#which I think is an interesting thing to pair with my understanding of Bruce’s view of the Hulk’s intelligence

[daydreamerdrew]

The Incredible Hulk (1968) #253

[mac-cheez]

My Guide To Surviving The Waynes

This is inspired by an earlier post of mine and will be in an epistolary/Dracula style in the view of said uni student. I hope y'all like it!

Thxs @arrowheadedbitch for proofread and confidence.

Pt. 2 Pt. 3

--------------------------------------------------------------

Dear Diary,

I'm not a diary person really. I was always told it helps you relax or work through your feelings, but it never seemed worth it...... well not till now. Not till a "normal" morning for me was eating cereal while shouting goes through the house and under threat of death if I finish the milk. This is what's currently happening as I write this on my laptop trying not to spill said cereal. As I listened to another argument between Tim and Damian about something inconsequential (something about galleries robbing banks?), I finally caved and started writing. I figure this could be useful for reference or advice or even study (these bitches are weird as hell). Maybe I should start with how I got here?

I grew up down South. The bible belt was a weird place, but I survived I guess. My parents are loving and as understanding as they can be with their own experiences and opinions. My father is Army so we were lucky to not be on wheels at all times. My only major move was my sophomore year of high school. I decided to apply for the exchange program and was picked due to my fluency in French. I was sent to Paris and, loved it so much I decided to stay. I was able to stay till graduation and still keep in touch with my friends. I know, picture perfect right?

After graduation, I applied to many different Universities and programs hoping for a good criminal justice program to learn in. Forensics was the main interest I was looking for. It just so happened that Gotham University's Forensics and Criminal Justice Facilities just got updated by the Wayne Foundation (probably to deal with the crime problem). I saw that it met all of my criteria and applied not thinking about it. A couple of my picks fell through, but most came back as acceptances. I was about to accept one of my local Universities when I got the Gotham U acceptance letter. It said the usual spiel of "we'd love to have you, blah, blah, blah", I was about to throw it in the pile when I saw one specific detail, "We boast a 95% employment rate of our Science-based graduates."

After some research, I found out that it was true. Most GU grads get hired straight out of school if they have a scientific degree. That paired with the brand new facilities made me reconsider. I talked with my parents, and they agreed that it was likely the best option, but they were concerned about me living in the dorms or an apartment in a place like Gotham. I was about to suggest living in a city nearby and just commuting when my dad asked us to wait for a minute. He made some calls while I talked with my mom about other things concerning the move. When he came back he said he had a friend from work who I could stay with. He told me he had a couple kids my age and plenty of room. It wasn't till I was in the limo with a very nice elderly man on my way to said friend's house that I realized he meant The Bruce Wayne. Once he parked (his name is Alfred btw) I got my luggage out and kinda just stared. He asked to take my bags but I just said no thank you. He hummed and led me to the door. It was quiet when he opened the door which I thought would be normal, but the worry on his face told me otherwise.

Suddenly from the hall, two boys ran by one yelling "MERCY" while the other smaller boy chased him with a sword and........ pink hair? I was concerned, but Alfred seemed more at ease so I tried not to think about it too much. Behind them, a guy came from the same hallway snickering at his phone.

"Master Duke, would you mind filling me in on the situation at hand?" Alfred asked him.

"Oh yeah Alfred, it was hilarious," 'Duke' said laughing, "so Tim put pink dye in the shampoo for Dick and then-," he stopped looking at me. "Uhhhhhhhh, Who's the girl?" He asked.

"A guest of Master Bruce," said Alfred.

"Oh! Oh. Uh, You're not......... ya know..... a guest," he asked.

"No god no I'm not that broke yet," I explained hoping the humor would land.

It seemed to because he immediately brightened and started introducing himself as Duke Thomas, one of Mr. Waynes Wards. I introduced myself and why I was there. It seemed like he was going to ask something when there was a crash and he said he should "make sure no one gets stabbed again".

"Well that was eventful," I said looking towards the hall he exited through.

"I'm sure you'll get used to it," said Afred, worrying me a little. This wasn't an occasional thing?

He started leading me-;skjfbsgdpibzebERROR++vbvnjkm;n;mxcvz;'anrvbA:----

[esperata]

hey hey, 2, 3, 4 and 7 for the writer asks! <3

2. What is your favourite fic of yours?

Wow, it is difficult to choose between them so I am going to select three favourites. These are ones I would regularly choose to read myself. First up is the comic riddlebird story “in sanguine veritas” which actually offers an outside persepctive on the relationship.

Next I’d pick “Take These Broken Wings” which focuses on the 2004 cartoon riddlebird getting together. I enjoy the tone of this one and its a verion of the pair I generally enjoy.

Third, I’d select “Arkham Games” which I’m proud of for managing to depict a gruffer variation and still make their relationship feel genuine. Again its a version of Penguin I enjoy so it has that allure as well.

3. What fic of yours do you think is underrated?

I’m going to pick one that I expected to get more views than it did, even though I understand why it didn’t, “Pumpkin King”. This is a hattercrow fic before they get togeher and thus doesn’t have the lure of the romance part yet. I intended to continue it but got disheartened. Though perhaps its best open ended.

4. What fic of yours were you surprised by how popular it was?

That has to be my most popular fic by kudos, “That’s Amore”. While I’m aware the MCU had a very big fandom compared to what I’m used to, it still throws me how keen people were for this Thor/Bruce fic. I’ll never hit that kind of success again.

7. How do you edit your fics? What do you look for in your edits?

Ooh interesting question. In shorter fics this can be summarised generally as a basic spelling and grammar check. If I’m writing a drabble then I’ll do a word count check and generally they need editing to bring it down to 100. Occasionally fics need some changes of phrasing so the flow is smoother. Too many short sentences sound choppy but lengthy text can be confusing.

Longer fics tend to require additional work since there is often a *plan* and I need to make sure I have actually conveyed what I wanted. Sometimes this is an emotional moment or a twist reveal and if the pacing is off then this can fall flat. Therefore there may be the necessity of padding. That’s also necessary if I’ve jumped too quickly ahead for it to feel natural and I will interject more dialogue or scene exposition to slow things down.

On the occasions I am writing a really long fic, continuity has to be checked as well. I will often takes notes on a read through to fact check myself so when I go back I can confirm if I did in fact set up the point I later reference. I have had a beta reader go over chapters and suggest edits which then mean major overhauls and moving blocks of text around so it makes better sense. Then I really do have to check continuity and pacing.

Of course sometimes I will have a simply brilliant idea which I need to edit in and I just need to shuffle bits around so it slots in seemlessly. My nanowrimo fic which is very long has an actual notebook dedicated to helping me keep track. I have notes to check terminology used, ideas I want to remember to include later, references to videos that might help, notes on what I need to go back and redraft and also a suggestion to change a character name.

So yeah, lots of rereads, copious notes and smooth flowing text.

[randomshyperson]

Wanda Maximoff x Reader - I bet i love you

Gif if not mine, but i swear she looks prettier every time i look at her.

Summary: Prompt based from @ecruzsalaz: The one where Wanda is popular, and Reader is a nerd. The popular kids do a bet that Reader will fall in love with Wanda. Everything will be reveal after their trip. 

Warnings: Light angst, kissing, teasing, underage drinking, lies, Vision being an idiot completely out of canon.

Words:  13.446 k /// Read on AO3

Notes: I don’t even know what happen here. I’m been busy and this took a lot of days to be done, but it’s finally here, hope @ecruzsalaz will be satisfied haha. Good reading everyone and apologies for any typo, it sucks to translate so many words. There are a few pop culture references, i wonder if anyone will catch those.

Marks (if i forgot your name tell me i’m lost):  @mionemymind @abimess

In your last year of high school, you just wish things would be peaceful.

The previous years hadn't exactly been ideal, since you were surrounded by assholes, but you are optimistic.

Your small, select group of friends, consisting of exactly two people, who you could swear were probably the only decent human beings left in West View High School, were currently the only reason you still wanted to go to high school.

Right now, for example, you were sitting in the outer cafeteria, a book of historical fiction to escape reality plus headphones with some old rock music that you weren't really listening to, since you were so focused on the story you were reading. And then someone pulled on your headphones, and you looked up ready to complain, but the mischievous smile of your best friend Bruce Banner was all you could find.

- I've been calling you for five minutes. - He said, sitting down on the stool in front of you. You smiled, apologizing, and put your cell phone on the table. - No problem, you always do that.

You laughed awkwardly, closing the book while Bruce put his backpack on the table.

- Where is Mon? I haven't seen her today. - You tell him, but Bruce shrugs. 

- Maybe her mother changed shifts again. - He comments, and you make a noise with your mouth of agreement. Whenever Maria, your friend Monica's mother, switched shifts at work, she would be late for first periods. It has been like this since primary school.

- You still haven't let me see your schedule. - You told Bruce with a slight frown, and he laughed, going through his pockets. Then he took out his cell phone, fiddled with the screen for a few seconds, and then handed it to you. You read the attached class schedule with a frown. - Bruce! You didn't sign up for half the classes you took last year?

He shrugged, running his hands through his hair.

- Yeah, I think I'll focus more on what I want for college. - He explained a little shyly. - I was getting too anxious about all that stuff. And honestly, you should have done the same.

You made a grumbling sound with your mouth, and started biting your thumbnail as you finished looking at the schedule. You would barely have any classes together. And then you handed the cell phone back to your friend.

- I would do it if I had any idea what I wanted to major in. - You tell him. - It's better to have several interests on the curriculum, so I'll have more course options.

- You can also develop burnot. - He remarked with mild irony, and you laughed, looking away.

The bell for the first class then rang, and the two of you exchanged a look before getting up. Bruce kissed you on the cheek before heading in the opposite direction, and you grumbled lightly as you picked up your book and walked to the chemistry labs.

In the hallway of the main building, a few meters before the entrance to the lab, someone bumped into you. It was one of the boys from the team, who was laughing at something his colleague said. Your notebooks fell to the floor, and the boy looked at you with contempt.

- Watch where you're going weirdo. - He warned and you rolled your eyes.

- You're the one who bumped into me, you brute. - You grumbled angrily. The boy just laughed and walked away.

After picking your books, you stood up. The athletes at your school were jerks, but you didn't blame only them for their arrogance. The rest of the school, including the faculty, treated them as gods, so they behaved as such.

Sighing with impatience, you entered the chemistry labs, wishing that the day wasn't long.

Darcy Lewis had been your chemistry partner for three years. You smiled as you greeted her and sat down next to her. You were not friends, but she was very kind and extremely intelligent. You really thought you were very lucky to have her as your partner, and then, as if the universe would like to laugh at you, Professor Nakia announced that she was switching partners.

The whole class let out a chorus of dissatisfaction, and one student asked aloud.

- Please, Professor Nakia, we have been working with the same people for three years. Why change now?

- Excellent question, Miss Quinn. - Nakia said, smiling. She was at her desk, finishing putting her materials on top. - Three years is more than enough time for you to create tricks to cheat on my exams. 

The room exchanged complicit and guilty looks, and the teacher kept a serious posture.

- The school board found evidence to indicate this. - She explains. - I was very disappointed to learn that there were students cheating on the evaluation method not only in this class, but in several others. You will notice that all teachers with fixed groups will rotate them from now on. This was a decision made by the principal.

You rolled your eyes, annoyed that you would lose your amazing partner and were running the chance of ending up with someone irresponsible or slacker, just because some kids were careless at cheating. The room let out a chorus of understanding, and everyone began to move around as the teacher indicated the new groups. You ended up sitting with a guy named Vision, who you didn't really know, but you knew was quite popular because he was class speaker, and head of the fencing club.

- Hello, dear. - He greeted you as he sat down, putting his coat on the chair. Vision dressed very well; he was part of the group your classmates called "preps”, even if he was usually hanging out with jocks.

You made a noise with your mouth in greeting, but he didn't seem to mind your lack of sociability. 

Fortunately, Vision was a decent chemistry partner. Although he was bossy, and had a habit of interrupting or explaining as if you were stupid, he was intelligent and knew how to do the experiments. You thought that was enough, since you would only have to put up with him in this class.

Feeling a glance at you, you raised your eyes from the notebook, and were slightly startled to notice Vision looking at you with amusement and curiosity, you frowned ready to ask what's wrong, but then he let out a dry laugh.

- I knew I knew you! - he declared. - You're the Presley freak!

Vision laughed lightly nostalgically, and you felt your face flush, turning your attention back to your notebook. He was talking about the Halloween party in freshman year, where you dressed up as Elvis Presley and the track team decided to nickname you "Presley Freak" for the next whole year. The teasing died down after a while, but Vision brought it back as if it were a good memory.

Fortunately he just shook his head with amusement, and didn't mention it again. When class was over, he didn't say goodbye on his way out, but you didn't care.

//-//

The story that all the teachers followed the new norm of switching partners was true. In History, you lost your partner Bucky Barnes to sit with Natasha Romanoff, equally quiet and intelligent. For the most part, you are satisfied with the partners you got. 

But then in fourth period, biology class, you ended up partnering with someone you never imagined.

Wanda Maximoff was one of the most popular girls in school. You didn't really know her. You were classmates during elementary school, and you even became friends with her twin brother in elementary school, Pietro Maximoff, before he became a complete idiot. But other than that, you didn't know much about her. Although you had a strange sympathy for the girl. Unlike the group of girls she hung out with, Wanda never tormented you at school. Or your friends. She was probably fake and sneaky like the others, but she left you alone, so you had nothing against her.

You were pulling your biology book out of your backpack as the teacher announced the new pairs, and you stopped in mid-motion when she said Maximoff and your name.

Wanda sat down beside you the next moment, smiling politely. You shook your head slightly, dropping your backpack on the floor.

Wanda was surprisingly nice. You didn't talk about anything unrelated to the subject, but she was quick enough to catch your ironic glances when Professor Darkholme made an inappropriate comment or a funny remark, and match it with a smile or a look. 

As the class came to an end, Wanda nodded slightly at you, and you smiled back before gathering your materials.

It had been four months since classes had started, and you were already used to your new partners in class. 

Vision was inconvenient in many comments, as if he took pleasure in recalling your most embarrassing moments in high school, but you learned to change the subject quickly whenever this happened. All you had to do was pretend you didn't know about some subject he mastered, only to hear him explain it to you in the most arrogant manner possible for the next few minutes, effectively distracting him.

Natasha Romanoff was exceptionally sarcastic and ironic, and you sometimes you felt that she was a more aggressive female version of your former partner Bucky Barnes. She was quite individualistic, and you had to make an effort not to get left behind, or you had to constantly remind her that you were a duo, but otherwise she was a good partner, and you were happy to invite her to lunch with you, which eventually became a habit after a week.

And then you had Wanda Maximoff. You weren't friends, but you had a strange kind of complicity as biology partners. You never would have guessed that Wanda would have a sense of humor so similar to yours. Two classes in a row, and you already had inside jokes about the way Ms. Darkholme caught the attention of her students. Two weeks in, and you two knew how to cheat your way through assignments. You didn't know how to make friends, and judging by the history of who Wanda was hanging out with, you had the impression that she wouldn't want to develop any kind of relationship with you. And honestly, this was your last year, you wouldn't see these people again, so you were more than satisfied to have just one good lab partner.

With the mid-winter vacations approaching, you were looking forward to getting some rest.

Non-Reader Pov

- God, Wanda, why are you talking about that weirdo again? - interrupted Vision impatiently. His girlfriend blinked in confusion, looking away awkwardly.

- I'm just commenting on a joke we…

- Really, Wanda? - He interrupted again with an accusing look. - It seems like all you do lately is "comment" on your little jokes in class. - He sneers as he settles down on the sofa. The two of them stand together outside the school, their group of friends watching the discussion with amusement. - I don't know why you talk to her at all. She is so silent and awkward with me in chemistry class.

Wanda bites the inside of her cheek, looking forward. 

- I think your girlfriend has a girl crush. - Tony Stark sneered next, making everyone laugh. Wanda frowned, feeling her heart race.

- You are an idiot. - She grumbled impatiently, crossing her arms. Vision looked at her curiously.

- Honey, don't tell me that you actually appreciate that girl? - he asks ironically, and Wanda rolls her eyes without looking at him. Vision laughs. 

And then Tony is holding out a craft-paper covered bottle to Vision, and he takes a sip, coughing slightly afterwards. Wanda frowns at the scene, but none of her friends seem concerned that they are drinking during school hours, as the bottle continues to pass in everyone's hand.

- You know, I think it's sweet that you have sympathy for that freak. - Tony comments a moment later and Wanda tells him to fuck off, making him laugh. 

- I think we are witnessing a beautiful love story. - Mocks Pepper, Tony's girlfriend, approaching the three of them as she sits on Stark's lap. Wanda rolls her eyes, as the group laughs. And then Vision has a thoughtful expression.

- I have an idea. - He says slightly drunk, as he throws his arm around his girlfriend's shoulders. - Let's make a bet.

Tony and Pepper let out excited exclamations, while Wanda frowns.

- What kind of bet?

- Well, you guys remember when the weirdo dressed up as Presley for Halloween, right? - he asked, and Tony and Pepper laughed, agreeing. - And then Pietro saw her kissing that girl who hang with the bikers, Jones something.

- Jessica. - Pepper clarified before taking another sip of her drink. 

- Then we know she's a dyke. - Vision says, but Tony frowns.

- Wasn't she dating that guy with the long hair and the angry face? 

- Barnes? - Vision asked and Tony nodded. - I don't think so. Anyway, she is into girls. - he said and the group nodded in agreement. - I mean the bet is this: I can prove that she is just like everyone else in this school. Give her a bit of our attention, and she will be completely obsessed.

- Vis, what are you talking about? - Wanda asked, and Vision laughed ironically.

- It's very simple, love. - He says. - You are hot. Everyone knows that, and even someone like her, who pretends not to be part of the social circles of this school, can see that. - He clarifies, and the group looks at him intently. Wanda doesn't say that she doesn't like being objectified, swallowing the bitter feeling in her stomach. - So my bet is that you win her over. It should take what, one or two dates for her to be completely in love with you.

The friends laugh in irony and Wanda thinks she should follow, but only a forced laugh escapes. Because of the alcohol, no one notices.

- This is ridiculous. - Wanda comments and then Vision looks at her with irony.

- Unless you're getting attached to the girl, dear. - He sneers, and the group laughs. Wanda swallows dryly, shaking her head in denial. - So, what's the problem? You'll just prove me right. And you will realize that there is nothing special about her. 

- I think we can make this even more fun. - says Tony with a wicked smile. - I bet you a hundred bucks that Wanda will fall in love too.

Tony sneers and the group laughs with irony.

- As if anyone would even like that girl. - Vision declares, accepting another drink. 

- How do we make sure it's working? - Tony asks and Vision bites his lip thoughtfully. Then he lets out an exclamation.

- Our trip! - he says, and then turns to Wanda. - Love, invite the weirdo to the cabin! We can watch you work.

Wanda frowns, but then the group is suggesting ideas of conquest, and laughing, and debauchery, and she hates it. But she smiles, and nods in agreement, accepting the liquor as the bottle comes into her hand.

Reader Pov

You intended to study during the winter vacations. And maybe get out of the room a little if Bruce or Monica visited. Your surprise was genuine when in your last biology term, Wanda Maximoff started talking to you about something other than the subject.

- Hey, are you doing anything this holiday? - she comments amiably. You didn't notice the looks Tony Stark was giving you two from the front seat. 

- Huh... No?

- Are you asking me? - She replies with a smile. You blush, looking away at your notebook. Wanda bites her cheek, and it takes a moment for her to speak again. - I wanted to invite you to something.

You blink in surprise, looking at Wanda. She looks away from the board for a moment, as she wiggles her fingers against her own thigh.

- My friends and I are spending the holiday in a cabin. - She clarifies. - There's all this winter activities, you know. Skiing and stuff like that. I'd like you to come.

- Why? - The question slips out a little harshly, but you can't help it. Wanda looks away, and you almost apologize. But then Wanda smiles, shrugging.

- I'd like to get to know you better, I guess. - She says. - I think it would be fun if we could be friends outside of class.

You look at her suspiciously for a few seconds. But then you sigh, looking down at the notebooks.

- Alright, Wanda. - you say after a moment, ignoring the growing anxiety in your stomach. - Is it okay if I bring a friend?

- Of course! - She confirms excitedly. - You can take whoever you want, it's a big place. 

The teacher gives a warning for side conversations next, and you shut up. You blush when Wanda approaches you to write down her phone number in her notebook. You are distracted enough not to notice her blushing slightly when Tony Stark gives her a mischievous look. 

//-//

- So you actually said yes? - Bruce asked with surprise when you told him about the biology class, while you were having lunch together in the cafeteria. Monica had the same expression.

- Yes, and I would love it if you would go with me, because I think I am close to completely freak out. - You ask with mild desperation and your friends laugh. And then Monica is looking behind you.

- Look, I would be too. They are so... - She starts and you turn around, looking at the group of Wanda's friends a few meters away. The kids are sitting at the table, making noise with their loud laughter. One of them was throwing a football up in the air. A short boy walked past them and was pushed slightly. - I can't even define them.

You let out a grumble, laying your head on your arms on the table.

- This was a bad idea, wasn't it, guys? - you ask. - They're going to eat me alive.

- Why the long faces, nerds? - Natasha asked as she came over to the table, placing the tray of food next to Monica, staring at you. 

And then your friends explained it to her, and you groaned in dissatisfaction when she started laughing.

- You've lost your mind, haven't you? - she asked wryly. - It's a trap, I'm sure.

- There's no reason for it. - You retorted, trying to eat a little. - Besides, it was Wanda who invited me. She said she'd like us to be friends.

- Look, I know that Maximoff is the least worst of the bunch. - Nat began as she opened her soda. - But she still hangs around with those idiots. 

- Yeah, I know. - You agree with a sigh. And then you remember your classes. - I just... She has been surprisingly nice, you know? I think she was being sincere. It's just a trip, it's not the end of the world.

- Good to know you think that. - said Bruce. - Because I won't be able to go.

- What? - You then exclaim.

- I applied for an internship at S.H.I.E.L.D. Labs. - He remarks and you let out a grumble, remembering.

- Shit, it's true. - You say. - I completely forgot about it.

- Girl, I can't go either. - Informs Monica with a guilty expression, and you let out an exclamation. - I'm going to spend the holiday with my father.

You bury your face in your hands. And then you risk a glance at Natasha, and she laughs wryly.

- Don't even try. - She says. - Even if you paid me I wouldn't travel with Tony Stark.

- I'll pay you.

Nat laughs at your desperation, and stops eating, looking at you with surprising kindness.

- You, girl, are adorable and kind. A nerdy cute dork, and I'm sure that if that's not enough for those idiots, they're the problem, not you. - She assures you, and you smile wryly. - Don't worry about pleasing any of them, you're going to become friends with Wanda, aren't you? Try to enjoy the trip, and if anything happens, call me and I'll finish them all off.

You laugh, nodding slightly. You don't want to think so much about this trip, but you know it's going to be the only thing on your mind for the next few days.

The week ended quickly. And you were very anxious when the weekend arrived, and you received a text message from Wanda saying that she would pick you up at home on Saturday morning. You would spend the holiday at the Stark family's winter cottage, a property big enough to fit the whole group. Wanda said it was somewhere with mountains, near a lake, and you bit your lip, wondering if you should bring a bathing suit. Since it was snowing, you figured you wouldn't try to swim anywhere.

On Saturday you were up bright and early, your bags packed. You kissed your parents and your younger brother on the cheek before you left, finding a pickup truck parked in front of your house.

Wanda hugged you when you said good morning to her, and to the boys. Vision and Pietro were in this car, and she said that Tony was in the second car, and had gone for gas.

Vision drove towards the cabin next, and he tried a little small talk before shutting up. Wanda was in the passenger seat, and Vision let his hand rest on her thigh, and you didn't understand the bitter feeling in your stomach.

- God, put on some decent music! - asked Pietro, scrambling up on the seat beside you to reach for the radio.

- Leave it, Pietro! - complained Vision pushing the boy backwards. - You only want to play that emo shit!

Pietro laughed, not insisting. And Vision looked at you through the rearview mirror.

- Let's let our guest choose the music. - he said with a smile. You cleared your throat. 

- Okay. - You agreed, pulling your cell phone out of your pocket. You turned on Spotify next, and when Vision asked if it would be any longer, you bit the inside of your cheek. And then you put on some pop rock.

Nobody said anything, and you thought that somehow you had just passed some kind of test. But then your set list started, and when the classic rock song from the 50's started playing, Vision burst out laughing.

- They don't call you Presley Freak for nothing. - He scoffs, switching to the radio next. 

- I like it. - Wanda comments surprising you, but neither Vision nor her brother change their debauched posture.

- Yes, yes, your taste is terrible too. - He replies with irony. You bite your lips as you watch Wanda roll her eyes and look away to the window. Vision lets Pietro choose the music next.

The cabin was really very big. 

You guys met Tony's car on the way, but he didn't stop. It didn't take long for you to arrive. You smiled in appreciation at Pietro when he carried your bags inside.

You looked at the structure impressed. Tony Stark really was very rich. Hugging your arms lightly after feeling the cool breeze, you smiled politely at Wanda's other friends as they greeted you.

- I am Pepper Potts, and this is Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson. - says the blonde girl cheerfully, as she waves to the other boys. - You must have met Tony by now.

- I think I've seen all of you at school. - You say feeling out of place, but they smile as they walk into the cabin. Tony hands the bags to the other boys, and then is throwing an arm around your shoulders, and you want to push him away for the inappropriate contact.

- It's a pleasure to meet you, sweetie. - He says, and you blink when you feel the alcohol. - Who knew that nerds hid pretty girls with them?

The joke makes the group laugh, and you look around uncomfortably. Tony then releases you as you enter. 

Pepper is the one who shares the rooms, and you are happy to know that you won't be sharing with anyone. 

While you are unpacking upstairs on your bed, Wanda joins you.

- Hey. - She greets me as she enters and closes the door. You're folding your clothes.

- Hi, Wanda.

- Is everything okay? - she asks and you nod in agreement. - They can be a bit much sometimes, and I don't want you to get uncomfortable and... Do you like "Bewitched"?

The sudden question startles you and you blink in confusion. Wanda nods at the item in your hands. The T-shirt you are folding has the logo of the old sitcom you used to watch with your parents.

- Oh yes. - You sigh in agreement. - It is one of my favorite shows actually.

Wanda laughs in surprise, crossing her arms.

- Wow, I didn't know that. - She says. - I love this stuff. Vision thinks the jokes are stupid, so don't tell him I'm talking about it.

She jokes and you let out a wry exclamation.

- Why would I tell Vision anything? - You ask and Wanda hesitates slightly, but then smiles.

- No, it was just a figure of speech. - She clarifies as you fold your shirt.

- Right. - You say, not really understanding this conversation. - If you want, we can watch it together anytime. I think we'll have time to do it here.

Wanda looks at you with surprise and excitement.

- Really? I'd love to. - She confirms, and you smile as you finish packing. 

The redhead clears her throat afterwards.

- I just wanted to check on you anyway. - she says. - I think Steve is cooking dinner tonight, so join us when you' re ready.

- Okay, Wanda. - You say. - Thanks.

She smiles before leaving. You stare at the Bewitched's T-shirt on your bed for a few moments before you leave.

Steve tries to cook some chicken breast. And he almost burns the kitchen down. So you are on your feet, investigating the cupboards, and although cooking is not your favorite activity, you don't mind making some chili for everyone. 

- I love Mexican food. - Wanda comments excitedly as she stands next to you and watches you cook. The rest of the group is in the living room, the boys being very noisy as they throw a soccer ball around the room. You smile at the redhead next to you. 

- God, did you see the picture that Tabitha Smith posted on instagram? - Pepper asked aloud, staring at her cell phone. She was sitting on the kitchen counter, a look of disgust on her face. Wanda approached her and quickly looked at the screen. - She put on silicone, I'm sure of it. 

Wanda made a noise of agreement, exchanging a quick glance with you, clearly not caring one bit about the topic, and you smiled, turning your attention back to the pot. Pepper didn't notice and continued making comments about her classmates' social media posts.

- It's ready. - You announce. Your breath catches in your throat as Wanda puts her hand on your waist, leaning behind your back to taste the food. She lets out a satisfied groan, and you feel her cheeks flush.

But then she walks away next, and you struggle to disguise yourself as the boys are joining you, announcing that they are starving. 

- Wow, this is delicious. - said Pepper as soon as you sat down at the table and started to eat. The group agreed, and you blushed with embarrassment. Soon they started talking among themselves, and you tried to keep up as best you could, but the topics weren't really of interest to you.

When you got back to the room, Tony proposed that you all play a game, and then he went through the storage room and came back carrying monopoly.

At first you thought it would be innocent fun, then there were drinks and gambling. 

- It's a four! - shouted Tony excitedly. - That's my property, Wilson! 

Sam let out a grumble of dissatisfaction as he moved his figure around the board. Tony laughed mischievously.

- So, how do you want me to pay the rent?  - Sam asked and Tony made a thoughtful face. 

- With a question. - Tony announces maliciously. - Among the people in this room, tell me who would you have sex with?

Sam laughs in surprise, as the group gives a chorus of excitement. You swallow dryly, uncomfortable with the direction of the questions. So far, the questions and challenges had been innocent and slightly awkward, but after a few beers, the group was clearly getting more excited in other respects.

- Careful with your answer, friend. - Vision warned, putting his arm possessively around Wanda's shoulders. You looked away to the board.

- That might be shocking for a straight guy, Vis. - Sam remarked with mild debauchery. - But not all of us are looking at the girls.

The group laughs in surprise, and Vision rolls his eyes. 

- I would do Steve Rogers for sure. - Sam declares the next moment, and the group lets out a celebratory chorus. Steve laughs too, slightly surprised. Sam just smiles playfully, shrugging his shoulders. Then Steve steps forward, amusing himself by pretending to kiss him, and the group laughs. You smile awkwardly, not really understanding what everyone thinks is funny.

The game continues, and you are doing very well. You laugh when Pepper has to tell you all about the worst sexual experience she has ever had, but you are slightly uncomfortable when Steve has to demonstrate on a pillow his first time. A few rounds later, you grumble in dissatisfaction when you take a five and end up in jail.

