#universe please please don’t make my lab any harder than I can handle

[glassballdinosaurs]

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

[starbuckie]

𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠

pairing(s): college!peter parker x reader, dark!steve rogers x reader, dark!sam wilson x reader, dark!bucky barnes x reader

words: 8.1k words

warnings: DARK!FIC, SMUT 18+ (unprotected sex, foursome turned fivesome, gangbang, non-con/dub-con, daddy kink, oral M and F-receiving, spit kink, degredation kink, praise kink, creampie), age-gap (reader is in her early 20s), cheating, angst, there’s like zero fluff

summary: peter should’ve made it back to the tower for date night on time, or maybe just before he found his girlfriend being fucked by three other superheroes.

a/n: eee my first dark fic! im so so happy with the way this turned out, and even though it was a pain in my ass for nearly three months, im so hapy to share it with y’all. this idea was brought up by an anon from @mypoisonedvine’s saturday sleepover a few months back, but i switched up tony and sam bc i didn’t like the tony and peter stuff. hopefully my smut has improved from the first time i wrote it in january, and just a reminder that in no way, shape, or form do i condone rape of any kind. there’s a large difference from the page and the real world. i try to put all tw’s in the tags and warnings, but if there was something i missed please tell me. thank you to my lovely bestie @mermaidxatxheart for beta-reading(i have no fucking clue what i’d do without your help). feel free to leave a comment or two and reblog, but don’t repost anywhere or i will hunt down your ass. thank you again and please please enjoy <3

main masterlist || mcu masterlist || sebastian stan characters masterlist

Bucky wasn’t planning to fuck Y/N as soon as he saw her.

It started with a faint mention, something Tony had thrown around along the lines of, “Parker’s bringing his girl down here tomorrow, don’t be an asshole”. He didn’t give a damn what Tony said or how he acted around Peter’s girl. Years of being thrown between gruesome mind-wiping and being half-dead, asleep in a freezer would do that to a man.

So the next day when Peter brought his girlfriend in, he was scratching his ass like a fucking ape and downing a beer with a messy bun at the nape of his neck, until he actually saw her. Neat hair, even neater laces with a sweet smile but a body that could kill. Didn’t matter that she was bundled under Parker’s hoodie and a pair of jeans- he could always admire a pretty dame, but Bucky could see that she was beyond that. It was as if God had intentionally made the one being, the one ethereal creature beautiful and angelic enough to be a sin away from him, so that he couldn’t touch her. Because she was young, and in her twenties, and that shouldn’t have even been the first two things that popped up in his mind because she was also Peter’s girlfriend.

But then she had the audacity to stick her hand out, a shy grin and twinkle in her eyes as she gave her name. It sounded so pretty rolling off of her tongue, and he wondered what it would sound like while he groaned it into her cunt.

Y/N. 

So, yeah, maybe Bucky wasn’t planning to fuck her as soon as he met her, but it was pretty damn close after.

-

Steve Rogers was one of very few men who said they had the pleasure of banging nearly every woman on the north side of Manhattan. Bucky indulged in the fact that the man who had once been too shy to do so much as meet a gal’s gaze was now “a dollar whore”, but he was more than happy to keep that title if it meant he could continue to get off in the nearest woman’s mouth everyday. 

Every time he walked down the streets of New York with just a simple ball cap and jeans, he could feel stares on his back from what seemed like miles away, girls on every street corner just waiting for him to take her into the nearest public bathroom and fuck them dirty. CEOs, baristas, girls fresh out of getting master’s degrees with stars in their eyes and big dreams, until he shattered them by making them gag on his cock and scream his name into bedsheets. Or tile floors. He didn’t care as long as they were screaming. The girls of this century were just too delectable to turn down. He didn’t discriminate. His dick had been in women of every height, stature, hair color, and he had quite the variety throwing themselves at him as well.

And then Tony ruined it all and sat him down with a simple explanation that the image of Captain America was being tainted with disturbing stories of girls being fucked in the ass and thrown on their knees in dirty bathroom stalls. The blond was beyond pissed when the billionaire told him to stop dicking around, but he couldn’t do anything else if he wanted to keep his title and job. In a new century, even if he’d had a few years to adjust, he was still absolutely oblivious when it came to anything outside of aliens and sex. There was nothing left for him outside of being an Avenger, so reluctantly he agreed to keep his number of conquests to a minimum, and most definitely inside of the tower rather than out on the street.

However, inside of the tower seemed to be no problem at all when Peter brought his girlfriend over, all smiles and straight A’s, and that’s when Steve realized that he’d yet to fuck a bright, little college student. He could see himself stripping her from the innocence in her eyes, loosening up her pussy with his thick cock against the wall in his room.

Surely Tony couldn’t reprimand him for spending a little time trying to bond with Peter’s new girl, right?

-

Sam Wilson was a simple man. He had a job, a well-paid one at that, somewhere to live, a girlfriend, or a woman to keep him company, that’s for sure- but for once in his life he was seeking out something other than missions, something that would keep him busy when he was feeling bored, something like-

Pleasure, and he knew that he’d finally found what he was looking for the moment Peter brought his girlfriend through the elevator doors on the fifty-sixth level of the Avengers tower. She’d shaken his hand so daintily and spoke so politely that if he were to see her without any backstory, he’d think she was another innocent, dim-witted college student, breaking her bank account every Saturday morning and naively believing that her relationship would last longer than a few months. But by the things Parker had told him, she was much more than that.

Was it shitty of Peter to tell his teammates, the people he worked with, how Y/N was in bed? By the majority’s vote, probably, and by Sam’s strict conduct of his own morals, definitely, but when Peter’s girl looked like that and he was so incredibly bored with his routine? 

Well, fuck, Sam had never been happier that the Spider-kid had told everyone how his girl gave head.

Peter brought his girlfriend in daily after that, and every one of her visits, she grew less shy and more friendly, and the Falcon saw each of his friends gape at her growing comfortability with a wolfish demeanor. It started with the water incident with Steve in the kitchen, where he so clearly spilled water on her already thin, white camisole with intention. Sam couldn’t say he was upset though, after all Steve had offered him and the rest of the Avengers quite a show when he tried to clean up her shirt, taking his sweet, sweet time to fondle her tits as subtly as he could, his eyes staring at her pebbled nipples poking through the material. He could see Bucky hiding his boner under his cereal bowl on the couch that day. 

Then of course, he’d been no better than America’s sweetheart himself when he greeted Y/N with a hug that in hindsight, was a little too enthusiastic. His large hands squeezed into the pockets of her back pocket, and if the college student found anything weird with it, she didn’t say so, but Sam graciously palmed the round globes of her ass in his hands, feeling the muscle clench under his fingers. Oh, how he’d never hugged someone that tight ever before in his life. Maybe he would’ve gotten a bit further than squeezing her ass had it not been for his own girlfriend standing behind him, ready to introduce herself to Y/N.

Bucky, well, Sam could admit that Bucky had the most guts out of all of them. Though the super-soldier was normally well-reserved and polite, the dark glint in his eyes the day he met Y/N let him in on the secret that he had a much dirtier mind than most thought. It had been movie night that time, and he barely even tried to cover up how much he wanted the girl, his hands resting all over her as they watched Inception. Hardly a movie to get so riled up over, yet Bucky’s hand still inched its way up her thigh, his rough fingers gently carressing the flesh until they started to lightly trace the apex of her thighs. 

If she noticed anything then, she didn’t comment on it, doe-like eyes just marvelling at the screen in great intrigue. It was only when Peter’s arms wrapped around her a bit tighter did she scooch away from Bucky’s touch, with a small apology and shy grin. 

That only made his dick harder.

On the other side of Bucky, his super-soldier counterpart tapped his knee gently, forcing their blue eyes to meet each other. No words had to be said between the two, three men when they looked over to Sam, because they all recognized that look they saw in each other's eyes; predatory, dark, nearly voracious in the way they all wanted to be balls deep inside of Y/N.

And they would get there. No matter how long it took, they knew that the ultimate prize of tearing their prey apart would be more than worth the wait.

-

“Hey, babe, I’m gonna be a little late. Ned and I got stuck back in the lab, so we’re gonna need to stay until eight or nine. Can you make it to the tower by yourself alright?”

Peter’s concerned voice made Y/N smile gently as she trudged along the rainy streets of New York. He always loved to worry about her, especially when it was dark and gloomy out, but she could handle herself pretty okay. By pretty okay, of course meant she could kick ass like no other twenty-something year-old, but she wasn’t one to brag. Y/N readjusted the Kate Spade purse on her shoulder with her right hand, attempting to keep her umbrella over her head with the other. “I’ll be fine, Pete, just go finish up and get back to me. I’m gonna be waiting in your room at the tower before you go off on that mission this weekend.”

A small sigh came through the speaker, “Okay, I’ll try to get back to you soon. I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too, Pete.” 

“Oh,” she could hear the shy but no less mischievous smile that was taking over his face, “I left you a little present on the bed, make sure you open it before I get back.”

Y/N’s face heated at the implication. “Peter Parker, you dirty little-” He ended the call with a laugh, and she huffed out a small chuckle at his childish antics.

The walk to the Avengers tower would have been nice, had it not been for the downfall of rain, making everything mushy, socks being absolutely soaked through her sneakers by the time she arrived. The receptionist at the front desk, Jenny, if Y/N remembered correctly, stared at her a little oddly, probably not expecting to see the young college girl in such a state of disorder, but it didn’t affect her at all. She confidently strutted up to the elevator, pressing in the floor number where all the rooms were located. Y/N scrolled through her Twitter feed on her phone while classic rock blared through the elevator with the constant shuffling of people moving in and out. Seven minutes and thirty-two seconds later she was sprinting down the halls with soggy shoes and damp hair, her cold body screaming for warmth.

Peter’s room was the farthest down the hall, and the room was fairly empty. He rarely stayed at his room in the tower, preferring to stay with his Aunt May or keep Y/N company in Brooklyn. When she entered the room, she saw a plain white shirt and a pair of socks strewn upon the carpeted floor, but what really caught her eye was the red box wrapped in a pink bow on the bed. Deciding it would add more suspense if she opened it later, she quickly hopped in the shower, letting the hot water warm her freezing, rigid muscles under the spray. 

Peter didn’t have all the products she’d usually use before she knew they were going to have sex, so she had to make do with the half-used bar of Irish Spring and his small travel-sized bottles of shampoo and conditioner, promising the fresh, breezy smell of citrus and mint. It was a quick process; two squeezes of shampoo, shaving with the green soap as best as she could without cutting herself, one squeeze of conditioner. A fuzzy towel sat waiting for Y/N on the rack, with the Spiderman symbol as a prank gift from her to her lovely boyfriend, and without a second to let the heat leave her damp skin, she wrapped herself in it, quickly hopping out to the bedroom again.

The lingerie she set out on the bed was a deep set burgundy color, with lace decorating the delicate corset and the trim of the satin panties. The packaging really did not do it justice. Y/N grinned at the new set, one that she knew would happily be torn from her body later. A shiver ran through her as she let the cold air fall over her skin, carefully slipping the lingerie on. It was a damn shame, really; the set was quite nice, and she reminded herself to buy more of the nicely suiting color for their nights together. 

Click.

Y/N’s heart thumped with anticipation as she heard the door open and she took a quick moment to ready herself. Hair in perfect style, legs stretched along the length of the bed to make herself look as seductive as possible, a small smirk thrown on her pouty lips.

But in the darkened room, it wasn’t Peter’s shadow that appeared. Three men, three tall, bulkier men’s shadows appeared at the foot of the bed, and horror washed over her as she realized who they were. “Goddamn, dolly, I’ve imagined what you would’ve looked like under those sweaters, but this is much sweeter than I expected.”

The sinister face of Bucky Barnes came into her view, just a sliver of moonlight lighting up his pale skin. His eyes raked over Y/N’s uncovered skin, and goosebumps appeared as she tried to cover herself up under his predatory gaze.

“W-what are you doing here?” She whispered worriedly. Sam and Steve flanked the bed on either side of her, plastered sickly sweet smiles on their faces, providing her with a false sense of security that made her heart scream in fear. Though she wasn't making any noise, her lungs felt like they were going to give out, her throat closing up like an allergic reaction. 

Her head whipped every which way in robotic movement, her brain seeming to fail her as she scanned the room for an exit. Several moments of shortened breaths, cold air chilling her body, before she came out of her freezing shock to realization.

“Why are you here? Please, get out, just g-get out!”

A calloused hand pushed away Y/N’s left arm that covered her tits, and Steve groaned at the sight of her pebbled nipples. “God, baby, they’re as pretty as I thought they’d be. Been trying to feel them up all week, but you knew that, didn’t you?”

Saturday the week before at lunch when he’d spilled water over chest and tried to clean her up. Sam’s friendly hug that became a bit less friendly when his hands slipped into the back pockets of her jeans. The movie night on Monday when Bucky’s hand caressed her thigh a little too close to her core. All of their touches began to make more sense, and her eyes filled with tears at the realization. 

“Please,” she begged, tears blocking her vision, “I promise I won’t tell anyone, not even Pete, but please just go.”

“You just don’t get it, do you?” Steve asked. He grasped her chin roughly, his face close enough to hers so that she could feel his fiery breath on her lips. “We’re not leaving, sweetheart. You’re gonna let all three of us play with your pretty little body, and you’re gonna make the prettiest sounds for us, alright?”

Y/N shook her head violently, too afraid to make noise, but also bold enough to make one last attempt at freedom. The hand that held her chin quickly moved to slap her cheek, and she hated the way the sting made heat stir in her lower belly. She tried to shy away from their touch again, but Bucky’s face simply held the same smirk as he trailed his vibranium fingers up and down her leg. 

“Oh, come on, Y/N, don’t act all shy now. Peter has been telling us how good you’ve been to him and don’t think he hasn’t told us about your little childhood crush on little ol’ me. Been wanting to fuck you ever since.” Bucky’s hand quickly left her body, instead moving to palm over the bulge in his pants. “Fuck, sweetheart, got me real hard just thinking ‘bout your pussy swallowing my cock. Bet you’re gonna be a sweet, obedient girl for me, right?”

Fire started to course through Y/N’s veins, and with all the power she tried to dampen it down with, it seemed to push through her body that much more dangerously. She despised the fact that she could feel herself growing wet for the three older men, but God, she had never felt the need to be filled up as badly as she did in that moment.

“You’re a bit of a slut, don’t you think?” Sam mocked. He kneeled on her right, his eyes fixated on her panty-clad pussy, a wet patch already forming on the soft satin. It really didn’t help that three of her teen celebrity crushes were eyeing her nearly naked body like a piece of meat. “I mean, look at you, already growing wet and needy for three cocks. Is that what you want, honey? Parker not treating you good enough?”

She hesitated. Goosebumps rose across her skin at the sinister tone of his voice, like he already knew it was true. And it was true and she hated that Sam was right, but as amazing as Peter was a boyfriend, it was clear from the vibrator hiding in his apartment’s bathroom that he was not amazing in the sheets. Every time, she held hope that it would be better, that she would finally get to stop faking an orgasm before he rolled out of the bed with a filled up condom, but she knew deep down inside of her that it wasn’t happening anytime soon. Y/N forced herself to nod weakly at Sam’s questions, and Bucky chuckled. “Oh, you poor dolly, we’re gonna have so much fun with you. Treat you better than that little boy ever could.”

All it took was a whimper, a nearly audible, deadly silent whimper that managed to squeak its way past Y/N’s throat, and the three men took it as permission to ravage her body however they pleased.

Steve made quick work of his pants as Sam lifted her chin to kiss him, his tongue hot and heavy against her mouth, coaxing her lips open. The sound of belt buckles hitting the floor shamefully turned on Y/N even more. Panic coursed through her senses, her mind wanting to scream for them to stop, but her body knew her too well as she felt a wave of slick run down her thighs. Cold metal digits slipped under the waistband of her panties, moving to her wet folds, and she whimpered into Sam’s mouth at the touch. 

“You look so nice, baby, so pretty all laid out for us like this.” Bucky’s hands pulled down her panties as Steve pinched her peaked nipple through the lace, laying lavish, open-mouthed kisses down her torso. The cool air hit her pussy when Bucky’s hands pulled her legs wide open, fully exposed to the three men ready to use her against her will. “Knew you’d be so wet for us, sweetheart, just look at you. Dripping all for your daddies,” Steve murmured against her skin.

Hot breath fanned over her cunt before they rolled her over on her stomach, someone’s hands forcing her up onto her knees with her face smashed into the cotton pillows. She could feel two rough human hands pulling her ass cheeks apart, spreading her ever wider for their view. “Would you look at that, boys, look how fucking hot she is for us.”

Sam’s thick finger ran through her folds, the calloused pad of his finger just teasing her clit before landing a harsh smack to the inside of her thigh. Her moan was muffled through the mattress and she prayed they wouldn’t hear how being treated like whore made her wet like nothing else. 

Hot slick dripped down her thighs, a pool of it staining the pristine sheets by each knee. It was quite a sight, Steve, kneeled by the bed as his face hovered next to her ear, whispering filthy things into her ear as Bucky stroked his hard, leaking cock right next to him. Sam’s lips were making their way up the inside of her right thigh, cracked skin gliding across her sticky flesh. “Oh, baby,” he purred, “you smell so good. Bet you taste even better, don’t you, little girl?”

His tongue reached the apex of her thighs, finally licking a stipe up her center with no warning. Y/N sobbed into the comforter below her, mascara stained tears marking up her face. Two fingers edged their way between the bed and her face, forcing her head upwards and arching her back. Steve’s face was caught in a dirty smirk above hers, lip pulled taut between his teeth, until he saw the tears trailing down her face. “Oh, sweetheart, you look so desperate like this.” His fingers traced her smeared lip gloss around her lips, before opening her lips harshly. “Open up, you dumb baby.”

Y/N forced her jaw open wider, just enough to watch a string of Steve’s saliva drip into her mouth. The thick spit pooled on her tongue and she tried hard not to grimace in front of him, in hopes that he wouldn’t make her- 

“Swallow it, sweetheart.” He saw the hesitation in her eyes, how her lower lip trembled at his words, but he just laughed at her. “Now.”

The warm saliva slid down her tongue and more black tears ran down her face as she obliged his orders, finally gulping it and cringing at the taste. Steve loved the way her face screwed up in displeasure, how she still had the audacity to pretend she hated what they were doing though she was moaning and whimpering with Sam’s tongue attacking her entrance.

“What do you want, sweetheart? We might give it to you as long as you use your words.” Bucky taunted lightly.

Y/N stared up at the brunette, staring menacingly down at her with his cock in hand. “Please,” she whimpered.

The three found it woeful, the way she could barely get a full sentence out as Sam went to town with his skilled tongue, but even with that onslaught, a simple please wasn’t enough for them.

“Please what, honey,” Sam moaned from between her legs, “you gotta use your big words or we’ll never know what you want from us.”

Steve and Bucky nodded in fake-agreement even though they all knew exactly what she wanted and where. 

“I don’t-” her widened eyes glanced into Steve’s, blown-out and teary. “I don’t want anything, not from you.” She lied through her teeth harshly.

Sam removed his head from between her thighs and Y/N immediately whined at the loss of contact almost hilariously. “You don’t want anything, little girl?” 

The air felt static, every hair on her neck rising in the pressured silence. The angel and the devil clawed at her heart, each trying to show her what was right. And she wanted to sin, God knew that she would love nothing more than to let that little greedy part of her take over, but she’d already cheated on Peter and that damn good part of her conscience stole the wheels of her brain.

Slowly and shamefully, she shook her head, though the downright dirty monster inside of her wanted the men to ignore her words and keep assaulting her body. 

“That’s a shame, baby, I thought we were having fun.” Sam sighed. He met Bucky’s gaze on the side, and though they seemed to be in resignation with her wishes, their eyes twinkled devilishly. He positioned his body over Y/N’s kneeled over form, his bare chest glued to her sweating back as his hands ran up the sides of her ribcage and to her front, just barely grazing over her sensitive nipples. “You mean, you don’t want me to touch you here?”

He pinched the darkened buds and she had to use every ounce of self-restraint to not collapse at the sensation. His calloused hands moved back even further, tracing down to the stretch of skin just above her mound, swiping a finger across the skin delicately. “How about here? Or even,” he brought three fingers around her body, over her ass, and into her glistening cunt again, just rubbing along her entrance, not daring to go further in. Y/N couldn’t hold in her reaction to his prodding anymore, his teasing chipping away all of her dignity and pride in a few simple touches. 

“Yes, please, please, use your fingers,” she blurted against her will. Where shame should have washed over her, there was only lust, raging red and coursing through her body so forcefully that she felt braindead. “Put your fingers in me, daddy, please.”

The pet name rolled off of her tongue so easily and she was barely ashamed of how it made her feel. The name especially shocked the three men, who smiled even wider with their cocks harder than before at the little slip up. “That was all you had to say, dolly, gonna have your daddies make you feel real good,” Bucky laughed.

Sam finally plunged his thick fingers knuckle-deep into her cunt as Steve’s mouth captured hers, effectively swallowing her scream with ferocity. The long digits scissored and swirled inside of her, pressing against new unexplored areas that she’d never even gotten to with her own fingers. White dots danced along the front line of her vision as teeth clashed against hers and though it’d been mere minutes she already knew she was close and the men did as well.

“I can feel you clamping around my fingers, honey,” Sam taunted. His lips were moving sinfully around her ass, planting sloppy kisses and drooling all over her skin while he fingered her deep. “Are you gonna come soon, baby?”

“Yes, daddy, I’m so- fuck,” Y/N panted into Steve’s mouth, “m’ so c-close.” The blond bit her tongue hard enough for her to taste blood and she yelped as she heard Sam and Bucky laugh. 

“Watch your language, dolly,” Bucky sneered from the side of the bed. His hand was rapidly moving around his cock, corkscrew motions edging him towards the brink of pleasure. 

“Little girls like you don’t get to use big swear words,” Sam’s face was still buried between her legs, his soaked fingers pulling out of her cunt only to rub at her little pearl of nerves in circles. His tongue still lapped at her dripping entrance and he could feel her tight hole start to pulse as her breathing picked up. “Oh, baby, you’re getting close, aren’t you?”

Y/N was hesitant to answer at first, the sweat on her body seeming to cool immediately in fear of what would happen if she messed up. But after five seconds Steve stopped kissing her, gripping her chin and staring into her eyes deeply. He looked as debauched as she felt, with his rosy lips swollen with spit and cheeks tinged with pink. “Are you gonna answer daddy, sweetheart?”

That knocked her into shape real fast.

“Yes, daddy, I’m so close. P-please let me come,” she whimpered. The whine in her voice pleased the two men, and Steve went back to exploring her mouth before she felt something poking against her asshole.

“Gonna let daddy put his cock in you, little girl?” Sam asked gently. His words had panic coursing through her system, a chilling realization like water being poured on her head and she began to wiggle around, trying to free Sam’s hand from her hip. Her arms weakly pushed at Steve’s chest, trying to push him as far away as he could, but the men only laughed at her flailing limbs. Y/N wanted to scream no to them, and despite her contrasting love-hate relationship with Sam’s fingers inside her cunt she knew it was time to go. It was laughable how much she would continue to say that to herself for the rest of the night. 

But Sam managed to sense her panic, knowing exactly what the issue was before harshly spanking her and effectively stopping her struggle. “Don’t worry, baby, I won’t come inside of you. I’m not risking knocking up a whore with my kids, I’ve got more dignity than that.”

He led the leaking tip of his dick down her crack, rubbing it along her slick entrance before pushing in with a groan. “Oh my fucking God, that is so hot.” Bucky admonished from the side. “Gotta get in on that soon.”

Steve chuckled against Y/N’s lips, pulling away with a strand of saliva connecting them. He adjusted himself up so his dick was centimeters from her face, a knee propped up on the bed for balance. “Gotta wait your turn, Buck, we all want a piece of her.” He noticed the way Y/N’s eyes were transfixed on his cock, the red mushroom head smeared with precome along the slit, nearly purplish veins standing out prominently on his shaft. Yeah, he couldn’t even deny that he was big because he already knew how many girls had dropped down on their knees for him. “Go ahead, sweetheart, open up those pretty lips for me.”

Almost too excitedly, she dropped her jaw, allowing him to slide his cock into the silky warmth of her mouth. As his hips started to thrust into her mouth, Sam’s started to do the same into her cunt. Both men moaned in tandem with their movements as Y/N’s worries faded away to the back of her mind as they stuffed her to the brim.

“You can come now, baby,” Sam nearly ordered, “go and cream on daddy’s cock- fuck, I know you’ve been waiting.”

It was a harsh bump of his head against her G-spot that sent her over the edge, walls clamping down with ferocity and milking him for all she was worth. Y/N reeled in the sunlight infested warmth that coursed through her body as she finally let go, whining around Steve’s dick as he continued to abuse her throat with long, deep thrusts. 

Bucky was still holding his orgasm off, fondling with his tight, heavy sac while his dick remained a painfully hard mess, glistening with precome. “I’m so glad I got to see you come, dolly, look so fucking pretty when you do.”

She couldn’t deny the little skip of her heart at the praise, just a few simple words that made her feel like a good little girl. But no, God-fucking no, she wasn’t supposed to let them make her feel this way. Guilt washed away that warmth in her chest just as quickly, knowing that her boyfriend was just waiting to come back to see her, finishing up his studies so that they could live their lives out together after college while she was getting her pussy and mouth absolutely wrecked by his co-workers. 

As soon as Y/N got her brain thinking straight again, Sam started moving inside of her again and she garbled out a strangled cry. “If you thought we were done here, baby,” Sam laughed, “you’ve got a lot left ahead of you.”

“We’re not leaving until all of us have come, brat.” Steve’s palm gripped the back of her skull roughly, pushing her head so far down on his dick that her nose was squished against his abdomen. “Greedy little bitch.”

Both men started to thrust into her again, and just like that she was back to being absolutely lost in desire and lust like the bitch in heat she was until there was a sudden shift in the air. So much that the sweat on her body began to cool her skin, Sam’s hands still gripping her hips so tightly she knew they’d leave marks that she would have to hide when she wore her favorite low-cut shorts. 

Bucky’s eyes seemed to drift from her tits moving with each movement of her hips, checking behind the door as if there were something lurking there, but she was too afraid to see for herself. If she stopped she would get spanked, and they’d probably prolong her second orgasm even further, and her pussy couldn’t handle any more subtle teasing.  

“Hey there, Parker, why don’t come on out here?”

But that, that was what made the hairs on Y/N’s neck rose, dread filling her to the fullest as she realized the implications of Sam’s words.

Peter had seen everything. Peter, her boyfriend, had seen three of his co-workers, three men who she barely knew, fuck her deep into his mattress. Peter, her boyfriend, had watched her get fucked into his mattress, without trying to stop them whatsoever.

She couldn’t tell if it was the guilt of cheating on her boyfriend or the freezing realization that he hadn’t done anything to stop the three men that hurt more. 

Yet Peter still walked from behind the door, dressed in a NYU hoodie and a pair of khakis slung low on his hips, just drawing attention to the sizable bulge that stretched out his zipper. His umber eyes, normally full of so much joy and love, were possessed by the same lust and darkness as the three men, as much as he tried to hide it behind a shyer facade. 

His eyes were trained on the tightness of how Y/N’s pussy was gripping Sam, her lips glossed over with come and spit wrapped around Steve’s dick. The girl stopped in her movements, her eyes no longer full of tears for just being gagged, but as soon as her mouth came to a halt around the base of his cock, the blond slapped her across the face. A sharp crack echoed around the room and though she couldn’t see him, she heard Bucky’s feral growl of pleasure at the whorish treatment she was receiving. 

“Didn’t say you could fucking stop, sweetheart, keep working on daddy’s cock.” No more words needed to be said as Steve gripped her hair once more, forcing himself farther back into her throat to the point where she couldn’t breathe. Sam’s thrusts were quickening, closer and closer to release as the sounds of the girl struggling to breath made his balls tighten. 

“Fucking shit, baby, you feel yourself squeezing my dick? I bet you like teasing daddy like that, don’t you?” One of his hands were brought down on her ass in a quick smack that resonated with Bucky, who was staving off his orgasm for something much sweeter than his hand. She was moaning raucously around the dick stuffed in her mouth, the vibrations sending jolts of pleasure up every nerve in Steve’s body as he came with the tip of his dick nearly being swallowed by Y/N’s throat. There was barely any time for her to fully down the thick come in her mouth before Sam was threatening to orgasm. “I’m gonna come so soon but you better fucking not, little girl, you hear me? Gotta let your daddy come before you, you ungrateful little bitch- oh.”

It was a really fucking close call, Sam’s dick pulling out of her with one quick movement before spilling pearly ropes of come onto Y/N’s spine. A high whine escaped her mouth, clit throbbing as she was so, so close to coming, and she was too far into her crazed pleasure to realize that she was letting three older men, men who fought to defend the universe from evil, use her as an over-glorified fleshlight. 

She couldn’t really blame them for calling her a cockdrunk whore. 

Bucky sauntered over to the bed, eyes trained on the pool of come centered around the base of her spine before flipping her over onto her back with his large hands and shoving three vibranium fingers back into her hole. She gasped and held onto his forearm as he continued to fingerfuck her to her second orgasm, eyes screwed shut in a delirious haze of contentment for being filled with at least something again. 

“Bucky, Bucky, Bucky, please-” Steve slapped her along the face, correcting her words immediately. “Daddy, daddy, please let me come.”

Bucky chuckled, tweaking one of her nipples with his flesh hand as he hovered over her face. “I don’t know, dolly, you’ve been a little naughty, callin’ me the wrong name, not listening to Stevie’s orders- don’t think you deserve to get what you want.”

A muffled whimper escaped her swollen lips, and he sighed in surrender. “Okay, dollface, go ahead and come on my fingers. Let me see how you wet ‘em up real good.”

Y/N’s hips bucked into his metal digits with finality, come leaking out of her cunt and soaking the sheets below her. Her sweat-glazed skin shone even against the darkening sky, and all Bucky could do was chuckle at how her chest rose quickly as she tried to catch her breath. He thought about teasing her clit again, just circling around the little bud of nerves to get a rise out of her, but he decided against it. Sam probably had better plans for her anyway. 

On the other hand, Y/N’s orgasm was starting to wear off as she noticed the hardened stare from the edge of the room. Her boyfriend.

“Peter, I…” Y/N made eye contact with him, suddenly noticing how mousy he looked in his own bedroom. 

“I nearly forgot you were here, Parker,” Sam smirked darkly. “Why don’t you come over here and fuck your little whore. I’m feeling a little generous today.”

Steve and Bucky nodded with the same infuriating smugness as Sam. The brunette boy opened his mouth to object to the degrading statement, but when he met his girlfriend’s eyes nothing needed to be said. There was no escaping this. Nothing he said mattered to the three older men, because really they had already gotten everything they wanted right in front of their disgusting, perverted eyes. 

He unbuckled his belt, letting the weight of it drop his khakis to the floor. Maybe if he’d known he would be forced into join a fivesome later that night he’d have picked any other boxers but the Ducktales one, but no one seemed to say a word about them, rather focusing on what they were failing to conceal. 

Peter’s cock had always been admirable to Y/N by its length and God, definitely its thickness. Curved upwards towards his abdomen with a vein running along the left side up to the bulbous head, it was definitely more than average. It was really just a shame he didn’t know how to use it well enough.

His shirt was pulled over his head just as quickly, and if Y/N knew any better she would say that he was excited to get to fuck her in front of the three men. He placed himself in between Y/N’s parted legs, standing in the same position as he had so many times before.

But when Y/N cried out in pain and pleasure as he slid into her, Peter knew that this time, it was different. This time three men, men that he used to trust with his life, stood on either side of him and his girlfriend and jerked their hands up and down their cocks as they watched her get fucked relentlessly. It wasn’t sweet, it wasn’t romantic, but he couldn’t really think when his thick cock was stuffed inside of her stimulated pussy, juices and come leaking out of her abused sex. 

