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quidfree · 3 years

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prompts,.,, fem tdbk and a date gone very wrong ? ❤️

ohhhh my god anon. pump this shit directly into my veins i love this whole premise let’s go. also all inspired by whatever the fuck horikoshi was doing in this

just so everyone is on the same page here, it is not a fucking date.

it’s lunch. a singular lunch. people do that shit all the time. even katsuki does lunch, sometimes. she went to that semi-shitty diner place with kirishima that one time when the food hall was shut because some dumbass first year exploded into goo or whatever. and todoroki does lunch, too- her and deku were on some shitty lunch date like a week ago, as evidenced by deku’s even shittier selfie of them having a grand old time doing whatever the fuck they do alone.

fuck, not a shitty lunch date. a shitty lunch. whatever.

the point is lunch is a normal non-date thing people do, and the fact katsuki and todoroki are maybe not the usual suspects for it is just circumstantial. it’s not like they planned it ahead of time, or made some big thing about it. they literally arranged for it in public, so obviously todoroki didn’t think there was anything weird about it. and there isn’t! they’re both going to be in tokyo on the same day, and todoroki’s always happy for any excuse to spend less time with her old man, and katsuki sure as fuck wouldn’t turn down an opportunity to avoid her hag of a birth-giver for a few blissful hours, so when todoroki had very nonchalantly gone ‘oh, bakugou, we could do lunch then”, it wasn’t like she had any real reason to tell her to go fuck herself. like, yeah, maybe a year ago, on principle, she would have, but even katsuki can only take so much trauma-bonding before she resigns herself to the reality that she’s stuck with half ‘n half for life, one way or another, and she may as well suck it up and approach civility because said moron is determined to ignore her open malice until she plays along anyways. they’re... you know, whatever. friends. or something. jesus.

the point being that it’s not a date, and the fact that she’s getting increasingly annoyed at her limited wardrobe is just because she would have packed more shit if the crone hadn’t insisted that they ‘pack light’ so they could get cheaper train tickets for less luggage. it’s just annoying that she can’t wear anything that’s not screaming holiday.

it occurs to her as she sits and scowls at her suitcase that her mother has been watching her from the doorframe for some undetermined amount of time, which is criminal mainly because she’s a goddamn hero-to-be and getting snuck up on by anyone is a blight upon her good name. she tries to disguise the ego damage dealt by glowering murderously in her progenitor’s direction.

“what the fuck do you want?”

“you know,” the she-devil says, cocking a hip, “if you want to borrow something nicer...”

“i wouldn’t be caught dead in your shitty clothes!” katsuki snarls, which prompts the witch to immediately scowl back.

“watch your damn mouth!”

“watch your waistline! no way in hell are we the same size!”

“why you little-”

the interruption at least reminds her that she is obsessing over her clothes ahead of meeting todoroki for lunch, which is so humiliating it kickstarts her brain again long enough to grab some normal shit and get the hell out of there.

on the walk she checks her phone again. the previous day she’d had to bite the bullet and make the first move, todoroki’s infamously terrible communication skills making themselves known once more, and their ensuing conversation had been so mortifying she’d nearly cancelled all-together.

to: Half ‘n half

Yo asshole are we still meeting tomorrow or what

I’m busy as shit

from: Half ‘n half

Yes. TS

to: Half ‘n half

What the fuck is TS

from: Half ‘n half

I was signing off.

to: Half ‘n half

SIGNING OFF ON YOUR OWN TEXT

YOU THINK I DONT KNOW YOUR DAMN NAME

from: Half ‘n half

[Pin attached]

Does here at 12.30 work for you?

to: Half ‘n half

Yeah whatever

Don’t be late

And don’t think I’m forgetting the fucking signing off thing

from: Half ‘n half

Glad you can make time for mockery in your busy as shit schedule.

the venue looks like some rich person shit, which she semi-expected, but it means a lot of people give her weird looks as she makes her way inside, probably on account of the shorts and t-shirt she’s wearing if not her general vibe. some old woman actually drags her purse to her, which makes katsuki sorely tempted to bare her teeth and maybe hiss for effect, though she settles for scowling and shoving her hands in her pockets. it’s 12.27, because she wasn’t going to be late but being any earlier would have given off some dubious impression that she’s eager to see todoroki, except now she kind of wishes she’d just come for 12.30 because if there’s some reservation bullshit she gets the feeling she’s going to start fighting with the waiting staff, and then-

“bakugou,” todoroki calls, from inside, raising a hand with unnecessary formality. “you made it.”

“course i made it,” katsuki grunts, absolutely not relieved as she by-passes the suspicious looking waiter to join her outside. “think i can’t ride the damn underground by myself?”

todoroki is wearing jeans cuffed at the ankles and a white t-shirt on top of which she’s thrown on an open button-up with the sleeves rolled up, and she looks casual and normal and incidentally kind of like they dressed to match, but the important part is that she doesn’t look dressed up at all, so katsuki was totally right about the non-date situation, and also isn’t the only one totally underdressed for the shitty venue.

“you look nice,” todoroki says then, completely shattering katsuki’s brief moment of reprieve. “i’ve never seen so much color on you.”

katsuki almost chokes on her own tongue, but the worst part is that the asshole seems completely nonchalant about the weird as shit observation, focused on her stool as she takes a seat on the balcony. which- what the actual fuck? since when does todoroki issue compliments unprompted- of the non-professional variety, at that? and what the fuck does she expect katsuki to say now- return the compliment? say thanks? is this whole thing some kind of exercise in psychological torture?

well, fuck it. she can’t look like a little bitch just because todoroki said something inanely positive. two can play that game.

“yeah. you look half decent yourself. did you hire someone to dress you for the occasion?”

todoroki blinks up at her in surprise, which is totally a win and would make her more smug if she could stop feeling so weird and prickly all over. for a dangerous moment todoroki seems on the verge of blushing, but miraculously the world rights itself and the usual deadpan persists, one brow quirking up in completely feigned ineptitude.

“there was a compliment somewhere in there, so thank you, i think. i thought we were past this vendetta.”

“we’ll be past this vendetta the day you burn your piece of shit hero suit,” katsuki retorts, back on familiar ground, and relaxes long enough to squint down at the menu.

this turns out to be a mistake.

“the fuck? is this whole thing in french?”

“oh,” todoroki says, after a beat. “that makes sense. i thought my english had deteriorated.”

“are you- you didn’t know? you recommended the place!”

“it was the nearest place to our hotel,” todoroki defends, now having the decency of looking slightly put out. “coq can’t mean what i think it means, can it?”

“that’s chicken, asshole,” katsuki hisses, flinging the menu down. “great, now we’re going to have to flag down one of the shithead waiters and ask for a japanese menu. excuse me! hey! yeah, i’m talking to- what the hell, did he just blow me off? hey, jackass! you with the shitty mustache!”

“sorry about that,” todoroki interjects, when mustache asshole turns an offended stare their way. “do you have the japanese menu?”

“we only serve the food in its authentic form,” mustachioed asshole says, with frigid self-satisfaction. “might i suggest google translate?”

“might i suggest my foot up your ass, you shitty-”

“that’s fine,” todoroki says, in a flat tone that implies otherwise. “we’ll make do.”

the waiter sniffs pretentiously as katsuki thinks about all the ways she could beat his ass into next tuesday, running an aggravated hand through her hair when the wind rustles it into her face. she’d half expect todoroki to suggest they fuck off elsewhere, but when she looks back her way she finds an ill-boding gleam of determination in her eyes despite the impassive set to her face, and it’s a testament to how fucked in the head ua has made katsuki that she feels a sort of sick thrill of recognition at the sight. todoroki’s in stubborn bitch mode.

“i’ll have this,” todoroki says, sure enough, pointing to the most expensive item on the menu. “and also this. and one of those.”

the waiter’s eyes nearly pop out of his skull, and todoroki looks unfazed in katsuki’s direction, tapping pointedly at a sleek black and red credit card in her wallet. “bakugou?”

well, if endeavour’s paying....

“sure,” katsuki says, slowly, and then turns her meanest smile the waiter’s way. “i want the frog legs.”

mustache clears his throat, attempts condescension. “we don’t serve that here.”

“you’re a gastronomique restaurant,” katsuki says very loudly, as other clients turn to stare, “and you don’t have fucking frog legs? is this a joke? does this napkin say authentic french cuisine or am i hallucinating?”

“i can ask the chef,” the waiter demurs, casting a nervous glance at the muttering snobs nearby, and attempts an ingratiating smile. “anything else for you, mademoiselle?”

“what did you just call me?”

once the ordering debacle is over, todoroki slants katsuki what may well be an apologetic glance, vaguely contrite frown sitting pretty atop her usual dead-eyed stare.

“i probably should have read up on the place ahead of time.”

katsuki is well within her rights to chew her head off, she thinks, but food’s on the way and she got to yell at the asshole who gave her the once-over when she came in, so she’s feeling forgiving, even in the face of todoroki’s annoyingly doll-faced apology. the bitch really has to do the bare minimum and she looks like a fucking kpop idol.

“yeah, whatever. i always knew you were a shitty ops planner.”

todoroki, who is an asshole, looks relieved at her generous forgiveness for all of a second before she quirks a brow. “between the two of us, i only count one person who has actually spoken the words ‘shoot first, ask questions later’.”

“that was in a training simulation,” katsuki protests, outraged. “and you know damn well the actors were annoying as shit!”

“i did find them slightly too committed to the role,” todoroki concedes neutrally, which totally means she agrees with katsuki 100% and is being precious about it. katsuki scoffs.

“least the view’s decent.”

“the-“ todoroki starts, in weirdly confused tones, until she follows katsuki’s gaze outward and nods in understanding. “oh, the skyline. yes.”

what else katsuki could have meant she doesn’t fucking know: they’re sitting pretty in the middle of tokyo. the only thing the hellhole of a restaurant has going for it at this point is the cityscape.

todoroki stares out into the distance for a good long moment, and with the breeze her negligently loose hair whips this way and that, red and white blur where the two halves mingle. instinctively katsuki itches to braid it flat so it doesn’t tangle. if todoroki asked her she’d tell her to just cut her damn hair into a bob or something- it’s not like icyhot has any attachment to her princess hair, and she’s got the obnoxious bone structure to pull off any length. not that she’d mention this last part. or that she’s given it much thought. it’s just fucking obvious.

if todoroki could keep her mouth shut throughout the rest of the meal, it could be sort of nice. tokyo skyline, and companionable silence, and presumably edible food. worse ways to kill some time, and way less incriminating than anything that may be said otherwise.

“i think this is the part where we make small talk,” todoroki says instead, sadist that she definitely is, as katsuki grimaces feelingly her way.

“no, we don’t.”

“well, we don’t. but this is the part where we should.”

“i don’t even believe you can last a minute of small talk, icyhot.”

todoroki looks pensive, mismatched eyes thoughtful. “...how has your day been?”

“uneventful,” katsuki says, combative, and eyes her watch. todoroki does not give.

“this place seems nice.”

“you don’t even think that.”

“how have you been finding tokyo?”

“noisy.”

“the weather seems-”

“no.”

“you look nice.”

“you said that already, dumbass,” katsuki grunts, palms crackling with sweat, and does not at all read into the way todoroki makes a stupid little movement with her mouth that could ungenerously be interpreted as a pout.

“well, i meant it, so i’m saying it twice.”

“give it up, half ‘n half, just ask me about training.”

“...how is your training?”

“i did this thing yesterday,” katsuki starts, leaning back in her chair, and from then launches into a very technical and barely exaggerated retelling of the batshit insane stunt she pulled off with her quirk the day prior. todoroki’s focused attention is gratifying, in a totally platonic non-weird way- it’s just that her parents couldn’t very well follow why exactly said stunt was as insane as it is, but todoroki obviously can, and also there’s that thing with todoroki where pulling a reaction out of her ice queen act is admittedly more satisfying than most people. it has jack shit to do with the fact katsuki’s got a very minor complex about todoroki paying her her dues, and even if it did then that’s entirely fucking reasonable considering she still hasn’t forgiven her for the sports fest incident.

it is a little weird having todoroki’s sole focus on her outside of hero shit, though. it’s not like they really hang out one on one outside of school or work. it’s kind of- unnerving. yeah. unnerving, to be making prolonged eye contact, todoroki’s expression intent but not intense the way she gets in fight scenarios, frowning lightly because she has resting bitch face but apparently genuinely interested. it’s kind of a relief that todoroki asks questions- moves them safely into a conversation, so katsuki’s not just sitting there talking and sort of dry-throated. fucking waiter, leaving them water-less.

it’s fine. they talk about training, and quirks, and then todoroki pushes her hair behind her ears and leans forward to demonstrate on a small scale this thing she’s trying to do where she melts her ice and refreezes it in rapid succession so it causes what is essentially ice rain, but there’s logistics and shit that need to be worked out for it to work the way she’s thinking it might, and katsuki knows her thermal shit so they start scrawling maths over the napkins, and then bicker over the finer points of first year chemistry, so when the food actually arrives to interrupt them todoroki’s startled blink is weirdly relatable, like she also forgot where they were.

the waiter’s there and gone before they’re really recovered from the brief misplacement, which katsuki registers only when she looks down at her empty glass.

“goddamnit- how hard is it to bring us water?”

“they only offer sparkling,” todoroki says, gravely, then outpaces katsuki’s disgust by placing her hand over her glass, ice rising before she switches hands and melts it down. “tell me if the temperature’s off.”

intensely mollified and trying not to look it, katsuki sips it. “’s fine.”

“okay,” todoroki says, faintly pleased, and tilts her head to look down at her food. “i have no idea what any of this is.”

“moron,” katsuki snorts, except it comes out way fonder than it has any rights to, and from beneath the convenient curtain of hair todoroki’s smiling a little, so she hastily stabs a frog leg and gets to eating before anyone gets any ideas.

the actual meal goes okay-ish. most of the stuff todoroki ordered is extremely pretentious french cuisine, and todoroki secretly has the culinary adventurousness of a five year old, so it befalls katsuki to impatiently attempt every dish and pronounce it edible before todoroki will deign to brave it. she’s still trying to bully an unyielding todoroki into attempting the weird bird soup thing when there’s commotion nearby. it takes the both of them approximately three seconds to spring into work-mode; katsuki’s on her feet poised for a fight before she’s even consciously thought about it, scanning her peripherals, and she doesn’t even need to look to feel todoroki unconsciously covering her back, cool sting of air signalling her quirk at the ready.

the commotion turns out just to be some old dumbass choking, relaxing them both out of their stances as she falls back to let todoroki ahead. they’re both uber-qualified for first aid shit, but she’s self-aware enough to know even todoroki’s bland reassurances are usually preferred to her bedside manner. unfortunately, the whole entourage seems to be braindead, because they’re all crowding the old guy in a panic while he chokes, his wife in shrieking hysterics.

“oh, my god, he’s choking! he’s choking! sugar-plum, stay with me!”

“fuck me,” katsuki mutters, unethically thinking that she would personally prefer choking to being married to someone who calls her sugar-plum, but todoroki’s pushing ahead with implacable calm, so she trudges after her anyways.

“excuse me. excuse me. i need access to your husband.”

“who are you? don’t touch him! help! get this woman off my husband!” wailing hysteric yells, bosom heaving dramatically. katsuki is starting to suspect she poisoned him on purpose or some shit, because no way does anyone talk like that in real life.

“she’s a fucking qualified first aid provider, lady, shut up and let her through!”

thankfully, the woman seems on the verge of an outrage aneurysm, which drags her focus away from suffocating her choking husband to dramatically pointing at katsuki long enough for todoroki to duck past her and reach the guy as he turns purple.

“how dare you speak to me that way? who do you think you are?”

“ma,” chinless moron number one says, clearing his throat. “i think that’s one of those future pros from TV.”

“what?”

“you know, ma,” chinless moron number two adds, glancing nervously between them. “the one that explodes things. you know. from UA.”

katsuki takes great pleasure in watching recognition dawn in the old cow’s beady eyes, but in any event there’s a hacking noise and then the old man’s coughing out a bone into his plate as todoroki steps noiselessly back from the table.

“he’s fine now. enjoy your dinner.”

“god, that was gross,” katsuki says, as they ignore the woman’s sputtering and return to their seats. todoroki tilts her head.

“not really. if he’d thrown up it would have been.”

“not the choking guy,” katsuki scoffs, casting a glance back his way. “his wife. talk about theatrics.”

“she seemed more afraid of us than her husband dying.”

“for good reason,” katsuki mutters darkly, spreading out in her chair. “i hate civilians.”