- Whoa, that's has a punishment. - Tony announces when he sees your move. You look at him, and he looks excited. - Finally, Presley, your moment has come.

- Tony. - Wanda scolds him for his nickname, but Tony doesn't listen.

- Let me think about it. - He continues with a thoughtful expression, and then a mischievous gleam takes over his gaze. - Have you ever heard that shy girls are the biggest freaks in the room? 

You swallow dryly, feeling your face heat up as the group lets out a laugh. 

- I will not...

- Don't even start. - Tony interrupts your denial with a smile. - Don't spoil the fun. I'll give you a simple challenge.

You bite the inside of your cheek, frowning as you fight the urge to get up.

- Your sentence of freedom will be to give a hickey to the person who gets a six on the dice. - He declares, and the group lets out a chorus of excitement.

And then everyone is rushing to throw the dice and you cross your arms, feeling your face hot.

- If more than one person gets six, you'll give them both a hickey and win immunity for a round! - Tony laughs as he makes up the rules.

Pepper is the first to play, and lets out a despondent sigh when she draws two.  And then Steve plays next, and complains when the die lands on four. Sam and Tony don't get six either. You hold your breath when Wanda rolls, and feel your heart race when the die stops.

- This should be interesting. - Vision comments with mild irony and mischief as he takes his arm off Wanda's shoulders, picking up the die stopped at six. Tony laughs and you can't keep your eyes on the redhead.

Vision gets a four. And then Pietro gets a six, and you grumble.

- I can't believe you're going to get both of the Maximoffs! - Wilson comments with amusement and you swallow dryly, shifting uncomfortably in your seat.

- Finally some action. - Pietro jokes as he approaches. He kneels in front of you, and you take a deep breath. - Come on, Y/N, it's just a silly challenge.

He tries to reassure you with a smile, and you try to ignore the staring eyes on the two of you. You think the boys are laughing as you bring your face closer to Pietro's outstretched neck, and land your lips on his skin. He smells like aftershave lotion, but it's just embarrassing to be so close. Pietro lets out a breathless chuckle as you begin to suck on his skin, and he clenches the support of the couch.

You stop quickly, and he pulls away. The red skin glows on his neck. He flashes you the seductive smile, and you look away, listening to the group celebrating. 

- Next, please! - Tony says clearly intoxicated. You feel your racing heart echoing in your ears. Wanda gets up from the couch, and unlike her brother, she completely short-circuits your brain when she sits on your lap. You think someone whistled.

- Wanda, what are you doing? - You mumble clumsily, and she just smiles as she puts her hands on your shoulders.

- Don't you like this position? - she asks and you swallow dryly.

- Come on, girls! - Tony tells you between laughs. Someone knocks over the vodka bottle on the floor, making a mess. You think the group is barely paying attention to you, fighting among themselves to save the rest of the board and Tony's expensive rug, but you're not really taking in anything other than the girl on your lap.

You move forward, sinking your face into her neck and inhaling Wanda's scent. When you let out your breath, she trembles and squeezes your shoulder lightly, making you swallow dryly.

You let your lips kiss her skin, watching Wanda's chest rise and fall, indicating her unregulated breathing. And then you lick her skin, and she chokes. When you suck on her skin, she bites her lips hard, stopping herself from moaning.  And then you let go.

Ignoring the urge to kiss the red dot again, you throw your back against the armchair, moving away. Wanda lets out a breath, and before you can say anything, Tony is complaining that the game is over because the board has been ruined, and she rushes off your lap. 

Your face is very hot when Sam makes a snide remark to you, and then you are all saying goodnight. You don't have the courage to look at Wanda when you go up to your room.

//-//

The next day you go skiing. 

You absolutely suck at it, but so does everybody else, so nobody really cares. 

You don't want to think so much about Wanda's hands on your waist when she teaches you how to do it.

You also don't want to be so annoyed when Vision insists on getting a kiss from her while you are walking back to the cabin.

During the afternoon, you are distracted by a video game with Pietro, extremely surprised that he has invited you to do something. After dinner you go back to your room to read a little, and are astonished when Wanda appears at your door a few minutes after you have gone upstairs.

- How about we watch a sitcom together? - She invites you in, and you shrug as you smile, making space for her to enter your room. She giggles when she notices the open book on your bed. - Of course you brought a book.

You laugh awkwardly as you close the door. Wanda throws herself on your bed, opening the laptop she has brought with her. You take the book out and place it closed on the dresser, before joining her, trying to keep a respectable distance.

She ends up putting on Bewitched, and you are distracted enough by the program.

- Wow, that's kind of wrong. - You comment between giggles. And Wanda laughs lightly, turning the program's attention to you.

- What?

- The joke. - You clarify. - The way they imply that it's okay for boys to behave like that.

- Yeah, I know. - She agrees, turning her attention back to the screen. - But we're still laughing.

- Yeah. - You agree, laughing. - I guess it's okay as long as we don't find it funny in real life.

Wanda makes a noise of agreement with her mouth and then you are silent again. 

Two episodes later, Wanda suggests that you eat something. Then you go downstairs to the kitchen, and find the room empty. 

- Pietro had called the boys to play soccer. - She says. - And I think Pepper and Tony are in their room.

You nod in understanding, following her around the kitchen. Wanda starts preparing a snack for you two.

- What is it? - You ask as you observe her choice of ingredients. She smiles mischievously.

- My masterpiece. - She says. - Just trust me, you'll like it.

You laugh, nodding. When she warms the bread rolls, and starts to pour oregano on top you let out an exclamation.

- Wanda, are you sure you know what you're doing? 

She laughs, shaking her head slightly.

- Trust me on this. - She asks with a smile, starting to cut tomatoes. You cross your arms, not believing that you are actually going to eat that.

And then the sandwich is ready, and Wanda assumes a cheerful posture. She puts the bread on a plate and turns to you, leaving the object on the counter beside you.

You take a piece while she takes another, and together you taste the sandwich while Wanda looks at you expectantly.

It's surprisingly good, and you blink in amazement when you feel the taste, looking away from her to the food.

- Wow, that's good. - You comment before taking another bite. Wanda smiles.

- Really? I'm glad you like it. Vision doesn't like it very much, he says it tastes strange.

You grumble lightly, continuing to eat. Wanda pours you two some soda. You are silent for a moment and when she leaves the phone on the countertop to wash the dishes, your gaze runs quickly across the screen as you reach for your glass.

- Hey, are you into poetry? - you ask as you look at the open Instagram post.

Wanda smiles, nodding.

- That's cool, I think we follow the same page. - You comment quickly pointing to her unlocked cell phone. Wanda looks surprised.

When she finishes washing the dishes, she asks to borrow your cell phone. You spend the next thirty minutes laughing and joking as you compare your Instagram feeds and follower list. You don't want to overthink on how many common interests you have with Wanda.

//-//

On the penultimate day you want to build a snowman.

There is a Hockey game on TV, and everyone seems excited to watch. So you just walk out of the cabin while Tony hands out snacks and drinks to everyone.

You are just finishing assembling the body when you hear footsteps.

- You are very antisocial. - Wanda jokes as she approaches, hands in her pockets. You don't want to think about how adorable she looks.

- Yeah, I know. - You comment with your attention on the snowman. - It's not your friends' fault, by the way, I'm just not a big sports fan.

- All right, I don't see what's so funny about it either. - She says as she stops beside you. - Can I help you with him?

- Let me see your hands. - You ask, and she looks at you in confusion, taking her hands out of her pockets. You deny it. - No gloves, no playing. I don't want you to get hypothermia.

She laughs lightly, putting her hands back in her pockets. You turn your attention back to the snowman.

- We can go for a walk. - You suggest after a moment. - Since we're not going to watch the game.

Wanda smiles, looking away to the cabin.

- Okay.

You finish your snowman in silence. It's decent you think.

- I used to do it all the time. - You tell her as you stand up, putting your hands in your pockets. Wanda looks at you curiously. - But then I grew up and my parents thought it was a kid thing.

- Yeah, I know how that is. - She agrees as you stare at the snowman. - One birthday is all it takes for the treatment to change completely.

You nod in agreement, and then you look at her, signaling for you to go the other way.

You walk side by side in the opposite direction of the cabin.

After spending the whole way talking about the most random subjects, you end up at a small pier, at the edge of the lake that covers the entire back stretch of the cabin. You and Wanda sit side by side on the wood cross-legged.

- We should have brought something hot to drink. - You comment with a smile, hugging your arms for a moment. Wanda nods.

- So, are you enjoying the trip? - Wanda asks and you look away, smiling at the lake.

- I suppose so.

- You suppose? - She replies with amusement, making you laugh.

You clear your throat before speaking again.

- I enjoyed the time I spent with you. - You confess, looking forward. Wanda wiggles her fingers nervously, looking away from you to face the lake as well. - Don't get me wrong, Wanda. Your friends are... nice I guess. But they're not the reason I'm here.

You look at Wanda, and she nods frantically. Your heart is racing, but playing games isn't exactly your thing. You want to know what's going on.

- And you? - you ask, studying her face. - Did you enjoy the time I was here?

- Yes. - Wanda confesses breathlessly, her face flushing slightly. 

Swallowing hard, you look away to the lake again. And then you slowly move your hand against the wood, reaching for Wanda's hand next. You give it enough time for her to move away, or to strike you, and she does neither. Feeling your heart soar, you intertwine your hands, holding back a sigh at how good it feels even when wearing gloves.

Several minutes later, you let out an excited exclamation when you hear a noise in the nearby forest. Turning your head, you confirm your suspicions. A small white fox is looking at you curiously. 

You help Wanda to get up quietly and slowly so as not to startle the animal.

- Hey. - You say softly to the animal, walking towards it. The fox looks at you wide-eyed, but your posture doesn't frighten him. You smile when he lets you pet him.

- He is so cute. - Wanda comments softly, kneeling down beside you. The fox lies down on the grass as the redhead strokes his head.

He tires of the attention quickly however, and the next moment he gives you a look before running back into the forest. You and Wanda laugh lightly as you two stand up.

You walk back to the cabin in silence, a tension in the air that makes your stomach turn. You don't hold hands, but you walk very close together. 

When you are almost to the cabin area, you stand in front of Wanda, pushing her by the waist against a tree. You both sigh breathlessly, but you lose the courage. It's not right, not yet. Resting your forehead on hers, resisting the urge to kiss her, you close your eyes.

- Leave him. - You say and Wanda squeezes her hands in your arms.

Wanda lets out a sigh, closing her eyes like you did, and your faces come closer together.

- I won't share you, Wanda. - You whisper against her lips. - Either you're with me, or you're not.

Resisting the urge to close the distance, you sigh and turn away. Wanda's pupils are dilated as she looks at you. You lock your jaw, putting your hands in your pockets. And then you turn around, and disguise it nicely when Pepper comes out of the cabin, asking where you were, and you just smile and say you went for a walk.

//-//

Vision and Wanda argue on the last day at the cabin. 

You frown as your awakened by the volume of the argument. But you decide not to pry, and when Pepper signals for you to join her on her morning walk, you agree.

- You know, you are surprisingly nice. - She comments as you two take a break for some water.

- Thanks, I guess. - You mumble, and she laughs.

- What I mean is that nerds are usually know-it-all types and not at all sociable. - She explains. - You're quiet, but you're fun.

- Who says I'm not a know-it-all. - You retort with amusement, and Pepper laughs as you walk back.

- I'm just saying that it turned out to be nice to invite you over despite everything.

- Despite everything what?

Pepper laughs awkwardly, shaking her head.

- The differences between our groups I say. - She quickly clarifies. You don't perceive the lie. - Maybe there is a chance for us to remain friends after here.

- Why wouldn't we? - you ask confused. Pepper seems to be talking as if it is impossible for you to continue talking to each other after the trip is over, and you don't understand why.

Pepper blinks in embarrassment, and then pats your arm, hurrying her steps.

- It's nothing, I'm just overthinking it. - she says. - I'm sure it will all work out.

You don't ask any more questions because she's walking too fast, and exercise isn't really your thing. You're struggling to keep up.

//-//

After your walk with Pepper, you agreed to let Steve teach you how to play a bit of hockey. And then you all had lunch together, and Wanda avoided all your attempts to start a conversation with her. You figured she was upset with her boyfriend, so you didn't press her.

Later in the afternoon, after you played snowball wars with everyone, and perhaps laughed more than appropriate when Wanda kept hitting Vision in the face, Steve made a fire in the backyard area and everyone gathered around.

- Let's tell some horror stories, please? - Pietro asked as he sat down, and Tony slapped him on the head, laughing. 

- You are such a baby. - he sneered, holding out a bottle of whiskey to Steve. You rolled your eyes, impatient with Stark's annoying mania for proving his maturity.

Then he began to share sex stories, and the group seemed happy to join in. The bottle swirled around, and you let it pass you by without taking a sip. It stopped at Wanda, and she drank much more than anyone else.

- And you, Y/N, don't you have any sinful stories to share with the group? - teased Tony ironically, and you rolled your eyes.

- I prefer to be silent.

Tony laughed at her hostility.

- Now all that's left is for you to say you're a virgin! - he sneered, causing the group to laugh. You exchanged a quick glance with Wanda, who didn't even seem to be listening, the whiskey bottle still in her hands.

- I'm not, but if I were that wouldn't be your business - You retort impatiently. Tony whistles impressed.

- Tell us how it was! - he asks excitedly. - I bet it was Jessica Jones who fucked the weirdo!

You stand up abruptly as the group laughs.

- You're drunk, and you're talking shit. - you say angrily. - But if you ever annoy me again, I will punch you right in the face!

Tony seems slightly impressed by your attitude, but he is clearly drunk so he shrugs his shoulders. You then leave, returning to your room.

Non-Reader Povs

- What is your problem? - Pietro complained as soon as Y/N entered the cabin. Tony blinked surprised and alcoholic.

- It was just a joke, it's not my fault she's weird. - He retorted with a wry laugh.

Pietro let out an irritated exclamation.

- You know what? - He spoke angrily, looking at everyone. - What we're doing is wrong.

- What was that? - Vision sneered, but Pietro looked at him seriously.

- You heard me. - he said, getting up. - She's a nice girl and she's been fun to be with. That bet was stupid.

The teens exchange guilty glances, but then Tony and Vision are laughing.

- One hickey and you're in love, Maximoff? - Vision sneered and stood up, as Pietro clenched his jaw. 

- You're an asshole. 

- Oh, I'm an asshole? - Vision retorted ironically. - This little scene of yours is absurd, treating your friends as if we were the villains of the story. - he says laughing. - The girl is a weirdo who must be absolutely fascinated that people like us even talk to her!

Pietro looks at him impatiently, but Vision does not lose his debauched posture.

- Shut up. - Wanda's drunken speech startles the group. Vision turns to her in surprise, but then he laughs.

- That's excellent. - He says. - Both Maximoffs teaming up against the group.

- You're full of shit. - Wanda exclaimed angrily, getting up, and Vision shook her head. - She's not...

- She's not what dear? - He interrupted. - You know I'm right. In fact, I bet if you go up to her room right now, you won't even need to ask twice and she'll fuck you.

- Vision! - Pietro exclaims angrily, but he stares only at the redhead, who has her jaw clenched.

- Everyone just wants to fuck you, Wandy. - He says. - There's nothing worthwhile beyond that.

Wanda holds back the tears in her eyes, bumping into Vision as she leaves, and the boy laughs, shouting between giggles that he was only joking, but the redhead doesn't turn around. 

- That was cruel. - Potts then said, and Vision let out a wry laugh.

- It was just a joke. - He says and sits back down. - You girls are so sentimental. 

Pietro then leaves, and Vision rolls his eyes. Steve and Sam exchange a look with Pepper.

- You can't really think it's okay to say something like that to your girlfriend. - Steve said annoyed. Vision laughs, incredulous at Steve's insinuation. - What is it, people? - he replies. - I just said she's hot, how is that a bad thing?

- You know, Pietro is right. - Steve said as he got up. - This whole story is absurd. - Steve, come on. - No, he is right. - Sam then agreed. And then Pepper stood up, exchanging a look with Tony. - Good, then. - Vision exclaims angrily. - Be my guests! I suppose you'll start hanging out with the school's weirdos on Monday then. You guys are a joke. Hypocrites. Vision grumbles before exiting angrily, walking towards the trail. The group exchanged a guilty look.

Reader Pov

You had just finished showering and putting on your pajamas when Wanda came into your room. You frowned in surprise, and let out an exclamation when she pushed you onto the bed and sat you on your lap.

- What are you doing? - you asked, and Wanda just grumbled, trying to unbutton your pajamas, but clearly too drunk to do so. - Wanda, stop. Wanda!

- That's what you want, isn't it? - She retorts with irritation, but her eyes are filled with tears. - Everyone wants to fuck the hot girl.

- Wanda, what are you talking about?

But then she's crying, falling against you. You let your arms go around her, trying to calm her down. She only stops crying when she falls asleep.

You don't know what has happened, but you feel your heart clench. Moving to the bed, you lay Wanda down on the mattress, then cover her with the blanket. 

When you consider going to sleep in the living room, she takes your hand and whispers "stay," and you obey her.

//-//

You wake up with Wanda entwined with you. It is warm and comforting, and you smile shyly at the sensation. 

The redhead starts to wake up next, grumbling as she buries her face in your neck, making you smile.

- We have to get up. - You whisper to her. - We're leaving.

- In a minute.

She says and it really only takes a moment for her to open her eyes, and be startled by the position. She awkwardly pulls away from your embrace, but still lies there. You turn on the bed to look at her, resting your face on your hand.

- I'm sorry about last night. - She says embarrassed, looking down.

- No problem. - You say. - But what was that about anyway?

Wanda sighs, running her hands through her hair as she stares at the ceiling, her back on the mattress.

- Vision told me some stupid things, and well, I believed him. - She says and you look at her curiously. With your silence, she clarifies. - It was just some comments he used to make about my body, okay? Things like, people are only interested in me because I'm hot.

You frown, surprised and annoyed. 

- That's bullshit.

Wanda looks at you, surprised that you said something. You look into her eyes as you speak again.

- Your boyfriend is an insecure scumbag who uses your body insecurities against you. It's sick. - You tell her seriously. - You, Wanda Maximoff, are completely passionate for a thousand reasons other than your looks. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise.

You smile at Wanda's surprised expression, letting your fingers wander across her features. 

- Do you really mean that? - she asks insecurely, and you give her a tender look.

- You're sweet. - You start, letting your fingers caress her cheek. - Smart and sincere. You have this different energy, like you never fit anywhere and you're absolutely magnetic. - You tell her. - And of course, you also laugh at my jokes, which suggests that you are as sarcastic and perceptive as I am. 

Wanda smiles and closes her eyes for a second, and then looks at you with almost guilt.

- Can I ask you a random question?

- Sure.

- If someone needed to apologize to you, what would be the best way?

- This is a very specific question, Wanda. Should I be concerned? - You retort with mild amusement, and Wanda quickly denies it.

- Come on, answer me. - She asks, and you giggle.

- I don't know, Wanda. - You say laughing, and roll your eyes slightly. - I guess it would depend on what the person did. - You explain, and Wanda looks at you with a frown. - What's that face, what would your answer be then?

- Food. - She says and you look at her with confusion. - The person would only have to buy me food and apologize and I would forgive them.

You let out a laugh, and Wanda follows. And then you assume a thoughtful posture.

- Honestly, I don't think if there is a right way. - You tell her. - I would like the person to be honest with me, and explain to me what happened. - You say, and Wanda nods with a serious expression. - That, or a really cheesy apology act.

- What? - Wanda asks with amusement.

- Yes, like in those old movies. - You clarify with a slight laugh. - If someone apologizes in the rain, or with a serenade at my window, I would probably forgive that person for the shame they are going through for me.

You and Wanda laugh and then your alarm clock starts to ring, signaling that it was already time for everyone to get up and go home. You sigh slightly.

As you sit up in bed, throwing your feet out, Wanda hugs your back, surprising you.

- Thank you. - She says against your ear. - Don't give up on me yet, okay?

You frown in confusion, laughing without understanding Wanda's seriousness. You squeeze your hands together, but then she lets go. 

- Is everything all right? - you ask as she turns around on the bed and stands up in front of you. Wanda swallows dryly, nodding. She smiles before she leaves, and you ignore the strange feeling that has settled on the pit of your stomach as you stand up toward the bathroom.

//-//

The way back to your house is strangely silent. It seems that all of Wanda's friends have changed their personalities overnight. Pietro gives you a quick hug across the shoulders as you get out of the car, and Wanda kisses your cheek. Vision doesn't look at you.

You call your friends as soon as you finish packing your things in your room. And everyone is extremely surprised when you share what has happened in the last few days.

When you return to school the next day, you are feeling excited. 

Your first class is Biology, which means that you would have some time alone with Wanda, and while you wait for the starting bell, sitting on the benches outside with your friends, Wanda's group passes you by. 

You frown as you notice Vision with his arm around Wanda, and she quickly looks away when she notices you watching. You clench your jaw at the childish attitude, and then you are getting up and walking toward the table they have chosen.

- Can I talk to you? - You ask the redhead directly, who seems to have trouble keeping her gaze on you. Her friends also look awkward, as if they are almost embarrassed, and none of them look at you for very long. Completely unlike Vision, who has a smug posture and a wry smile.

- Leave my girlfriend alone, freak. - He then says, and you blink in surprise.

- What is your problem? - You retort in irritation and Vision lets out a wry laugh.

- What is your problem? - He repeats, getting up and facing you. You don't hesitate, but you don't understand why everyone just stares at you. - What did you think was going to happen, huh? That you would start hanging out with the cool kids?

You look at him in confusion, and then he crosses his arms.

- I just want to talk to Wanda.

Vision laughed, looking mocking.

- You're so stupid. - He accused and you took a step back. - The bet is off girl, Wanda has nothing to say.

You blink in confusion, and the redhead is getting up, pulling on her boyfriend's forearm, but you look at them feeling your heart racing.

- What are you talking about?

Vision laughs, releasing Wanda's grip. You think she whispered "Please don't," but you are trying to understand what is going on.

- Oh, your dear friend didn't tell you? - he asks debauchedly. - We had a bet. I was sure you'd be completely obsessed with Wanda by the end of the holiday, and look at you! Here you are. I don't blame you though, Wanda is hot.

You choke in surprise, taking another step back. You risk a glance at the rest of the group, and they have their heads down, guilty looks on their faces. And then you look at Wanda, eyes watering as she clenches her fists. Feeling your heart break, and your stomach clench, you nod.

- Y/N, I can explain. - Wanda starts and you laugh, running your hands through your hair.

- I've always defended you. - You say, putting your hands in your pockets. - When people told me you were false and deceitful, I defended you. I really thought you were different from them.

- I....

- I can't believe I trusted you. - You say. - Never speak to me again, Wanda Maximoff.

You turned around walking away, ignoring the times the redhead called your name as you held back your tears. 

//-//

Your mother told the school that you were sick.

That's how you felt anyway.

It had been three days since you had left your room. Bruce, Monica and Natasha were sending you all the school content you were missing, and you struggled to keep your focus on that and not on the heartbreak that seemed to take over your whole body.

The weekend arrived again, and you decided to get some fresh air. You were on your balcony, sipping hot chocolate when Nat came into your yard.

- Hey, stranger. - She greets you with a smile, sitting down on the seat in front of you. You give her a sad smile.

- Hi, Nat. 

- How are you?

You shrug, and she sighs.

- It will pass, I promise. - She says and you drink some of your chocolate. - By the way, I'm suspended.

- What? - You ask in surprise, and she giggles, showing you the bandage on the fingers of her right hand.

- I punched Vision in the nose shortly after you left the cafeteria. - She tells you, and you widen your eyes in surprise. - I didn't say anything before because I didn't want you to feel guilty.

- Nat! - you exclaim, slightly upset, looking at her hand. - You didn't have to do that.

- I know. - she says with a slight laugh. - But you are my friend, and he is an idiot. You're a dork who doesn't have the strength to hurt a fly, but I have a feeling you'd do the same for me.

You laugh, nodding.

- I would probably get beat up in reality.

Nat laughs in agreement.

You are silent for a moment, until Nat speaks again.

- I hate to see you like this. - She comments, and you sigh, leaving the coffee mug on the table. 

- I hate feeling like this too. 

Nat sighs, opening her arms. You accept her invitation to hug her, and sit down next to her on the bench, letting her wrap you in a side hug.

- You'll come out of this, dear. - She starts to say as she strokes your hair. - Next year you'll be in college, with so many people wanting to get into your pants that you won't even remember who Wanda Maximoff was.

You laugh shyly.

- I hope you are right. - You grumble, closing your eyes.

- I always am.

//-//

You go back to school the following week.

Your body always seems to notice that Wanda is in the same room as you, even though she is meters away, but you learn to deal with the feeling.

You talked to the biology teacher on Monday morning. Apparently, the news quickly spread throughout the school, and she did not refuse to change your partner. 

It wasn't an ideal scenario knowing that everyone in the school was feeling sorry for you, but at least you wouldn't have to talk to Wanda in class.

And so two weeks passed.

You were almost getting used to the feeling as you walked towards the main building, after stopping by the library and returning the physics books you were using, when you heard a commotion in the courtyard.

There was already a circle of students around, and you were considering turning around, because fights are not really your thing, but you had a feeling you should check it out. 

As you slipped in among the students, you let out a surprised exclamation.

- Bruce! - You shouted as you threw the bag on the ground and lunged forward, but the boy who was fighting with your friend just turned around when you jumped at him, breaking free of your grip and laughing with irony and anger. He slapped you in the face that drew a surprised chorus from the crowd. You staggered back with the impact, feeling your face burn. But you stepped forward again, but he gave you a hard shove that knocked you to the ground. As you got up to go forward again, someone grabbed you around the waist. - Pietro, let me go! Help him!

You let out another exclamation when the boy punched Bruce in the face, but Pietro pushed you away from the fight, and Steve held you by the arms in the crowd. Pietro lunged at the boy next, while Bruce fell unconscious.

You broke free of Steve's grip and ran to your friend, and then there were teachers all around you, and you were all being led into the principal's office.

The counselor motioned for you to sit in one of the chairs to wait your turn, and you used this moment to send messages to your friends. Monica told you that she heard about the fight, but that she was in the history room when it happened. Natasha didn't answer, and when she appeared in front of you, you frowned.

- Nat, Bruce he...

- I know. - She interrupted seriously with an almost tearful expression. - He was fighting for me.

- For you? What?

Nat shook her head, looking toward the direction door.

- I told him not to get involved, but he is stubborn. - She says and then takes a deep breath. - That boy over there, his name is Clint. He's my ex. He... he hit me.

- Whoa, what?

- I know, it's too much to explain. - She says. - Me and Bruce, we... we've been going out for a few weeks now. And Clint wasn't happy when he found out. I told Bruce not to get involved but…

- Hey, Nat breathes. - You interrupt by seeing her eyes filled with tears. - This is not your fault.

You hug your friend, trying to calm her down. It doesn't take long for Monica to reach you two.

Soon the director calls you to give your side of the story, and you just tell him that you arrived in the middle of the fight. As you leave, the principal asks you to go to the infirmary and only then you remember that you were beaten.

You give up the idea of getting a bandage when you find Pietro and the group of friends, including Wanda, in the infirmary, but as soon as the nurse lays eyes on you, she pulls you in, sitting you down on one of the free beds.

She starts grumbling that the students have decided to behave like savages as she rushes over with the first aid kits to attend to all the students who were in the infirmary. You don't quite understand what happened, but it seemed that some kids had made a mess in the pesticide gardening class, so there were several students with red spots on their arms complaining of pain.

- It's okay, I can do it. - You tell the nurse as soon as she approaches you with the first aid kit. She looks at you suspiciously, but then a student at your back lets out a complaint and she sighs, handing the items to you as she leaves. You get up to look in the small mirror on the edge of the bed. There is a small cut on your cheek. That guy really hit hard.

While you were preparing the alcohol swab, Wanda walked over to you. You stared at her reflection in the mirror.

- I can help you with this. - She said about the bandage.

- I don't need your help. - You retorted harshly. Wanda looked at the floor. 

- I am sorry. 

You blinked in surprise, and turned away in irritation.

- No.  - You warned, and Wanda swallowed hard.  She looked at you, ready to start talking again, but then you shook your head. - Don't you dare.

- Please…

But you left right away, bumping into her shoulder.

Almost four weeks, and your chest still hurts just the same. 

You think the nurse has called you, but you keep walking towards the exit. 

When you reached the outer courtyard, you collapsed. 

Sitting on the floor, and trying to control your breathing and your crying, you were startled when someone touched your shoulders. Monica didn't ask questions, she just hugged you.

- I can't do it, Mon. - You said between sobs. - I love her so much it feels like I'm going to suffocate.

- Shh, it's okay. - Monica tried to calm you down as she ran her hands down your back.

- Why can't I move on? She hurt me, why can't I stop loving her? - you asked in desperation. Monica just kept calming you. 

- I know it feels like the end of the world now. - Monica says. - But I promise it will pass.

You cried for a few more minutes, trying to push or smother the pain away. It wasn't fair the way Wanda had your broken heart in her hand.

//-//

Bruce did not suffer any serious injuries.

You visited him in the infirmary as soon as he was released from the principal's office. He was worried about your swollen crying eyes, but you assured him that everything was fine.

And then he told you that he was in love with Natasha, and that Clint had been expelled. You shook his hand, saying that everything would be all right now. Soon Nat was in the room with you, hugging Bruce, while you went out with Monica to get something to eat.

The week passed quietly after this. 

Your friends started the "Moving on squad", and they did everything to keep you distracted and well cared for. It was sweet and caring, and it was enough to keep your feelings well under control.

A few days after that mess, you needed to buy tomato sauce for your mother and found Pietro Maximoff in the supermarket checkout line.

- Hey. - He greeted you politely. You felt your heart race at the possibility that he was with his sister. 

- Hi, Pietro. - You answered in the same tone.