“Go faster, Parker,” Steve instructed, his face contorted in pure pleasure. The pace of Peter’s thrusts sped up, and he threw Y/N’s ankles over his shoulders, hitting deeper inside of her, with the sound of her sobs only turning them all on more. “Oh, right there, shit, shit, shit-”

Steve came first, a low groan escaping his lips as streams of come landed on her tits, still bouncing with every movement of Peter’s hips. 

“Open up,” Sam gritted through his teeth, and Y/N obediently opened her mouth to let his bitter come coat the inside of her throat, some of it landing on her face and neck. The string of curses he let out made Peter thrust even faster into her, and he hated, absolutely despised the way it turned him on to see the three men use his girlfriend to their pleasure. But soon enough a hand pushed against his chest away from Y/N and he reluctantly pulled out.

“Move aside, kid,” Bucky instructed, “Wanna come inside of her.”

As he lined his gigantic cock up with her entrance, her eyes widened with fear. “No, please, I didn’t take my pills, I can’t- I won’t, please not inside-”

“Shut the fuck up, you slut.” Bucky’s fingers came to slap her clit harshly, and she cried out in pain. “You’re gonna be quiet and let me come wherever I damn want, right?”

He punctuated his last word as he thrust inside her, filling her up to the hilt with his girth. She was too drunk on the feeling of her cunt being filled up to argue again. It was painful, extremely so, even though two different cocks had been inside her overstimulated pussy already and Bucky stretched her out wide, his cock thicker with veins to hit every pleasure point. With her legs tossed around his tapered torso, he slid out until his very tip was left in her, then slammed back in with a small moan. The head of his cock relentlessly pounded into her cervix in a nearly soundless tempo and all Y/N could hear were her own gasps of pleasure, jaw-dropping moans that made drool slide back down her throat in her laid down position.

She turned her head to the side, and though her vision was bleary through the tears, she could see Sam and Steve watching Bucky fuck her while Peter, her boyfriend, her sweet, sweet boyfriend, was caught up fucking his hand to the sound of Bucky’s balls slapping against her ass. 

“Fuck, ‘m not gonna last much longer, dollface.” Bucky gasped. “You gonna come soon? You’re gonna come for daddy one more time. I think you’ve got a third one in you, you little fucking slut.”

“Shit, shit, daddy, please ‘m almost there,” Y/N wailed absentmindedly. A thumb came down to circle her clit quickly and she felt the coil in her stomach grow tighter and tighter, until she finally let out a high whine, finding her release as Bucky’s cock pulsed inside of her, ready to come just as easily as her. Her pussy clenched around his cock as she rode out her orgasm, fingers grasping at the sheets in order to find some sort of grounding. His come painted her walls white, and Bucky could’ve sworn there was no better feeling than feeling his blood warm in every vein as he finally let go. With stunted groans, his hips slowed its rhythm, lost in watching how his cock disappear into Y/N’s pussy, her slick juices coating his dick each time he pulled out. 

“Ah, fuck, dolly, you did so good for me. Pussy tight as a fuckin’ vice.” Bucky hugged her limp body close to his sweaty chest, letting his dick soften inside of her for a good few moments before pulling out. He tossed Y/N back onto the bed below him, barely even caring to clean the come dripping down her ribcage and out of her cunt before grabbing his boxers from the cabinet next to the bed. 

Steve was already buttoning his jeans up, checking the notifications on his phone before shoving it back into his pocket. The blond seemed to have better things to do so soon after, rushing his way to the door before pausing where Y/N laid to watch come drip out of her pussy. One more time he pushed Bucky’s come inside of her abused entrance, watching as it oozed out from behind his digits. “Look at you, fucking full of of his come. Such a goddamn whore,” he muttered under his breath.

Those were the last words he said to her before patting Bucky on the shoulder and leading him out of the opened door. 

Maybe Sam was a bit more kind, or affectionate at least. He was already dressed but visibly hard again beneath the thick denim of his pants, and he made sure Y/N knew it, taking her left hand and placing it over his dick. “You still got that effect on me, honey, even when you’re all fucked out like this.” He dragged his fingers through the thick ribbons of come that coated her chest, bringing them up to her mouth so she could taste. Even though she was more than exhausted, she wrapped her tongue around the two fingers that were pushed past her swollen lips, sucking them clean with a tired vengeance. Satisfied with her work, he kissed her chin one more time before leaving without so much as another word, slamming the door shut on his way out.

Click.

It ended exactly the way it started, the lock jostling into the doorknob just as easily as the high of Y/N’s final orgasm slipped away.

Stifling silence suffocated the room around them. Peter refused to meet her eyes, just as much as hers did his. She laid motionless on the bed with him standing at the foot, his dick soft and if she narrowed her bleary eyes just a bit, she could see how his knees were shaking. Neither of them were able to say anything, losing the ability to converse as soon as the three men left the room.

“Peter,” her voice was throaty after the rough fucking she took, “C-can you please get me a drink?”

The brown-haired boy looked down to meet her face, and she could finally see the reason that he had hid it from her. His eyes were red and bloodshot, snot running from his nose with tears running down his cheeks. She’d been so caught up in the after haze of the sex that she didn’t even notice how his bare chest was heaving so deeply, nearing hyperventalation. 

But still, he grabbed his boxers, pulling them over his weakened legs clumsily. “Y-yeah, what kind do you want, Mr. Stark has a ton-”

“I don’t care.” She cut him off firmly, a sharp tone in her voice as she rolled over on her side. Y/N tucked her knees to her chin, fingers running over the side of her neck which was marked with bruises and scratches. “I don’t fucking care.”

Without another word Peter slipped out of the room quietly, knowing better than to try to talk to her about what they had been forced to participate in. It wasn’t as if there was much to say anyways.

Rain pattered against the window. It was only six o’clock in the evening. Cars honked and beeped and Natasha’s Igor Stavinsky record played for its fiftieth round of the day, and to anyone else in the tower it was a normal night. Normal, just like the ones spent sitting on the couch with Bucky’s hand creeping up her leg or Sam’s hands groping her ass, but this time they’d made a move. 

The silence was far too much to handle, the unspoken truth of what she’d done with Bucky, Steve, Sam, and Peter finally hitting her, knocking the air out of her lungs as she suddenly struggled to breathe. Gripping her face, clawing at it like a goddamn wolf, Y/N began to cry. Silently at first, gradually growing into heartbroken sobs, she let her trodden pride carry her voice wherever it wanted to go. 

The men’s whispered words haunted her mere moments after they’d left the room, but most audibly she could hear a faint husk of a voice, Sam’s low moan in her ear looming in the dreadful silence of the room:

Thanks for sharing with us, baby.

[ikeromantic]

Fake It Til You Make It

A Mitsuhide Akechi fanfiction - approx. 2200 words. This scene takes place post-romantic epilogue. Fluff and a little spice.

First: Mitsuhide and the Maiden

Previous: Adrift

Kyubei watched the innkeeper through narrowed eyes. Though the man was clearly nervous, he didn’t seem to be lying. His story hadn’t changed in the last three tellings, so either he was an accomplished liar or he was telling the truth.

“L-lord Akechi and the woman left with one of the Akechi warriors. Right after we saw the fire across the lake,” the innkeeper said for the fourth time. “Then the storm came and after that, no one saw him.”

“Do you remember anything else? Did anyone else come in after they left? Did you see anyone acting strangely?”

The man shook his head. “No, I mean, not really? Everyone was a bit strange after we saw the blaze. Wondering if Azuchi was still standing.” He frowned. “You think it might have been Lord Akechi? Him disappearing like that right after -”

Kyubei cut him off. “No. That was the work of the Mouri clan.” It wasn’t the first person he’d spoken with that suspected. And why wouldn’t they? Mitsuhide was only just back from his misadventure at the shogun’s side. An ally in disgrace. A man not to be trusted.

The worst part of all this was that Kyubei really had no idea what his lord wanted him to do. Should he quash the rumors? Encourage them? Mitsuhide’s instructions from his last letter said nothing about an attack on Azuchi - not like this - and nothing about disappearing. Of course, he pretended like he knew exactly what was going on. He had to, until he received additional instructions.

“So . . . am I free to go?” The innkeeper was frowning now. His nervousness replaced by a desire to get back to making money at the inn.

“For now,” Kyubei said. He gave the man a hard stare. “If I need anything else, I will send someone for you.”

The innkeeper bowed and left, leaving Kyubei alone with his thoughts. It really seemed that in the storm, his lord had simply vanished into thin air. And Miyake too.

Perhaps they'd left with Ranmaru, who was also missing. But if so, there would be a letter. A message. Something!

The castle staff had no idea where he was - they’d waited for him to return for hours. Miyake’s squad couldn’t find their commander either. Both men were expected.

And the chatelaine . . . his lady. Kyubei worried that he had failed to protect her again.

***

Morning came with pale light through a high window. It fell across four careworn, sleeping faces. Sasuke and Miyake lay in a tangle of blankets on the floor, and in a bed, Mitsuhide clung to his little mouse. He woke with the first notes of bird-song, but kept his eyes shut. He wasn’t ready to confront the strange world of 500 years in the future just yet.

His little one stirred in his arms as the sound of morning birds turned into a hum of outside activity. “Is it . . . are we really . . .” She opened her eyes and looked around Sarutobi’s flat. “We’re really here.”

Mitsuhide nodded.

“I want to be happy about it, but . . .”

He shushed her with a kiss. “It will be fine. Worrying won’t return us faster.”

She sighed and buried her face against his chest. “I know. I just hope everyone is alright.”

“They will be,” Mitsuhide reassured her. He didn’t think of it as a lie - simply an assumption he based on his past experience. Nobunaga would handle this threat as he did others that came before it.

And Kyubei would see to what the left hand needed to be doing.

Sasuke sat up, rubbing his face. “I apologize for the accommodations,” he told them. The same apology he’d given the night before.

“At least we had somewhere to sleep.” The chatelaine sat up and wiggled out of the blanket. “I should probably check on my flat and see if it’s still mine. If so, we won't have to impose on you a second night. Although,” she sighed. “I don’t have my ID or my keys or anything.”

“I don't mind,” Sasuke replied. “You are welcome to continue crashing here. Although, we may not be here for long. Weren’t there activities you wanted to do in this time? While you can?” His left eyebrow lifted almost imperceptibly.

Mitsuhide gave her one of his slow, warm smiles. His fingers traced a path down her spine. “Yes, you did mention some things I would like to see, since we are here.”

His little mouse arched like a cat against his hand. “I did . . . yes. Alright. Since we’re here, we might as well try to enjoy it!”

Miyake rolled over on the floor and pulled the blanket over his head.

“I take it that means you plan to stay here for the day?”

Sasuke answered for the half-asleep warrior. “Actually, I would really appreciate it if Miyake would accompany me. I need to go to my university and make some arrangements.”

Miyake groaned and sat up. He blinked as his gaze went around the room, taking in all the strange objects. Finally, he settled on the ninja. “You need protection or something?”

“No. I don’t think anyone will attack me.” Sasuke felt around for his glasses and slid them on. “But I expect to be moving some heavy equipment in the lab. And I may have a friend who can help us out with those arrangements, if you're there to corroborate my story.”

“Corr what?” Miyake frowned.

“Authenticate. Like a two factor security key.” The ninja grinned.

The warrior looked to Mitsuhide uncertainly.

“If Sarutobi believes you can assist him today, then that is what you will do. I am sure my fiancée and I will be fine.”

The chatelaine looked less certain about this, but she nodded agreement.

The four of them took turns dressing in the ‘washroom’ to give each other privacy. His morning was one of surprise as the . . . toilet . . . squirted him with water. And warm or cold water came from a metal spigot at the turn of a handle too, spilling into a porcelain basin. There were more smokeless lanterns - electric lights they were called - and other wonders.

Had Mitsunari been there, he was sure the scholar could have spent weeks studying every device but Mitsuhide just needed to know how to use it.

In this place, he was the naïve child, and his little one, the wise teacher. Such a shift in their positions was hard to take. Mitsuhide didn’t think of himself as arrogant but this situation was humbling in the extreme. Thankfully, he managed to get through dressing and breakfast without any serious mishaps.

Sasuke and Miyake left to the university. The flat was silent in their wake. Mitsuhide and his little mouse sat on the edge of the bed. She was tapping away at a . . . tablet . . . to get access to her accounts. The electronic scroll was interesting, at least. With pictures and writing all lit up so you could read it even in the dark.

Mitsuhide stood and stretched, trying to get used to moving in his new clothes. They were Sarutobi’s and didn’t quite fit. He was dressed in a pair of pants that clung tightly to his legs and ended short of his ankle. The top was a soft weave, dyed black. It sported an odd blue character on it and the word Sonic. Sarutobi said the picture was a hedgehog, whatever that was.

He would have liked to wear something without a picture on it. He’d had the choice between this one and something with a lizard that walked on two legs and shot fire from its mouth. Those were the only two shirts the ninja had that were long enough to cover him to his waist. And there was no way he was walking around with a bare midriff. Even if his little mouse looked interested in the idea.

Her midriff was bare afterall, she’d laughed. And it was - sort of. She tied one of Sasuke’s shirts in a bow under her breasts and had a pair of his shorts on. Though Mitsuhide wasn’t familiar with the clothes of this time, he thought she looked like a child trying to fit into her father’s clothes. Endearingly cute, but ill fit. Some of the clothes they saw women wearing on the way in the night before would have looked much better on her.

She looked up as if she knew he was thinking about her. “Ok, I think we’re ready to go.”

“Where to, my love?”

“Well, first to my apartment. It looks like my rent payments have all been made. And the building manager knows me so I should be able to get a spare key.” Her smile was all relief.

They arrived to the apartment, a small space in a tall building that reminded Mitsuhide of a castle, if the castle was robbed of all charm and beauty. Her room was utilitarian and sterile, and while there was still the wonder of technology, he could see none of her personality in the space. He said as much.

“Hm, yeah. I didn’t really have time to decorate. The apartment came furnished. I moved in and then, well,” she laughed. “I ended up in Azuchi with you.”

Mitsuhide pulled her into a hug. “A fate worse than death, little mouse?”

“You know it wasn’t,” she giggled, laughing harder as he ran his fingers down her sensitive sides. Holding her like this felt like home, even if nothing else was familiar.

After several slow breaths, they let go of each other.

“I must confess, I cannot see you living in this place. It doesn’t seem very safe. And you don’t have much room for your sewing.” Mitsuhide couldn’t help but poke into her cabinets, shelves, and drawers.

She nodded. “Yeah, it’s pretty small but it was a place I could afford on my own.”

Mitsuhide heard the pride in her voice. He smiled. “I can imagine you coming here, determined to make it on your own.” He turned from the cabinet he was inspecting to see her stripping off her shirt.

Her pert breasts were a pleasant surprise, but she crossed her arms over them as soon as she saw him looking. “I’m just changing clothes! I didn’t want to wear Sasuke’s basketball shorts all day.”

“Please, continue.”

“I - I can’t while you’re staring at me!” She turned so that all he could see was her back.

Mitsuhide laughed. “Are we not lovers? How many times have I kissed, nibbled, caressed every bit of your skin from head to toe?”

She shivered, skin dimpling with remembered touches. Slow, nervous, she turned back around. Her arms lowered, revealing her chest again. “You can watch if you want to.”

He wasn’t sure if it was nerves or mischief that made her voice squeak at the end. Either was amusing. “Mmm, I’m a lucky man to get a show.”

“You are,” she smiled. Her fingers went to the tie on the shorts. They fell away, pooling around her feet. Underneath, she wore nothing.

Mitsuhide sucked in a breath.

Her hips swayed as she walked to her wardrobe. She glanced over her shoulder at him and fluttered her eyelashes, trying to be saucy. The effect was a little spoiled by the blush that ran from her cheeks to the tips of her ears. From within the wardrobe she pulled out a little twist of cloth. It was light blue and made of some embroidered material.

He didn’t realize he could see her skin through it until she slipped it on, slowly pulling the fabric taut over her curves. Though she was technically covered, it was somehow more tempting than just skin alone. “What . . . is that?”

“Panties.” She giggled. Then she pulled out a matching bit of cloth and wrapped it around her chest. The rise of her breasts were restrained by this new piece of clothing as she reached behind her as if to tie it.

“And that?”

“My bra.” She turned right, then left, letting him get a good view.

The sight made Mitsuhide want to simultaneously rip the clothing off her and still enjoy looking at her in them. It wasn’t possible to have both . . .

“To be honest, it’s been kind of nice not wearing these the last few months. But I think I would feel weird if I didn’t wear them with my modern clothes.”

“I like them.” Mitsuhide smiled widely. A grin that brought heat to her gaze before she looked away, suddenly shy. He knew this ground well. Even here in a world where everything was strange, his little one was the same.

He stepped forward, reaching to cup her cheek. His other hand settled lightly on her hip, fingertips stroking the skin just above the fabric of her panties. She inhaled sharply, lips parting. Mitsuhide took the invitation.

The kiss was, at first, gentle and sweet, but the press of their bodies built heat between them. Their breath mingled, tongues entwined. Hands grasping, stroking, pulling. Tearing.

Mitsuhide stopped at the sound of fabric ripping.

His little one gasped and reached down to feel the damage. Her eyes widened. “You . . . tore my panties.” Then she started to laugh.

He laughed too. Never in his life had he expected a woman so wonderful. A woman he would want badly enough to - literally - tear the clothes off her. This kind of passion he’d always believed was fake. Yet here he was. It was unthinkable. Incredible. “I love you,” Mitsuhide told her, smiling so widely that it hurt.

“I love you too.”

She gestured to the wardrobe. "I should probably, you know. Finish." It took only a moment for her to shimmy into her own clothes. Then they headed out into this strange world that was his home 500 years after death.

Next: Kitsune's Day Out

[darker-soft-starker]

Starker High School AU, Pt 3 (Pt 1, Pt 2, Pt 4, Pt 5)

-----

There were two things in life that Peter was unequivocally certain were true.

Number one was that Monday mornings were a universally despised, unpleasant experience that no weekend could ever ease the pain of having to endure.

And number two: Sit-ups were a specific and profound mechanism of torture that no person should ever be required to engage in, recreationally or mandated.

Of course, it would be just his luck that the two were combined on this very Monday morning.

It was cruel and unusual is what it was, Peter thought, hands curled at his temples as he pushes himself into a sitting position, falling back onto the dewy grass with a thud that steals the breath from his chest.

Bucky, holding his ankles, encourages him to complete his set.

“I can’t,” Peter gasps, his stomach trembling as he pulls himself up again. “I - oh fuck - I hate this. I hate exercise.”

Bucky squeezes his ankles tighter. “C’mon, Parker, only three more. You can do it.”

Peter shakes his head, even as he pulls himself up again with a pained groan.

“No, I can’t. Make it stop.”

“Two more. You got it. Sit-ups are not the boss of you.”

“Yes - ahh - they are!”

“One more!”

Sweat pours down his neck and his muscles protest as he pulls himself up for the last time. He gets probably only most of the way up before his gravity slams to the ground.

Bucky slaps his bare calf encouragingly as Peter stares up into the glaring morning sun, arms splayed out, his chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath. Oh, god. Never again. That was the worst. 

Covering his eyes with his quivering arms he wonders if maybe coach will indulge him just this once. Maybe he can stay here until training is over, perhaps curl up into a ball and try to blend in with the grass so that no one sees him or subjects him to any more exercise. 

Except Coach Danvers is already yelling at him to get off the ground and get moving.

He smacks his hands over his ears but it’s no use.

“Get up Parker, last warning!”

“Respite!” He yells back pleadingly, curling in tighter upon himself. “Please!”

Her whistle pierces the air.

“Now!”

Coach has been on edge all morning. Her harsh has turned razor edged in the face of their upcoming match against Kingston this Thursday, reminding the team of her expectations, tolerating nothing other than complete dedication.

Which, whatever.

Peter’s dedicated, okay? It’s Monday. He dragged his ass out of bed to be here at an unholy hour, exhausted and bloated from his indulgent weekend, didn’t he?

Erring on the margin of spite towards Danvers and self motivation, which he suspects is her aim, he pushes himself back up. Taking each of Bucky’s ankles in his grip, he starts counting as Bucky begins his set. 

Not that he needs the assistance, Bucky proves his strength by ripping through the set like a bull stampeding through a brick wall. He doesn’t even break a sweat. Dude’s crazy athletic.

It’s really not fair.

As he mentally counts the reps, Peter thinks Bucky’s the kind of fit that Peter both hoped and never hoped to be. He’s effortlessly capable at any physical task, but he works hard for it, harder than Peter would ever dream of working, dedicating hours to gym time and conditioning. Bucky’s not even out of breath when he strikes up conversation. 

“How was your weekend, PP?”

“S’okay. Played Mario Kart with my Aunt all weekend.”

Bucky grins as his upper half rises to meet his knees. “Oh, party animal. She doing okay?”

“Yeah, she’s good,” Peter grins wryly, taking one of his hands from the other’s ankle to push the sweat-damp hair from his eyes. “Kicked my ass though. She always takes Toad.”

“Switch?”

“Nah, GameCube. How was your weekend?”

“Boring. Parents were home all weekend and wanted some ‘family time’.”

“So, you just watched The Voice all weekend?”

“Yup.”

“Nat sneak in after?”

“Yup. How’d it go with Stark on Friday?” Bucky accepts Peter’s hand as he finishes his set. Peter pulls him up and pats him on the back.

The set off in a jog to complete a lap of the field, Coach yells that only five minutes are left, urging them to pick up speed. Peter’s lungs burn when he speaks.

“It was fine.”

Bucky looks at him dubiously, flyaways whipping at his face.

“Well not like, fine-fine, but no bloodshed. See? All limbs intact.” He holds his arms out mid-sprint. 

“Wow, so you’re basically best friends now.”

“No.”

“Did you hold hands and braid each other’s hair?”

Incensed, Peter shoves at Bucky to the sound of his snickering,

“Ew, stop, I just had breakfast. Look, the first experience was painful enough. Can we move on? I really don’t want to talk about it.”

---

“And then he hit on my Aunt,” Peter complains in the showers, soaping up his chest. “Literally right in front of me. Who does that?”

“Did she flirt back?” Bucky asks, dipping his head into the spray. 

“What? No. He said he was just trying to get under my skin,” he puts his head beneath his own shower head, the water pleasantly lukewarm against his heated skin. “I mean, what kind of psychopath does that?”

“Yeah, but your aunt is super hot though,” Wilson says to his right. “Stark’s an asshole, but he’s not crazy.”

There is a general murmur of agreement around the showers. 

“I’m going to need you all to shut up right now,” Peter warns, turning to point at them all. “Keep my aunts name out of your mouth while you’re washing your balls, alright?”

“You heard him, move on,” Rogers cuts in, offering Peter a sympathetic smile. 

He nods gratefully as conversation quickly turns to girls, grades and the upcoming Thanksgiving holidays. There was a reason why Peter was on Roger’s side all these weeks ago, he thinks, observing how the entire team respects his command without query. The guy was just interested in doing the right thing, and that’s pretty cool.

By the time they’re all dried and dressed, the topic is forgotten, much to Peter’s relief. He’s nearly late to first period though, too busy watching Wilson and Barnes smack each other with wet towels and attempting to tame his unruly curls into something resembling neatness. He’s not proud of the amount of gel it takes, but it’s what he’s got to work with. 

It’s not that he’s obsessed with his appearance or anything, but he has a routine that he sticks to. Gel and lots of it.

Once, in third grade, Flash pulled one of Peter’s tightly coiled ringlet between his fingers, pulled on it and said oink. Peter still had some lingering baby fat at the time and so, as cruel as children can be, Peter was donned Piggy Parker for a time afterwards. Sometimes Porky Parker. They’re friends now, but the oinking and snuffling that followed him around the playground still haunts him.

Anyway.

On the way to first period Rogers walks alongside him down the hall. They have English together, but usually make their way separately. It kind of weirded Peter out for a moment because while they’re team-mates, they’re not really friends. 

“Heard you got paired with Stark for an assignment,” the other boy says, his wry smile caught between amused and sympathetic. “That’s shit luck, Parker.” 

“You’re telling me,” Peter agrees, waving to Ned and Betty as they pass. “Dude’s a freakin’ prick.”

Rogers bumps their shoulders together.

“You said it. Want me to have a word with him, get him to back off?”

“Nah,” Peter shakes his head. “I can handle Stark, he’s just some bored rich kid looking for a fight. Besides,” he gives Rogers a once-over, “pretty sure you’re supposed to keep your distance after your last brawl with him.”

“True,” he concedes, clamping Peter’s shoulder and giving it a squeeze as they stop before their room. “But we’re a team, alright? Just say the word and I’ll encourage some sense into him. Promise to be gentle.”

Peter clamps his hands over his heart with a flair of drama, despite being truly touched. “You’re my hero, Captain Rogers.”

Rogers rolls his eyes and shoves him into the classroom.

“Alright, smartass. Let’s go.”

Inside, he smiles sheepishly at Mrs Perez who glowers at them for their lateness and takes his usual seat between Clint and Shuri. He signs a good morning to the former and smiles at the latter, who is staring down at her desk with disdain.

“What’s wrong?” He nudges her chair with his foot to grab her attention.

“The curriculum.” She raises her head and points to the board miserably. It reads Lord of the Flies.

Oh, great. He could use the nap.

Peter smiles sympathetically, opening his nearly full notebook up to a blank page. “How was your weekend?”

“Meh.”

“Meh?”

“Mmm,” She nods, gesturing airily. “You know, eh. Oh, oh! I heard you spent the weekend getting cosy with Stark,” Shuri follows, pretending to search through their textbook. “Wow, that’s a three-sixty, PP. Didn’t know you had it in you.”

“What?” Peter hisses, voice lowering when their teacher looks around as roll-call commences. “That’s not -- ”

“Parker!” Perez yells for roll call.

“Present!”

Shuri snickers as Peter’s hand shoots up.

Lucky for him it’s the last he hears of it.

Kinda.

---

His next class is Bio with MJ who, thankfully, says very little through class. She inspects him with bleary eyes when he enters, nursing a coffee in her hands, always earlier than Peter who has to come from the other side of the school.

Peter’s grateful for the reprieve. When she does speak to him, it’s to borrow a pen or to offer him a sip of her coffee. It’s not a lab class today, only note-taking and listening to their teacher drone on about plant anatomy in the same monotone, so he accepts the bitter black coffee without hesitation.

It’s only then that he ventures to initiate conversation.

“So,” he begins precariously, doodling in his notebook, “how was your weekend?”

She shrugs, appearing more awake than earlier. “It was okay. You?”

“It was okay.”

And that was that, he’s relieved to note, companionable silence falling between again as they turn their attention to their teacher again. It’s not until they’re packing up their books at the end of class that MJ speaks to him again.

“See you at lunch?”

“Yeah, dude. Save us a table?”

“You bet. Oh, and by the way, I heard Stark is gonna be your new step-daddy. Congrats.”

Peter groans.

“How do you -- you know what, no,” he says, pulling his backpack over his shoulders and making a x with his arms. “Nope. No more talking about Stark, he is persona non grata. I’m traumatised enough.”

MJ pushes his glasses up after they slipped precariously down his nose during his declaration. “You’re so dramatic, dude.”

He bumps their shoulders together on the way out of the room and shakes his head.

“Why do people keep saying that?”

---

Ned texts him during recess; Peter is taking an extended break in the bathroom despite not needing to be there, but he’s definitely not hiding, nope. He’s just chilling in the cubicle.

< heard stark spent the weekend < lol wtf < plz verify < actually i don’t want to know < no wait i do tell me < dude

< hello?

----

Traitors, all of them.

He wonders if he should leave this school and start anew elsewhere.

---

Here’s the thing.

As much as Peter loves his friends, he has limits to how long he can spend with them before needing a time out.

They’re his motley crew of village idiots. Some he’s known since first grade, like Ned and Flash, others only since he came to the school and subsequently, the football team.

This school headhunted him because of his academic merit. With his pursuit of scholastic excellence - and the fact that some of his best friends would be attending the school, he applied for and was awarded a scholarship. It was a no-brainer - he had big dreams and even bigger expectations of himself to achieve them and he wanted May to be proud of him.

Which was why when it was suggested that he try out for JV, having exhibited some physicality during gym class, he decided to give it a try. It would look great to have on his applications, he was assured.

So he did. Somehow his wiry frame and years of gymnastics was considered an asset and he was promptly recruited by Coach Danvers. At first he deeply regretted the additional commitment -- the early hours, the soreness, adapting to the internal culture within the team. But he’s persevered and he’s glad that he did. 

And for the most part, he copes okay. He can juggle football obligations and after-school activities and the odd tutoring jobs here and there and stay sane, right?

Sort of.

Because as grateful as he was for his broad circle of friends, Peter was still, at heart, an introvert. And right now, his social energy is running on fumes. 

It’s because of this - and nothing to do with the relentless questions about Stark - that Peter retreats to the library at lunch that day. 

Nestled away in the dusty, back corner, near the collection of old encyclopaedias that nobody reads, are an assortment of bean bags. It’s away from the main area, quiet and disregarded by most. It used to be a thriving recreational area way before Peter’s time, but there wasn’t any maintenance to it over the years. Now the bags are old, terribly lumpy and are speckled with suspicious stains, the fabric is thinning and aged. Most people purposefully avoid the old rec area, which is why Peter likes this spot best. It’s his secret hiding space.

He prepares to disassociate for the next forty minutes by getting comfortable on his favorite bean bag and popping his earphones in. 

Next, he retrieves his slightly soggy ham-tomato sandwich from his bag and takes a large bite after unwrapping it. The first burst of tomato hits his tongue at the same time as the music begins. 

Ah, to be alone.

Closing his eyes, he allows his body to sink into the bag and for his thoughts to wander freely.

Of course, because his luck is as poor as he is, his seclusion lasts all of three songs before someone else enters into his space. Well it’s not his space, technically, but it should be. 

When Peter creaks an eye open to see who is intruding he’s surprised to see Thor perched on the bean-chair opposite him. They catch each others stare and smile.

Well, alone time is overrated. 

Maybe his luck isn’t down the drain after all - because this is his opportunity to prove he isn’t a total fumbling loser. He doesn’t know which deity he pleased to be alone in a quiet corner of the library with Thor, but someone up there is clearly looking out for him.

He wants to say something, to strike up a conversation that might make Peter seem cool and only casually interested - something that would make him sound both smart and like, available.

But not too available. 

With little success, Peter wracks his brain for the best opening line but frets because he’s ever been cool or collected a day in his life. And great, now he’s just been sitting there smiling for like two whole minutes like an absolute weirdo. Come on, Parker, say something! 

Thor acts well before Peter has the chance to say anything, pointing at him, his mouth moving with words Peter can’t hear. 

Realising a moment too late that his earphones are still playing music from his phone, Peter hurries to tug them out if his ears, smacking himself in the face in the .

“Sorry, I was --” Peter gestures to his ears, hands shaking, cheeks going hot. God, Thor is talking to him. Him! Peter Parker! “Sorry. What did you say?”

“I said I like your shirt!” Thor replies, way more loudly than what would normally be socially acceptable for a library, but Peter does not care. Thor likes his shirt.

“This?” He asks, gesturing downwards to his shirt where crumbs are dusted at the collar. “You like Nirvana?”

“I do not know Nirvana,” Thor smiles, “but it looks very cool. Peter, right?”

“Uh yeah,” he nods, face positively flaming because again, he knows Peter’s name. Quickly sweeping the crumbs from his shirt, he extends his hand out to the older boy who shakes his hand. Holy shit. Be cool. “I’m Parker -- I mean, Peter. Yes. Nice to be here. I mean, nice to be speaking. To you.”