“i don’t think she recognised us,” todoroki counters, pensive, and absent-mindedly takes a bite of the weird soup before she screws her face up like a betrayed kid. “oh. you didn’t say it was sweet.”

the look on her face thoroughly distracts katsuki from asking what other reason the pearl-clutcher could possibly have to be so terrified at the mere sight of them; instead, she chokes back a laugh, stifling a grin. “what are you, five?”

“i don’t think i like this,” todoroki says, mournful, which makes katsuki grin harder. she can’t help it- todoroki looking stupid is her kryptonite.

“then don’t pick a restaurant where you can’t read the menu, next time.”

todoroki’s midway to looking up, but for some reason her expression transforms instantaneously, which makes katsuki reflexively try to quash her amusement. todoroki always gets weird when she’s smiling.

“next time?”

motherfuck. obviously she didn’t mean next time like next time, she meant next time like- hypothetically, in the future, when todoroki’s on a lunch date with someone else. a lunch non-date. she’s just about stopped sputtering furiously long enough to try and express this sentiment when it occurs to her that todoroki seems- pleased, one eye soft sky-blue when katsuki accidentally meets it, and that draws her up short long enough that she ends up just muttering lamely to herself. fucking todoroki.

on the heels of this utter embarrassment, she downs the rest of her water, scowls in a neat 180 at everything in sight, and wonders for the first time in her life how the fuck extras get through dates. not that this is one.

it’s fine. they’re done eating, and no one’s died, and katsuki is no longer fifteen and thus mostly trusts her ego to lick its wounds and recover from the ordeal. even if they stick around for desert that’s only another half hour of this to endure. as long as todoroki doesn’t make any sudden moves they’ll be fine.

...the problem is, of course, that sudden moves are todoroki’s modus operandi. katsuki has not forgotten the bitch calling them friends on national television in the same breath that she was vociferously denying them being anything of the sort. in todoroki’s fucked up brain, they’re always ten steps ahead of whatever they actually are- considering katsuki’s come around to privately acknowledging she’d take a couple more stakes through the gut for the asshole, in todoroki’s world they're practically hitched.

platonically. platonically practically hitched. this is not a thing, goddamnit. no matter the weird looks aizawa’s been giving them, or utsushimi’s nefarious schemes, or the alarming cardiopulmonary condition katsuki’s been developing of late. she’s not some shitty yuri protagonist pining over the nearest female bishōnen in her vicinity.

admittedly if she was to pine over anyone it sure as fuck wouldn’t be some guy, but that’s besides the point, since pretty damn near every person on earth is just some guy by her standards, regardless of gender. the fact that todoroki is not one of said people is entirely irrelevant.

her internal irritation is so distracting that she misses the tremors nearby until entirely too late, by which point todoroki’s stupidly perfect brows raise an incremental fraction and she goes: ‘oh’.

when todoroki goes ‘oh’, some shit is about to go down.

katsuki turns slowly with an impending sense of doom, and sure enough, the sight that greets her is so nightmarish she seriously reconsiders whether the entire day has been just that.

“don’t freak out,” a giant building-sized deku booms, apologetically, as his hideous giant face stares at them. “it’s just a quirk thing.”

it’s probably a good thing katsuki has gone speechless with outrage, since it permits todoroki’s constantly composed ass to ask useful questions katsuki probably would have coated in a fair amount more threats and cursing.

“midoriya. i didn’t know you were in tokyo.”

“well, i wasn’t meant to be,” deku says/booms like a foghorn, as the restaurant clientele shrieks and stampedes behind them. his sheepish expression is even more punchable when magnified. “it’s a long story. it’s almost sorted out now, though. i just saw you guys from over at the NPA office and thought i’d come ask if you maybe wouldn’t mind lending a hand? i wouldn’t ask but there’s going to be a lot of cleanup and your quirks would be really helpful to-”

“we’ll do it as long as you shut the fuck up,” katsuki yells, to cut him off, massaging her temples. “the monologuing’s bad enough when you’re not about to burst my fucking eardrums, jackass.”

“oh, sorry! i’m trying to be very quiet but this body’s just hard to get used to- thank you so much for helping, i didn’t mean to come bother you on break...”

“it’s fine,” todoroki says, and then seems to realise that her monotone doesn’t reach midoriya’s giant-ass ears and clears her throat, raising her voice to a shout. “it’s fine. let me go deal with the bill and then we’ll go.”

“sorry?” midoriya whisper-shouts, craning his monstrous head closer to them, the sight of which will haunt katsuki for the rest of her life. “i can’t hear what you’re saying!”

“she said she’s going to go pay for our nice fucking lunch,” katsuki hollers, with no small sense of satisfaction, as deku winces and todoroki slinks off. “since you want to come crashing it like a dipshit.”

“sorry, kacchan!” deku begs off, flapping hand gestures creating enough wind to knock over a nearby umbrella stand. “i just thought it would be a lot of help if you came to oversee the fall-out- especially with the building damage-”

“we’re good,” todoroki announces, to katsuki, apparently having given up on matching her in decibels. she’s got that classic hero look on her face, already in work mode, but just when katsuki’s about to do the same and jump into action, the look wavers a little and she frowns vaguely awkwardly. “thanks for doing lunch.”

“huh?” katsuki stutters, thrown, and then scowls at nothing in particular, stalling. todoroki’s the one who paid, albeit indirectly- it’s typically weird of her to be all formal about it all of a sudden, leaving katsuki to attempt to wriggle them out of the awkwardness of the moment. “i didn’t do shit except show up and eat, weirdo.”

“it’s been abnormally hard to show up and eat in the circumstances,” todoroki replies, a little wryly, and more concerningly a little resigned sounding. which is just unnatural, because todoroki may have expanded her range of emotions considerably since first year but resignation is not on her usual roster, and there’s nothing to be resigned about unless she had some kind of vested interest in this whole fiasco playing out any better than it did.

which she didn’t, obviously. katsuki’s been through this. she chose the nearest possible venue and rocked up in jeans and a t-shirt, and- and why is the fact that todoroki never dresses so normally out of class only now occurring to her, again?

she’d said ‘i think this is the part where we do small talk’. the part of what?

“yeah, whatever,” katsuki says, automatically, as her brain plays catch-up, which is the excuse she will forever stick to for what leaves her mouth next. “should have known you’d be a lousy date.”

todoroki goes ‘what?’ at the same moment deku does, ten times louder and more bug-eyed, which reminds katsuki that 1) deku is still there, 2) deku is still as big as his martyr complex, and 3) deku is the fucking worst, and allowing him to trap her into friendship is somehow responsible for this, she’s sure of it.

“can we go handle this fucking mess or what?” katsuki snaps, instead of screaming or breaking deku’s very large nose or maybe self-immolating in abject humiliation, hands erupting into explosions as she jumps onto the balcony railing. maybe if she throws herself headfirst into the debris she’ll concuss herself and turn amnesiac.

“um,” deku is saying, when she turns a withering glare his way. “um, yes! yes! yeah! let’s go do that!”

so she jumps skywards, explosions blasting her high into the air, and very scrupulously does not look towards the sounds of slick ice forming just behind her until todoroki skates into her peripheral vision, hair waving flag-like behind her. ahead there’s a building with a crater clean through it where deku must have erupted from, though when she turns to comment she finds him a fair deal behind them, lumbering pace slowed further as he avoids stepping on anyone or anything along the streets. instead her eyes lock on todoroki’s where the latter is staring at her, face unreadable, and she bristles hard enough to disrupt trajectory, correcting course rapidly before she plummets into an office.

“what?”

“i’m a lousy date,” todoroki repeats, neutrally, over the wind. katsuki grits her teeth.

“and what about it?”

she’s bracing for a lot, but not the horrible, sickening eye-crinkle thing todoroki does, dark eye twinkling even as her expression stays carefully impassive. “you think you can do better, then?”

“hah?”

“next time,” todoroki intones, very precisely, and then dips ahead like a complete coward as katsuki goes a color never previously visible to the human eye, sifting through about fifteen emotions before she decides to stick to outrage.

“what the hell? you suck at asking people out, icyhot!”

“you don’t have to say yes.”

“what, you think i can’t do better than this mess? you’re on, asshole.”

“i look forward to it,” todoroki says, gravely, and then there’s a collapsed building to handle and shit to do and if anyone wants to ask why katsuki is so especially gleeful in blowing shit up they wisely keep their mouths shut. she just likes the job, all right.

(for the record, it’s still not a date until katsuki says it is.)

#qui repond #qui ecrit #anon #prompts #tdbk #todobaku #fem todobaku #fem todo #fem baku

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wiypt-writes · 4 years

Text

Stark Spangled Banner

Ch 12: Fairy Tale Of New York

Part 1- Gram Mo Chroi

Summary: In the run up to the Festive Period, Katie presents the Publishing Company proposal to the Stark Industries board, and our favourite couple spend their first Christmas together in New York. New Year’s Eve is welcomed in with a bang at a Stark Industries Gala and Steve’s simply happy he has his girl by his side…even when there’s a little mishap in The Elevator

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

Warnings: SMUT (NSFW!) So over 18s only please. And some teeth rotting fluff… and LANGUAGE

A/N: Once again thanks to @angrybirdcr for her GORGEOUS edit

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Chapter 11

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

December 2013

Steve loved his girl. He would die for her if he had to, without a second thought. But the one thing he dreaded above everything was the thought of shopping, not least as it was the middle of December. Frankly, when she was shopping for herself Katie was a nightmare. Not on purpose, she was just so indecisive about whatever she was looking for, insisting that things made her look too wide hipped, short, big assed, big chested (which he’d told her cheekily wasn’t the clothes fault she had good assets which had earned him a slap around the back of the head). It was ridiculous, she was ridiculous, and he had no idea why she was so insecure as frankly she was gorgeous and would stop a room if she walked in wearing a sack.

“You don’t need to come!” She chuckled at him, shoving on her jacket. “I know I’m a pain in the ass and it’ll take me ages, plus it will be busy as it’s nearly Christmas.” “You sure?”

“Yeah.” She smiled, dropping her arms round his shoulders from behind the sofa, her hands coming to rest on his chest. “I just need a break from that damned proposal and to be honest, I only make you come so you can carry my bags.” “Nice to see I have my uses” He snorted sarcastically, rolling his head round so he could catch her lips.

“Well it makes me feel special.” She shrugged as she straightened up.

And damned it, after she’d said that, how could he not go?

“You know what, its fine. I’ll come. Give me a second.” He gave a slight sigh or resignation, and when he glanced at her he noticed her turn around with a smirk on her face and he knew then he’d been played, well and truly.

“You’re so full of shit.” He shook his head as she laughed whilst he went to retrieve his boots.

Two hours later he was beginning to regret his utter lack of ability to resist her charms. She was still flapping about her New Year’s Eve outfit for the Stark Industries Ball, worse than she normally did Steve noted. Six dresses she had tried on. Six, and she hated every one. Deciding enough was enough, instead of letting her walk into the next shop he’d tugged her hand, his strength easily keeping her from following her intended path and pulled her up the escalator to the fancy, pretentious champagne bar that was placed on the floor overlooking the lower floors of the City Centre mall.

“Why can’t I find anything that looks good?” She muttered as he slid a glass of Bollinger over to her, handing his card to the bar tender.

“Katie, stop it.” He looked at her where she was perched next to him at the bar. “All of them looked great.” “You’d say that no matter what.” She looked at him, and she couldn’t help but smile at the affection on his face.

“Because it’s true.” He smirked taking a pull of his beer “But if you want my opinion the red one was my favourite.” And it was. It was a scarlet colour, straight cut satin number, which clung to every delectable curve of her body, flashing a peep of leg through the thigh high split on the right hand side, not to mention the neckline and back. It was a halter-neck with a cowl at the front giving a subtle flash of cleavage and left her upper back was bare. It was demure enough to keep most of what was underneath it to the imagination, yet also flashed enough skin to make him feel slightly warm every time he looked at her. When he’d seen her walk out of the changing room it, it had almost made his mouth water, and it had definitely made his trousers feel tighter

“The Galliano one?”

“If that was the red one then yeah.” He laughed. “Come on, Doll, like I’m gonna know that!”

She grinned as he looked up and thanked the bar tender, signing his name on the check with a flourish. He didn’t even look at how ludicrously expensive the champagne and his fancy European lager was. He didn’t care, he earned enough from SHIELD to treat his girl every once in a while. In fact, as he watched her lost in thoughts, he decided then he wanted to buy her the dress too.

“Let me buy it for you.” He said softly.

“What?” She frowned “Don’t be stupid, not like I can’t afford it.” “That isn’t the point.” He sighed, rolling his eyes at her stubbornness. “I’d like to.” She eyed him for a moment before she smiled and reached out to gently brush his cheek with her hand “Okay. Thank you.” Well that had been easier than he had anticipated. Normally she argued like hell about paying for things, be it takeout, food, meals, dates. Instead, she leaned over to give him a soft peck on the lips and he smiled back. But then another frown creased her brow and she was back to brooding again.

“Sweetheart, what is it?” He asked, his hand landing on her knee.

Katie looked up at him, before she sighed. “I’m nervous.” “About the pitch?”

She nodded. And she was. She had been working on the Presentation and Business Plan for the Publishers since Thanksgiving. The Business Plan had been submitted to the board two days ago, and she was due to give the Presentation tomorrow morning. She had hoped that shopping for a new power suit and a dress for New Year’s would distract her for a few hours. It hadn’t.

“Doll, you’ve been working on it for weeks. Pepper says it’s great, even Tony didn’t find anything to pick holes in.”

“I just, well I want everyone to vote on it because it’s a good idea, not just because of who I am, you know?” “And they will. Honestly, you’re over thinking and over worrying. You’re going to smash it.”

He watched as a small smile tugged at her lips “You and your sudden obsession with street lingo.”

“What?” He frowned, mock annoyance on his face “Can’t Captain America be down with the kids?” “Okay, I never want to hear you say that, ever again.” she chuckled and he grinned. “Oh, but speaking of Kids…are you gonna make the Foundation Party?”

Steve took a deep breath. The Stark Foundation apparently hosted a yearly Christmas Party at the tower for local children who were either ill or in the care system. Last year’s hadn’t gone ahead on account of Tony’s near mental breakdown-slash-terrorist problem but this year they were full steam ahead. Tony would be there in his Iron Man get up, Katie as well (she loved everything about the party) and she’d asked Steve if he would mind coming along. And he didn’t mind per-se, it was just the idea of 50 kids running around that invited utter chaos.

“I’m gonna try, Sweetheart. As long as there’s no missions that go off I’ll be there.”

“Well don’t worry if you can’t” she said, smiling “We’re not telling the kids you are anyway, so if you turn up it will be like Santa himself has arrived. Only in a different suit. And with a shield not a sack.”

Steve let out a chortle before he dropped a kiss to her head “Ok Cinderella, let’s go get your dress then we can go home, eat junk and watch trash.”

“You know how to spoil a lady.” Katie smirked, and Steve flashed her a grin, not least because he knew it was her favourite thing to do in the world.

***** Katie took a deep breath as she sat in Pepper’s office. She’d landed in New York little over an hour ago and was now nervous as hell. Really nervous. Steve had assured her she would be fine as he had dropped her at the airfield to catch the jet over. He had assured her she would be fine when he kissed her goodbye. He had assured her she would be fine when she landed and received his text message. And all that amounted to was the fact she now thought Steve was an optimistic fool because she was not fine. She was shitting herself.

“You ready?” Pepper asked as she walked into her office, effortlessly business-like but graceful as always.

“No.” Katie said honestly, looking up from where she had been sat reading over her cue cards again.

“Well, we’re about to start.” she smiled “I put you on first so you can concentrate on the rest of the board meeting once you’ve pitched.” Katie nodded and stood up, smoothing down her pencil skirt. “Ok, let’s get it over with.” She followed Pepper down to the Boardroom and stepped inside where one of the Interns was setting up the screen to the right. She smiled at the other members of the Board, all who she knew by name and took a seat to the right of Tony who held the head of the table, Pepper sitting opposite her to his left.

“You got this Kiddo.” Tony leaned over to whisper in her ear before he sat up “Alright Ladies and Gents, the last Board meeting of 2013…”

Katie listened as Tony spoke and then Pepper outlined the agenda and then way too fast she was being invited to speak. She stood up, cleared her throat, looked at the Presentation, to her cards and then froze before she smiled gently.

“You know what…” She said, looking round “I had a huge, posh presentation prepared but I know you’ve read all the statistics and the numbers” she took a deep breath and tossed her cue cards down on the table “So I’m gonna speak from my heart and share my vision…or in Tony’s words, I’m winging it….” Tony leaned back in his chair and watched as his sister held the room, occasionally glancing at Pepper who was smiling proudly. Katie spoke articulately, clearly but most of all passionately. He could tell that most of the board members were with her, the only one that was going to be an ass-hat about it was Jeremy Saul, their Finance Director. He had been the only one that had questioned the viability of Katie’s desire to go for un-published, un-known authors. Her proposal and vision wasn’t about making as much profit as possible, it was about encouraging talent.

