Steve handed Peter a plate of food and two water bottles, reminding Peter that he had to take care of himself too. Most of the adults stayed in the other room, discussing their worry in quiet whispers. Carol sat with Peter and Morgan around the coffee table, each of them making a card. Morgan was finishing her card for Tony, while Peter worked on one for Y/N and Carol made one that was meant for both of them. Carol and Peter took turns telling jokes or making fun of their own drawings to make Morgan laugh. By the time they were done, they each made a card for Y/N and Tony, until Morgan fell asleep against Peter.

“You really care about them, don’t you?” Carol asked Peter once Morgan was asleep.

“Y/N and Mr. Stark believed in me when no one else did.” Peter began fondly. “When I went with them to Germany to fight Captain America, she told me that I was going to have to put up with her for a long time. She told me that she wasn’t gonna let anything bad happen to me, that we had to stick together. But now... It’s different. When she smiles at me, I feel dizzy. When she laughs, I can’t help but laugh with her. Even when she looks at me, I- I don’t know how to explain it.”

“I can explain it.” She smirked at him. “That’s love, kid.”

“It is?” Peter asked. “That’s kinda what I had hoped it all meant.”

“Did you ever tell her?”

“I had a chance… But I hesitated.” He admitted, remembering on Titan when he wanted to kiss her. “But if I had known this would’ve happened-”

“Yeah, but you didn’t know.” She cut him off. “What matters now is if you’re gonna hesitate next time?” She challenged.

“God, I hope not.” Peter chuckled.

Soon, Shuri and her brother, along with the two Wakandans that came with her, were coming down the stairs. Most of the equipment was packed and being carried with her. Peter was careful not to move and wake Morgan when Shuri came downstairs.

“They’re both going to make it.” She said with a proud smile. “However, there are some things we could not fix.”

“Like what?” Steve asked tensely.

“We could not save Mr. Stark’s right arm. The damage was too severe.” Shuri explained. “They’ll both have burn scars up into their chest and neck area. Mr. Stark’s may even reach the side of his face. As for Y/N..” She paused to show a detailed image of the inner workings of the lower arm, the nervous system breakdown and muscular system. “This is what her right arm looks like, the one that didn’t take on the energy of the Stones. And this-” She swiped to a new image, an image where some of the nerves were in pieces. “-is her left arm. Unfortunately, her damage seemed to have found its way to her nervous system. Some nerves were seared through, meaning she has lost all sensation in her left arm, as well as some of her finer motor control.”

“So what exactly does that mean for her?” Pepper asked anxiously.

“It means she will not be able to fully move her fingers and possibly her wrist, and she won’t physically feel anything at any point on her left arm. But she will live.” Shuri explained. “I’ve also healed a stab wound she had from her first fight with Thanos, and there won’t even be a scar.. They should wake in a few days. They are both on IV drips with painkillers. I’ve done all I can.”

And with that, Shuri left. One by one, the rest of the Avengers that were there left. Peter left the following morning, having fallen asleep on the floor with Morgan. Happy drove him home, but Peter fell asleep again on the way. His body was more exhausted than he had been letting on, and now it had caught up to him.

He tried to get back to normal life. He went back to school, saw Ned and MJ. He went back to Decathlon, but it just didn’t feel right to him until he could hear your voice again. A few days after he was settling back in, he got a call from a number he didn’t recognize.

“Hey, Spiderman.” You said. Your voice was as sweet as honey, making his heart beat three times faster. “Got time for a visit?”

“For you?” Peter replied, pretending he had to think about it. “Definitely. Where at?”

“Right here.” You said, stepping out of the car to stand in front of him. “Hey, Peter.” 

“Hi.” He breathed a sigh of relief. Seeing you standing before him, your long-sleeved shirt buttoned up to the top to hide the burns, it made his chest feel tight. He wanted to hug you, to pull you against his chest and never let you go. But he hesitated, just slightly. His biggest concern was how fragile you were.

“You’re looking at me like you’re scared.” You commented, scrunching your eyebrows in confusion. “I thought you’d be happy to see me.”

“I am!” He promised quickly. “I am happy to see you. I just… I have something I want to tell you.”

“I have something I need to tell you too… But it can wait till that date you owe me.” You winked.

“No, it can’t wait.” Peter said, swallowing hard and gathering all his courage. “I wanted to tell you this back on Titan, but I chickened out.”

“Peter, it’s not that serious.” You laughed nervously. “It can wait until tonight, okay?”

“No. It can’t.” He insisted, grabbing your hand. “Y/N, I- I love you and I really want to be with you.”

“That’s great.” You smiled widely, squeezing his hand gently.

“What?”

“Peter, I realized something before this.” You gestured to your left arm. “When Carol came to help us, and I got a good look at how beat up you were but you were still willing to fight… When we were on the beach and you wanted to make sure Toomes didn’t die even though we were on opposite sides… When we were in Germany and you said you trusted me… There are so many little moments between now and the moment I met you that have brought me to this one, single, recurring idea.”

“And what idea is that?” Peter asked smugly, taking a step closer to you. Suddenly, his confidence was through the roof.

“That I love you, Peter Parker.” You smiled widely. “And I really want to be with you.”

“That’s… amazing.” He sighed happily. “Otherwise this could’ve been really awkward."

[fertileimaginationvault]

I Never Even Told You (part 2) - Superbat (DCEU Series)

During the time he had been drinking tea and eating pie with Clark and Martha Kent, Bruce wondered what he had gotten himself into.

The plan was simple. Make sporadic visits to Martha Kent, make sure she had everything she needed; try to make her life as easy as possible in Clark's absence, and leave.

It all worked out perfectly, until Bruce himself decided to bring Clark back to life. That alone would be enough reason for him to stop visiting Martha Kent once and for all and go back minding his own business in Gotham, right? Wrong. He kept coming. The quick visits became a cup of coffee in the living room, which became conversations accompanied by a cup of coffee or tea with biscuits and (countless) slices of pie in the modest farmhouse kitchen.

Two years ago, Bruce would sit in that same chair in front of Martha Kent while she cried, telling him stories about Clark, about his childhood, about how much she missed him. And all Bruce could do was watch her in pain, without being able to do anything else but saying how sorry he was and to accept as many slices of pie as she wanted to offer him.