Even as Peter’s arm is roughly jostled with Thor’s exuberant hand-shaking embarrassment crawls up his neck, and he wants to disintegrate into the bean bag where no one has to witness his persistent, glaring awkwardness. Palms sweating, Peter has to bite his lip to stop himself from commenting on how big Thor’s hands are.

Stop it, he scolds himself, be normal, play it cool.

“Thor, right?” Peter asks, as if he didn’t doodle their initials together in his notebooks. “You were at training last week.”

“Yes, you fell on your face,” Thor nods, gesturing to the yellowed bruising on his jaw, “I saw.”

“Oh, okay, so you saw that! Uhh -- ” Peter waves a hand at his face, laughing nervously. “This? It’s nothing. I’m totally fine.”

“You are clumsy,” Thor states, not unkindly.

“Well, no -- I mean, yes --” Peter tries to come up with an explanation, but falls short. “I’m not always a klutz, promise. Just sometimes.”

“Happens to the best of us. Well, not myself, but you know, generally speaking. In any case, I’m happy to see you’re okay.” 

Thor unzips his backpack then and from within it retrieves a truly gargantuan protein shake, followed by a sub wrapped in foil so large it could be the same size as Peter’s forearm. Sneaking a look down at the remainder of his own lunch, his pickings look pretty slim in comparison. 

“Sorry,” Thor says. “Just peckish for a snack.”

Peter watches, dazed, as the older boy consumes half his sub in a single bite, washing it down with several mouthfuls of his shake.

A snack.

“You’re fine. Anyway, football isn’t really my forte,” he admits after a moment, drawing his knees up. “I mean, I’m okay at it and I like it, but it’s not really what I’m best at, y’know?”

The blond boy nods, “I’m on the varsity team,” he proclaims, wiping his mouth. “Whatever that means.”

His accent is so thick it takes Peter half a moment to figure out what it was that he said. 

He’s not sure if Thor is being serious or not but the one question Peter has is why is he so fucking cute? 

A silence follows, albeit not an awkward one. It gives Peter the opportunity to inspect the older boy, nearly a man at his height and stature, of course helped along by the generous distribution of facial hair across his lower face. 

“Uh, did you play football back at home?” Peter asks, keen to keep conversation going. “Soccer?”

“Oh yes,” the boy nods. “Soccer, tennis, volleyball. Water polo. Badminton.”

“Wow,” Peter blinks, “that’s a lot of sport. You’re like the whole Olympics here.”

He’s awarded with a lazy grin for that comment. Thor, to his credit, doesn’t appear to be boastful about his physicality, seemingly a result of his passions instead of a product of vanity.

“Close enough, I suppose. What else do you play, besides football?”

“Uhh --”

Oh god. How is he supposed to respond to that when the idea of doing additional sports outside of football is abhorrent? He can’t tell Thor that. Surely he can fake a common interest. Think of something, Parker, think, think.

The first bell rings, saving him from having to provide a potentially humiliating answer, seeing as all how all that could think of was chess, or PC. Both of which are true and accurate, but not exactly something he thinks that would make him appear more attractive or endearing.

Thank god for fifth period.

“To be continued?” Peter asks as he picks up his backpack, just a little hopeful.

There’s an awkward bit of shuffling as they rush to get off the sagging bean chairs, moment filled with odd squeaks of polystyrene as they attempt to stand.

Thor nods and to Peter’s surprise, doesn’t immediately rush to get away from him. There’s an awkward bit of shuffling as they rush to get off the sagging bean chairs with, odd squeaks of polystyrene as they stand. Instead, he accompanies Peter all the way out of the library, walking alongside him into the main hallway where a flurry of students are intersecting to get to their next class, walking alongside him.

Heads turn to watch them as they depart the library and enter the halls. For a moment, as kids part like the red sea to make way for them - for Thor - Peter wonders if this is what it’s like to be famous. Or to be on the arm of someone famous. It certainly feels like it, because even though the revere isn’t for Peter specifically, it seems like the weight of everyone’s awe is on them.

He doesn’t like the attention. But he likes Thor.

To his delight, the older boy follows him to his locker. Embarrassingly, it sticks when Peter tries to open it, as it usually does. He struggles with it for long, humiliating moments before Thor opens it with one hand.

“Thanks,” he says, blush creeping back up his neck. “You’re like, crazy strong, dude.”

Thor flexes and inspects his own bicep, as if seeing it for the first time.

“Perhaps,” he concedes, smiling roguishly. “Back at home I used to lift my brother for weight training.”

“You what?”

“A story for another time,” Thor shakes his head, shuffling closer to be heard over the traffic of students. “Anyway, I should be going. But there was something I have been meaning to ask you, if I may take a moment --”

Peter freezes. Oh my god, this is it, he thinks. 

It’s happening.

“-- seeing as you and I have similar interests and we seem compatible, it would please me greatly if you would agree to --”

Heart racing, Peter turns, a fervent yes already on his lips.

It dies when there is a loud call of his name in the hall.

“-- Hey, Parker!”

Whatever Thor was going to say wilts at the interruption, seemingly forgotten as he waves at the intruder. Peter turns to see who called out for him and instantly wishes he didn’t.

Heart dropping to his stomach, he squeezes his eyes shut and sighs. 

This is his luck.

Never has he wanted to melt into the floor and die like he does right now as Stark approaches the pair in quick strides.

Hands shoved into his jean pockets, Stark’s wide eyes dart between them inquisitively, a shadow of a smirk crossing his face, disappearing just as quick.

“Well, pardon me. I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” Tony places a hand on his heart and leans on the locker next to Peters. “Thor, barely a pleasure as always.”

“Stark,” Thor nods.

Tony simpers, smile saccharine sweet and gestures to an uneasy Peter.

“I am just so sorry to intrude, but would you mind if I spoke to my husband here? He’s such a slippery one, aren’t you, sweetums?”

Thor looks between them, head going to and fro like a pendulum.

“He’s not my husband,” Peter rushes to assure, acutely pincered between Thor’s confusion and Tony’s mischief. “I mean he is, but it’s for an assignment. We’re not really -- it’s not real. I don’t like him.”

Tony exhales heavily, looking at Thor with dismay. “That’s not what he said in our wedding vows.”

Peter wants to punch him in the throat.

“I understand,” Thor smiles, patting each of them on the shoulder. He dips his chin and catches Peter’s eye. “To be continued?”

“Y-Yeah,” Peter nods enthusiastically, probably too enthusiastically, he thinks, as his aim is to pretend to be cool and disinterested, but he doesn’t even care because maybe not all is lost after all. “To be continued. See you.”

All of the pomp bleeds away from Tony as Thor walks away, his posture turning into a slump against the locker.

The smile drops from Peter’s face. He sends Tony a heated glare as he retrieves from his books, shoving them into his bag.

“What do you want?” he grumbles, slamming his locker shut. “You have the worst timing, you know that?”

“It’s part of my charm,” the other boy shrugs. “What can I say, I’m delightful.”

“You’re deplorable.”

Tony gasps in mock offence. “Deplorable? Good lord, Parker, is that any way to speak to your husband?”

“If the shoe fits,” he says, crossing his arms over his chest. “Look, I have to go to class. Say what you want or move out of the way.”

Tony rolls his eyes. “Oh, don’t be like that. C’mon, what were you and He-Man grunting about, hmm? Grr, me big, you tiny?”

“Unless you have a point,” Peter asks, pointing to the main hall, “I’m leaving.”

Tony puts his hands up in surrender, however the glib expression doesn’t quite leave his face. But at that moment Peter doesn’t have it within him to care, he’s not here to entertain him and sooner they get this over with, the better.

“Alright, alright, buzzkill. Come outside, I have to talk to you about the assignment.”

Peter looks at him, perturbed. 

“I need a smoke,” he explains, tutting at Peter dispiritedly. “Also, don’t lie, I know it’s your free period.”

He doesn’t wait for Peter to respond, heading straight for the double doors that lead to the courtyard at a sedate enough pace for Peter to follow. Nonetheless he jogs a few paces to catch up after debating whether or not it was a good idea to follow or if he should hide in the boys bathroom.

Again.

It’s fairly chilly out, the wind whipping through his clothes. He wishes he had a scarf or gloves or something, opting to shove his hands into the pocket of his hoodie and hooking the hood over his head.

“How do you know it’s my free period?” he queries loud enough to be heard over the wind. 

“Because,” Tony turns to walk backwards, the breeze whistling around them, “it’s also my free period and you always stink up the library so I can’t go there,” he rounds the corner to lead Peter to the shaded area behind the auditorium where a few students are lingering, most of them smoking. 

“And you take the best seat. Personally, I think it’s selfish. I can’t possibly sit there after your ass has warmed it.”

Willing himself to not rise to Tony’s level of pettiness, he crosses his arms over his chest as they come to a stop. The wind is at full force now that the surrounding buildings aren’t taking the brunt of it and it is cold as all hell, although Tony’s in a black t-shirt and doesn’t look affected at all, probably because he’s cold-blooded or warmed by hellfire.

Tony cups his hands over his lighter to protect the flame from the breeze, struggling briefly to light his cigarette. Once the end is properly alight, Tony takes a drag while staring at him. 

His hand comes to rest at his thigh, smoke rising idly from the cigarette. After a moment, he exhales the smoke in Peters direction.

“Wow. You’re disgusting,” he waves his hand in front of his face to dispel the smell. “Don’t you know second-hand smoke can kill?”

"Yes. Do you want a drag to speed up the process?”

“Don’t be a dick,” he says as Tony seems to find himself funny, offering up the cigarette in jest. Peter has half a mind to snatch it out of his hands and stomp on it. “I know that’s hard for you.”

“I’m joking, okay. I thought the wind would redirect the smoke. My bad.”

Peter rolls his eyes. “Yeah, I’m sure. Anyway, the assignment? Still waiting for whatever was so urgent."

Tony takes another drag, flicking ash to the ground before answering.

“I booked an appointment with a realtor for tomorrow after school.”

That has Peter’s curiosity piqued. “Really? Where?”

“LIC. One of the agents has agreed to be a reference so our domestic nightmare can be officially documented. Yay, go team.”

“Yay,” Peter deadpans. “What time?”

“Appointment’s at four-thirty,” Tony retrieves his phone from his pocket and hands it to Peter. “Give me your number and I’ll send you the details.”

Peter accepts it with a grimace. It’s warm from Tony’s body heat. Ugh.

“And now you can say: ‘thank you for being proactive, Tony, you’re so much better than me, Tony’.”

“Thank you for being proactive, Anthony, even if you’re a self-aggrandizing jerk,” Peter mutters, voice getting progressively more sarcastic. 

A wide smile blooms on Tony’s face, clearly pleased with himself. 

“You’re welcome, Parker.”

He is going to let that one go, Peter decides, feeling magnanimous on spite of the circumstances. He’d never admit it, but he’s kinda surprised by Tony’s apparent initiative, and even genuinely a little grateful that the other boy has arranged this so quickly. Or even that he thought to arrange it at all - field research was one of the highest scoring components on the rubric for this assignment.

Eyes flicking up for a moment, he assesses the other boy. Maybe he’s not as much of a slacker as Peter thought he was.

Tony, slumped against the brick wall, rubs his stomach and burps quietly. 

Or maybe he is.

Nevertheless, Peter types in his details and saves his contact in Tony’s phone as Your Better Half. 

Peter isn’t too much to look at, he knows, but he’s not the weak link here.

Tony accepts the phone back and wipes the touch screen on his shirt before pocketing it. 

“Alright then, meet me after school tomorrow in the parking lot. Don’t be late,” he flicks his cigarette to the ground and steps on it to put it out. Tony bends at the waist then to pick up the stub, clutching it in his fist for later disposal instead of leaving it as litter.

That surprises Peter a little, it’s more thoughtful, conscious a gesture than he would have expected to come from Stark. Not that he’s ever personally seen such behaviour from him, but it wouldn’t be a stretch with his devil-may-care attitude. Would it?

He’s about to make mention of heading back inside when Stark takes two purposeful steps towards Peter, bridging the gap between them. 

Peter freezes on the spot, breath caught in his chest as Tony brings them nose-to-nose.

He flicks his eyes down at Tony’s lips when his solemn expression morphs into an impish smile.

“Dude, what -- ?”

While Peter is distracted, Tony’s hands dart out to grip the strings of Peter’s hoodie, tugging them until the hood shrinks around his face.

“Do me a solid and try to wear something that doesn’t make you look like you’re a step away from lining up at a soup kitchen, okay? Y’know, something nice.”

Peter smacks his hands away furiously, letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding as Tony backs away, snickering.

“You really get off on being a prized piece of shit, don’t you?” he mutters, somewhat self conscious as he tries to correct the hood. “Poor jokes, that’s real nice. Sorry not all of us were born wearing Balenciaga.”

He continues to struggle with it as they move away and head back towards the main building, pushing it off his head altogether. 

“Calm down, Charlie Brown, it’s not that deep,” Tony says drily, although his flippant demeanour softens significantly. “I have no doubt that you’d still manage to look like a hobo even if you were loaded, okay. You just have that grubby vibe.” Tony claps his hands together. “So, tomorrow. Meet me in the parking lot. Yes?”

Inside, away from the wind, Peter is still helpless to quell the hurricane that is Tony Stark. He gives him a tired thumbs up.

With that Tony sets off in the opposite direction, leaving Peter to wonder what the hell just happened, and what his life has become these last few days. 

“What a jackass,” he says to himself.

Now alone, he rubs his hands up and down his face, fruitlessly attempting to scrub away the memory of Tony close to him, eyes warm with mirth, the heat of his body up close and the smell of nicotine on his breath as he quite literally tugged Peter’s strings. It takes longer than he likes to will the image away and to calm the furious beat of his heart.

Furious; a feeling Peter is becoming progressively more familiar - and uncomfortable with.

Ben used to say that being angry at someone was allowing them to take up space in your head, rent free. He was right, because it never served Peter well to house animosity when acceptance was kinder to his soul and psyche, and to others -- but he can’t help it with this guy. Tony Stark is like an ear worm of the brain. He has this completely obnoxious way of making himself front and centre despite Peter’s best efforts to cast him to the sidelines.

While he’s willing himself to move on his phone vibrates inside his pocket with a new message.

> ur not my better half, loser > why r u like this > nvm i already know lol. > remember, don’t be late 2morrow

Peter, just a little satisfied with himself for getting under Tony’s skin, saves his contact as Tiny Stank and types back quickly, eager to get back to his seat in the library - assuming Stark hasn’t already occupied it - and make the best of his remaining free period.

<  whatever helps u sleep at night < also, plz lose my number after this is over

> way ahead of u, princess > say hi to aunt may for me

Ugh, Peter cringes, pocketing his phone without replying.

That guy is the worst.

---

*

*

---

tagging: @bylerboyfriends, @ravens-starker-stuff, @starker-rays, @ironspiderstarker, @muse-of-gods, @notfor-temporaryuse, @tabbycat1220, @sugarfreecult, @rebel13lion39, @plueschpop, @spideravocados, @jellybbunny,  @booktrashme, @elfkido, @mycatislickingmybedsheets, @queerghostboyo, @disneyprincessdominatrix

[panharmonium]

@dreamersscape​ please forgive me for tagging you in a post to respond to your comments; tumblr’s reply feature is hard to have an extended/coherent conversation on, and I’m so excited to talk to a kindred Naruto spirit that I knew I was gonna write too much for it all to fit in that space XD

re: hinata - Oh my gosh, YES, my sister and I were so frustrated by how they just completely never addressed that moment again.  I wasn't surprised, because it's been clear from the beginning that this show doesn't really care much about women, so the female characters' storylines getting dropped or never explored in the first place is pretty much what I've always expected, but it's still infuriating.  

Honestly, the only good thing about this show's general disinterest in women is that it means that I don't place any blame on in-story Naruto for never addressing what Hinata did for him, because I know the fact that we don't see him dealing with her confession isn't actually intended to communicate anything about his reaction/non-reaction/level of investment; it's literally just a function of the fact that the writer doesn't care about her story.  It's the same way I feel about how we see so much less one-on-one time between Kakashi and Sakura - her lack of screentime with him isn't something about which a person can credibly argue "Oh, this means Kakashi doesn't care about her enough and he's a bad teacher etc etc," because the imbalance isn’t a deliberate writing decision we're supposed to analyze for characterization.  It's a reflection of the fact that the entire show is super sexist. XD

re: danzo: It’s one thing to have your villain believe himself to the hero of his own story, and like, another to have Danzo basically tout having darkness in your heart being a great thing and encouraging it’s presence/cultivating it - lmao YES!  And honestly, this is why I actually find Danzo LESS infuriating than the Third Hokage.  Like, Danzo is Super Evil and every time he exploits another child I want to watch him die all over again, but at least he like....owns his horribleness?  Whereas Hiruzen is the biggest hypocrite on the planet - when I rewatched the Shonen Jump stuff a while back (my sister and I took a little break prior to Season 11 and rewatched some old stuff), I couldn't stand listening to Hiruzen go on and on about how the entire Leaf Village is his family and it's his role to protect all of them etc etc, because like - he literally covered up the genocide of Sasuke's entire family and let the perpetrator remain in power (and that was before I even knew about all these other crimes he allowed to go unpunished!!!)  Danzo may be the Worst, but at least he's not pretending to be anything other than what he is.  Hiruzen is still acting like he's everybody's sweet old grandpa, and that makes me even more angry than Danzo's straight-up horribleness.  (And I do agree with you, they definitely lean harder into the "Lord Third is amazing" stuff pre-Shippuden, I just still feel confused about what the show is ultimately trying to say about him because we haven't gotten an explicit enough condemnation of his choices yet, and I feel like it's way overdue XD )

re: minato - Hard agree that Minato is an enigma.  I don't feel like I fully understand him either - and not in a bad way, just in the sense that he's hard to read.  The toughest thing for me to parse was always how distant he seemed with his students, which was surprising to me at first, because he'd been built up as sort of this "ideal shinobi" figure for such a long time, but to me, an ideal shinobi teacher looks more like...well, Kakashi, to be honest.  And it took a while for me to reconcile with the fact that Minato and Kakashi really do just relate to their students very differently.  I think Minato has always been a soldier, and I think he sees children as soldiers, too - not in an evil way at all, just in the sense that this is how the shinobi world works, and how it has always worked.  It's not a "wrong" way to perceive shinobi kids, in the context of the story's universe.  And so when things happen to those kids, he absolutely cares, but it's also sort of just a grim fact of life for him.  It's like when Kushina tells him she doesn't want to make Naruto a jinchuriki, and she asks 'why do we have to do that to him, why does he have to suffer that way for the sake of the balance of power between nations,' and Minato's response is “Because our family is Shinobi.”  That was a really telling moment for me in terms of how he sees the world.  It's not something I'm interested in condemning him for, like you said; I don't think the story is ever asking us to do that, it’s just a philosophy that's very different from how Kakashi sees things and what he thinks children's experiences should be like.  

I guess what I ultimately think (from the material we’ve seen so far, at least) is that Minato seems to perceive the loss of his students as something that Kakashi is struggling with, not something he himself is agonizing over.  It’s a very sad thing that happened, of course, but it’s just part of the way their world works/a function of the times they live in.  It's not something Minato is tormenting himself about.  Whereas I think that if Kakashi ever lost a kid, it would have killed him.  And I don't think this fact is in any way supposed to paint Minato as a bad person.  He's not!  All it means is that there is a generational difference between the world Kakashi and Co. are trying to create and the world Minato always knew, and people like Minato are doing the best they can with the framework they have.  

I do like the guy a lot - and I wonder what he might have been like if he had lived to see a permanent peace established.

re: little Yamato - oh boy, those episodes nearly ended me.  I am already very, very, VERY weak for Kakashi and Yamato’s friendship, and seeing Kakashi rescue Yamato from that horrible place (literally and metaphorically) was too much for me to handle.  Kakashi’s silhouette replacing Danzo in Yamato’s memories of being rescued from Orochimaru’s lab - that slew me.  And the way Danzo tells Yamato “you have no past, no future, no name” juxtaposed with Kakashi introducing Yamato as Tenzo because he remembers from three years ago how Yamato once rebelled at being called Kinoe and yelled “MY NAME IS TENZO” - Kakashi just using that chosen name without hesitation, without question, without needing to be told...it all ties back into the recent thematic throughline the show is working with about Identity - the importance of the Tailed Beasts having names, Kabuto’s desperate and misguided search for “who and what he is,” Itachi reclaiming his true self by undoing the reanimation justu and declaring “I am Itachi Uchiha of the Leaf Village,” Obito claiming that his real name doesn’t matter anymore, that he’s Nobody...it’s fantastic how they’re pulling all this together.

re: Kakashi and little Naruto - oh man, the feelings.  I agree with you that Kakashi was in no place to be dealing with this, but certainly under different circumstances I think he would have loved to be a part of baby Naruto’s life.  I actually think the reasoning behind “let’s put Kakashi in a situation where he’s in close contact with someone bringing new life into the world” is sound - I think that would be a really good thing for him!  Just not in the sense of “you’re Kushina’s personal bodyguard, so if anything happens to her and the baby you can blame yourself for it.” XD  Like...Minato could have invited Kakashi in for dinner sometimes, instead of having him constantly stand guard under their window???  If it had been more “we care about you and we want you to be a part of our family”....ugh, that would have been amazing.  Kakashi is already SO good with Naruto (who is NOT by any means an easy kid to manage) - he just has such good instincts about how to talk to that kid and teach him in ways that work WITH Naruto’s particular brand of high motivation/low frustration tolerance, ping-pong emotional extremes, explosive energy levels, zero impulse control, and an inability to process more than one thing at a time.  Handling Naruto effectively would be a challenging project for any teacher, never mind taking care of Naruto and two other kids, but Kakashi is a natural at it.  It would have been awesome to see what Kakashi was like with Naruto when they were even younger...though the Feels might knocked me out.

[also, you mentioned Naruto and Obito - I cannot even tell you the Extremest Agonies I was in when the big reveal happened and I had to hear Naruto blankly go “who is he” - utterly clueless, without the faintest idea that he’s looking at the person who shaped his entire moral philosophy.  The amount of things that these kids don’t know...that fact that Naruto has been quoting this very person all his life and making all his major life decisions based on the lesson Kakashi relayed to them on Day One - Obito’s words - oh boy oh boy I was not capable of handling that even the littlest bit.]

[calligraphist-artemisia]

Scattered Blue (Part 1)

Written for the Kidge Spring Event!

Prompt 3: Forget-me-nots | True Love, Memories, Remembrance 

Summary: Alternate Universe. From the moment the first blue petal passed her lips, Pidge knew what was happening to her.

Also posted on AO3 under the username Kishirokitsune

❀ - ❀ - ❀ - ❀ - ❀

Part One: Pidge

The small blue petal haunted her from the time she woke up to the time she laid her head down to go back to sleep. There was a part of her that desperately wanted to ignore it and what it meant, hoping it would go away if she just wished hard enough for it.

But as with all things in life, wishing did nothing without her also taking action.

Pidge covered her mouth as she coughed hard, feeling something slide up through her throat until it splattered out into her hand. She caught a glimpse of blue as she shoved that hand into her pocket to hide the evidence.

“Is everything okay?” Hunk asked in concern. He and Lance sat across from her at the cafe table they'd snagged for their weekly lunch.

“Everything's great!” she lied with a smile. “How was your flight, Lance? You transported some heavy cargo to the east coast base, right?”

Lance shrugged. “It was just a normal, boring flight. No issues.”

“Which is a good thing,” Hunk said, his tone long-suffering.

Lance agreed with a grumble that spoke strongly of his true feelings. He'd always dreamed of being more than a “simple” cargo pilot, no matter how often Pidge and Hunk tried to remind him that he was the backbone of the Garrison and served a pivotal role in keeping everything running smoothly.

“What about you?” Hunk asked Pidge. “You and Keith have been testing the new jets. That must be fun.”

Pidge's heart fluttered at the mention of Keith's name and she swallowed to try and stop the cough that threatened to overtake her. “Um, y-yeah. Yeah, it's been a ton of fun.”

Hunk and Lance exchanged alarmed looks at her unusually lackluster response and Pidge wanted to swear, but instead, she reached for her water and took several swallows until her throat was clear.

“Keith giving you problems? I could kick his butt for you,” Lance volunteered.

“We're fine, so please don't get yourself suspended trying to fight him,” Pidge said with a roll of her eyes. She set down her drink. “Our test flight went great! We're just waiting for the technical report to come back before we can go up again and there were a few minor tweaks the ground crew wanted to make to improve how responsive the controls are. Shiro's been coaching us through new drills while we wait.”

“Ugh, you're so lucky. You get Shiro as a mentor and you get to test fly the new jets. Can we trade lives for one day?” Lance asked.

“That means you'd have to work with Keith,” Pidge reminded him.

“Good point. I'd much rather trade with Keith and have you as my partner,” Lance said, sitting back in his chair as the waitress arrived with their meals.

Pidge rolled her eyes as he went about his usual routine of flirting with their waitress. She briefly considered apologizing on his behalf but figured it would only encourage him to keep going. At least he wasn't making a complete fool of himself and thus, by extension, of her and Hunk as well.

They didn't do much talking as they enjoyed their food and it was only as they got down to the last few bites and were contemplating dessert that Pidge asked Hunk how he was doing in the engineering department. His eyes lit up as he began describing their experiments with a new lightspeed engine that they hoped would be capable of drastically reducing the amount of time it took to get to the farthest planets in their solar system.

“Pretty soon you and Keith will be preparing to fly one of these! Well, uh, if everything goes the way we hope,” Hunk said, rapidly backpedaling in an attempt to curb his own enthusiasm.

“That sounds incredible, Hunk! You'll have to keep me updated,” Pidge said.

Hunk grinned back at her. “I will.”

In the end, they decided against ordering dessert at the cafe and instead walked a few blocks down to Lance's favorite gelato place where they each got a scoop in a little paper cup so they could walk and eat at the same time.

Every now and then, Pidge had to turn away and cough, though thankfully she didn't end up with any fresh petals. For the rest of the night, she didn't find a single speck of blue when she pulled her hand away and she went to bed with a smile on her face and no worry lingering in her mind.

She danced around her room with a spring in her step when morning came, taking a little extra time on her hair and putting a little bit of color on her eyelids, which she normally saved for special occasions. By some miracle, she didn't drip any of her breakfast onto her uniform and was able to leave the house soon after by catching a ride with her brother, who was also on his way to the Galaxy Garrison.

They split up after he parked in the Garrison's garage, with Matt heading over to the labs where they were analyzing new plugs taken from Saturn's moon, Enceladus, while Pidge went to the gym to meet up with her flight partner and get started on their training for the day.

Keith was already there warming up when she arrived. His black hair was tied back out of his face and he had swapped out of the heavy uniform in favor of a pair of gray shorts and a black tank top.

Pidge caught his attention with a wave before gesturing towards the locker room, silently indicating that she was going to get changed and would be out soon. Once she was dressed in her own gray shorts and Garrison-provided orange shirt she jogged out to Keith, dodging around the others who were taking advantage of the open gym.

“Hey, did you get the itinerary Shiro sent?” Keith asked the moment she was close enough to be heard.

Pidge had to take a moment to think about it. She's woken up to two messages from Shiro that morning – one was a note regarding a slight change in their schedule and the other was a list of what they'd be covering that week. She assumed he was talking about the week-long one. “I glanced it over. It looks like it's mostly what we do every week.”

“Yeah, except for Friday. Do you think I can convince Shiro to give me a pass to skip out on the annual health screening after what they pulled last year?” Keith asked.

“Doubt it, though I bet he'd go with you if you're really worried about it,” Pidge said as dread began to creep in her chest.

At their last screening, the nurse helping Keith found something “odd” in his blood and ordered him into quarantine for two weeks while they tried to puzzle it out. The Garrison medical team ran test after test, asking Keith all kinds of invasive questions, until Shiro, with the help of Commander Iverson, put an end to it all. Keith was let go, but he then had to suffer through several months of resurgent rumors about his parentage and whether or not his abilities were because he wasn't fully human.

Keith was anti-social and a little awkward, which when coupled with his innate sense of how to pilot and the fact that he out-flew even seasoned pilots on the simulator on his first try, led to a number of rumors that one of his parents weren't human or even that Keith himself was born somewhere far beyond their solar system. It was all nonsense, of course.

Pidge had her own reasons for being worried about the screening. She knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that they would find out about her affliction.

Hanahaki.

Just putting a name to it made it feel all the more real and terrifying.

“Hey,” Keith said, nudging her gently. “It'll be alright. I'm really not worried about anything happening again this year. They wouldn't dare.”

Pidge did her best to smile and try to reassure him that she'd also be there to stop them if they tried anything, but the weight of what was happening to her dragged her down, threatening to drown her if she didn't wrestle back control of her emotions. Her breath stuttered in her chest, a cough building even as she cleared her throat to try and chase it off. Her eyes watered.

“Pidge?” Keith's tone turned concerned and he placed one hand on her back to keep her steady.

She couldn't hold it back any longer.

Once her coughing started, it was nearly impossible to stop as something thick and slightly scratched traveled up through her throat, threatening to block her breathing, until it finally began to slide out. Pidge gagged and coughed even harder, forcing a long stem and the accompanying blooms out of her mouth and into her hands.

All she could hear was the sound of her own heartbeat. Dark spots danced across her vision and she swayed, nominally aware of Keith holding her up. Pidge closed her eyes.

❀ - ❀ - ❀ - ❀ - ❀

She woke in the medical wing.

Or at least, she thought that was where she was at first glance, but closer inspection of the wall next to her and the lack of orange décor told her that she was most likely at the Plaht City Memorial Hospital. Pidge stared at the wall for a moment and then slowly, stiffly turned her head to look around the room, which was when she realized Keith was sitting at her bedside and staring at her with a worried expression on his face.

“Wh... what happened?” Pidge groggily asked.

“You passed out,” Keith told her. “Pidge, why didn't you say anything sooner?”

She looked away from him. “Didn't want to. S'fine, Keith. I can handle it.”

“You can handle it? Pidge, this isn't going to go away on its own!” Keith's voice raised to a near shout. He blanched and ran a hand through his hair, clearly struggling to calm down. “You... Will you at least tell me who it is? I could go get them and... and then everything would be fine, right? Unless... you've already told them?”

Pidge swallowed thickly and glanced to the bedside table, hoping to see a glass of water there, but there was nothing. “It doesn't matter.”

“Of course it matters!”

“They don't feel the same way,” Pidge said, refusing to meet his eyes. “I don't need to ask them in order to know that.”

Keith growled in frustration and stood up. “I don't buy that for a second! Who wouldn't like you?”

“Keith...”

“Just tell me who it is and I'll go talk to them,” he said fiercely. “Or I'll bring them here, whichever works best for you. Please, Pidge, I just want to help. You're my best friend.”

Her chest clenched painfully at those words and Pidge wondered for a moment if she were about to be launched into another coughing fit, but after a moment or two, the pain subsided to mere discomfort, which allowed her to speak again.

Not that she really wanted to speak, since that meant revealing the truth: she was in love with him.

That was the cause of the Hanahaki Disease. Flowers would take root in the lungs, growing until there was no place left for them to go. The body naturally tried to rid itself of the invasion by coughing them up but there was only so long that could keep the disease at bay before it became too much for the body to handle. Sometimes, the person afflicted could “cure” themselves by falling out of love before the disease progressed too far. Otherwise, there were three ways it could end: in the death of the infected, by surgical removal, or by having their love reciprocated.

The last of those was the best-case scenario – the one that was often used in the plots of movies or cheesy romance novels. Having one's love returned would effectively shrink the flowers until they were gone completely.

Surgery was a more recent option, though one that some still chose to reject even if it meant their death. Choosing to surgically remove the flowers meant also removing any feelings they had for that person and often resulted in the complete loss of memory of them as well. No one could pinpoint why it was like that and all attempts to improve on the surgery fell flat.