“I just have one question…” Jeremy leaned back in his chair and Tony sat up, stroking his beard as he looked at the man who was staring up at his sister. Katie turned her gaze to him.

“By all means, please Mr Saul.”

Arse-Saul more like… “I’ve read the business plan. You don’t intend to turn a profit for the first year…” He continued, an annoyingly smug look on his face. “And even after that you don’t seem to be focussed on any kind of margins or return on sales whatsoever.” “That’s correct.” Katie nodded.

“Well, forgive me for asking but what benefit will this bring to Stark Industries from a money perspective?” Katie took a deep breath, and glanced at Tony who had arched his eyebrow. She could tell he was thinking the same thing as her - ‘Dickhead’.

“The same benefit the Stark Relief Fund brings. The same benefit the Stark Foundation brings.” Katie replied, taking a deep breath “I’m not going to lie, my vision isn’t about profiteering. It’s about giving a springboard to those Authors who, like JK Rowling have had every door so far slammed in their faces.” she looked around the room remembering Peppers’ advice- Enthuse, engage, engross. “Granted, in the future it would be nice to have a decent turn over, and I don’t want to run at a loss. I’m a firm believer I can make it breakeven in the first two years as the numbers show, and the remaining three on the five year plan show a return on sales of just over five percent.”

“That isn’t a huge amount.” Saul looked at Katie and she nodded.

“You’re right, it isn’t. But you know as well as I do that Stark Industries turns over a ludicrous amount of money every year so it doesn’t need another section which turns over profits in excess of thirty percent. That isn’t my vision here, and that’s not what setting up Stark Independent Publishing is about.”

Saul nodded and scribbled down something on his note pad and looked to Pepper who was leading the meeting to show he had no more questions.

Katie took a deep breath, thanked everyone for their time and sat down.

“Okay, let’s take a break.” Pepper said, glancing around the room “Grab a coffee, back here in ten minutes for the Contract Status review.” she shot Katie a large smile as she stood up and walked out of the large Oak doors.

“Kiddo.” Tony leaned over as the various board members started to move about and chatter amongst themselves “You crushed it.”

Katie smiled at her brother as he squeezed her shoulder before standing up and shrugging on his jacket.

“Think that calls for a drink…hey, Pepper, can we…”

His voice trailed off as the boardroom door shut, leaving Katie alone. Leaning back in her chair she allowed herself a smile. That hadn’t gone too bad after all.

*****

Steve looked over to where his phone was placed on the bench by the side of the gym for what felt like the one hundredth time since midday. The meeting should be over by now.

“Expecting a call?” Natasha drawled as she sent a right hook his way which he dodged.

“It’s Katie’s pitch today.” He jabbed back with a forearm throw which Natasha easily twirled under. “I thought it would be done by now.” In all honesty he wasn’t nervous. He knew she’d got this, the passion and the detail she’d put into it made it impossible for her not to. He’d told her as much when she’d zipped up that delectable grey pencil skirt over dark black tights and shrugged on a silky black blouse that morning after her shower. He’d told her as much when he’d kissed her goodbye at the air field.

But he still wanted to know she was okay.

“Oh, the Publishing thing?” Nat asked and Steve nodded as they circled on another. “She’s a Stark, what she gotta pitch for?”

“There’s an entire board.” Steve said. “She can’t vote on it as it’s a conflict of interest. So even if Tony votes, it isn’t enough to hold a true majority. She needs them both onside.” “Huh.” Nat said, “No wonder you’re distracted.” “I’m not…” he began but in a swoop Natasha had his legs from under him, knee pressed against his throat, a shit eating grin spread across her face as he rolled his eyes.

“Wanna finish that sentence?” She smirked.

He took a deep breath as she stood up and then his phone began to ring. He effortlessly rolled out of Natasha’s light hold and crossed the room to pick it up.

“Hey, Doll.” he said, smiling. “How did it go?” “Well…” Katie began to talk, and Steve had to strain to hear her voice over the noise in the background, noise that sounded like a bar. “It could have gone worse…” “But it couldn’t have gone much better either Spangles…” Tony added from the back ground “She was fucking amazing.” “Told you.” Steve grinned, giving Natasha the thumbs up.

“Tony’s being premature. We won’t know if they’re going to agree until the end of the year but he insisted we come out for drinks anyway.”

“Pssht” Tony said in the background. “It’s nearly Christmas, can’t I treat my little sister to an afternoon on the Pier…hey, yeah can I get a…”

Steve smiled as the noise started to die down a little, Katie having moved to find a quieter spot.

“So it went well?” “Yeah. Was pointless me spending so much time on my presentation though.” she laughed “I didn’t use it in the end, went for the tried and tested Stark format of winging it.”

Steve let out a chuckle and looked back at Natasha who was watching him, an odd smirk on her face “I’m pleased it went well honey but I gotta go. I gotta finish this sparring session then I have one of those damned videos to film…” “What is it today?” Katie asked, and he could her the grin in her voice as she dropped it to mimick his own “’So, you had your first wet dream?’”

“Punk.” he shot immediately and she let out a laugh.

“Jerk”

****

“Okay, so, we all set?” Tony said, stepping forward and examining his repulsor gauntlets.

“As ready as we’ll ever be.” Katie straightened the Nova Star shaped buckle on her utility belt.

“Let’s just stick to the plan.” Steve looked to Katie on his right, then Tony on his left before focusing on the door in front “One group each. No distractions.”

The siblings nodded and Steve stepped forward, opening the large door. They were instantly hit with a barrage of noise as forty-five kids swamped the three Avengers. But it was a small, olive-skinned, ebony haired girl that reached Katie first, and she bent down beaming.

“Emmy!” Katie pulled the small girl into a hug “Wow, you’ve gotten so big!”

“I’m six now.” Emmy said proudly, flashing a grin. Her front tooth was missing.

“No.” Katie shook her head. “Uh-uh, no way.” “I am.”

“You’re catching me up!”

Emmy let out a giggle and Katie stood up, glancing over at where Tony and Steve were surrounded by little people, all of them bouncing up and down. Emmy, however, hung back slightly as the other children all pushed forward to hug or see Iron Man or Captain America, and she gripped Katie’s leg tighter.

“You okay?” Katie glanced down at the little girl who clung to her leg as she nodded.

“I want to meet Captain America.” She said, shyly. “Everyone says he’s your boyfriend. Is that true?” “It is.” Katie nodded.

“So you kiss him?”

“I do.” Katie grinned as Emmy made a gagging noise. With a chuckle she gently ruffled the girl’s hair. “Come on, I’ll take you to say hi.” Emmy took Katie’s hand and they crossed the room to where the crowd had now dispersed, the kids being shepherded into the various groups for the annual tour round the tower, which was basically one huge big supervised treasure hunt where each of them came back holding the latest games console or tablet depending on their age.

“Captain?” Katie called and Steve frowned, turning round, it had been a while since she had called him that, well outside of the bedroom anyway. As he looked at her, the tell-tale flush spread up her neck into her face and he knew she’d had the same thought. Ignoring the heat in his own cheeks he looked at her and watched as she gently moved her gloved hand to the back of the dark haired girl’s head, as the kid’s hand curled round Katie’s. Her large, brown eyes glanced up at Steve shyly. “There’s someone here that wants to meet you.”

Steve smiled, his head devoid of his helmet, and he crouched down in front of the small girl as Katie did the same, dropping to her level. “Hi.” He greeted her.

“Hi…” She replied softly “My name’s Emily.” “Emily, that’s a real pretty name, little Miss.” Steve smiled at her

“My friends call me Emmy.”

“Can I call you Emmy?” Steve asked.

The small girl seemed to ponder for a second before she looked at Katie then back to Steve “Katie calls me Emmy. And as you’re her boyfriend I suppose that would be okay.” Steve looked at Katie who was biting her lip to stop herself from laughing and he nodded at the small girl, a smile crossing his face “Well how’s about you call me Steve then, but we keep it to ourselves. Only you and the grown-ups can call me that today.”

“Mr Stark calls you Spangles.” Emmy said, frowning.

“Yeah, he said grown-ups.” Katie smiled “Tony is not a grown up.” Emmy let out a giggle “You’re silly, Katie.” “She is.” Steve nodded and Katie stuck out her tongue and crossed her eyes causing the small girl to laugh even harder.

“Emmy!” One of the attendees from the home called and beckoned her over “Come on or you’ll miss the treasure hunt.”

Emmy threw her arms round Steve and he momentarily paused before he gave her a hug before she ran off to join her peers.

“She’s cute…” He watched her go before he looked to Katie as they both stood up.

“Yeah I know you’re not supposed to have favourites but…” Katie sighed “I met her when she was eighteen months old. She’s adorable.” “What’s her story?”

“Her mom died when she was thee months old.” Katie sighed, watching as the kids were organised into a line “There were complications at birth that she never recovered from. Her dad then killed himself a few weeks later. She had no other family who were willing to take her in so she’s been in a home ever since.”

“That’s awful.” Steve frowned.

“Makes me realise just how lucky I was that Tony stepped up and became my guardian after mom and dad died.” Katie glanced at the young girl, the softness in her eyes didn’t go unnoticed by Steve as she spoke again “You know, every year I pray she doesn’t show up here. Not because I don’t want to see her but because it means she’s found a home and a family.”

Steve smiled gently, looping an arm around her shoulders, the pair of them watching as Tony joined the front of one of the three lines the kids had been organised in and was looking at them all waving his hands.

“You want kids?” Katie asked, looking up at Steve. He took a deep breath and blew it out through his nose “Shit, sorry.” she continued, shaking her head and rubbing her temple. “That’s a bit forward, I didn’t mean…” “I know.” Steve shook his head, understanding. “And yeah, I did, before I joined the army. All I wanted was a family, stability, to hold down a good job. Now, well, things went a bit crazy didn’t they?” “Tell me about it.” Katie chuckled.

“What, errr, what about you?” Steve asked, rubbing at his neck a little awkwardly.

“Eventually, maybe.” She shrugged. Steve glanced down at her, a soft look on his face, but he was distracted as Emmy had returned and she was tugging on the dark material of his Uniform trousers.

“Can you be leader of our group?” She looked up at Steve.

“Woah, what about me Emmy?” Katie playfully frowned, her hands on her hips.

Emmy shot her a grin “You were the leader of my group for the last two years…” “Wow.” Katie smiled “You’re replacing me. Fine, I’m not offended. At all.”

Emmy laughed and Steve’s mouth curled upwards before he looked down at Emmy and nodded. “Alright Ma’am.” He saluted, as Emmy laughed and then slipped her hand into his. “Lead the way.” Katie watched them leave, convinced his super hearing would have just picked up the noise of her ovaries exploding.

*****

Forty Five kids came to the tower and forty five left. No one died, and Steve only had to throw his shield once for a demonstration. All in all the Stark Foundation Christmas Party 2013 was a roaring success.

The residents of the tower spent the next few days they had before Christmas lazing around, watching old Christmas films as Katie introduced Steve to her favourite one, ‘The Muppet Christmas Carol’. They decorated a tree in her apartment, headed through the streets of New York in the dark to see all the various Christmas lights, wrapped presents, spent evenings drinking hot chocolate laced with liquor and before they both knew what had happened, it was Christmas Eve and to Katie’s utter delight (and Tony’s it would seem, as JARVIS informed them dryly that Mr Stark was demanding that they go outside to build snowmen) it was snowing again to top up the already substantial covering on the ground.

Steve hated being cold, a consequence of spending seventy years frozen but the childish excitement written all over Katie’s face was enough to make him brave the snow, and so, at half past two in the afternoon he was stood in Central Park, along with Katie, Pepper and Tony, building snowmen-which Steve was amazingly adept at, something that came as a surprise to Pepper and Tony, but not to Katie considering his artistic nature. Bruce called Tony half way through following the conclusion of whatever seminar he had been in and an hour or so later joined them, and was immediately told to judge the snowmen contest. He declared Steve the winner causing Tony and Katie to pelt the mild mannered Scientist with snowballs until his grown up façade slipped and he joined in, catching Tony with a perfectly placed lump of snow right between the eyes.

The light began to draw in and after purchasing a hot dog each from one of the stands the sounds of carols drifted to their ears so the five of them wandered towards the music. They found a group of singers not far from the Alice In Wonderland statue, each holding lanterns and sheets of music. They looked at one another and joined the crowd as they group began to sing Silent Night. Steve slipped his arms around Katie from behind, pulling her to his bulky, coated frame and she leaned back happily into his embrace. His cold nose brushed against her cheek near her ear as he stooped to drop a kiss there, causing Katie to laugh out loud as he continued to press his cold face against her neck.

“I haven’t seen a carol service since I was a boy.” He said softly.

She turned her head to look at him, as he looked back, was grinning like a school boy as the snow began to fall again, because, whilst he might hate being cold, he didn’t hate any time spent with his best girl.

She placed a soft kiss on his lips. “Taking you back?”

“A little…” He smiled before she turned back to the band, as his nose nuzzled at her ear “Love you… gram mo chroi…”

The words phonetically registered in her brain, graw miu cree the Irish brogue he had spoken made her shiver.

“Yeah that sounds really sexy and I have no idea what you just said.” She tilted her head back to face him.

“You don’t speak Gaelic?” He teased.

“Italian, German, Spanish and French…but no Gaelic.” She smirked.

“Smart ass…” He rolled his eyes before chuckling slightly, his eyes leaving hers to focus on the singers again. “So what does it mean?” She pressed.

“It means love of my heart, of my life.” “Smooth Rogers.” She grinned, catching his lips again.

The singers finished to a round of applause from the surrounding crowd, including wolf whistles from Tony, and the five of them set off back to the Tower, the streetlights bouncing off the white of the snow. Walking the twenty or so minutes back they all stopped to enjoy hot chocolates laced with lashings of brandy at a small Cafe on the corner of Park and 5th, along with roast chestnuts and mince pies. Katie smiled, remarking that it was about as clichéd a Christmas Eve you could get. And she absolutely loved it.

Once back at the tower they all said goodnight and headed to their respective floors and apartments. Once Steve and Katie had shed their various outer layers of winter clothing, Katie instructed Jarvis to light the fire before she headed off into the bedroom before walking back out and across the hall to the larger bathroom where Steve heard her turn on the tap to the tub.

“You having a bath?” He called dropping onto the sofa.

“Warming up.” She called back, grinning as she dropped a Christmas Pudding shaped bath-bomb into the tub, watching as it started to fizz, the gorgeous smells of cinnamon hitting her nostrils. Biting her lip she walked to the door of the bathroom and leaned against it calling down the hall. “Wanna join me?”

Steve heard her, and didn’t need asking twice.

He walked into the bathroom to see her drop her robe to the floor, flashing him a view of her bare back, ass, legs before she stepped into the obscenely large tub and he shed his clothes in about five seconds flat, climbing in behind her. She leaned back against him, his arms coming to rest naturally on the sides of the large tub.

“Why…” he began, looking at his skin, “is there glitter all over my arm?” “I used a bath bomb”

“A what?”

“Things you drop in the water alongside or instead of bubble bath and they smell nice. I’ll show you another day.” Katie explained, closing her eyes and leaning back into the warmth of the water, her head laying on his chest, the fingers of her right hand delicately rubbing across his knuckles.

They were silent for a while, Steve’s head lolling against the back of the tub, utterly contented to stay there until the water went cold, when Katie spoke.

"Say it again.” She whispered softly, wanting to hear the words he’d said before.

He quirked a crooked smile. “Say what?”

She chuckled and bit at the corner of her bottom lip and tilted her head round so she could look at him. “The thing you said earlier… say it again.”

He didn’t’ say a word, instead he dropped his head to kiss her neck, lips laying soft kisses along her shoulders. Slowly, his right hand moved from its spot on the tub to stroking her hip, down the outside of her thigh, up again and then across to her abdomen. The subtle brush of his fingertips on her sensitive flesh set off chills of a very different kind to the one’s Katie had been feeling all afternoon in the snow and she let her eyelids fall shut, a small sigh escaping her lips as his mouth trailed a line from her right shoulder across to her left.

"Say it again.” She breathed out but still Steve said nothing. Instead, he moved his hand down her abdomen going lower and lower until he slowly began to tease her.

Katie shuddered, her breath caught again as her head fell backwards. “Say it…” she tried again, the words coming out as a desperate choked plea.

His grinning face pressed to her neck and shoulder as he nipped gently. “Sorry, I’m an old man. I forget what I say sometimes.”