Now Clark was back. He was alive in front of them, chatting and laughing with them, protesting the fact that he couldn't eat another slice of pie Martha had prepared especially for Bruce's visit. But Bruce himself couldn’t help but thinking that he shouldn't be there, that it wasn't his right to share a private moment with a family he almost destroyed. And all because he was blind with hatred. What a great irony fate has provided him... Clark was still pouting while Martha insisted that Bruce should eat another slice of pie and more biscuits and have some more tea.  “You should stay for dinner, Bruce, you look so wan...”, she said almost as if to herself. "Hasn’t Alfred been feeding you?" "He tries." Bruce allowed himself a rather bitter laugh, which became a smirk to Clark, who was watching him, resting his own chin on his hands, returning the gesture. "So you're going to stay for dinner.” Martha stated, staring at them with a knowing expression. “Mrs. Kent, I ...” "It wasn’t a question." “In this case,” Bruce accepted, feeling defeated. The relentless look on Martha’s face reminded him of Alfred, leaving him no choice. “I’ll gladly stay.” “Like you have any other option” Clark chuckled. “When Ma decides to feed someone, she does it.” “ I've notic- what are you doing?" “I don't think I've ever seen you eat so much food in one day!” Clark has taken his phone out of the jeans pocket to start filming Bruce while he ate. “I'm sending this to the kids. And also to Alfred. they’re gonna love it.” Bruce just glared at him in response, as if he could make the phone destroy itself by sheer willpower. “Ah, you're not going to stop eating now, are you?” "This is ridiculous”, Bruce muttered, still glaring at the camera, turning the simple act of eating a biscuit threatening. “Here we have Bruce Wayne, out of his natural habitat, feeding. Despite of usually hide in the shadows of Gotham, it’s known that he has come to the plains of Kansas to seek for eat human food...” “Clark!” Martha tried to scold Clark, but herself started to laugh in the moment she saw Bruce’s expression. “Pardon my son, Bruce. I swear I tried to raise him well.” “You are ridiculous." Bruce muttered to the camera and went back to ignore Clark, who was still filming him. He continued to eat, also trying to ignore how much Clark was laughing at him. “I know you tried your best, Mrs Kent. He’s just a lost cause.” “Hey!” Bruce could swear the sound of Clark’s laughter resonated throughout the house just like it reverberated inside his hollowed chest. It was light and pure as it was life itself filling him whole. He could hear that laugh for days without getting tired of it. However, Bruce knew that he should be content to listen to the small samples of it. Even though Bruce knew he wasn’t allowed to want that. ‘This is not for me’ he reminded himself ‘I don’t deserve that laugh. I don't deserve any of this ’. __________________________________________ Clark found Bruce on the porch, leaning against the railing as he watched the farm landscape bathed in the mix of golden and orange light coming from the sun setting in the distance. Clark got next to the other man who acknowledged his presence with only a side glance and a hesitant smile on the corner of his lips. The two remained there for some time, just admiring the landscape in front of them while Clark still tried to reassess all that has happened that day. Finding out that Bruce has been visiting the farm was more than just a surprise. It didn’t matter how long has been since their friendship started (even though it wasn’t that much) Bruce was still a mystery to him. He still had so many layers to peal off, so many sides to discover and uncover... it always made him wonder which one was the real Bruce Wayne. Bruce could be cold and distant most of the time but Clark knew that he was also kind to Victor and Barry, that he was patient and loving with his children, and very protective too. And now Clark knows he is a good company to Martha. Someone who comes to tea, someone who tries to fix her very old tv... and buys her a new one when he doesn’t get to fix it.

Someone who despite all that still keeps Clark at arms length. Regardless of their promise to trust each other more. “How long have you been visiting Ma?” He finally asked. “It’s been awhile...” Bruce answered without getting his eyes off the cornfield. It was clear that he didn’t want to have this conversation but Clark didn’t seem to care. “Why didn’t you tell me?” “You have every right to be upset-“ “I’m not upset about you visiting my mother, I just want to understand why did you think that you should hide that from me.” “You know why.” “Bruce,” Clark sighed, “I thought we were past this...” “Are we?” Bruce finally turned to face him, ready for a confrontation. “Well, yes?” Clark did the same, “If the last two years meant something at least.” “I just want to make sure your mother is safe. Since Luthor has escaped from Arkham she's exposed. We don’t know where he is or what he plans to do next. Luthor may try to hurt her again to get through you-” “Lex Luthor is my responsibility.” “Lex Luthor is our responsibility. I kept him in Gotham so I could keep my eyes on him and he has escaped anyway.” “You think he isn’t coming for you for being associated with me? What about your kids? You said yourself, he knows who you are. All of you.” “My children were trained to deal with this kind of situation. I know how to protect them and I know how to take care of myself.” “But I don't know how to take care of my mother because you didn’t trained me?” “That’s not what I- damn it.” They only noticed how close they were to each other when Bruce turned away from him, back at staring the cornfield, his hands curled into fists. “I shouldn’t have come here.” He whispered. Clark had lost count of how many conversations between him and Bruce became arguments. The smallest of disagreements was able to ignite a spark that brought all the tension between them back at its peak. However, Clark did not want to fight at that moment, and much less wanted Bruce to leave. “’I’m sorry, Bruce.” He came closer to the other man who turned to face him. “I don’t even know why I am freaking out about this, I mean, it’s good to know that Ma likes you so much. I was worried she didn’t...” “Were you? Why?” And there it was. The glint in Bruce’s eyes that always made Clark catch his breath. He couldn’t quite place what that meant, specially when Bruce watched him like he was a mystery to be solved. Clark only knew that he liked it. He liked how it made him feel, like Bruce thought of him as an object of fascination. He wanted Bruce to look at him like that forever even though he didn’t know why. “Uh.. well,” Clark swallowed hard, trying to find the right words, feeling the heat rising to his cheeks. He couldn't believe he was blushing. They were about to throw fists at each other seconds ago and now he's flustered by Bruce’s inquiring gaze. Get a grip Kent. “We’re teammates an-and also, friends... right? You have done so much for us. It’s obvious that Ma loves your visits... and... you’ve been taking care of her.” Bruce shook his head, chuckling in disbelief. His brown eyes reflected the golden rays of the sun that was slowly leaving the horizon when he finally faced Clark. “You’ve been doing the same for me, Clark, remember? You’re always looking after my children, even though you don’t have to.” “They make my life way more interesting,” Clark shrugged, grinning at him “I wouldn’t want it any other way.” “Off course you wouldn’t... I guess it’s like you said,” Bruce took a few steps closer, leaving to Clark the decision to close de gap between them, and Clark had to remember how to breath again, “we’re teammates. That’s what we do.” “That’s what we do...” He echoed Bruce’s words, suddenly not being able to control his laughter that came with realizing a little detail. “What now?” “You tried to... fix the old tv...” Clark almost couldn’t finish his sentence for laughing so hard at Bruce who was staring at him blankly. “Yes, and...?” Bruce said, confuse with Clark’s sudden laughter attack. “That thing was a hundred years old at least. It was already falling apart when I was a baby. No wonder why you couldn’t fix it.” “That didn’t keep me from trying.” Bruce shrugged. “I wouldn’t expect less from you.” Clark couldn’t help but tease, “It was cute to try, though.” “I just wanted to help.” Bruce mumbled, glaring at Clark who was trying not to laugh at his expression (again). “And it took me last than five minutes to realize that thing didn’t need a repair but someone to take it out of its misery.” “So you murdered my grandpa’s old tv to replace it for a new one with 4k definition?” “Yes. It’s part of my diabolical plan, to destroy everything you have so I can replace it with new and expensive stuff.” “You need help.” Bruce only smirked in response, basking in the sound of Clark’s laughter once more, trying to ignore how his chest ached for having the other man so close to him and yet at the same time so out of reach. “I’m sorry.” He whispered, accepting to be pierced by the pair of blue eyes that seemed to look right through his soul. “I should have told you I was visiting the farm.” “Yes, you should have. You don’t have to do this behind my back and you don’t have to buy us a bunch of things either, okay? No more tvs or new tractors... what?” Clark exclaimed as he noticed Bruce’s expression “You think I wouldn't notice a new tractor? Who do you think helps Ma around here?” “I just want to make sure your mother is comfortable, make things easier for her... and for you.” “That’s all you have done for the past two years.” Clark squeezed Bruce’s shoulder in a reassuring way, “I just want you to know that you don’t need to buy us something every time you come to visit. Just bring yourself. That will be more than enough.” “I’ll keep that in mind.” “Thank you for coming here and spending time with Ma, specially considering how busy you are. It means a lot.” “The pleasure is all mine.” _____________________________________________ Clark’s hand slowly fell from Bruce’s shoulder, running through the fine fabric of the suit that covered his arm but wasn’t enough to keep Bruce from fighting to suppress a shiver down his spine. Something almost impossible to achieve when Clark took his hand. “Don’t stop visiting, okay?” “I won’t.” Bruce answered without even thinking twice. Something about Clark’s eyes were so compelling that most of times, he had to fight with everything he had to manage to say no to him. Yet, right now he couldn’t put up a fight. Not when Clark looked at him like that, like nothing else mattered  more than Bruce’s promise to come back. “You can bring the kids next time...” Clark suggested. “Clark...” Bruce sighed, already feeling like paying the price for not being able to say no to the other man. “For the weekend.” Clark continued. “Clark.” “And bring Alfred too.” Clark seemed to pay him no mind. “I can’t impose my presence or my family’s here for a whole weekend. I don’t even think it’s safe.” Bruce winced just to think about spending the whole weekend at the Kent Farm breaking Jason and Tim apart during one of their fights. “You won’t be imposing. Ma loves having the house full and would mean a lot to her to welcome your family. To both of us, actually.” Clark inclined his face to meet his eyes, smiling shyly, “And I’d finally have a chance to show y’all how charming Smallville really is.” “Fine.” Bruce sighed, not knowing if it was for Clark's big puppy eyes or for his lack of willpower to be firm in his decisions at that very moment when Clark’s grin was bigger than never. “You’re a good man Bruce Wayne.” “You keep telling me that.” Bruce let out a bitter laugh. “I won’t stop until you believe it.” Clark insisted, holding Bruce’s hand a little tighter like he was making a point. “Then, I wish you good luck with what I believe will be a torturous task.” “I’m known to be very patient.” “You’re unbelievable, that’s what you are.” “Is that a good thing?” “In your case, it is.” Bruce had to brace himself not to be knocked down by Clark’s bright smile. They were so close to each other now, Bruce didn’t realize how they ended up like that, almost pressed chest to chest, sharing the same air. Their fingers entwined.