Those were the options sitting before Pidge.

She didn't want to die. That much was for certain. There was still so much she wanted to see and do in the world, and though it broke her heart to think of needing to do it all without Keith, her partner, steadfast by her side, she wasn't going to give it all up. Besides, there was still the chance that she wouldn't forget about him. She was too stubborn for that. And if she could remember, maybe they could rebuild their friendship as well.

But what if she didn't remember?

Pidge slowly met his eyes.

He was her best friend too; the first person her own age that she'd ever truly gotten along with and felt comfortable around. Life without him wouldn't be nearly as vibrant. She couldn't lose him.

“Don't leave me,” she begged, her chest constricting as she forced the words out. She tried to sit up, her arms trembling from the effort, but gave up as Keith moved to help her. She shook her head and blinked back tears as she caught a whiff of his cologne, which usually inspired warm and fuzzy feelings, but instead dredged up an intense need to cough.

She swallowed, trying to force it away. She needed to talk first.

“Of course I'm not going to leave,” Keith tried to reassure her.

Pidge shook her head. “If... If I forget you, please don't leave me.”

Keith made a confused sound. “Why would you forget...?”

She could hear the exact moment he put the pieces together. The way his voice cracked was a dead giveaway just before his expression crumbled in distress. She reached out and grasped his hand. “It's okay, Keith. I know.”

He sucked in a shuddering breath. “It's not okay! Pidge, I-”

“You're not allowed to blame yourself,” she cut in. “This isn't your fault. You can't help who you like. Or who you don't like.”

While it wasn't something they'd exclusively talked about, she'd gotten the gist from past conversations that he wasn't someone interested in any kind of romance. He preferred focusing on his career and studies, which was something they'd always had in common right up until she went and fell for him.

She had to look away from him for a moment. “It's just... you're my best friend too and I don't want to forget that, but if I do then I need you to be there and make sure we stick together. I know that's a lot to ask.”

“No, it isn't,” Keith heatedly denied. “Of course I'll stay with you.”

Though Pidge mostly felt relieved by his agreeing to stay with her, there was still that sliver of worry that things could go wrong for them. But what choice did they really have?

She was saved from needing to talk about it more by the arrival of Shiro and her family, who crowded around her bed to ask if she was alright and if there was anything they could do to help. Matt seemed particularly stricken that he hadn't noticed anything wrong when he spent the most time with her, though her mom was a close second.

Once he was sure Pidge would be okay, her dad took charge of the situation and arranged for her surgery to take place that evening by calling on a few favors and using his influence as a Commander at the Galaxy Garrison. It took a little more convincing on Pidge's part, as well as some hefty backup from Shiro, to make an allowance for Keith to stay with her outside of surgery. It all happened so fast that she didn't have time to think about everything else she wanted to say to Keith, just in case she wouldn't get the chance later.

Her family stayed until the last few minutes until Shiro was able to direct them out into the waiting room so she and Keith could have one last moment alone.

And it was in those last few minutes that genuine fear struck Pidge.

She didn't want to forget him.

She didn't want to lose his friendship.

Heavy tears flooded her eyes, dripping down her cheeks without her fully realizing it. She choked back a sob as she looked at Keith. “I-I-...”

She couldn't get the words out.

Keith didn't need her to say anything. He got up so he could sit on the edge of her bed instead, cradling her against him and offering physical comfort. He refused to budge as the anesthesiologist entered and began prepping her arm for the IV which would administer the anesthetic directly into her bloodstream.

“Count backward from one-hundred, dear.”

Pidge tried, but she was still too choked up to speak and had to settle for mouthing it instead. Rather quickly, Keith's soft reassurances faded and she dropped off to sleep.

❀ - ❀ - ❀ - ❀ - ❀

There was an annoying beeping sound that cut through her dreams, dragging Pidge back into the realm of consciousness. It was a strange, rhythmic sound – wholly different from the obnoxious screeching of her alarm clock. She groaned as she opened her eyes and had to squint against the sudden, harsh light that reflected off of crisp white sheets and plain white walls. The only spot of color near her was a single stem of purplish flowers that was placed in a water glass on the bedside table.

“Pidge?” an unfamiliar voice called her name, relief present in their tone.

Her head felt heavy as she turned it to face whoever was speaking to her. She figured it was a nurse or something – she had to be in a hospital of some kind – but instead, she found a young man with dark hair sitting in a chair at her bedside.

“You're awake!” he said, a smile blossoming across his face. “How do you feel?”

“M'okay,” she said thickly. She stared at him for a moment and watched as his smile faded. “Sorry, but who are you?”

He reeled back as though he'd been slapped, his expression dropping into something close to pure anguish. “I...” He paused and took a deep breath. “I'm Keith.”

[waveypedia]

“I’m in love…shit” the quintessential gyro

Gyro never meant to get attached to Fenton.

If he had known the bumbling, awkward, cheerful coworker would carve out a little nook for himself in Gyro’s heart, Gyro would have fought his superiors twice as hard on hiring an intern.

He had already given every excuse he had, but Scrooge was worried for him alone in the lab day after day, and the Board was tired of shoving precious funding at doomed inventions that blew up in their faces.

(Gyro was tired too.)

But somehow Gyro’s sheer force of will wasn’t enough, and he ended up saddled with the literal ball of sunshine and energy that was Fenton Crackshell-Cabrera. The duck essentially transformed into a mini hurricane in his precious lab, wreaking havoc and wrecking Gyro’s concentration. He never seemed to tire, both physically and emotionally, no matter how much meaningless work and hurtful insults Gyro threw at him.

Gyro never remembered dancing on Dr. Akita’s heels and shoving his thousand inane ideas in his mentor’s face. Yet Fenton greeted Gyro every morning with his too-bright grin and a plethora of new ideas. He followed Gyro around the lab like an unwanted puppy, asking a million questions a minute, forcing Gyro to multitask and make mistakes on his precious inventions. He also seemed to have a special knack for popping up in Gyro’s personal space right as Gyro was about to finish an important and tenuous process, startling him and, more often than not, making him mess up and have to start over.

Gyro did not regret making the bathroom his workspace, which was rather immature by his standards, but Fenton took it in stride, just like everything else. He didn’t even realize right away! What an idiot.

Although, the personal space and questions may have been the only characteristic of young Gyro that Fenton didn’t adopt. Despite them having zero similar physical characteristics, the younger duck served as a painful window to Gyro’s past self. 

Gyro… didn’t really know how to handle it. He certainly was no Akita; he lacked his old mentor’s eerie calmness and quiet confidence in spades. But Fenton was unmistakably Gyro, but a Gyro lost to time, a Gyro that crashed and burned and died twenty years ago.

Sooner or later, something was going to to go horribly, terribly, miraculously wrong. Something was going to break Fenton’s spirit forever. It would break him, like how 2-BO broke Gyro, and how the Spear of Selene ensured he would never recover.

Fenton was just a disaster waiting to happen, and as Gyro’s intern, Gyro would most likely be there for his failure. The thought of essentially watching a repeat of 2-BO from the outside, watching Fenton’s unshakable friendliness and passion crumble and shatter irreplaceably, terrified him. It was like watching a horror movie with dramatic irony, where the audience knows about the killer but the characters don’t, and the audience just watches them die slowly one by one, with the sickening sensation that something bad is about to happen and there’s nothing they can do to stop it.

Truthfully, there is something he could possibly do. He could talk to Fenton, but the thought of laying all his failures and terrors bare on the table terrified Gyro. For all his scientific genius, he is a disaster in a conversation, and not even Fenton’s inconceivably strong friendliness can save him. He can’t go to Mr. McDuck about it, because his boss would probably tut gently and pat Gyro’s back awkwardly and spout nonsense about rewriting history and we can handle it and good on you, lad, you care about him!

Wait. Since when did Gyro give a shit about Cabrera?

Only because watching Fenton skip and stumble down his old path, knowing only disaster and hardship awaits him at the end, felt like someone cut open old wounds that never really healed.

He didn’t care. No, sir.

And then, the unthinkable happened. 

When Gyro, Fenton, and a few of the McDuck clan ended up in danger, Fenton hotwired Project Blatherskite. It was still under construction and never meant to be used as anything vaguely resembling a superhero, but here they were.

“How could you be so stupid?!” Gyro snapped at Fenton over and over in the aftermath, but he was drowned out by the adrenaline-infused praise of his peers and Beaks’ creepy hero-worship. Scrooge, Dewey, and Launchpad seemed to have somehow developed the idiotic idea that Gizmoduck was prescisely the superhero Duckburg needs, and that Fenton Crackshell-Cabrera was just the duck to wear the suit. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Like all well-written dramatic irony, Gyro saw the picture fall into place before it happens. The Gizmosuit will be Fenton’s downfall the same way 2-BO was Gyro’s. His intern was about to crash and burn, and there was nothing Gyro could do about it since no one seemed to listen to him.

He felt like screaming and screaming until his throat was hoarse and his voice was gone, but it wouldn’t make a difference.

He was only a kooky, crazy scientist with a sharp tongue and a pessimistic, nihilistic worldview in their eyes. 

So he took matters into his own hands and fired Fenton and the first sight of heroic activity.

Really. A robotic suit built by Gyro Gearloose supposedly protecting a city? Yeah, please. Gyro may be an idiot but he’s learned from his mistakes. He knew Gizmoduck would be Fenton’s 2-BO already, thanks universe. He was just trying to minimize the damage. Fenton would have to get hurt whatever happens, but at least maybe the city of Duckburg can remain standing for another day. Unlike Tokyolk.

But the firing blew up in Gyro’s face, and Scrooge, crazy and reckless old man he was, hired Cabrera back. As a fucking superhero.

As soon as Mr. McDuck was out of sight, Gyro slammed his back against the hospital wall outside of Fenton’s room and let his knees give out, sinking into gravity’s embrace on the cold, hard floor. He buried his head in his hands, bunching his fingers into fists under his glasses. Hot tears pricked against his eyelids.

He had failed. Failed to protect Fenton from the casualties of the Gizmosuit. Failed to stop it from happening again, with more fatal results next time, despite his vehement protests.

He was going to watch Fenton’s spirit get crushed, or worse, watch Fenton die, in this stupid suit, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Fenton’s scary mom came around and berated Gyro for firing her son and letting him get into danger. Gyro wasn’t sure if he wanted to laugh or cry. He had been trying to prevent Fenton from getting into danger!!

“Have a heart,” Officer Cabrera had snapped at him. “See if you can find the ability to actually care a little bit about my son.”

That’s why I did what I did, Gyro wanted to scream. And then he froze, because he doesn’t care about Cabrera.

Does he?

Oh fuck, he does.

Gyro would have buried his head in his hands had it not already been there.

Caring only makes it harder.

He cared about Dr. Akita, and 2-BO, and look where that got him. He cared about Della, who was lost to space because of an invention Scrooge trusted him with making. He cared about Lil’ Bulb, which got him stolen by Mark Beaks and twisted into a trashy piece of tech that nearly killed them all.

He still cares about all of them.

As time went on, and Gizmoduck became a household name, no one seemed to catch onto Gyro’s fears. Not even when Fenton nearly died, twice in five minutes, and Gyro had to rebuild the entire suit from scratch instead of letting Gizmoduck die out like a sane person. Not even when Mark Beaks’ insane obsession with Gizmoduck ended with Huey and Webby in danger, Gyro himself locked in a closet and electrocuted (he’d very much like to have a talk with Ms. Dee for that offense) and Fenton’s secret identity in the hands of a very dangerous woman. All so Beaks can feed his stupid ego.

Gyro’s daily nightmares, once filled with images of 2-BO wreaking havoc on Tokyolk and Della vanishing from any and all communications permanently, had a new element to them. Fenton, sometimes in his Gizmosuit, sometimes without, dies and fails and breaks in a million different ways each time. Gyro woke up screaming every night. It never got easier.

He can no longer play at not caring about Fenton.

Then Della came back, crashed a Spear of Selene outfitted with more gold than original parts, but it was a Spear of Selene all the same, and it brought Della, alive and well. The Spear of Selene had doomed her, but Oxy-Chew had saved her. When Della squeezed all life out of him in a tight hug and then punched him in the arm because black licorice, Gyro?!? Seriously?! Gyro didn’t know how to react.

He had always thought his invention killed her, but it turned out to have saved her.

Gyro’s worldview, previously unshakable, was suddenly rocky, cracks winding through the foundations, with this discovery.

Maybe his failures weren’t as black-and-white as they seemed. Maybe he wasn’t an irredeemable monster.

Maybe Fenton won’t fail at all.

It all came to a head one day when Huey brought 2-BO, somehow alive but malfunctioning, into his lab. Gyro shoved down his long-lost, precious memories of 2-BO in Akita’s lab before he- it- destroyed the city it was supposed to protect. They returned to the site of Gyro’s greatest failure, where he broke the way Fenton might will soon, and Gyro’s careful plan falls apart. 

Just like the Spear of Selene, Gyro realized he was wrong. Tokyolk’s destruction was never his fault. It was never his failure or his weight to bear. It was Akita’s, not his or 2-BO’s.

And when he rises from his slapfight with his former mentor to see his invention, riddled with Akita’s corruption, towering over Fenton, helmetless, injured, and vulnerable, he had a lot of decisions and epiphanies to come to in a split second.

2-BO- Boyd- was not evil. Gyro wouldn’t let Akita’s tampering bring death and destruction to Tokyolk, again, and to Fenton.

Tokyolk may have never been a true failure of Gyro’s, but he still won’t let Fenton fail here.

He brought Boyd back in a way he never would have thought of previously. He had acquired a kid now, and that means it’s time to come clean to Fenton.

His intern- no, coworker- accepted Gyro’s terrors more easily than he expected, and somehow weaseled Gyro into promising to call him the next time he has a nightmare.

Gyro didn’t expect to keep that promise, but he did. And he called again, and again, and again.

And somehow that turned into a budding friendship, one based on a mutual passion for science and care for each other.

Because Fenton cared about him, Gyro realized one day with a shock, the same way he cared about Fenton.

Gyro buried his head in his hands and hoped he was done with heart-stopping epiphanies. But he wasn’t, not yet.

He had one more to go, and it came at one of Mr. McDuck’s fancy company parties that his kids and Mrs. Beakley had weaseled him into spending a lot more money than he would have liked. Gyro allowed himself a small chuckle at his boss’ indignation before he dragged Fenton off to make fun of all the frivolities of the party.  

As he and Fenton pushed their way through the mingling crowd towards the food table, Gyro hapazarded a glance back. Fenton, clad in a white-and-lavender tux that he had blushed and fingered at Mrs. Beakley’s inspection of it before the party, claiming it belonged to his father. But it fit him well, and accented the soft color of his feathers. The warm yellow light of the candles and chandeliers did as well, and as Fenton passed Launchpad his face lit up in a brilliant smile that warmed Gyro’s heart and brought a small smile of his own to his face.

Then it dropped just as suddenly.

I’m in love… shit.

Gyro stiffened and dropped Fenton’s hand, causing the aforementioned duck to immediately pause his quick greeting to Launchpad and whip around towards Gyro, his beautiful face twisting in concern. Gyro waved him off and sprinted away, ignoring Fenton’s cries of protest and worry, and dove into a small storage closet stocked with brooms and mops. (Mrs. Beakley would be furious if she found him here.) He slammed his face into his hands and dropped into a crouch on the floor.

Stupid, stupid, stupid…

How on earth was Gyro supposed to handle this?! He had just gotten used to Fenton as a coworker and friend.

Surely Fenton would resent him if he confessed and upended their already tenuous relationship.

A small, hesitant knock sounded on the door. Gyro groaned. Ugh, speak of the devil…

“Uh, Gyro?” Fenton’s voice drifted through the door. “Are you in there? I thought I saw you run in here… I could have lost you in the crowd, but you kind of stand out… I know you don’t like parties, but it’s not like you to run off unless something’s really wrong…”

Gyro stayed poised on his toes to run, despite the fact that he was trapped in a tiny supply closet with nowhere to go. He didn’t trust himself to reply, so he stayed there silently, holding his breath in anticipation.

After a moment of silence Fenton groaned and dropped his head against the door. The bang startled Gyro, his already-racing heart speeding to new heights. 

“Ugh, stupid. Talking to an empty supply closet.” Fenton muttered to himself. Gyro’s heart ached, especially since he really was listening. 

“Fenton, it’s okay. I’m in here,” he called nervously. His voice was quiet, never rising above a whisper, but somehow it reached Fenton’s ears and he heard the other duck slump against the door in relief.

“Oh, good. I was worried about you, Gyro,” Fenton replied softly. Gyro thought he might have heard a bit of affection in his tone, but he scoffed to himself. Obviously not.

Fenton was an idiot, but even he wasn’t enough of an idiot to actually care about Gyro. Not in the way Gyro apparently cared about him.

Ugh, love was stupid. Harder to figure out and navigate than friendships, and that was saying something! And it was on its way to destroying one of the only precious friendships Gyro had managed to secure.

Ugh. If only he was aromantic like Huey, who had nervously come out to him recently. So much easier.

(Huey would happily debate him on this later for sure.)

“Gyro?” Fenton called again, and Gyro realized he had never replied to his worried coworker. Another failure. 

“Yeah, I’m okay,” he replied back awkwardly. His tone was stilted and hesitant in a way that juxtaposed his usual unshakable aggressiveness and bluntness, which gave Fenton pause and only made him more worried. 

Fenton hesitated for another moment before calling a worried goodbye and ducking away, probably to find Della or Mr. McDuck. Gyro groaned and cursed his own misfortune.

He knew he cared about Fenton, and he had for a long time. So why did it have to get infinitely more complicated?

He pulled out his phone to text Della and Launchpad. They both had been through many relationships, and knew the ups and downs well.

Gyro sighed heavily and rubbed at his forehead in frustration. 

Somehow he’d figure this out. He just had to make sure his stupid feelings didn’t get in the way of his friendship with Fenton.

Since there was no possible way Fenton could reciprocate them, right?

~

HI I FINISHED A WRITING REQUEST FOR THE FIRST TIME IN TWO YEARS DFGHKL;LKHGFGHKL LET’S GO this actually isn’t one of the old ones i got it recently so it doesn’t feel like a full victory but we’ll get there!! I’ve actually been in major writing block recently so I wasn’t expecting to write today, but I woke up this morning with this idea and wrote this in two hours (which is why it’s so bad sdfghgfd) but i finished it and i’m so happy enjoy

this ended up being a little more of a gyro character study than i intended and it feels shitty and a lot like my old writing sorry. it’s unedited mostly, so i apologize for any grammatical errors.

anyway hope you like it! thanks for reading! if you liked this (why) check out my other writing under the #my fanfic or #wavey writes tags, at my ao3 analyticamethyst, or at my wattpad PurpleDragon2003 (I’m not really active there though). I also might open writing commissions soon, so if you like my writing and you’re in a position to commission me please keep an eye out for that! Thank you I love you so much <3 <3

[winryofresembool]

Things We Lost in the Fire, ch 27

aka Caleo uni au

Fic summary: Calypso starts studying at a new university, but to her annoyance her new flatmate is a loud mouthed mechanic who also likes to sneak his dog in whenever. But as she learns to know him better, she realizes they might have more in common than what she first thought. Eventually, even the darkest secrets come out…

Chapter summary: The exam season is underway (yet somehow I don’t mention the exams all too many times...)

A/N: Yay, I'm back with this fic!! I think I can promise a bit more regular updates at least in the near future, but I will be starting to work longer hours possibly starting from next week so I will have a bit less free time then. I am still determined to keep up with my 500ish words per day goal so it should cause too much delay!

That's that, I hope you guys are as happy to return to this universe as I am! As usual, please let me know what you think :) This fic is about to take my longest fic position from Love Can Melt the Ice, so knowing that there are people who care about it really means a lot to me!

Words: 2393

Genre: romance & hurt/comfort

Warnings: none

previous chapter / AO3

Leo would have been lying if he had claimed that everything went back to completely normal after the talk with Calypso. Sure, they both really tried harder to act as neutral and friendly as possible around each other; whenever they were at home at the same time, they chatted casually about how things were going at work and at the university, their latest TV show or music discoveries, or some silly thing one of their friends had said or done recently. Sometimes they even watched something together or cleaned the common area together. However, the earlier confessions were never mentioned. On the surface things were ‘just fine’, but the unspoken words and lingering looks spoke for itself. Leo knew things were still heating up under the surface and sooner or later they would have to make some difficult decisions. But until then, he wasn’t going to risk anything by disrespecting the guidelines that they had set during their ‘big talk’, even if it was hard to resist sometimes.

One evening Leo found Calypso studying for her upcoming exams on the common area couch. She was wearing a pink, tunic length sweater that matched her lip color, and black leggings that hugged her legs tightly (not that he’d ever tell her that he had noticed such things). She had also pulled her now medium length hair into a messy ponytail so it wouldn’t bother her while she was reading, showing her nicely shaped facial features better. Despite noticing all that, Leo’s thoughts soon went to the facts that he had recently learned about his flatmate. Now he knew more about the hardships she had gone through; a dead sister, an abusive, controlling father, being alone all those years and the nightmares she had mentioned while drunk. Yet, somehow there she was, having escaped her father’s grip and looking perfectly content doing something as boring and normal as studying for exams. The girl was way stronger than he had earlier given her credit for, and Leo admired her capability to stay so calm; he wasn’t so sure the ghosts of his own past would leave him alone that easily.

“Hi,” he finally said before Calypso noticed that he’d been standing there just watching her far too long despite the rules they had set. “What are you reading?”

Calypso showed him the book. If she was surprised to see him, she hid it well. “A collage of Frenchmen’s experiences at the front lines during World War II. I know. A very cheerful way to finish the day.” She grimaced.

“Huh? I thought you were mostly focusing on older history? I didn’t know you study that stuff too,” Leo noted, shifting from one foot to another.

“Well, they do require us to have a good enough understanding of the newer events as well,” Calypso replied, now looking at him directly. For some reason that one look managed to make chills go down Leo’s spine. “It is true, though, that I am more interested in ancient history. There’s so much we still don’t know about those times and I want to be able to discover more.”

“I see,” Leo said. “I think I understand what you mean. I am constantly hoping to discover new ways to create things that will be useful for all of us. Flying dragons that use energy drinks as their energy source? How epic would that be?” Excitement surged through him when he simply thought about it.

“Isn’t that a bit out there?” Calypso asked, but Leo didn’t miss the amused glint in her eyes. “And what if everyone had flying dragons and that would cause horrible air accidents? I don’t know about you but to me they don’t sound very safe.”

“Sunshine, what’s life without some danger?” Leo questioned.

“Hmm, let me think: safe?” Calypso retorted.

“Ouch. Well, I don’t think I have time to invent flying dragons any time soon, so you don’t have to worry about that,” Leo reassured her, but now that the idea had been planted into his head, he decided to return to it some day in the future. Hopefully when he would be able to handle fire.

“That’s a relief,” Calypso replied. “Speaking of your inventions… have you decided what you’re going to do about your studies? The last time I asked you said you haven’t been in contact with your professor yet.”

That was a question Leo had been dreading for. He preferred to not talk about that topic unless he had to, but the truth was that he was still quite unsure about being able to continue. However, he hadn’t made any final decisions yet.

“I’ll… I’ll keep working to overcome my fear,” he responded vaguely. “I think I’ve made some small progress during our sessions. If I can keep that going, I may be able to retake the test next year. Small steps, you know.” In reality, so far he had managed to stay close to a small, burning candle for a short period of time without freaking out, but he still didn’t want to try the matches whenever Calypso suggested it. There was still a long way to go before he’d be able to use all the machines he needed during lab classes and at work.

“Okay,” Calypso said, but to Leo she sounded a bit unconvinced. Her voice got more reassuring, though, when she added: “You know that you can ask for my help any time you need it.”

“Yeah, thanks.” Leo nodded. “And same right back at you. I mean, you can ask me. If you need anything.” For some annoying reason he managed to only get stuttering out of his mouth at that moment. “Even if you simply want me to make you a miniature dragon in the middle of the night. It’s fine. I’d totally make it.”

“And why would I want you to make me a miniature dragon in the middle of the night?” Calypso looked at him questioningly. Before Leo managed to answer, her face softened into a smile and she added: “I really appreciate the thought, though. It feels so different… in a good way… to have people in my life who genuinely support me. I haven’t had that, well, since I got separated from my mom.”

She sat a bit straighter on the couch, her gaze going back and front between Leo and her book, and Leo wondered if she was debating if she should reach for him and touch his shoulder or something. Maybe even hug. One side of him wished she would just go for it. But that would have violated their newly made rules and neither wanted to make things even more complicated than they already were. They simply kept staring at each other for a while, as if trying to read each other’s thoughts, but finally Calypso sighed and turned her focus back on her book, closing it.

“I didn’t realize it’s already this late…” She said, adjusting her hair a bit with the hand that wasn’t holding the book. “I still need to finish an assignment for tomorrow.”

She stood up and started walking towards her room, but when she got past Leo, her arm briefly touched his. Leo’s arm was still tingling after Calypso closed the door behind her.

…

A few days later, Leo was still thinking of that incident when he almost fell over a big rock that was standing on his road. He and Jason were currently having a well deserved evening off after finishing their last exams of the semester earlier that day (Leo felt like he had at least succeeded with the calculations but his essay writing was a bit sloppy) and in honor of that they had decided to go for a long jog and after that have a big, unhealthy meal in one of their favorite pizza places. While they were on their way there, Jason had been explaining something about his holiday plans when Leo had zoned out, and Jason had to grab his arm so he didn’t fall.

“Hey, man, you OK?” Jason asked, frowning. “What just happened there?”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m OK.” Leo brushed some dust off the sleeves of his coat. “I was just… thinking. And didn’t notice the rock on the road.”

“Hmmm, what got you that thoughtful?” Jason inquired. “I bet you didn’t even hear what I just said.”

“You know I have a pretty nasty case of ADHD, sometimes I just zone out randomly,” Leo said defensively, not wanting to admit aloud that recently he had been even more distracted than usual because of a certain flatmate of his. “And no, I didn’t hear you.”

“Alright,” Jason shrugged. “I was telling you that Piper’s dad has invited us to visit him over the break. I’m not sure yet if we are going, though. Piper didn’t seem very enthusiastic about it. Sure, she wants to see him, but she suspects he’s still working most of the time so it would be the same to just call instead of traveling all the way to LA.”

“Mmmh,” Leo mumbled, trying hard to stay in the present moment. “I’m going to be at Waystation during the break so if you guys decide to stay, we can still hang out.”

“Okay, I’ll let you know what we decide to do. That wasn’t all, though…” Jason continued, his face becoming concerned. “I think Piper has seemed quite distant lately, and not just when we’ve been talking about that trip. Sometimes I worry that she’s gotten bored of me, or something.”

“No way, man!” Leo exclaimed. “I’ve seen you guys together often enough to know that she loves you. Maybe she’s just going through a rough phase or something.”

Jason didn’t seem quite convinced. “I guess so. It’s just that usually she tells me directly what’s bothering her. This… keeping things inside her isn’t like her.”

“Maybe you just need to give her some time,” Leo suggested. “It’s like me with Cal; I’ve learned to keep my mouth shut more often and in exchange she has slowly started opening up to me more recently.”

“She has? That’s great!” Jason cheered up. “How is it going with you two anyway? I heard some things about the Halloween party aftermath…”

“Nothing happened after the party!” Leo yelped, raising his hands. “Whatever Piper has told you, all lies.”

“Really? So you two wouldn’t have kissed if Piper hadn’t interrupted you guys?” Jason raised his eyebrow.

If Leo’s cheeks hadn’t already been red from the jogging, he certainly would have blushed. “Um… well… the point is that we didn’t. Besides, we’ve set some rules that we’re supposed to follow because we don’t wanna make our co living too complicated.”

“So there is something going on between you two and you are acknowledging it,” Jason teased. “You wouldn’t need to set any rules otherwise.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Leo muttered. “If you must know, we did admit that we like each other after the party.”

“But that’s great!” Jason exclaimed.

“It feels pretty crazy,” Leo replied. “Sometimes I wonder why she likes me, but maybe the Bad Boy Supreme’s magic is stronger than I thought.”

Jason snorted at his comment. “I don’t know Calypso as well as you do but I doubt it’s the so-called Bad Boy Supreme side that she cares about. You pretend to be all cool and try to seem like you don’t care about what’s happening around you but I think you do that only because you care too much. Maybe Calypso has noticed that as well.”

“Dude, you’ve been hanging out with Piper too much.” Leo shook his head. “That’s something she would say. ” “Well, she’s not wrong. Anyway, what happened after the big confession?”Jason asked curiously.

“We’re not together if that’s what you’re asking, ” Leo denied immediately. “I just mentioned the rules, remember? We wouldn’t need them if we had decided to go down that road.” “Ouch… but why? Why didn’t you just decide to do it?” Jason wanted to know.

“For some stupid, noble reasons,” Leo grunted. “I’m not gonna go into the details because it’s up to her to talk about it, but long story short, she thinks it’s safer that way. I think she’s afraid of hurting one of us.”

“And do you think she’s right?” Jason inquired.

“I… No! I’ve told her I can handle it. But I’m not gonna push it - believe me, Jo and Emmie have given me long lectures about respecting women’s boundaries. If Cal and I wanna keep living together, I have to let it be.”

“Yeah, I can see your point.” Jason nodded.

“Besides…” Leo added after a moment, his face falling as he thought about his past. “Bad things tend to follow me. Who is to say that I wouldn’t be the one getting her into trouble?”

“Why do you think that?”

“Because when have I ever been successful with anything I’ve done?” Leo asked in return.

Jason seemed to finally understand what event Leo was really referring to. “You’re still beating yourself for things that happened years ago?”

“Why do you think I’m not capable of going to some of the lab classes? Because I simply think that skipping is fun and I don’t care whether I pass it or not?” There had been a time when Leo hadn’t cared about his school success, but back in those days he hadn’t cared about much else either. Now that he had dreams and things to live for, he hated the idea that anyone would think he’d throw it all away just because he could. His new family deserved better than that for what they had done for him.

“No, no, I was not thinking that! You just never talk about it so I assumed… whatever.” Jason didn’t want to make Leo even angrier so he decided it was better to change the topic. “Maybe we should talk about something else. I still hope that you and Cal will work it out eventually.”

“Yeah. I hope so too. Same for you and Piper.” The friends had gotten close to their destination, so Leo exclaimed quickly: “Hey, I’m smelling the pizza now! Whoever is last at the door pays!”

“That’s a bad deal because you know I’m faster than you. I train every day!” Jason pointed out but soon sprinted after him.

[perpetuelledaydreaming]

Back to you (Chapter VI)

Summary:  Y/N Stark and Peter Parker are unconditionally and irrevocably in love with each other, being friends for years was just the step before making it official. BUT, just the weekend they did, Thanos and the snap happened, leaving Y/N broken: without friends, avengers family or Peter Parker. So, she has to move on, at least that’s what everyone’s telling her and she really tries to do it and who better to help her than Harry Osborn. But, has she really let Peter go? What if Tony Stark -genius, billionaire, playboy, and philanthropist- knows how to bring Peter back? And what happens when he does? Is Y/N going to avenge again? Who’s going to lead the avengers now? Who is she going to choose? Harry or Peter? and who the hell is mysterio? *He doesn’t even go here

word count: 10.5k

author’s note: May was a really hard month for me and with everything that’s happening in the world, I didn’t even know if I should be writing? It seemed so pointless. But here we are anyway, it helps my mental health and that’s why I was so late with this chapter. I was going to make it longer but I think we covered our foundation here. Anyway, please if you are in USA be careful with everything that’s happening and I’ve been seeing some resources on instagram. I’ll try to post more here or on insta

series masterlist

“A pleasure to see you, Stark” Nick Fury stated as you shook his hand with a stone face. 