You were checking around for signs of the redhead, but Pietro was alone. He said something about the prices, and you just grumbled in agreement, and then it was your turn.

In the parking lot, while you were unlocking your bike, he approached you again.

- I want to apologize to you. - He announced as he approached, and you let out a sigh.

- Look Pietro...

- No. - He interrupts with a quick smile. - I meant it. I'm really sorry. You're a nice girl, and we were idiots. 

You stare at him for a moment, then go back to picking the lock.

- Is that all?

- Yes. - He confirms with a wry smile. But when he turns around, you call out to him.

- I... Thank you for that day. - You say. - You pulled me out of the fight. I probably would have got hurt if... what I mean is... 

- It's all right.- He interrupts with a smile. - It was nothing. 

You nodded and he smiled, turning again and walking away. You finished unlocking the lock and got on your bike.

//-//

The next week you were surprised to find a box of chocolate in your closet.

Nat exchanged a mischievous look with you, and you rolled your eyes absentmindedly, opening the package. It didn't have a name on it, and only said "you are cute". 

- I can't believe you have a secret admirer. - Monica commented excitedly when you told her during lunch. Bruce and Natasha were sitting next to you, laughing lightly as they talked among themselves.

- Neither do I. - You comment with humor. - But the chocolates were good at least.

- I think it’s sweet. - She comments with a smile, and you shrug, blushing.

- It's weird. - You say with a slight laugh, and Monica squeezes your red cheeks lightly, saying that you're adorable, making you laugh. - Damn, I'm terrible at these things.

You start talking about the upcoming exams after that, and then the break ends.

It is in the last period of PE that you speak with Pietro again several days after you saw him last.

- Hey. - He greets you with an excited nod. You smile politely as you tie your shoelaces. 

- Hi. - You say as he joins you.

- Are you going to the game on Saturday? - he asks, causing you to frown. 

- I'm not...

- My god this guy never gives up. - He interrupts with a scowl, looking at something behind you. You turn your head to see what it is, and notice Vision talking to Wanda several feet ahead, near the bleachers. The redhead looks impatient, and you feel your heart ache just by looking directly at her. Shifting your gaze back to Pietro, you notice that he is still grimacing. - They've been broken up for over a month and he still keeps insisting.

You blink in surprise and Pietro looks back at you.

- They broke up?

- I thought you knew. - He quips, slightly surprised, and then shrugs his shoulders. - They broke up that day in the yard. Wanda slapped him in the face in front of the whole school, everyone talked about it for weeks.

- I'm not really into school gossip. - You comment and Pietro laughs.

- Of course not.

You stand up next, your gaze quickly shifting to Wanda, but you disguise it by looking at Pietro, who has an expectant expression on his face. Then you remember the question and let out an exclamation, running your hands through your hair.

- I'm not into sports, Pietro. - You tell him and he nods in understanding, looking upset. - But I like the food. And Natasha loves the games, so maybe I'll show up with my friends there.

Pietro lets out an excited exclamation, and gives you a pat on the shoulder, saying he hopes you can make it, before heading out onto the court. 

You ignore the nervous feeling in your stomach when your gaze meets Wanda's on the other side of the court, and you quickly turn away, starting to do your exercises for class.

//-//

You were slightly surprised by Natasha's outfit. She was covered head to toe in school colors, down to a commemorative hat and matching socks. You looked at her with a raised eyebrow, but she just smiled as she pulled you by the hand to Monica's truck.

- How is the story about the secret admirer going? - Nat asked as you sat in the back seat, and Monica drove to school and Bruce fiddled with the radio.

- I received flowers on Wednesday. - You tell with a smile. - And a collection of special gift vouchers.

- What are these? - She asked curiously, and Monica laughed lightly as you felt your cheeks flush.

- It's a special kind of ... eh ... vouchers for hugs, kisses, that sort of thing. - You mumbled clumsily and Natasha laughed.

- My goodness, look at your face! - She laughed. - You are loving how corny this is.

You grumbled with a hot face, turning your gaze to the window. Bruce chose a very good song next, and your friends started singing along. It didn't take long before you joined them.

//-//

The school stadium was quite crowded. Senior year games always had scouts from universities, so you weren't surprised by family members, and well-dressed strangers in the stands, as well as faculty. 

- Wow, Mom is going to have fun today. - Monica commented as two you walked to the bleachers. She was looking at her cell phone, and showed you a picture of two glasses of wine that Maria had sent her. - She has a date.

- Have you met them? - you asked curiously, and Monica made a noise with her mouth of agreement.

- She's from the Air Force. Very pretty and fun, and she treated me very well. - She told you with a smile. - I hope everything works out between them, Mom deserves to be happy.

You nod in agreement and then you find empty chairs. Bruce and Natasha join you many moments later, carrying the food. 

- Yay, fries. - Monica says excitedly as Natasha distributes the food among you.

The band then enters the stadium. And the crowd seems excited, you and Monica laugh at Natasha's excitement.

As soon as the band makes their formation, the cheerleaders enter the field and the crowd cheers. You try not to look at Wanda so immediately, but that is exactly what you do. When they are all in the center, and finish the performance with lots of applause, the director gets up on the stage and starts announcing the game.

- And without further ado, West View High let's...

The principal is interrupted abruptly by one of the students. You and the audience watch intently as Pepper nudges the principal on the shoulder, and he turns around confused and surprised. She smiles innocently as she quickly takes the microphone from his hand.

- We had a slight change of plans, West View. - she announces, smiling. And then the band is moving on, and you recognize the music quickly. It was an old rock song. The audience sings along excitedly, surprised and in shock, but still happy with the music. 

As the music plays, Pepper turns back to the director, and they discuss something. He lets out a sigh and shakes his head, and she gives an excited little jump, and then is joining the cheering team again.

When the song ends, it is not Pepper who comes up to the podium with the microphone, but Wanda, which generates a lot of comments from the audience.

- Is that? - Natasha starts and you feel your stomach turn.

- Yep.

- Hello West View. - Wanda begins looking nervous, the audience looks at her in anticipation. - Many of you must think me a complete bitch after the rumors that surfaced a few weeks ago.

- Oh my God. - You mumble clumsily, feeling the stares of some people on you. 

- I think I should explain what happened. - Wanda says tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, and ignoring the comments from the audience, she continues talking. - My ex-boyfriend and my best friends decided to make a bet. - She explains, and you clench your jaw. - He bet my friends that if I gave even the slightest bit of attention to our colleague, Y/N Y/L/N, she would become obsessed with me in one weekend. - The audience seems shocked by the confessions, but Wanda was looking at you. - The funny thing is, it was the exact opposite. Y/N is this amazing girl, sweet and caring, and I can't stop thinking about her. It must be because I am completely in love with her. - She confessed, and you felt your eyes fill with tears. - But I blew it. I was mean and cruel, and I'm sorry. I'm here to apologize to you Y/N, and you don't even have to forgive me. I just wanted you to know.

The audience erupted in murmurs at the confession, and you were in shock to react. Wanda was also teary-eyed. 

A mixture of "forgive her" and " start the game" and various other comments began to grow louder, and then Director Fury was approaching Wanda, and asking for the microphone back. She took one last look at you, before bowing her head and walking off the field. The audience let out a mixed chorus of celebration and sadness, and then Monica was pushing you slightly, and you waved frantically as you hurried to catch up to Wanda.

- I can't believe you did that! - You shout at her as soon as you reach her in the gymnasium hallway, the noise of the game starting muffled by the distance.

Wanda turns around in surprise, wiping away tears.

- I just...

- When I said the perfect apology would be like a cliché, I can't believe you took it seriously. - You comment as you approach laughing lightly. Wanda looks surprised at your friendly posture. - You are such a dork.

And then you kiss her as you bring your hands to her waist, and she sighs in astonishment, but responds the next second, trembling as your tongues touch. 

You push her against the wall of the hallway, and she slips her arms around your shoulders, melting into the kiss. You separate your mouths for breath.

- I'm sorry. - She asks again with her eyes closed. - I'm really sorry.

- I know. - You agree breathlessly. - Just... don't ever do anything like that again. 

She nods in agreement, kissing you again. It's delicious the way your tongues feel together, making your head spin. You are blushing because Wanda is sighing and making a warm tightness rise in the pit of your stomach.

- I love you too, Wands. - You confess against her lips and she opens her eyes in surprise, you look at her with a smile. - I guess ever since you laughed at my joke in biology class.

Wanda lets out a short laugh, her eyes sparkling with joy.

- I love you. - She answers by kissing you quickly. - I love you. - She repeats and starts depositing kisses all over your face, making you laugh. She repeats and repeats until you kiss her again, intensely this time.

You stay like this for several minutes. Exchanging not-so-innocent kisses against the gymnasium wall. Until the first half of the game is over, and you hear the sound of the players returning to the locker room, and then Pietro is reaching for you, making a false threatening posture when he notices your swollen lips, and Wanda's lipstick on your face.

- Please get a room. - He then jokes, continuing on his way to the locker room. 

You and Wanda agree to leave the stadium, wanting to enjoy some time together without the stares of the audience on you.

You two end up in the back of Monica's truck, staring up at the stars, your hands entwined.

- So it was you who sent the presents. - You conclude by looking at Wanda quickly, to catch her blushing cheeks.

- I was trying to find a way to talk to you. - She explained, turning to you, releasing her hand only to stroke your cheek. - That's why I made the voucher “worth a conversation”.

You laughed lightly, looking at her fondly.

- I liked the kiss coupon. - You say with amusement and she raises her eyebrow, smiling. 

- Yeah? - She replies, bringing your faces together and stealing a lingering kiss from you.

- Best one.

Wanda laughs, pulling away a little. You swallow dryly, watching her carefully. 

- What happens now? - you ask, and Wanda looks into your eyes.

- I don't know. - She says. - But I hope we'll be together in the end.

You smile, nodding. 

- We will. - You assure her before adjusting your position to embrace her. Wanda snuggles against you, enjoying your warmth.

[widow-maximov]

hi! i love your work and was wondering if you’d write a one shot where reader is thor’s younger sister and it’s her first time visiting earth. she’s clueless and doesn’t know how anything works 😩 wanda and nat get super smitten and eventually fall for the reader 😳 can we also get some protective big sister hela ♥️♥️♥️

Goodbye forever..

Pairing: Natasha x Wanda x Reader

Warning: Language, fluff, little bit of angst :3

Summary: First time visiting a place and being left by your brother, Thor for safety, falling into hands of Natasha and Wanda, will they help you adapt?

Word count: 4.1k

My requests are always open so feel more than welcome to pop in a suggestion for the next story :3

⸻⸻⋙☸🗲⋘⸻⸻

"Asgard is in danger at the moment so I had to bring her down here Stark" Thor explained as you stood not far from him as you looked around.

"That's not what I'm saying, she doesn't know anything here and I can't babysit her, I am a busy man if you haven't noticed" Tony raised his concerns.

"I'm not asking you to babysit her, all I need is for to stay here until Asgard is clear from whatever is putting it in danger" Thor had that charm at convincing people to what he wants, which was working on Tony.

"What if she leaves or something? Or accidently hurts someone with her powers, she's still young and doesn't know her full strength" Tony was sitting down as he slowly started to crack, but there were doubts.

Thor looked back at you as you stared at the one of the tools that were laying around "She is young but she has been trained by me and Loki but if you're still worried, Wanda knows how to control her powers so she can train her and just keep an eye out. She is the strongest so she can easily over power her"

There was a moment of silence as Tony thought "Okay, I will brief Wanda about this"

Thor smiled widely as he was quick to give the rather smaller man a hug "I will be back as soon as possible"

Tony nodded with a small smile himself as he asked for Wanda, Thor turned towards you and took couple steps towards you which caught your attention "Y/n"

You looked at him with a smile "Brother"

"You'll be staying here for now until I came back from Asgard" He place his hand on your shoulder.

"I could help you fight in Asgard, you don't need to leave me here" Convincing Thor was a lot more harder than anyone really thought.

"We already spoke about this Y/n and you know my answer to that, I will try to visit but until then I'm ordering you to stay here and you can't leave" Thor stood straight as he slightly tensed when this was mentioned again.

You nodded, it's not like you had a choice and he nodded back "Good" Just in time Wanda walked in as she saw Thor since he was blocking you from her view, he turned with a smile at her sight, to which Tony walked out.

He hugged you "They will take care of you don't worry"

You nodded once again as you let a tear slide down your cheek, this was a big change, you didn't know anyone here and you was slightly afraid but only slightly.

He moved to the side to which now Wanda had a full view on you "Wanda, that's Y/n, you'll be training her. They will brief you now I have to go" Tony explained as he walked out.

Wanda raised her eyebrows at Tony but her gaze shifted to you and Thor to which she took couple steps, Thor rolled his eyes at Tony "Well anyways, this is Y/n as Tony said, she will be staying here for some time before I came back so I just need you to keep an eye out and keep her out of trouble so Tony doesn't try to kill me"

Wanda nodded as she smiled at you "Okay, that's not a problem, If I understood from what Tony said I will be training her?"

He nodded "Yes, she has powers even though she has them under control but just in case, just give her some tips or something"

Wanda wanted to know why you were here but she didn't want to cross any lines, she will find out if you tell her and that's what she will stick to.

"Well I have to go.." He stated as he awkwardly waited for Wanda to stop staring at you.

"Okay, I will show her around then" Wanda looked at Thor with a smile as he nodded, he gave you the last hug and walked off.

You followed Wanda around as she showed you everything, your room, meeting room, party room, training room, anything that she knew of, the last was the living room where most of the team was.

No one knew you were Thor's sister and you didn't know they didn't know so you just went along with it, as soon as you walked into the living room, the TV caught your attention.

Wanda stood near the kitchen as she faced you "Well this is the living room where the team usually relaxes after missions"

"And there is the kitchen to make food, usually I cook since they can barely make toast without burning it" She pointed towards the door that led to the kitchen.

You looked and smiled "Thank you, I think I understand everything now"

She nodded "Well if you have any questions, you can ask me"

This pulled the teams attention toward Wanda, their eyes landed on you and they quickly gathered around the two of you "Who is this?" Steve asked as he crossed his arms.

"This is Y/n, Thor brought her here from Asgard for the time being, so she will be staying with us" Wanda simply explained.

They all nodded and Wanda asked again "So Y/n do you have any questions?"

You nodded with a small smile "Yes, why are there people stuck in a box?"

Natasha frowned in confusion "People stuck in a box?"

You nodded as you pointed towards the TV "There, they seem to be frozen"

Natasha along with everyone looked over to see what you were talking about, Natasha tried her best to keep her chuckle in as she looked back at you "It's a TV, this is already recorded so we are just watching back"

Your lips turned into a perfect O shape as you nodded "Oh that's definitely new"

Sam held his face as he stared at you "You don't have TV's in Asgard?!"

You shook your head "That is not a thing, no. We have advanced technology there"

"Well, besides that I'm Steve" He reached his hand out for you, you looked at Wanda a little clueless to which she giggled slightly and showed you what to do.

You smiled widely at the hand shake, and then moved to Sam and Bucky and Bruce, they all shook your hand but when it came to Natasha, you leaned down and kiss her hand as she introduced herself.

They all stared at you with shock, Natasha didn't pull away which was more of a shock for the team, you turned back as you looked at the team "Is this not normal for people to do?"

They shook their head with awkward smiles "Not really, unless you're are rich and you're looking for a business deal"

You nodded slowly and looked over at Wanda "Don't worry I will teach you everything"

You gave a quick nod as you excused yourself to go back to your room, to which the team went back to watching the movie but Natasha lingered near Wanda.

"What is it Natasha?" Wanda asked as she knew it was her.

"Do you mind me tagging along?" The redhead didn't waste any time.

Wanda looked at her with her brows raised "Really? But why?"

She shrugged "I have nothing else to do"

Wanda tilted her head "Didn't you just tell the team you were overloaded with mission reports?"

"Well they aren't interesting unlike our new female recruitment" Natasha leaned on a door frame as a small smirk made it's way to her lips.

"Yeah okay, it will be easier with another person around" Wanda nodded to agree and started to prepare things to cook.

⸻⸻⋙☸🗲⋘⸻⸻

For few weeks, Natasha and Wanda trained and taught you how to be more human, which you really appreciated. It wasn't as bad as you thought this stay would be, you grew fond of the two women quite quickly.

The witch and the former assassin felt the same, well they were more aware of what those feelings were but for you it was a lot more harder to understand why you wanted to spend more time with them than the rest of the group.

The two women started to fall in love with you and each time it was harder to hide. The team had their suspicions to which they were confirmed each time.

There was this one time...

"Okay, we need to somehow get some clothes for Y/n" Tony stated as he tried to think of a loophole.

You was standing in front of him, being quiet and just waiting for them to come up with a solution, your attention shifted to Steve "We can always just go shopping with Y/n"

Bucky raised his brows at Steve "As if you know anything about women's fashion"

Steve frowned "I rather think of myself as an expert"

Sam laughed "Yeah an expert in messing up, she would look like fashion show gone wrong"

Tony even manged to crack a smile at the comment "Sorry Steve but no"

Steve dramatically huffed "You guys are so mean, you need to give me a chance"

A voice spoke up from behind them "Give you a chance for what Steve?"

You turned around at the familiar voice, as you saw Wanda and Natasha walk in, a smile spread across your lips at the sight of them and you waved at them and quickly going back to your serious face after they wave back.

"It seems like Steve wants to buy me clothes" You spoke up for the first time since you was called in her.

"That's a terrible idea" Natasha spoke up this time as she walked past Steve with Wanda and stood next to you.

"Thanks for the support Romanoff" Steve sounded offended at the comment, earning a laugh from Wanda.

"You know what, just leave it up to us Tony, we will take care of this little issue" Wanda proposed the idea to which Tony quickly agreed and went on with his little project.

And so Wanda and Natasha snuck you out and went on a shopping spree to find you better clothes. You looked like you were from the medieval rather than from this century so a new wardrobe was in desperate need.

You ended up buying a lot of clothes and decided to explore a bit before coming back, you had like 10 bags in one hand and it was still light to you, it was pretty impressive and definitely Natasha with Wanda admired the way your muscles would flex.

The amount of dirty jokes Natasha had to swallow down, Wanda didn't even need to look into her mind, she was thinking the same thing.

You stopped abruptly as you looked at the creature before you "Stay behind I will protect both of you"

Natasha nearly bumped into you to which she peeked to see what you were talking about "Protect from what Y/n?"

"That creature" You narrowed at the dog that was walking lazily with it tongue out.

Wanda looked at Natasha with a smile at how cute you were with your knowledge "It's a dog, not a creature Y/n/n"

You looked over at Wanda "A dog? It wont try to attack us?"

She shook her head with a smile, she pulled the woman's attention who was walking the dog "Sorry, do you think my friend can pet your cute dog?"

The woman was quick to agree with a big smile across her lips, Natasha kneeled down and you followed her lead, she placed her hand over yours, you felt goose bumps at the contact and she placed your hand on the dogs head.

"See, it just loves pets" Natasha spoke softly to you as she watched your reaction.

You were sceptic at first but gently petted the little dog, a smile slowly appeared across your lips as you looked over to Natasha, inches away from her face, if heart eyes were real Natasha would definitely have them in that moment.

"It's harmless.." You stated out practically with disbelief.

Wanda smiled as she placed her hand on your shoulder, she felt her heart melt at the scene in front of her "Okay, let's go and grab something to eat"

You looked at the woman in front of you and thanked her politely "She really trained that creature very well"

"Why do you call it a creature?" Wanda asked curiously as she linked her arm with yours and so did Natasha.

"Well in Asgard we have Fenris Wolf, they are a lot bigger but very violent and it did look like Fenris so I was worried it would try to hurt you both"

They were melting, the way you felt like you had to protect them from a Fenris Wolf and put yourself in danger first, it was adorable and there was slight worry in your tone.

"Well" Wanda spoke with a huge smile "Thank you for worrying"

You smiled back and looked between the two women who were on either of your side "You shouldn't thank me, ladies should be treated like treasure"

An innocently precious look settled across the two women's faces at your words, their eyes filled with adoration and love, you were perfect and that's what they loved about you.

Or this time...

You had woke up pretty early, having your mind set to preparing breakfast for the two redheads, you wanted to do something nice for how they both took care of you and always made sure that you felt a little bit less loner here.

You knew how to cook but it was a little difficult to make anything here with earth ingredients, that didn't mean you would give up, you make sure Natasha and Wanda taught you how to use something called internet, you managed to search up videos and taught yourself how to make food.

With a smile at your success, you delivered your food to their beds, Natasha and Wanda shared a room together which made it a lot easier to give them your hard worked breakfast.

You memorized the way they did their coffee and quietly walked inside their bedroom, with food and coffee in hand. You placed it down as you slowly started to wake the women in bed.

Wanda was quicker to wake up, she sat up as she stared at you "What is wrong Y/n/n?"

Natasha slowly stirred as she opened one eye and looked at you and half awake Wanda, she never was a morning person so she groaned at being woken up.

"I have made food for my two favourite ladies" You stated simple with a innocent smile.

Wanda rubbed her eyes and finally was able to take in the smell and the sight of the food, it was waffles with blueberries and whipped cream, it was both of their favourite.

She looked at you again "Thank you Y/n/n"

She looked over at Natasha who had a smile but her eyes were shut "Yeah thank you Y/n I really appreciate food in bed"

"You welcome Lady Natasha"

Wanda giggled at how you called her "You didn't have to do this"

You stood up as you walked over to the food and give Wanda her plate and Natasha as well "Nonsense, I will be forever grateful how yous have treated me, with most care and respect so I shall give back something as well"

Natasha smirked "You should definitely feed me if you want to give back something"

Wanda raised her brows at Natasha's comment to which you proceed at her command "Anything you wish for Lady Natasha"

Natasha chuckled as she waved her hand to dismiss you "I was joking Y/n but I appreciate your dedication"

"You are most certainly welcome" You bowed down in front of them, earning nods and slight giggles.

This was just a pure moment between the three of you, something that the redheads treasured and adored, it was those moments that made them realise how important you had become to their simple lives, you bright them up and surprise them each time which was new compared to the boring days on earth.

If we were to go through all of the times, we would be here for days, but the point has been made to why the team had their suspicions.

Weeks turned into months and you definitely was better and had a better grasp on your powers, you learnt their language properly and slang which made expressing a lot more easier.

The only thing you struggled was your feelings, asking was a lot more complicated since you didn't quite understand what you should even ask, you wanted to just be with them and when you learnt about something called kissing, it never left your mind.

To understand it better you searched everything they had on kissing on the internet, realising it's something you wanted to do, something you wanted to experience with Wanda and Natasha.

So now that you understood that, you were determent to ask about it to Wanda and Natasha, making your way towards the meeting room where they were.

You opened the door and almost immediately they looked up at you "Y/n/n what brings you here"

You felt hot just at them looking at you "Lady Natasha, Lady Wanda" You bowed as you always did.

Natasha noticed your nervous to which she stood up and Wanda followed, she walked over to you with a soft smile "Why are you nervous Y/n?"

You smiled nervously at her "I wanted to talk"

Wanda followed right after with a soft smile just like Natasha's "What do you want to talk about Darling" They slightly trapped you in between them which you didn't mind at all.

You took a deep breath and just as words were about to leave your mouth, a familiar voice to you spoke up but to the redheads it was unknown "There you are Y/n"

You turned to face the voice as Natasha took a step in front of you along with Wanda, her hands ready to fire away with red mist, what took them off guard was your question "Sister Hela?"

They looked back at you with shocked faces, the tall woman stood in the same place but just opened her arms for you, to which you gladly took, you hugged her.

Living on earth for long and having company made you forget that Asgard even existed in the first place "What are you doing here?"

"I will get to that in a second, right now I want to know why these two trapped you?" The protective sister was activated as she death stared the two women in front of her.

You pulled away from Hela as you looked in the direction of the two redheads "They didn't trap me, they are cool don't worry"

"Cool?" Hela questioned as she raised her brows at you "Is this the language they teach on earth?"

She shook her head "I knew your brother did a mistake taking you here"

Natasha crossed her arms "I'm sorry but who are you?"

She looked with no emotions at Natasha "Hela Goddess of death?"

"Doesn't ring a bell" Natasha spat out with a cold glare.

"Thor's sister?" She answered but more in a question tone.

Wanda looked from you to Hela as realisation hit her "If you are Thor's sister... And Y/n is your younger sister.. That means Thor is Y/n's brother"

You nodded simply "Yes, I thought everyone knew"

Wanda facepalmed herself "Of course! That's why you were so clueless of everything on earth and your powers! You are a goddess"

Wanda looked up at you with the most huge smile anyone had witnesses, she was impressed and surprised at her discovery, Natasha spoke up with a smile "Damn she's more badass than we thought"

"Well, this interaction seems nice but I'm here because it's safe to come back to Asgard, Thor sent me to fetch you" Hela cut in before this can go any further.

You looked at Hela "Asgard is safe?"

She nodded with a smile "Yes, you can come back home"

Those smiles that were on the redheads lips, fell almost instantly at Hela's words. They didn't want to lose you, there was an obvious pain in their hearts at this news but they decided to stay strong.

You nodded at her "Is brother Thor here?"

"Yes, I believe he is talking with some people inside, so now let's go so you can say your goodbyes with everyone" She spoke up as she placed her hand on your shoulder.

"Okay sister" You agreed as you looked over at Natasha and Wanda.

"We are right behind you Y/n/n" Wanda spoke up through the pain in her throat, she was going to break and she didn't want you to see.

You nodded and your sister led you towards the rest of the people, you hugged Thor as you commented "Nice haircut, I really like it"

He laughed "Thank you Y/n, the long hair was really hard to fight with"

You nodded and pulled away, so you started off by saying goodbye to everyone, they had grown pretty attached to you and your weird outbursts, they grown to love you as you and your food.

The last two people that were left were Natasha and Wanda, you walked over to them. You wished you had realised what you felt towards them and acted on it before you had to come back.

They both hugged you, each face on your shoulders as you whispered "I wish I could stay more but it isn't my choice"

Natasha had a sad smile as she whispered back "Everyone has a choice детка (baby)"

You pulled away and looked at Wanda who let tears finally slide down her face, you wiped it with your thumb as you looked into her eyes "I will miss yous"

Wanda nodded as she chocked out "We will miss you too, make sure to visit more often"

You nodded and finally returned next to your brother and sister, you couldn't stop your heart practically breaking at the sight of Wanda's eyes looking like a waterfall, whilst Natasha tried to act strong.

It felt like everything was muted until Thor spoke up "Have you gathered everything important Y/n?"

You looked up at him, in this moment you knew what to do "No"

He tilted his head "Well then go bring that important thing to take with us"

"It's impossible" You stated.

"How so?"

You looked over at Hela who had a proud smile across her lips "Are you sure Y/n?"

You nodded as you wiped a tear from your cheek "Okay, what's happening that I don't know off"

"Forgive me brother but I will not go to Asgard because I'm not leaving what's important to me" You spoke up with more confidence.

There was a gasp from practically everyone in the room but you only heard Wanda's "I am staying here because this has became my home when you left"

You looked back at the two redheads "I don't want to leave them because they are important to me and I think I might have feelings for them"

Thor had a smile across his face so when you finally looked back at him, he spoke "Okay Y/n, I'm glad you are able to decide for yourself and what you need"

His gaze shifted to the Russian and the Sokovian "I'm glad you found a home in these two"

You looked back with a smile as you made your way towards them and finally blurred out "I want to kiss yous"

Wanda giggled whole heartedly as your outburst as Natasha giggled with her brows raised perfectly "Are you sure?"

"You said everyone has a choice, so I chose to want to kiss the both of you" You said in one sentence so nervously to which Natasha proudly smiled and pulled you into her face, kissing you and you kissed her back gently, just like you were.

You pulled away and instantly Wanda collided her lips with yours, guiding you and preventing herself from deepening the kiss in front of everyone, she pulls away, leaving you wanting more, just like whenever you would spend your time with them.

"Okay okay, enough" Hela spoke up with slight disgust in her voice, causing the three of you to look over and turn the whole room into giggles.

"But I swear if my little sister ends up heartbroken, I will haunt you two redheads to the rest of your life" There was seriousness in Hela's tone and they both respectfully nodded, acknowledging Hela's words.

This time you were saying goodbye, not to the people you met here but to your previous life and welcoming the new beginning with open arms....

⸻⸻⋙☸🗲⋘⸻⸻

If you want to join my tag list, click here and enjoy my future posts.

Tag list: @eilarch, @wandanatblogs, @madamevirgo @diaryoflife, @theprassebox, @daenerys713, @wymer, @marvelwomen-simp

[procrastinatingsapphictrash]

Flirting with the intern (1)

Series masterlist

Word count: 1263

Genre: idk, probably a mix of angst of fluff

Pairing: Natasha x fem!reader

Warnings: None (let me know if I need to add any)

Summary: You’re Tony’s new intern and Natasha seems to take an interest in you when you’re bartending at a party.

A/n: Hi so this wasn't a request but a lot of you seemed to like this blurb I wrote and I was bored and had writer's block so I came up with this series, hopefully you like it! I will try to update fairly often but no promises (I also have no idea where I’m going with this so feel free to give me ideas). Also if you aren’t on my regular taglist but would like to be tagged in this series, or you are on my regular taglist but wouldn’t like to be tagged in this series let me know, I will not be offended. Anyways I hope you enjoy!

She gets bored of the conversation, eyes wandering around the huge room until she spots you serving drinks to some of the older gentlemen over by the bar. You’re pretty and she admires the dress you’re wearing, noticing with disdain that the men at the bar are doing the same, not at all subtle in the way they leer. You look uncomfortable but handle the situation gracefully, handing over their drinks before walking away, rolling your eyes.

She doesn’t recognize you which is odd. She makes a point to be able to match everybody’s face to their name, a habit formed by years of not trusting others, and there’s no way she missed anyone, much less a cute girl.

“Who’s that?” she asks Steve suddenly, only noticing after she speaks that she interrupted his conversation with Bruce. Oh well, she muses, it’s not like talking about the differences of desserts now and when Steve was born is a particularly important topic over conversation.