He tried to move away but his body wouldn’t respond to such command. This was insane, he should turn away, walk out of that farm without looking back. He shouldn't stay so close to Clark, he shouldn’t indulge himself in something that would never happen. But Clark was so warm, his eyes were so honest, so inviting... but surely not as inviting as his lips, so close to Bruce’s own... It was so easy. All he needed to do was to move an inch or so and their mouths would finally meet. And all the feelings Bruce has been burying deep down inside himself for the past two years would finally pour out... “Master Bruce?” Before any of them could make a move Alfred’s voice cracked in the comm link inside of Bruce’s ear, breaking the sudden bubble that shielded them from the rest of the world, bringing Bruce back to reality. “Yes, Alfred?” He sighed, finally finding the courage to move away from Clark, who he thought looked disappointed for the interruption. He tried not to dwell on that, turning his eyes to the cornfield once again as long as he listened to Alfred’s report in order to focus on the imminent mission the Bat of Gotham would have to face that night. “I’m terribly sorry for interrupting such a private moment, sir,” the sardonic tone in the butler’s voice made Bruce want to roll his eyes, “I thought you would care to know that the Gotham Bank is being robbed... again.” “What’s the situation?” “Harley Quinn have found herself new partners in crime and thought the Gotham Bank was a good place to start her new endeavors.” “And I here thinking she would finally come to her senses after breaking up with that lunatic... Are there any hostages?” “The bank was already closed to the clients so only the staff were there. I've already sent Master Tim and Ms. Stephanie. Ms. Cassandra had arrived from training and is already on her way.” “I’ll get there as soon as I can.” “Very well, sir. Send my regards to Master Clark.” “Bye Alfred.” Bruce grumbled as a reaction to the mocking tone evidently present on Alfred’s voice and tapped the comm link closed, turning to face Clark again. “Duty calls?” Clark asked hesitantly, as if expecting him to say no, although Bruce knew he would be able to listen to Alfred through the comms even from a far. “As usual.” He nodded firmly, feeling his heart sink as Clark’s smile slowly faded, yet doing his best to ignore it. He had work to do in Gotham. The City needed Batman and Bruce had to leave. He turned his back to Clark, heading to the door to find Martha inside the house. “Mrs Kent? I’m sorry but I have to leave sooner than expected. There is an emergency I have to attend to.” “Caped emergency?” “I see you understand that very well." Bruce couldn't help but soften before Martha's understanding gaze. How many times has she seen Clark rushing out the door to help someone on the other side of the world? Among all the people in the world, besides Alfred, off course, Martha Kent was the only person who could look at him like that and make him feel like he was doing the right thing. “Well, hurry then!” She walked him to the front door, “And come back soon. Don’t be a stranger.” “I won’t, I promise. Maybe I’ll bring my kids next time?” He said hesitant, not believing himself for agreeing with Clark on that. “That would be wonderful! You should all come to spend the weekend. And bring Alfred too, I’d love to talk to him about your eating habits.” “Of course, Mrs Kent." he chuckled, " And let me know if there’s anything you need.” “I will honey, thank you. Be safe, all right?” “I will.” Bruce took his coat before saying goodbye to Martha who didn't think twice before bring him for a hug, and went out to find Clark on the porch. “I told you she would love to have the kids here for a weekend.” Clark look at him smugly. “You worry too much.” “I worry enough.” “Do you need a lift?” “No, I brought the bat-wing.” Bruce touched the small screen of his smartwatch and the Bat-Wing appeared at the other side of the field. “Was that invisible?” Clark gasped, turning to Bruce's unimpressed expression, like that was something he did everyday. “I wouldn’t say invisible, it’s in a type of stealth mode. Victor and I have been learning a lot from the mother box and using its tecnology to improve our equipments and defenses for the cave and the headquarters. It’s still in testing phase but I’m sure it will work fine in long term use. Yet is interesting that even you couldn’t see it... maybe we should run some more tests having you as parameter...” “Nerd.” Clark teased.

“It takes one to know the other. At least I think that’s what Tim says... I’m not so sure.”

“Look at you talking like the young people do.” Clark chuckled at Bruce’s expression while trying to remember what were Tim’s exact words. “You know, If you need any help...” “I know.” Bruce nodded again, and turned to Martha, still standing at the door, “Goodbye Mrs Kent.” “Goodbye, honey. Be safe.” "Bye, Clark." "See ya." _________________________________ 