It wasn’t that you didn’t like Nick Fury, Tony, and Steve trusted him and in consequence, you did as well -at least the majority of the time-. He was the one that had brought them together but also with the fall of SHIELD, it wasn’t like before. Either way, you knew he was going to be part of this and you complied because you needed all the support that you could find to get the avengers together again. 

“So, what’s this about?”, you asked as you turned back to see an old Steve sitting down in the conference room already. 

It had been two weeks since the funeral and the world was going back to normal again, clearly as best as anyone possibly could. For you, it had been a busy couple of weeks with your non-profit and trying to figure out how to decipher Tony’s USB. The days you spent at the office were chaotic while the nights you spend them at your lab restlessly trying to find what Tony had left for you. 

No one knew about the USB, it simply remained between Strange, you, and H.A.P.P.Y while you tested every possible combination to unlock it but your efforts have been in vain. Regarding your non-profit, relocating the children to their parents had been a rather a bitch of a process. The protocol that your volunteers had designed, which was overall great and easier, had been hijacked by the government that decided to intervene and just add more paperwork and more time; which annoyed you because kids wanted to be with their parents and this was just another way of keeping them apart. 

Thankfully, Pepper and Harry had been helping you deal with everything and tried to see a foreseeable future for the non-profit and their facilities on the east and west coast. The facilities were still useful for kids that were in foster care of the kids who had lost their parents regardless of the snap, therefore, Pepper had managed to snatch a meeting with the president to discuss a possible alliance to keep the facilities working with their help. 

Truth was that you felt better if the government gave you a hand, it had been a full-time work for you and now it didn’t seem possible to handle it all since you wanted to go to University. Stark Industries would permanently have a percentage; after the sale, it would be smaller than the one the government had but the non-profit would keep working and that was your main goal. 

It was the only reason you had to agree to meet with Fury at the moment because you knew that now you would have the time and it wasn’t difficult to foresee what he wanted from you. 

“You need to be the new head of the Avengers, Y/N”, Steve finally said with a stern look. 

It was hard to see Steve as an old man when you had spent the majority of your life seeing him as this strong, young superhero that could have the mannerisms of a really old person. It was fun to make jokes about it and everyone did it, sure, you had picture Steve just like this for a Halloween someday but now it was too real. In all honesty, you didn’t want to judge his decision but somehow it pained you that he hadn’t chosen to stay with you and help you in this transition. Yes, he was there but not like before and it felt like you had been left alone by the other most important person in your life. 

“What about Sam or Bucky?”, you asked. “They are older”

“They became fugitives after SHIELD crashed down”, Fury explained. “We need you”

You knew it. You knew that neither Bucky or Sam were approved by the government and it annoyed you to the core because Sam was the best option along with you but now it wasn’t possible thanks to a couple of white old men in suits that didn’t know how was it out there.

“I saw this coming”, you sighed as your eyes connected with Steve’s. “Isn’t it too soon?”

“The world is going to look up to you since your father saved the universe”, Fury answer, and you turned around to watch him walk silently. “It’s up to you to keep the Avengers alive”

You remained quiet for a few seconds. The guilt and the burden swinging over your head as the words of Fury stuck in your head while you watched him. 

It was up to you and although you had tried to escape it and have a little peace of mind the last few weeks it was an irreversible fact that you were in charge now, whether you liked it or not. Pepper had let you go back with her to the cabin and she had tried not to push it, but the talk was brought up either way.  

…

“You do know you don’t have to do it if you don’t want to”, Pepper said as she brought you your cup of tea while you sat in front of the fireplace. 

“Thank you”, you answer softly as you took the cup in your hands, warming them. “The way I see it, I don’t have many options now that Steve made his choice”

She sipped on her coffee as she watched you carefully. Her eyes gleaming with fear, you knew she didn’t want this for you and neither did Tony, that’s why they try to avoid it as much as they could but now you were at this crossroad. It was even harder now to accept this new burden considering how your father’s story had turned out. 

“I mean it, y/n”, Pepper insisted, her voice stern making you turned around completely to face her. “You don’t have to do this. Tony and I once hope that you would be the CEO of Stark Industries, that you could leave that life behind.”

“Pepper…”

“Y/N, I don’t know if you realize this but you are not Tony,” Pepper said, as she placed a hand over yours. “Your father, because of who he was didn’t have a choice, but you do.” 

You shook your head. 

“But I am like him”, you said quietly as you took Pepper’s hand into yours. “I can’t brush off his legacy and you know how much I wanted this since I was a kid”

“You also wanted to run Stark Industries like me”, Pepper said as she raised her brows. “But avenging, it can’t be your whole life”

“And I still want to”, you assured her. “I know it can’t and I don’t want to live as Nat or Steve did, I just don’t want to let dad down. I feel like everyone knows it’s on me”

Pepper remained quiet for a few moments and she sighed, she squeezed your hand as her gaze went to the fireplace in front of you. 

“You are not letting him down Y/N, you could never do that and I know what you mean because Tony felt somehow the same and that’s why he fought so hard”, Pepper replied quietly, she sucked in a breath as she turned around to watch you again and gave you a soft smile. “I’ll try to be okay with any decision you make, but I want you to still go to university as you had planned before, your life can’t be on hold anymore”

“You know I want to go; you don’t have to ask me that. I started sending my applications after what happened”, you said as you took a sip of your tea. “Thank you for understanding”

“I dealt with your dad for a long time, I know better”, Pepper said with a chuckled while you giggled. 

“You really think I can be like him?”, you asked. 

“Y/N, you don’t have to be like him. You have to find yourself and whatever makes you feel okay”, Pepper replied honestly. “If you believe you have to do this, you can do it kid”

“Thank you, mom” 

You knew you wanted this; you knew you had to do this because you wanted to make Tony proud. He had believed in you, Nat too, and know it was your chance to prove everyone that you were succeeding and that Tony’s legacy was still alive. 

… 

But now sitting in that conference room with Steve and Fury, you couldn’t help feeling as if you were suffocating while they watched you carefully waiting for an answer. Maybe the feeling would go away, you were just starting but what worried you is that the feeling didn’t stop. 

“Mrs. Stark?”, Fury’s voice woke you up from your thoughts and you blinked trying to get back into the conversation. 

“Sorry”, you muttered as you cleared your throat. “I get that we need the Avengers alive but we are only five. It’s less than what you guys,” you signaled Steve, “had when you started it.”

Nick Fury looked at you with a smile as he took out from his trench coat a couple of folders and threw them on the table, his only eye gleaming with satisfaction, as if he was proud, he already knew everything as if he hadn’t snapped and was still aware of everything that was happening. 

“We have some ideas for recruits”, he said smugly. 

You rolled your eyes and took a hold of some of the folders, your eyes followed the letters and the pictures on it and you couldn’t help but feel a shiver of fear as you read the profiles of this people. It was becoming too real and although you were great at making things work you couldn’t help but feel responsible for them.  

But at the end of the day, they were exactly who you needed to make it work. 

You nodded your head and turned around to watch Steve. “Do you agree with all of them?”, you asked as you raised the folder with your hand. 

Steve remained quiet for a few seconds. “I think they have what it takes”

“Then we need to call them in”, you stated as you stood up, your heart thumping on your chest. 

It probably wasn’t a good idea for you, to have Peter at the meeting. But he had become an official Avenger when both of you decided to go to Titan with your dad and he was the most beloved hero of New York City -apart from you-, it was obvious that you needed his help to do this. 

But clearly, he wasn’t thrilled. 

You were walking through the hallways of Stark Tower; you had just finished a meeting with the volunteers of the facilities to thank them all for their help during this time and now you were late to the Avengers meeting. Honestly, the anxiety of the meeting hadn’t slowed down, the ache in your stomach got worse as time passed and you felt like your mind was somewhere else as you checked over and over again the points of the meeting. 

It wasn’t any news that when you were distracted enough you became a klutz. So, as you ran through the hallways of Stark Tower to get into the meeting in time, you unexpectedly collided with the brown-hair boy with chocolate eyes with specks of honey that made your heart stop. 

It wasn’t at all the meet-cute that it could’ve been. 

Peter, obviously with his super-strength didn’t even flinch as you fell forward on the floor as people gasped as they saw you there. It was as if you had wanted to run over him but he was a wall, so as you hit his back you were the one flying over. Papers everywhere, the screen of your iPhone probably cracked, a sharp pain on your shoulder and the ankle that Thanos had injured was throbbing a bit. 

“I-I’m sorry”, Peter managed to let out as he helped to collect the files that you were carrying along with your phone while you sat down on the floor wincing. 

“Don’t worry, I was the klutz”, you replied and it seemed that Peter froze as soon as he heard your voice. 

Maybe he hadn’t even noticed that it was you but the face when he realized it was you, it wasn’t pretty. 

Not even because of his hostile expression but he didn’t look well. He had bags under his eyes, the shadows made his usually big eyes become smaller, his brown curls weren’t styled as he liked but they were over the place and he seemed pale. It was as if he hadn’t sleep in…

“When was the last time you slept more than two hours?”, the question came out of nowhere and you wanted to hit yourself in the face because it wasn’t even appropriate. 

But you knew him, you knew how he sucked in everything around him. Peter’s sense had dialed to eleven since he was bitten by the radioactive spider and along with his anxiety thanks to the sense of responsibility he had after becoming Spider-man. You used to think that you overthink a lot of things but when you met Peter, you realized that it wasn’t half as bad. Sleeping together, your voice, your hands on his curls, your laugh, and holding your hand were things that helped him blow the anxiety away. Nonetheless, he couldn't do it anymore. 

Peter stayed quiet, examining you. You looked like heaven to him: rosy cheeks, your hair a bit messy but now more styled, the black turtle neck you were using looked elegant but casual by wearing your force 1 with them, he could tell that you were tired but the shadows under your eyes didn’t overshadow your y/e/c eyes, and those lips, you had just placed some Chapstick over them and he could tell. Peter decided right then and there that growing older suited you, you looked so good and he just wanted to kiss you right there and then. He wanted you to hold him and tell you that he hadn’t slept since you fought, he wanted to tell you that he missed you and that you two were meant for each other. 

But as much as he wanted to kiss you and tell you that he loved you, he didn’t do it, the angered and sadness clawing their way into his heart. 

The last few weeks had been confusing and tiring. He had returned to Midtown to all of your friends asking about you and while he didn’t say anything about Harry, he had to break down to them that you weren’t together and that you weren’t returning to Midtown either. 

…

“Do you mean she’s abandoning us!?”, Flash exclaimed dramatically as they all sat down in the lunch table while Peter only rolled his eyes. 

“I don’t know what she’s doing but she’s going to be 21 in a couple of months”, Peter explained. “She’s not coming back to school”

“Well, we are leaving in a few months to college”, Betty intervened. “We just have to take the final exams again but this fall we are going with Y/N to college” 

“These are the most important ones!” Ned cried. “Where the memories are made!”

He was barely holding it together and Betty was just playing with his hair, in an attempt to calm him down while MJ remained quiet, as if she was trying to process what was going on. Peter had wished that you were the one who told them but he understood that they had questions and that you wanted to keep to yourself. It was usually the thing you did when you were feeling down, still, he couldn’t help to hate it at the moment. 

But as always, MJ came out with the logical response and wisest answer. 

“She’s not abandoning us Flash,” she snarled as she gave him a side glanced and then looked back at Peter. “She has grown and she just lost her dad. We don’t know what was like to live without us, so let’s just give her time and she’ll come back to us”

Peter rolled his eyes, not in an obvious way but enough for MJ to notice and see red. 

“And get over yourself Parker, yes, she broke up with you but we don’t know what her life has been like for two years!”, MJ grumbled. “You know how much we can change in even six months?”

“MJ it’s not about me and y/n as a couple but-”

“-as best friends”, Peter and Flash said at the same time. 

Flash looked back and forth between MJ and Peter while they looked at him bugged eyed. 

“Shut up, Flash. You just literally became part of the group”, MJ grumbled and she stood up from the table as she faced Peter. “Stop being butthurt with Y/N and give her time”, she said walking away. 

All of them remained quiet for a second.

“Are we going to do what MJ said?”, Flash asked quietly. 

“When do we ever do something that MJ doesn’t say”, Ned replied as he placed his hand on Betty’s shoulder. 

“What if it’s too much time?”, Flash asked once again. 

“We just have to wait, Flash, don’t worry”, Betty replied.

But Peter remained quiet as he looked away, zoning out. It was actually something Peter saw coming, he knew that MJ and you had become close before the snap, and MJ was a fierce and loyal friend while you were as well. It didn’t surprise him her reaction and he also knew she was right, but he couldn’t help but feel still angry over what had happened with you and at that point he didn’t know if he was even mad at you but at the fact that he snapped away and you didn’t. 

…

It had been a few weeks after MJ snapped at Peter, he thought maybe his anger would die down but as his eyes focused on you, it still hurt so much. At the moment, Peter could’ve said a lot of things but why? Did he wonder if you really cared about him? What were you possibly going to say that would make him feel better? Would telling you off make him feel better? Of course not, he would feel awful if he said anything bad to you. Therefore he didn’t answer. 

“Peter, please”, you pleaded as he helped you stood up by grabbing your hand. 

But he didn’t budge, he didn’t open his mouth. He simply walked past you towards the conference room and you turned around, with a bleak expression, seeing him walking away.

It hurt. 

You had heard that some people preferred someone yelling at them and telling them off rather than to have someone not saying absolutely anything. Honestly, you didn’t understand and it was maybe because Tony had always said what was bothering him, he never stayed silent and neither did Pepper, so you didn’t understand until now how hurtful it could be. You winced at the realization you had done it to others, it was your preferred mechanism to disappear and stay with yourself, it was easier for you since you liked being alone but now you realized it was even worst. 

Your phone buzzing took your eyes away from Peter before he made a right to make it to the conference room. 

“What now?”

The screen turned on, with a small crack over it, and you couldn’t help but smile as you saw the MIT email on it. 

We are pleased to inform you that you had been admitted to MIT undergrad programs of electrical engineering, physics, and business …

You couldn’t contain your excitement as you watched the screen. It was something that Tony had always wanted, he had a pull-on MIT and had wished that you were going to his alma mater, along with Peter. It was a bittersweet moment for you, one day you had picture yourself there with Peter and Tony picking you up on the weekends to New York to spend time with Pepper, training with Nat and Steve, visiting your friends. 

But everything had been erased and now you were here, being head of the avengers and already definitely late for your meeting. 

The race to the hallways was rather quickly and in no time you were in front of the conference room but before you opened the door you took a deep breath. 

The ache in your stomach didn’t budge one bit, your feet couldn’t stop tapping on the ground as you bit your inner cheek.  This was your first move as head of the Avengers and you needed to play the part;  Fake it till you make it, you thought to yourself as you fixed your hair as best as you could and straightened your outfit; taking a deep breath, you walked in. 

It seemed like one of those dreams when you watch yourself, from another place, like a scene of a movie. At least that was how you felt as you tried to catch in on all the people who turned around as soon as you walked in with determination and the poker face that Tony had once taught you, but it felt like you were gasping for air as you saw from the corner of your eye Fury glaring at you. 

“You are late”, Fury stated. 

“I’m running a multimillion-dollar non-profit and was in a meeting with a correspondent of the White House, and I’m going to run this show,” you stated as you walked next to him, in front of everyone present. “So no, I’m not late”

It was a bold move and you prayed internally that it worked as you had a stare-down with Nick Fury, which you couldn’t even picture in your wildest dreams, and although you knew it was a lie about the White House, it was a way to assert your leadership. 

“Let’s begin,” you said by dropping the folders on the table and turning around to face everyone.

If Ned could be right there and then, you knew he would’ve passed out. 

Peter was sitting at your right, a bit slouched but he was in, next to him Wanda was sitting down as she winked at you, Lila Barton was sat down next to her with Clint by her side. On the other side of the table, there was Steve, Bucky, and Sam -or how your dad liked to call them The Army Bros, Steve and his kids, Ménage a Trois, among others-, then Harley was next to them smirking at you, Cassie Lang was also with Scott who seemed a bit in awe with the view in front of him. 

It was exciting seeing them together in one room, you could see a team forming here; you just hoped that it didn’t have to happen with an alien invasion followed by a significant battle in New York. 

“You have been called here because The Avengers are not done”, Steve said sternly as he looked at all of them. He might have been over 100 years but the force on his voice and the sense of leadership in his eyes didn’t go away for a second. “We still need to have a future.” Steve gazed at you as he finished and you sucked in a breath. 

It was your cue. 

“There was an idea to bring together a group of remarkable people, they did become something more and fought the battles that we couldn’t win”, you explained seriously, watching how Nick Fury turned around to see how you cited each one of the words he had said to your father. They had stuck with you all these years and you didn’t see why you shouldn’t bring them up now. “We need to be the next generation of that group, maintain the legacy, we have a responsibility with the world”.

Your eyes connected with everyone’s in the room, except for Peter who immediately looked away. 

“That’s the reason that we call you in”, Fury intervened as he walked towards you and Steve. “You have the abilities to save the world”. Everyone stayed silent as they watched him. “Y/N Stark or Iron hea-”, Fury began by dropping the first folder that contained your profile. 

“-don’t even say it, it’s just Stark”, you interrupted as you raised your hand for him to stop, Fury simple rolled his eye with a still stone-cold face drawn. 

“Spider-man”, he said looking at Peter, folder dropped. 

“Scarlett Witch”, Wanda sucked in a breath as the folder dropped in front of her. 

“Winter Soldier or White Wolf should I say?”, Fury asked. 

Bucky remained quiet as he gazed at the folder that Fury had thrown on him, clearly bigger than any of the others. He just sighed and nodded. 

“Falcon, the new Captain America”, Fury said and Sam smirked as he placed a hand over Steve’s shoulder while Bucky rolled his eyes. 

“Iron lad”, Fury said gazing at Harvey who seemed like he wanted to pass out as he quickly took a hold of the folder and began reading it full speed. 

“Statue”, he said looking at Cass while Scott looked at him with panic. It was clear that he didn’t want Cassie there but by the way, Cassie was excitedly looking at the folder and what was written about her, it wasn’t his choice to make. 

“Finally, Kate Bishop”, Fury finished as he nodded at Clint who was sternly looking at you.  

Cassie quickly turned around to look at her, bug-eyed. “Thought that you were Lila Barton?”, she said confused. 

Before Clint or Lila could even respond, you interrupted them. 

“It’s Lila’s secret identity”, you explained with a smile. “No one can know she’s related to Clint. It can risk their cover and we don’t want anything happening to them”. 

“Thanks, Y/N”, Clint said with a tight smile. 

It was clear that you would’ve to talk with Clint and Scott soon and calm them down, they reminded you of your dad and well, Lila and Cassie reminded you of you at that age and how much you wanted to follow your father’s steps into becoming an actual hero. They wanted to be in it so badly that they went behind their parents back to make it happened and it was the same as you began to build your suit without Tony knowing it. 

Lila had talked with Fury at the funeral, she had sneak from Clint and Laura while Fury was having a word with Carol. She had explained to him that she was good with the bow and arrow, maybe even better than her dad; and most importantly, she had realized that she wanted to do something good if she knew how to do it. On the other part, Cassie had been begging Scott, Janet, Hope, and Hank to let her into the team, Cassie was smarter than Scott and in the few years that had passed, she was sure that she wanted to follow her dad’s steps after actually losing him. Although Hope and Scott didn’t agree on it, Hank and Janet had a soft spot for Cassie and had given her a suit, after a few trials they had realized she was really good. It didn’t take long for Fury to hear the word and contact them. It wasn’t a pretty discussion with Hank or Hope, but Janet and Scott more or less got where Cassie was coming from, finally convincing them it was a good option. 

Lila was fifteen while Cassie was fourteen, approximately a year younger before your first mission; it seemed like it was time to train them although a part of you wanted them to stay training for a little longer. 

“What about the other ones?”, Peter asked as he looked at Steve, drawing you back to the conversation. “T’Challa? Or Captain Marvel? Where’s Thor?”

You winced at his remark, it stung that he was unsure about this new plan and this new era. Did he wanted to be there? Steve had been the one calling him and knowing how much Peter respected Steve, you were sure he was going to say yes. But now that you were actually listening to him, at the dead tone he had, at the way he was avoiding you or even zoning out, you didn’t know if it was the best idea to have him on the team. 

But Peter wasn’t doubting you. He didn’t doubt you for a second, in his heart he knew that you were going to be a great leader, but as he gazed at you, it became too much. 

“They’ll come when they are needed but we need a response team, the foundations,” Steve said as he signaled the room. “You are that team” 

Peter nodded in response. Truth was that Peter felt proud that he had been called, he remembered like it was yesterday when Tony had officially made him an avenger. How you had jumped into his arms and planted a kiss on his lips as if you didn’t care that you were going to a new planet and facing the scariest villain that you had met, all that it mattered was how official this was. But that was it, it came back to the fact that he wanted to stand up with you and hold your hand and be your support but he couldn’t do it. 

“Anyway, newbies you are not official members yet”, you stated as you signaled to Cassie, Harley, and Lila. “But we need to start training you and we will begin next week”

“How much training?”, Harley asked concerned since you knew he was about to finish college this semester. 

“Don’t worry, we will start on the weekends. You’ll be flown here from Boston and San Francisco by one of our quinjets”, you explained. “Lila, you’ll come every two weeks since you train with Clint almost every day and there’s no better teacher for your specialty”

Lila nodded excitedly as she gazed back at Clint, who simply smiled and placed a kiss on her forehead. 

“We are going to train in the tower again?”, Peter asked as he looked at you, he was really looking at you, you gaped for a bit by the way his eyes were looking at you. 

“Ye-Yes… I-uhm- until the compound it’s -uhm- I already ordered to rebuild it”, you stumbled through your words as you tried to maintain the first eye-contact that Peter had given you. “It’s on my name now”

Peter nodded quietly and you smiled as a response but it didn’t last long as he quickly gazed back at Fury as he began to explain the regime that you were going to follow and how the group trainings were going to go, especially since Sam and Bucky had a special mission in Europe for the next month or two. Harley along with Cassie were the ones doing the most questions and most of the talking regarding the new initiative, Lila asked a few questions but it seemed like she was more familiar with the spy language that you were using. Wanda, Sam, and Bucky took on the role of mentors as they sometimes intervened and explained how things worked, along with you and Steve. Peter talked a few times as well, but he stayed quiet for most of the meeting, he knew the protocols and the plans so he didn’t have many questions. He was zoning out as he looked at you when you weren’t looking, god, he was trying to avoid it because it created a lump on his throat the more, he looked at you and knew that nothing was going to happen between you two again. 

So, when you lifted the meeting, he stood up as fast as he could and walked out of the room. 

“So, what’s up with him?”, Wanda asked as everyone began walking out of the room and you stayed alone picking up the papers and giving a nod to Fury as he told you that he was going to be in contact. 

Wanda was a big part of your life. She became like a sister after Ultron and although she was a couple of years older than you, it was a matter of time before you became best friends. The nights that you stayed at the compound and that Peter spent with Aunt May, became official girls’ nights between you two and sometimes Natasha (although she wasn’t a fan). You knew she was the first person that realized you had feelings for Peter and it was the first person you told about your first kiss after Scorpion attacked you. She also told you about Vision and you were there as she slowly let her guard down with him, at the end falling head over heels for him. 

Their relationship was sweet and authentic, neither of them was trying to be someone that they weren’t and they accepted each other with everything they came with. When you lost both of them to the snap, it somehow made you feel okay? That they weren’t living without the other because they seemed so meant to be together, Vision adored her. Nonetheless, when Wanda came back and Vision didn’t, you knew it was going to take a toll on her. Wanda had been staying in the tower since all of you came back, she hadn’t left her room and she hadn’t been herself as she tried to deal with the grief of losing Vision, Bucky had been overprotective of her the last few days of her and Bruce checked up on her every day, you also visited her as much as you could and you had heard that Peter had swing by a couple of times as well. This was the first day that you had seen her out of her room and you were beyond happy about seeing her like this. 

“I thought that he had told you when he came to visit”, you said as you turned around and wrap your arms around Wanda who hugged you back. 

Wanda and Peter were good friends, she saw him as a little brother and she messed around with him when she had the opportunity. They used to try to sneak up on him with Vision sometimes, but Peter’s spidey sense was too strong for them to win; at the end, Wanda resorted into levitating a few things when Peter wasn’t looking and it would annoy him before he would shot his web to the object that would be flying over his head with a red halo or in another place of the room. 

“He didn’t do much talking actually, he just listened”, Wanda explained as she let go of you. “So, what happened?”

In all honesty, you were somehow dreading this part of telling Wanda about Harry, you remember how happy she was when you told her about Peter and was all over your team even after older avengers were kind of apprehensive about it. 

You sighed as you leaned on the table. “You know Oscorp Industries?” 

“I don’t like where this is going”, Wanda bit her lip, wincing as she watched you carefully and you nodded in response. 

The memory of Peter’s eyes gleaming with tears as they fell from his cheeks while you spat out that you were with someone new hunted you. Your heart sank more and more was you thought about it, it was one of the worst things you had to do. 

“It’s not that I forgot about Peter, but I was just so lost and everyone was telling me to move on”, you shrugged as Wanda sat on one of the chairs next to you. 

It was true, you never forgot about the boy with chocolate eyes. It just happened that when you were getting better, Harry appeared in your life and just made it easier. It was easy and calming to be with him, he was everything you would want on a boyfriend. 

“I know the feeling”, Wanda mumbled and you felt guilty that you were talking about your love life when Wanda’s significant other had passed away. “So, what’s he like?”

You huffed as you tried to find words to describe Harry. “He’s gorgeous to look at, he is kind and humble. I just like to be around him”. 

Wanda eyed you suspiciously for a few moments and it scared you because you knew how good she was at reading you and knowing your feelings. It scared you that she might tell you that you were making the wrong decision. 

“But he’s no Peter”, Wanda stated as she looked at you intently. 

No, there was no way that Harry would compare to Peter. And it was unfair to do it because they were too different, the only thing linking them together was that they cared about you. 

“No”, you answered honestly as you closed your eyes, pinching the bridge of your nose as you tried to find the right words to fight Wanda’s gaze. “He isn’t but I do care about him, a lot. You can’t understand how much he has help-.”

“-do you love him?”, Wanda interrupted and you became stiff as she mentioned love. 

It wasn’t that the fact that neither Harry or you had said it, he knew how delicate that was for you and the fact that you had only told Peter that you loved him had maybe restrained Harry to actually mumbled it out. But on your part, you knew how your heart felt warm when you saw him and how you automatically smiled, he made you laugh and made you feel okay; still, you hadn’t said it. 

“I think I do”, you answered honestly. 

Wanda rolled her eyes as she stood from the chair and splayed her hands on the table, a straight-face as she eyed you again, as if she was in an interrogatory, “It’s a yes or no answer Y/N”. 

And you felt the pressure like she had meant you to feel it. “Wanda, stop”, you felt your cheeks growing warmer and even maybe a headache as you looked right back at her, but you knew better than to avoid her questions and you finally answered, “I can’t give you one”. 

Wanda finally looked away as she passed a hand through her hair. “So, what are your feelings for Peter then?” Wanda sighed. 

“I love him”, you stated without any doubt on your voice, making her shoot a look at you of confusion. 

What’s it weird to say that you love your ex-boyfriend but doubt that you loved your current one? Maybe, you thought as you hopped off the table. 

“If you are so sure then why don’t you go back to him?”, Wanda asked, annoyance lingering onto her voice. 

You smirked as you watched her because it was too obvious who she was going to choose, “Oh, I see you are Team Peter on this”

She gave you a light smile back. “You know I love Peter but Y/N…”, her lips pressed for a second as she tried to fix her words, “I remember when you told me about Peter for the first time and there was something inside you that you couldn’t control”, she said as she walked closer to you, “It was as if this bright feeling was filling you, everything inside you shined.” 

And you remembered it, you remembered how you felt golden when you were with Peter. How your heart fluttered on your chest as his lips pressed against your body and then against your lips. How his hands would always seek your body and how on the nights you would spend together, you would fall asleep to the beating of his heart. 

“I’m not disputing that,” you stated curtly, as you recollected all the folders with a little more speed than you would. “but I have Harry too and he helped me during the time I lost everything and we just get along so well. It would be unfair for me to simply toss him after Peter came back”

Wanda’s gaze was burning your back and you could tell she was swallowing somethings just to get off your back because she noticed you were getting riled up. 

“I understand,” she finally said as you sighed and looked back at her. “But if you want this team to work, Peter and you have to keep being the best friends that you have always been”

At that very moment, Peter was thinking about the same thing. 

Was it even worth trying to work for this new team out if you weren’t on talking terms? No, it wasn’t. You were his partner and he was yours, even if years had passed for you and you were with someone new, nothing could change the fact that together you guys worked. Together you worked better than anyone in the team, Peter even believed that you guys were more connected than Nat and Steve at some point before the snap. It was the actual true, Peter knew your every move and you knew him; most importantly, you would do whatever was needed to keep the other one safe. 

But how?

“How what?”, a voice snapped Peter out of his thoughts realizing he had said it out loud. His eyes followed the husky voice, recognizing that the elevator at Stark’s tower had been emptied while he had been thinking about you. 

His eyes found this boy, should he even say boy? No, he was a man. Peter was sure that he could be confused with a model, his almond eyes were green-ish or grey-ish, he couldn’t tell and were accompanied by a sharp jaw with well-groomed facial hair. He passed a hand through his dark hair and Peter realized how tall he was. 

“I…”, Peter mumbled as he rose a brow. “It’s nothing, uhm- which floor are we?” 

The guy simply nodded and smiled simply at Peter. “We are arriving at the penthouse, right now.”

Before the doors opened, F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s voice could be heard in all the elevator. 

“Hello, Harry”, the AI said smoothly. “And welcome back Peter, Mrs. Potts wanted to see you”

Peter blinked in surprise; he felt his body stiffened as he heard the name. It wasn’t that Peter had been stalking you or trying to find who you were dating. Just casually some days prior, Peter had recruited Ned to find out and without a doubt, Ned worked faster than the FBI. 

…

“There are no photos?” Peter mewled as he walked through the walls of his room while Ned was furiously typing on his computer.

Peter wasn’t per se proud of how fixated he was on it, but he just wanted to know who had been the guy that you had actually opened your heart to that wasn’t him. You weren’t too much into relationships since he met you, you were focused on avenging and school; relationships other than your close friendships, and later, Peter’s were the things occupying your mind. 

You had gone out on a couple of dates with both boys and girls before Peter, but nothing more than a friendly chat or maybe a kiss happened between you and them. Peter tried not to be jealous but the relentless flirting did annoy him, and sometimes he let shades of it through. 

You noticed it, so when the girls would come by to talk to you at lunch and play with your hair while Peter watched, you tried to be as nonchalant as you could. With boys, you simply and politely most of the time (if they weren’t being an asshole) asked them to get lost or refused their advances. And always after the fact, Peter would be in an unusually high good mood. 

So, now with Harry, he was clearly on a mission. 

“No man, apparently his father wanted him out of the spotlight,” Ned replied as he rubbed his tired eyes. “Not that this Norman Osborn appears on many things. Remember that I had to do a presentation about him? There was barely any information”

Peter huffed. “Well, then what did you found?”

Ned glared at him as he began typing again, his fingers moving faster than Peter’s eyes. “Well, he is a billionaire and a philanthropist, he had projects in Latin America and Africa on bioengineer which he’s pretty good at”

Peter rolled his eyes, he knew how much you cared about doing your part in the world, you understood your privileges and tried to do something good about it. You didn’t like to be a girl with daddy’s credit card, there was nothing more annoying to you than when people assumed you were vapid and frivolous because of who your father was. 