Steve doesn’t frown but his forehead wrinkles a little. “I don’t know. You should ask Tony, he probably knows.” Steve pauses, thinking a second. “Or he has absolutely no clue. Either way you should ask him.”

Natasha nods and looks around the room to find Tony. Luckily he seems sober and is pretty close by, talking to Pepper and Rhodney.

“Hey,” she greets as she walks up.

“Hi red,” Tony responds and Natasha gives him a slight glare at the unwanted nickname, being slightly more lenient than usual because she needs something from him.

“Who is the girl working at the bar?” she asks, getting straight to the point.

Tony waggles his eyebrows. “Why? Do you think she’s cute?”

“No,” Natasha half lies (she does but that’s not the only reason she’s asking), “I like to know the names of everybody so if something goes wrong I know exactly who did it. She is obviously an employee of yours but I’ve never seen her before so I would like to know who she is.”

“Spies,” Tony mutters under his breath before speaking louder. “Her name is Y/n and she’s my new intern.”

“What happened to Sarah?” Natasha asks. Sarah wasn’t extraordinary in any sense but she worked hard and Natasha could admire that.

“Couldn’t handle the pressure and started crying in the labs a few days ago saying it was too hard and she wanted to quit, so I told her she no longer had an internship.” Tony explains.

“Which is why you are going to be more understanding and less hard on Y/n.” Pepper interjects, giving Tony a look. “This is your fourth intern in three months. It doesn’t look good for the press if none of your interns like the program or pass it.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Tony waves his hand around. Natasha has no doubt that if he is unsatisfied with your work he’ll take away your internship as well, without considering Pepper’s words.

“Well thank you for your help Tony, I’m going to go talk to her and see what I can find out now,” she tells him, starting to walk away.

“Spies,” Tony mutters again, shaking his head fondly as he watches her go.

---

“I’ll take a shot of vodka, neat,” a sultry voice says and you spin around to find yourself face to face with the feared assassin and possibly most beautiful woman to ever exist, Natasha Romanoff.

“I-um, er-” She lifts an eyebrow delicately and you fall silent.

“You do know how to do that right?” she asks sarcastically.

“Of course,” you tell her, more confident after taking a breath. You busy yourself with making the drink which doesn’t take long at all.

“Here you go, um-” you flounder, unsure of what to address her as.

“Agent Romanoff,” she says, sticking out her hand for you to shake.

You lean over the counter and shake it. “Y/n.”

She hums thoughtfully. The view as you leaned over the counter was not bad and she wonders if you were showing off on purpose before brushing that idea out of your head. You seemed nervous early and your body language didn’t suggest anything flirty. Still, she couldn’t help but try her luck.

“A beautiful name for a beautiful girl like you,” she says and you feel heat rise in your cheeks and turn your head away so she can’t see your reaction. It’s useless of course and barely hides you at all but she finds it adorable that you tried and also adorable how flustered you get at one generic pick up line.

“Um, thank you,” you tell her, trying not to stutter. She bites back a smile. Just when she thought you couldn't get any more adorable you do, all cute and shy.

She winks. “Just the truth sweetheart.”

You nearly choke on your own spit when you hear her words. If you didn’t know any better you’d think she was flirting with you. But that is impossible because she is so much better than you that the thought alone is completely ridiculous.

“So how are you finding Stark industries so far?” she asks, switching the subject. As much fun as it’s been flirting with you she can tell she needs to tone it down a little if she doesn’t want you to combust.

You blink a few times at the sudden change before speaking. “It’s been quite an experience so far even though I’ve only been here a few days. Tony is definitely as brilliant and eccentric as everyone says and I think I’ve learned a lot and I’m excited to learn more.”

She laughs, a sound that makes you want to hear more. “Tony definitely is eccentric, but as long as you go along with it he’ll love you. And if you get on Pepper’s good side Tony will be scared to fire you.”

“Thanks for the tips,” you say surprised, “Pepper is definitely scarier than Tony.”

“Oh for sure,” Natasha- Agent Romanoff agrees, “but don’t let him hear you say that.”

“Don’t let who let you say what?” Tony asks, standing beside Natasha and throwing his arm around her. She immediately steps away, brushing him off.

“I was just warning your intern about how utterly stupid you can be sometimes,” she tells him, “I want to prepare her properly so she doesn’t leave or get fired like the others.”

She walks off and you watch her go, not noticing how entranced you are until Tony clears his throat.

“So Natasha huh?” he asks and you look at him wide eyed.

“I’m sorry Mister Stark, I don’t know what you mean.” you play dumb.

He shakes his head. “You’re not the first and you definitely won’t be the last, I can’t say I don’t blame you.”

“Mister Stark?”

He sighs. “Just be careful around her kid, I wouldn’t want you to get hurt.”

You nod as he leaves the bar as well. The rest of the night you think about the weird exchanges you had with both Tony and Natasha. Everything you had heard about the Black Widow was that she was cold and unfriendly but she seemed pretty nice to you, especially with the weird almost flirting thing she was doing. You know it wasn’t real, you watch as she makes the rounds of the room and has everyone practically falling over her feet, but it felt real and when she smiles in your direction from across the room and makes eye contact you know that you are way too close from catching feelings, which is always a bad idea.

---

next part >>>

Taglist: @fayhar@xxxtwilightaxelxxx@acertainredhead@madamevirgo@megaqueenmaeve@cherryblossomskye@aaron-despair@chickenhavewisdom@emril-osvigne@nyankitty987@agathaharkness-simp@midnight-lestrange@thewidowsghost@nyx-aira@stephanieromanoff@satxnsupreme@likefirenrain@wlwlovesreading@natashadeservedbetter@stop-drop-and-drumroll@peggycarter-steverogers@casperlikej@redswing@mochamoff@king-star@blackbat2020

[runnfromtheak]

begrudging self-love retrospective

tagged by my loves @bitterleafs and @epistemologys

"Rules: It’s time to love yourselves! Choose your 5 (or so) favorite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc.) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought to the world in 2021. Tag as many creators as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome works!"

I wrote more than I thought this year tbh, so this will be a bit hard because a lot of my works were brain infestation passion projects that consumed me until I released them.

#1, of course, is a fic I am beyond proud of. My longest, my best, and my piece for the 2021 JayDick Summer Exchange: A Dwindling Mercurial High.

It was beyond fun delving into the different post-crisis periods and developing a case fic with twists and turns that surprised most people while delivering on the angst I am known for. It also has multiple endings for the lovely crow, and also because I couldn't see anyone way the case could end. Exploring Dick trying to uncover Gotham's post-Bruce Wayne mysteries while exploring Jason Todd grieving and trying to understand the dichotomy of Dick Grayson really helped me understand both of them better. It was a passion project, and I loved every minute of it.

Coming in #2 is my late offering to the still-active Catradora fandom that I adore far too much. Adora's such an interesting and complex character that I had to write out my take and it kept spiraling and spiraling as I got more and more in touch with who Adora is at her core. First and foremost, it is a character study, but it's also a bit of a tragic love story at the moment as Adora tries to let go of the one constant she's always had.

This one will be finished by February, hopefully, as my interests fluctuate but my need to explore Adora more remains constant.

#3 is a prayer for which no words exist, created in celebration of one of my best friends' birthdays (ico) and inspired by the works of Richard Siken from his collection Crush. It was a bit more project with coping mechanisms than most fics are, but I think that made it more raw and relatable. Writing it felt very intimate, and in ways, I think the fact that Dick is grappling with trauma most people can't understand but copes in ways we all do helps us understand him better. He's sad and pining, but he's trying to be strong because no one else is around to pick him up. And at the end of the day, be it romantic or platonic, don't we all just want to be loved and accepted?

#4 is my contribution to aggressively arospec week, which celebrates those on the aromantic (a label I personally identify with) spectrum and the works they create around such things. I really, really, liked how this fic turned out and how people responded to it. Part of writing is throwing emotions into the void in hopes of reciprocity, or even understanding. Sometimes, it's a need to release emotion, and sometimes it is a need to let others know they aren't alone. This was a mix of the two, and I'm delighted it helped people. <3

#5 might be a bit suprising. Majority of my fics are JayDick, with some rare-pairs cast in between, but this fic is dedicated to another of my best friends' birthdays (the wonderful Q aka @withthekeyisking-writer) and an exploration of the way I view one of the most deliciously problematic pairings people hate to love and love to hate: of course, I'm talking about Sladick. It may not be Alabama-style fun times, but it's deliciously dangerous and sexy in a way I didn't know I was capable of writing. It pushed the boundaries of my writing style and made me innovate a bit and grow a lot. Beyond that, it made me realize sometimes Dick just needs a Zaddy to make him stop angsting. Q, my dear, you're entirely to blame for my corruption.

I have (2) honourable mentions:

and

These are both fics I didn't think I was capable of articulating outside of my imagination, ones that seemed too big and grand for me. not to mention they are polyamorous, OT3-centric, fics which is very intimidating to write. Two people in a relationship is difficult, especially finding a good ebb and flow with clashing personalities and keeping them both in character. 3 or 4? Infinitely more so. But, the writing in them is beautiful to me, and I am so excited to continue them and develop these relationships that have come to mean so much to me. I'm proud that I am trying new things, and developing my style further and further. So, yeah.

Now back to my regularly scheduled self-loathing mwahahahahaha

taggin @luthienluinwe, @withthekeyisking-writer, @nightwingvixen23, and @stevieraebarnes in case some of you haven't already done it. Lmfao good luck!

[donutloverxo]

My moon and stars

**not my gif**

Please note that my work is not to be reposted or published anywhere other than my Tumblr or AO3 account without my permission. Reblogs are most welcome though!

Note - this is for @our-marvel-universe's birthday! I'm so sorry I'm late and that I'm bad at summaries.

Divider by @writeyourmindaway

Date posted - 26-08-20/Wed

Summary - Steve swoops in and saves your birthday with some stargazing and confessions.

Pairing - Steve Rogers x reader

Word count - 1386

Masterlist is linked in the bio!

You groaned as another person bumped into you, spilling a good amount of their drink on you. They didn't even bother apologizing, probably thinking that you're just a nobody, even though this was your party.

You had never had a huge birthday bash before or tons of presents, you were so naively excited when Tony told you he was throwing you one and inviting the whole city. You felt for some reason, they're here because they care for you or the super hero work you do everyday.

You couldn't be more wrong. Most of them didn't even know you. Your own family and friends, other than the Avengers had failed to show up. Now you could only look at the crowd of people and shake your head in disappointed.

Resisting the urge to punch Tony in his stupid face when he so smugly asked, 'You like the party?'

You would've, despite everything, but he wasn't here. He was gone on some stupid mission. Not that you cared that much. He wasn't yours, he didn't need to wish you a happy birthday or attend your party. You still couldn't help but hold out hope that you'd both stop dancing around each other.

No longer interested in the party where even the people you knew were completely drunk you made your way over to your favorite part of the compound.

You held on to your jacket a little tighter as you shivered, the wind messing up your fancy hairstyle. You looked up at the sky to see so many twinkling stars and beautiful colors, something you don't get in cities. You wouldn't trade this view for anything.

You instantly became alert when you heard someone stand behind you. You looked over your shoulder to see the man of your dreams, your captain, someone you had a hopeless schoolgirl crush on.

"Hey." Was all he said giving you a pathetic wave as you huffed.

Folding your hands over your chest you asked "Where were you? You didn't even tell me you were leaving. Not - not that I'd care why would I?" You stammered as you feared you had just accidentally revealed your deepest secret. "You're not that important Steve!" You yelled in an effort to backtrack.

He furrowed his brows before giving you a stupidly handsome smile, "I'm so sorry doll. But I'm here now. Tell me how I can make it up to you."

"Whatever. It doesn't matter." You said dejectedly as you turned around to lean against the railing and continue your stargazing.

"I just knew you'd be here when I didn't see you at the party.” He mumbled under his breath as he stood next to you. You could see him staring at you through your peripheral vision. “What’s wrong kid?”

You winced at the nickname. That’s what he thought of you, that’s all you’ll ever be to him. A Kid. Over the months, you had tried your best to act like an adult, taking some tips from Maria and Nat, to be cool and non-chalant, you doubted he’ll ever change his mind and think of you as a woman or a possible romantic partner.

You shook your head which only made him probe further. “Doll. You’re sulking on your own birthday. You can talk to me.” He assured you putting his hand over yours.

The warmth of his palms and his finger drawing patterns on the back of your hand felt so familiar and comfortable. You tried looked for his sparkly blue eyes best you could in the dark, his pupils blown wide.

“I used to think... I know this is childish but I thought - I don’t know people appreciated me putting my life on the line everyday. And that’s not why I do it obviously.” You had to clarify. You could pretend to hate him but you never wanted him to have a low opinion of you. “It’s just sad that no one sees the work that I do while you’re all so well known and beloved. It’s sucks to be a female avenger I guess” You shrugged.

He gave you an understanding smile and walked a step closer to you as you tried to calm your heartbeat. “I understand. It’s not childish. You deserve to be appreciated. And I can think of at least a couple hundred people who’re thankful to you. All the lives you’ve saved. You make the world a better place.”

“I don’t know how true that is.”

“Well you make my world better just by being here.” He argued.

“Steve,” You shook your head, “You can’t just say things like that! I’m not – it gives me false hope.”

“False hope?” He repeated cocking his head to the side. “I only ever speak the truth sweetheart. In fact I think it’s time for your gift.” He pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to you.

You frowned as you tried to read the paper in the low lightening. “Oh... Steve.. you named a star after me?” You looked up at him to see him sheepishly scratch his neck. “That’s so romantic.” You sighed dreamily holding the document close to you.

“I asked around and Bruce told me I could do that. I could even get you a piece of moon but this felt more appropriate. I know how much you love stars.”

He rambled on about the whole process and how his assistant helped him, hoping you wouldn’t see notice how red he was. His gift wasn’t completely selfless. He had an objective, to make you his forever and ever. But he was too scared to ruin the relationship you two did have and lose a precious friend.

Bucky’s words echoed in his head ‘Real men can admit their feelings.’

He cleared his throat “I was hoping –“ he was cut off by your cool lips pressing against his, stealing his breath away. His hands naturally went to your waist to pull you closer to him, his taut body craving the warmth of your soft one.

You pulled away after a beat and blinked up at him. “Oh god, I’m so sorry. I didn’t think I thought...”

“No no I liked it. In fact I was hoping to do that.” His fingers traced the outline of your lips.

“Good.” You nodded not sure of what to say next. But it felt better to just not say anything at all and look back up at the beautiful sky in comfortable silence.

Until the whole team decided to ambush you from, you heard Clint and a drunk Tony sneaking up on you, they really weren’t as sneaky as they thought but you still humored them by acting surprised.

“What the hell girrrl? We’ve been looking everywhere for you. But then I was like we can just ask FRIDAY! So we did.” Tony grinned proudly as his words slurred.

You took the beer bottle away from him “Yeah I’m going to cut you off now.”

“What were you doing here though?” Clint asked and you said something about needing air.

Steve couldn’t help but stare at you as you talked to the rest of the team. Feeling a bit of jealousy and even frustration that they all had to interrupt the precious moment you both shared.

“Did you do it punk?” Bucky asked slapping a hand on his shoulder to get his attention.

“Uh yeah. I mean I didn’t – she did.” He replied lowly so no one else could find out just yet.

“Of course she did.” Steve frowned as his oldest friend clutched his stomach, laughing loudly at him. “After all these years you still haven’t changed.” He shook his head and all Steve could do was smile. “I’m happy for you.” He said and meant it, so proud of his friend.

When Steve was finally able to get you alone, glad that your mood had gotten considerably better, you even seemed to be a bit buzzed from the booze.

“You were right Steve.” You said holding onto his arm treating him like your own personal heater as the night got cooler. “Everyone who matters to me does appreciate me. Especially you.” You leaned up on your tippy toes to peck his lips before scurrying off to tell everyone about the star named after you.

Tags will be in the reblog! Click the link in the bio to be join the taglist or shoot me an ask/dm. Comments and feedback are really appreciated! ❤❤

[dangerousconnoisseurdonut]

When a Demon Seduced an Angel

Context: this is a (rather large) snippet from my own prompt in which Bruce is an adorable and fierce Angel who, instead of having fluffy, white, birdlike wings like all the other angels, has black, leathery bat-like wings and is tormented for it. To show the other Angels that he is good and not a demon in disguise, Bruce has taken on several high risk missions on his own, and successfully stopped numerous demon campaigns. Unfortunately, this causes the demons and their generals, The Legion of Horribles and the Brigadier Generals, Jim and Alfred (who all, strangely enough, have birdlike wings unlike their demon underlings) no small degree of vexation. So they catch him and present him to their generals... and they are stunned! This cute, little baby bat is the one causing so much trouble? Jim is the one who suggests they take the pup’s loyalty and twist it to them. The others agree, and this is Alfred’s ‘session’ with the cute little Angel.

Alfred made sure he had everything set up before allowing the pup to be brought in; the candles were lit, the wine was comfortably chilled, and his secret weapon would be in full view of the pup when it was time. He knew exactly how to make that pup sing like a nightingale, Jim and Victor thought they had broken through with all their Daddy Play the other day but he was going to have the pup leave his body by the time he was done. He looked up when some demon grunts brought the boy in, more than one sporting bruises and scratches. He wondered about the ‘All-Father’s’ sense of humour in creating such an intoxicating creature and putting him on the side of the angels. The white clothes he had been captured in had done nothing for his skin, but the dark clothes he now sported showed off his creamy skin, his dark hair, and beautiful dark green eyes. The boy was sin personified but he was on the side of the Bible humpers; he wondered if the boy was supposed to be the ‘great reward’ for being good, wholesome, and all around boring. He certainly appeared to be a tall glass of holy water.

He watched as the underlings maneuvered Bruce until he was in the center of the room, removed his shirt, and attached to a hook hanging overhead. Alfred smirked as he watched the pup try and get his balance; he had arranged the hook so that Bruce would only be able to stand on his tiptoes and any kind of struggling would have the boy flailing in the air. And Alfred could foresee a fair bit of struggling. As a gift however, he nodded that those beautiful, butter soft leather wings be released of their harness. He heard Bruce sigh a little in relief at the release of pressure and smiled as he came into view of their baby bat.

“Comfortable?” He relished in the glare he received in return as the pup responded,

“If I was in anyway comfortable, I would be home right now instead of being surrounded by demons.”

“Such attitude when we’ve done our best to make sure you were comfortable.”

“Oh yeah; those chains you used to pin me down and keep my wings bound the other day were really comfortable.” Alfred merely shrugged and replied,

“You tried to leave without saying goodbye pup; that’s bad manners and Victor and Jim had to get tough with you. Though, judging by your reactions, you didn’t mind being their ‘Daddies Boy’.” Alfred smirked as Bruce blushed and looked away before continuing,

“Tell me, Brucie, what do you know of the senses?” Bruce glared at the ‘Brucie’ bit before responding,

“They are a faculty by which the body perceives an external stimulus; one of the faculties of sight, smell, hearing, taste, and touch.” Alfred rolled his eyes before yawning and responding,

“Figures an angel would give such a dry description of something so essential. I think you need a little lesson on the senses.” So saying, Alfred produced a red silk blindfold and wrapped it around Bruce’s eyes.

“First, we are going to start off with two of the most disregarded senses; taste and smell. You ever eaten pup?”

“Of course not; angels have no need to eat so why waste the time?” Bruce responded as he tried to keep track of the demon.

“Demons don’t have to eat either Baby Boy; we do it because we enjoy it, something I doubt you’ve ever actually done. So, let’s see if I can’t help you understand our enjoyment of the act. We have a chef down here that is so good; it’s said that when her husband sold his soul for some idiotic reason, she offered her own soul that she could make a dish that would bring tears to Mephisto’s eyes. Poor dear didn’t realize that Mephisto didn’t have tear ducts but the meal was so good, when he took her soul, he placed it in the kitchens, allowing her to try all manners of dishes. Last I checked, she’s never been happier, and she hopes you’ll like what she made up for you. She made you a lovely herb encrusted lamb with some lovely roasted Brussels sprouts, some creamy herb mash potatoes, and a lovely purple cabbage salad with cranberries and mandarin oranges to cut through all the richness of everything. To start you off we have a lovely, refreshing chilled watercress yogurt soup that will do a lovely job of waking your taste buds up and for dessert, she made a delicious blueberry and lemon tart that will top things off beautifully. On the off chance you don’t like the tart, I also have some lovely strawberries and cream, which is a favourite of mine.”

“I really don’t see the point in any of that; angels and demons feed on cosmic energy, we have no need for such things.” Bruce retorted at the food listed. He honestly had no concept of any which had been described to him, and didn’t see the point in consuming human food that would not give them any extra energy.

“That’s the whole point; decadence, doing things not because you have to or because it serves some kind of function. Doing them simply because it feels good, which you are about to get a lesson in, so open up.” Bruce didn’t want to but knew the sooner he indulged this demon and showed him how pointless such a thing was, the demon may get irritated enough and send him away. He opened his mouth and let the demon place the spoon with the cold soup on his tongue before it was tipped down his throat. He had to admit, there was an interesting flavour to it and it was rather refreshing

“You like that?” Bruce was fairly certain he could hear the smirk on the demon’s face so responded,

“I never said humans don’t know how to prepare food to their liking, I just don’t see the point on wast- hmph!” Bruce suddenly found the spoon back in his mouth with more soup as the demon responded,

“I can see that I have my work cut out for me in teaching you about indulging; fortunately for you, I have the patience of Job, so we can keep at this for however long it takes.” Alfred took a mouthful himself before giving Bruce another. It wasn’t long before the soup was done, and he wondered how the stubborn angel would deal with the lovely rack of lamb. He cut off a nice sized piece of the medium rare lamb and held it first under the angel’s nose so he could get a good whiff of it.

“That, my pretty little bat, is a perfectly cooked medium rare lamb. For humans, the scent alone can be enough to get their mouths watering and scent is a powerful memory trigger so, the next time you are around humans, you will remember this scent and remember that a demon was the one who woke these senses up in you.” When Bruce opened his mouth to retort, the piece of meat was tucked into him mouth and the forced closed as Alfred instructed,

“Now, we don’t choke but it can be uncomfortable to swallow a piece of meat like that whole, so take your time in chewing it, but just let it sit on your tongue for a minute, let the flavour of the meat, the herbs, the tender sauce all mix together on your virgin tongue, and try to tell me that it’s not worth savouring and eagerly awaiting the next bite.” Bruce did as instructed and let the meat sit on his tongue, and couldn’t hold back the moan as the flavours seeped into his tongue and it felt like there were fireworks going off behind his eyelids.

“Told you so, didn’t I?” Bruce slowly chewed the piece of meat, indeed savouring it before swallowing it and taking a moment to collect himself before responding,

“Yes, it’s good, but angels aren’t meant to indulge in such things; it’s wrong!” Alfred swallowed his own piece before replying,

“If it’s so wrong, Brucie, then why did the ‘All-Father’ give you taste buds? Is it wrong on the same level as those who condemn homosexuals? I know more than a few angels who would like to see them down here.”

“No! No, the All-Father loves us all! He wants us to love each other, not hate!”

“Then those angels are wrong in their condemnation?”

“Yes!”

“Then why are they right about their opinions on food right? Or their opinion of you for that matter?” Bruce shrunk in on himself so Alfred sighed and gave him another piece of meat, this one with some of the mash potatoes, creating a lovely combination of flavours. After a couple more bites, he gave him some of the salad, and he seemed to enjoy the refreshing acidity. Soon, Alfred poured the conflicted angel a refreshing glass of wine and pressed the rim to his lips.

“This is a delightful little wine that pairs beautifully with lamb that offers the restraint to complement the delicate, gamey flavor of lamb and the deliciously jammy sweetness to go with the fig-port sauce. And so help me if you give me some speech about how angels aren’t supposed to drink spirits, I am going to get a Succubus in here that will tease you for hours, and even you can’t handle that.” Bruce whimpered as he parted his lips and allowed himself to take a few sips, finding it bracing and actually quite nice.

“Now, you ready for your dessert?”

"I would... like... to try... them both, since I’ve never actually had fruit, though I’ve noticed humans enjoy it.” Alfred smiled as the pup asked for something he wanted, even displayed a little greed and gluttony as the pup wanted to try both, and cut a small piece of tart before presenting it to him. He parted his lips and took the tart with the firm crust and enjoyed the sweetness of the blueberries and the zing from the lemon. Alfred then took a piece of strawberry and scooped up a bit of cream before presenting it to the abandoned angel. He watched as Bruce seemed to enjoy the strawberries just a tad more, so he grabbed another piece and, when he opened his lips, he used the strawberry to trace the pup’s lips. As confusion fluttered over the pup’s face, Alfred very casually asked,

“Did you know that some people consider certain foods to be aphrodisiacs? They are seen as being able to arouse a person. Strawberries are one of those foods; I suppose it has something to do with the juiciness and some say that a ripe strawberry, after you’ve bitten into it, looks a lot like a woman’s pussy.” Despite the fact it should not have been possible, Bruce found himself choking on the strawberry he had just gotten.

“You alright love? You want some more wine?” Bruce didn’t know how a demon could sound so innocent, but this one pulled it off quite well.

“Humans enjoyed using food for sex long before we even dreamed of it. I happen to know that it was some decadent woman in Greece who one day, tired of her husband ignoring her, actually started inserting grapes into her pussy. She and a slave boy had a lot of fun trying different foods, right up until her husband killed them both. It was a little closer to modern times when they started using things like whipped cream and chocolate spread, something I’ll have to be sure to bring next time as there’s more than one part of your body that would look good covered in chocolate and cream. Now, if you’re done eating, I think we are ready to help you learn about your next two senses; hearing... and touch.”

To Be Continued...

[bigskydreaming]

Something I don’t think I’ve ever seen explored but that could be a possibly interesting subversion of the common conception that Dick is Bruce’s favorite, even according to his other children:

What if the things they viewed as favoritism were really just overcompensation? For instance, when Dick and Bruce started being presences in each other’s lives again after Tim became Robin, it was a gradual thing, they only slowly kind of got used to being around each other again over time. As I’ve often said in the past, my big gripe about this, and why I so intensely dislike all of that being framed as Tim being a catalyst for reuniting them, is its precisely BECAUSE of how it all played out that way, that Bruce....never actually needed to apologize or make amends to Dick or even ASK for him to come back....which compounded the fact that he’d never really ever gotten around to doing all of that because of the conflict between them for other reasons before Jason’s death happened.

And I do think a lot of that has to do with Bruce’s tendencies towards self-flagellation, though this doesn’t excuse it. I honestly do believe that it’d be perfectly in character if the reason Bruce never apologized for all that even then was because he didn’t think what he’d done WAS forgivable, so it felt....false to him, to try and ask for forgiveness. What this fails to consider though, is that apologizing, making amends, TRYING to make up for what you did to the other person.....its not about WHETHER or not they forgive you, or think they can.

Its simply about acknowledging wrong and harm done, and saying....you’re sorry. You regret it. You know it was a mistake and that you can’t take it back, but you just want them to know you’re....not unaware of the harm you caused.

After that, yeah, the ball is in their court, but if you never actually put that out there, how are they ever supposed to truly KNOW that you know that? Believe that?

How can people ever be asked or expected to grant forgiveness when its so commonly depicted as though for the people who hurt them, even just ASKING for it is harder than it must be for the people who WERE hurt to GRANT it?

But Bruce is very much someone who believes that actions speak louder than words, so I could see someone taking the angle that he tries to EXPRESS his regret to Dick in other ways, through various actions and behaviors with or around him.....which could be construed to others in the family as displays of favoritism....

Because they’d have no way or any reason to think of them as attempts at amends or expressions of regret, like they would, say, if any of those similar behaviors were exhibited around Jason - whether they were accepted by Jason or brushed off. Point being, they would GET that this was what it was with Jason, because they’re all aware Jason is angry at Bruce for very specific things, with most of them being aware what MOST of those things are (definitely not counting the ending of UTRH). 

(And just pointing out here again for emphasis since its not like I tack it on as a qualifier in all my posts, but I honestly hate how frequently various parts of fandom decide one character or another is Bruce’s favorite or worse, that this is OKAY, like its not a fundamental problem if he definitively has a favorite. Of course that creates divides in a family. To me, ideally, a healthy Batfam has no favorites, they just have members of the family who are more favorite to them in SOME ways than in others. 

For instance, I also dislike the idea that Damian is Dick’s favorite, but I don’t think the closeness of their relationship is threatened or mitigated by acknowledging that the bonds between Dick and his other siblings are just as strong, just in different ways. That its ‘special’ with Damian in a way it isn’t with the others because of how close they got that year Dick practically raised him, that makes the nature of their relationship different. But its equally ‘special’ with Jason, because Jason was Dick’s FIRST brother, they were each other’s first family beyond just parental figures, there’s a significance to that which doesn’t just go away, and still neither of those undervalues the fact that Tim and Dick spent years being close as the only two brothers, who had only each other and Bruce, and Bruce sometimes being emotionally or even physically unavailable to turn to making it that much more necessary for them to turn to each other, essentially, between Jason’s death and return and even after Cass became a presence in their lives, due to her usually going to Babs for the kinds of things Dick and Tim would work through together, and then of course Cass is Dick’s only sister which puts her in another category altogether, not better or worse, its simply that Cass is neither Dick’s brother nor was she ever a Robin so they have a relationship that for example, whatever else it consists of, will never be defined or threatened by any of the issues that have plagued the family when it comes to the Robin succession. And Duke and Dick’s dynamic of course is still basically just whatever the hell you individually decide it to be because hahahaha what if you wrote them interacting for more than like, one issue only, DC HMMM?

Point being - FUCK family favorites. The whole idea is stupid and toxic and IMO fundamentally incompatible with an actual healthy, functional Batfamily, so it kinda blows my mind when I see people UPHOLDING the idea of this character being so and so’s favorite or everyone knows Dick is Bruce’s favorite and Jason is Alfred’s favorite and Damian is Dick’s favorite....no. Why. Stop that. They can all be special to each other in entirely different ways for entirely different reasons. Family is not a zero sum game. And none of this means that there aren’t some of them who just GET ALONG better than they do with the others at sometimes, or like these two just tend to have more fun with each other, or this is who this one usually goes to when this happens, etc. There’s nothing wrong with that, that’s good, it just means.....things are different between different members of the family. That doesn’t have to equal FAVORITES though. Favorite to share this particular activity with? Sure. OVERALL though? Miss me).