   Clark stayed there, in the porch, watching as the Bat-wing disappeared in the distance. trying to understend what just happened between him and Bruce (or what almost happened). He wanted to make sure that it wasn't just his imagination, Bruce so close to him, their hands linked, their lips mere inches away... And the sound of Buce's heart, desperately beating inside his chest just like his own. What would have happened if Alfred hadn't interrupted them? Clark starteld at the thought that he wanted to find out as long as he stared at the sky, in the direction of Gotham where the Bat-Wing has disappeared to human eye but Clark still could see. “And there he goes...” Martha said, as if she could read his mind, while coming from the door to stay by his side. “Yeah..." Clark let out a heavy sigh, taking a few seconds to turn his eyes from the sky to find Martha by his side, her arms crossed and staring at him with a knowing expression. "What now, Ma?” “I haven't seen you sigh like that since you had a crush on Lana Lang. I remember how you used to sigh every time she would walk past us down the street.” “Ma..." he groaned, trying to fight the heat build up his cheeks. " I don't have a crush on Bruce.” "No one is saying you do.” “I'm serious.” “So you're here looking at the sky and sighing for no reason?” “We're just friends, Ma.” even though Clark chuckled at his mother's words, his own words left a bitter taste in his mouth. He wasn't sure that he would say them again without feeling this way. “Alright...” Martha rolled her eyes, but decided she wouldn't insist. “I mean it!” “I’m not saying anything.” she tried not to laugh at her son, who was slightly blushed while trying very hard not to be. “Ma?” he called breaking their brief moment of silence. “Yeah?” “How long has Bruce been visiting you?” “Since the week after your funeral.” She answered promptly. “He showed up here one afternoon. I didn't recognize him from the start, I thought he was some reporter or someone from the government asking about you. But he told me who he was, and what happened that night... He felt guilty for not being able to save you... For trying to hurt you at first.” Martha’s gaze was on the horizon, like she could see Bruce flying his way to Gotham like Clark could. “After that he kept coming. Then I found out he had payed for your funeral, and he wanted to pay the debts when the bank took the farm. I didn't let him at the time, off course. I’ve told him I could do fine on my own and that he owed me nothing.” Clark took a few seconds to assimilate everything Martha had said. It never occurred to him that Bruce had asked for Martha’s forgiveness too, that he had taken upon himself the responsibility to take care of the mother of a man he didn’t know, a man he despised until the last minute. “Did he... did he tell you everything?” “Yes. It took me some time to digest it all, but I felt that he needed those visits as much as I did. I think he still does. When you came back, I knew it was him. And I thought he would stop visiting... but he still keeps coming here, once a week. Whenever he has the time.” “He... he never told me that.” “Didn't think he would.” “I just don't get him sometimes...” “And yet here you are, staring longingly at the horizon...” “Yeah... I mean, no! I...” Clark gave up on denying anything when faced by Martha’s unimpressed look. She knew him too well that it made pointless to lie about anything he might be feeling at the moment, even to himself. “You're right...” he admitted, helpless. “I'm always right. I’m your mother.” Martha hugged him by the waist. Clark returned the hug, resting his head on top of his mother’s. "I wish he would stay for dinner..." he whispered, taken aback by how sad he sounded. "Me too, honey.” She patted his back in order to comfort him. “But on the bright side, I have ice cream in the fridge and a new tv. What do you say?” “I say my night just got a little better.” “We're gonna have dinner and ice cream and we’re gonna watch all those old movies we both love...” “On your new gigantic tv.” “That thing is huge,” she snorted when turned her eyes back to the living room, “but Bruce was so worried he couldn't fix the other tv, I couldn't just say no...” “I know, he is so sweet... What now, Ma?” “Nothing! I'm just thinking... It’s good that he has so many kids, you know. I get a son in law and grandchildren in the same package.” “Ma, stop...” Clark and Martha had dinner and spent the rest of the night watching old movies on her new tv. He was glad she didn’t make any more comments about him and Bruce and their weird relationship. Still, her words gave him a lot to think.

As Clark has spent more time with Bruce, the more he has realized that the other man wore different personalities as different masks. The dark figure of the Bat, the inconsequential playboy facade, the emotionless person that pushed everyone away. Each one of them was a disguise Bruce has worn for years. Which made Clark a little more optimistic that one day he could get close enough to the point of taking every mask off, and reveal the real Bruce Wayne. He knew that was what he wanted for the past two years. Clark just didn't know what would happen when they get so close again like they did that afternoon, especially if there were no interruptions. He tried to shake that thought out of his head and focus on the movies and the ice cream he was eating but still keeping an ear in Gotham anyway to make sure Bruce and the Bat-kids were safe until they finally got home that night.

___________________

Notes: 

- It’s not the first time I write about superbat inspired by a song, and the song which inspired this was “I Never Even Told You” by Tia Carrere (hence the title), that is part of Batman: Mask of The Phantasm soundtrack;

- I had to post it in two parts becaus tumblr told it was too long - And I hope ya’ll liked it ;)

[iwantutobehapppier]

So You Made Some Bad PSA’s

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Female Reader

Summary: Steve’s continuing embarrassing behavior towards and about you deserved equal punishment right? Maybe showing Bucky the PSA’s Steve did a while ago wasn’t such a good idea. Super Soldiers never half-ass anything.

Warnings: Just cursing and some implied violence I guess? Pinning?  Once saw something that said aggressively continues to ignore canon, yeah sames.

Word Count: 4,280

A/N: I was watching the Rappin With Cap videos on youtube and wondered how much crap Bucky would give Steve if he found out about them. I hope this is as funny of an idea as I thought it was. Tagging my lovely waifu @sagechanoafterdark who said she didn’t know she needed this until I brought it up. Hope you enjoy lovely.

"You need to calm down," Steve's snooty tone only fueled the flustered feelings he had brought. By now you were red from your chest to your ears with embarrassment. With a huff, you spun on your heels and left him dumbstruck.

"It's not that big of a deal!" He called out only digging himself deeper into the proverbial hole.

You had never been so embarrassed in your life!!

“Self-righteous asshat,” you grumbled making your way to the gym to blow off steam instead of slapping the aforementioned asshat. Who said things like that around mixed company? What that man lacked with tact he held a surplus of righteousness.

Shoving the gym doors open you missed how your entry caught Bucky’s attention, sitting up on the bench press.

When you made a straight shot to the punching bag muttering "Star-Spangled douche" Bucky's suspicion of your explosive entry into the gym was confirmed.

Watching you wrap your hands he lifted a brow picking up the soft "Captain No Ass America". He laid back down and returned to his nearly maxed barbell, decidedly steering clear from your unpleasant mood.

The gym would have been peaceful for Bucky’s much-needed energy-burning exercise except all he could focus on was your insistent mutterings coupled with the sound of air rushing from gloves as you hit the bag with all the weight of your body.

You were all consumed in imagining Steve’s stupid face on the bag were you fists landed that when Bucky called your name out you jumped back startled.

“What’s got ya’ so riled up little spitfire?” Bucky’s arms crossed over his chest as he watched you in amusement. There was a multitude of things his punk of a friend did this time to jostle you so much. He was never good with dames.

“Your friend has no tact,” Bucky could only nod in agreement. “He doesn’t think before he opens that stupid perfect mouth of his!” He ignored the perfect part but certainly cataloged it for future proof of the fact you two were into each other. Which is often the cause of these semi-occasional fits.

“Has no regard for how embarrassing he can be sometimes,” you drug the palm of your hand across your face in exhaustion of both Steve and the energy you exhumed on the punching bag.

“Ya’ know how to get back at him right?” You looked at Bucky from between your fingers with growing curiosity.

“Embarrass him,” he pulled his arms out far “And I mean BIG time.” Bucky continued on. “I’m talking ‘bout something that will last for a good while.” 

“I love the punk, but he never learns unless he gets a taste of his own medicine.” Bucky knew that wouldn’t really resolve the situation if anything it’d make the tension between you two worse but he was willing and giddy to watch this escalate.

You stood there mulling his idea around in your head. What on earth could you do that would sufficiently and irrevocably embarrass Captain America? The man ran around in star-spangled leotard for years. What could possibly be more embarrassing than the less than flattering renditions of his uniform?

And then it hit you.

“Hey, Bucky?” You questioned with a saccharine voice most men should fear coming from a woman’s ire. Buck raised an eyebrow in question.

“You ever see the PSA’s Steve did?” Bucky’s eyes lit up with uncontained wonder.

 ~*~

 Steve sat in the group kitchen eating one of the many grilled chicken breasts and vegetable platters you had prepared for him to reheat later. Debriefing for the next mission was in a few hours and he hadn’t seen you or Bucky all day. You tended to stay to yourself in the mornings but Bucky would normally meet him in the gym after Steve’s morning run.

But last night you and Bucky had been up late together. In your room. With the door closed. Not that Steve walked by or anything. He definitely didn’t walk by 5 times within one hour. No, not him.

Steve couldn’t figure out which was worse, the fact you were in your room late with Buck or the fact you two spent most the night laughing endlessly. Honestly, Steve was more than hurt that he wasn’t invited to whatever fun-filled evening you two had. He knew you were upset with him but normally you’d go to the gym or run around the lake on the compound grounds and come back later. He would apologize, not sure what most the time but he knew he felt bad for hurting your feelings.