He knew exactly what she was after and Katie knew he did, he was just being a tease and it was driving her wild. So she decided to deploy the big guns. Her hand drifted down to find his, wrapping tightly around his wrist, stilling his touch and she turned to face him, gently straddling him, sitting on his thighs and sending a slosh of water over the side of the tub onto the tiled floor.

"You forgot that I’m the love of your life?” She pouted softly, eyes locking onto his.

“Doll,” Steve shook his head, dropping his forehead to hers. “No one could ever make me forget that. Ever.”

Bingo. Katie felt the smile cross her face as she leaned in to kiss him as her hand reached down into the water and wrapped around his hardening cock causing him to grunt at little as she squeezed her palm around him.

“Then say it.” She demanded, her hand slowly sliding up his shaft and Steve looked at her, his eyes blown with lust.

“You’re such a fucking brat.” He reached up and tangled one hand into her hair, pulling her face down to his, kissing her hard and he muttered against her mouth, “Gram mo Chroi…”

“Fuck, I love you,” Katie huffed out into his open mouth as his hands went down to her waist and he gently pulled her forwards, positioning her before, without warning, he thrust upwards and she moaned, pushing down onto his lap, water lapping around them as he filled her. “I love you, more than anything.” Katie nipped at his lip and coiled her fingers into his hair, drawing a hiss from his mouth as she moved again, rocking her hips, grinding down on him.

“I love you too.” His ragged breaths snagged on the words as he pressed up into her harder, then harder again, his hands straying to her back, fingers sliding up and down her spine as he pulled her closer to him, kissing her hard before turning his lips to her neck then her chest, the trails of water and soap suds trickled down from between her cleavage to her navel. It made him groan as he looked at her gently rocking on top of him as bucked his hips upwards, meeting her thrust for thrust.

He sat up a little making her purr as he hit her even deeper, as he pulled her close, chest pressed to chest as he kissed her, hands snaking up into the back of her hair which was piled messily on top of her head. Katie moaned into his mouth as he thrust upwards again, and again as she pushed down, rotating her hips against him. It was slow, deep, loving, the sounds of sloshing water and gentle moans and groans filled the large bathroom as they both clung to one another, as close as they possibly could be. Eventually Katie felt the knot in her stomach beginning to unravel and she threw her head back in a soft cry, Steve’s name tumbling from her lips, before she fell forward, burying her head into the crook of his shoulder and neck as she caught her breath. A few more thrusts and Steve was right behind her, his body sliding down into the tub, head resting against the back, his girl tightly clutched to his chest.

Steve’s hands ran up and down her back as Katie gave a low hum of contentment before pulling back, smoothing his hair back with her hands and smiling softly at him, before she kissed him gently.

“You know,” Steve said gently as she pressed her forehead against his. “This is certainly an improvement on Christmas Eve last year.”

Katie chuckled slightly and closed her eyes. "It’s been the best one I’ve ever had.”

*****

Christmas Morning was one of the few times Katie could remember having woken before Steve. But she was always up at the crack of dawn on Christmas Morning and had been since she was a child. Steve’s arms were wrapped around her, one leg tossed over hers doing his best koala impression as always, head buried into the back of her neck. She shifted, rolling over to face him, causing his grip to loosen slightly and simply watched him, taking in how much younger he looked with his face relaxed and how comfortable and peaceful he was in sleep. She leaned over to gently place a kiss on his cheek just underneath where those ridiculously long eyelashes rested, before she rose, swapping Steve’s T-shirt for a long sleeved pair of Christmas pyjamas adorned with little snowmen and Christmas trees and headed into the living area.

The tree was already lit (God bless Jarvis) as was the garland over the fire place and the lights in the kitchen. Turning on the radio low, she poured some ground Christmas Roast into the machine and set about making pancake batter whilst popping off a cork on a bottle of Krug to use for Mimosas, the breakfast drink of champions

Steve heard her singing. Cracking an eye open he glanced at the clock, it wasn’t even gone Eight yet. He took a moment to stretch before he got out of bed, went to use the bathroom and came out, throwing on a pair of plaid sleep pants over his boxers before he made his way to the kitchen. He stopped dead when he saw her dancing around and had to stifle his laugh as he slipped his arms around her from behind, making her jump slightly.

“Merry Christmas, Sweetheart.” He gruffed, his voice still thick with sleep as she tilted her head round to catch the kiss he was offering.

“Merry Christmas, Soldier.”

“What are you wearing?” He arched an eyebrow and Katie grined. “It’s the rules…” She turned to look at him. “On Christmas Day, in the Stark house, we all wear Christmas pyjamas and no one gets dressed until well after lunchtime and then we wear Christmas sweaters, eat dinner, lounge around and do absolutely nothing bar stuffing our faces, drinking and watching movies.”

“I don’t have any Christmas Pyjamas…or a sweater.” Steve frowned. “Yeah you do.” Katie informed, putting down the bowl of batter she had been whisking and grabbing his hand. She tugged him back down the hall and into the bedroom, Steve cursing her silently in his brain for as usual thinking of everything. She headed into the large walk in wardrobe and tossed him a Bloomingdale’s carrier bag. He arched an eyebrow as he reached inside pulling out first the sweater, and giving a loud groan as he examined the large reindeer on the front.

“Its nose lights up.” Katie grinned as she pressed it. At that he let out a snort and shook his head.

“I’m not wearing this.”

“Hey I don’t make the rules.”

“I never was one for rules.” He muttered, now examining the Pyjamas that were green with little red Santa Clauses all over them.

“Bullshit!” Katie laughed and he looked at her, as she fake saluted “Captain America reporting for duty, Sir!”

“Punk.” He shook his head as his lips quirked upwards and he waved the clothes he was holding at her. “They’re awful.”

“They’re supposed to be, that’s the point. Don’t be a Grinch…” “I have no idea what that is.”

“Ok, a Scrooge then…” “I am not dressing like an idiot.” Katie opened her mouth to make a joke about stars, stripes and spandex but he cut her off instantly, spotting the look on her face. Holding up his hand he shook his head. “Just don’t.”

After some cajoling, Katie managed to convince Steve to wear the Pyjamas for the morning. Stockings were opened, Bucks Fizz and Coffee was drunk as they exchanged gifts sitting cross legged on the floor by the fire. But Steve had one last gift for her that he hadn’t wrapped as it wasn’t a Christmas gift really, it was something he’d wanted to give her for a while now but he finally felt the time was right. He took the opportunity to retrieve it from his bag whilst she was dressing after they had eaten breakfast, grabbing the small item in his hand and crossing the room so he was stood in front of her.

“There’s something else I wanted to give you” He spoke, but as he did he found himself unable to stop his eyes from straying down the top half of her body which was clad in nothing but a bra as she pulled on the large sweater. "Huh?” Her voice was muffled as her head emerged from the hole in the sweater and she noticed him watching her. She smirked, sticking her arms through the garment. “You already did that last night. Several times remember?” “I don’t mean that.” He rolled his eyes as she started laughing before he crossed the room and stood in front of her. Katie watched as he was turning a small, circular leather box of some kind in his hand. “I found this when we were going through my stuff for the museum” he said, gently handing it to her. “I want you to have it.”

She looked down at the worn leather of the dark brown box, before pressing the small button which released the catch on the worn, dark brown leather and she carefully opened the lid. Her eyes widened as she glanced down at the delicate ring inside. The stone was a small, tear drop shaped emerald set into a yellow gold band with 3 small diamonds sat underneath the larger part of the teardrop stone. “It was my mom’s” Steve offered by explanation as she looked up at him, her eyes shining “Dad bought it for her before they left Limerick for New York, something to remind her of home.” “The Emerald Isle…” Katie smiled gently as she looked at the ring, her chest filling with warmth. “It probably isn’t worth much and I know you don’t really wear yellow gold but I was reading up that you could get it coated…” “Steve…” She shook her head as she looked up at him. “I wouldn’t dream of it. It’s beautiful.” And it was. All the more so because it had belonged to his mother. A woman she knew so much about. A woman who raised the wonderful man stood in front of her. A woman she wished with all her heard she could have met.

“Are you sure you want me to have it?” She blurted out and Steve nodded. “She gave me that specifically to pass to my someone special.” He trailed off as Katie smiled softly, taking the ring out of the box and slipping it onto the ring finger of her right hand. It was a tad loose but nothing that was too drastic to stop her wearing it for the time being. “Thank you.” Her voice cracked slightly as she looked up into his eyes, those baby blues she knew so well were misting over. “And for the record, regardless of what it’s worth or not worth, it means the world to me that you want me to have it. It’s the best Christmas present I’ve ever had”. She gently cupped his cheek in her hand before she leaned up and captured his lips in a soft kiss. “I love you.” She whispered gently as his nose rubbed against hers, their foreheads coming to a rest against one another. “Love you too.” He smiled, before giving her another quick kiss. “Enough to wear the sweater?” She pulled back, her arms snaking round his neck as his hands dropped to her waist. He glanced at the one she was wearing which made her look like a giant Christmas tree and let out a long groan. He really didn’t want to wear the hideous Christmas sweater, but as he looked at her she made those eyes, those goddamned eyes that could get him to do whatever she wanted.

He just couldn’t say no to her. He was whipped, big time. And he knew it. "Fine I’ll wear the sweater."

**** Chapter 12 Part 2

#stark spangled banner #steve rogers #steve rogers fic #steve rogers x ofc #steve rogers x original female character #Katie Stark #mcu #mcu fanfic #steve rogers smut #chris evans #chris evans characters

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musings-from-mars · 3 years

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@nuts-and-dolts-week - Day 8: Bonus Day!

For Bonus Day, with some inspiration from the FS discord, I gave myself a little challenge to create a story that somehow integrates every prompt for Nuts and Dolts Week! And this is the result!

This has been such a fun event to be a part of, and not only that, this is the first ship week I’ve ever completed! That may not be a huge accomplishment but I’m still super happy 🥰 Thank you to Bio for running this event and to everyone who created content for it, you’re all so talented and sensational!

You can read all my other NnD Week submissions on AO3, maybe kudo and comment if you are so inclined~ Hope you enjoy, thank you so much for reading!

Nuts and Dolts Week 2021 Stories - MusingsFromMars on AO3

Tomorrow they would graduate from Beacon, but tonight, they would have one more picnic in the Emerald Forest.

With a basket full of food and treats in the crook of her elbow, Ruby walked along with Penny down the familiar hillside trail, hiking into the forest towards what they had begun to call Their Spot. The sun at this point was almost set, bathing the partly cloudy sky with a bright orange hue. An evening picnic might have been unusual to most, but to the couple of soon-to-be huntresses, it was perfect.

Since this would be the last time they’d have a picnic like this together, they both went all-out with their preparations. Penny had dressed in her favorite white flowery dress and sun hat, and even had cute sparkly pink lip gloss, eyeliner, and green eyeshadow (all courtesy of Belladonna Cosmetic Services). Ruby had gone even more formal, wearing a white button-up, black suspenders and bow tie, and a red skirt. Weiss had remarked to her that this was a bit much for a picnic, but Ruby assured her that this was perfect for the occasion. Weiss couldn’t be blamed for not knowing all of her plans, after all. In fact, no one else knew what Ruby was planning for this evening.

Tucked securely in her shirt pocket was a small velvet drawstring pouch. Inside it was a ring, Penny’s ring. Ruby had made it herself. Even though her area of expertise was weapons crafting and not jewelry design, she was happy with how it turned out. She even felt confident that Penny would love it, too. Ruby had made it with her in mind, after all. And tonight would be the night that she would give it to Penny and ask her to marry her.

Ruby felt oddly calm about her plan right now. She had imagined herself being really nervous and unable to keep quiet about her plan for long, but now that they were on their way to the very spot she would propose, Ruby felt confident and at ease. Maybe that was the effect Penny had on her. Ruby always felt more comfortable whenever Penny was nearby. It was as if seeing her happy and safe was enough to put everything in perspective. How bad could a problem be if Penny were there for her?

Once they arrived at Their Spot, Penny unfurled the blanket she’d had tucked under her arm, spreading it out over the grass. From here, the thick treeline blocked out the setting sun, leaving them surrounded by soft shadows and gentle warm hues from the dusk sky.

This was all routine by this point. Penny would lay out the blanket, they’d both sit down and open the basket, and Ruby would start munching away at a sandwich while Penny made some tea (using a kettle, the water they packed, and her ability to hold anything in her hand and superheat it, of course). Penny enjoyed making tea this way because it made it easy to smell the complex aromas. While Penny’s tech advancements still didn’t allow her to taste, she at least had made a breakthrough and could now smell things, and tea was one of her favorites. “I am brewing lavender chamomile,” Penny said to Ruby. “It is the tea we had together the first time we had a picnic here.”

Ruby finished her bite of sandwich and smiled. “I love how you can remember little details like that.”

“I remember most everything,” Penny said. “Though our first picnic is certainly easy to recall. It was a lovely occasion.”

“Besides us starting a minor forest fire with Weiss’ electric kettle,” Ruby recounted with a laugh.

“And that is why we use this method now.” Penny nodded to the kettle, holding its underside. “It is much less dangerous.”

“Yeah, I shouldn’t be trusted around hot surfaces,” Ruby said with a giggle, then took another bite of sandwich. “Do you…” She began, but recalled her manners and swallowed her food before continuing. “Do you remember our first date?”

“Of course,” Penny said with a grin. “The one you essentially had to force me to go on.”

“I didn’t force you, did I?” Ruby asked with a raised eyebrow.

“I was certainly nervous about raising the ire of General Ironwood,” she recalled. “But I am quite thankful you did convince me to go to the arcade with you, even if the General was cross with me.”

“You got so many tickets!” Ruby remembered.

“The patterns and rhythms of those arcade machines were not very sophisticated. They were easily exploited for maximum payout.”

“I still have that big plush frog we got as a prize somewhere,” Ruby remembered. “What did we call him?”

“Mister Bumpy Butt.”

“Mister Bumpy Butt!” Ruby said with a grin. “Because he had—”

“—bumps on his butt!” Penny finished for her.

“I still say he should talk to his frog doctor about that,” Ruby joked.

“Indeed, butt bumps could be a sign of underlying illness.”

Ruby snorted and laughed, leaning over and lying her head on Penny’s shoulder. “Gods, we’re so weird.”

“Yes, but I enjoy being weird with you,” Penny replied, smiling as she leaned her cheek against the top of Ruby’s head.

“As do I,” Ruby agreed.

As Ruby took another bite of sandwich, Penny’s kettle began to whistle, and she retrieved two mugs from the basket. One mug already had a few sugar cubes sitting in the bottom. That was Ruby’s mug, of course. Penny filled both with hot tea and handed one to her. No matter what kind of tea it was, Ruby always had to drink it with sugar (much to Weiss’ and Blake’s horror). She took a careful sip and hummed happily. “Perfect as always, Penny.”

“Why thank you,” Penny beamed and set the empty kettle aside. She cradled her mug with both hands and enjoyed the smell of the tea as steam floated from the mug and into the air. She watched as Ruby sipped her tea, then asked, “Do you remember about a couple years before we met properly in Vale, you had accidentally met me when I was still in development at Atlas Academy?”

Ruby’s eyes went wide, and she had to make sure to swallow her tea lest she choke on it before answering, “I almost forgot all about that!”

Penny grinned and nodded. “You know, my father almost deleted that conversation from my memory for fear of ‘contamination,’ but then figured he had advanced my software far enough to the point that my interaction with you might be beneficial. And it turns out it was!”

“How so?” Ruby asked curiously, sipping her tea a bit more carefully.

“I think back to that meeting, and the way I remember it, from that day forward I had so much confidence when meeting new people. I admit, it took me a while to really understand that I might have been, well...forward with new acquaintances, but I think because you, the first ‘stranger’ I ever met, were so nice to me, it made me so optimistic about meeting new people.” She smiled at Ruby. “And that’s why I have so many friends now. All thanks to you.”

“Thanks to me and my insatiable curiosity,” Ruby added with a giggle. “But that’s honestly really sweet. I’m glad I ran into laptop you all those years ago.”

“That laptop was not the most aesthetically pleasing chassis to inhabit. I mean, I had very little physical self-awareness at that point, but looking back on it…”

“Yeah, you’re way sexier now,” Ruby joked.

“Precisely!” Penny agreed wholeheartedly, once again making Ruby laugh.

The sun had fully set by now, and stars began to dot the dark blue sky. The daytime warmth still lingered, but a gentle breeze began to slowly whisk it away.

“Ruby, look at me.”

Ruby blinked and looked her way, surprised by the suddenness of her request. “Huh?”

Penny only stared at her in the face, not offering an explanation. A few seconds later, she smiled and nodded. “Yep. Quite similar indeed.”