ANYWAY.

Detour aside and circling back to my point.....say for instance the other kids see Bruce appear to be making an effort with Jason, singling him out for praise or acknowledgment....its not hard for them to imagine reasons WHY Bruce might be doing that, which don’t automatically equate to an insecure conviction that Bruce just loves Jason more than them and he’s his favorite....because there are other explanations, other reasons why Bruce might feel a need to act differently with Jason than he does with the rest of them, things unique to their dynamic. Similarly, say for instance Bruce is written making a particular effort with Damian to acknowledge him - there’s lots more angles to spin it as than just favoritism, they had a very rocky start everyone in the family is aware of, so its more likely to just read as like....Bruce making more of an effort where its already understandable to everyone else that an effort is merited. 

And Bruce HAS admittedly at different times been written as very clearly making an effort and being a good father to his kids, like, the capacity has always been there of course. But there were ‘good times’ with Bruce and Jason, with Bruce and Dick, with Bruce and Tim, etc, etc. So when the effort being seen comes paired with an understandable or apparent GAP the others are aware of.....the effort is easily seen as nothing more than BRIDGING the already existant gap, rather than....advancing that one particular child AHEAD of the others.

So much of the conflict between Bruce and Dick during Jason’s time as Robin stemmed from the fact that.....there was a huge, existing gap between Bruce and Dick even BEFORE Bruce took Jason in....and there was no effort made by Bruce during that time to bridge that gap. And then Bruce took Jason in, adopted him, made him Robin....STILL while making no attempt to reach out to Dick, make amends, bridge the gap he was steadily INCREASING between both boys and their respective relationships with him....so y’know, its kinda hard NOT to see or at least understandably imagine favoritism from Dick’s POV there....

BUT, its also easy to imagine why from the other kids’ perspectives, Dick might be Bruce’s favorite or the one he’s closest with, and its not because he’s perfect or the original or anything like that, but rather just....time.

Quite simply, Dick is the one kid Bruce spent the most time with, before any of the others joined the family. He spent a good eight years growing up in the manor, Bruce’s only family other than Alfred. Its quite easy and understandable to imagine from the perspective of the ones who came later, this would translate into more closeness, more ease and familiarity, even more respect, more love......because that thing that they each have with Bruce to some degree, that makes them family, the time spent with him, the comfort or praise they’ve received from him, purely in an empirical sense, in terms of rough numbers if nothing else, Dick has had more of it. Bruce has given more of it. 

Of course they’re resentful or assume they can’t measure up, in light of that. How can the mere two or three years some of them have had as Bruce’s family compete with the eight Dick had and that’s even just before any of the others came along at all.

So they look at Bruce making an effort with Dick, the way he doesn’t always do with them, they see Bruce making a point to acknowledge Dick or praise him or express he’s putting his faith in him - all the things they’re all eager to hear - and the easiest and most obvious conclusion to draw when asking themselves “why is he like that with Dick, but not with me, or at least never as much”....is that its because of that essential element Dick and Bruce’s relationship has that none of the others do.....time.

The problem is, of course.....they don’t have the whole perspective, and they’re drawing conclusions without paying proper consideration to all the possible alternatives.

Because yes, Bruce and Dick’s relationship has had more time to encompass so many of the good moments and the positives between them......but the reverse is equally true. Its had that much more time to encompass the bad moments and the negatives in their relationship as well. And this is part of the narrative trap created when not focusing on or even just acknowledging the downs of Dick and Bruce’s relationship, specifically where the burden of responsibility is on Bruce.....because it sets up a quandary - “Bruce often behaves differently with Dick than he does with his other children” - but only allows certain interpretations to be read in as possible explanations for this. 

So the second you lock in the take that Bruce’s relationship with Dick has never really HAD any low moments because Dick wasn’t fired, they weren’t estranged for years (though cough cough, what’s your explanation for Bruce’s absence from major defining stories of Dick’s at the time where he really could have used some comfort or support from Bruce, like the Church of Blood or Titans Hunt BUT I DIGRESS), and NTT #55 certainly didn’t happen, then its like.....you’ve reduced the intricacies of their dynamic and past history down to only its fundamental positives, and as such are only really showcasing Bruce being more positive than not with Dick while layering in the impression that this is the way its always been.....

And not only are you giving cause to the other children looking at this dynamic and seeing only one possible explanation - whether or not its just because they’ve spent more time together, Dick is Bruce’s favorite and always will be - you’re also creating the inevitability that Dick pretty much MUST be written as equally positive towards Bruce at all times - aka appearing as the loyal footsoldier his siblings often accuse him of being, particularly when they’re having their own conflicts with Bruce and Dick is defending him - OR if you write Dick as behaving negatively towards Bruce or making complaints of his own against Bruce....who in the eyes of all the others, clearly already favors Dick more than them as is.....it makes Dick look like a spoiled, ungrateful asshole who can’t even appreciate the fact that Bruce already loves and respects him more than he does any of them, like nothing will ever be good enough for him.

Basically, as is a fairly common theme for me, lol, my point is that I think a lot of the more negative and two-dimensional portrayals of Dick in fandom come not even from writers innately or initially seeing HIM that way....but rather are just a symptom of the corners many often write themselves into simply by REFUSING to write other characters in certain negative ways....without paying consideration to the ripple effects this would have on the dynamic between both characters overall. And then more readers and fans internalize these negative and two-dimensional portrayals of Dick and add them or have them feed into their own predispositions towards any of the other characters aside from him, and it kinda creates and perpetuates this whole self-sustaining cycle, where Dick so often becomes the ‘bad guy’ in family conflicts purely because writers won’t LET anyone ELSE ever be even just more responsible for a conflict with him.

But the second you put back even just ONE of the elements often cut out from Bruce and Dick’s relationship in support of Bruce, whether its firing Dick, not trying to make amends with him the whole time Jason lived with Bruce, the scene between them after Jason’s death......

Suddenly, you’ve got another explanation for why Bruce might be making MORE of an effort with Dick at times, to show he appreciates him, loves him, is proud of him.....because Bruce fucked up, and he doesn’t know how to fix it. And this is his awkward way of trying to show and not tell, because he doesn’t think the telling is ever going to be good enough, and its not even that Dick’s too petty or spiteful to ever accept Bruce’s apology, its that because its never taken the form of an ACTUAL apology, an ACTUAL acknowledgment of wrongdoing and an attempt to make amends.....its more likely Dick not seeing it for what it is on Bruce’s part is just Dick not wanting to set himself up for more disappointment, figuring he might be reading more into it than is actually there just because he WANTS to believe its an apology of some sort, he WANTS to forgive Bruce and get back at least some of what they lost over the years.

And meanwhile, from all the other kids’ perspectives, they see Bruce clearly making SOME kind of an effort with Dick that he doesn’t always make with them, and that when he does, usually its paired with something in their mind that makes it read as “oh that’s why he’s behaving this way” rather than “oh, clearly, this is proof I am The Favored One,”...BUT having access to only parts of the picture and no clue about a lot of the rest, working off of limited evidence, there’s no real way for them TO draw the correct conclusion....that this is Bruce trying to make RIGHT something that went WRONG.....not Bruce just lavishing Dick with praise and respect and recognition any of them would kill for and he seems to get for no reason....other than the obvious one....Dick’s the first, the original, the one who has a decade headstart on all of us in Bruce’s eyes and who we thus will never be able to catch up to so why try, hey, we should totally just, stab Caesar.

[queenbirbs]

the mountain between us | Ethan x MC

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x MC (Sloane McTavish)

Rating: E

Warnings: language, adult content, N*FW, description of a panic attack

Word count: 8.1k

Summary: In which the return to Edenbrook doesn’t go as planned, or: Ethan and Sloane get the hell out of Dodge Boston. 

Notes: This story continues off my previous fic, waiting for rain , although this can be read as a stand-alone. It is a sort of AU of chapter 12, in which Danny has a separate funeral of his own (I mean, I get why PB wrote it to save time/redundancies, but I don’t see them somehow managing to secure burial plots right next to each other? Anyway, the wonders of fiction aside…). 

------

She makes it to the diagnostic office with two seconds to spare. 

The muffled thump of the door meeting the casing is like a gunshot, echoing in the quiet room. She stumbles past the table and over to the couch, trying to get out of direct line of sight. The leather creaks under her weight as she collapses onto the cushion. That constant undercurrent of dread builds into a wave, washing over her. Her hands start to shake and soon, the rest of her body follows suit. The faux-wood grain of the coffee table before her is the only thing in focus; the rest of the world is warped, as if she’s viewing it through binoculars. Her heart feels as if someone has a fist around it and is trying to pull it free through her throat. 

“Stop… fucking… crying,” she hisses, wiping furiously at her cheeks. But her lacrimal glands pay no mind to her threats, nor does the rest of her when she begs it to stop panicking. 

All this, she bemoans, over plastic wrap -- just a patient’s sandwich that he asked for her help unwrapping. But the moment she touched it and felt it crinkle under her hands, she was back in that tented room, shrouded by the thick plastic draped over the walls, sealed in and suffocated by the opaque sheeting, waiting and waiting and waiting to die.

She doesn’t remember what terrible joke she made about not being a fan of tuna, nor does she remember the trip from the oncology ward to here, several floors down. None of her friends must have seen her, because none of them have followed her in here, at the ready with their hugs and assurances, suffocating in their own loving way.

“You’re the worst… person on earth,” she whispers, clenching her jaw in an effort to stave off another round of tears.

“Sloane?” 

She glances up to see Ethan stepping into the room, his mouth crumpled into that familiar frown of worry -- the one he’s worn ever since she returned. He says her name like it’s a question, as if she has the option to shake her head no and become someone else. It’s a tempting idea. Her reply is at the ready, as natural as breathing now. Not that she’s doing a very good job of doing the latter.

“I’m fine.” 

“I see that.” Though the words should be harsh, his tone is anything but -- weighed down by all the concern in the world, it seems. His gaze roves over her, observing and diagnosing her like the specimen she is, walking through Edenbrook’s halls once more. “You’re having a panic attack,” he says, more to himself than to her.

“Correction: my second. First was in the supply closet. Decided I wanted a change of scenery.” 

Although it’s a struggle to get the words out, her audience doesn’t seem to appreciate the joke.

“Do you want me to sit with you?” he asks.

“Please.” The plea is whispered into her clasped hands. She tightens her grip, trying in vain to stop the tremors working through her. 

Ethan crosses the room and takes a seat next to her, giving her the illusion of space by twisting at the waist to look at her. In blocking her view of the hallway, he also blocks them from seeing her. His hand comes to rest on the space between them, a show of support that doesn’t make her feel crowded or trapped. She could kiss him right now, if it weren’t for the whole world-feeling-like-it’s-falling-out-from-underneath-her sensation. Her lungs ache with each choppy, shallow breath she drags in. 

“I’m here. You’re safe with me.” 

Untangling her laced hands, she reaches down and rests her hand atop his. With a gentle motion, his fingers shift to nestle alongside hers, grounding her with the pleasant warmth of his touch. With her eyes closed, she focuses on the smooth breaths he takes, mimicking them as best she can. Seconds turn to minutes, marked only by his murmured phrases of assurance and his pulse, sure and steady under her palm. Gradually, her breath begins to ebb and flow, rolling in and out of her lungs in languid sweeps. 

She opens her eyes. The office fades into focus. The track lighting is still too bright, so she turns to Ethan. The sympathy welling in his eyes almost makes her want to shut hers again. His gaze tracks over her in a fitful dance; he’s mapping out each tear that stains her cheeks and neck.  

“I’m okay,” she tries this time. 

His eyebrows scrunch down as he studies her. 

“No, you’re not.”

“Okay, fine, I’m not.” Sloane leans forward and rubs at her cheeks. If she puts her hair down, she could maybe make it to the bathroom and wash away the evidence before a staff member notices. “Have you thought any more about Aurora’s proposal?”

“The one you two dropped on me at the private memorial we had on Tuesday morning? No, I can’t say that I have.” Shaking his head, he pinches at the bridge of his nose and sighs. “God, Sloane, I don’t want to talk about the hospital. I don’t give a damn about it right now. I only care about you.” 

The cushion creaks as she shifts, uncertain how to drive the conversation away from her. She goes with the best tactic: avoidance. 

“Well, thanks, then. But I should go. I’ve wasted enough time as it is. I’ve got to pick up some labs and check up on Mr. Evans and see what Baz wanted from--” 

Ethan puts his hand on her shoulder and squeezes, once, then again. 

“Stop. Stop worrying about everybody else for a second.”

She snorts out a humorless laugh at that. “I’m serious,” he continues, pressing on her shoulder and urging her to look at him. “I know that you practically begged Naveen to let you come back to work, even after I told you no, but I think you need to give yourself more time. I think you pushed yourself too hard.”

“I was stuck here for three days, and then stuck at home for another four. I’m done waiting around. I can only take so much medical leave. And I can’t just… sit at home cowering in fear.”

“So you thought doing it at work would be better?” he asks candidly.

“Fuck you.” 

Sloane jumps to her feet and rounds the table, leaving him to throw his pity party for her all by himself -- then freezes. Outside the glass walls, the hallway is teeming with people. Nurses and orderlies and patients mill about, pushing gurneys and cleaning carts and wheelchairs. Several nurses at the station spot her and then, like marionettes on shared strings, turn towards each other at once, their chins tipped low as they converse. She feels like a zoo animal, on display for the hospital to ogle at. 

“Go home, Sloane,” comes Ethan’s voice from behind her. His footsteps drag across the rug as he approaches. “For another day or two, at least. Please.”

She turns from the hallway and brings her arms around her chest to hug herself tight. 

“I… it’s no walk in the park there, either. Being there alone is frightening enough, but when everybody’s home, they walk on eggshells around me. Even Jackie, who I can always count on to be a certified bitch, has been coddling me. It’s... I hate being home. It’s like they’re too afraid to say something that might -- I don’t know, offend me? -- so they don’t say anything at all. It’s like living with a ghost, except I’m Bruce Willis in this scenario.” She stops short, figuring she’ll have to explain that one, but he holds up his palm to keep the synopsis at bay. 

“I understand your reference. You know, I have seen a film or two.” 

“Coulda fooled me.” 

She tries for the usual smile that wants to form when making fun of his limited pop culture knowledge. Her bravado falls away, though, as he comes to stand close to her. His arms cross over his chest, as if attempting to keep his hands to himself in front of their audience. “You know what it was like for me,” she continues, “being in that room, doing nothing--”

He cuts her off, his blue eyes suddenly ablaze.

“That isn’t what I saw. You stood by Rafael’s side. You helped him when you yourself couldn’t walk without falling over. You lost every semblance of control during the worst moment of your life, and you still were able to relay the changes in your symptoms. You saved Rafael’s life--”

“That was all Tobias and the team’s--”

“You know as well as I do that patient care is more than an antidote in a syringe. You think that if we’d stuck him in a room alone, away from you, or inside one of those glass boxes that he would still be alive? Think again, Rookie.” 

The passion and heat in his voice, along with the return of her nickname, sends a tingle up the length of her spine. “I watched you struggle to be by his side. I watched you have all your faculties ripped away. Which is why I’m so worried that you’re pushing yourself too hard.”

“Ethan--” she starts, but he barrels right over the deflection attempt.

“If you had a patient who was experiencing the same symptoms at work, would you tell them to get over it? Would you tell them to push past their fears and their anxieties, in order to stay on the clock?” 

Her lips purse at his point, knowing that he’s right. But she doesn’t want to let him win this one.

“Doctors do a lot of things they tell their patients not to. We’re the biggest hypocrites of them all.”

“No, I think that honor falls on politicians,” he quips.  

The little laugh feels foreign in her mouth. She can’t help but notice the way his eyes light up in response to the noise. 

“I have an idea.” She raises a brow in interest, spurring him on. “Let me take you somewhere. Anywhere you’d like. We can leave today, spend a long weekend away. We’ll swing by your place, pack you a bag, and go.”

“And you think we can just… leave? Slack off on our duties like that? What about our patients?”

The corner of his mouth hitches up in a smirk. 

“You’re talking to the person who does the scheduling. And I happen to know your boss wouldn’t mind. My boss has been not-so-subtly sending me couples vacation rentals after seeing our appearance on national television.” 

Taking a deep breath, Sloane considers the offer as he watches her, not an ounce of hesitation on his face. That tingling sensation returns, banking higher and higher within her. 

“Okay,” she agrees, hating how her heart beats a little faster at the brilliant smile on his face. “I like the way you think. Let’s go.”

------

Within two hours, they load up Ethan’s car and make their way out of Boston, Jenner wiggling happily in the backseat. 

The city center gives way to the urban sprawl. That soon becomes overtaken by suburbia and its penchant for shopping outlets and tract housing. Sloane can’t help the sigh of relief that comes when they reach Medford and the city skyline drops away in the rearview. They leave the coastal lowlands of Massachusetts behind, heading north along the interstate and up into New Hampshire. Though she packed a bag with what little information he gave her, she’s curious still when they stop at a food truck for lunch. 

“You realize you could hit the navigation screen on the GPS, right?” Ethan points out. “It’ll tell you exactly where we’re going.” 

“That’s cheating. I thought you taught me to be a better doctor than that.”

“No, I taught you how to be a smarter doctor. Besides, you’re the one knowledgeable about technology.” When she doesn’t immediately outright ask, he settles back in his chair and pets Jenner when she approaches for attention. “All right, then. Diagnose it.”

Sloane’s fork pauses on its way to her mouth. She shoots him an incredulous look, but when he simply cocks an eyebrow, she takes the bait. 

“We’re headed north. At first, I thought Maine, especially with what you suggested I bring, but we’ve gone too far west now. It wouldn’t make any sense to make a big right turn and head east. And we’re not going as far as Canada, because you didn’t tell me to bring my passport -- which I do have, by the way, though I’ve only gotten to use it one time.”

“I know,” he tells her. “There’s several photos of your semester abroad on your Pictagram page.” 

“Those photos are from my senior year of undergrad. That means you scrolled for quite a while, Dr. Ramsey.” It’s impossible to miss the blush burning along his cheeks and up his ears. Sloane tips her head to the side, eyes wide, her words teasing: “Were you that interested in Stockholm?”

“It’s a lovely city.” 

That thick, bottom lip of his ticks up in a grin. The little cafe suddenly feels too warm for her, but she resists the urge to tug at her sweater.

“Right. So, not Canada. I have to admit, I’m not well-versed in what New Hampshire or Vermont have to offer, other than maple syrup and hiking. Ooh, and Ben and Jerry’s.” Twirling her straw wrapper around her finger, she looks him over for another minute before giving up with a shrug. “Nope, I’ve got nothin’.”

“Some dedicated physician you are.” 

His grin widens as the balled-up wrapper hits his chest. 

------

They leave the interstate behind after entering Vermont.

Instead, the state highway takes them through the proper countryside. When the satellite radio fails to connect, Sloane steals the aux cord and plugs in her phone. Ethan’s protests quiet down soon enough when, instead of the pop drivel he expects, Nat King Cole croons out of the speakers. 

The Taconic mountains roll along beside them, as if shielding them from the outside world; Sloane appreciates the gesture. Clusters of horses and cattle float along in their fenced-in pastures, the grass rippling under a light wind blowing off the mountains. Towns seem to sneak up on them as the road curves through the valley. Tiny stores and tiny gas stations and tiny churches, Johnson’s Hardware and Morgan’s Jewelry and Lee’s Drugstore line up along the roadside. Hanging signs advertise berry farms and local maple syrup, their arrows pointing up into the hills. Then the highway curves again, and the towns disappear from the rearview. 

Sloane watches it all from her reclined position against the center console, her hand in Ethan’s as he drives. Jenner’s wet nose bumps against her cheek when the Boxer mix demands affection. Though they swore off it back in Massachusetts, they talk about work, which leads them to medical articles, which leads them to the inaccuracies in medical dramas. Serenading about her need for a Sunday kind of love, Etta James joins them as they cross into New York. 

It doesn’t take too long before the feminine voice of the GPS announces that they’ve arrived. Sloane does a double-take at the welcome sign as they pass it. 

“Wait -- isn’t this where that horror movie was set?” she asks. 

“The film took place in Maine, actually.”

“How are you suddenly an expert on horror movies from the late nineties? And how did I not know that? Did I finally find your film niche?” 

“My friend forced me to attend his Halloween party in high school,” he admits with a sigh. 

They pass by the shops and bars and restaurants that line Main Street, all the brick facades and rugged decor blocking the view. Locals and fellow tourists clog the sidewalks, meandering in and out of the storefronts as they enjoy the afternoon sunshine. Eventually, the buildings fall away, and the world is filled with nothing but a cloudless sky and clear water that stretches wide beyond the guardrail. Just over a stretch of land, Lake Placid burns a deep blue in the sunlight.

Sloane keeps her eyes on the sights, but shifts her attention back to the man in the driver’s seat.

“Okay, now I have to know: what was your costume?” 

“A doctor,” he says, as if it were the most obvious answer in the world. 

She chuckles at the image of a teenage Ethan in his white coat and his patterned tie, swimming in his tailored shirts and trousers, lecturing his friends on the risks of alcohol poisoning.  

“Oh my god, of course you did. Did you at least dump fake blood on yourself or something?”

“No.” His brow crinkles as he glances over at her, confused. “Why would I have done that?”

“To look scary.”

A smirk appears on his face at the idea. “Right. And what did you dress up as when you were sixteen?”

“I’m pretty sure I went as Daphne. My girlfriend Ruby went as Velma.”

“What, you didn’t douse yourself with fake blood?”

“Honestly, we should have. That would’ve looked badass.”  

Ethan shakes his head at her, but she can see that smirk of his hasn’t disappeared. Turning off the main drag, he takes them down a one-lane road that winds back into the wilderness. After passing the town lodge, the occasional driveway and accompanying mailbox are the only signs of human life among the towering pines.

The house is tucked back off the road, a pretty little cottage painted robin’s egg blue. Two rocking chairs frame either side of the front door. Once Sloane releases her, Jenner darts out and takes full advantage of the lush front lawn, sniffing along the shrubs and tree line. Leaving Jenner to her exploring, Ethan hauls in their bags with Sloane following behind. The rustic decor leans too far towards kitschy for both of them, but she finds the log bed frame and large, dramatic painting of a howling wolf charming. The real draw, though, is the wide back deck, where the sea of trees parts to offer a stunning view of the lake. 

It’s the perfect place, she decides later while sipping from her second glass of scotch, to watch the sunset. From his position, Ethan seems to agree. His arms are wrapped around her waist as they spread out across the porch swing. Bundled up in scarves and blankets to ward off the evening chill, they watch the sky turn from blue to orange to black. The stars, when they fade into view, are thrown into sharp relief against the night. It’s almost dizzying to be able to see so many. 

It reminds her of back home, of lying on Ruby’s hood in her grandparents’ driveway under the pretense of looking for falling stars, but actually making out under the cover of darkness. 

Curled up atop their feet, Jenner sighs in her sleep; Sloane mimics the noise, stretching out against Ethan. Her eyes flutter closed at the sensation of his lips against her temple.  

“Do you remember the Stevensons’ house down in North Quincy?” he asks, continuing before she can respond, because he knows that she doesn’t forget a patient. “This place reminds me of that. But the desire for peace and solitude makes a lot more sense to me, now.”

She shifts in his arms to rest her cheek against his shoulder. 

“It reminds me of where I grew up, in this one-horse town in Virginia.” It’s a detour of the conversation he wants to have, but she can’t help but avoid talking about That for just a little while longer. “I mean, really, a real hole-in-the-wall kind of place. My grandparents lived there for sixty years, though, so that was home. When I was nine, my mom dropped me and my brother off at their house and never came back. So, it became our home, too. They took us in and let us have the run of the land -- which was easy to do, since we were surrounded on all sides by mountains. I was happy there -- happier than I’d been with my mom. But I spent a lot of time daydreaming about living in the big city, going to all the college parties that I saw on television, and travelling the world.” 

His grip tightens around her. “And then you didn’t,” he murmurs. 

“No, I didn’t,” is all she says, knowing he’s replaying her deathbed confession in his head, just as she is. “Though I blame that more on becoming infatuated with this diagnostician who wrote all these amazing books, and who inspired me to go to medical school and one day become one of the country’s greatest doctors.”

“What do you mean?” At her hum of confusion, he clarifies. “You already are, Sloane.” 

Tears spring to her eyes at his declaration, but she hides them by burrowing closer into his warmth. 

“But yeah, despite growing up in the middle of nowhere, it’s nice to be there again. I mean, you can’t get views like this back in Boston.” She waves a hand towards the thick spread of stars above them.  

“Your file didn’t list your grandparents as contacts.”

The invitation to talk about her past lies in the proverbial space between them; she takes it.  

“They passed within a few months of each other when I was seventeen. They left what little they had to me and my brother, and I used that to get to college.” 

She tells him about the farmhouse and how it would become so big and lonely; and the vintage, rose-patterned sofas that would collect dust; and the little kitchen at the back that would never smell of fresh coffee and banana bread again. 

She doesn’t tell him about how it felt like being abandoned all over again. 

Time has healed the wound’s edges, but it flares to life on occasion. Over the years, she’s learned to sit with the grief, to take long moments to study it and inspect it and move through it. It’s how she knows, despite the horrific tragedy at Edenbrook, that she’ll be okay. Maybe not right now, or next week, or next month, but someday. 

From inside, muffled through the French doors, comes Gladys Knight singing about life’s ups and downs. Sloane closes her eyes, focusing on the song and on the steady brush of Ethan’s thumb as he strokes her arm. Across the dark expanse of the woods, a whippoorwill calls out, its warble echoing off the water. 

At some point, she stirs to the sensation of movement, of warm lines of pressure along her back and behind her knees. Ethan is talking to Jenner in that low, gravelly voice of his, as if trying not to wake her. Before she can tease him for it, the blanket of sleep wraps around her once more. 

------

After a lengthy argument on staying in bed versus exploring the town, Ethan takes the loss with a surprising amount of grace. 

Oh, he grumbles a bit as he tugs on his sweater and makes several comments on how proper vacation etiquette does not include rising before nine a.m. But once she gets him downtown to the farmer’s market and gives him the task of finding the ugliest souvenir for her to give to her roommates, he perks right up. 

Under a stretch of white tents, card tables are laden with wares and plants and produce. Buckets of brightly-colored croton and chrysanthemums flare against the white tablecloths. Necklaces, fishing lures, and welded sculptures glint, swing, and jingle, catching the attention of passers-by. Wines and cheeses and honey are bottled and wrapped and canned, their labels touting how local, how fresh, how organic they are. From somewhere along the thoroughfare comes the smell of hot apple cider as it drifts between the stalls. 

Sloane is marveling at a collection of wind chimes that she has no use for whatsoever when she feels a hand settle on her lower back.  

“I found it.” There’s a strange sense of pride in his voice as he lifts a nondescript, brown paper bag up for emphasis. Jenner knocks her body into his legs, as if reminding him of her role in the game. “Alright, well, technically Jenner did.” 

“What is it?”

“As per your request, the most hideous object known to mankind.”

“I don’t think I was that--”

“Fine,” he concedes, “known to this region -- or state, at the very least.” 

Out from the Lake Placid News’s crumpled pages comes a tankard of a coffee mug with Don’t confuse your GOOGLE search with my Medical Degree! printed along the side. Then, stamped underneath as if an afterthought: Adirondack Mountains, NY. Sloane stares at it with a sort of horrified amazement. 

“It’s…” she trails off, unable to form words. 

“I know,” Ethan agrees, turning the mug around to read over it again. Looped around his wrist is another smaller bag.

“What else did you get?” 

“That one’s a surprise.”

Jostling the tote bag on her shoulder, she gestures to the cork sticking out. “I bought us some wine to go with dinner. C’mon, show me what you bought.” It may sound like she’s whining, but she’s not. 

“Are you unaware of how surprises work?” he questions, raising a brow at her insistence. 

“Okay, fine.” She lets the topic slide, grinning and rolling her eyes at his desire for secrecy.

Reaching towards him, he answers in kind by sliding his arm through hers. They spend the rest of the morning strolling through the stalls together. He buys a nice bottle of bourbon for Naveen; she buys a little box of self-care items for Sienna. When Sloane comments to the shop owner on the pretty photo printed around the candle, he mentions that it’s his own photograph of a nearby trail. 

“It’s a short hike, no more than three miles roundtrip,” Terry tells them as he wraps up her gift. “You pass Lake Placid Lodge and keep going about four, four ‘n a half miles, and the trail is at the end of the road. You can’t miss it.” 

------

Terry was right. 

It’s impossible to miss the trail, given that four-hundred feet past their cottage, the road dead ends in a gravel semi-circle. Two boulders and a single post mark the trailhead: Kiver Mountain, 1.4 miles. After dropping off their purchases and changing into more terrain-friendly shoes, they set off on foot from the cottage.  

Despite autumn’s grip on the foliage above, the last vestiges of late summer remain on the forest floor. Thick, leafy undergrowth makes the trees appear as if swimming in a downy sea of green. The hike’s elevation gain is slow and steady, which Sloane is grateful for, considering that eighty percent of her exercise comes in the form of running up and down hospital hallways. The other twenty percent is spent with ‘the boys’ in their dungeon gym that hasn’t seen the wet side of a paint roller since the Clinton administration. The views there, however, certainly make up for the lack of decor.  

It’s the same view she’s enjoying now, what with Ethan in front of her. There is something to be said about wearing the proper apparel for such an activity, she’s finding.

“Sloane?” 

Her gaze shoots up just as Ethan twists to look over his shoulder. “Were you listening?”

“No, sorry, I was--” she fumbles for something to say. The altitude must be getting to her, she reasons, because the next words out of her mouth were about to be ‘staring at your ass.’ “--um, I thought I saw a… snake.”

“They’re usually more afraid of you than you are of them.”