If he was honest, and Steve Rogers prided himself on his honesty, he did like watching your ass bounce when you walked away, upset or not.

As if his thoughts manifested the two of you, you both walked in whispering and giggling. 

“What are you two conspiring about?” Steve couldn’t help as one side of his lips lifted, he did enjoy seeing Bucky bonding with people and if it was with you even better. You were after all one of the sweetest people Steve knows.

You and Bucky stopped talking, looking at Steve in a way that made him squirm in his chair. Specifically, the disconcerting look Bucky directed at him.

“Steve, what would you say is the toughest enemy you ever faced?” Bucky’s question confused Steve more than he could say. What was he getting at? His tone sounded more rhetorical than inquisitive.

“Well Buck, I don’t know,” He answered. Bucky stroked his chin with his metal thumb and forefingers. 

“Oh, you wouldn’t say its tooth decay?” He grinned back at his dear friend since childhood enjoying the torture he was going to surely bring upon him.

Fear, unrelenting fear and embarrassment struck Steve to his core. Suddenly the two of you laughing so much made sense. His face paled and eyes narrowed in on you, but the innocent face you played so well failed to hide what he knew happened.

“Please. Buck. No,” Bucky’s grin turned maniacal at the soft blush now growing on Steve’s cheeks. “Oh, Steve yes!”

Before Bucky could start back up Steve went on the defense.

“I thought it would be helpful, remember the PSA’s in the theatres?” Desperation for his friend to understand and drop this clear in his voice.

“Yeah, they were stupid you bozo and so are these.” Bucky turned his gaze to you leaned against the kitchen island watching the exchange between the two of them. This was solid gold, and only going to get better if Bucky’s words of encouragement earlier held any truth.

“I really need something to give me an edge for today’s debriefing.” Bucky began again. Steve could feel his face turn red with every passing moment. His best friend was never going to drop this.

“I know just what you mean Buck.” You chimed in, Steve turned his head down. Did you two find them together? Did you know about them and show them to Bucky?

“Can you make me a hot lunch Steve?” Bucky faced his good ol’ pal once more, rubbing his stomach for emphasis.

“Yeah, a well-balanced diet keeps your body healthy.” You rested your chin in the palm of your hand, eyes bouncing between the two Super Soldiers. Steve raised his head back up, his blank face directed at Bucky.

“Tell us about the food pyramid so we can find that balance we need,” Bucky could feel his cheeks start to hurt. The tortured look on Steve’s face while small was enough for him to pick up on and it was everything Bucky needed.

“Bucky please,” Steve lamented but Bucky would have none of it.

“Isn’t this like that stupid Bonds selling they had you do back in the war?” Buck accused. 

“This was different, it was for the kids.” Bucky nodded his head, 

“Right, right the kids,” Bucky paused “Did you even read it before they started filming?”

If Steve’s face could get any redder it would have. “Listen I didn’t totally understand it, but I was assured it was for the kids.” Before Steve could suffer any more embarrassment he abandoned his meal and the kitchen.

“Also why was it called ‘Rappin with Cap?” Bucky called out to Steve’s retreating figure. “Missed opportunity for Rappin’ with Cappin’. Who do I talk to get that updated?” Steve threw his hands up in exasperation continuing his retreat.

“Buzz off jerk!” He hollered back at Bucky.

“What would the kids think, Steve?!” You and Bucky laughed, your sides ached double time from the work out they got last night from all the laughing then.

“Ah that was good, he was definitely embarrassed.” You smiled at Bucky wiping some tears in the corner of your eyes. “Thanks, Bucky.”

“Oh, we’re far from finished.” You blanched, you suddenly felt precarious about the continued punishment. You knew Steve needed to learn the lesson, Bucky had assured you it would work. But you were losing confidence in continued torture as Steve’s face of embarrassment resurfaced in your mind.

“How long were you going to carry this on?” You muttered chewing on your bottom lip.

“I don’t know probably until it stops being funny.” His side grin did nothing to ease your worry about how much Steve would suffer through this. 

“Which will be never.” Bucky chuckled going to the fridge for some lunch. “You want anything?”

 ~*~

 Bucky sat across from Steve eyeing him during the customary post-mission group meal. Wanda sat next to him while Nat and Clint posted up at the end of the table. Bruce and Tony at the other end discussing the level of science others could barely understand. 

You were finished loading up a plate of food about to find a spot on the large meeting table turned into the dining table when Bucky’s voice carried over loudly in the room.

“Ya know,” Bucky leaned back in his chair, the front legs lifting off the floor. “This mission went really well, we all followed the rules.”

Steve lifted an eyebrow at Bucky’s words trying to discern the trajectory of this out of character comment.

“Wouldn’t you say so, Steve?” Bucky looked at Steve biting the inside of his mouth to stop his smile. Steve jaw ticked, he understood now. Everyone at the table was looking between the two of them.

“Yeah Buck, the mission went well.” The blonde’s gritted out between clenched teeth.

“I mean the only way to be cool is to follow the rules. Right Cap?” Tony chortled at Bucky’s words quickly picking up on what was occurring. Of course Tony had seen the videos too.

“Steve, weren’t you a war criminal?” Bucky couldn’t hide his smile any longer, glancing at you then back to Steve causing the Blonde Soldier to look your way. You covered your smile with your free hand, holding your plate with the other.

“Bucky,” His tone anything but indulgent to Bucky’s antics.

“You must not be that cool, way to break ALL the rules, Cap.” Steve palmed his face with one hand and gave an exasperated breath.

You sat down next to Steve and began to eat just as Steve stood up. Taking his unfinished plate he began to leave the meeting room.

“Hey, punk!” Steve turned his head towards Bucky, everyone watching the exchange between the two Super Soldier brothers still.

“Since ya break so many rules,” Bucky paused “Know where I can get some illegal fireworks?”

“For fucks sake Bucky,” Steve walked out after that.

"Language!" Tony quipped, Steve’s shoulders sagged as he exited.

 ~*~

 Three weeks. It had been three weeks since you unknowingly unleashed Bucky hell on Steve.

Sure the two of them picked on each other and often lead to heated words but it would always dissipate with ease. This was a whole other level.

Maybe, if there hadn’t been SO MANY videos for Bucky to antagonize his best mate with it would have stopped by now. As it where Steve did more PSA’s than he remembered and every time Bucky had the chance, he brought them up. In subtle and not so subtle ways.

Steve’s face was either red with embarrassment or rage when Bucky was in the room. Most times he stomped out, others Bucky left laughing the whole way out of the room. 

You had been staying out of it, for the most part, being a bystander like the rest of the Avengers. Unlike the rest of the avengers though, you were always left with this rock in the pit of your stomach knowing you were solely responsible.

Entering the debrief room you noticed everyone was there assigned to the upcoming mission except your righteous leader, Steve.

“Anyone know where Steve is?” You voiced your concern, he was never late to debriefing in the entire time you’d been an Avenger. FRIDAY answered before anyone else in the room could address.

"I've been advised to inform you that Captain Rogers will not be attending any meetings that include Sergeant Barnes until he refrains from goading Captain.” As the AI spoke your eyes cut to Bucky with a pleading look.

This had to stop. 

Walking right out of the room you made a beeline for Steve’s office, the Winter Soldier hot on your trail. When Bucky’s hand made to open the door to Steve’s office you swatted at it glaring up at him as you knocked on the solid door. Bucky rolled his eyes at your etiquette.