“What?” Ruby asked.

“Your eyes,” Penny said. “They look so similar to the moon when it is dark out.” She looked over Ruby’s shoulder. “But I have never gotten to make a side-by-side comparison until now.”

Ruby turned and looked the same way and saw the shattered moon. It had been just behind her head from Penny’s view. Ruby giggled and looked back at her girlfriend. “You’re so sweet.”

Penny smiled wide, her green eyes practically glowing with happiness.

“You know,” Ruby began, leaning a bit closer to Penny. “I don’t think I could compare your eyes to anything.”

Penny tilted her head to the side a bit. “Oh? How come?”

“I’ve never seen anything like them. They’re just so bright and shiny and green.”

Penny blinked, then her cheeks glowed a faint green. “You mean my eyes are incomparable?”

Ruby hadn’t realized her own romantic turn of phrase, but she smiled and nodded. “Yeah, exactly! There’s nothing in the world quite like your pretty eyes.”

Penny smiled, then leaned forward and kissed Ruby’s cheek. “You are so sweet.” Then her eyes went wide, noticing something else behind Ruby. “Oh, the fireflies!”

Ruby gasped and turned her head quickly, and sure enough, the night’s first lightning bugs were beginning to emerge, darting about and glowing. More and more appeared, blinking in a constant array of light like a visual symphony.

“It has been so long since we have seen so many,” Penny said with delight. “Oh, I am so happy they appeared tonight. You know it is almost as if they knew this was our last picnic here, because at this time of year their numbers typically begin to dwindle due to the changes in weather…”

Penny was once again infodumping about insects and Ruby’s heart swelled with a familiar adoration. She wanted to kiss her so bad, but that would mean interrupting Penny as she talked about the temperature preferences of flying bugs. She held off her desire to tackle her into the grass and pepper her face with kisses until later. In the meantime, she set her tea aside and propped her elbows on her knees, all while watching those aforementioned incomparable eyes as they followed the flights of nearby fireflies as she continued.

It wasn’t until a few minutes later that Penny’s voice began to trail away, and she turned to look at Ruby. “Oh, I have been talking for quite some time, huh?”

“Yeah, but I like listening to you talk about fireflies, Firefly,” Ruby said softly with a smile, still with her hands under her chin, still resting her elbows on her knees.

Penny chuckled bashfully. “They are just such fascinating creatures.”

“Hey Penny?”

“Hm?” Penny turned, her eyes meeting Ruby’s again. With the moon reflecting off her eyes, they almost seemed to shine.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.” Penny smiled gently.

Ruby reached out and took Penny’s hand in hers, then took a moment to look around. “Uhm, here.” She got to her feet, still holding Penny’s hand. “This way.”

Penny stood and followed as Ruby led her off the picnic blanket and onto the grass. They walked through the grass a few steps, fireflies floating about them as if used to their presence. Ruby stopped and faced Penny.

Her heart was pounding in her chest, and despite the slowly falling temperatures outside, she was beginning to feel a little hot under her button-up. Here was the nervousness she expected to feel earlier, springing up just as she was about to do what this entire evening was leading to. She took a breath and fidgeted a bit with her bow tie.

“Are you okay?” Penny asked quietly, still holding one of Ruby’s hands.

“I’m...great,” Ruby said. It sounded like a lie, but it wasn’t. She felt anxious, sweaty, and absolutely fantastic all at once. “Penny, I… I have something to ask you. It’s important.”

Penny nodded, giving her her full attention.

Ruby took a breath and nodded. “Penny, when I told you that you are a real girl, I meant it. That day in that alleyway in Vale, I could see how unsure you were, how scared you were. And yet, when I assured you that you’re as real to me as I am to you, you believed me. I could definitely tell how happy that moment made you feel from how hard you hugged me, but...it made me happy, too. To know that I had said something to make you feel real…” Oh no, tears. Not now, tears. “And you believed me.”

Penny stepped a little closer and nodded. “Of course I believed you.”

Ruby smiled, but she willed herself to continue. “Then that day when I thought you were going back to Atlas. I was so scared because I wasn’t sure if I’d ever get to see you again. I ran to find you, and I confessed to you right then and there that I loved you, that I couldn’t let you leave because I knew that you wanted to stay just as much as I wanted you to stay. And…” She was losing her fight against her tears, one escaping and running down her cheek as a smile grew on her face. “I said I love you. And...you believed me.”

“Of course I believed you,” Penny said again with a soft chuckle. She lifted her hand and gently wiped away Ruby’s tears. “I have loved you since the day we became friends.”

Ruby nodded and sniffed. “So have I.” She wiped at her own face, doing her best to compose herself. She wanted to get this moment exactly right. “And now we’re here tonight, for like the hundred-dozenth time. And…” She stared at Penny for a second, taking in a deep breath. She let it out slowly, then reached into her shirt pocket and pulled out the pouch. Penny’s eyes followed as Ruby loosened the drawstring, flipped the pouch over, and let a ring roll from the bag and into her hand. It was a shiny bronze color, with red and green gems embedded in a zigzag configuration all around the circumference. Ruby pocketed the pouch and held the ring between her thumb and index finger. She looked up at Penny and saw her eyes were wide, as if she were slowly beginning to understand.

“Ruby…?”

“And now I’m asking you to marry me,” Ruby said, chuckling with a grin. “Can you believe that?”

“Ruby…” Penny covered her mouth with her hand.

Ruby got down on one knee, holding the ring up to her. Her nerves were gone, replaced only with a blooming joy in her chest. She will never forget the look on Penny’s face at this very moment. “Penny, will you marry me?”

Penny proceeded to tackle hug her to the ground. Ruby grunted and laughed as her back hit the grass. “Yes!” Penny lied on top of Ruby and smiled down at her. “Yes, I will marry you, Ruby!” She kissed her, and Ruby hummed softly and wrapped her arms around Penny’s neck, deepening the kiss. Her nerves were a distant memory now. Now she felt like she was floating just like the fireflies around them, with the love of her life in her arms.

After their kiss, they both found their way back to their feet. Ruby was glad to have held tight to the ring both during and after getting tackled, and she smiled at Penny as she took her hand. “Well then,” she slipped the ring onto her, a perfect fit. “Just call me fiancée.”

Penny grinned and hugged her again, not tackling her but still squeezing tight. “I love you.”

Ruby hugged her back, happily sinking deeper into the embrace. “I love you too,” she whispered.

After reveling in this embrace for a while longer, Ruby opened her eyes and looked up, seeing the Beacon tower in the distance. In a lot of ways, this place had changed her life. She had fulfilled her dream of becoming a huntress and had made friends that she’d forever consider family. But at this very moment, she felt the most thankful for having met Penny. If coming to Beacon had changed her life, then meeting Penny was what made it brighter. She would never forget the years she spent here, but when it came to her and Penny, they had countless more memories to make in the future, together as real girls, as wives.

#rwby #nuts and dolts week 2021 #nuts and dolts week #nuts and dolts #fanfic update #ruby rose #penny polendina

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thebibliomancer · 3 years

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Essential Avengers: Avengers #252: DECIDING FACTOR!

February, 1985

Who on Earth is strong enough to smash Hercules? Hint: there’s two of them!

Well I have my guess but I happened to guess right so I won’t be sharing. Let’s sayyyyyyyy.... Más y Menos.

Its very rude of DCAU’s Más y Menos to be picking on Hercules. Maybe sí podemos but that doesn’t mean ustedes should.

Anyway.

Last times on Avengers, Vision walked through a null field created by Annihilus and promptly fell in a robot coma and had to be put in a tube. He regained consciousness and Starfox hooked him up to the Titan supercomptuer ISAAC after which Vision started behaving oddly. When half of the Avengers got back from Secret Wars, Vision convinced Wasp to step down as chairman and nominate him. He’s created a second branch of the team in California under Hawkeye’s leadership. He’s pushed the president into making the Avengers chair a member of the Cabinet. He hid Starfox’s secret sexy power from the rest of the team. And just last issue, it was revealed that Vision and ISAAC have built a take-over-the-world-for-its-own-good device with Vision only lacking the will to pull the trigger on it.

So, uh, stuff is afoot.

Vision stuff. And, oddly enough, Doc Sampson stuff.

Vision is very impressed on seeing what seems to be Doc Sampson’s demo reel and offers him membership in the Avengers.

Doc Sampson turns him down because he doesn’t see himself as hero material and he already accepted an offer to join the faculty of Northwestern University.

Vision: “That needn’t rule you out, doctor! What would you say to heading a new, Midwestern branch of the Avengers? I should think you’re make an excellent group leader!”

Wow, Vision. You’re coming on a little strong there.

Midwest Avengers seems like the kind of thing that would be made up to spoof the expansion team idea, kinda like the Great Lakes Avengers of later. But if Vision seems desperate to get Doc Sampson to join the Avengers, well I think he is desperate.

Vision talked to ISAAC of his frustrations on trying to spread the power and influence of the Avengers. He has his take-over-the-world-for-its-own-good device but he doesn’t seem to want to use it. So he’s trying to repeat the trick with the West Coast Avengers. Sign up more and more Avengers. If you told this era of Vision about the 50 State Initiative, he’d be all over it.

But Doc Sampson turns him down. For the best. God only knows who Vision would have finagled into being on the Midwest Avengers in Chicago.

Doc Sampson: I wonder if I made a mistake in turning down the Vision’s offer? Being part of such a team would have given me an opportunity to observe some highly unusual psyches up close. But, no... I could hardly maintain an impartial detachment in such a situation.

Yeah. A Doc Sampson led Chicago-branch would have been an implosion waiting to happen. And Sampson will get his chance to pick the brains of a superhero team later with X-Factor. He does not maintain an impartial detachment.

On his way out, Starfox very much wants to discuss this newspaper headline. As he’s from a more advanced space civilization that doesn’t have prejudice probably, this is very baffling to him.

He hasn’t been on Earth long enough to learn that “ANTI-MUTANT FEAR GRIPS U.S.” is Tuesday.

I wonder if it corresponds to anything going on in the X-books. I tried to look it up but the same month as this issue, X-Men was doing a Kulan Gath thing.

Anyway, Vision and Doc Sampson agree that anti-mutant fear gripping things is bad and could tear society apart.

So in case anyone was ever wondering: the Avengers officially think anti-mutant fear is whack.

Anyway, on the mansion’s back patio, Captain America and Scarlet Witch are just having some old friend hangout time.

It’s a nice moment, really.

Wanda is drinking tea and Cap is just sketching her because they’re comfortable enough friends to hang out in a tea sketch party.

Anyway, Cap is also familiar enough with Wanda to know that she’s well vexed.

And she admits that she’s well vexed by two things. Of course, by the new wave of anti-mutant phobia because it really seems like a cruel cycle where every time people seem like they’re chilling out or there’s a swell of tolerance, it just gets yanked back. A cruel yo-yo of intolerance.

Also, its happening when she’s having personal trouble with Vision. He’s keeping secrets and he has some really extreme moods.

Scarlet Witch: “One moment he’ll be friendly and open, and the next he’ll get so remote!”

I wonder if its possible for Hank Pym’s bipolar disorder to have skipped a generation and somehow been inherited by Vision. That’s entirely not how anything works but I dunno. That sounds like Hank.

Since Cap has been wondering about Vision’s behavior (he and Monica Marvel had a discussion about it in the previous issue, remember?), he agrees to go talk to Vision.

Vision is having solemn thoughts in the mansion’s library, having been upset by the Daily Bugle that Starfox was waving around.

Vision: The world is beset by so much strife. Humanity cries out for peace... Yearns for life and prosperity... but in the end it denies itself that which it most desires! Mankind might never put aside its prejudices. Too many have refused responsibility for their own actions. How can they be expected to save the world? And, yet, who am I -- a synthezoid, an artificial being -- to rail against men of flesh? My encephalatron command chair would give me the power to bring peace to the world... and yet I hesitate to use it! Can I find the courage... make the sacrifice necessary to use that power?

That’s when Cap wanders in to give Vision a talking to. A supportive, helpful talking to.

Since he assumes that what Vision has on his mind is the burdens of leadership, he confides that he knows how tough it can be to have to always make the right decision at a moment’s notice and that he’s here if Vision needs a sympathetic ear.

Vision admits that chairmanship isn’t what he expected. He’s not unaware of the strain that its putting on his marriage. Especially since he insisted that they rejoin the team when Wanda would have preferred to return to their civilian life in New Jersey.

Cap tells him just talk to her more, ya goof.

So this is a very nice conversation between friends and peers that Vision drops a bomb of a totally-a-hypothetical into.

Vision: “Cap, what would you do if you discovered that you could bring peace and prosperity to the entire world... but only at the cost of your personal well being, perhaps of your own existence?”

Cap: “What?!”

Vision: “We have all put our lives on the line many times to stop world-threatening menaces, but it occurs to me that we’ve seldom tried to do anything to cure the world of its ills.”

Cap: “We do what we can, Vision. There are no fast and simple ways to eliminate want or fear.”

Vision: “But what if there were a way to insure a lasting peace to the world, to bring about a new golden age? What if you could only bring it about by sacrificing yourself? What if you could make the world a paradise, but you could never enjoy it yourself? Could you do it?”

Cap: “It pains me to say this, Vision, but I honestly don’t know. I don’t believe I could know unless the situation actually presented itself. Life should never be given up lightly, but... if there were a way to truly save the world... I’d like to think that I’d make the sacrifice. But I’d have to be certain that it would work!”

Vision: “Yes... Yes, there could be no room for doubt.”

I do really like the slow unfolding of whatever Vision’s Supervillain Actually Its Well-Intentioned plan is. His doubts and how he poses a very specific hypothetical to Cap to see what The Iconic Avengers Leader thinks.

At this point my guess is that Vision is going to turn himself into a supercomputer like ISAAC to take over the world, for its own good. Since it was apparently inspired when he was plugged into a supercomputer and was running the mansion.

Anyway, Wanda runs in and interrupts the totally-a-hypothetical discussion with big, alarming news that their house from the Vision and Scarlet Witch series is on fire.

That’s rough.

By the time Wanda, Vision, and emotional support Captain America show up, the ire is unstoppable and the firefighters just let it burn down.

That’s rougher.

Later, Vision and Wanda pick through the smouldering rubble.

And worse of all, this wasn’t a random electrical or grease or magic fire. It was arson. And the arsonist even called the cops to make sure everyone knew it.

Scarlet Witch: “So! I should have known! The blind, unreasoning fools! Do I have to fight them for the rest of my life?!?” This is so maddening! Losing my temper won’t bring our house back... all I’ve done is frighten the neighbors. That’s always been the biggest problem in being a mutant... No one will let you act human.

Some random bystanders basically gloat that the “weirdies are finally leaving” causing Captain America to go off.

Captain America: “For your information, mister, those ‘weirdies’ have saved your hide a dozen times over! They’ve fought and bled so you could have a home!”

Bystander: “N-now hold on, Cap! Me, I don’t have anything against ‘em... but why’d they have to move into my neighborhood? I mean, all our houses coulda caught fire from that blaze! This never woulda happened, if they hadn’t moved here!”

Captain America: “Mister, today somebody decided that he didn’t like mutants. Tomorrow, maybe someone will decide he doesn’t like blacks... or jews... or you! We’re all in this together. The American dream has to be there for everyone, or it can never truly work for anyone! It’s our duty to do everything we can to make sure it works!”

I doubt Bystander is very convinced. Maybe momentarily shamed. But in an hour he’ll be like “am I wrong about mutants? No, its the tolerant people who are wrong.”

But Vision... Vision has made up his mind.

Vision: ‘Do I have the right to take over the world for its own good?’

Vision: ‘Moral quandary resolved.’

The next morning, Vision has exciting new terrible news for the team. The US Army Corp of Engineers have dug up Thanos’ secret base in Arizona from his first appearance in Iron Man #55. And despite Vision protesting how dumb it is to poke unknown alien technology in hopes of finding a cool new weapon for America’s strategic arsenal, the Department of Defense is having the army poking unknown alien technology in hopes of finding a cool new weapon for America’s strategic arsenal.

Captain America: “Blazes! I believe in a strong defense as much as anyone, but the hardware Thanos used is way out of the army’s league!”

Starfox: “Perhaps more than even you can imagine, Cap! My brother Thanos was a ravager of worlds... he coveted power and worshiped death! His hidden base could well hold the means to rip this planet asunder!”

Cool, cool.

Man, I hate it when the US Army blew up the world in 1985 by poking alien gewgaws.

Anyway, Vision did manage to talk the government into allowing a small group of Avengers to act as advisers.

Instead of rounding up scientific geniuses slash superheroes like they did for Bruce Banner’s lab, Vision just selects everyone he has handy.