“You’ve never experienced me with a snake before.” 

“I’ll make sure to warn them of your presence if I see one, then.”   

“All snakes in the surrounding area just gave a collective sigh of relief.”

Her poor attempt at humor earns her an exasperated sigh, though she does catch the chuckle that follows. Ethan keeps talking, but she doesn’t really hear him. Mostly due to the fact that Jenner and he keep going, while her attention is caught by a small, branching path through the trees.

It’s been a long time since she spent a weekend away from the city. When her friends spent fall break camping or borrowing a friend of a friend’s uncle’s boat to cruise around on the lake, she stayed holed up at her desk, studying and outlining. Her first copy of Diagnostic Principles looks like she closed it around a rainbow, what with all of the colorful sticky notes peeking out from the pages. That same copy moved with her through every dorm at Duke, all the way across the Atlantic for her semester at Karolinska, and then at every off-campus apartment at Johns Hopkins. 

After she left for college, the closest she came to the wilderness were the views on her Pictagram feed, or the nature documentaries Aurora likes to watch. Here, as Sloane pushes past bristly limbs, the scenery stretches out before her, live and in full-color. Drenched in sunlight, the valley stretches wide to whatever direction she’s facing. A trio of birds swoop down from above her, heading towards the staggering shelves of trees that line the distant hills. At the furthest edge, the blue shadows of the mountains melt into a spatter of gray clouds. It’s all very picturesque, so much so that when she hears a noise on the path behind her, she expects to turn and see a frolicking deer. 

“Did you not hear me calling your name? What are you doing?” Ethan demands, his jaw firmly set as he looks her over. Trotting along beside him, Jenner sniffs at the ground, unaware of the impending argument. Sloane hops down from the outcropping she climbed for a better view.

“Sorry, I was--”

“You shouldn’t go off on your own like that.” The heat of frustration burns along his reprimand, surprising her with its intensity for such a small offense. “This isn’t a walk around the block back home. I was-- you can’t disappear on me like that.” 

Sloane tries to let his tone roll off, but she also isn’t going to roll over for him. She sucks in a breath and mentally counts to five. 

“Wow, okay. You’ve never fought me before about something so absurd. What’s this really about?”

In an instant, the fire is gone from his eyes. Ethan wipes a hand across his face and over his jaw; he gives his head a little shake, as if rousing himself from the spell of anger. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, the blue of his eyes burning cool now. “I hoped that if we got away from the hospital that…” his words trail away under the birdsongs echoing around them. 

Sloane takes Jenner’s leash and motions for Ethan to keep moving up the trail. She gives him an encouraging look when he glances over, embarrassment tinging his cheeks. The gentle slope becomes steep stone steps that they trudge up, climbing higher and higher, wary of the loose ones that wiggle under their feet. 

“I thought that I would get better at this,” he finally says.

“This?” she prods.

“At coming to terms with what happened. And not just with you, although that’s a large part of it, obviously. But when Naveen was sick, when he was damn near death, I could still work. I could still be Doctor Ramsey. But when you…” he swallows and shakes his head again. At his sides, his hands clench into fists. “I was terrified, and I think some parts of me still are. But when I was in that lab with Travis, and I saw him lying on that bed near death, I felt vindicated in some horrible way. I was happy that he was in pain, for what he did to you.” 

“Ethan--”

“He refused to give me any information,” he bowls over her attempt at reassurances, his voice strained. “Then he begged me to ease his suffering. It was his dying request and I walked away. As someone whose friends he had killed and injured, I can compartmentalize that. But as a physician, how can I continue treating patients? How can I work with them when I not only failed, but refused to ease another patient’s suffering?”

They reach the top and step out onto the cliff.

Over the edge, purple-tipped shrubs choke the rock shelves that stagger down the cliff until they reach the forest floor below. The valley dips low before them, cradled by a long line of mountains in the distance. They roll along in a lazy sort of wave, deepening to a hazy blue the farther they stretch. True to its name, the water of Lake Placid is calm and still, reflecting the foliage’s vibrant array of colors, fuschias and reds and oranges peppering the mountains that flank the lake. Pale crags of rock decorate some of their peaks, so bleached from the sun that they almost look like snow.

Keeping a firm grip on Jenner’s leash, she breaks the silence they’ve fallen into. 

“Unfortunately, you suffer from something incurable.” At his answering noise of interest, she wraps an arm around his waist and hugs him close. “You’re human.”

His hand sweeps across her back, holding her tight. 

“I’m sorry.” 

She shoves down her need to use humor as an emotional crutch by mentioning this must be a record number of apologies for him. Instead, she lets her head rest on his shoulder. 

“What for?” 

“For burdening you with my problems, which pale in comparison to what you went through. It’s not fair to--”

“Hey,” she cuts him off, hugging him tighter for a beat. “You can’t work through the trauma if you discount it like that.”

“You sound just like Naveen.”

“Smart minds think alike.” 

Her heart squeezes at his familiar, half-formed huff of laughter. They spend a good length of time at the top, enjoying the peaceful view and watching clouds roll in from the west. Eventually, her stomach growls and he teases her about doing strenuous activity on an empty stomach. Jenner leads the way as they start back down the trail. 

The two boulders and trailhead sign come into sight just as the rain arrives. 

Fat raindrops plod the canopy above, drumming through the leaves and onto them. Ethan lets out an undignified yelp when cold rain lands on him, prompting a full-throated laugh from Sloane. They race down the path, sprinting between the boulders and down the road. Jenner barks with excitement when she tugs free of Sloane’s grip and barrels ahead of them.  

They reach the cottage, Jenner at his heels when Ethan rushes inside for towels. He makes it to the hall closet before realizing that Sloane isn’t following. Retracing his steps, he returns to the little porch and finds her standing out on the front path. Her arms are stretched out beside her as the rain soaks her clothes and hair. He sets the towels down on the rocking chair and approaches her, raising his voice to be heard above the downpour. 

“What are you doing?” 

“It’s silly,” she answers with a shrug. Contentment and grief coat the words; it’s an effort to push them free of her throat. This close, he can see the rivulets of water running along her trembling lips. “But I was waiting for this. It’s been sunny every day since… and all I wanted was for it to rain.” 

It’s not difficult to recall her angry words as they drove away from Danny’s funeral. 

“It’s not silly.” Reaching for her, he takes her hand and guides her under the porch and out of the storm. “Silly would be how I worry about you constantly now -- that if I leave you alone, or you go off somewhere without me knowing, that it could happen again. I’m terrified, Sloane, of losing you again. Every patient room you step into could lead to another disaster, and it might be another one that I can’t fix.”

He keeps busy while he talks, picking up a towel and wrapping it around her shoulders. With another he dries her hair; his fingers clench and release the wavy strands like he saw her do a lifetime ago in their shared hotel room.  

“It’s why I’ve been keeping tabs on you this week,” he says with no small amount of embarrassment. “Why I’ve been following you around the hospital. It’s how I knew to go to the office yesterday. And I know that’s awful and overbearing of me, and I understand on every sensible level that you’re safe. But there’s that one percent of something that keeps me at it.”

Sloane reaches up for the towel in his hands and tugs it away, letting it drop to the ground. He cups the back of her head and settles her against his chest, right against his heart where she belongs. 

“I’ve spent enough years being a cynic and a pessimist, always waiting for the other shoe to drop.” Ethan clears his throat, swallows, and steadies on. “But when I held your hand that night, I didn’t think about what the next hour would bring, because I wasn’t sure if that next hour would include you. And to have to stand there and watch you -- you, who’s always brave in the face of death and danger -- accept your fate in those last hours, that scared me more than anything.” 

“I knew it would hurt more if I begged you all to save me.” She feels the shaky rise of his chest, the tension of the muscles as he goes rigid at her words. “But I’m glad I wasn’t alone.” Her cheeks are wet with tears -- whether his or hers, she isn’t sure. “I -- my grandma, we didn’t make it to the hospital in time before she passed, and she died alone, and I know that hurt my grandpa more than anything. So I’m glad you were with me.” 

When he speaks, the passion and heartache in his tone unfurls something in her chest. 

“I don’t want to waste what time we have left. I’m tired of playing pretend. I’m tired of holding myself back. I don’t know what to do, other than tell you that I care about you, and that I want to be with you. And I know it’ll be messy, and I don’t have all the answers for how we go about it, but I know that I want you so goddamn much, Sloane, that I don’t care anymore.” 

Gripping his wet shirt, she pulls him down for a kiss. He answers in kind, his lips dragging against hers; his hands come up to frame her face, to keep her close as he drops another kiss, then two, then three against the corner of her mouth. The roar of the rain turns to a muffled drum as they fumble their way through the door and down the hall. 

The bedroom is lit only by the tall windows, reflecting what weak sunlight manages through the cloudy sky. A wall of fog floats between the trees, blocking out the rest of the world. Sloane leans down to the nightstand and flicks on the Tiffany lamp. Honeyed shafts of light fill the space, warming the room with their glow. 

Ethan peels their wet clothes away, stripping the both of them bare. His lips cruise every inch of her damp skin; she shivers at the cool, stagnant air of the bedroom, then again at the heat of his mouth as he kisses her shoulder, her breast, her belly. He guides her to the bed and she sinks onto the soft mattress, the sheets smelling of them: his soap and her shampoo, his aftershave and her lotion. It’s a scent she wants to wake up to every morning. 

“I never got to take my time with you,” he laments as he lays her down. Goosebumps follow in his wake as he runs the backs of his knuckles down her throat. He cups one breast and then the other, brushing the pad of his thumb over her pebbled nipples. Mesmerizing, he thinks, of the sweet noises she makes and the way her hips shift in time to his touch. 

“We’ve got time,” she assures him, her fingers trailing up and down his ribs. She’s unable to hide her grin when he squirms, obviously ticklish around his sixth and seventh rib. Lifting up onto his knees just enough to capture her hands, he presses her to the bed and takes a long moment to admire.

Frizzled from the rain, her strands spread across the pillow and dampen it -- no doubt the one that he’ll end up being forced to sleep on. The light dusting of freckles across her nose and shoulders are more pronounced in the yellow light. There’s the scar along her inner thigh from climbing over chicken wire to feed the hens, the burn mark on her inner arm from fumbling a hot pan of cinnamon rolls. He kisses the sharp cut of her cheekbone and the soft skin of her stomach, reveling in every facet of her. He takes a deep breath, and then another; they feel like his first real ones since approaching the window of that damned room. 

Her hands, along with the rest of her, squirm underneath his hold.   

“Ethan.” 

He doesn’t ask what she’s demanding; he takes one of his hands back and urges her thighs apart, pressing the heel of his palm against her and circling her wet heat. Her response is almost as erotic as the act itself; her knees jerk up, her muscles stuttering as her body rolls into his touch. Her freed hand snakes down her body to circle his wrist, her nail digging into his pulse point as she directs him how she likes. Increasing the pressure, Ethan can feel his cock growing harder as he watches her enjoyment. He’s too enthralled by her; his grip loosens on her other hand. In a flurry of movement, she’s got an arm around his neck and hauls him down to her for a messy kiss. He retaliates by changing gears; he slides two fingers inside her, delighted at the strangled moan that escapes her. 

“Is it good?” he asks, unable to stop the smarmy grin on his face. 

“Yes,” Sloane breathes out. She rolls her hips down when he curls his fingers and strokes her with all the precision in the world. “Yes, it’s good, it’s--” the words are lost to the crest of another wave as it pounds through her. She squeezes his wrist in a vice-like grip, keeping him where she needs him, and croaks out his name as she comes. 

He eases the glide of his fingers, but doesn’t stop until he’s got her climbing again.

“God, you’re still so tight.” He nuzzles the arm she has planted against his shoulder, nipping at the sweat-tinged skin. Her fingers dig into his flesh in time with his thrusts. “So responsive, all for me.” 

“Please,” she begs, “please, Ethan, I need--”

In a flash, he slides down her body, scoops up her hips, and drags the flat of his tongue across her. Sloane cries out, arching up into the wet heat of his mouth. His knees ache as he kneels before her and worships, coaxing hymns from her lips until she’s dragged under once more. Ethan eases her down from her high, running his fingers up and over her hip as her equilibrium returns. He rouses from his own arousal-induced haze at the sensation of fingers stroking through his hair.

“Come here.” 

He goes, without question, into the circle of her awaiting arms. She meets him with a messy kiss, her tongue tracing the corner of his mouth. His blood pulses hot underneath his skin, knowing she’s tasting herself on his lips. One of her curious hands skims along his stomach and down to wrap around his cock. 

“I want to make you feel good, too,” she murmurs, stroking him with a quick, little twist at the base, her thumb swiping across the swollen head. He barely holds it together, clenching his jaw to keep from thrusting into her hand like some horny teenager. “I… ever since that last time, you’re all I think about.”

“It’s the same for me,” he admits, too many emotions bubbling to the surface that he isn’t comfortable with declaring right now. Pressed against the long line of her body, he feels the vibration of her laughter when it comes, ringing through the room. 

“Well, yeah, that too. I was mostly talking about when I masturbate, though.” 

“Oh.” The word tumbles out before his brain has a chance to catch up and say something suave. It gets another giggle out of her, though -- and he finds that the taste of her laughter is even better than the sound of it. “Christ, Sloane,” he groans when he breaks their kiss, “tell me what you need.”

“You,” she says in a matter-of-fact way, as if he were stupid for expecting another answer.  

Ethan slides an arm across her back, cradling her close, needing to feel her against every inch of him. He pushes into her soaked heat, his breath escaping him in a moan when she digs her nails into his shoulders. Giving her a moment to adjust to the stretch, he nips at the soft skin of her breasts, pleased with the rosy marks that bloom from his attention. One of her hands drifts down to his ass and squeezes. 

“Move,” she begs.

At her command, he does; he wraps his free hand around her hip and uses the leverage to drag his cock in and out of her with short, heavy strokes. Her legs come up to encircle his waist, her body rocking up to meet his. The new angle is sweeter, deeper than before. Sloane gasps at his next thrust. Words fall free from his lips, nothing more than murmurs of praise. She writhes and keens underneath him; he has enough wherewithal to slide a hand down between them, knowing exactly what she needs. The rhythmic clenching of her sends him overboard with her, the both of them are dragged under the warm sea of pleasure. He pulls out and collapses next to her, nestling close when she slings an arm across him. The room spins around them as they wait for their breathing to turn to normal. 

As his heart rate slows, he finally hears it: the rain, beating steadily against the tin roof, a cocoon of white noise that shelters them from the outside. Before he can speak, he hears another familiar sound. Sloane rubs her nose against his shoulder and chuckles. 

“What was it that you said about strenuous activity on an empty stomach?” 

His laughter echoes through the room. After some poking and prodding, he manages to convince her to get out of bed and meet him in the kitchen. Ethan is reprimanding Jenner for dancing around his feet and gathering ingredients when she wanders in, dressed only in his button-down and a pair of wool socks. He manages to not whack his head against the upper cabinets, but only just barely. 

“Hey, you never showed me what you bought.” 

He follows her finger to the little brown bag, still sitting on the bar where he dropped it off earlier.

“Curiosity killed the cat,” he says. 

“And satisfaction brought it back,” she replies in a sing-songy tone.  

“Go ahead. Open it.” 

He watches her sift through the tissue paper and lift the object out. The snow globe catches in the kitchen’s recessed lights. Inside the glass is an overly-contrasted photo of Lake Placid, looking out towards Whiteface Mountain and the surrounding Adirondacks. “I figured you could add this to your collection.”

Sloane looks up in confusion. “My collection?”

“When I visited your apartment, I noticed the one you had from Stockholm on your shelf. Now, the next time you travel, you’ll know what tacky souvenir to buy yourself.” 

“Why would I do that, when I have you to do it for me?” she teases. 

Setting the snow globe down on the table and away from Jenner’s interested nose, she crosses the kitchen and slides her arms around his waist. The kiss she gives him is gentle and sweet, her lips curled into a smile as they press against his; he wishes for a thousand more. “But that’s a good idea. Too bad I didn’t get one in Miami.” 

He switches on the gas stove, glancing back at her with an impish grin. 

“We could always go back.”

“You know,” she hums, “I like the way you think.”

------ 

Author’s notes and what-have-yous: 

There’s probably a reference to something recognizable in here, but the only one I can think of is a line from an Alan Jackson song (don’t ask, I’m just having fun). 

[missorgana]

only waiting for this moment

pairing: loki/mobius

fandom: marvel cinematic universe

rating: general

word count: 4272

warning: swearing, implied character death

summary: Loki is not looking forward to sitting next to a stranger on the way to faer older brother's wedding. But said stranger proves to be good company, after all. (meet-cute, human au, single dad mobius)

(yet after loki’s ended i still obsess about lokius my god..... anyway! i’ve been working on this silly au for way too long so finally it’s out there! is it stupid yes. most likely. but it’s based on this cute fanart so let me live! also loki goes by fae pronouns because :’)))) enjoy! ❤️)

read on ao3

Why does Loki find faerself on a stuffy plane to Venice in the summer heat with several suits and a ring in faer luggage, you may ask?

Because of faer stupid older brother, of course.

Now, don’t mistake fae, fae’s happy for Thor getting married. Seriously!

Faer brother is one romantic bastard, and fae’s seen his looks and smiles around Bruce, fiancee and future husband in about three days, it’s like he would be lost without him. It’s quite endearing, in an overbearingly annoying way. Loki’ll let him know it’s annoying, plenty.

But of course, fae agreed to be the ringbearer, it’s the least fae could do, and fae loves that big fool just as much as he loves faer, even though fae’ll never willingly admit that to anyone other than faerself.

Fae just doesn’t understand  why  they had to make everyone travel out to Venice to celebrate the wedding, when they could’ve just saved the trip for their honeymoon, but nooo, the ceremony had to be at “the most romantic location in the world”, as Thor dubbed it.

Absolutely ridiculous, but what can you do?

Fae’ll just have to strap faerself in for the nine hour long plane ride,  dear god , hope the food isn’t completely horrendous and that their movie selection is decent.

The last part seems to be true, but alas, Loki’s bound to have trouble, considering fae’s found faerself in questionable situations many, many times before. Often Thor’s fault. Often fae’s own fault. Siblings you annoy the shit out of and siblings you would die for, simultaneously, of course.

However, Thor and Bruce arrived in Venice the previous day for arrangement, Jane and Brunnhilde are only leaving tonight because of Brunn’s schedule, and since Sif left earlier today, Loki’s alone. This fae doesn’t mind at all, appreciating peace and quiet, especially with an older brother as enthusiastic and energetic as Thor.

He’s not always annoying, he’s rather comforting, in that way. But times like this, fae could use a little break.

Until the passenger for the seat next to fae arrives, that is.

The person that comes into faers line of view is apologising profusely to a flight attendant for blocking their way, then nearly drops their bag in the face of a passenger in front of them, until they greet fae with decidedly  way too much vigour.

They look to be a typical tourist, grey hair and moustache and a goofy smile and a pale blue button-up with fucking flamingos on it. Lord, have mercy. But it really would be fine, absolutely fine, if the person next to fae would have the decency to leave fae alone. Which they didn’t.

It’s clear to fae that they’re the sort of person to spark up a conversation with strangers, and Loki isn’t really in the mood. Rather, fae wants to plug in faers music and hopefully sleep through most of the flight.

“Hey there, buddy!” faers new companion says cheerfully, strapping themself in, apparently not noticing one earbud already in faer ear, “Going to Venice too, huh?”

Loki feels the well-known urge to roll faers eyes. But suck it up, you know… try to be polite, fae tells faerself. “Sure am.”

The passenger nods, satisfied with the short answer it seems. This is why fae is quick to plug the other headphone in before they can get the chance to change their mind. Maybe it isn’t a big deal, they’ll get the hint, surely.

But boy, fae is soon going to discover how wrong fae is. This is going to be a long trip indeed.

*

It’s about one hour after take-off that the trouble starts, more or less. Loki managed to nod off to sleep in an instant, thank the heavens, because… flying. Not great. Sleeping’s become fae’s number one strategy, if fae absolutely  has to get on a plane, that is.

Fae made sure to give faers older brother shit for this trip due to that very reason, but Thor’s apologetic eyes and the convoluted three other ways of transport he desperately planned to specifically get fae out of that plane was too endearing, and also too much trouble. Fae loves him for it. Fae also hates carrying luggage, so this is definitely the least tiring option.

Soon enough, however, Loki’s stirred from faers slumber by the tinny voice of the pilot over the speakers, and faers new companion tapping the armrest. 

On and on and on. Oh my god, they’re tapping their foot, too.

It’s fine, it’s  fine , fae almost feels bad, but fae’s also antsy and groggy which is in no way a good combination.

Regardless, Loki figures fae might as well shake it off, for now. One hour down, eight left to go.

The tapping, combined with the sickening heat sneaks up on fae way, way too quick now. Fae nears the point of airing a snappy comment towards the person next to fae, which could potentially start an argument but  who cares .

Perhaps luckily faers stream of thought is interrupted by the flight attendant from earlier, blonde ponytail and a slightly strained smile, rolling along a cart of coffee and soft drinks. Or rather, interrupted by their companion calling out for the attendant.

“Oh, excuse me? My apologies,” they say once they have the blonde’s attention, “My buddy here, they were asleep earlier. Didn’t know what you’d like to drink, heh.”

The last part obviously aimed at yours truly, Loki finds faerself furrowing faer brows. That’s… thoughtful. Fae could’ve surely asked for something faerself. Alright. Anyway.

The attendant nods, seeming to hesitate whether they should start listing all the drinks. Loki puts faer hand up in confirmation, “I’d appreciate some black tea, if that’s possible?”

“Of course,” they reply, hilariously chipper. Faer companion winks, which isn’t really a wink because they don’t seem to know  how .

And now, that is what fae expects to be the end of a talk, once more, as fae thanks the blonde and sends them on their way. In fact, fae would grab faers earbuds again, immediately, if the person next to fae didn’t nod in faers direction and tapped the seat twice.

“Sorry to put you on the spot, there,” they say.

Loki tries to keep faer huff in, but to no avail. “Don’t worry about it.”

And faers companion flashes another one of the goofy smiles, such a suburban parent thing. They can’t be more than ten years older than fae, twenty years at the most. The grey hair suits them, Loki decides.

“Oh and how silly of me!” they nearly gasp, “I forgot to ask for your pronouns. I’m terribly sorry.”

Jot fae down as pleasantly surprised.

Fae’ll admit, faer is a little too quick to make assumptions. And given the generational gap, Loki had faer expectations at the very bottom, sadly.

Maybe this person isn’t too bad. Now, at least, whatever. They better be quiet soon, though, because fae’s not sure fae will last a nine hour plane ride with polite small talk, the thought alone is enough to get on faer nerves.

“That’s alright,” fae replies, and if fae returns the smile for just two seconds, it’s not like anyone else will notice, “I go by fae/faer. And you?”

Faers companion’s smile widens by about three sizes, which should be impossible, logistically. “Lovely! He/him for me. Argh, I’ll quit bothering you now, I fear that announcement woke you.”

Loki nods. It did. And he did. Whatever.

“What can you do,” fae sighs, trying to make it significantly less noticeable. “Thanks for the, uh, the tea.”

This man is a lot more pleasant than fae had feared, could definitely have and have had worse company. He’s frustratingly nice, actually. The annoyance will be bearable though, Loki concludes.

And so faer companion waves his hand dismissively, before picking up the magazine from his lap, “No bother. Name’s Mobius, by the way.”

“Loki.”

*

Mobius will soon prove to be interesting company, well, besides the horrendous clumsiness from earlier, which is just more than consistent.

The man has stumbled over Loki’s legs both times he went to the bathroom, dropped the lunch tray from the blonde attendant straight on the floor and had to get it replaced, and, of bloody course, couldn’t figure out the small television without fae’s help.  It’s fine .

It’s not nearly as angering as faers brother at his most oblivious and annoying, but fae  needs to sleep again at some point. Soon.

Loki would be lying, though, if fae claimed the sheepish smile from faer companion wasn’t just a tiny bit endearing.

Fae can imagine Thor wiggling his brows if he saw fae, now.

This Mobius is just so overbearingly polite and ridiculous, it strangely doesn’t bother Loki all that much. Fae’s not going soft for a complete stranger, though. How dare you even suggest such a thing? 

And when fae attempts to fall asleep for the second time, for real, Mobius starts rummaging for  something  on his side and tapping his feet obnoxiously loud and adjusting the air conditioning when it was already perfect,  thank you very much , Loki’s just about to put faer rule of politeness to hell and let the man know what fae thinks until-

Fae stops in faer tracks for a second.

Mobius is humming. Another reason to be annoyed, perhaps, only detail is that Loki instantly recognizes the melody, not from faer own playlist, but a place a bit further away in faer memory.

That’s  Blackbird. No doubt about it.

Who is fae kidding, logistically, there’s probably only a tiny fraction of the human population that  doesn’t  know The Beatles. Regardless, it strikes Loki as… nostalgic.

Faer mother used to sing that song, in particular. It was her favorite, fae recalls. She even sung it to fae and Thor when they were very young. Long before she got sick. And… okay.

Loki shakes faer head at faerself.  Not now .

But that memory’s been distant for a while, so it’s rather almost relieving to unlock it now, the revelation that it still exists, still tangible if fae digs it up from faer recollection. 

You see, Thor talks about their mother a lot. He can deal with emotion, you know, unlike faerself, hence why faer older brother is the best shoulder to cry on. But don’t tell him fae said that.

For some reason, the words slip out of fae’s mouth before fae can stop them, “I love that song.”

The man next to fae seems to startle for a moment, but quickly collects himself. “Hm?”

“My apologies, uh… you were humming.  Blackbird. ”

Mobius’ eyes widen, like he’s had the biggest revelation of his life, “Ah! Me too. Gave that one to my daughter, actually- she collects vinyl records, and that was her first.”

Loki finds faerself chuckling, fondly, in a way that seems uncharacteristic, even to faerself. Reminds fae of faer mother, again.

“My mother used to sing me that,” fae decides to tell, since the man has already shared some information from his life, might as well return the favor, “When my brother and I were little, growing up.”

And Mobius puts the crossword page of magazine he was occupying himself with before down, already engaged in the short conversation, that… is a little endearing, fae’ll admit it. “It’s a classic. Are you traveling with them? If you don’t mind me asking, of course.”

Loki waves a hand, “You could say that, hah. My brother’s getting married tomorrow.”

This news only excites the grey haired man more, by several degrees. He’s grinning, at this point, and almost jumping in his seat, as if he’s been waiting for something,  anything  to celebrate. “Oh my, congratulations!”

Fae nods, simply, shortly. Hopefully it still conveys that fae is very much excited for the big day. Loki feels bad that fae doesn't quite express this that much, not… bursting with energy as many would, but that doesn’t mean fae’s not happy!

“Got stuck on ringbearer duty,” fae jokes, grimacing for good measure. Wait, fae’s joking with a stranger right now? What the fuck?

“Of course,” Mobius replies, getting the sarcasm, thank heavens. And when Loki asks the same question, he laughs, “Not nearly as exciting here, I’m afraid. My ex-husband and I split up a year ago, and I haven’t exactly had any vacation since then, so… flying solo.”

This is something that could make Loki flinch, almost.

First of all, embarrassing to ask something personal and the reveal of something  that  personal and that just makes fae feel all kinds of rude. Second of all, ex-  husband , huh. Wait, wait, wait. That’s not shocking, fae means… it’s not like fae starts to think about the fact that the man next to fae is single or anything. What?

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“No, no, don’t apologise. Peaceful divorce, no worries there.” This talk is… nice. Another sort of peaceful silence falls upon them and it isn’t even uncomfortable, Loki thinks. Fucking weird.

And fae guesses that  maybe  Mobius is attractive, his face is soft and smile annoyingly contagious and his hands are rugged, wonder what he works with- no,  no , stop. Brain, shut it. Shut it down immediately.

Thor would be having a real field day if he could see fae, right now.

“One day, you’ll find someone to melt your heart, trust me!” he had assured fae - once again, older brother, such a romantic, they couldn’t be more opposite. Perhaps that’s why they get along so well.

And so their talk progresses, and it’s really not that dull small talk to fill the void as Loki expected. Most shocking thing all day, of the year, even, fae might just like this man’s company. 

Turns out this Mobius has an extraordinary interest in watersports, particular jet skis, knows way too many facts about that, too. He’s also a history teacher, and likes pineapple on pizza, which is nearly unforgivable, but he also shows Loki tons of vacation pictures of him on said jetskis, and him with his daughter, and his dog, so fae will look past it.

Pity this is a chance encounter, in… six and a half hours, they’ll be on the ground and fae probably won’t ever see the man with the silver hair and moustache and horrendous flamingo shirt ever again. 

Perhaps it’s for the best.

*

Good news! Loki finally managed to fall asleep again, fae was due for that, only to be awakened once more by shaking and tumbling.

Until now, fae’s been talking more and more with the man next to fae and noticing little things about Mobius which fae doesn’t want to consider too much why fae is noticing or why fae is finding him adorable and attractive and way too funny for his own good. Right.

Is Loki turning into faer brother, right? God forbid.

But the grey haired man’s jokes are good, fae swears. And he’s so goddamn polite and has apologised to fae for the smallest things,  even going to the bathroom , so many times that fae’s lost count. Now, normally, a stranger next to fae being this unable to sit still or be quiet, but… at this point, Loki’s struggling to be mad about anything.

Mobius’ voice, even, is strangely soothing, huh. It goes even softer and almost to the point of a whisper when he talks about his daughter, which may or may not make fae’s heart warm. Just a bit. Listen. Listen.

He just sounds so caring, right?

Besides that, his hands. And eyes. Everything about him just exudes warmth, for some reason. Strangely enough, it makes Loki want to hold the man’s hand. Nuh uh, not happening.

Maybe that’s why fae somehow found it easier to fall asleep again, about halfway through the flight. A sense of safety, somehow. That is, until fae’s now awake once again, the seat feels like it’s moving, most passengers back seated and strapped in, the plastic cup of water on Mobius’ tray table looking awfully disturbed and fragile.

Shit.  This is not good. Not good at all.