“Come in,” Steve paused, “Unless it’s Bucky.” he continued. You stuck your tongue out at Bucky before entering the room and shutting it behind you and locking.

Steve looked up raising an eyebrow at the locking, his face a little flush at the potential implication.

“Bucky,” You explained and he nodded face sullen.

“I wanted to apologize Steve.” You started and he raised his hand up to stop you but you ignored him.

“Had I known how far and long Bucky would take this I would have shown him maybe only one or two videos.” Steve frowned. “Definitely not all of them.”

“Well thank you for that apology,” His deadpan delivery less than stellar for the rock still sitting in your stomach. He stood up and reached past you to unlock the door. You couldn’t help but breathe in his cologne and the smell that was uniquely him.

With Bucky and Steve avoiding each other leading to Steve avoiding you, you had almost forgotten how wonderful he smelt. You also had not been on the receiving end of his embarrassing lack of tact with the subsequent avoidance but you had forgotten that too at the moment.

“I really am sorry,” You muttered out, Steve stalled opening the door at the remorse in your voice.  He said your name with a sigh, his breath fanning against your face your body hair breaths away, his hand lingering on the door handle. The warmth of his body could be felt even through your clothing.

This sensation was a reminder of all the times you two would spar, trying hard to ignore how well he felt against you, instead of focusing on winning a match against the perfect soldier. You had to ignore it, after all, he was your Captain, and you were just you.

“I know you are, but you did it none the less.” The finality in his words made it clear your apology was not accepted and you really couldn’t blame him with how far Bucky had taken this.

Finally opening the door Steve’s eyes narrowed in what could only be described as a death glare to the chaotic soldier behind you. 

“Bucky,” you turned around as Steve addressed him as you made your way out of the room.

“Steve,” Bucky mimicked the serious tone Steve gave, only his face held that Cheshire cat smile unlike Steve’s.

Before either of them could startup you attempted to mediate. “Come on Soldiers, we’ve got a debriefing to attend.” Grabbing Bucky by his metal arm you tugged him along, fearing rejection from Steve if you attempted the same.

~*~

 Bucky had been away on a mission with Natasha for the past month and Steve had enjoyed the much-needed reprieve from his friend’s torture. He was hoping the passing of time would wear off the novelty of teasing. Steve ever the optimist. 

Bucky was catching up with you in the hall after finishing his debriefing jokingly scolding you for not carrying on his torture.

“Come on, he’s almost learned his lesson.” Bucky elbowed your arm smirking at you.

“I don’t think this is a lesson by fire situation anymore. Maybe it never was going to work leaving you to deal out the punishment.” You folded your arms over your chest settling your narrowed eyes on the brown-haired chaotic neutral incarnate.

“It’s all in good fun,” Bucky justified, knowing full well he was pushing his luck with Steve. He was sick of Steve’s silence regarding his feelings for you and if he could punish him for the mounting sexual tension he had to suffer between the two of you then he’d deal it out on the regular.

Steve caught the sight of the two of you and couldn’t help the small smile that pulled at his lips when you flagged him over.

“Hey Steve,” you greeted his dopey smile contagious. Steve nodded his head towards you before looking at his friend.

“How was it, Buck?” He inquired and Bucky rolled his eyes.

“Come on man you can read it in the reports you make me fill out,” Steve returned the eye roll.

“Are you joining Bucky and me for movie night?” You inquired with hope towards Steve, wanting to prevent any escalation between the two as well. Maybe a peaceful movie night would help the damage you did with those videos.

Steve scratched the back of his head starting to stumble on his words. Bucky couldn’t stop himself, well he’s sure he could but why would he when his friend was starting to make a fool of himself.

“Do you feel an itch, Steve?” Steve’s hand froze at Bucky’s words. His face falling at this line of conversation. Couldn’t he just leave well enough alone?

“I hate you so much Buck,” Bucky’s Cheshire cat smile returned with a vengeance, your brows rising in confusion. What was? No Bucky wasn’t doing it again?!

“You could have lice,” Bucky’s tone a face concern. 

“Bucky stop,” Steve’s tone dangerously calm.

“Stand up and be a hero Steve.” Before Bucky could start his signature peals of laughter at his friend’s embarrassment, he blew up.

“That’s enough!” Steve’s face turning red. This was the limit, apparently. He pointed at Bucky then swung the accusatory finger towards you, “I don’t know what I did to deserve the two of you ganging up on me like this.” 

“Com’on Steve this isn’t on her,” Bucky interjected, wanted to take the heat off you. His plan wasn’t going to work if Steve lumped you in with his anger. “I was gonna find those videos eventually,” Bucky went to your defense but it was unnecessary as the dope had hit a nerve.

“You don’t know what you did to deserve this?!” Steve was incredulous. How could he be so daft to his actions?!

“You say the dumbest things to me.” Your hands gestured around wildly “And in front of me about me at the worst times!” You took a step towards Steve whose fire was being dampened by your growing temper. “Embarrassing the crap out of me in front of staff or even the team!”

You nearly blew a gasket at how bewildered Steve appeared. “I didn’t know I did that.” 

“Of course you didn’t,” His eyes narrowed at your growing condescension. “Because you don’t pay attention to how your words affect others!” 

Bucky watched the two of you with what was at first amusement but rapidly turning to worry when Steve squared his shoulders. You both had tempers known to be nuclear when opposing.

“Don’t pay attention?!” Steve threw his hands up in the air, the loud clap sound of them falling to his sides at his words make you flinch. “All I do is give you my undivided attention.” His gaze levels on you, both of you oblivious to your audience.

“For years.” Steve’s voice strained, trying to express what he longed to say without actually having to put himself out there.

“Wait, what?” You shook your head now you the one befuddled between the two of you, his words washing away your indignation. 

“Where has that gotten me huh?” Your confusion only fueled Steve. Of course, you don’t understand what he was trying to say. Steve was pas the point of reasoning now.

“My best friend seeing some of the most ridiculous things I did freshly out of the ice,” his eyes darting between the two of you, “And you two exploiting it!” Taking a deep breath closing his eyes Steve tried to calm the storm inside him.

You took a step away clutching your chest at the venom he spewed. How fast a playful way to take self-righteous Steve Rogers down a few pegs put you on the top of his shit list.

“Steve-” You started only to stop and try again. “I-” Steve’s eyes snapped open narrowing on you fumbling your words, hands wringing in front of you.

“JUST STOP!” You let out a soft yelp at the volume his voice hit. “You’ve done enough don’t you think?!” 

You wanted to defend yourself but thought better of it. Nodding your head you walked off with short paced steps to escape.

Steve watched your retreating figure, face softening with each step you took. He went to follow you but stopped himself. He had made enough of a mess. Looking at Bucky he groaned at the disappointment written all over his face.

Without another word, he left Bucky alone in the hall seeking solace from his embarrassing temper tantrum.

 ~*~

 Bucky entered Steve’s office without knocking, he assumed if Steve truly didn’t want to be bothered he could have easily locked the door or had FRIDAY bar anyone from entering.

Steve sat with his head in his hands, taking in deep breaths trying to find some kind of solution to the problem that ever was you.

“So you acted like an idiot because you don’t know how to talk to women?” Steve looked up at Bucky’s words and held back the desire to flip his desk right at him. Bucky had turned the chair across from his desk around and was straddling it facing him. Arms crossed over the top of the backing. Just like he did in those stupid videos. Videos you had watched countless times by now.

“Buck,” Steve’s strained voice conveying enough to Bucky but not enough to get him to sit properly in the chair. “Please leave it alone.”

“Listen, man, I’m serious. You suck at women.”

“Gee, thanks, bud.” Steve looked down at his desk in defeat.