He says he’d like to assign the West Coast Avengers (who in fairness do have two scientific experets - Mockingbird and Wonder Man, kinda) but they’re busy with an off-panel mission in the Pacific. Just because they don’t have a book doesn’t mean they stop doing stuff.

So instead Vision selects Captain America, Hercules, Scarlet Witch, and Starfox (who in fairness is a great choice since he knows space science and Thanos) and sends them off.

Yeah. Vision is totally going to get up to stuff while they’re gone.

This foreboding is enhanced when Captain Marvel shows up and Vision tells her he has a special assignment for her.

Vision: “Our deep space monitor has picked up some disturbing signals -- that seems to be emanating from Sanctuary II, the starship which once belonged to the mad Thanos! After the arch-fiend’s final defeat, we left his ship to drift beyond the orbit of Pluto!”

Since she’s the fastest Avenger he asks her to leave at once, fly out to the ship to check it out, and then report back.

So. Light is the fastest thing, the speed limit of the universe. Give or take tachyons which are FTL and also hypothetical. And I don’t know if Captain Marvel can turn into tachyons. Point being, the speed of light is really friggin fast but the universe is really friggin big. Even something as ‘close’ as our solar backyard where Pluto is located is 4.9 billion miles away and takes light 4.6 hours to get there from Earth.

He is definitely getting Captain Marvel out of the way where even her nyoom will take a while to get back.

The Vision slowly stalks through the corridors of Avengers Mansion. On the second floor, he pauses before the door of the quarters he for so long shared with his wife... recalling past joys and sorrows. And then, he moves on -- solemnly descending the grand staircase, as if for the final time.

O_O

Uh...... plus side is that he gives Jarvis the day off to take his mother to Montauk Point!

I just like seeing Jarvis in Avengers.

He’s always around but only occasionally seen.

My god. His vacation clothes though.

Of course, Vision being nice to Jarvis who deserves good things is only partially because Jarvis is a cool guy who deserves nice things.

Vision has managed at this point to clear everyone out of the mansion and he locks the doors behind Jarvis so that NO ONE CAN INTERRUPT WHAT HE MUST DO.

Meanwhile, team ‘prevent the military from doing anything stupid’ arrives in Arizona and at the site of Thanos’ former base.

Huh. I was half and half on whether Vision was just making shit up to get the Avengers out of the house but I guess something really is going on.

Makes sense. If they went there and found nothing, they’d return too soon.

I wonder if there’s something really going on with Thanos’ ship Sanctuary II too.

If so, was it just a great coincidence that Vision had two different emergencies he could divert the team with the day after he decided to go through with his plan or is it just the Avengers’ lot that there’s constantly emergencies going on and he had his pick of them?

Anyway. Colonel Farnam of the US Army is convinced that they have everything under control at Operation: Prize Package and don’t need any Avengers supervision.

Colonel Farnam: “If we can figure out how just a fraction of this gear works, the United States will never again need fear an enemy power!”

Captain America: “I’m told that similar sentiment was expressed following the development of the crossbow, Colonel.”

Nice sass, Cap.

But, like, the instant that the Avengers are escorted inside the base, Starfox spots some technicians messing with a machine to see what it does and they tell him to screw off when he tells them not to mess with things they don’t understand.

Starfox: “GET AWAY FROM THERE!”

Scientist: “What are you, crazy?! We’ve spent twelve hours trying to goose this transmitter to life... we’re not going to stop now!”

He has to drag them away from a sudden energy surge as the machine activates by itself with a programmed homing signal that will bring Something to the base.

Colonel Farnam: “Now hold it right there, Avenger! Only my men are authorized to monkey with these machines!”

Starfox: “Colonel, I was raised among machiens such as these! If I can’t fix these settings, your men don’t stand a chance!”

Colonel Farnam: “I don’t care if you were raised in... GOOD LORD!”

Geez. It may have been partially a ruse to get the Avengers out of the house but its a good thing Vision sent the Avengers here. The US Army was clearly going to doom the world unsupervised.

GOOD JOB RANDOM SCIENTISTS

NOW HERCULES IS GETTING HIS ASS KICKED

IS THAT WHAT YOU WANTED, YOU MONSTERS??

Anyway, the Blood Brothers are some Thanos minions from early days. Weird that they never showed up for the MCU. Like, look, they didn’t need to be part of the Black Order. They don’t have the theme naming.

But these two dinguses would have made great antagonists in one of the earlier movies.

Though Starfox and Hercules get wrecked for being the nearest to the Blood Brothers when they appear, Cap and Scarlet Witch do better for being slightly forewarned.

Captain America can do the backflips to keep from getting punched and Wanda’s do anything powers are as helpful as always.

Meanwhile, back at Avengers Mansion, Dane Whitman (sometimes the Black Knight, sometimes just exhausted), arrives and tries to use his old Avengers ID card to enter.

The security system does not like that.

Anyway, back in Arizona, Starfox rejoins the fight. That’s good.

Wanda tries to do her patented ‘all oxygen play keep away from this guy’ move on one of the Blood Brothers but his super strength lets him slam the ground to break Wanda’s concentration.

The other Blood Brother tries to strangle Captain America who got knocked into a pile of rubble but Hercules emerges from underneath the rubble to do that greatest of comic book tropes.

Ah, grievous harm with a body. How I love you.

But though the Blood Brothers heads are hard enough to knock each other out, the fight did do some lasting damage.

TO MY PERCEPTION OF HERCULES!

When the Blood Brothers beat the shit out of Hercules at the beginning of the fight, they apparently tore his Hercules skirt.

And Hercules isn’t wearing anything under his Hercules skirt.

So the other three Avengers get to see Hercules’ mighty adamantine mace, so to speak.

That’s all well and good.

Except its not!

Hercules? Being ashamed of public nudity??

That doesn’t sound like the Hercules I know!

Tsk tsk, how retroactively out of character! Annnnd possibly not retroactively? Didn’t he compete in the original Olympics which were no pants allowed?

You’ve corrupted him, modern society!

Anyway.

Captain America starts yelling at the colonel because if the Avengers hadn’t been here, it would have been a major disaster.

Captain America: “You were warned -- Washington was warned -- that something like this could happen! But those warnings were almost totally ignored!”

But back at Avengers Mansion, Dane Whitman wakes up and sees this argument being broadcast on a jumbo screen.

Vision: “People never listen to those who know better! I shall have to change all that!”

Vision: “Hello, Dane. I’m sorry you had to be incapacitated. But your arrival was most unexpected... and I really can’t afford any interruptions now! You see, I have to save humanity from itself!”

Something about you seems different, Vision.

Did you become one with the universe? It’s a pretty popular move.

Follow @essential-avengers because whoa what huh? Vision what? Also, like and reblog. Its necessary to save humanity from itself.

#avengers #Blood Brothers #the Vision #Scarlet Witch #Starfox #Hercules #Captain Marvel #Monica Rambeau #Black Knight #essential avengers #essential marvel liveblogging

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youtuberswithalex · 5 years

Text

Keep It Hidden

Summary: Virgil caught his least favorite illness of them all (if one could have such a thing)—the stomach flu. The last thing he wants is for the others to find out. (Pre-Accepting Anxiety)

A/N: This is the sickfic that I wrote for an anon last week that got WAY out of hand and ended up as a five-page fic-- I hope you enjoy!!

Warnings: detailed depiction of vomiting, sickness, mentioned Unsympathetic Dark Sides, cursing

Word count: 1,878

---

Virgil had known this day would come eventually, but now that it was actually here, it sucked.

Getting sick was far from a rare occurrence for him. When Thomas got a little too nervous, or got jumpscared one too many times in a day, Virgil’s immune system would go to shit and he’d be left as some sort of feverish mess. He’d had what felt like every type of illness under the sun over the years—colds, flus, sinus infections, ear infections, chicken pox, and so, so many more.

His normal routine was to lay on the couch and watch cartoons until whatever bug he had this time passed. He’d cover his head with blankets whenever Remus ran by, screaming about butts, and he’d hiss at Deceit until he got the message that he wanted to be alone. And with the other guy, he’d…

Well. Virgil didn’t want to think about what he’d had to do to get him away.

It wasn’t a fun system, but it got him better way faster than if he stayed cooped up in his bedroom, for some reason. He liked to think it had something to do with the cartoons, or maybe just being away from the germs that got him sick in the first place.

And then the Dark Sides kicked him out, and he got stuck with the Light Sides that despised him, and he’d caught his least favorite illness of them all (if one could have such a thing)—the stomach flu.

And it sucked.

For the last six hours, Virgil had been curled up on the bathroom floor, throwing up what felt like everything he’d ever eaten in the last three years until there was nothing but bile. Every gag and retch at this point felt like someone was trying for force a rock up his esophagus. Between cycles, he would lay down and press his throbbing head against the cool tiles below, but it never lasted long before being sideways took its toll on his stomach and he was retching over the toilet again.

The only thing he could be grateful for was that it had started in the early hours of the morning. The last thing he wanted was for the Lights to see him like this. But he knew his luck was running out, and he needed to get back to his room before—

“Anxiety!” Bam, bam, bam! “Hurry up in there! I need to make myself beautiful for the day!”

Virgil choked back a groan, pushing himself off the floor as he glared at the door. “It’s a bathroom, Princey, not a miracle store,” he snapped.

He heard Roman gasp. “How dare you! I got a full ten hours of beauty sleep last night; I just need to touch myself up!”

His eyes fluttered shut at the mention of sleep, but he did his best to stay awake enough to make his voice sound normal. “Have you tried 24?”

Another noise of offense sailed through the door, followed by footsteps storming away. As soon as Virgil heard them going down the stairs, he moved as quickly as he could handle to get up and clean the bathroom. He then rushed down the hall to get to his bedroom, shutting the door just as Patton was coming up.

Legs trembling, Virgil slid down the door and breathed as evenly as he could.

Knock, knock. “Anxiety?”

This time, he didn’t hold his groan. “What?”

“Breakfast is almost ready!” Patton said. “I made some eggs, and Logan’s making his special waffles! You do not want to miss out on this!”

Just the thought of food made him wish he’d never left the bathroom. He squeezed his stomach. “I’m not hungry. Eat without me.”

There was a pause. “Are you sure? You shouldn’t skip meals like this, kiddo…”

“Positive.” Virgil’s stomach twisted again, and he swallowed thickly, panic welling up inside him “Leave me alone.”

“But Anxiety—”

“Go away!”

A moment passed, and then Patton let out a breath. “Okay,” he softly said. “Just… Please come down for lunch, at least?”

“I’m not making any promises,” Virgil grunted. He carefully pushed himself to his feet, and as footsteps slowly disappeared down the hall, he slowly lowered himself back into bed.

Bundling himself up in as many blankets as he could, Virgil shut his eyes and forced himself to try to get some sleep.

---

He was awoken a few hours later by another knock on the door. “Anxiety?”

Virgil sat straight up, looking towards the source of the sound as his brain struggled to differentiate reality and his fever dream. “Whu… Huh?”

“Patton has asked me to notify you that lunch is ready,” Logan stated. “He was very adamant that you attend, and I can’t say I feel much different. Skipping meals, especially breakfast, is extremely unhealthy.”

Scrubbing at his eyes, Virgil let out a moan. “I’ll be down in a minute…,” he muttered.

“Excellent. I will see you momentarily.”

“Mm-hm…”

Virgil hardly heard the footsteps walk away as he leaned forward, burying his face in his hands. It was so nice and warm here in bed… So easy to fall back asleep…

---

The next time he woke up, it was to a sharp twist in his stomach.

His eyes shot open to see a dim room and an orange sky; he remembered with a start what he’d last been doing, and would have let out a curse had he not been breathing heavily, trying to force the nausea away as soon as he could. He balled up his fist and held it in front of his trembling mouth. He did not want to be sick again.

His body, however, seemed to have other plans.

Virgil shuffled out of bed and towards the door as fast as he could. He wrapped a loose arm around his stomach as soon as he was on his feet. Knowing the others were probably around, he did his best to be silent opening his door.

Another door opened down the hall. Virgil looked over in time to make eye contact with Roman as he stepped into the hall.

They glared.

“Well, it looks like someone was projecting this morning,” Roman sneered.

Virgil huffed out a shaky breath before stumbling towards the bathroom. “Shut up, Princey,” he wheezed.

“Oh, so you can dish it out, but you can’t take it, huh?”

He shut the door and dropped to his knees in front of the toilet.

“Real mature, Sir Ector de Morbid!”

Virgil retched.

The first heave took out any bile remaining in his stomach from that morning, and then all he could do was dry heave until his body decided to stop. His abs ached like there was no tomorrow; his lungs burned as he struggled to get air between cycles. Snot and tears dribbled down his face and landed in the water below.

“Uh… Patton?” Roman’s voice yelled from outside.

An agonizing minute or two later, the door burst open, and a gasp echoed between the tiled walls.

“Oh, Anxiety…!”

One hand rested between his shoulder blades while another slipped into his hair, each rubbing soothing circles. Virgil tried to shake them off, but with his head still in the toilet, found it very hard to do so.

(Not that he really wanted to, anyway—it was… strangely comforting.)

When his stomach finally gave him the chance to breathe, Virgil slumped against the seat and panted. His head spun like the tilt-a-whirl at the county fair, and his eyelids felt as heavy as the ride itself. It would be so easy to just… take a little nap…

The hands removed themselves from his body, and Virgil had to choke back a whine. They weren’t gone for long, though; a second later, they rested on his shoulders and sat him up before carefully settling him back against the tub.

He cracked his eyes open to watch as Patton rested a hand on his forehead. Behind him, Logan was filling a paper cup with water at the sink. Roman hovered in the hall just outside the door.

“I didn’t…” Virgil tried to swallow. “Di’n mean to miss lunch,” he breathed.

“Shh, it’s okay, Anxiety,” Patton whispered. “You’re running a bit of a fever… Why didn’t you tell us you weren’t feeling well?”

Virgil whined. “Didn’t wanna.”

Logan crouched and held out the water. “Drink this. You need to stay hydrated.”

Virgil tried to take it, but his hands were trembling so much that he nearly dropped it as soon as he had to support its weight; Logan and Patton were quick to catch it and help guide it to his lips, where he practically began to pour it down his throat.

“Easy, easy…”

They pulled back after a moment, and Virgil drooped, leaning his head against the wall. He let out a moan and wrapped his arms around his stomach. Patton placed a hand on his shoulder and rubbed little circles with his thumb before looking at Logan.

“What do you think it is?” he asked.

Logan inspected Virgil’s face with a frown. “Well, it appears his symptoms include vomiting, nausea, stomach cramps, and a fever, so I suspect it’s—”

“Stomach flu,” Virgil mumbled.

“Viral gastroenteritis, yes.”

Roman leaned against the doorway. “Were you ill this morning?”

Virgil shut his eyes. “Uh-huh.”

“Is that why you were taking so long in the bathroom?”

“Uh-huh.”

Patton looked at him. “When did this start up, kiddo?”

He swallowed thickly, then let out a whimper when a cramp rolled through his stomach again. “Woke up at like… 1:30…?”

“Oh, Anxiety…” Patton pressed his hand to his cheek and frowned. “Why don’t we set you up on the couch for tonight? I know you don’t like staying outside your room for too long, but I really want to keep an eye on you until you’re feeling better. We can watch whatever you want, if you’re up for it.”

Virgil opened his eyes to look at Patton; the father figure offered a gentle smile, despite his brow still being furrowed. His eyes flicked to Logan, who had a similar concerned gaze, and then to Roman, who refused to look his way. A pit settled in his stomach as he looked back to Patton.

“Is it gonna bother anyone if I’m out there…?” he whispered.

Patton shook his head. “No, honey. It’s okay. You’re allowed to be in the living room, sick or not. Okay?”

Tears threatened to form in Virgil’s eyes, but he forced them back. He sniffled and wiped at his nose.

“…Can we watch Billy and Mandy?”

-----

A few minutes later, Virgil lay on the couch, head in Patton’s lap, washrag on his forehead, and a blanket wrapped tight around his shivering body. A garbage can sat just in front of him, and the Grimm Adventures of Billy and Mandy played on the TV. Logan and Roman sat on the other side of the couch.

Patton was running his fingers through Virgil’s sweaty hair. Virgil tried to keep watching the show, but his eyes kept fluttering shut. Eventually, Patton leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead.

“Go to sleep, Anxiety,” he whispered. “It’s okay. You’re safe.”

He was too tired to say no.

#sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides fanfic #sick fic #sickfic #virgil sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #alex writes

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seungminotes · 4 years

Text

Accident - Prone

enemies to lovers/ almost-lovers with Hwang Hyunjin

A/N: this took so long and I don’t think I’m even happy with the result. I hope you like it though, anon

Warnings: 1.5 k words | kinda slow | potential part two? | not proofread

Hyunjin is literally the worst luck charm ever. Everywhere he goes is just a natural disaster around you.

No matter what, always end up getting physically hurt.

Whether it was a flying soccer ball to your nose, that awful chemical burn in chem after you two were partnered together once, the spilled water on your favorite blouse... the list goes on and on.

After so many unlucky occurrences, you had finally decided Hyunjin was just the equivalent of seeing a black cat

A warning sign of impending doom.

Okay but, perhaps he was just dramatic and clumsy

the thought never really occurred to you that this boy was just made like that.

You only figured: you plus him in a room together was not the best of ideas. It just could never end well.

You swore you two could’ve been mortal enemies in a past life or something.

These occurrences had just become so frequent that at one point, you naturally despised the lanky boy.

Though quite unreasonable of you, you simply wanted nothing to do with him.

Hyunjin on the other hand, had no ill feelings towards you.

No, those ill feelings were rather reserved for himself whenever he somehow managed to ruin your day over and over again.

He partially blamed his lack of coordination, but then he remembers he’s a dancer and had rather impressive coordination in comparison to most other people.

Maybe that was saved for dancing though, maybe somehow those skills dissipated offstage and outside the practice room.

Orrrrr just maybe... it was just around you that he became so flustered, the human embodiment of a hot mess, that he could not function or even move accordingly?

Whatever it was, he felt utterly sorry for every encounter you’d ever had with him.

At some point he had tried to very actively avoid you in hopes of sparing himself the embarrassment of yet another disaster.

He always made sure he and his friend group were situated as far as possible from you in the cafeteria during lunch.

If he saw you walking down a hallway, he’d always be sure to turn the other direction.

Heck he’d run into you only a certain amount of times before he had memorized your routes and just avoided those altogether.

He very secretly cared for your own safety… from himself.

Which wasn’t the most romantic of things

Which was reasonable, right?

You could probably never have a romantic connection with someone with which nothing could ever go right.

But why did that notion disappoint him so much??? hmmm

Hyunjin probably shouldn’t want to get any closer to you, that’s exactly why he drew an imaginary boundary

And his plan proved to be more than effective with time.

That at least it was…

Until Kim Seungmin, his own very best friend, decided to befriend you after a photography project you’d both worked on.

Ever since then, you two had been practically inseparable…

leading many to believe in a prospective couple. Oop

Hyunjin typically just annoyed the thoughts of other surrounding the topic of you and Seungmin though, not that it bothered him per say

Anywayyyy

Seungmin now sat with you on the other side of the cafeteria.

Even after his long protest for you to go sit with his other friends, you couldn’t quite bring yourself to be in harm's way that close to Hyunjin.

“They’re not mean or anything, y/n,”

“I didn’t say they are, I just don’t know them that well, it would be awkward,”

“Well how can you get to know them if you won’t even sit near them,”

Okay so maybe at this point your feeling a bit guilty towards Minnie who is sacrificing some time with his best friends to sit with you now

But as you glance towards his group of friends on the other side of the room, you couldn't help but get nerves from the sight of Hwang Hyunjin

Seungmin notices the change in demeanor in your face after you take a peek over there

He thinks he;s just uncovered the mystery of the century

“I saw that!”

“Saw what?”

“That passive aggressive glare you just shot my friends, which one do you hate?

“Seungggg, it’s nothing,”

“I bet it’s Jisung, he’s so loud, not really your type”

“I think Jisung is nice, drop it.”

“Hyunjin?”

The very mention of his name makes your face drop

Seungmin of course catches it

“Knew it”

So this leads to a very detailed retelling of every horrible occurrence that has happened to you in the presence of his friend

“You’re being stupid, he just has butter fingers”

“You must have a butter body to mess up that much”

“Never say that phrase again, I didn’t like the mental image”

“Oh shut up”

Luckily the bell rang just in time to bring the convo to a close

but as you both get up to throw your trays away Seungmin ultimately gets the last word

“You're sitting with us tomorrow”

You may or may not have pouted all the way to English with him afterwards

Nothing really works on Seungmin though

Snake

So the next day, you’re sitting at lunch with all these guys you don’t know very well

But Min makes sure to introduce you well and they’re all super inclusive of you

He even made sure you and Hyunjin sat on opposite ends of the table

Not that it even mattered though because Hyunjin was unusually quiet

He really didn’t even look at you …

Which didn’t bother you that much

Though it did make the atmosphere a bit tense when he was spoken to and wouldn’t really listen

He seemed super out of it

At least until he completely knocked over his carton of milk onto Felix’s tray

He cursed under his breath, because trust me he knew something would happen in the time span of half an hour that you were sitting this near him

Your breath hitched for a second because you were lowkey scared something was gonna happen soon

One of his natural disasters

But oddly enough, nothing really came towards you

Hyunjin got up to go scavenge for some napkins

And lunch was soon nearing its end

Meaning, you had spent a full 30 minutes near Hwang Hyunjin and remained unscathed

Who would have thought?

Seungmin, that’s who

He made it very clear too

His little “told you so” as you were getting up to throw your trash away

Unfortunately for you though, the nearest trash can appeared to be directly behind Hyunjin

Who by now was trying to clean up the mess of milk he made on the table

Considerate guy huh

“Y/n, hurry up we’re gonna be late” Seungmin urged

What could go wrong if you just ….

Walk behind Hyunjin for like 3 seconds??

A lot more than you’d expect to be honest

In those mere three seconds Hyunjin has managed to turn around, trip you, and hit you on the side of the head with his outstretched arm clutching wet napkins

Cue Seungmin cracking up

And mortified Hyunjin

“Are you ok? Shoot I didn’t see you, are you good?

Your head lowkey panged but his worry was kind of unexpected …

And kinda maybe very adorable???

Uh oh

You get up and assure him you’re just fine

He kinda just scratches the back of his neck awkwardly

“I think I hurt you a little too often.”

“I’ve noticed,”

“I swear it’s not intentional or anything though”

Seungmin can’t take this atmosphere, he dips quick

He also can’t afford a tardy which you are obviously gonna get if you keep standing there staring up at this guy

You of course take notice that this awkward moment is taking a bit too long

But something is really keeping you glued to this spot and it may or may not have to do with the warm worried eyes staring down at you

“I think Seungmin left you,” Hyunjin nods his head to where your friend was previously waiting for you

“Little snake”

The little sound that Hyunjin made trying not to laugh kinda made you giggle

And oh no

Hyunjin found that way too cute for his own good

He decides to walk you to English, he knew the route pretty well, go figure

He does keep his distance though

After he drops you off at the door, you’re already late and so is he of course

But he waits for you to go in before sprinting to his own class

Almost like walking you home after a date

When you excuse yourself into class, Seungmin is smirking at you from your shared desk

“And I thought you hated Hyunjin.”

A roll of your eyes didn’t make him any less smug though.

#hyunjin #hwang hyunjin #stray kids #skz #skz scenarios #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin imagines #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids fluff #skz hyunjin #hwang hyunjin x reader #stray kids x reader #skz imagines #skz blurbs

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comphersjost · 4 years

Note

Being a dancer and Matty finding out. He would get so cheeky so fast with all his chirps and when y’all eventually get together he definitely tests your flexibility😏

oh my god okay

smut under the cut

hear me out

like, you’re on an internship with the flames as a junior athletic trainer

and like, it’s your last year of college and you really just want to get this degree and go

and your kinesiology advisor was some washed up hockey player and had given you two options:

apply for a different physical therapy related internship

or work with the university’s hockey team

and after a few run ins with those guys at parties well, there was no way you were working with your university’s hockey team

so you applied for the flames position

and got it

but like, youre still a college student, and you still have to do things like make rent and pay your car insurance and your health insurance and utilities and groceries and billion other things that sucked all your money out of you

so, you found a nice little side hustle that only required a few hours a night for a couple hundred dollars

and it was perfect because it didnt just help you with your expenses, but also made you comfortable

you were financially secure with this job - as long as you kept your face covered

and you did

one night, it’s matthew tkachuk’s birthday

you only really know because noah hanifin had come down to the trainer’s rooms to get his knee checked out and taped just in case - he had an awkward fall and wants to be safe

he’s nice enough, always smiling politely and asking how you are

and then matthew shows up, waiting for you to finish

the two talk about their plans for the night, and you pretend not to listen

your ears perk when you here noah say “come on man it’s your birthday, let loose”

“i know dude, theres just one thing i really wanted for tonight and i cant have it,” matty replies, and when your eyes flick up at him hes already staring at you. “ill still come out with you guys though”

you finished up with noah’s knee and tapped him, signaling he could go

“look man, just try to have fun,” noah hops off the table, “dont think you much you know - thanks y/n - you know dude?”

matthew rolls his eyes and shoves noah in front of him, ignoring his yell of protest

“bye, y/n” he says, his gaze too intense for you to keep eye contact

“bye guys, see you tomorrow,” you say softly, the clean up in front of you suddenly the most interesting thing in the room

you push them out of your head as youre finally leaving the arena

youve got somewhere to be and you werent going to let whatever these two hooligans said make you late

you make it to the club you work at just in time

you get ready in a rush, trying to fasten all the clips and tie all the ribbons as fast as you can

one of the other girls helps you, fasting the last few clips while you tie a masquerade mask over your face

and like - you shouldve double knotted it

or at least double checked it like you normally

because you get out there and your boss tells you

“you’ve got a private booking first, some hot shot kid’s birthday”

the description makes you uneasy but you figure, calgary is a big city, theres not way its him

but you walk into a room set a side for private shows and -

there he is

dumb navy suit and dumb curls and all

he looks up when you enter the room, a smirk on his lips

but youve been around the team long enough to know when its fake

his eyes dont have the fire in them

you drop your voice a few octaves, purring to make yourself sound seductive but more importantly - different

every thing is going well, and youre almost through

matt has a hand on your hip as you grind on him and then -

it’s your fault really, you reached up to brush your hair out of your face and the same time matthew reached up to do it for you

your hands knocked together and his finer catches on the ribbon thats looped through your mask

it falls into his lap and he stares at it for a moment, before staring at you

you’re looking at him with wide eyes, while he stares between you and the fallen mask

“you’re-”

“please don’t tell anyone!” you blurt out before he can say anything “please matthew don’t tell any of the team or anything, please, i’ll owe you whatever you want”

“woah, hey, relax,” matthew laughs, calming you by squeezing your now-still hips with his abnormally large hands “i wont tell anyone, its okay”

with an uncomfortable and short conversation about you doing this because you needed the money (and quickly shooting down matty’s offer to help you out, the two of you stumble through awkward goodbye’s

he double knots your mask for you this time, making sure it’s on tight before promising you your secret was safe and walking out the door

you pretend not to notice the tent in his pants that started growing the moment your mask fell off your face

you and matthew dance around each other for a few weeks, until some gala thing you were required to go

“the event is mandatory for all staff, even the interns. the organization will pay for all of your attire and transportation necessary to arrive at the banquet hall” your advisor had emailed you, making it clear you werent being given a choice here.

you showed up at this event dressed to the nines

your best friend had been in town visiting you when you had gone shopping for the event, refusing to let you wear something she deemed anything less then goddess-like apparently

matty doesnt see you at first, hes at the bar with his back to you

hes a few drinks in already cause like, he really doesnt wanna be here

and then elias shoves him in the shoulder, motioning with his head over matty’s shoulder

you watch as matty turns around, your mouth going dry at the burgundy suit, white shirt, and black tie he was wearing

his lips are parted, frozen in his spot

and really - you didnt mean to match with matty, you and your best friend had just seen the dress and fallen in love with it

until his friends chirping turns into sean shoving him again to get his attention

without even sparing a glance at his teammates matt is barreling for you

hes dodging higher ups and execs and reporters and everyone who wants to talk to him like it’s his goddamn job

you finally release a breath that youre holding when he reaches you

he grabs a hold of your hand, pulling you along as he weaves through the people

both of you catch your breath when youre finally out the door and into the garden area of the venue

“you said anything” matt says abruptly, turning to you

“what?” you say, confused, and matt wants to kiss the pout off your lips

“at the club,” he says, and your blood runs cold. “you said youd owe me anything i wanted if i kept your secret.”

you nod slowly, apprehensive of what his ask was going to be

“well, it’s you,” he repeats, sighing when you stare at him, not understanding what he wants

“i. want. you.” he punctuates every word with a step towards you. “you said anything but i’m letting you choose, let me take you home, or take you out, but any part of you that you’ll let me have, that’s what i want.”

hes towering over you now, his bright blue eyes darkening with every second his eyes roam your skin

it takes you a moment to find your voice, but you clear your throat and say

“how about both?”

a smile tugs at matty’s lips, and his hands slide around your waist

he leans down to your ear, whispering “both sounds just short of heaven pretty girl”

“what will it take to get you to heaven, mr. tkachuk?” you whisper against his mouth, arms looping around his neck

he chuckles darkly, stealing a kiss, then another, and another as he pulls you closer to his body

“let’s just say,” he hums, trailing kisses down your neck, “it definitely involves some of that flexibility i saw in the club that night”

and, well, you’re okay with that

#do yall want a smutty pt 2 to this hc #lmk #smut night #matthew tkachuk #matty #ratthew #calgary flames #nhl #hockey imagine #blurb #*concepts #hc

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flowerfan2 · 4 years

Text

One Night in Milwaukee - Chapter 3

David x Patrick, 10k so far, read on A03

Summary: Being stuck in the Milwaukee airport is bad enough. Then David realizes that the man who broke his heart is sitting right next to him.

Chapter 3

David says goodnight with a quick peck to Patrick’s cheek, and shuts himself in the hall bathroom, ostensibly to shower before bed. But before that he spends a while leaning his palms against the sink and taking slow, deep breaths in and out, trying to steady himself.

It’s been one of the most uncomfortable days of his life, and given his life, that’s really saying something. Within the past twenty-four hours he told Patrick he still loved him, Patrick said that he wanted them to be together, and a crowd of sleep-deprived strangers in the Milwaukee airport security line cheered as they kissed. Since then, David has felt like he has been walking a tightrope, waiting for his balance to fail him and send him crashing to the ground.

David knows that he can’t expect their relationship to snap back together like a puzzle, connected and perfect like it shines in his memory, at least not without some awkwardness along the way. And Patrick is injured and hurting, understandably not at his best. Even with all that, though, he can’t shake the feeling that something else is wrong.

He sits on the closed toilet and checks his phone. This afternoon he finally texted Alexis to tell her that he was in Florida with Patrick, which, not surprisingly, resulted in a flurry of messages. He really wants to talk to her and hear her voice, but the house isn’t that big and he doesn’t want Patrick to overhear him voice all his insecurities. Maybe he’ll call her when he goes out for a run tomorrow morning.

Alexis has apparently told his parents, who have sent both encouraging (his dad) and vaguely foreboding (his mom) well wishes. David sends back polite responses, not wanting to get into a detailed back and forth with either of them. Then he spends a few minutes sending instructions to his assistant purchaser at the motel group, and emails the director of operations to let him know that he’ll be taking a week off. It’s not as if he can’t work remotely, but he’d like to have the freedom to spend the time with Patrick, and he’s got plenty of vacation time saved up. At least taking care of this item on his mental list quiets his work-related anxiety for the time being.

Just a little while ago, sitting on the couch with Patrick, David had tried to raise the topic of exactly what they would be doing here in Clint and Marcy’s little retirement fantasy home, but Patrick had rebuffed his attempt. David doesn’t even know if Patrick has a job. Patrick only stayed in Schitt’s Creek for a few months after their break-up, and David’s pretty sure he took a consulting gig after that, but Stevie was light on the details.

As he thinks of Stevie, David’s fingers automatically find her name on his phone, and he considers filling her in, but he’s not sure how she’ll take it. His break-up with Patrick had caused a rift in his relationship with Stevie, one David has never been able to fully repair. Because of Stevie’s role in the motel group they kept working together, but they were never as close again as they used to be.

Stevie stayed in touch with Patrick, at least for a while, but they don’t talk about him. David didn’t press; he wasn’t entitled to know more. He plays out in his head Stevie’s likely reaction to the news of their reunion, and given all that he still doesn’t know about what’s going to happen, he decides not to contact her yet. He’d like to talk to Patrick about it first. He’d like to talk to Patrick about a lot of things.

David absolutely doesn’t mind spending time taking care of Patrick, like he did today. In another context, he would cherish it, being able to show the love of his life how much he cares. He knows Patrick is in pain, and not just from his wounds. It makes David physically ill to imagine what happened to him. He hopes Patrick is able to share more details with him sometime soon; he shouldn’t have to bear it alone.