Granted this is probably just turbulence, right? Right. Most flight crashes begin with turbulence, though, don’t they? 

Oh god. Why is fae’s companion so fucking calm right now? This is bullshit.

Loki feels like ripping faer seatbelt off and screaming at whoever is responsible for this, but no one is and fae’s legs feel frozen and hands are shaking way,  way  too much.

When the sky turned grey when they were younger, when they were home alone as their mother was in the hospital and their father was… God knows where, Thor used to comfort fae. Loki’s always been scared of lightning. Fae’s older brother loves it, fascinated by it for some stupid reason, but Thor also knows when fae needs him without even saying anything.

His presence alone helped, and he’d only hug fae when fae asked. What the fuck is Loki supposed to do now?

Fae is not about to cry in a damned airplane full of strangers because of turbulence. Absolutely not happening. But fae’s throat is almost closed up, now, Loki can’t do  anything , even if fae wanted to.

It’s sort of like the world’s cracking and swallowing fae up. No, fae doesn’t really give a shit if fae sounds overdramatic right now, because fae’s freaking out, almost to the point of the tears stinging like needles behind Loki’s eyes, and if the tight feeling in faer chest is any indication, this is bad. No. No, no, no.

Thing is, Loki doesn’t quite realise how long the shaking’s been despite the pilot reminding them all to remain calm, or how long fae’s been stuck without being able to breathe, until a hand comes to rest on faer upper arm.

Fae can’t even turn faer head, but notices the touch immediately. Then, a whisper of unintelligible words meets fae, Loki doesn’t understand, so fae swallows thickly and gets a, “I beg your pardon?” out through clenched teeth.

“Is there anything I can do?” The question comes clearer now. Loki frowns, faer hands shaking even more than before.

“What?”

“To help. I know it’s scary,” Mobius says. He sounds eerily calm, but also as a fog of assurance and stability, distracting fae even if it’s just for a second or two.”

Loki sniffs, shakes faer head at faerself, “This is childish.”

“Fear isn’t childish, darling,” the man says, and when fae finally finds some way to look at him, a bearable way through the held in tears and the voice in faer head nagging fae to suck it and not be such a fucking coward, Mobius smiles, “If you want me to leave you alone, I will.”

So Loki considers this. That is, after all, what fae wants about 95% of the time.

However, embarrassingly enough, fae sort of has come to prefer the attention of faer companion. Fae hates him a little bit for it.

“Do you mind if I hold your hand?” Loki asks then, surprising faerself, and Mobius perhaps, but maybe he’s just hiding it. The request for affection sounds strange in faer mouth. “I just need a moment.”

And will you look at that, the grey haired man has already grabbed faer hand before replying. Softly, simply a hand moving down from faer arm and resting on faer knuckles. Loki decides to latch onto his hand, because screw it. Mobius doesn’t remove it.

“Not at all,” he replies.

This is, by all measurements, very uncommon.

Loki’s holding a complete stranger’s hand, a stranger who offered comfort and fae asked for comfort, a stranger who apparently could see past faer gritted teeth and realise just how scared fae was. 

The turbulence feels like it’s never going to end. Mobius doesn’t say anything, or hum anything, or tap his foot like he did before. Just looks at his little screen and suddenly taps his thumb one time on the back of Loki’s hand, and while fae still can’t breathe, fae does nod to the man offering one of his earbuds to him.

The Beatles, typical.

When Loki counts the minutes of each song, it helps. Fae focuses on the strumming of the guitar and the warmth of the man’s hand in his until fae’s own has stopped shaking completely, and not long after the plane stops, too. 

They’ve passed. The glowing seat belt sign is turned off. A two digit number of passengers rush for the bathrooms. The baby four rows down has stopped crying.

Loki sniffs once, breathes out like faer life depends on it, before realising and extracting faer hand from Mobius’. Fae held onto it for way longer than necessary. The grey haired man just smiles again, however, snaps his fingers and offers fae a piece of gum. “You did great.”

Fae accepts. Why does Mobius feel… safe, somehow? They’ve known each other for seven hours now, goddamnit.

Whatever. Maybe fae can catch sleep for the rest of the trip.

But then, fae only now realises what the man next to fae said earlier, or rather, what he called.

Darling . That’s a nickname. A nickname by a divorced dad who enjoys The Beatles and wears printed shirts and is passionate about jet skis and holds Loki’s hand when fae’s nervous. Alright, then.

*

To Loki’s and probably everyone’s surprise, those nine hours have suddenly passed surprisingly fast.

Soon enough, they’re preparing for landing and fae’s not feeling like the world’s crashing down and Mobius is chatting again, which fae doesn’t mind at all anymore. Damn that man.

But here they are, on the ground, and faer companion is grabbing his luggage and gestures for Loki to go first, such a gentleman, and he’s smiling so stupidly all the goddamn time, it’s exhausting. Almost.

In fact, Loki’s caught up with Mobius and his chatting and his gestures and faer own thoughts and smile fae can’t hide until a text pops into faer phone, from Thor. Over half of it is emojis, faer older brother is ridiculous, but fae reassures him fae has safely arrived, now fae just has to get to the hotel.

The rehearsal dinner is early in the morning, so fae better get unpacked.

Brunnhilde sends a group of selfies with Jane, too, because you know, couples. Loki being the only single person in their friend group at this point is in no way surprising, and it’s not like fae was eager to bring a date to the wedding, either.

Except… well.

Fae is tragically still staring at Mobius just a little too long when they pick up their suitcases, the conversation dwelled to a comfortable silence already.

The grey haired man must be talking on the phone with his daughter, if the, “I love you,” is any indicator, then he tells a puns that is just so bad fae can hear her laugh from the speaker. He also freaks out about his lost sunglasses until Loki nicely ( very  nicely) points them out on the top of his head.

Okay. Loki’s about to do the stupidest thing in faer life. Here goes nothing.

“Mobius,” fae says as they exit the airport out into the street, fellow tourists bustling alongside them, “I have an… unusual preposition, if that’s alright. If you’re not in a rush?”

Loki finds the nerves bottling up in faerself, for some reason. Fae picks at faer black nail polish before the man turns back to fae with a raised brow and smile perfectly intact.

“I’m all ears,” he grins. Fae may feel a little like floating.

Fae also takes a deep breath before continuing, “Remember my brother’s wedding tomorrow?” It’s more a rhetorical question, but Mobius nods in certainty.

“Well, Thor- my brother, offered me a plus one, of course,” Loki starts out, trying to word it in a way that doesn’t sound absolutely absurd, “I don’t have one, uh… a date. And well, I was wondering if you’d like to come with me.”

The grey haired man raises both his eyebrows now, seeming deep in thought.

Was that weird? It was weird. Can fae even save this, oh god, “I mean, you’re probably busy. Gosh, my apologies, that was stupid-”

“Loki,” Mobius interrupts, a hand on faer upper arm once again, grin turning even bigger and warmer if not just a tiny bit curious. He adjusts the sunglasses on his nose before continuing, “That was far from stupid, I assure you. I will say I’m probably not a good choice for that.”

Loki almost wants to scream. “What do you mean?”

Faer companion has this habit of laughing at himself. Loki still can’t decide if it’s most endearing or annoying.

“I’m just an old fool,” Mobius tells fae. That’s rather infuriating, definitely false, but fae can’t bring faerself to interrupt, everything about the man just signalling softness and familiarity and like an embrace of some kind that fae hasn’t even experienced, “Can’t imagine why someone as… stunning as yourself would want me around, is all.”

Loki softens faer irrational irritation several degrees. The compliment might even cause a blush to rise in faer cheeks, but you take that to your grave.

Fae likes this Mobius, that’s absolutely certain. An old fool, faer ass. Consider that faer new plan, to get to know faer new companion way more than this. Hopefully soon. Hopefully for more than just this vacation, maybe. One can dream.

“Excuse my bluntness,” Loki answers, already reaching out for the man’s hand the same way he did to fae mere hours ago. This is new, and yet, like coming back home. “But I don’t think I’d want anyone else.”

[no-gorms]

Hi! If you're alright with a request, can you do something with Steve or Tony sitting in the other's lap as a joke? Or refusing to sit in the other's lap? Thanks! Feel free to ignore this if you're busy or uninspired or whatever.

Hello, this is ridiculous but I hope you like!

Steve/Tony, lap-sitting, background Bruce/Nat (also on ao3)

+

It’s nice to visit the Barton farm on their own terms, without the threat of world annihilation looming over their heads. A city boy Steve may be, but he gets the appeal of the place – the peace, the quiet, and especially the (comforting illusion of) distance from the never-ending stream of Avengers-related problems back in the city. Here it is calm, and here they can recharge.

Not that the others seem interested in recharging. They’re all outside the house: Natasha and Clint are having an intensely polite disagreement on how to handle the grill, Thor and Sam are chasing and being chased by various Barton kids, and Bruce and Tony seem to be yelling at each other about the chairs.

Steve’s on the porch, a glass of lemonade in his hand. He follows the steps down, into the thick of Bruce’s huffing at Tony.

“That’s my jacket,” Bruce is saying, his hands on his hips. He’s looming over the only deck chair among the series of wooden chairs, in which Tony is sitting in with his legs stretched out in front of him.

“That doesn’t mean dibs,” Tony says. “If you wanted the deck chair—”

“Then I should have put something of mine on it to call dibs? Is that what I should have done?” Bruce looks up at Steve’s approach. “Cap, Tony stole my chair.”

“I already said that we can share,” Tony says.

“There are other chairs, Bruce,” Steve points out.

“It’s the principle of it,” Bruce says quietly.

“Look, right here.” Tony pats his lap. “Is it the view, is that what you want? Come on, make yourself comfy.”

Bruce hums thoughtfully. “What if I Hulk out and then sit on you?”

“Bruce,” Steve says.

“Maybe you can ask Cap to build you another one,” Tony says.

“I thought building things was your specialty,” Bruce says.

“Tony, just let Bruce have the chair,” Steve says.

“Why are you taking his side!” Tony exclaims.

“Because he knows a chair thief when he sees one,” Bruce says. “I could flatten you. Like that.”

“No, you’re what, 170? That’s nothing. Come on.” Tony gestures at himself, while Bruce’s face twists in irritation. “It’s early, but you can tell Santa Stark what you want for Christmas.”

“You’re both being ridiculous.” Steve doesn’t exactly know why he does it. It’s probably a combination of the easy atmosphere, Bruce’s petty seething, Tony’s petty mockery, and the refreshing ridiculousness of their arguing about a chair instead of anything really important, which makes Steve want to take the most nonsensical route as is befitting the situation.

So Steve sits on Tony’s lap. He does it over Tony’s squawk of surprise, his back facing Tony and his feet flat on the ground, with his knees and Tony’s knees in rough alignment. Steve takes care to spread his weight carefully to avoid squashing him, though the solid muscle of Tony’s thighs really do seem to take his weight just fine.

Bruce blinks a few times. His expression clears. “Okay, this works for me. Enjoy your deck chair.” He happily trots over to another empty chairand sits down.

“Nooooo,” Tony whines, his voice somewhere to the left of Steve’s neck. “I’m being crushed. I’m dying. This is cruel, even for you.”

“The view is nice, actually,” Steve says.

“Not that I can see anything now, thanks,” Tony grumps.

Steve takes another sip of his drink. “Why did Bruce want this chair?”

“He’s just holding a grudge because he thinks I took his chair on the Quinjet earlier,” Tony says.

“Did you?”

“Yeah, but that’s only ‘cause, like, I thought he’d want to sit next to Nat.”

Steve sighs. “Tony.”

“What!” Tony shifts a little, and Steve moves his weight higher up to reduce pressure on Tony’s knees. It’s kind of nice, actually – Tony’s lapis firm but with some cushiony give, though Steve will definitely get up in a minute or so once his point is made. “So if Bruce thinks I just have a weird chair-stealing fixation, then he can keep on believing that I’m dumb enough to not have noticed that that thing is going on.”

“Or maybe you can just not interfere at all,” Steve suggests.

“Oh please, like you haven’t not done anything yourself.”

“I haven’t been reduced to stealing furniture, no.”

“I have lows that will surprise even you.” Tony pauses. “As do you, apparently.”

Steve laughs under his breath. “Yeah.” He glances over at Bruce, who’s made his comfortable sitting in one chair, and his legs propped up on another. “Okay, Bruce is looking better, so please don’t antagonize him any more than necessary, all right?”

Steve starts to move his weight forward onto his feet but is stopped by Tony’s quiet: “No, Steve, wait, wait.” Tony’s voice is urgent and barely above a whisper. His hands come to Steve’s waist, fluttering lightly as though unsure if he’s allowed to touch or not. “Just – just don’t move yet, okay?”

Steve immediately tenses up, his first thought being that he’s hurt Tony. He carefully inches to the side a little, hoping to ease the pressure on Tony’s lap, and this is when he feels something twitch under his right buttcheek.

Steve freezes, Tony freezes, and the whole world briefly takes on the shocking glow of revelation, before it fades and devolves back to a relaxed and scenic daytime barbecue. A couple of yards away, Thor is holding Mjolnir out and letting a pair of the Barton kids swing from the handle.

“Ah.” Steve adds quickly, “Tony, it’s okay. You don’t need to freak out.”

“Me?” Tony says. “You think I’m the one who should be freaking out?”

Steve rolls his eyes, though Tony can’t see it. “I’m afraid to have to tell you this, but your appreciation of my ass is not subtle.”

“Okay fair, but, uh… that’s just, you know, aesthetic appreciation and this is, um…”

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” Steve says gently. “You want to me stay until it goes down? I can tell you some bad jokes, if it helps? Sam told me some doozies the other day.”

Tony doesn’t reply. Steve moves again, only to find that the tell-tale length feels rather more solid than it was five seconds ago.

“Wait, really?” Steve says in disbelief.

“It’s sexy, okay!” Tony hisses. “When you’re sweet and thoughtful it’s really sexy! If you want to help, you need to not do anything or say anything.”

“All right. Oh.” Steve shuts his mouth and keeps it shut. At least, he tries to keep it shut and be quiet, but he’s compelled to say out loud, “Sexy? Really?”

“You know what does not help? You saying that word.”

“Sexy? Or sex?”

“Steve!” Tony digs his fingers into Steve’s sides, making him half-yelp half-laugh. “Come on, you’ve been really mean to me today!”

“All right, sorry.” Steve releases a slow, calming exhale. “I’m sorry, I’ll be nice.” Then, because he can’t help himself from grabbing a once-in-a-blue-moon chance, “Just like how your thighs are nice.”

“Steve!” Tony exclaims. “Uh. Really?”

“Very solid.” Steve nods. “Comfy.”

“Oh. Thanks. I mean, I try not to miss leg day.”

“Excellent results.”

“Cool. Very cool. Yep. Okay, you can get off—I mean, you can…” Tony groans, which is Steve’s cue to slide off of Tony’s lap entirely and parkhis butt on the significantly less-warm and less-comfy slats of the deck chair.

Tony swings his legs over to one side and plants his feet on the ground, so that they’re effectively sitting by side. Tony doesn’t cross his legs, but Steve can see that he wants to.

They sit like that for a handful of weighty seconds, while the smell of the grill wafts over. Someone might even have yelled that the food is ready, not that Steve’s been paying attention.

Steve clears his throat. “You feeling better?”

“Yep,” Tony says. “Much. Thanks. But I think I’ll stay here for a while.”

“You want me to get a plate for you?”

“You would?” Tony definitely aborts crossing his legs just then, which is all sorts of flattering. “Yeah, that’d be nice, thanks.”

Steve stands up. He could go and will go, but Tony’s starting to look miserable, which just won’t do. “Okay,” Steve says, firmly but kindly, “Iam sorry that I made you uncomfortable—”

“Geez, Steve,” Tony sighs.

“—but would it make you feel better if I had one, too?”

“I don’t…” Tony trails off, his eyes widening. He slowly looks up at Steve. “You do?”

“Not right now, but I could.” This is 100% the wrong place for this, but isn’t it just like Steve’s life to dangle opportunities at the most inopportune moment. “For you. If it’d make you feel better.” Steve wills meaning into the words, and doubly wills Tony to understand.

“I… think it would,” Tony says slowly. “But not right now. Like you said.”

“Later?” Steve says, just to be sure.

Tony nods. “Later. Okay. Yeah.”

Steve smiles, and feels a leap in his chest when Tony responds with a dazed smile of his own.

“Good,” Steve says softly, and bounds off to get some lunch for both of them.

Though Steve’s enhanced hearing means that he still catches Tony’s under-the-breath, “What just happened?”

[renaroo]

That Time Ted Kord and Barbara Gordon Invented Sexting in the DCU

[Birds of Prey (1999-2009) #25]

There’s a lot of things I would like to end the decade on, and I’ve got a Cassandra Cain post I want to get up, but I am called to talk about one of the most important, most obscure parts of the DC Universe that happened 20 years ago. Also I’m shameless and encouraged by @secretlystephaniebrown​ and @shobogan​ so here we go.

DC, and most comics really, have this bad habit of minimizing or erasing past relationships of characters in order to “simplify” romantic narratives with an endgame pair. 

In some ways, I suppose I get it. There is a certain joy I can take from the notions of pure love and meant to be, and with these two characters in particular -- Ted Kord (Blue Beetle II) and Barbara Gordon (Batgirl I/Oracle) -- I have very passionate feelings toward other pairings with them.

But my god. What is lost in the world and in your perspective on both of these characters if you do not know their history together. No, seriously! It’s great!

Ted and Babs are both well established nerds in the DCU even before the 90s. On every team Ted’s a part of he is one-half prankster and one-half tech support, to his continued chagrin. And Babs’ technical skills and eidetic memory are among her most famous traits, even when she was the Batgirl of the Bronze Age. 

By the 90s both of them had also been through a lot -- Ted had gained and lost a dozen teams it felt like by that point, Barbara had survived her attack by the Joker but had only begun to establish herself more widely in the superhero community as Oracle, and the Birds of Prey were literally just starting out. 

Babs had Dinah, but was still not revealing her identity to Dinah, she needed a friend. And, online in a techie forum, she made one:

[Birds of Prey (1999-2009) #2] 

This friendship blossoms for a while as purely digital space across quite a few issues -- a lot of good issues of the early Chuck Dixon run which is an under-read treat these days, I feel. It still has its... Dixon on it, but the characters are great and this relationship is just one example of them.

Ted helps Babs out quite a bit and finally, they’re ready to meet in person.

[Birds of Prey (1999-2009) #15]

They’re honestly adorable, and pretty much instantly know each other’s identities. For one, Babs knows all the identities on the Justice League roster. For two, Ted can put together pretty quickly what tech-related superhero would have access to that kind of information.

For three, they went to a meet up in color coordination with their hero identities. Which of course is protocol in comics but still.

Point stands.

Ted stays in the picture for a long time after this, he’s a good friend and confidante to Babs and they’re genuinely interested in each other’s company. Platonically or romantically? It doesn’t seem to really matter until it’s finally the end of a long and tough arc, and Ted is forced back into wearing his Beetle suit again.

And they have a serious conversation about their relationship that ends like most interactions with Ted do: a good laugh.

[Birds of Prey (1999-2009) #25]

Ted and Babs actually relied on each other a lot as friends after that. Ted was Beetle on and off again, but Babs could tell that something was up and was firm in pushing Ted to go to a doctor to get himself looked at. 

If she hadn’t, Ted could’ve gone without treatment for a severe heart condition that had already cost him 3 heart attacks without him realizing it. 

[Birds of Prey (1999-2009) #40]

And, the first person he tells, is Babs.

[Birds of Prey (1999-2009) #41]

Unfortunately, about this time is where comics get. Weird and difficult because as writers move books or even just as storylines naturally shift for bigger parts of the stories, things get dropped unless it’s picked up elsewhere. 

A few comics like Formerly Known as the Justice League (2003-2004) would call back to their relationship and it would be in the pseudoromantic and fun banter that had had for the 90s and early 2000s, but it never picked up as a focus again. 

[Formerly Known as. Justice League (2003-2004) #5]

By 2006, Ted was dead, murdered by Max Lord after he got on the right trail for what was happening with Checkmate and the OMAC Project that Bruce had on the back burner. And he was alone, after almost all of the superhero community ignored or downplayed the importance of what he was finding (except for Booster). 

Unfortunately, that included Barbara.

She’s not outright dismissive and she’s not cruel or condescending to him in the ways other heroes are at the final hour, but her attention is elsewhere. They grew apart from where they were, Ted’s reputation was at an all time low to other heroes while Babs’ and the Birds of Prey were at their height. 

So she gave him the final clues that would lead to the discovery of OMAC. And would send Ted to his death. 

[Countdown to Infinite Crisis (2005) #1]

One thing I do appreciate, though, is that unlike a lot of comic character deaths, Ted’s did actually have impact, and it had it for years. Especially for those closest to him.

I could (and probably should) do an entire history lesson on Booster Gold and the impact their relationship has had over the years, but we’ll stick with Babs here, because Babs was allowed to grieve and honor her friend, too.

Something that wouldn’t happen in the future with other characters important to Babs’ life.

Ted was special, though, and Birds of Prey knew that and had an issue that spent a lot of very good time honoring that and his history with Babs and the rest of the team.

Which is where we get our confirmation that Babs and Ted were Cyber-Doing it before it was ever popular in one of my favorite exchanges of all time

[Birds of Prey (1999-2006) #96]

Now, am I going to wax poetically about the tragedy of Babs and Ted’s forgotten fling to force the diehards into multishipping admittance with my undeniable canon fact?

Yes.

I mean no! Not really -- I’m a diehard Boostle shipper who doesn’t budge for much and my shipping opinions for Babs are pretty firm as well. 

What I’m attempting to get at here is that they have a good history, that their characters and understanding their relationships with others, make them more interesting and complex characters with fun and joy to be explored in multiple angles, even when you have your penned, perfect ending for them.

And I think erasing that in favor of perpetuating this idea that people come out of the womb with this set romantic path that any deterrence there from has to be either meaningless or actively horrible is at best less fun you can be having in these expansive universes, and at worst actively hurtful to people’s world views and expectations. 

But also. 

Babs and Ted were actively sexting in 1999 and that is an important - neigh, historically significant -- event in the wider DCU so. 

Booster Gold has to have a storyline someday where he has to save this moment from never happening. And I will co-write it with you, Dan Jurgens, please. 

[opheliawritesxo]

When In Paris

Prompt (in bold): 26 – “I call dibs.”

Pairing: 12 – STUCKY

Summary: After Bucky’s first mission back with the team, the quinjet breaks down so the Avengers have to spend the night in a hotel and of course the two boys from Brooklyn pair up; but there’s a problem. There’s only one bed which causes Steve to have a goddamn crisis and Bucky does what he always does, save the punk’s ass.

Warnings: pure fluff that it’ll rot your teeth, an extremely over used trope, implied smut (if you squint but read between the lines y’all), strong language

Word Count: 1.9k

A/N: This is day 1 of 30 prompts. The list is here if you wanna check it out (x) I’m hoping y’all will get smut by day thirty but even with eleven years of fan-fiction writing experience under my belt smut is something I’ve never tried so y’know have some fluff for now (which is a rarity in itself so count yourselves lucky). ALSO DID I REALLY MANAGE TO WRITE LESS THAN 2K I AM SHOOKETH

Sitting outside on the fire escape, Bucky relished in being back in Brooklyn after so long away. Once again sharing an apartment with Steve, it truly felt like being home again. Except instead of Bucky heading to the docks and Steve staying at home, their roles were switched. Bucky still wasn’t called out on missions, not yet anyway. He’d only recently passed his med and psych evaluation, but he knew Steve was wary about him being back in the field.

           “Buck?” He heard the sleepy voice of his best friend call; it was only then that Bucky realised it was 3am and he should probably be in bed.

“Yeah?” He called back, pushing himself to his feet and heading towards the window.

“There’s a mission, kinda big.” Bucky raised an eyebrow at the towering blonde as he stood in front of him, half in his suit.

“You wanna bring me in?” Steve sighed, rubbing between his eyes.

“It’s a hydra base, we kinda need your expertise here but you don’t have to actively go inside. You could stay on the quinjet and just feed us information.” He rambled; Bucky couldn’t stop the small smile that was forming.

“Nah I don’t mind. S’not like they can put me under, all the words are gone, and I got the fancy new arm from Shuri. Is everyone going?”

“Uh yeah.. think so.”

“Well then punk, looks like my biggest worry is gonna be Stark.” Bucky grinned as he squeezed Steve’s shoulder, heading to pull on his uniform for the first time. It was safe to say he was nervous about what was going to happen, but he’d always had Steve’s six and he’d had his.

The mission itself went exactly to plan, a rarity but it did happen occasionally. The only thing that went wrong was the quinjet breaking down before they headed back causing them to have to stay at a hotel for the night whilst Tony sent for a replacement. They were in a beautiful hotel in the outskirts of Paris, the most romantic city in the world. Tony, as expected, took a room to himself with Bruce and Thor partnering up same with Natasha and Clint which left Steve and Bucky.

           After being handed their keys, the two boys from Brooklyn headed upstairs. Their room was on the top floor with three floors between them and any of the other Avengers which Tony helpfully pointed out with a wink. Steve was used to Tony’s innuendos and just took the keys with a shake of his head, but Bucky was certainly confused at the implication. So, what if there were three floors between them and the others, what was the big deal? It wasn’t until they both walked into the room that Bucky’s brain finally decided to catch up with him.

“Tony, you son of a bitch.” Steve grumbled as he looked ahead of him. Bucky raised an eyebrow, peaking to the side of Steve to see what cause the ‘I’m-disappointed-in-you’ grumble; a staple for 30’s Steve. Mainly seen whenever Bucky would work longer at the docks without telling Steve.

There was only one bed.

“I call dibs.” Bucky helpfully called as he made a beeline for it, jumping on top of it and stretching himself it. He didn’t understand why Steve was so disgruntled by it, not like they shared a bed for their whole childhood and even before Bucky shipped out. Saved a lot of money on heating when they could just share body heat.

“I’ll take the floor.” Those words from Steve stopped Bucky in his tracks. Pushing himself up on his elbows.

“No, you won’t.” Bucky muttered as he looked over at the man. “C’mon Stevie, this bed is big enough for both of us. You’re gonna fuck up your back if you sleep down there.”

“Seriously Buck it’s fine.” Groaning, Bucky pushed himself to his feet. Grabbing pillows off the bed and placing them on the floor. “What ya doin’?”

“Well if you’re gonna be a dumbass and sleep on the floor then I am too. Either we both sleep in there,” He smirked, motioning to the bed. “Or neither of us do.” His hands were placed firmly on his hips, mimicking Steve’s most famous pose.

           Groaning with his head in his hands, Steve rubbed at his face before throwing his hands in the air. “Fine! If we’re playing that game then I guess we’re both sleeping in the bed. You win jerk.” He mumbled.

“Always do punk.” Bucky’s cheshire cat grin slipping straight onto his face as if it hadn’t been dormant for seventy years. That only served to make Steve’s heart skip a beat. “Now c’mon, I’m beat.” Steve gulped and made for the bed still in his full uniform, but Bucky stopped him with just a look.

“What Buck?” He sighed.

“You’re not wearing your full tac gear in bed.” Steve felt a blush rise up his cheeks.

“I-“

“Stevie for fucks sake just take it off and get into bed. I’m going into the bathroom if it’s your modesty you’re worried about.” The former assassin grumbled as he made his way into the bathroom. Groaning Steve quickly pulled off his suit leaving him in just his undershirt and boxers. He chastised his past self for not wearing looser boxer briefs.

           You see the problem here was that Steven Grant Rogers had been head over heels for one James Buchanan Barnes since he was fourteen. Now he’d never acted on it because he was in fact; a big ‘ole scaredy cat. With his myriad of health problems back pre-serum he never had to worry about sharing a bed with Bucky because at the time it was just sensible and any appendages that might take interest in snuggling into the most attractive man Steve had ever come across in his life, didn’t particularly work; see previous myriad of health problems. Then came war and they didn’t really get a chance to share a sleeping bag or even a tent for the short time they were together with the Howlies. Now in the 21st Century with actual honest to god proper heating that you could control at the touch of a button, there was no need to share a bed.

Steve made his way under the covers and buried himself in as far as he could go. As Bucky came back out he snorted at the mound under the covers.

“What are you doing?”

“Nothin’ m’just tired.” The man with the apparent plan let out an exaggerated yawn as if to say ‘look at me this is not suspicious at all no sir, nothing to see here.’

“Uh huh, whatever you say punk.” Unlike Steve, Bucky was quite happy to strip off his tac gear in plain view for Steve. Opting to go shirtless and in the tightest pair of tighty whities Steve had ever seen causing a very unmanly squeak to fire its way out of his throat. He was doomed.

Bucky just rolled his eyes, sauntering over and pulling at the covers so he could get in, since Steve had them in a white knuckled grip. Settling in, Steve moved himself right to the edge of the bed. Bucky had, had enough. This couldn’t go on any longer.

“Okay I’m sick of this. What the fucking hell is up with you!?” Bucky snapped. “Ever since I came back it’s as if I smell of shit! You can’t get far enough away from me. Gonna tell me what’s going through that idiotic mind of yours or are we gonna continue playing these games?”

Steve was both heartbroken and slightly turned on at Bucky’s tone. He hadn’t meant to have been that obvious in his avoidance but in Steve’s defence it was for Bucky’s own good. The 21st century might be more inclusive than it was back when they were bunking together in Brooklyn, but Steve was still Captain America. He still had a reputation to uphold.

“Buck.. I’m sorry.” Steve muttered as he scooted closer to the other man. “I didn’t mean to be a dick ‘bout it I just.. I’m.. well.. there’s things about me you’re not gonna like.”

“Stevie, I like everything about you. Try again.”

“You don’t get it Bucky! I-I’ve been keeping this secret since I was fourteen and I don’t- I’m scared alright?” He croaked, closing his eyes so he didn’t have to look at the eyes that gave him his last happy thought before he crashed the Valkyrie into the ice.

           Bucky sighed, placing a soft hand over Steve’s which was lying in between them. “I’ve known you since you were seven punk. There ain’t no secret about you that I don’t already know.”