“Perfect, what else do we know about Mr. perfect?”, Peter snarled as he began descending from the walls and sat next to Ned. 

Ned opened various tabs on the computer that seemed like it was going to burst with information at any point. “He has won several awards about bioengineering and as an activist. His mother was from China but he lived a few years in Malaysia as well, he went to a snobbish school and speaks English, Malay, Mandarin, French, and Spanish”

Peter’s eyes rolled to the back of his skull. “Can he be any more perfect?”, he whined and stayed silent for a few moments. “Is there any information about him and Y/N?”

Ned eyed Peter for a second, contemplating him in silence. “Do you want me to tell you that?”

Peter’s eyes connected with Ned’s, he was so tired of crying every night but it was almost impossible for him to stop. When he closed his eyes, he could only see you, you were a trigger for him. 

“No, let’s leave it alone for the day”

…

“Aren’t you going come in?”, Harry asked slowly and Peter simply nodded as he followed him to the large living room. 

Peter’s mind was running as if he had sipped four coffees without any milk, his jaw tightened as he watched Harry comfortably sitting on the grey sofa where once Tony had sat Peter to tell him stories about his fights, to explained him new plans, to finally confront him and you about your ongoing relationship that you had kept a secret for almost six months. 

He felt himself growing hot and his anxiety flew out of the charts. Peter, who seemed so innocent in his jeans, white shirt and black hoodie began thinking about the many ways he wanted to toss Harry out of the apartment without a second thought. 

Maybe you were his trigger, seeing you in that black dress was telling him that you were with someone else was his trigger but now Harry had become his new one. Now he could only picture you with Harry; Harry who looked like a model and was also a genius, Harry who had been there for you when Peter wasn’t and eventually took his place, maybe Harry was everything that Peter wasn’t. 

Peter only realized how worked up he was getting when he began to shake, his eyes widened as he looked at how his hands had formed into a fist and now were red thanks to all the pressure. He cleared his throat as he placed his hands on the pockets of his jeans and started walking away from the living room, maybe he could go to his old room in the tower although if he was being honest he wanted nothing more than to go to your room where he stayed most of the nights years prior.  

He remembered how you would open your window for him, especially designed for him to swing through swiftly. He remembered the nights where he would just crash your lips against yours and you would hum in response as both of you fell into your bed. He remembered also the early moments of your friendship, how you would go back to the penthouse excited after Tony had let you tried a new piece of tech, or maybe one of your works had worked. He remembered your laugh most of all, bouncing off the large walls and windows, how it would warm him up. 

But then Harry’s voice stopped him, “Woah, Woah”. Peter snapped around to see the tall boy walking towards him, “You can’t go anywhere big guy. Mrs. Potts doesn’t like it when not close people walk around”

Now it was a fact, Peter wanted to rip Harry apart. 

“I don’t need permission from Pepper to be here”, Peter retorted. He was a little bit glad that he was on a first-name basis with Pepper and Harry still weren’t, pried filled his chest as he looked at Harry staring blankly at him. 

It lasted a few second, Peter watch how Harry was examining his face and his stand. Then his eyes opened like plates and he gaped at Peter.

“Wait”, Harry muttered. “Are you-”

“-Peter Parker”, Peter stated as he glared at him. 

Was he being a little bit too standoff-ish? Yes, but at the moment he didn’t care, because it was his territory. He had been living in that penthouse for three years before the snap, he was basically family to the Stark’s and not even Harry could take that away from him. 

“I-Uhm- It’s nice to meet you”, Harry muttered as he offered Peter his hand. 

Peter looked down at it, somehow doubting Harry’s move but at the end of the day he knew nothing good would come up if he wasn’t polite. Hell, Peter was even polite to villains, although Harry had become his one. 

“It’s nice to meet you too”, Peter replied as he shook his hand, firmly. 

Harry pressed his lips into a tight smiled as he nodded. “Y/N, she talked about you, a lot.”

It wasn’t a complete lie. Harry had forgotten to even ask about Peter after the snap and since you never brought it up, it never crossed his mind that the love of your life was back. You had talked about Peter a few times, most of them ended in tears from your part and Harry had seen your social media was filled with pictures of Peter Parker, as well as the penthouse where Tony had photos of the three of you and all the other avengers. He knew how much Peter meant for you and now, although Harry wasn’t one that got nervous, he felt a shiver of panic running through his back as Peter let go of his hand.

“She talked about you; you were -uhm- are extremely especial for her”, Harry muttered.

Peter stared up at Harry, jarring silence filling the room as his heart rate increased. Harry’s eyes were blank and Peter felt stiff and uncomfortable, but another part of him felt a slight jolt of joy as Harry had mentioned how special he was for you and by how Harry was acting. Peter wanted to take the small charm that had the Iron-Spider-suit and jump from the window, maybe even swing from building to building while screaming of joy. You had talked about him, to the point that it seemed to make Harry uncomfortable. 

“Yeah…”, Peter said simply as he gave a step back. “I’m going to leave now…”

Before could even turn around completely, he bumped into Pepper. 

Pepper had this thing about her, she could be serious to the point of scary but she could also be the sweetest woman on earth. Pepper had become an important mother figure to Peter, and she got extremely well with May (who at first wasn’t a fan of Tony) to the point they would have a few talks over the more humanitarian side that Stark’s Industries needed or any new project that had Pepper busy. Moreover, Pepper was always there for both Peter and you, after every mission or school project, she had managed to make time for the both of you, which was impressive being CEO of SI. Peter was sure that Pepper knew he had feelings for you since he first arrived, she would give him these looks and he was sure that they had talked about it with May. 

When you finally told both Tony and Pepper, she was there to help Tony get more relaxed about your decisions and she was the one that gave Peter permission to sleep on your bed when Tony didn’t feel very comfortable, she would keep him off your room for the time that you guys were together. 

So, when Peter saw Pepper again (since he hadn’t really spoken to her at the funeral) he felt his heart clenching on his chest, the ache didn’t go away as she watched her. He hadn’t said anything to Pepper since Tony had died, anything. He hadn’t acknowledged the women who acted as a mother to him, how much she must be suffering from Tony’s death, and now your sudden role as leader of the Avengers. 

“I have been leaving messages, Peter”, Pepper said sternly, pulling her blonde straight hair behind her ears and he was sure he winced at her voice. 

“I’m -I …”, Peter stumbled through his words as he tried to phrase how sorry he actually was. “I’m sorry Pepper”, he finally said. 

She stared at him; a blank gaze was drawn but after a few seconds her features soften as she looked at the shy chocolate eyed boy. 

“It’s okay”, Pepper muttered giving him a light smile as she patted him on the shoulder and pulled him in for a small hug, which was short-lived as Pepper quickly turned to see Harry awkwardly standing there. “Harry, I’ll take Peter away but you can wait for her in the living room”

Peter watched Harry carefully who seemed dumbfounded at their recent interactions but as soon as Pepper talked to him he straightened himself and cleared his throat, giving her a charming smile. 

“That would be perfect”, he replied with a nod, muttering a quick ‘thank you’ before he turned around and walked to the couch again. 

Peter felt like a masochist as his eyes followed Harry, analyzing the way that he walked and wondered how you two actually looked like but Pepper didn’t give him much on an opportunity to ponder on his suffering from you. Quickly, walking away and telling Peter to follow her which forced Peter to remove his eyes from Harry who was taking a seat of the large living room again. 

“So, how have you been?”, Pepper said as soon as they got enough distance from the living room, the only sound on the hallway was the clicking of her heels. 

Peter smiled tightly at Pepper; he was not okay but he didn’t want to have any sort of conversation with Pepper where he would be the one to feel bad for himself. Not when Pepper had lost Tony. 

“I’m okay”, Peter lied.

Pepper contemplate him as she wrinkled her nose, “Well, you don’t look okay, Peter. Have you been sleeping?”, she replied as they got to her office. 

Peter wanted to answer and assured her that he had been sleeping and feeling well, happy to be back and grateful with Tony who had died for him to be there. But nothing came out, he simply shut his mouth and nodded.

“Yes, that was what I imagined”, Pepper chuckled as she opened the door. “Come in, I have to introduce you to someone”, Pepper said. 

Peter stood there for a few moments when Pepper moved, she could see the tiny human that was laying down in fairly modern and beautiful playpen. The toddler wiped her head around as soon as she heard Pepper and Peter and he felt like crying when her big-doe-brown eyes locked with Peter’s. 

Peter had not paid much attention to Morgan at the funeral, he was thinking only about you. He guessed that he would meet her eventually after you talked but it never happened. Nonetheless, he could tell that the little child was the spitting image of Tony Stark, Peter could tell that she was going to be smart beyond her years just like you and Tony and that she would have both of your wits and humor. 

“So, you want to meet your goddaughter?”, Pepper muttered as she looked sweetly at Peter.

Peter’s eyes opened like plates.

“Am -I am her godfather?”, Peter stuttered as he entered the large office and walked towards baby Morgan who watched him intently. 

“Yes, Tony wanted you to be the godfather and so did y/n”, Pepper answered and Peter felt her heart-warming, not even looking at Peter quickly kneeled to say hi to Morgan.

Peter didn’t know Morgan, he was afraid she was a little apprehensive because of how rapid he had kneeled and offered his hand to her. 

“Hi baby Stark”, Peter whispered at Morgan, who quickly responded with a wide toothy smile and she giggled. 

Opening her arms, she signaled for him to grab her from her playpen, and Peter followed suit at her request with a smile. She was as light as a feather to Peter, almost lighter and he easily placed her on one hand as she took a hold of his face and began examining him closely while Pepper watched wistfully. 

“Peter!”, Morgan suddenly blabbered and Peter was stunned, he wiped his head quickly to Pepper who laughed at his reaction while Peter chuckled too. 

“How -uhm?” Peter began but was cut off by Pepper. 

“Tony told her stories about you, so did y/n”, Pepper explained as she walked towards the large white sofa in her office and patted the space next to her for Peter to sit down. “Y/N wanted her to know who you were, so for the night stories she would often tell her about you and her.”

Peter felt his heart on his throat as he heard Pepper’s words. Every word that came out of her mouth was exactly what Peter wanted to hear, he was holding on to any hope for you and him, although deep down he knew he had to respect your choice, whether he liked it or not. 

 “I know that you are not okay Peter”, Pepper sighed, a woeful expression drawn on her face. “I’m so sorry you had to find it this way and everything that happened”

Peter nodded, trying to hold on to whatever sense of stability he had on him but it was useless as his eyes locked with Pepper, who had seen him both at his best and his worst. Peter sank on the couch as he placed baby Morgan on his chest who kept playing with his features, he felt like he had exhausted all his tears the last few weeks. 

“It’s just… everything hurts when I think about Y/N”, he whispered, his voice breaking. “I thought that… I just can’t deal with her choice”

“It was not entirely Y/N decision”, Pepper quickly said as her hand quickly ghosted his arm. She looked down biting her lip, Peter could see she was unsure of what she was going to say. “But you can’t understand how broken she was without you.”

Peter sniffle causing Morgan to stop playing with his features and watching him carefully, finally turning away from him to face Pepper. 

“Mommy, what happened?”, Morgan’s tiny voice made Peter’s heart skip a beat. She was so smart already and he let a genuine smile out. 

Pepper smiled too as she picked Morgan from Peter. “Uncle Peter is a bit sad, that’s all”, she explained, and then her eyes returned to Peter’s. “The first six months after the snap she just… she shut down Peter. We didn’t see her and nothing could get her out of that bed. We were so worried about her for months, we didn’t even know if she was going to make it. ”

“What?”

Peter had seen you after the fact, he had heard you when you said that you didn’t forget him and how Harry expressed how important he was for you, but he never expected you to be so lost without him. Peter always believed you were the stronger one on the relationship you had, he was the one following you like a puppy since he first met you and from then on, his feelings just grew to a point that when he finally kissed you and told you his feelings, he was sure his heart was going to explode. He had harbored his feelings for so long, he struggled to maintain them in a line when they were finally out. But you, you were so elegant and delicate with your feelings for Peter. He knew you loved him but being trained by spies from an early age may be helped you conceal your feelings longer or because of your personality, you seemed to be the master of limits. Peter never picture that you would fall apart so badly without him. 

“I’m not going to tell you that you aren’t allowed to feel that way”, Pepper continued, clearly shuddering at the memories of you at the time. “But I just want to say that you should forgive her because this world wouldn’t be right if you two aren’t together, at least as friends and partners”.

Peter stayed silent for a few seconds. It felt like the poisonous anger and the debilitating sadness that had overcome his body the last few weeks were being dissipated by Pepper’s words. The common anxiousness that overwhelmed Peter was neutralized by a second as he quite literally felt like he could face all his emotions, trying to immerse in processing the new information. He realized that you may not have done what he would do, he realized that being angry about the fact that he had snapped and you didn’t wouldn’t help anybody, he realized that not talking to you was being more hurtful for both of you. He realized that if he claimed to love you so much, he would be there unconditionally and he felt ashamed he hadn’t. 

Peter nodded, finally embracing every feeling he had and confronting himself. 

“I under-”, were the only words that Peter managed to get out of his mouth before the hairs in his arms quickly stood-up, he could feel the goosebumps erupting in his whole body as his head snapped at the windows that reached both the ceiling and the floor. 

He stood up without a word as Pepper watched bug-eyed, holding Morgan a little bit tighter. 

“Whats happe-”

Screamed began coming from the streets, they filled the room, and then a roar shook the city.

---

TAGLIST: @erindanus​ @spideylovin​ @zlamaneserca​ @bethanystan​ @cedricisnotonfire​ @eridanuswave​ @babebenhardy​ @lyzalovealk​

[queenofthelanternfish]

Disclaimer: New chapter upload from my lovely gf @anesther! I particularly love this chapter because I am completely biased since my baby girl Odessa is in here!!!

-

AN: Finally, she shows up.

Title: Interfaces

Characters: Entrapta, Hordak, featuring Odessa

Pairing: Entrapdak

Rating: G

Go to AO3 to read better.

                                                         Wedding

Odessa has been alive for three years.

There are lots of things she knows, despite her young age. Her mother says she will only continue to learn more, for life is a never-ending research project. Her father believes nothing can’t be achieved without patience, and sometimes a little force.

She learned how to read before she was even six months of age, according to Etherian standards. Her body is developing at a different rate than most children, she’s been told. There are similarities between her and children from Etheria, but she isn’t on the same level when it comes to mental and physical changes. She considers Emily and Imp to be her siblings, and she finds their presence comforting.

Her parents said she’s the most fascinating thing they’ve ever created.

Odessa likes to sit with her progenitors and watch them build machines, ranging anywhere from harmless technology, meant only to advance a field or lifeforms, to dangerous weapons, meant as a ‘just in case’ scenario. Her father is nothing, if not thorough, and, in her opinion, paranoid.

Her mother is an optimistic wonder, unable to view the negative in a situation for too long. She craves success, but she also knows to take her time with a particular feat. She is not without her limits, however, knowing there is a line that can be crossed if she is pushed beyond what she can take.

Odessa, Princess of Dryl, Heir to the Horde, believes her parents are an equally riveting aspect to life on the ship.

She had been perusing the small, if well-stocked and excellent, library that is kept at the back of the spacecraft. Emily and Imp usually follow her, and when they, inevitably, fall asleep from the relaxed atmosphere, Odessa learns as many new things as she is able.

For fun, she decided to read the dictionary. Normally, she wouldn’t. It’s a ‘baby step’ to knowledge, but when she desires laidback reading, she will pick that up. Scanning down the ‘W’ section, she came across the word ‘wedding.’ A noun, though an attributive one. Meaning any one of three definitions, but they all mean the same: a ceremony meant to celebrate the union of people, normally two.

She has heard of there being more than two, but the planets she has been to have, more or less, continued the tradition of monogamy. You would think with hundreds of planets, there would be some type of variation. Her mother said she expected more polyamorous couplings. Her father said most he’s found are often sexless, biological- and societal-wise, thus the concept of romantic partnership isn’t necessary.

But it gets her thinking. There is no doubt her parents love each other, and neither of them are overly sentimental. Well, her mother is. She likes to have pictures of cute things on her desk, and engages with possessing a keepsake or three, if they really mean a lot to her. Her father, not so much. He likes what he has, and that means his family. The only material item that matters is the gemstone engraved with First Ones lettering. Even if it didn’t have to be attached to him, Odessa knows he would never throw it out.

So she sits now, eyeing her creators with curious wide eyes.

Entrapta smiles at her, “Sweetie, can you hand me the drill?”

Quietly, she gives the tool to her mother’s outstretched tendril. Opting to remain standing, she jumps over to where they’re working, getting a closer view. Hunching over, knees to her chin, she observes the proper handling of the instruments. On occasion, they will allow her to try operating an apparatus, but while she is capable, her dexterity isn’t quite there yet.

They work in tandem with wordless expressions and motions, a sign of having known each other for a long time. She thrums her fingers on her kneecaps, absorbed in her typical pastime of inspection.

Entrapta looks up, hearing a beep from above, “Oh, it’s time for a snack!” Using her hair to propel her across the room, she opens the small pantry, kept here for quick breaks. Her hair extends back out to where they are, forming a small, circular seat, “Odessa, do you want to pick out what you want?”

Odessa hops on, swinging her feet. She points to fruit juice, potato chips, and a type of sour candy her father found for her when he went out to scope a more hostile territory that would not have boded well for her mother and her physically.

Coming back together, Odessa snaps back the tab on her soda, taking a plentiful sip. She hears Hordak give a small sigh. He prefers giving her a more balanced nutritional diet to keep her metabolic processes functioning correctly, but considering she needs more calories than any child he had in the Horde, he doesn’t complain, so long as she eats decent meals. Entrapta, as she put it, ate nothing but cake and soda for a long time, and she turned out fine.

He wasn’t too amused but he let it be.

“Did you learn anything in the library?” Entrapta asks, popping a potato chip into her mouth.

Odessa nods.

“Is that why you’ve been more quiet?” Hordak adds, setting down a beaker. He folds his arms across his chest, leaning against the table. “It must’ve been rather intriguing for you.”

Odessa answers with another nod.

Grabbing a notepad and pen, Entrapta places it in front of her daughter, “Can you write it out?”

Sucking on the hard candy, Odessa clicks the pen. Word complete, as well as definition, she holds it up for them to look at.

Hordak leans over Entrapta, the two of them reading it.

He turns to her, “What caught your attention about this word?”

Odessa flips over the page, scribbling her query, “Did you two have a wedding?”

Entrapta drinks her soda. Scratching her cheek, she looks up at her lab partner. She replies, “There didn’t seem to be a need for it, I suppose?”

“Why not?” she writes.

Hordak shrugs, “Your mother and I never discussed it. It’s not an event my species holds sacred, and as you know, many don’t. The concept of holding a celebration to pronounce a commitment is a waste of time. If desires and needs are met, and affection doesn’t dwindle, I don’t need to prove why with some fanciful get-together.”

“Same thoughts?” Odessa asks, pointing to the sentence with her pen, then at her mother.

Entrapta laughs, “I never thought about it! Weddings can be lovely, and there’s loads of delicious food, but it wasn’t something I’d demand.”

Odessa hums in understanding. Scribbling down on the notepad, she asks, “Would you ever want one?”

“I don’t think so. We kinda did it our own way,” Entrapta looks over her shoulder, eyes on Hordak’s face. “Your father proposed to me the moment he asked if I would leave Etheria behind, and travel the universe with him. That was all I ever wanted.”

A genuine smile comes onto his features.

Odessa mirrors it, pleased with the answers.

Entrapta drains the last bit of her soda, throwing away her bag of chips. Dusting off her hands, she asks, “Did you want us to do a wedding? Just to show you?” Shaking her head, Odessa writes, “Maybe one day. When I’m bored.”

That statement makes her parents burst out laughing. Her father even snorts, causing them to cackle harder.

Entrapta and Hordak resume their business. Satisfied with the afternoon’s impromptu lesson, Odessa yawns. Crawling over to a spot near the desk, she cuddles into a makeshift, tiny bed. She falls asleep to her parents’ talking, content.

[thorne93]

Unforeseen Chasm (Part 58)

Prompt: Two sisters fall for men that are absolute enemies. The love they have could tear all of them apart, or it could bring them together.

Word Count:1768

Warnings: Language, pain, grief, no sleeping or eating reader Song for this part: I’ll never love again- Lady Gaga Note: This is by far the longest thing I’ve ever written (including my novels). It’s a collaboration with the amazing @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo​​. It started as a funny “What if…?” and it evolved and got huge. This took two years to write. We are both proud and happy and we hope you enjoy it. It follows from Thor 1 to Endgame in the MCU. Some of the timelines may be off in order to fit certain people, and some characters may show up earlier or in different ways than they have in the movie. But for the most part, it follows the MCU. It also has a bit of crossover with some other Marvel characters throughout the story.

Masterlist for Unforeseen Chasm

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

When all was said and done, you were back at the Avengers compound. 

Everyone remaining of the team had been gathered up. It appeared that Nat, Steve, Rhodey, Bruce, and Shannon were all still okay. Shannon was a relief, they all were really -- your friends, but Loki… Loki vanishing before you… that nearly killed you. 

It’d been two days now.

Nat had tried to reach out to Clint multiple times with nothing. Shannon had tried sending a signal to Tony’s transponder endlessly since she boarded the jet back home and there was no response. 

As for you, you were consumed with both grief and obsession. Thanos was alive, he was still out there somewhere, with the stones. You were in Shannon’s lab, searching. You began to try and trace the remnants of the stones. You started with the location of the snap and then went from there, trying to trace each stone. Part of the mind stone flowed in your veins, so you let the system take a bit of your blood, so that it could maybe find it somewhere on the planet, in the galaxy, in the universe. Thanos had to be somewhere. 

You worked day and night. Shannon tried to get you to eat, as did Steve, but each time they came in, you simply muttered a vague response of not being hungry. Towards the end of the second day, Shannon was way past worried. Between wringing her hands on if Tony was alive, dead, or vanished and watching you spiral into madness, she was at her wits end. 

“Y/N!” she barked when you refused a sandwich late at night. “This is quite enough! You need rest. You need sleep. Do you think Loki would want you killing yourself to find him?” she implored as she walked forward and tried to touch your shoulder.

Your eyes never left the map though as you continued working through physics equations, mathematical probabilities of where Thanos might’ve gone. 

“Yes,” you muttered mindlessly, not really paying attention to her. 

“No he wouldn’t! I didn’t know him as well as you, and we may have had our differences, but both of us love you and want you to be happy and healthy. Y/N… Y/N… Y/N!” She shouted, grabbing your shoulders and forcing you to look at her. Finally, the trance was broken. You were looking at her, paying attention to her, listening. “Do you see yourself? You’re a zombie. You’re entirely consumed with… with this! You’re not going to find him, and even if you do, what are you going to do? We lost… and that was with all of us. What do you think will happen?” she begged. 

“I don’t care,” you defiantly said, pulling yourself from her grasp, going back to your work. “I will fight him alone if I have to. I have to get those stones back,” you muttered, falling back into the frenzy of madness, refusing to be rational. 

“Y/N, come on, this isn’t healthy. You’re going out of your mind. You can’t face him alone. Loki wouldn’t want this.” 

“Loki isn’t here!” you suddenly roared, dropping your pencil down. “He isn’t here! None of them are! Because of Thanos! Don’t you see? I have to find him! I have to! He’s taken everything from me. First, he took you, then he took all of my friends, now… Now he has literally taken the love of my life and most of my friends. Don’t you see I have to do this? I have to find him.” The mania had broken. Your eyes were alive with chaos and heartbreak. How did Shannon not see that Thanos needed to be stopped? 

All she did was eye you with sorrowful pity before pulling you into a tight embrace. 

“Killing yourself to find him won’t do it… We’ll take turns, yeah?” she offered with a smile as she pulled away. “I’ll stay up, run some numbers, watch the simulation… We can find him, but I want you to go get some sleep… Please? You can’t think correctly or find anyone on no sleep.” 

Hesitantly, you agreed. She was right. You explained which probabilities you were running quickly before Steve offered to show you to a room. You thanked him as he put his hand on your shoulder and guided you.

-----------------------

You were lying in a room they’d made up for you, you think it was the one next to Wanda’s but at that moment in time, nothing mattered - not eating, drinking, or showering. You were tired. The grief made you tired, more tired than you think you’d ever felt in your life, but your obsession kept you going. Now that you’d actually laid down though, you were exhausted.

Grief hit you harder than any physical pain you’d ever endured. Which meant all of the things you needed to do to keep you alive and healthy vanished when Loki did. Your will to live had absolutely been obliterated. 

Things had been rough all around. Everyone was still trying to find people they knew. Shannon had kept a front when the team was together but they all knew this was hitting her hard not knowing if Tony and the kid had been dusted or not. 

Shannon walked into your room like she did every day to give you updates but this time around was different. After she went in she sat at the edge of her bed. Shannon had been busy looking for the people you all loved and cared for. You were tracking down the enemy. No one had found anything.

You moved the covers of your bed and patted the spot next to you. She got in and you both leaned close to each other. “How’s it going?” she asked, barely audible.

“You know exactly how it’s going,” you deadpanned, the tiniest hint of anger in your voice. You weren’t angry at her, per se, but angry at the situation and mad that she could think you were any better off than a few days ago. “How about you? Any word on Tony? Strange? Peter? Any of them?” you wondered, grasping for any kind of spark of hope or happiness.

“I know, I’m sorry.” She looked down at her hands wishing she could do more. “No. Still no word about either of them, the transponder is still not sending a signal.” She seemed to shrink down into the bed. “I wish there was some clue you know? I don’t even know if Parker is...if he’s—” She shut down a bit not wanting to think about the very real possibilities.

You reached over and grabbed her hand. “We will find them. Somehow.” 

“There’s only so much hope we can have and I'm trying my hardest to keep strong for everyone, you know?” She squeezed your hand looking up at you. “They keep looking to me as if though I’m Tony and there’s that pager beeping with still no clue as to who it's meant for...”

“Because you’re just like him,” you said with the smallest of smiles. “That’s why he married you. You two are two peas in a pod. You're the idea people. You two share a brain, I swear. He moves, you move. He thinks of something and you finish the thought. If you have an idea, he helps make it a reality. You two are perfect for each other. But above all of that, you’re what usually holds this team together, Shan. They need you for guidance and ideas. Steve lost Sam and Bucky, and now with Tony… He has you and Nat, that’s it. The rest of them, they need you.” 

Shannon looked up to you from her wedding ring. “I’m not sure I know what to do though...like you said part of my brain is missing and I’m scrawling to figure this out. I need your help Y/N/N, how do I do this? Where do I start, who can I question when there’s no clues?” She leaned her head on your leg, at some point moved so far down that she was practically covered by the duvet. “I just wish this was some sick joke or nightmare and that we’ll wake up to the guys walking in with breakfast for us after a long night of being at the lab.” Her voice cracked. 

“Believe me, if wishes alone could’ve brought them back… they’d all be here by now by me alone.” You started to cry, your never ending habit lately. You swore you cried more than you breathed lately. “I miss him so much, you know? I wish I knew how to help you, Shan, I really do, but all I can think of is how to get to Thanos, how to maybe get everyone back and I… I’m not getting anywhere.” You sighed heavily. “I’m sorry I’m such a let down. I wished I could do one thing. I could’ve fought Thanos. I should’ve been fighting him. Not Steve and Bucky and you and Wanda. It should’ve been me. You told me to protect everyone… I didn’t do that. I failed you, I failed everyone.  Hell, I failed the whole universe.” 

“No, Y/N/N, don’t think that! I wish we could both hide in here but I know Steve wouldn't let me.” She peaked from under the covers. “Feels like you can’t breathe? Like there’s a literal part that's not functioning right? There’s so many things I wish I had done differently, you know?” She pulled you closer to her. “I know we’ll find a way to bring them back. Just too much to handle right now.”

“I’m not so sure about that. I also think Steve knows better than to come bother me right now, he may lose his life over it. Not to mention, I’m not essential. I don’t think anyone would miss me if I were gone, besides you.” You sighed. “You wish you had done things differently?” You scoffed. “I let Thanos get away. I should’ve just left Proxima alone. I should’ve been guarding Vision, not Wanda. There are a million things I could’ve done differently to give us a different turn out. But most of the time, yeah… I can’t breathe.” 

“I know,” she concurred, her voice thick. 

You tried to swallow your sobs for just a moment before you turned to her and said, “But there is still hope for you. Don’t let go of that.” 

“I’m trying not to, but it’s hard. And I have to lead this team, but I’m losing hope every minute Tony isn’t here.” 

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

Tag List: @essie1876​ @magpiegirl80​ @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked​ @iamwarrenspeace​ @marvel-imagines-yes-please​ @superwholocked527 @missinstantgratification​ @thejemersoninferno​ @rda1989​ @munlis​ @thefridgeismybestie​​ @bubblyanarocks3​​ @igiveupicantthinkofausername​​ @kaliforniacoastalteens​ @feelmyroarrrr​​ @kaelingoat-blog​ @friendlyneighbourhoodweirdo​​ @damalseer​​ @heyitscam99​​ @yknott81​​ @sorryimacrapwriter​​ @glitterquadricorn​​ @xxqueenofisolationxx @little-dis-kaalista-pythonissama @bittersweetunicorm​​ @alyssaj23​​ @sea040561​​ @princess76179​​ @thisismysecrethappyplace​​ @sarahp879​​ @malfoysqueen14​​ @ellallheart​​ @breezy1415​​ @marvelmayo​​ @random-fluffy-pink-unicorn @cocosierra94 @hardcollectionworldtrash @capsmuscles​ @marvelloushamilton @paintballkid711​

Loki: @lostinspace33​​

@ultrarebelheart​​ @lenawiinchester​​ @esoltis280​​ @tngrayson​​ @wangdeasang​​ @harrymewmew @jayfantasyatyourservice​​

UC: @lokis-high-priestess​

[oddeyecadia]

back to square one

read on ao3

Pidge was stubborn.

She was not supposed to enter the Garrison with uneven chopped off hair, her brother's glasses and her mother's confidence then change her name and create a new identity for it was technically against the law.

But she did.

When she finally got a lead into finding her brother, all logic was immediately thrown away as she hopped onto green without hesitation. For practicality and her own safety, Shiro suggested that she shouldn't go alone.

But she did.

Allura's sacrifice left the universe safe but broke the hearts of many. Though, no one was as broken as Lance who mourned alone and specifically told everyone that he wanted to be alone as he tried his hardest not to let anyone break his walls.

But she did, just like what he did to hers when they were only cadets.

A lot could change in three years. Feelings even.

The world had stopped, his feet on the sand and view of the sun setting completely forgotten as he stared at another sunset colored view. Whoever decided that brown wasn't as gorgeous as the other eye colors were either blind or just a whole idiot. All of Lance's life he used to think sunset was the most beautiful view but seeing Pidge's eyes, the sun had some competition.

Their faces were so close that he could see every little freckle on her face. He felt her breath touch his lips and he shivered. His voice came out softer than it should, "I'm still a mess, Katie. You shouldn't."

But she did, he was glad she did.

The team found a way to possibly bring Allura back. Laws of physics were hard to battle with but if being a part of Voltron ever teach them anything other than becoming stronger, it was that everything fictional can be turned into reality. So, they figured it out– time travel.

It required several complicated technology. First, a wormhole, then a power crystal, a lot of patience, and some other parts that he completely missed because of so many thoughts clouding his mind.

They were getting Allura back. Seeing her smile wouldn't only just be limited to his dreams now. The thought filled his chest with a familiar warmth, though it felt a little different. It wasn't as strong as when he last had it.

After everything was built, there was one last thing that they needed in order for the plan to succeed.

A team. The standard Garrison flight team, a group of three who would go into the wormhole and execute the plan, travel back in time in their own universe and prevent Allura from sacrificing herself.