“You’re welcome.” Bucky knocked on the table. “Now what are you going to do to fix this?” Steve scoffed raising his head up to face his longest friend.

“Why do I have to fix it?”

“Because you yelled at her,” his words full of disbelief, Bucky was almost in awe at Steve’s inability to at least learn a few things about women without him around to get him a pity date.

“If she hadn’t-” Bucky raised a hand to get Steve to stop before he even started.

“Lemme’ stop you right there punk,” Steve’s deadpan stare did nothing to stop him. “You and I both know this is way beyond me picking on you about some PSA’s.” 

“I think its got a lot-”

“Just because you’re all buff doesn’t mean I won’t kick your ass if you don’t shut up,” Bucky flexed his metal arm, the whirling of metal cogs warming up filled the office, clearly, he was intending to make good on his threat.

“Fine,” Steve was done fighting for the day. “What’s this about then?” His arm gesturing across his desk for Bucky to continue sans interruption.

“You love her,” Buck was impressed at how quick Steve’s face reddened.

“You hate that she’s been spending all this time with me,” Steve went to argue before he could get a word in Bucky raised an eyebrow rolling his left shoulder back.

“My silence doesn’t mean agreement.” Steve just didn’t want his office wrecked or the rant Tony would give him for the cost of repairs. 

Bucky huffed rolling his eyes, “Man, what does she even see in you?”

“What?”

“Come on, you two can’t be this oblivious?” Buck leaned forward pushing until the chair only had two legs on the ground and he was leaning over Steve’s desk keeping eye contact.

“You two are hopelessly into each other,” Steve sat up straight shaking his head in disbelief. “It’s sickening really,” Bucky leaned back the chair slamming back to the ground and groaning at the abuse. 

“How can you tell, are you sure she likes me?” Steve’s words jumbled in his mouth

“Don’t do that thing, bozo,” Bucky crossed his arms in front of his chest “Where you act all ‘oh she likes me’” He pulled his metal hand out and pointed at Steve, “Just go get her.” 

Steve stood up with gust and left his office with the same level of energy.

Bucky stuck his head out the office door threshold.

“Don’t skim on the human reproduction lessons!” Steve chose to ignore his friend’s taunt, determination written on his face. He’d spent plenty of time thinking and talking about all of this. It was time for action.

[dahmerthepeoplenomer]

Hey how goes it! This is a ‘Death Becomes Her’ oneshot for Ernest Menville. I was happy to get this character suggestion because I love this movie. Bruce Willis😍👌🏼! So this takes place after he tries to regain his sanity and leaves Helen and Madeline behind. Hope you like it. Enjoy! NSFW!

Forget and Remember

“Ern.” I say softly and rub the man’s arm.

“Ernest.”

Nothing.

“Ernest!” His eyebrows start to furrow in...distress?

“ERNEST!” I shout just loud enough to get through to his sleeping state. He instantly springs up, glasses crooked and hair a mess.

“Huh?” He looks at me with wide yet tired eyes before adjusting his glasses.

“Everything okay?” He doesn’t usually fall asleep in his office unless he’s highly stressed about something or is in a restless mindset. He looks around before stretching his arms above his head. He cocks his head to the side and instantly grabs his neck. A low groan of pain escapes his lips.

“Mm, what time is it?” He adjusts his cardigan before standing up.

“Quarter past 10. I was gonna let you sleep for a bit longer but I figured I’d come check on you. You don’t normally sleep this late. Are you feeling alright?” I move my hands up to feel his face. His arms encircle my waist.

“Yeah I’m okay. I’m glad you woke me up when you did. I was having a ridiculous dream about them again. They were chasing me and threatening to hurt me if I didn’t stay and take care of them. Good God, can the memories of those two just go away? It’s farcical at this point!” He rests he chin on top of my head in defeat.

I wrap my arms around him and gently stroke his back. If there was a way to wipe his brain clean of the names Helen Sharp and Madeline Ashton then I would. Post traumatic stress comes in all different shapes and forms I’ve come to find.

“I know it’s hard to deal with the past stress they’ve caused. If I could fix it or take it away then I would.” I say in an attempt to ease his tension.

He just continues to rest against me - his thumbs making little circles against hips. After a moment of silence, he breaths in deep and releases a relaxed sigh.

“Doesn’t help to dwell on the matter when I have you to focus my attention on now.” He mutters above my head.