Steve scoffed, wishing he had the strength to pull his hand away. “So, you know I’m gay then?” He snapped.

“Yup.” Bucky replied, exaggerating the P at the end. “You’re not exactly subtle when you’re trying to check out my ass.” Steve’s heart stopped and he truly was a sixteen-year-old kid from Brooklyn again.

“W-What?”

“Oh, come on Steve, you’re smarter than this. Your sixteenth birthday in ’34, we talked ‘bout kissing remember?”

“Uh huh..”

“Remember I kissed you on the couch, told you we had to get practice in before we went out and got ourself some dames?” It was all coming back to Steve now. The looks Bucky used to give him, how Bucky always flirted with the girls but never took them home.

“So you-“

“Yip.”

“All this time?”

“Yes sir.”

“But.. how.. why..”

“’Cause I never found the right time to blurt out ‘hey stevie, see instead of practising kissing can we actually kiss for real ‘cause you’re my best guy and I wanna spend the rest of my life with ya even though we’ll probably get arrested but fuck it’.” Bucky exclaimed, grabbing Steve at the hips and pulling him forward, wrapping his arms around the blonde’s waist.

           Steve couldn’t quite believe this was real. He was pretty sure he’d knocked himself out back at the base and this was all a fever dream. Bucky chuckled softly as he moved to cradle Steve’s face in his hands.

“You like me?” Steve squeaked causing Bucky to erupt in belly aching laughter.

“I think I a bit more than like ya punk. I love you Stevie. Have done ever since I was seventeen.” Steve closed the very small distance between them by practically launching himself at Bucky. Kissing him with every ounce of love and adoration he had to give; which was over seventy years’ worth of it.

“I love you too Bucky, have since I was fourteen.” He whispered, peppering kisses to the others jaw. Bucky was the one to initiate the kiss this time around. It was deeper and more passionate than the one Steve had initiated but it held no less love. The kisses didn’t stop there, there was seventy odd years of making up for lost time to do.

           If they slept through their alarm in the morning and opted to stay in the hotel for a couple of days longer because, when in Paris; there would be nods of understandings and shouts of ‘have fun!’ from the others. In reality though, Natasha would find herself with a lot of favours to call in from the others since she’d been the one to ‘break’ the quinjet. Safe to say, everyone at SHIELD and in the Avengers were wholly aware of how much those two idiots needed to declare their love for each other and just bone for heaven’s sake.

[batboysandgirls]

Tim Drake x Reader - Explosions And Other Saturday Morning Activities - PART 4 - FINALE!

PART ONE HERE, PART TWO HERE, and PART THREE HERE! Title: Explosions And Other Saturday Morning Activities - PART 3 Pairing: Tim Drake x Reader Summary: You’ve made it out of Black Mask’s lair alive, and it’s time for you to have dinner with the batclan, including Bruce Wayne himself (who you still can hardly believe is Batman).  After the dinner, you know you’ll have to decide to make your move with Tim... or let him go.  But you’re not one to give up easily! Notes: Canon-typical descriptions of violence and injuries. Words: 5.4k Taglist:  @silentwhispofhope, @ashfromthesol, @oh-no-my-ravioli, @katelynkargol, @rhymeswithrason, @grincheveryday, @ivysfaves, @hanliz2211

You awoke in a very nice bed that was not your own.  You should be terrified, but the well of terror in your heart was empty.  Now, you were just tired.

You slowly sat up.  You were wearing a silk white nightgown, which might be the softest thing you’ve ever worn.  You were also laying a king sized bed, which might be the first time you’ve ever had a king sized bed to yourself.  It was a large bedroom, sparsely decorated.  There was an empty desk, a mostly empty bookshelf, and a dresser.  The dresser was against the far wall, and you could see your clothes folded and washed on top of it.  To your left, there was a set of glass doors leading to a balcony.  They let in an enormous amount of light, making the whole room bright.  It almost seemed like a dream, although you were pretty sure you were awake.

Looking around, nothing had clicked for you as to where you were, but, somehow, you felt pretty safe.  At this point, if someone was going to kill you, they probably would have succeeded.

You swung your legs over the size of the bed, and there was your phone on a side table.  You almost reached to check your messages, but you didn’t.  Instead, you walked out to the balcony.  The wind blew gently, and you took in the view of beautiful gardens.  You didn’t seem Gotham, and you couldn’t even hear it… had to be pretty far out from the city.

Huh.  Maybe this was a dream.  Or, since you were all in white, was it… no.  No, no, no.

(You probably weren’t dead!  You’d know!  Right?  You’d know if this was the afterlife… right?)

You turned back to the inside, and there was Tim standing in the doorway.  OH!  Thank goodness.  Tim was here… okay, so this must be Wayne Manor.  Pretty house, pretty gardens, way outside of the city proper.  Made some sense.  Still not sure how you got here, but that wasn’t much of a concern.

(You weren’t dead!  Hooray!)

“Tim,” you said, your voice coming out a little soft and a little hoarse.

“How are you feeling?  I was afraid you’d wake up confused about where you were.”  He walked over next to you, and you smiled.

“I first thought this all might be a dream.  Then, I thought I might be dead and this is what happens after.”

Tim raised his eyebrows, alarm on his face, and you laughed.

“But I saw you and thought—that’s right, Tim lives in a mansion outside of Gotham.  I’m alive.”  Tim looked like he was about to apologize, and you shook your head.  “No, no.  That’s just how my brain works.  I assume you guys took me back with you after you stopped Black Mask?”

“Yeah.  They were going to drop you at your apartment unconscious.  You passed out from exhaustion and stress apparently.  But I said you were my girlfriend, and they let me and Bruce take you home with us.”

“Do you think the police officers had read the Buzzfeed article?”

Tim smiled.  “Well, one officer giggled as I explained so I think she might have.”

“Our accidental celebrity relationship coming in handy, for once.”

“For once.”

The conversation lulled, and you found yourself gazing at Tim unabashedly.  He was looking out over the back gardens, thoughtfully.  He was so handsome, it was really unfair.  All you wanted to do was to have him hold you, to run your hand through his hair, to tell him how incredible he is.  But it wasn’t really the time.  And though you were pretty sure Tim did like you a tad, you weren’t sure if he was thinking of anything serious.  Fate had drawn you together once, and you’d been tangled together since then.

You were hoping the Black Mask incident would be the last of your brushes with Gotham’s heroes and villains, but your heart ached a bit at the odds that meant this would be the last of your brushes with one Tim Drake.  Would Tim really be interested in a random intern who had a few freakish experiences that drew you closer to him?  Would he have any free time to dedicate to a girlfriend totally divorced from his duties helping run Wayne Enterprises and from crime fighting?  Probably not…

For now, though, you took in Tim standing before you.  You let that be enough.

Tim finally turned to you.

“Well, I know Alfred’s made an amazing brunch for you.  You should eat something.  Then, you can just relax until we have dinner tonight.”

Dinner.  Right.  Dinner where Bruce Wayne, Batman, which is still weird, will tell you not to reveal the whole Batfamily’s secret identities and probably terrify you in the process.  You should be worrying about that.  Instead, you’re caught on something else.

“Alfred?”

“Alfred is the family butler, but he’s more than just that.  He is family.”

You nodded and slowly realized how hungry you were.  “Does he, um.  Does he make good pancakes?”

Tim grinned from ear to ear.  “The best.”

✹ ✹

“Maybe I was wrong earlier,” you said, mouth full of chocolate chip pancake, “Maybe I did actually die and this is some sort of heaven.”

“Wait, you thought you died?” asked Dick Grayson, eldest Wayne child and also Nightwing.  Of all the superhero identity matching you’d done in your head, that was a no brainer.  The butts were basically identical.

“A death joke!  She’ll fit right in,” Jason said.  Jason Todd, second Wayne child, also the Red Hood.  Just from this pancake brunch, he quickly was becoming your favorite after Tim.

(You weren’t sure what he meant by the death joke, but you smiled anyway.  That seemed to make him even more on your side.)

The youngest child, Damian, didn’t say anything to you, other than a few displeased huffs.  Odds were he was Robin.

Cassandra, who was around Tim’s age to your understanding, didn’t say much either to you, but her eyes and smiles were endlessly kind.  You weren’t sure of her identity… maybe she was just a normal person.  That would be lovely.

(Tim told you that Duke, another brother a couple years younger than him, was out “on patrol,” which meant that he was probably the Signal.  The lone daytime bat.  Wild.)

Bruce Wayne did not appear at brunch, but that was probably for the best.  You needed to work up the emotional strength to face Batman’s scrutiny tonight.

Alfred was working on that by fueling you with pancakes and calling you “Miss _____.”  You called him “Mr. Pennyworth,” and he kind of seemed offended by the formality—but you didn’t give in.

Tim was definitely watching you the whole meal, amused and a little pleased.  It was nice to know someone was paying attention to you, and nicer still to be able to tell they liked what they saw.  You regaled the group with a humorous retelling of the Wayne Tower accident, as well as some weird encounters you’d had as an intern.

After brunch, you returned to the room you’d been in, getting dressed in your somewhat tattered clothes from the previous evening.  You looked in the mirror, a little disappointed.

No, it wasn’t any insecurity about your body.  You thought you looked pretty good, generally speaking. It was just that you looked more put together in the nightgown these people provided than in your own clothes.  There were a lot of holes and tears in the fabrics from the glass exploding onto you.  You hadn’t gone ham on your outfit with a pair of scissors for fun, but it kinda seemed that way.

Someone knocked at the door.  You poked your head out and saw Cassandra standing there, holding a box.

“Hello,” you said, poking your head out.

“Hi,” she said, before handing it over to you.  “Alfred made these.  Adjusted my old things.  Should fit.”

“Oh!  Thank you!  Currently, my clothes are a bit, uh, compromised.”

Cass just smiled with a nod and vanished down the hall.  You put on the clothes and were delighted they fit perfectly.  Did Alfred take your measurements when you were brought to Wayne Manor?  That was a little weird, but very helpful.  It was just a simple black sweater and a pair of jeans.  No holes or rips or tears!  And you looked good.  Perfect.  You wanted to look nice for this dinner, so you could come across as professional.  Someone to be trusted with the batfamily’s secret identities.

(Not for Tim.  No, certainly not to look good for Tim.  Mhmmm.  Nope.)

You spent the following few hours getting a tour of the Manor from Tim, who did compliment your outfit, which was not notable or anything, and just hanging out with him and his siblings playing Scrabble.  The tour was cool, and Tim only blanched once when you asked where they kept all the bat stuff.

(“Um, Bruce didn’t kill me for having you find out my identity, but if I showed you the Batcave, he’s definitely freak.”

“So it’s a cave?  Must be under the house then. That’s pretty sweet.”

“...”

“Is that aspect a secret?”

“Just don’t tell him you know that.”)

As you walked the Manor and played in a Scrabble tournament with the Wayne children, your eyes kept meeting Tim’s.  You would both look away, but it was never long before you found the other’s gaze again.  It made your heart weirdly full but also made you weirdly nervous.

(This dinner is the last thing directly tying you to Tim.  It’s why you got lunch and the whole dating rumor started.  After Bruce Wayne gets his say with you, Tim doesn’t have a reason to reach out to you.  You could reach out to him, start something more, but does he want that?  That look when his bright blue eyes find yours… you hope it’s not wishful thinking to imagine he wants that.)

Duke showed up midway through the Scrabble tournament, but he got to join in.

“It’s round-robin style,” Tim explained as he spelled out l-u-n-a-r off your r-a-t-i-o, “You can join in with whoever finishes next.”

“Only Dick and I made jokes about the fact Robin is literally in the name of the playstyle, if you’d like to immediately hop on that train while you wait,” you added.

Duke laughed at that, and you definitely liked this kid, too.  Honestly, other than Damian being a little stuffy, this strange hodge-podge superhero family was quite wonderful.

Tim and Jason won the tournament, tied for most wins.  Then Damian, then you, then Duke, then Dick, and then Cass.

“Words are hard,” Cass concluded as you all packed up the boards, and you couldn’t agree more.

“Dinner is about to be served,” Alfred said, stopping in the doorway. “If you all would please head to the dining room.”

You felt yourself tense up a bit at that announcement, and, suddenly, Tim was right next to you.  He put a hand on your shoulder and gave it a little squeeze.

“It’s going to be fine.  Our secret identities are much less secret than Bruce wants, but there’s not much he can do about you knowing.”

(You felt more tense about this dinner being over and having no excuses to see Tim than the actual meal itself.  But that’d be a bit odd to tell him that, probably.)

✹ ✹

Dinner began uncomfortably normally.  After you and the rest of the batkids sat down, Bruce Wayne entered and sat at the head of the table.  Everyone went quiet as he took his seat, and then he smiled at you.

“Hello, _____.  It’s wonderful to finally meet you.  How are you?”

This was not the “attempt to reveal our identities and we’ll make your life hell” angle you were expecting.

“I’m, um,” you said, “I’m quite well.  I slept great here.”

“I’m glad.  It’s been a stressful week, hasn’t it?”

You found yourself laughing a bit too loud and too long at that.  When you realized everyone was staring at you—

(Facial expressions.  Dick: “oh god, Bruce.” Jason: “lmao.”  Tim: “BRUCE THAT IS THE UNDERSTATEMENT OF THE YEAR.” Cass: “The shirt really does look lovely.” Duke: “Don’t smile, it’s not that funny, don’t do it, Duke.” Damian: “Ugh.”)

—you closed your mouth.

“Um, yes.  Very stressful.  I’m honestly looking forward to doing intern-y stuff again, without my life being threatened.”

“Would you mind reminding me what your internship is like?”

So you began to explain your Wayne Enterprises internship to Bruce Wayne, which was very strange.  He was paying attention as you explained, asking some questions here and there.  Alfred brought out the first course, which was tomato and cheese soup, and, by the time everyone had finished it, you had exhaustively detailed your intern duties.  You snuck a glance over at Tim as Alfred took away your soup bowl and placed down the main entrée, fettuccine alfredo with chicken.  You were afraid he’d look bored or worried, but he had an easy smile on his face, almost like you were a good dream he was having.  That made your heart flutter a bit.

You fiddled with your pasta a moment before looking up to Bruce.

“Mr. Wayne, are we going to talk about the whole Batman thing, or…?”

You could see Tim’s easy smile fade a bit, and the table instantly became a bit more tense.  Bruce’s gaze was a little heavier now, and you held up your hands.

“Look, I don’t want to cause any problems.  I do not want to get involved in what is your little family activity.  I won’t tell anyone your secret identities.  I’m not even sure of Cass’s alter ego, honestly, but the rest of you—my lips are sealed.

“I guess I was thinking this dinner was going to be you grilling me on how important it is to keep all this secret and threatening to, like, pull my life apart if I try to tell someone.

“And I’m glad you haven’t done that!  Don’t get me wrong.  But, uh.  I was a little puzzled,” you finished.

Bruce Wayne put down his utensils.  He didn’t look angry, but he did look firm.

“_____, I want to make it very clear that, while I expect you to keep our vigilantism a secret, I invited you to dinner primarily as thanks for your help at Wayne Tower.  My only plan to mention keeping our identities a secret was to take you aside before you left, after dinner, and remind you of that.  I would not threaten you or your life in any way.”

“Oh.  Right...” was all you managed before looking sheepishly at your fettuccine.  You felt like the limp noodles before you.)

“I understand why you thought that.  The safety of my family is more important to me than any secret identity.  We’ve lost people before in this line of work—”

(You tried not to think of being eleven years old and hearing Robin had died on the news.  You tried not to remember being, what, fourteen, fifteen, and seeing the report that the female Robin seemed to have died in the huge gang wars.  Most clearly, you tried to not see the footage of the current Robin, his body bloodied, impaled a year or two ago.  Someone draping a blanket over him, and the reporter choking up on camera.  You tried not to think of those images.  You tried, and tried, and failed.)

“—and the most important thing to me in all of this is that Tim is alive because of you.  And I might have lost that fight with Black Mask save Nightwing and Robin coming to help.  We owe you a debt, as does Gotham.”

For the second time in the past twenty four hours, you felt tears well up in your eyes.  You sniffed and wiped them away, chuckling a little to yourself.

“Can I ask you something, Mr. Wayne?”

“Anything.”

You looked at him, his eyes cool like steel.  Set, determined.  “Does it ever go away?” you asked.

“Does what go away?”  Bruce didn’t even look confused or unimpressed at your remark, just ready to answer once he understood.

(You squeezed your hands together.  You could feel the scars from that day at Wayne Tower.  The superficial burns were not fully healed, they probably wouldn’t be for months.  And after you’d have these swaths of skin on your hands that were wrinkled, lighter or darker than the rest of your hands.  And you were going to see those scars every day.  For the rest of your life.)

You hoped he would understand.  “The fear.  The weight.  Of all of it.  Of everything.”

“No.  You can’t stop being afraid, and you can’t ignore the trauma and the pain you’ve experienced,” Bruce said. “But you can, and you will, heal.  You’ll learn to not let fear rule you.  To accept your past and your pain, to know how to think about it and feel about it without being sucked in.”

(You wondered how much he was speaking to your experience, and how much he was speaking for himself.)

“It’s not easy, it’s not linear.  But you’ll get there.  With people who care about you supporting you.  And if you ever need anything, and I truly mean it, anything, you let us know.  Because we will help you too.”

You weren’t sure when you started crying as he spoke, but you were also smiling.

“Thank you, Mr. Wayne,” you said, voice only a little hampered by the tears.

Bruce Wayne smiled at you.  Batman smiled at you.  “Call me Bruce.”

✹ ✹

You were thirteen years old.  You were walking in the Downtown Plaza after getting pizza for dinner with some friends.  The entrance to the Downtown metro stop was maybe two hundred yards away when a storefront across the street exploded, as did a couple other buildings around the Plaza.  Oh.  Oh no.  A bunch of gunmen ran out from it, grabbing people.  There was screaming and dust and smoke and you tripped on something and there’s a man grabbing your arm—

Someone takes your other arm, grabbing your hand, pulling you away from the man as a silver stick (?) came down hard on the man’s shoulder.  You leapt back, a vice grip on the person who pulled you away.  When you turned to see who it was, you almost jumped again.

Robin—the newest Robin, he’d only been spotted a few times—was holding your hand in his left hand, and a bo staff in his right.  The man who’d been after you was collapsed on the ground in front of you, and Robin, without letting go of your hand, tied the guy’s hands.  He collapsed the staff, stuck it on his belt, pulled out some kind of little cord which snapped around the guy’s wrists automatically.  Woah.

“Hold on, I’m getting you out of here.”  He put an arm around your waist, and grabbed a grapple gun from his belt.  You had no idea how he could see, but suddenly you were flying through the cloud of smoke.  Then, you burst out of the smoke and you landed on the edge of this dust cloud.

“T-thank you,” you managed to say.  Robin grinned at you.  He looked like he was almost having fun.  You guessed that made sense—superheroes liking superheroing!

“No problem.  You aren’t hurt, are you?”

“No, I’m—” you gasped as you saw a silhouette in the smoke, towering over Robin’s figure. “LOOK OUT, ROBIN!”

Robin heeded your warning just in time, ducking down as a man swung a metal bat right where his head had been.  His reach was so wide it passed a few inches in front of your nose.  You leapt back as the man stepped out of the smoke, and you watched as Robin managed to strike him with the bo staff.  However, this guy was huge, must be close to seven feet tall, way bigger than the guy who grabbed you earlier.  He grimaced a bit as he got hit, but it was going to take a lot to knock the guy out.  The tight frown on Robin’s face seemed to confirm that was the case.

Since the giant man was occupied with Robin, you looked around behind you to see if there was anything you might be able to grab to defend yourself.  Or…  well, that seemed incredibly dangerous.

(But this all was pretty dangerous already, wasn’t it?  What’s a little more?)

There was a shattered piece of concrete a few feet away.  A piece of rebar from inside it had broken off.  You grabbed it, and there was the man’s back, turned towards you.  Well, shoot your shot.

You swung the stick right into the man’s groin, and, WOW, that man screamed.  The metal bat clattered to the ground.  Robin did some super fast jabs, and the guy collapsed.

“Oh my god,” you whispered.  “I can’t believe I just did that.”

“I’m very grateful you did,” Robin said, “But I should go rescue other people.”

“Yeah, no—I mean, no, or when—you—that’s probably—uh, yes,” you struggled to get out.  You cleared your throat and tried again.  “Um, yes.  You should.”

(Not that it really mattered, but GOODNESS, could your brain work for this once?  So you don’t sound like an inarticulate rebar-wielding madwoman?  Particularly in front of a very cool superhero?  PLEASE!)

Robin smiled at you throughout your efforts to agree with him, taking his grapple gun out again.

“Wait,” you said, taking his hand once more, “I just—thank you.”

He gave your hand a friendly squeeze.  “Of course.  Thank you.”  Then he let go and grappled off, waving to you as he re-entered the cloud of dust and vanished from your sight.

You felt a little star struck after all that, but you turned away from the cloud and started to walk home.  Life goes on.

✹ ✹

It had been a week since the dinner, and you hadn’t spoken to Tim.  He dropped you home after you finished eating, and you desperately wanted to ask him if he would like to go out sometime or if he wanted to get lunch with you again.  Instead, you said “Thank you” as the two of you exchanged very intense eye contact.  You didn’t see Tim at work, either, which was to be expected…  Different floors and all.

(It didn’t stop a part of you from being disappointed.)

You had tried for an hour to go to sleep and failed.  You mind was too awake.  It was a relatively nice evening out, so, at one in the morning, you wrapped a blanket around your shoulders and went up to the roof of the intern housing.  The roof door was always open, and you let out an impressed breath as you took in the view.

Old Gotham was one of the prettiest areas in the whole city.  Wayne Tower, the Clocktower, the city cathedral, the GCPD headquarters… all within your sight.  You pulled the blanket a little tighter.  There was the distant wail of sirens, music from a club a few blocks away, but it still seemed quiet somehow.

(You knew why you were up here.  You knew.  Silly, stupid, and deeply sad.)

You didn’t see anybody, didn’t hear anybody distinctly.

(There was a part of you that thought, maybe, he’d happen to be swinging past your building, that Red Robin would stop as soon as he saw you.  He’d rush up to you and hug you tight.  It would be nice.)

You pulled out your phone.  Opened your messages.  Scrolled for a second to find who you were looking for.  It was worth a try, right?

You This is random but

You If you happen to be near Old Gotham tonight, I’m on my apartment’s rooftop

You I’d say I was stargazing or something but we live in a city, and I’m just staring into space and thinking

You Couldn’t sleep

You So if you want a break and some company, I’m around

You watched your screen for a second, eager to see if you could see the little “Tim-Drake Wayne is typing…” message to pop up.  It didn’t, not even after two minutes of staring as if you could will it into existence.  You put your phone away and just looked out again.  In many ways, Gotham was an objectively terrible place to live.  Like, you know, your workplace exploding and being kidnapped.  You’d always dreamt of moving away after college.  To another city.  Maybe Metropolis, New York City, Boston—somewhere.  But moments like these, alone on a Gotham rooftop with the city’s lights all around you, made you want to stay.  It was home, after all.

“Can I join in the art of staring into space?” a voice said from behind you.  You turned around and couldn’t help the huge grin that spread across your face at the sight of Tim.

“Oh, certainly!” you said.  Tim sat down next to you, removing his mask.  He looked tired, weary.

“Long night?” you asked.

“Yup.  Two burglaries, a mugging, and a bomb defusal.  All in an evening’s work,” Tim said, rubbing his eyes.  “You texted at the right time.  I needed a break.”

“Are most nights like this?”

“No.  Well, I don’t always patrol.  Sometimes I sit in the cave and work on a case, or I go out but just look for evidence.  That’s usually a little less hectic.  But when I’m out stopping crime normally, today is pretty par for the course.”

“When do you sleep?” you asked, and you raised your eyebrows as he started to chuckle.

“Sleep is…  not a thing I do with much regularity.  I try to get four hours in between patrol and waking up.  Sometimes, if I’m really exhausted, I take a nap later in the day.  It depends.”

“That’s deeply concerning,” you said in response, and Tim shrugged.

“Yeah, I know.  It’s on my to do list.  ‘Get a normal sleep schedule.’”

“‘Save Gotham (ongoing),’ ‘Get a normal sleep schedule,’ ‘Run a multi-billion dollar corporation…’ What don’t you do, Tim?” you said with a smile.  “My to do list is currently ‘My laundry’ and ‘Intern stuff.’”

“There is one thing I meant to do that I haven’t,” Tim replied.  You waited for about ten seconds, and he didn’t elaborate.  Um.  Weird.

“Uh, what would that be?” you prompted.  Tim looked… nervous?  He was looking at you, and something in his gaze made the whole situation feel a little less goofy and a little more intimate.

“‘Kiss _____,’” he finally said.  “That was the last thing.”

You smiled, and then you leaned in and kissed him.  At first, you just gave him a quick kiss, pulling back to see his slightly surprised but delighted face.  Then, he pulled you closer to him and you kissed again.  And again.  And again.  You ran your fingers through his hair, and his hands traveled down your back to your waist.  You were acutely aware of just how strong this boy was when your hands danced across his chest.  He was wearing this armored suit and still.  Like, damn.  You could feel that muscle.  The boy was as kind as he was smart as he was ripped, and he was making out with you.

(This was even better than your fantasies.  Real life is better.  Who knew?)

You weren’t sure how long the two of you sat there, letting out what could only be described as an enormous amount of romantic tension, but eventually, you stopped making out.  You just leaned your head on Tim’s shoulder as he wrapped your blanket around him as well.

If you looked closely, you could see the sixth floor of Wayne Tower across the street, where you’d stumbled upon an unconscious Red Robin about two weeks ago.  That day had ended with you both covered in dirt and blood leaning against each other.  With the stars above and blanket around you both, you had to say you preferred this current arrangement.

“Hey, Tim.”

“Hey, _____.”

“I really, really like you.”

“I really, really like you too.”

✹ ✹

bzfd.it/TimWayneGF-proof-twitter PROOF!  Tim Wayne IS Going Out With That Intern, And She Pulls No Punches

Despite repeated denials of a relationship, Tim Drake-Wayne, adopted son of Bruce Wayne and the crush of many young Gothamites, is definitely going out with Wayne Enterprises intern, _____ ______.  In an amusing tweet, ______ confirmed their relationship.

_______ @_______ me: should I say something about the #timistaken now that we’re actually going out tim: why me: because I’ve had so many things I wanted to tweet that involve you but couldn’t bc we weren’t public tim: sure I guess tim: wait what are you going to tweet 4:29 PM  •  7/26/__ 5K Retweets    20.2K Likes

But that’s old news now.  What’s fun to watch is her interactions with Drake-Wayne on Twitter.  Let’s just say she’s enjoying her newfound public presence.

_______ @_______ guys @timdrakewayne keeps a skateboard in his office at wayne enterprises and has used it to get across the street to get lunch four times this week 5:31 PM  •  7/29/__ 7.1K Retweets    30.2K Likes        __________ @_______        Replying to @_______ the cafe we eat lunch at is 180 feet away from wayne tower. he uses. the skateboard. EVERY   👏 SINGLE 👏 TIME 👏  5:31 PM  •  7/29/__ 896 Retweets    10.2K Likes

_______ @_______ me, frantically googling this morning: “should I be worried or endeared when my boyfriend texts me the title of a book he thinks I’ll like at 3:06 am” 8:02 PM  •  8/3/__ 1.1K Retweets    10.6K Likes        __________ @_______        Replying to @_______ Both?  Both.  Both is good. 8:02 AM  •  8/3/__ 302 Retweets    3.3K Likes

Tim Drake-Wayne @timdrakewayne I feel like twitter was a kinder place for me before my girlfriend started exposing me on main 11:03 AM  •  8/5/__ 5.1K Retweets    32.6K Likes        __________ @_______        Replying to @timdrakewayne  @ me next time 11:15 AM  •  8/5/__ 6.1K Retweets    15.8K Likes        __________ @_______        Replying to @timdrakewayne  also 11:15 AM  •  8/5/__ 321 Retweets    5.2K Likes        __________ @_______        Replying to @timdrakewayne  I love you 11:15 AM  •  8/5/__ 7.5K Retweets    16.8K Likes

They’ve got a great dynamic.  The couple was spotted seeing the new Star Wars movie together last weekend, which gives this last Tweet quote tweeting _____’s reply of “I love you” an extra special meaning...

Tim Drake-Wayne @timdrakewayne  I know @_______ 

__________ @_______ I love you

11:21 AM  •  8/5/__ 3.4K Retweets    11.6K Likes

You chuckled at the article Emily had sent you.  Buzzfeed was actually amusing for once.  You had no idea how they wrote that article so fast.  It was noon!  The last tweets were from a half hour ago.  Had to hand it to them for immediacy.  You slurped the last noodle of your lunch.  You were eating your at your desk today, some leftover pasta from the spaghetti dinner you’d cooked up for yourself yesterday.  No lunch with Tim today, you were both too busy.  Still, the banter on Twitter had more than made up for it.

Putting away your tupperware in your bag, you checked your phone before finishing your lunch break.  You tapped the home button to see your alerts and smiled softly.

(Oh, how much you loved this boy.)

MESSAGES                11:22 AM Tim Drake-Wayne: I don’t know if you’ve seen my tweet

MESSAGES                11:22 AM Tim Drake-Wayne: but that was a jest because in all seriousness

MESSAGES                11:23 AM Tim Drake-Wayne: I love you

(THAT’S IT!  The end.  This is so long.  I can’t thank you all enough for sticking with this fic, for all the support and lovely messages...!!  I hope you’ve enjoyed this.  If in the future you’d like to see more of my fics, feel free to follow me or maybe if you’d like to be on a general tag list for Tim fics of mine, reply or dm and I can do that too???  I’m new to reader inserts on here but people do seem to do that.  I have an idea for a fic about Tim and a reader who becomes a vigilante… one that involves time travel shenanigans… and some Jason fics too…  ANYWAY!!  I RAMBLE!!  Worse than the reader in this fic’s own thoughts.  Thank you so, SO much for reading!  All my love to you guys ♡ )