A highly dangerous task, not only because they were going to be meddling with the laws of space and time, but also because there was only an 80% chance that the teludav would work. Sure, the Holts have stabilized earth teludavs for travel when it came to distance, but time was another thing. There was still a 20% chance that whoever would enter it may never come back.

No one in the Atlas even bat an eye when Shiro volunteered to be in the mission first. Some showed a look of concern, but there weren't any look of surprise in sight. Then, he asked Keith to come with him, in which he accepted without hesitation. A lot could change in five years, some dynamics stayed the same, though. Lance chuckled to himself.

When Shiro's eyes fell on him, a sense of understanding came through. It made sense for Lance to be a part of the team, he was the closest to Allura next to Coran. He knew what to do and what not to do in order for the mission to succeed.

Out of the corner of his eyes, a familiar small figure stood up before he could even move.

His breath stopped. Most of the time, Pidge showing her daring personality would make butterflies fill Lance's stomach up to his chest. Right then, it made the butterflies tear down his organs.

"Pidge, don't." He begged, desperately.

But she still did it.

Her calloused hands lacked warmth, but he provided, holding it gently as he watched her chest rise and fall continuously. The cold metal seat beside her bed was rather uncomfortable, but he couldn't care less. Nothing but the humming of machine filled the silence of the infirmary.

God, he missed her voice. He would do anything to hear her laugh, rambles, even her snarky yet endearing remarks again.

The moment they turned on the teludav, his gut immediately told him to try and stop the team's shuttles to enter it. He did not listen to it, unfortunately.

When the shuttles entered slowly, chaos occurred faster than what his eyes could see. All he could remember was the teludav shutting down, horrified shouts of panic as the wormhole released an insane amount of power and almost destroyed Pidge's shuttle, almost destroyed her.

Red. Everything was red.

Tightening his hold of her hand, the memory of her pale and almost lifeless body in his arms flashed through his mind. An uncomfortable shiver ran down his spine. It had been almost a week,  a week of him watching a stupid machine count her heartbeat, hoping that her eyes would open with every rise of her heart rate. It was kind of ironic how just a month ago, he was practically begging her to take a nap.

"It's 2 am, Pidge."

"And?" Her hand continued to type something on her tablet before zooming in on a picture of the plant in front of her. Scanning it carefully, her eyes blinked slowly once, twice.

Lance let out a sigh. "Sleep. Please?" He wrapped his arms around her from the back, resting his head on top of hers and his chin almost hitting the bobby pins he put on her hair earlier. "Come on, I'll let you hog both blankets tonight." He never restricted her from hogging any blanket ever. Why they had two was the result of Pidge hogging their blanket multiple nights, they decided to get another so they could have one each. She ended up hogging both of them.

Putting down her tablet, she seemed to ease up, melting into his embrace. "Play with my hair until I fall asleep and you got yourself a deal."

Kissing her head, he couldn't help but chuckle. "Anything for you, hermosa."

His eyes never left her petite form, he was so focused, desperately looking for signs of her awaking that he didn't even notice someone had entered the room.

"Lance, you should eat." He recognized the voice without looking.

"Maybe later, Veronica."

"You said that earlier." The sound of footsteps approached him. A hand then reached his shoulder but he didn't flinch. "Come on, she'll be okay."

They both knew it wasn't the truth, but it wasn't a lie either. Earth healing pods did so little to help her heal. All her physical bruises and cuts were nowhere to be seen, making her look like she was just taking a nap after a long day, but internal damages were still there and no one was sure when or if she would wake up.

"I don't want her alone when she wakes up."

His sister sighed. "She'd want you to chose your health over her, you know?"

He flinched at her words.

Everyone was working hard to perfect everything for the mission, but Lance was working harder than anyone. He made sure to help in building the teludav in any way he could. He stayed up all day and night helping Coran and Shiro plan everything out as if the idea of rest did not exist. He would get frustrated whenever there was a day without progress, blaming himself for not trying hard enough, for letting Allura sacrifice herself in the first place. If he had only held her tighter, made her happy enough to stay.

He was back to square one.

He was losing himself and the people around him again.

Even the one he cared about the most.

"You don't understand, Pidge!" Lance swung his arm like a mad man.

"I do understand! We all want Allura back and we're doing everything we can as fast as our bodies can handle." She stepped closer, trying to soften her tone but failing miserably after the first word. "You're the one who used to tell me all the time that overworking is bad and shit while yours here obviously need some fucking rest. Stop being a hypocrite, Lance, you don't need to torture yourself like this!"

It was supposed to be a peaceful night. She invited him to her lab to help with some last minute adjustments for the mission. In the middle of progress, she suggested for them to take a break, get some sleep and continue tomorrow for a day was enough to get everything settled. On normal days, he would be relieved to know that his overworked significant other finally understood how important taking breaks were.

That night, he was the one who refused. One thing led to another and then they were screaming at each other as if they weren't five feet apart.

"You just don't want all of this to work, not as much as I do!" His voice cracked.

"Wha– May I remind you that this mission was my idea! I'm the one working my butt off just to mimic an altean teludav, why the quiznack would you think I don't want this to work?"

"I don't know, maybe because once Allura's back, you're afraid I'm gonna choose her over you?"

Pidge froze.

The look of pure shock on her face calmed him down, but the tears forming in her eyes was what made him finally come to his senses. Realization hit and regret washed over him.

"Katie..." He breathed, voice shaking, "That's not what I meant."

Her hands clenched so hard, nails could mark her skin. It looked like she was about to scream but took a deep breath instead. Fists slowly opening, her eyes softened, trying to blink away the tears but ending up making them fall down her cheek. A lump formed in his throat.

All he wanted to do right then was cup her face and wipe all her tears away. So he did. His heart dropped to his stomach when she immediately pulled away from his touch.

"Don't worry, I've already accepted my faith as a fucking consolation price. What am I compared to your first love, right?" She held herself tightly the way she would whenever she was missing her family or losing hope during the war. The urge to embrace her got stronger but he held himself back.

When he finally found his voice again, it came out unbelievably weak. "Consolation price? What, you think I'm using you as a rebound?"

"Am I not?" She scoffed.

"No!" The anger somehow came back. This time, it wasn't at her, but purely at himself and he couldn't do anything but scream it out. "Dammit, Katie, you think I would go that low? You're not a rebound! I've never–"

"Well, it doesn't feel like it! You barely talked to me these past few weeks and when you do, it's either about this mission or nothing else." Her voice cracked as well as something in his chest. Her shoulders were trembling then, more and more tears fell from her expressive eyes. "I trust that you wouldn't do something like that, Lance, I do. I just couldn't help but feel like I'm fifteen again, pining over a friend who couldn't fucking see me even though I'm right in front of them the whole time. It's like I'm back to square one and it sucks!"

An uncomfortable, heavy silence filled the room. Lance opened his mouth but nothing came out of it.

She was feeling like that all this time and he didn't even notice. Even the small changes, were the bags under her eyes always that big? Why was her hair messier than usual? Oh, right. He would usually fix it for her whenever he would catch her at her lab during lunch time. When was the last time he had checked up on her? His chest got heavier as he realized that he couldn't remember.

Pidge was not a consolation price. She was his everything, but he hadn't been treating her like she was and that made him sick. He didn't even realize he was crying until he looked down and the tears finally dropped.

She broke the heavy silence with another humorless scoff. "Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if you do end up choosing her. I'm more concerned about you choosing her over your damn self again." A beat. "You're important too, Lance. You don't have to break yourself."

Pidge aggressively rubbed her nose on the sleeve of her lab coat before walking away. Lance couldn't do anything but watch her back, leaving him feeling emptier than a void.

"It's my fault"

"No." Veronica pulled a chair beside her brother and looked him dead in the eye. "We talked about this. It wasn't your fault the teludav was unstable."

"Still, I shouldn't have let her go to that mission. I should have tried harder to reason with Shiro to let me join the team instead but I didn't!"

"Lance, listen to me, it is not your fault she chose to be a part of it."

His eyes started to sting. "It is. She knew the teludav wasn't a hundred percent safe, she knew Shiro would pick me to be on the mission, she knew and she took my place. God, I should have told her to stay when we met at the hangar–"

"There was no other choice, she knew every part of the shuttles and the teludav more than any of us. We all knew it wasn't a hundred percent safe and it would never be because of how primitive earth technology is, that's why we only put three people in the mission. We had to take risks."

Risking her life for another wasn't worth it, even if it was Allura. The Princess sacrificed herself just for them to live, it would go against everything that she did for the universe if even one of them give up their life. He would rather have all his efforts go to waste than lose Pidge. Not once did he not regret how it took him almost losing her just for him to realize this.

Minutes before the mission, Lance found himself walking to the shuttle's hangar. It could be his imagination but his feet were heavier than usual.

Still, he wanted to see her.

It was only yesterday when they had their big fight but that didn't mean their little tradition shouldn't be done. It was kind of their thing whenever one of them was part of a mission or just having a trip, whether out of town or out of earth, they would do something sappy. If they were in a public place like an airport, the one getting left behind would have to create a scene, pretending like they haven't confessed their feelings and they got to before the other could get on the plane, just like in every classic 2000s romcom which both Lance and Pidge were a fan of. Though, Pidge just liked them only because they were easy to make fun of.

Whenever they were alone, though, they would just give each other see you later kisses until one of them really had to go.

Perhaps they wouldn't be able to do that right then because of their recent misunderstandings, but he at least wanted to wish her a safe flight.

Pidge in her old Voltron uniform was the first thing he saw when he entered the hangar. Earth armors were no where near as advance as the Altean ones so the former paladins had the smart decision to keep theirs in case of highly dangerous missions like this happening.

His heart skipped a beat at the sight. It was weird yet somehow nostalgic seeing her in that green armor again. In a way, she looked different yet still wonderfully the same. She grew a little taller, had a little more figure, but she still had those big curious eyes and short hair, though, a little less choppy. Many have praised her "glow up," saying things like late puberty really turned her from an ugly duckling to a swan. This claim had always confused Lance because for him, she had always been beautiful.

"Hey."

She turned to him, helmet in hand, with wide eyes as if his presence was unexpected. "Lance, hi."

"Everything settled?" He took a careful step closer.

"Mhm. Just waiting for Shiro's command."

For the the first time in forever, Lance was at lost for words. Usually, this would be the time he would give her a big hug and kiss her everywhere, but the atmosphere was telling him otherwise. The fight was still fresh for both of them and he could tell just by the way she was avoiding eye his eyes. They weren't screaming, though, that was a good sign.

He found his voice again after a moment. "You're not gonna tie your hair back?"

At this point, he was just desperate for any conversation to happen. His question was genuine, though. After the war, Pidge specifically chose to keep her hair short. She tried growing it out the first few months of post Voltron but with all the Garrison work and the stress of rebuilding earth, she really didn't have time to take care of her hair.

Whenever she wouldn't have the time to chop it off, she would just stick to tying it half up half down. Sometimes, Lance would help her out and play with her hair, doing small braids and styling which both of them enjoyed. He'd usually style it in a way that her bangs wouldn't bother her.

Pidge blew her bangs away from her face. "I mean, it would get messed up by the helmet anyway."

"You sure? You're not gonna throw a tantrum once your bangs fall on your face in a difficult situation?" He was already searching his pockets for bobby pins. There was two.

She let out a hearty laugh for the first time since yesterday and he never felt so blessed. "That I won't guarantee."

"Can I?"

"Yes, please."

Lance then grabbed a bobby pin and carefully put her bangs away from her face. He used his teeth to open up a pin before securing it on her hair. "There." He said, gently tucking a side of hair to her ear.

Their eyes met. "Thanks." She said softly.

For a moment, he though she was going to say something. Lance himself was hesitant to even move even though he was dying to kiss her right then and there. If only the weight of yesterday's argument could be thrown away even just for a second, he would hold her tight in his arms and tell her how sorry he was, but something was telling him that it wasn't the time... or was it? "Katie..."

"5 minutes before take off! Team, time to get on the ship." Shiro's voice bombarded the speakers in the hangar.

Pidge took a deep breath. "Well, I better go." She gave a small smile.

"Y–Yeah. Yeah, of course."

After a beat, she gave him a nod and immediately turned back. Lance's hand itched, he wanted nothing more but to grab her hand and pull her in his arms but she was already walking away. She wasn't gonna turn back and his heart sunk at the thought.

His fist clenched. Perhaps the atmosphere wasn't right, the fight was still clear in their heads but they were adults god dammit, they were better than this, Lance was better than this. If he wanted to say something then he would.

He was about to open his mouth when she suddenly stopped. Dropping her helmet, Pidge ran to his arms, wrapping her short ones around his neck. He held her with all his strength, burying his face onto her shoulder.

It was just like the movies but better. Maybe they weren't gonna break tradition after all.

"You couldn't resist me, huh?" He asked fondly and felt her chuckle.

"Obviously"

A moment later, they finally pulled away yet stayed so close as if it would be a sin to move away even just a little.

"I'm gonna bring her back." Pidge said, looking straight into his eyes. There was determination in her voice and it somehow scared him for a reason he couldn't tell.

He cupped her face tenderly. "Just promise you'll come back safely too, yeah?"

"Lance..."

"Please."

A heavy sigh, then a nod. "If– When I come back, we're gonna fix this, fix us, okay?"

Lance kissed her forehead as a subtle promise. "We will."

"I love you, Katie." He didn't say it the last time and it was another thing to add to Lance's list of biggest regrets.

He tightened his hold of her hand. Lance was both quite vocal and physical when showing affection to someone, but with Pidge, it was a little different. They had this unspoken rule that I love yous would only be said during intimate moments and never used as an indirect good bye. Not once did they said it during their sappy see you later shenanigans.

She wanted their I love yous to be special and he respected that. Sometimes though, he really just wanted scream it to the world. In this case, say it to her multiple times in hopes of her getting annoyed unconsciously and waking up to maybe pout at him. He really was desperate.

They were alone once again. Veronica left a while ago to get some food. It took a lot of convincing, but he eventually agreed to at least have some snack only because Hunk was back on earth and was preparing some food for everyone. Hunk knew about what happened prior to his visit and was as- or even more -devastated as everyone. He went to check on Pidge three days after the incident and of course, a few tears were shed, but immediately forced himself to get his crap together because he believed- knew she would be okay. Lance had been telling himself the same thing over and over again. For the first few days, he was full of hope but as the days passed, it started to fade slowly.

Lance gave her hand a soft kiss. "I love you so much. Please, hermosa, wake up and say it back."

Pidge was stubborn.

Every doctor said the chances of her waking up after the incident was little to none. Her heart rate wasn't supposed to rise, she wasn't supposed to move and open her eyes, weakly hold his hand back and call out his name softly.

But she did, he was glad she did.

For Lance, it felt like they were back to square one and surely this time, he would use this fresh start to do everything that he wasn't able to.

Starting with loving her better.

[we-are-the-rebellion]

Everything Is Gonna Be Fine - File 001

Date: 14/4/215

Outgoing message: Hello? Hello? Can anyone hear me? Is there anyone in the wasteland listening to me? Fuck, this is hopeless...  We don’t even know if people are alive out there, we’ve never left the region because of the horror stories we’ve heard. CeeCee are you sure? ...Yeah, right. Ahem! I’m Nate, I’m from the Eastern OQ region, and for the last ten years I’ve been fighting in, well to put it lightly, a pretty nasty civil war. The group I was with has been mostly killed or captured and our leader is missing, presumed dead. Please, if someone is out there and can hear this, we need supplies. Wait what’s- Shit! CeeCee get down they found- 

___________________________

Date: 10/6/215

Location: Prison Complex, Ottowa, Ontario-Quebec Region

   Nate sat, unmoving in the uncomfortable wooden chair he was cuffed to, staring at the woman across from him. She was sitting casually, one leg crossed over the other, smoking a cigarette. Everything about her said “status,” her perfectly styled hair, her polished gold jewelry, her immaculately manicured nails, her expensively tailored black dress, even the cigarette. Alcohol and tobacco weren’t rare, but it was exceedingly difficult to find anything of any quality if you weren’t at the absolute top of the food chain. This woman was beautiful, powerful, and everything about her sent a very clear message that she didn’t give a damn about Nate. Of course, he was used to this. From day one, the rich looked down on him. His parents got into the government to spread compassion and acceptance and encourage reform, it was only inevitable that they would be killed off and their name dragged through mud.

   The woman flicked her cigarette onto the floor and put it out with her heel. 

   “So. Not willing to talk yet?” she asked, checking her nails. Nate chuckled.

   “I’ve seen more interrogators in the last three weeks than I’ve had birthdays, there’s no way some rich old bag is going to make me talk.”  He swallowed. Life, he really sounded like Kenji, didn’t he?

   “Rich old bag?” she laughed.  “I’d heard you were an idiot, but I never thought you would be blissfully ignorant. Don’t you realize who I am?”  Nate gritted his teeth.

   “Of course I know who you are.”  She smiled in response, the corner of her lip twisting up in a nauseatingly smug smirk.

   Genevieve Ashworth. The Empress of the medical sector. A person so genuinely hateful that even the other monsters she rubbed elbows with on a daily basis lived in awe of her cruelty.

   “Why you? Why did Pryce send you to make me talk?”  She shrugged.

   “Because he knew I could. Simple as that.”

   “So now what? You going to electrocute me? Hold my head underwater until I can’t breathe? Or maybe you’ll do something more suited to your regular style and inject me with a deadly disease and dangle the fucking cure over my head until I tell you everything?”  She stared him down silently.  “Or are you going to use me as a lab rat to test your new drugs and vaccines on? And fuck, the real torture would be the knowledge that you wouldn’t even use them for good!” he shouted, leaning forward and wincing as the handcuffs bit into his hand. Huh, he really did sound like Kenji...

   “I’m not going to hurt you, Nathaniel.” she replied after a long silence. The lack of any emotion in her voice sent a shiver down Nate’s spine. She lit another cigarette and stood up, circling around the small room to stand behind him. To his surprise, she pulled out a key and uncuffed his hands. He rubbed his sore wrist tenderly with his left hand, the cool metal of his prosthetic hand soothing the stinging skin.  “I’ve seen Carson’s interrogations, and frankly I think he’s got the wrong idea. Torture isn’t universal, some people just don’t respond to physical pain in the way he wants. Your friend Hirayama was a perfect example of that. No, your methods have to be tailored for your subject if you want results. After all, we didn’t get the leader of the rebellion to abandon his entire life’s work just because we beat him senseless.” 

   Nate felt a pit form in his stomach. If Kenji had been captured and tortured, it would explain his disappearance. But what did she mean by abandoning his life’s work? 

   “What is this?” he muttered, defensively keeping his hands at his sides.

   “We have tapes of his interrogations. In fact, I wanted to show them to you, so sit back and get comfortable.” 

   She pulled a small remote control out of her pocket and pressed a button, turning on a projector on the far wall. Nate turned around to see what it was showing. It was security camera footage of two armed guards standing in front of a man who, despite the blurry footage, was clearly Kenji. One of the guards knelt in front of Kenji, the other pulled out a small voice recorder.

   “October 16, 214. Subject; K. A. Hirayama.”

   Wait... This was last year?

   “Tell us, cunt, where were you on the day your friends blew up a city block?” the first guard growled.

   “Your wife’s bedroom.” Kenji snapped, spitting in the guard’s face. The guard hissed and hit his prisoner across the face. Kenji coughed and Nate could see blood. 

   “Cooperate, else that’s gonna feel like a kiss in comparison to what I’m gonna do to you.”  Kenji chuckled.

   “My ex accused me of being a masochist. Guess she’s right, since I really, really want you to hit m-”  He was cut off by the guard hitting him again, much harder than before. Where there was only a little blood on his bottom lip before, now there was blood everywhere, gushing out of his nose and his split lip. The second guard stepped closer to him.

   “Aren’t you tired of this? We’ve been doing this song and dance for nearly a week.” 

   A week? How the fuck had Kenji been gone for a week and he couldn’t remember it? Did nobody bother to check where he was? 

   “I am tired. But I’d rather let you shoot my balls off one by one than let you anywhere near my revolution.

   “You think quite highly of yourself, don’t you?”  Kenji scoffed.

   “As if you rich pricks don’t all think of yourselves as fucking royalty.”  The first guard hit him again, shutting him up effectively. 

   “But what have you done, really? You’ve gotten scores of people killed in this war you started, and nothing is better. Your friends aren’t in better positions than they were twenty years ago, in face they’re doing considerably worse now that the threat of being arrested and killed is constantly looming over their heads. Nothing is better for people like you. Twenty years of fighting tooth and nail, and you haven’t accomplished anything.” the guard taunted him, motioning for their counterpart to step back. Kenji spit the blood out of his mouth.

   “People have hope. That’s a start. And more importantly they’re seeing through your bullshit propaganda! Even if I’m gone, even if you kill my rebellion, in a month or two people will start a new one, because they realize that things could be better. How’s that for what I’ve fucking accomplished.”

   The footage ended.

   “So you’ve made your point, pain doesn’t work. Now what?” Nate snapped, folding his arms and scowling. Genevieve blew out smoke into his face.

   “I was hoping we could move on from that talking point. There’s still more tapes, and if you’re worried you’ll get bored of interrogations then you should quite like them.”  Life, Nate hated this woman so fucking much. She pressed another button and a new video began. It was Kenji again, brutally beaten and stumbling around outside the prison complex. The camera was posted high on the wall, giving Nate a perfect bird’s eye view of Kenji’s awful condition. He was looking over his shoulder, anxious, and he had a phone held up to his ear.

   “Pick up, fuck pick up...” he was muttering. He slumped down against the wall and winced, tenderly holding his bleeding side.  “Finally, you fucking answered!” he snapped into the phone.  “I need you to send someone to come pick me up, I’m at the prison. I don’t have much time, I... What do you mean you don’t fucking believe me?”  Nate couldn’t hear the other side of the conversation, but he didn’t need to. He remembered that call. His stomach twisted into knots. Whatever was going to happen next, it was his fault.  “Oh so that’s it? You’re pissy that I didn’t show up so you’re gonna let me fucking rot here? Life, you’re such a fucking moron! I’m in danger, Nathaniel, I don’t have time to argu- Don’t hang up on me you fuck- DAMMIT!”  He threw his phone on the ground with enough force to break it. He leaned his head against the wall and looked up at the sky, looking angry, hurt and exhausted.  “I know you’re watching this, you elite shits. Having fun watching me bleed out?” he shouted sarcastically at the security camera. Nate felt sick. That was why he hadn’t noticed Kenji was gone. He had been avoiding him anyways, they had been fighting. He had let his stupid emotional bias get in the way, and Kenji had gotten hurt because of it. This was Genevieve’s plan, wasn’t it? To make him feel like shit. 

   The footage cut again, and the next video after it was back in the interrogation room. Kenji was being held up by one of the guards from before while the other shocked him with a taser. He was screaming, but his voice was so hoarse that it was clearly hurting him every time he opened his mouth. 

   “You know, we were going easy on you before, we only broke a few bones. You still managed to escape, and you even took down a couple guards. Now? Now, we’re going to make sure you wouldn’t be able to walk out of here if the doors were wide open.” the guard with the taser said as they walked around, fiddling with the settings.  “Let’s see how you like the highest setting, eh revolutionary?” 

   Nate had to look away. He didn’t want to see Kenji in that much pain, especially knowing that he could have stopped it from happening. But he heard it... He could hear the man he cared about so damned much, despite everything, screaming. His hoarse voice didn’t impact the volume, it was so loud, so intense. Nate couldn't handle hearing Kenji in that much agony. He snapped.

   “What do you want? To just screw with me, make me sit through videos of my partner being tortured? Fine. Fuck with me all you want. I’m not gonna break.”

   Genevieve only stared him down. She turned off the video and took another drag on her cigarette.

   "You don't think I know that?" she asked coldly, exhaling a cloud of smoke. "You've watched the people you love die your entire life. You live in a world where pain is the expectation. Seeing clips of him being tortured won't do anything but make you want to do anything but help me less. No, this is about making a point. About leading up to one specific moment."

   Nate felt completely enraged. This woman, this bitch, really found it so amusing to just toy with him?

   "If this is about making a point then make your fucking point." he snarled. She laughed quietly to herself.

   "If you insist. Although personally I think it's more fun to experience the whole thing."

   She turned the projector back on. The video showing this time wasn't security cam footage, it looked crisp, clean, expensive. There was a small group of producers and technicians scurrying around, adjusting mics, doing sound checks, setting up other cameras then adjusting them so they were never in the shot. Once everything had been set up, they brought in their subject; Kenji, wearing an entirely black suit and red tie. His face was slightly bruised, but it was nowhere near the condition it had been in the other videos. This had been filmed well after his face had had time to heal.

   A phone rang in the background.

   "That's our cue!" shouted one of the crew members. A small old woman came into frame and quickly adjusted Kenji's tie and hair. She pulled out a small clip on microphone and clipped it onto his collar before scuttling out of frame again. Kenji sat in total silence, not even looking up. He looked empty, as if the elites had cracked him open and carved out everything he had inside him. It made sense. Why else would he be wearing that suit in front of a green screen, three cameras worth more than everything he owned put together focused on him?

   A voice in the background called out commands. "Lights! Sound!" Kenji tapped the microphone on his collar. The sound came out strange and distorted. He nodded to someone off camera and then put his hands on the desk in front of him.

   “And we’re live in 5, 4, 3, 2...”  On one, the overhead lights switched off. Kenji was framed in the shot as a silhouette, and Nate felt himself stop functioning as he realized what this was. When the Leader made broadcasts, it was never just him talking to the camera. They always concealed his face and voice, he was always just a shadow.

   “Hello citizens. It’s me, here to tell you that that disgusting rebellion that has plaguing our society for so long is finally over. Just moments ago, the very last of their filth was arrested and killed. No more of their garish, crass music being blared in the streets. No more attacks. No more fighting. Only you, beautiful citizens, and us. Your government. Your protectors.”

   Nate couldn’t believe what he was seeing. That broadcast had been the symbolic end of the rebellion, the moment that made everyone who still clung onto hopes for the revolution being a success give up. All the last supporters were turned in, or they turned themselves in, and arrested. It was the final blow, and Kenji had been the one who pulled the trigger. It took the wind out of Nate’s lungs, he had to sit down. 

   “No... No you... You faked the footage. This is one of those fucking deepfake videos, I researched it. Before the war they had the technology to generate this shit with computers, you just... You uncovered it. Kenji wouldn’t... He didn’t...” he blurted out, trying to rationalize everything to himself. Genevieve smirked.

   “I always find these behind the scenes videos to be so fascinating. Really gives you insight into how things were made.” she said coolly, absentmindedly scratching a spot on her arm.  “I actually got one better, I was there when this was filmed. He was so willing to cooperate, he didn’t even waste any time rehearsing his lines.” 

   “Shut up! Shut the fuck up you harpy!” he snapped back, shouting and blinking away the tears stinging his eyes. She shrugged.

   “You told me to make my point, and that was it.”  She brought her cigarette to her lips.  “You rebels lived in a naive little fairy-tale world where you followed your leader as if he had all the answers. You can try and disagree, but be honest. You would have taken a bullet for him. You have taken bullets for him, because you believed he was going to always do what was right for his cause. Here is video proof that he was just as much of a coward, a regular person whose morals can and will be dropped at any time, as anyone else. This is my point, Nathaniel. Nobody is special, not even your precious Kenji Hirayama.” 

   Once she had finished talking, she called in a guard and had her prisoner cuffed and escorted away. Nate gritted his teeth the whole way back to his cell, his hands as tight fists at his sides. His nails were digging into his palms, but he barely felt the pain. He could only feel hatred and resentment. For Genevieve, obviously, but not just her. He was angry at Kenji for betraying the rebellion that he had risked his life to keep alive, and he was angry at himself for ever believing Kenji was better than that. When he got back to his cell, he slumped onto the floor with a heavy thud. He stretched awkwardly in the cramped space. Life, his shoulder was sore...

   “Hey... Nate, you back?” called a voice softly from the air vent next to him. It was CeeCee, she had found a way to talk to him through the vents. 

   “Yeah, I’m back.” he replied, sighing and slumping further onto the ground. 

   “How bad was it today?” she queried gently. Nate chuckled weakly.

   “Fucking terrible.” he mumbled. She sighed.

   “Same here. Like they didn’t even hit me or nothin’, but... Fuck. I just feel like shit.”  Nate furrowed his brow.

   “What’d they say to you?”

   “Just...”  She hesitated, and he could hear her breath hitch.  “They took me to Zander’s room. He wasn’t awake, and he was hooked up to all these tubes and monitors. He was fucking dying and they... They almost unplugged his life support right there in front of me. And if I didn’t know that Zander would’ve rather unplugged it himself before I said jack shit, I-I almost told ‘em. I almost said everything they wanted to hear.”  Nate could hear her sobs, muffled by the vent but still clear enough to break his heart.

   “Oh CeeCee... I’m so sorry.”

   “It ain’t your fault, Nate.” she mumbled back, sniffling. 

   The two of them sat in silence for a while, not sure what to say.

   “Apparently Carson managed to convince Kenji to read that last public broadcast for him.” he said quietly, just wanting to get it off his chest. CeeCee exhaled, clearly also just as shocked as he had been by the revelation.

   “Shit...” she muttered.

   “Heh, yeah. It’s fucked.”  Nate swallowed as a few tears managing to escape and roll down his face.

   “How the world did they manage that?” CeeCee wondered. Nate chuckled.

   “I dunno...”  He felt a wave of emptiness rock through his core.  “But if I ever see him again I’m going to fucking kill him.”

_______________________

Tag list:

@germanmetal @thereasontherumisgone​

//if you want to be notified when this updates let me know 

[mrs-dragneel-stark-solo]

Unforseen Chasm(Part 58)

Part 58 of Unforseen Chasm

Prompt: Two sisters fall for men that are absolute enemies. The love they have could tear all of them apart, or it could bring them together. Word Count: 1768 Warnings: Language, Song for this part: I’ll never love again- Lady Gaga Note: This is by far the longest thing I’ve ever written (including my other fic series). first major Collab with my best friend @thorne93​​ what was first a simple “what if” moment turned into a two year writing session and I’ve never been more prouder of myself than when i started my first series. goes through most of the MCU plots there are some changes to accommodate for what we wanted and there is a bit of a crossover between the MCU and other characters. I hope you guys enjoy reading this just as much as I enjoyed writing it.

When all was said and done, you were back at the Avengers compound. 

Everyone remaining of the team had been gathered up. It appeared that Nat, Steve, Rhodey, Bruce, and Shannon were all still okay. Shannon was a relief, they all were really -- your friends, but Loki… Loki vanishing before you… that nearly killed you. 

It’d been two days now.

Nat had tried to reach out to Clint multiple times with nothing. Shannon had tried sending a signal to Tony’s transponder endlessly since she boarded the jet back home and there was no response. 

As for you, you were consumed with both grief and obsession. Thanos was alive, he was still out there somewhere, with the stones. You were in Shannon’s lab, searching. You began to try and trace the remnants of the stones. You started with the location of the snap and then went from there, trying to trace each stone. Part of the mind stone flowed in your veins, so you let the system take a bit of your blood, so that it could maybe find it somewhere on the planet, in the galaxy, in the universe. Thanos had to be somewhere. 

You worked day and night. Shannon tried to get you to eat, as did Steve, but each time they came in, you simply muttered a vague response of not being hungry. Towards the end of the second day, Shannon was way past worried. Between wringing her hands on if Tony was alive, dead, or vanished and watching you spiral into madness, she was at her wits end. 

“Y/N!” she barked when you refused a sandwich late at night. “This is quite enough! You need rest. You need sleep. Do you think Loki would want you killing yourself to find him?” she implored as she walked forward and tried to touch your shoulder.

Your eyes never left the map though as you continued working through physics equations, mathematical probabilities of where Thanos might’ve gone. 