I pull back to smile at him before saying, “Come on, let’s get you some breakfast.” I lean up to peck his cheek and he follows me out to the kitchen.

~~~~

Ernest was broken in every sense of the word. He was only a shell of man when I first met him. I remember the day we met very clearly. I was on kind of a soul-searching trip of my own when I noticed him. Ern was seated by the elegant fireplace in the winter lodge we were both staying in. He wore a casual dress coat with slacks and a trapper hat - the flaps were pinned up exposing his ears. The chair he sat in was partially turned toward the window. He wasn’t focused on anything in particular as he stared out at the falling snow. I do, however, recall the forlorn expression in his eyes. That’s what drew me to him.

I had just finished unpacking my duffel bag in my room before coming to relax in the the upper lobby with my book. The whole resort was beautiful - tall cathedral ceilings with skylight windows. There were mahogany wood pillars with stone wall detailing, giving it that true rustic cabin feel.

I made my way over toward the rocking chairs by one of the fireplaces and took a seat. Pulling my knees to my chest, I gazed around the large room. There weren’t many people. Just the lady at the front desk speaking with a young couple, an older gentleman with his dog, and...him. When my eyes spotted him, like I said, I was instantly drawn in. He looked a little lost inside himself. I turned my head in an attempt to refocus but found myself looking back to him. It was like a gravitational pull. I started to wonder if everything was okay.

After a sigh and shake of my head, I began on the first page of my book. Anyone who knows me can tell you that whenever I start a book, I get lost. Try to ask me a question and you’ll most likely receive a low ‘mm’ or small noise of acknowledgement even though I have no idea what was said.

I continue reading, occasionally glancing at the man no more than fifty feet from me. Time starts to pass - hours possibly. The suns sinks lower. People are coming and going. But he’s still there - unmoved and unfazed by his surroundings. I peek over my book to steal a look only to notice his eyes are already on me. They quickly flick back towards the window. After a moment, he looks back to me, making eye contact. I lower the pages in my hand to deliver a small smile. Unexpectedly, he matches my expression only to look back outside. I pull my lips in and continue my story.

The sun is now completely set. I’ve always had a love-hate relationship with daylight savings time. I like that it gets dark because it gives me an excuse to wear pajamas and cuddle up in bed early but sometimes I like to have just a little more daylight to go out and do things.

About halfway into the novel, I decide to mark my place and close it up. I stretch my arms up and yawn. He’s looking again. I raise my eyebrows and make a face that says ‘hiii what do you want’ but in a playful manner. He smirks and again returns his gaze towards that damn window. I smile at him and wait to see what he’ll do next. ‘What an intriguing person,’ I think to myself. In an instant he whips his head my way, squinting his eyes to feign suspicion before slowly turning away. I then let out a giggle. ‘Looks like im going over there.’

I start over towards him. He starts to look a little nervous as he adjusts himself in his seat. “Well, if you’re gonna flirt with me then you might as well introduce yourself.” I joke, earning a slightly timid smile from him.

He clears his throat and says, “E-Ernest. My name’s Ernest.”

“Nice to meet you, Ernest. I’m (y/n).”

A moment of silence goes by before he stutters out, “Oh, uhm, why don’t sit down?” His hand gestures to the chair in front of him.

I sit down cross-legged and look to him. “What brings you here, Ernest? Hidden snowboarding talent?”

“Yeah sure, me?” He laughs. “No, It’s the serenity and scenery for me. What about you? Extreme skier?”

“Absolutely not. Same reasons as you actually.” I smile at him.

“Absolutely not? What about ice skating? That’s not too terribly hard.”

“I’d fall on my face or crack my head on the ice,” I purse my lips and add, “but i don’t fail at anything so I’d fall in style.”

He chuckles saying, “It’s not that difficult, but I don’t doubt that. You appear to be a very smooth person.”

“Smooth? This dork? Nu-uh, nope!”

“Ah come on, don’t be so hard on yourself.”

“You’ll believe it when you see it.” I say, rolling my eyes.

“Well you’ll just have to prove it to me sometime.” He laughs gently.

“Ernest! Are you asking me on a date? Calm down we only just started talking and now you’re making plans!” I fake a look of disgust before smiling.

“I..hah..uhm - well I..you are very beautiful.” He stumbles over his words and quickly looks away, taking off his hat. His fingers fiddle with fur on the inside.

I smile at him and give him a thank you.

“You’re welcome.” He’s looks down bashfully.

What a sweet, kind soul. He’s been hurt in the past, that much is evident. I watch the way his hand reaches up to stroke his face. His green eyes flicker around the room and land on me a couple times. With pursed lips, he lets out a soft sigh. “Sorry, I-I’m not really that exciting. I understand if you want to go back to your room or if you’d rather ME leave then I..”

“What? No! I want you stay. Of course I can’t stop you if you want to leave but I’d rather you stay.” I give him a reassuring smile. He doesn’t say anything but stares at me as if searching for any indication of dishonesty.

“Alright?”

“Okay.” I finally get a smile back.

We continue our small talk for a little while longer before I suggest getting a drink. He agrees and we head down to the bar room. This room is just as beautiful as the rest. We sit the farthest away from the other people in here. The live piano player strings out a beautiful melody.

A few beers and a couple of old-fashioneds later, he’s telling me stories of his life - his body becoming more animated as the alcohol sets in. I find myself thoroughly enjoying his company. We discuss topics ranging from music tastes to embarrassing childhood memories. I wasn’t expecting him to say that he’s a doctor.

“No way, a doctor in what?” I ask curiously.

“Well I was a surgeon early on. I then ‘downgraded’ by transferring over to mortuary practices. Not exactly the best conversation piece.” He laughs through his nose.

“No that’s really fascinating! Better than anything I’ve ever done. I never really had a ‘calling’ as one would say.”

“Yeah well I wouldn’t say doing these jobs were my calling per se but they pay the bills. Hence me being here, trying to find some sort of inner peace.” He says.

“I understand that completely. Same goes with me. So should I now refer to you as Dr. Ernest?”

He raises his eyebrows and tilts his head trying to look as pretentious as possible. “That’s Dr. MENVILLE, Ms. (y/n).” I snort a laugh at him.

“Well excuse me. That’s Ms. (Y/L/N) to you, Dr. Menville.” He laughs as well.

As another drink gets placed in front of me, Ernest walks his fingers towards the glass. He lightly pulls it his way. I flick his hand, shooing him away. That doesn’t stop him. Continuing his ministrations, I grab his hand and hold it down onto the bar as I down my drink. After I place my glass down, I realize my hand is still over his. He looks at them and flips them over, running the tips of his fingers along my palm. I eye his hand and then start a trail to his face. He’s already looking at me. My gaze floats up and down from his green orbs to his lips.

Not sure how or when, but we found ourselves crashing into one another in an attempt to walk down the hallway to his room. His fingers fumbled with the key to open the door. Once inside, I wasn’t expecting what he did, or rather said, next.

“(Y/n), may I kiss you?”

I wanted nothing more than to say ‘aww’ and hug him but desire was too heavy to ignore. I grinned instead and pulled him down to me, lips crashing together. This seemed to be enough encouragement for him seeing that I was pinned to the wall - hands running up and down my body. His mouth exploring quickly from my lips to my jaw and neck. I moan out, fingers delving into his hair.

Ernest picks me up, allowing me to wrap my legs around his waist. He places me down onto the bed and I can feel how aroused he is through the fabric of his pants. Our mouths connect once again as our tongues begin an endless dance.

“Are you sure about this? Absolutely certain?” He mumbles against my mouth. “I mean, if you’re not comfortable then I understand.”

“Yes, I’m positive. I trust you.”

He nods in return.

We shed our tops and as he starts to unbutton his pants, he stops dead in his tracks. “Shit.” He mutters. “I..uhm, don’t have any..uh..”

“It’s okay, I’m covered.” I groan out.

With that Ernest discards the rest of his clothes allowing me to see him fully. He’s not the biggest but he’s perfect for me and utterly handsome. He then pulls my jeans all the way off. I’m already wet and ready for him. His gaze doesn’t linger on me too long but the look of hunger and lust on his face doesn’t go unnoticed. His double take almost made me giggle. He pushes me up towards the top of the bed and climbs onto me. His hand guides his member into me softly and we moan out in unison. I yank his head down, our mouths connecting. God, does he feel good. It’s like his body was made for mine. We just fit together.

As his pace becomes sloppy I know that he’s close, as am I. My climax comes first as I yell his name and cling to him. He’s not far behind, following me into waves of pleasure.

After collapsing beside me, I cuddle up next to him. His arms hold me as if i might disappear. After a minute or two my breathing returns to normal.

“Ernest?” I question.

“Yes?”

“What just happened?”

“Well I just had sex with a beautiful lady who I already enjoy having in my arms. I can’t say the same for you, but I hope it was at least half decent.” I can hear the smile in his voice.

“Oh it was a little more than half decent, Dr. Menville. You know you’re stuck with me now, right?”

He wholeheartedly chuckles before saying, “I wouldn’t mind that, not one bit. But, of course, that means you’d be stuck with me.”

I push myself up to look at him. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.” I state. He shrugs, giving me that same self-deprecating look from earlier. I kiss the look away and pull back to see a genuine smile plastered on his face.

I’m not sure if it’s the alcohol or if I’m already intoxicated by this man but I feel so content laying here with him...on him. I listen to the steady rhythm of his heart beat as it lulls me to a deep, tranquilizing sleep.

~~~~

I watch Ernest spread some grape jelly on his bagel and take a bite. His eyes scan over the Sunday paper as he enjoys his meal. I sit down across from him and lean onto one of my arms.

“Ern, do you remember the day we met?” I ask.

“How could I forget? I remember how much I drank to calm my nerves after we went to the bar.” His chest rumbles with a chuckle as he folds the paper in his hand in half. I smile sweetly at him.

“I remember everything about that day. That was probably the lowest point in my life. But when you sat down across from me, I could only stare at you in awe. I didn’t want to seem like a creep so every time you looked up, I would look away. You looked so beautiful....then of course you caught me gawking at you like a moron so I had to make a joke of the situation.”

“You had to throw in your Ernest charm.” I wink and smirk.

“Yeah well I’m glad I did now but in the moment all I could think was ‘shit shit shit shit she’s coming over here’. I could’ve been sick, that’s how nervous I was.” He laughs.

“I know, I could tell.” I giggle. “It was adorable though. I quite literally almost said ‘awe’ when you asked to kiss me in your room.”

“Well, I didn’t want you to change your mind once you realized it was possibly just the alcohol making you feel the way you did so I was cautious.” He shrugs. “That was a beautiful night nonetheless.”

“It very much was. I was thinking we should plan a trip up there again. Weekend getaway or something, it’d be nice.”

“Yeah, let’s go. We never did get to go ice skating - too busy with more...important matters.” He smirks and turns back to his paper.