“Yes,” you muttered mindlessly, not really paying attention to her. 

“No he wouldn’t! I didn’t know him as well as you, and we may have had our differences, but both of us love you and want you to be happy and healthy. Y/N… Y/N… Y/N!” She shouted, grabbing your shoulders and forcing you to look at her. Finally, the trance was broken. You were looking at her, paying attention to her, listening. “Do you see yourself? You’re a zombie. You’re entirely consumed with… with this! You’re not going to find him, and even if you do, what are you going to do? We lost… and that was with all of us. What do you think will happen?” she begged. 

“I don’t care,” you defiantly said, pulling yourself from her grasp, going back to your work. “I will fight him alone if I have to. I have to get those stones back,” you muttered, falling back into the frenzy of madness, refusing to be rational. 

“Y/N, come on, this isn’t healthy. You’re going out of your mind. You can’t face him alone. Loki wouldn’t want this.” 

“Loki isn’t here!” you suddenly roared, dropping your pencil down. “He isn’t here! None of them are! Because of Thanos! Don’t you see? I have to find him! I have to! He’s taken everything from me. First, he took you, then he took all of my friends, now… Now he has literally taken the love of my life and most of my friends. Don’t you see I have to do this? I have to find him.” The mania had broken. Your eyes were alive with chaos and heartbreak. How did Shannon not see that Thanos needed to be stopped? 

All she did was eye you with sorrowful pity before pulling you into a tight embrace. 

“Killing yourself to find him won’t do it… We’ll take turns, yeah?” she offered with a smile as she pulled away. “I’ll stay up, run some numbers, watch the simulation… We can find him, but I want you to go get some sleep… Please? You can’t think correctly or find anyone on no sleep.” 

Hesitantly, you agreed. She was right. You explained which probabilities you were running quickly before Steve offered to show you to a room. You thanked him as he put his hand on your shoulder and guided you.

-----------------------

You were lying in a room they’d made up for you, you think it was the one next to Wanda’s but at that moment in time, nothing mattered - not eating, drinking, or showering. You were tired. The grief made you tired, more tired than you think you’d ever felt in your life, but your obsession kept you going. Now that you’d actually laid down though, you were exhausted.

Grief hit you harder than any physical pain you’d ever endured. Which meant all of the things you needed to do to keep you alive and healthy vanished when Loki did. Your will to live had absolutely been obliterated. 

Things had been rough all around. Everyone was still trying to find people they knew. Shannon had kept a front when the team was together but they all knew this was hitting her hard not knowing if Tony and the kid had been dusted or not. 

Shannon walked into your room like she did every day to give you updates but this time around was different. After she went in she sat at the edge of her bed. Shannon had been busy looking for the people you all loved and cared for. You were tracking down the enemy. No one had found anything.

You moved the covers of your bed and patted the spot next to you. She got in and you both leaned close to each other. “How’s it going?” she asked, barely audible.

“You know exactly how it’s going,” you deadpanned, the tiniest hint of anger in your voice. You weren’t angry at her, per se, but angry at the situation and mad that she could think you were any better off than a few days ago. “How about you? Any word on Tony? Strange? Peter? Any of them?” you wondered, grasping for any kind of spark of hope or happiness.

“I know, I’m sorry.” She looked down at her hands wishing she could do more. “No. Still no word about either of them, the transponder is still not sending a signal.” She seemed to shrink down into the bed. “I wish there was some clue you know? I don’t even know if Parker is...if he’s—” She shut down a bit not wanting to think about the very real possibilities.

You reached over and grabbed her hand. “We will find them. Somehow.” 

“There’s only so much hope we can have and I'm trying my hardest to keep strong for everyone, you know?” She squeezed your hand looking up at you. “They keep looking to me as if though I’m Tony and there’s that pager beeping with still no clue as to who it's meant for...”

“Because you’re just like him,” you said with the smallest of smiles. “That’s why he married you. You two are two peas in a pod. You're the idea people. You two share a brain, I swear. He moves, you move. He thinks of something and you finish the thought. If you have an idea, he helps make it a reality. You two are perfect for each other. But above all of that, you’re what usually holds this team together, Shan. They need you for guidance and ideas. Steve lost Sam and Bucky, and now with Tony… He has you and Nat, that’s it. The rest of them, they need you.” 

Shannon looked up to you from her wedding ring. “I’m not sure I know what to do though...like you said part of my brain is missing and I’m scrawling to figure this out. I need your help Y/N/N, how do I do this? Where do I start, who can I question when there’s no clues?” She leaned her head on your leg, at some point moved so far down that she was practically covered by the duvet. “I just wish this was some sick joke or nightmare and that we’ll wake up to the guys walking in with breakfast for us after a long night of being at the lab.” Her voice cracked. 

“Believe me, if wishes alone could’ve brought them back… they’d all be here by now by me alone.” You started to cry, your never ending habit lately. You swore you cried more than you breathed lately. “I miss him so much, you know? I wish I knew how to help you, Shan, I really do, but all I can think of is how to get to Thanos, how to maybe get everyone back and I… I’m not getting anywhere.” You sighed heavily. “I’m sorry I’m such a let down. I wished I could do one thing. I could’ve fought Thanos. I should’ve been fighting him. Not Steve and Bucky and you and Wanda. It should’ve been me. You told me to protect everyone… I didn’t do that. I failed you, I failed everyone.  Hell, I failed the whole universe.” 

“No, Y/N/N, don’t think that! I wish we could both hide in here but I know Steve wouldn't let me.” She peaked from under the covers. “Feels like you can’t breathe? Like there’s a literal part that's not functioning right? There’s so many things I wish I had done differently, you know?” She pulled you closer to her. “I know we’ll find a way to bring them back. Just too much to handle right now.”

“I’m not so sure about that. I also think Steve knows better than to come bother me right now, he may lose his life over it. Not to mention, I’m not essential. I don’t think anyone would miss me if I were gone, besides you.” You sighed. “You wish you had done things differently?” You scoffed. “I let Thanos get away. I should’ve just left Proxima alone. I should’ve been guarding Vision, not Wanda. There are a million things I could’ve done differently to give us a different turn out. But most of the time, yeah… I can’t breathe.” 

“I know,” she concurred, her voice thick. 

You tried to swallow your sobs for just a moment before you turned to her and said, “But there is still hope for you. Don’t let go of that.” 

“I’m trying not to, but it’s hard. And I have to lead this team, but I’m losing hope every minute Tony isn’t here.” 

Unforseen Chasm Tag list- @reigningqueenofwords​ @oldfreakything​ @adefectivedetective​ @dontbetooobvious​

Tag list- @cas-you-assbutt-dean-needs-you​ @winchester-writes​ @winchesterenthusiast​ @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog​   @sammysbuttcheek​ @misz-adrii​ @sandlee44​ @womanxofletters​ @natsuccs​ @childishhoebinoo​ @expecteddifferent​ @girl-next-door-writes​ @fanaticfanfiction​ @dakotapaigelove​ @sassy-spn-knight-of-hell​ @reigningqueenofwords​ @oldfreakything​

Marvel: @reigningqueenofwords​ @flowerbunbunny​ @zelda2248​ @misz-adrii​

[bisexualfelicity]

No Other Version of Me - Prologue (1/?)

Summary: Amalia Queen was once said to be so important that the universe made sure she happened. Yes, it was her mom who said that but it still counts. Now, she's an adult and struggles to be worthy of such sentence. She doesn't want to be a vigilante and make so many sacrifices like the rest of her family, but it doesn't mean she doesn't want to save the world.

Sequel to "Five Lives"

Note: I know many writers have already done their take on next gen and canon did make it kinda pointless, but I promised to one (1) person I'd write this like two years ago and I don't like lying. Also the crossover episodes made me sad and I wanted to go to my happy place.

It's a sequel to Five Lives, so the Next Gen here is NOT Mia and co, as she hadn't been introduced when I wrote it.This first chapter is a prologue, it doesn't feature any known character but it was relevant for plot resons that will be clear later! Please, bear with me!

Read under “read more” or here on AO3.

May 2027.

It was the day. Karima felt her palms sweating as soon as she woke up; she had to close her eyes and steady her breath before getting up. As always, Taliq had gotten up before her and had already left for work. She took that as confirmation that he didn’t suspect a thing. A few hours, that was how long she needed to hold still and fake her smile. After two years of planning, she could barely believe she was that close from freedom. Her heart didn’t seem to want to wait that long, almost bursting from her chest, trying to make an early escape. It’s almost done now, she told herself. We’re almost there.

Waking up the girls was easy. Just routine. She can almost feel herself relaxing into it, braiding Samyia’s hair as Naila draws in her book and tells the story behind what she’s drawing. Those moments with her girls are what fuels her spirit.

“You look so pretty,” Karima told Samyia, kissing her cheek, “So grown up.”

The smile that blossoms on her daughter’s face is enough to blind anyone. Samyia is always so serious, Karima received every smile as a precious gift.

“What about me? Do I look pretty too?” Naila asked, leaving her drawing behind to join the others.

“Of course you do, my love,” Karima said, kissing the top of her head and pulling both girls into a hug.

The door opened and the room became silent. Taliq stared at them with no emotion and didn’t say anything. There was a time where he would have smiled at the scene, where he would ask if he could join the hug. Karima wished she had forgotten about those days, it would make things easier for her. But every morning when he came by, she hoped it would be the day she’d see her husband again.

She should know better. Her husband was long gone and only the monster lived there now.

Karima squeezed Samyia’s hand but encouraged both girls to follow their father. Not that they needed encouragement, they knew it was time to go. Karima wished she could tell them to hold on for a few hours and everything would be okay, but she couldn’t risk telling them anything. She just let their girls go. She was always watching them go and staying behind.

“Do not forget about the party tonight,” Taliq told her, “I left some money for you to do your hair. We want to make a good impression.”

Karima just nodded. More money was good, time was even better. Just a few hours, she reminded herself as she started packing the girls’ clothes. They couldn’t bring much, but she didn’t want them to need anything if something went wrong. Looking around the girls’ room she wondered if she should take any of their toys. There definitely wasn’t enough space for that, but she ended up getting Samyia’s favorite blanket and a few of Naila’s recent drawings. If something happened… No, she couldn’t think like this.

Her room was the easiest, she got fewer change of clothes for herself than she had for the girls. She had sold most of her jewelry over the last two years, but there were still a few valuable things that she packed in case they needed them later. When she was done the bag was so full that it was hard to close, but she managed it.

She had to wait until she was sure none of the house employees were around to take the bag outside, to hide it in the middle of the garden’s bushes. She texted Inaya to say the plan was on time, praying her friend would not change her mind today.

Inaya was the only other person who knew about her plan. She was the one who had told Karima that she could do this, that she could get her girls away from Taliq.

A moment later, Inaya confirmed that everything was ready for them.

The worst part was the waiting. The minutes passed and nothing happened. Karima wouldn’t need help prtending to be sick, her stomach was turning inside her and she couldn’t stop sweating. But she couldn’t risk it, so she took the little vial of poison anyway. Not enough to cause permanent damage, Inaya had said, just enough to make sure you’d be sick.

This was it, this was either the last day of her life or the first day of her new one.

By the time Taliq came back she was kneeling in front of the toilet throwing her organs up. Despite her body hating her right now, she knew she had done the right thing. The dark under her eyes couldn’t be faked.

“What is going on?” Taliq asked when he arrived in the room, “You look disgusting! How are we going to be seen this way?”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m feeling terrible. I can’t go tonight.”

She saw the anger in his eyes, she prepared herself for one of his violent kicks, but it didn’t come.

“Maybe we’ll get a new baby soon, huh? A boy this time?” He was smiling. Karima’s heart broke for the man he used to be.

“It might be the flu,” she answered, her voice tired. She tried to smile back to him, but she couldn’t. She hoped he’d attribute it to her sickness.

“It’d be great if we could replicate the work we’ve been doing with Naila,” he continued, as she hadn’t said anything. “We’re almost there, habibi.”

This time the pet name didn’t do anything to make her feel bad about her plans. He was almost done which meant her time was over. This was her only chance.

“Are you going to be okay by yourself?” Taliq asked.

“Yes, I just need to rest. Tomorrow I’ll feel a lot better.”

Tomorrow a lot of things would be different.

Taliq nodded and turned away, getting ready for his own event. Karima tried to compose herself and lay down on her bed, as if to rest her eyes for a moment. When Taliq left, she only knew because she was paying attention to all the sounds in the house and heard the door closing.

She waited half an hour to be sure he wouldn’t come back and then got up. Now it was the crucial part of the night. All she wanted to do was curl up in a ball and cry until the nausea stopped, but there was no time for that. First, she had to tell the maid to go for the night. She had been ready to stay with the girls, since she and Taliq were to be at the event, and was already getting them ready for bed. Convincing her was not difficult, even sick, she had authority in the house.

“Are you going to tell us a story, mommy?” Naila asked when she entered their room.

“I thought you were going to the fancy party tonight,” Samyia commented, noticing her mom in comfortable home clothes.

“Not right now, babies, we’re going to do something different today,” she whispered to them, “I need you to be awake for a bit longer, okay? Why don’t you two go draw something while you wait for me to come back?”

Both girls nodded. Naila loved drawing and jumped out of bed the moment she could, running to her colored pencils. Samyia stared at her mom for a while, wondering what was happening, but she didn’t question it, just obeyed. They always obeyed.

Convincing the security guard to leave was the hardest part. There was only one guarding the house, the other one had gone to get something to eat, the way they always did when they were left to guard the house during the night and Taliq wasn’t there. Karima had observed enough to know that. The second guard wouldn’t be back for at least half an hour. Doing her best to show her pain, she begged the guard to go to the pharmacy and buy her the medicine she wanted. For months now, she had been telling everyone she didn’t trust ordering things online, liked seeing them. All this just for this moment.

The guard hesitated, he knew if Taliq arrived now he’d be in trouble. He should never leave the house unguarded but he couldn’t say no to Karima. Not when she was clearly in pain and he was the only one who could go, she could not leave the house alone at this time of the night. In the end, he ended up leaving, saying he’d be back in less than fifteen minutes.

Karima’s heart raced in her chest. There was not enough time, she ran upstairs as soon as she closed the door behind her. Her daughters looked at her alarmed when she entered.

“Come with me,” she told them, and grabbed each by the hand.

Naila complained a little about how fast they were going while Samyia only looked confused. They got out through the backdoor and Karima sighed in relief when Inaya was waiting in the dark, holding the bag she had hidden earlier.

“Everything on schedule?” Inaya asked instead of greeting her, Karima just nodded and handled both girls to Inaya.

“That’s mommy’s friend, Inaya. Do what she says until I come back, okay?” she told the children, and then turned to her friend. “If I’m not there in ten minutes, go.”

Inaya didn’t look happy about that but they had discussed it before. The priority was taking Samyia and Naila out of there. Without time to explain for her daughters what was happening, Karima hoped Inaya would comfort them enough, so she ran back inside.

She ran straight to Taliq’s lab. It was locked by fingerprint and a 6-number password. The DNA had been easier than she imagined it would be since they lived in the same house, but the password was harder. She wasn’t allowed in the lab, hadn’t been there since Naila was little, and the password changed every month. She had searched the entire house to see if Taliq had written it somewhere, but she had no luck. She could have asked for the girls to pay attention when their father was typing and tell her later, but she couldn’t risk them accidentally telling that to the wrong person.

It had been hard, it took her being extra nice and agreeable to Taliq for weeks, but over the last month she managed to have him open the door in front of her. And then it was completed.

With less care than she should, she added his fingerprint and the numbers and she was there. She went directly to the machine, Taliq’s golden mine. She knew the schematics must have been uploaded somewhere, but she couldn’t be bothered with that. She started taking things apart with her own hands. It’d be faster if she was stronger, but there wasn’t anyone else who could do this. When she had done the best she could, she started opening the cabinets, searching for anything flammable and dropping in to the floor. She looked for anything that had the girls’ DNA and dropped it as well.

When her watch started beeping, she knew her time was up. With the lighter she had gotten the week before, she started the fire. It wasn’t spreading as fast as she thought it would, so she tried dropping more flammable things near it. Starting to get desperate for the fire to become bigger, she opened the drawer full of chemicals and started pouring them on the floor. The fire started to spread quickly after that and almost burned her. The smoke started to spread through the windowless room, her entire body told her to get out of there soon or she wouldn’t be able to breathe for much longer, but Karima couldn’t help but admire what she had just done. Taliq’s life work was in flames and he had no idea. No matter what happened from now on, it was over.

She turned to go out just to remember the door was closed. Her vision was starting to get foggy with the smoke, tears forming in her eyes, but she managed to open it, immediately coughing when she got in contact with the clean air. She had to drag a metal chair to stop the door from closing again. Luckily the floor was made of wood and would help spread the fire faster.

Getting out of the lab, she went straight to the kitchen, making the oven start leaking gas, and dropped the lighter on the floor. Soon, everything would explode. She could see the flames starting to spread out of the lab and ran away through the backdoor.

She ran all way to the meeting point, a block from her house, where Inaya was waiting inside the car with both girls. When she pulled the door open, Inaya didn’t say anything, just started the car.

Samyia and Naila started asking questions as soon as Karima arrived, but she was too busy coughing to answer. She had breathed the smoke for too long and running to the car hadn’t help her lack of oxygen.

“There’s some water in the back,” Inaya said, and Karima searched for it.

The water burned when she drank it, but it helped relieve some of the pain.

The weight of what she had just done seemed to suddenly hit her. The tears started forming in her eyes and before she could stop herself she was sobbing. For years, she had kept her tears to herself, being strong for her daughters, faking a smile so Taliq wouldn’t find out about her plans. But now it was over, she was free! She cried so much she could barely breathe, but she couldn’t stop either. The feelings needed to get out of her right now.

“This is as far as I can take you,” Inaya said, touching her arm to get her attention. “Here are the new identities. I’m sorry I couldn’t do more.”

“You have done more than I can ever repay you,” Karima answered, smiling under her tears.

“What’s going on, Mommy? Where are we?”

“I’ll explain everything later, I need you both to be quiet now, please, just go with me. Tomorrow I’ll tell you everything.”

Where they were was the bus station, where they’d get a bus to another city, and then they’d meet a guy who was going to take them over the border. Once there, they’d get a train, and then they’d have to pay someone to take them closer to the mountains. And once they were close, they’d have to walk for miles until they could get there.

And that’s what they did. As they completed each step and got farther from home, farther from Taliq, Karima felt the relief taking over her body. She had done it, she had truly done it. She didn’t let herself wonder about what happened there. If Taliq was searching or mourning them. If he had found out about Inaya’s connection to her. This was all secondary to her freedom.

She only noticed that she hadn’t stopped coughing since the fire when Naila asked if she was still sick. But she didn’t mind it at first, it was just a cough. But it didn’t go away and, by the time they got to the mountains, it had started being a lot harder to breathe. She couldn’t go to a doctor, couldn’t risk anything official and she didn’t want to stop. Over a week had passed and Taliq would know by now they were all alive, would be searching for them. Her mission wasn’t over yet.

Samyia and Naila were scared and tired. They trusted their mom, but they had never left the city before, had never done anything without their father’s authorization. They missed their home, their bed, their food and their routine. For years, they had complied with everything done with them, but now they’d beg Mom to stop. Naila would cry in silence and Samyia would refuse to move.  

But the worst part was when she could see the fear in their eyes. When they noticed that mom was coughing up blood, they insisted on stop, but Karima made them continue to walk. One foot in front of the other, even when her lung seemed to burn under her skin and her feet hurt so much it could fall down, Karima did not stop. Not even if she had to crawl, she would arrive.

And after days, she saw something. Her body fell on the ground and she had to do so much effort to walk, she wondered if she’d die now that she was so close.

When they arrived in the gates, women with swords received her. She could barely talk now, her throat was too damaged for that.

“Please,” she whispered, “You need to protect my daughters.”

This was all she ever needed.

Despite their frightening weapons and eyes, they helped Karima and the girls inside. They took her to an infirmary and gave her medicine.

But Karima knew it was too late for her. She knew there was something wrong with her lungs. She made a choice when she decided to run away, to save her children. She had never felt so much pain in her life, but she was smiling.

Her girls were safe now.

She had saved them and now the League would protect them. 

[planetsam]

Can we get a follow up to (the sick Michael one ending with a sick Alex) please? Can it involve emotional sex because they were both sick and just needed each other and to get it out of their system?

Follow up to this. 

“Why’d you take care of me?”

Alex stops and looks over at Michael. He’s surprised at how small he looks. Being sick has rocked Michael in a way that few things have. Alex doesn’t understand why the universe has it out for him the way it does. In the span of a few weeks, everything Michael thought he knew was taken apart and left in tatters. Alex has been through those times. He’s come out the other end. Alex knows the all deal with trauma differently but he’s seen Michael rocked before. Michael living in Roswell, only speaking to three people and becoming the town troublemaker doesn’t ease Alex’s worries. And through it all, Michael’s support system seems to have been Max and Isobel. Max is gone and Michael cannot even get near him and that also seems to have thrown him for a loop. It’s on the tip of his tongue to tell Michael that he doesn’t need a reason to take care of him. But something tells him that isn’t going to suffice this time.

“I was worried,” he says.

“But—“ Michael lets out a breath of frustration, “why now?”

Alex isn’t sure he has an answer for that. Maybe distance just makes things easier. He worried about Michael, he can’t say he ever stopped. But worrying about him was easier when he could make up whatever he wanted to about Michael’s life while he did it. Michael went to college. Michael got his life straightened out. Michael was happy without him so why did he have to come back? Now Michael is in front of him on a far more regular basis and all the pretty lies Alex has allowed himself are torn down one by one. He comes over to where Michael is sitting at his table, notebook in front of him and pen in the other hand. He still helps with Max as much as he can. But, again, the proximity that they could have before is gone. Michael can’t be around Max without the same thing happening. Alex has a feeling that will happen soon, but he isn’t looking forward to it.

“I always worry about you,” Alex admits, “I don’t know how to stop. You needed someone to take care of you.”

Michael looks down at his paper. Alex lets him collect his thoughts. Michael isn’t someone who does things lightly. For all that it seems like he flies by the seat of his pants, every move is surprisingly calculated. More calculated than Alex ever thought. It’s actually mind blown when he thinks about how much calculation goes into Michael’s day to day life. His secret, though devastating to him, isn’t going to make him be locked up in a government sanction lab to be dissected. He now knows he has resources, abilities, things he didn’t know before. Michael has less and less of that each day. Alex sits down and waits as Michael looks more and more frustrated. Finally he looks from the paper to him.

“I needed you a long time ago,” he says.

“I know,” Alex replies, fighting the urge to be frustrated at beating this dead horse.

“Not someone,” Michael emphasizes, “you,” Alex nods, “you know why I didn’t show up?” His mouth goes dry, “because I told myself I was ready not to need you anymore. And that’s when you decided to show up.”

Michael drops his pen and gets to his feet. Sitting still has never exactly been something he excels at. He’s learned, they’ve all had to, but Michael has always been particularly bad at it. Looking at him with new eyes, Alex wonders how much of that is due to his power. The Michael he thought he knew fits like cellophane over the Michael who actually stands before him. He can see though, the two men line up, but there is a distinct cut between them. One he doesn’t always know how to reconcile. He lets Michael stand and pace, torn between sitting down and running until he can’t move. Alex isn’t sure which is going to win out. Michael drags his hand through his curls, his good hand is shoved into his pocket. He does that, Alex has noticed, he hides the hand instinctively. Like he always has done. Every time he takes it out, Alex expects to see the mangled skin that isn’t there anymore.

“You know how many times a day I used to say that I wish you were here?” Michael continues, “or I wish that Alex heard that, Alex would have something to say about that. You’re tied to everything for me. But now you’re here and all I want to do is ask where the hell you were.”

“I know,” Alex says.

“And—“ Michael cuts himself off, “you know?” He repeats back.

“I always think about you,” Alex says, slowly pushing himself up, “that’s why I can’t stay away,” he tells him, “you lashing out because you’re scared and sick doesn’t change that.”

“You sure about that?” Michael challenges, “what if I can’t look at you without feeling so mad I can’t breathe? When does that change?”

“I don’t know,” Alex says honestly.

“But you think it will,” Michael challenges.

“No,” Alex admits, “I don’t,” Michael looks at him warily, “why are you trying to push me away?” Michael looks down, “I’ll tell you it didn’t make my feelings for you go away.”

“Me neither.” Michael says, so quietly Alex almost can’t hear him. He swallows tightly and tells himself that expecting Michael to say anything else on that isn’t fair to either of them. Michael jerks his head up and fixes him with a look again, “being around you hurts, Alex.”

Alex nods.

“Does it hurt less than not being around me?” He asks.

“That’s a shitty way to measure,” Michael says. Alex tries to smile and fails miserably, “no,” he says finally, “I don’t know what to do,” he tells him, frustration creeping back into every word, “I’m not good at this.”

“I’m not either,” Alex points out, “I didn’t act out by sleeping through Roswell,” he adds, trying not to inject any hurt into his voice. But it’s true. His wealth of experience is painfully small.

“Someone else could be easier,” Michael says, “make you happier.”

“Maybe,” Alex says, “but I’d still want you.”

He knows this isn’t completely about him. He’s seen Ann Evans in town, looking for her wayward son. He knows that pain is etched deep into Michael’s soul, no doubt made worse by the loss of the mother who did want him. Michael is very used to being left behind. Alex knows he didn’t help with that. He also knows he needed to go when he did. It’s all very confusing and the only thing he can say with complete certainty is that they love each other. And he knows that makes it easy for them to hurt each other. For two people who have structured their lives around not hurting the ones they care about, it’s a terrifying thought. Michael swallows and looks down again. But neither of them run towards the obvious exits. Maybe worse, neither of them go for the soft spots they both have. Standing there isn’t the usual pain, it’s a bittersweet ache Alex isn’t sure he knows how to handle. But when it comes to Michael, he’s willing to at least try.

“I don’t wanna hurt you more,” Michael says finally.

“I don’t want to hurt you either,” Alex echoes.

“So what do we do?” Michael asks.

“That,” Alex tells him, “try not to hurt each other,” he glances around, “you brought me soup,” he points out, “and you haven’t gone back to the pod,” Michael looks away, “I know you want to do that.”

“I didn’t think you’d take care of me again,” he admits.

“Hey,” Alex cuts in, “that’s not true. Guerin. I know you don’t believe that, but it’s not true.”

He can see MIchael struggle against the obvious. Alex tells himself that this doesn’t matter. That Michael not believing him, that this step back, isn’t the be all end all. Michael is not the best verbal communicator. And he has a tendency to hold everything in before he pops like a soda bottle. He’s working on it. What he isn’t expecting is for Michael to duck his head and press his lips against his. Surprise hits Alex, followed by about a dozen other emotions that make him gasp and let Michael deepen the kiss before his mind catches up to him. Michael kisses with passion, like he’s trying to communicate in the only way that makes sense. Alex kisses like he’s trying to mark something. No matter how they kiss, something more profound is always exchanged and it always seems to be in a way that the other cannot understand. Alex pulls back before this goes any further, but his hands grip Michael’s belt loops, grounding him there.

“Wait, you’re dating Maria,” he starts.

“What? No,” Michael shakes his head, “no we realized we had a lot of family shit going on and it wasn’t a good idea,” Alex nods but he can’t quite contain the stab of disappointment, even though it makes him feel like dirt. Right up until Michael cups his cheeks, his thumb brushing his bottom lip, “you’re my family, remember?”

This time Alex kisses him. The consent sets something off on Michael and Alex has to adjust his stance to catch the way he pushes against him. After years of stolen moments in the airstream, the fact that he doesn’t have anything to brace himself against catches him off guard. It’s Michael who has to yank him back, pushing up so the don’t have to break the kiss as he steadies him. He opens his eyes just enough to find the nearest solid object and pulls Michael towards him. The water on the edge of the sink immediately hits the small of his back but Michael is warm at his front. Burning hot, actually, though Alex thankfully knows that’s just how he runs and not that he’s sick. He kisses him harder twice before pulling back. Michael looks dazed and kiss wrecked, his face flushed and his lips parted. He already chases Alex and the pressure of his lips and Alex has to stop him with his fingertips. Michael nips at them and Alex swears he’s never seen anything so beautiful.

“We have to go to the bedroom,” he says.

“Huh?” Michael opens his eyes and frustration lights his features before he pushes his forehead against Alex’s, “fuck I miss having the bed right there.”

“Me too,” Alex says, pulling him to the bedroom. It turns out walking with a hard on and a prosthetic is a little more awkward than he anticipated, but thankfully it’s not far to the bedroom. It’s sit on the bed and pull Michael back in between his legs, “come here.”

Michael comes, chasing him down to the bed and covering him with his body. The airstream has a narrow bed that is barley big enough for the both of them except if they lay in a very specific way that Alex is definitely not about to complain about. The bed in the cabin is bigger. It’s easy to turn their positions so Michael is underneath him. Michael pulls back from the kiss, like he’s surprised to remember they’re in a bigger bed. Alex ducks down to press his lips against Michael’s jaw and extended throat. He feels him swallow tightly.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, pulling up to look at him.

“I don’t know,” Michael admits, “don’t stop.”

Alex crushes their lips together and slips his tongue into Michael’s mouth. Michael presses into the kiss again, trying to push himself up against him. Alex grasps both of Michael’s wrists in his hand and guides them above his head, holding them there. He presses Michael’s hip into the bed with his hand as he settles his knee in between his legs. Michael groans his approval into his mouth, nipping his bottom lip with his teeth. The times when the’ve been able to languidly explore each other have been far and few between. The vast majority of their sexual experience has been passionate but undeniably adrenaline fueled, often with looking over their shoulders. Or filled with things they don’t say. They don’t need to rush, at least this time. Or worry about someone interrupting them. Michael is usually the more vocal one in bed but Michael is a swearing mess by the time they’re naked and against each other. He curses and says Alex’s name in the same wrecked tone of voice that seems to send all the blood rushing to Alex’s groin.

Alex has to get up to get the condoms. When he pulls away Michael full on whines and Alex has to kiss him again before he gets up. Walking naked around his own room is a strange feeling, but nothing compares to looking back and seeing Michael laying there. He’s sprawled out and naked, gasping for air. His hands are still above his head where Alex pushed them before. Alex pulls out the condoms, thanking every god he can remember the name for that he thought to get them. Michael opens his hazel eyes and looks at him as he comes back over. It’s oddly intimate to be able to look at each other. But not intimate enough. Not after the stuff they’ve done. He feels Michael hook a foot behind his leg and drag it down until the sensation vanishes. He tugs the prosthetic forward and Alex crawls back towards him.

“Off or on?”

“Off,” he says.

Michael nods and turns them so he can take off his leg. The sleeve follows. Alex is never sure he’ll get used to missing his leg. Michael’s run his fingers over the scar that seams what remains of it, but it’s the first time he’s brushed the underside of it. Alex shudders at the foreign sensation but doesn’t tell him to stop. It’s another odd realization that being sick is foreign to both of them but they bear the scars of these massive, life altering injuries. He doesn’t think of Michael as any different for the lack of scarring on his hand. Or of anywhere on his body. Michael’s always worn his internal scars more than his external ones. This time when they fuck it’s pleasure and exploration and acceptance rolled into one. Every time they push against each other, Alex tries to memorize the feeling. He tries to learn the exact moment when Michael swears more and then just starts repeating his name as he tightens around him. Hell for the first time he figured out how it is for him to not just focus on getting to the end of it. They fall next to each other on the bed, side by side for a moment until they turn towards each other, like the need for proximity is more important.

“We’re wasting the bed,” Michael mumbles. Alex kisses him lightly.

“I don’t care,” Alex says, “it’ll still be here for next time.”

Michael looks at him, hazel eyes still hazy with pleasure.

“Hey, Alex?”

“Hmm?”

“We’re wasting the shower.”