David tries not to believe that Patrick’s distance today was some kind of test – he doesn’t think it was. Intentional or not, though, something is definitely off.

More than anything, David wants to reestablish their old connection. He felt it a few times, sparking across the distance like electricity, but mostly Patrick hadn’t seemed open to letting him in. They had been more in tune sitting in the darkened food court at the airport than they were on the couch this evening.

David sighs and stands up, opening the bathroom cabinets and poking around to see what kind of products the Brewers have on hand. He’s pleasantly surprised to see the Rose Apothecary label on the shampoo and conditioner, body milk and cleanser. While the newer items aren’t quite the same quality as the originals he and Patrick had first sourced (quality gave way a little bit to quantity, and price), they are still products David is proud to have his name on.

David spends a long time in the shower, which does make him feel marginally better. He towels off his hair, leaving styling to the morning, and scoots into the bedroom he’s staying in. He hasn’t unpacked yet, so he opens his suitcase up on the floor and finds clean boxer briefs. Unfortunately, the rest of his clothes really need to be laundered; he had thought he’d be back in Toronto yesterday evening, not on a spur of the moment trip to the land of sunshine and tourists.

He frowns as he pulls on a wrinkled black t-shirt and soft gray sleep pants. Regardless of what else happens tomorrow, he’s going to have to do his laundry.

The air conditioning comes on with an annoying whir, and David looks around, spotting a vent in the ceiling. The noise doesn’t bode well for getting any sleep tonight, although there’s nothing wrong with the rest of the room. While ostensibly Patrick’s, the bedroom has very few personal items in it, maybe in case the Brewers decided to rent out the house. The bureau drawers are mostly empty except for swim trunks and some sweatshirts, and the closet contains one windbreaker, two pairs of sneakers, and a vacuum cleaner.

There’s a fluffy white duvet on the bed, with a seafoam green sheet and matching pillowcases peeking out underneath. Not a very Patrick color-scheme. Marcy must have been going for some kind of Florida feel. David feels lucky the whole place isn’t covered in a Hawaiian flower print, although that would probably be more practical than white if they anticipate having strangers using their linens. The whole concept of renting out one’s home makes David cringe, although it’s no worse than living in a motel.

David climbs under the blanket and top sheet and closes his eyes. He makes himself stay there as the air conditioning cycles on and off two more times, and then gives up.

The house is quiet as David wanders around, taking a closer look at the rooms he saw earlier today. There are a few framed photographs on the desk in the office. The one of Patrick seems to be relatively recent, him and his dad outdoors. Patrick’s smiling, but he doesn’t look happy. There aren’t any of David and Patrick together, for obvious and yet still painful reasons.

David wonders what happened to all their mementos from Patrick’s apartment – the posters from Cabaret and the Apothecary’s open mic night, the ticket from the ropes course that they stuck on the refrigerator with a magnet. It would be nice to think that they are still boxed up safe somewhere, not tossed in the dumpster behind Bob’s Garage.

The open plan kitchen and living room is nice enough, and the couch is comfortable, covered in a safe tan twill with throw pillows in shades of white and blue. David draws the curtains open and looks out through the sliding glass doors to the back yard with its screened-in pool and lanai.

With a shudder, David reminds himself that the screens are to keep the alligators out. David knows this because he read it online this afternoon, waiting for Patrick to wake up from his nap. When David told Patrick he would brave the alligators for him, David imagined that this was only a theoretical danger, or perhaps one to be encountered on a wildlife tour of some kind, not one he would have to face every time he left the house to get the mail.

David messes around with the light switches by the door, and finds one that turns on a spotlight under the water in the pool. It’s pretty, lighting up the water and bathing the back yard in a gentle glow.

“It’s a little chilly for a swim,” Patrick says behind him, making him jump. The wall-to-wall carpet is thick, and apparently Patrick hasn’t lost his ability to sneak up on David.

“Oh god, sorry, did I wake you?” Maybe flashing the lights wasn’t such a smart idea.

“Nah, I couldn’t sleep anyway.” Patrick turns his face up towards David, and David is convinced that he’s going to kiss him, his heart racing in eager anticipation. But Patrick’s face shifts into sadness, and he looks away.

“Patrick?” David reaches out and touches his fingers to Patrick’s bare arm. “What’s wrong?” He doesn’t say “besides the obvious,” because he can tell that it really isn’t necessary. And he thinks Patrick wouldn’t have come out here if he wasn’t ready to talk about whatever he’s been holding back.

“I have to tell you something,” Patrick says, crossing his arms over his chest and then, noticing, deliberately uncrossing them.

“Okay…”

Patrick bites his lip. “I’m afraid to say it.”

David feels a shiver run through him. “You’re afraid?”

“Yeah.” Patrick looks defeated.

“Why?”

Patrick shakes his head and turns away from David, leaning on the back of an armchair. “Because you’ll leave. And I don’t want you to go.”

David closes his eyes and tilts his head back. “Obviously I don’t want me to go either, Patrick. That’s why I’m here.” He tugs at Patrick’s shoulder, turning him so he can see his face. “I promise I won’t go anywhere. But if you take much longer to tell me, we may well have a panic attack situation here on top of everything else, and I’d really rather not add that to today’s list of events.”

Patrick stares at him, eyes wide, and David just wants to take him in his arms and tell him everything will be all right. But it’s clear that Patrick can’t be so easily convinced, and frankly, until David knows what the hell is going on, David isn’t so sure himself.

Patrick moves to the couch, and David follows him, sitting on the coffee table and putting his hands on Patrick’s knees.

“I didn’t cheat,” Patrick says, and David frowns.

“I know that now. You said so yesterday. I believe you.”

“I didn’t cheat,” Patrick says again, “but I think Mark wanted me to. He was flirting with me, and I didn’t stop him.”

“You’re cute. People flirt with you, there’s not much you can do about it.”

Patrick looks at him briefly and then away. “I could have not flirted back.”

David digs around in his head for the right thing to say, but all of the sex-positive, trusting relationship language he comes up with sounds hollow in the context of Patrick’s guilt-laden confession.

“Well, um, harmless flirting isn’t a big deal. It’s nice to feel wanted,” he tries.

“David. It wasn’t harmless.”

“What do you mean?”

Patrick peels David’s hands off his knees and takes them in his own. “It wasn’t harmless because it hurt you. It hurt us.”

“But if I had known you didn’t mean anything by it-”

“That’s just it, you didn’t know. Because I didn’t tell you. I wouldn’t have felt so guilty about it if there was nothing wrong with it. I wouldn’t have worked so hard to hide it. At the same time we were planning our wedding, I was creating an opportunity to let another man flirt with me. I knew if you met Mark you’d suspect something. I told him to come to the store for training when I knew you’d be out visiting vendors.”

Patrick’s practically babbling now, his words tumbling out. It’s so unlike Patrick’s usual calm demeanor, it makes what he’s saying even more unsettling.

David struggles to find an angle where Patrick’s behavior is okay. He’s done it before, made excuses for partners who toed or crossed the line, but he doesn’t know how to do it with Patrick. He slowly pulls his hands out of Patrick’s and stands up, stepping backwards with a hand over his mouth.

“I’m so sorry,” Patrick says. “Please, don’t go.”

“I’m not going anywhere. Just give me a minute.” David feels ill, but he knows there has to be a way through this. His mind is spinning, but he’s not leaving, he’s not, he’s going to figure this out. “Were you planning on – doing anything with him?”

There’s a moment when David thinks Patrick is going to say yes, yes, I wanted him to kiss me, but then Patrick is in front of him, his face open and vulnerable. “No, absolutely not.”

“Were you having some kind of… naughty cheating fantasy?”

“No,” Patrick says firmly. “You remember the Ken incident. I didn’t want anyone else. Then or now.”

“And yet…”

“I know,” Patrick says, reaching out to wrap his hands gently over David’s biceps. “I can’t explain it.”

They stand there in the dark kitchen, both of them breathing heavily. Patrick slides his arms around David and pulls him in, until David’s head is resting on his shoulder. David lets Patrick hold him, comforted by his touch even now.

“I’m so sorry, David. I thought about it so many times, after you left. I convinced myself that I didn’t cheat – and I didn’t, not physically. But what I did wasn’t <i>right,</i> either. It felt wrong to me, and you picked up on that, and that’s why you thought I was cheating.”

“But what you said in the airport-” David’s voice catches, and he has to stop and suck in a breath. “You made it seem like it was all my fault.”

“That was not my proudest moment.”

David forces himself to straighten up and step away from Patrick, wrapping his arms around his own body. Patrick holds his gaze, tears streaking his cheeks. Patrick lied to him – maybe not three years ago, when David didn’t give him a chance to explain, but just last night, in the airport. <i>But he’s telling the truth now,</i> David thinks. He’s put all his cards on the table, and he’s waiting for the other shoe to drop - for David to leave. To give up on them.

But the thing is, David doesn’t want to drop the shoe. He doesn’t want this to be the end. He’s not done with Patrick – he tried that, and it was the worst decision he ever made.

Patrick isn’t just another one of David’s exes. He’s not someone who was willing to take and take from David and never give in return. David simply can’t believe that of Patrick. It’s not who he is. Patrick gave David everything.

“If when I confronted you that day, back at the store, I had let you explain,” David says carefully, “we’d essentially be right here, wouldn’t we?”

Patrick’s eyes widen, and he nods. “Well, not in Florida, but, yeah. More or less.”

“So…” David closes his eyes and lets himself feel, the pain and the hope and the love, all whirling around in his chest. “If that’s the case,” he opens his eyes and reaches for Patrick, his hands landing on his shoulders, “then we can just start from here, minus the overreacting, and figure it out.”

Patrick chokes out a wet laugh. “We can?”

“I think so. I’d like that.” David watches Patrick’s eyes as they light up.

“David, I’d really like that too.”

David leans in, cupping his hand around Patrick’s head and bringing him close for a tear-stained kiss. David’s not sure that the odds are great for them this time around, but if there’s any chance at all, David’s going to take it.

#Schitt's Creek #Schitt's Creek Fic #David x Patrick #David Rose #Patrick Brewer

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innittowinit · 4 years

Text

Abandoned amusement parks are the best place for young children (chapter 7)

AO3

Fic summary:

Techno, Tommy, Wilbur and Phil have been hanging out at the abandoned amusement park in the woods since they moved in. Techno likes knowing he's definitely alone with his brothers Tommy likes climbing on the old rides Wilbur likes having a place to play his music Phil likes spending time with his younger brothers

That is, until a group of brothers calling themselves the 'dream team' move in down the road. Will the sleepy boys give in and share the park or will they succeed in scaring the new kids off?

Chapter summary

Dream recounts what happened today to Bad and their mom Wilbur comforts Techno

chapter word count: 1704 (sorry its another inbetween chapter)

Dream snickered as he leaned back in his chair, a half eaten ham and cheese sandwich sitting idly on his plate. He had his mask lifted up so it sat atop his head, showing his freckled cheeks and and reddish cheeks.

“That was a fun game, they were playing along this time”

He reached for a packet crisps, only to drop his hand and pick the sandwich back up when Bad gave him a disapproving look; they all wanted to make Bad proud, he wasn’t around often anymore but when he was here it was great.

It didn’t really feel like home when he was off at school.

Playing with the sleepy boys had been fun though, he mulled over the events of the day as he chewed on the childish meal, the sun was still high in the sky and he doubted it was past 2pm at all.

Phil didn’t seem like he wanted to play, for a moment Dream wondered if Phil just didn’t like playing anymore, he was the oldest afterall, but he quickly shook the thought from his mind. Why else would he still turn up to L’manburg with his brothers?

No, Phil definitely enjoyed it, he was probably just tired today, sometimes even his own brothers didn’t like playing Manhunt if they had had a long day.

He remembered buying the fun snaps, it had been a little nerve wracking but he needed them for the plan to work! He had had to lie about how old he was for the shopkeeper to give them to him, he didn’t ask for ID though so he guessed the old man running the place also didn’t see the point in having an age limit to buy a toy. While they were going through their plan first, Sapnap had said he wanted to blow it up.

Obviously they couldn't do that.

And so they decided on fun snaps and their ‘weapons’. At least this way they’d still get shocked by the noise of the snaps going off anyway, it wasn’t like they wanted to cause any real harm, he didn’t want to lose any more potential friends because of the ways he had fun.

“We actually got into L’manburg today” Sap laughed, hair dusted with sandy dirt from when he had been pushed to the floor.

His sandwich had been toasted to make the cheese melty and he was dipping it in a Tomato cup-a-soup. As far as Dream was concerned, that was single handedly the worst food combination ever made and he deserved to be pushed over for eating like that.

“I hope you guys aren’t playing too rough out there, those Reid kids have a littl’un right?”

Nodding, Dream shoved the rest of his lunch into his mouth, chewing it as much as he could before giving up and just speaking with his mouth full anyways.

“Yeah Tommys like really small, we aren’t playing too rough though Ma, they’re cool with it, I promise! Even Sap and George like them”

Once she had finished preparing her own lunch, she sat with her kids; they were so rowdy, it would be a straight lie if she said she didn’t worry about their safety sometimes but she supposed boys would just be boys, no amount of sports clubs or extracurricular activities had ever quenched their need to run about and hit each other with sticks.

What was fun about hitting each other, she had no idea, but hopefully they’d grow out of it before they seriously hurt themselves or someone else

“That’s nice to hear then, I’m glad you boys are making new friends, I know it can be difficult adapting to new places-”

“Nah mum it’s easy!” Sapnap had cut her off, hand in a bag of crisps since he had finished his meal, despite how much Bad tried to influence healthy eating decisions.

“That’s nice sweetheart, some people find it hard though! Hey! You know what could be cute? If you take Bad down to meet your buddies, you said they had an older brother around his age too right?”

Dream groaned, feigning annoyance as he glanced over to his brother, while like Phil, Bad still cared about them a whole lot, they didn’t really have the almost-replacement-parent kind of dynamic that the sleepy bois had with their older sibling. He didn’t really understand that, Bad was two years older than him and the way they thought and rationalised things was about the same level, so why did his new friends seem to treat their older brother like a grown up?

Even though they were a bit weird, they were nice and they were fun to play with, so eventually he nodded, it would be so much fun having Bad there to fight with them. It felt like it had been ages since they all played together.

“I think they’re playing something else now, we can all go tomorrow after school if you want”

With a shrug and a flippant smile, Bad had at last agreed to go meet his mischievous brother’s new friends. If the scar on George’s cheek was anything to go off though, it seemed like they were a lot more ill-disciplined than his boys were.

Or at least that’s what he liked to think.

--------

“Phil didn’t mean to hurt you” Wilbur mumbled as they walked hand-in-hand to the old pool where they spent so much of their time together, gently lowering himself in and then helping Techno in afterwards.

The two sat idly against the curved wall, sitting in comfortable silence as Wilbur waited for Techno to sort his thoughts out.

“It still hurts” With a voice as quiet and weak as his was right now, anyone who had bothered to stay around long enough to hear his voice, absolutely wouldn't think this was him.

The assertive, confident way he normally would speak to his brothers long forgotten as he gingerly swallowed the lump in his throat.

He felt invalidated, ignored, humiliated.

Why did Phil have to bring up the one thing he couldn’t argue with him on? He had got hit harder than Tommy! Why did he only care about Tommy?

With a heavy chest and an aching arm, he rested his head on his brother’s shoulder, just wanting some comfort but not really knowing how to put his feelings into words. Thankfully, Wilbur seemed to recognise this rare moment and gently wrapped an arm around him.

“Do you think….” He trailed off into a murmur after that, prompting Wilbur to remind him he needed to use his words

“Do you think that deep down...maybe Phil thinks I’m weird too? It’s weird to be this shy isn’t it? I’m supposed to have grown out of it by now right?”

His voice sounded frantic and panicked, breaths punctuated his sentences as he spilled his emotions into the empty pool. Gentle hands pulled him into a hug and he was tight against Wilbur’s chest, being reminded once again that even if he felt bad himself, his family would always save the day.

“...well I think objectively it is a bit weird that we’re both this attached, and we should be able to be able to do these things that other kids our age can but just because what we have is a little funky doesn’t mean you're weird. If it was normal we wouldn’t have a speech therapist but I don't think it's bad, the other kids in our classes always talk about hating their siblings and stuff. I’m glad none of us are like that.” Wilbur tried his very best to articulate how he felt, a lot of the feelings he wanted to explain, he didn’t have the words to describe, and so he was left with small comparisons and metaphors.

He didn’t bother saying them, if he was struggling with saying them he might accidentally say something that could hurt his brother more.

“I don't think Phil thinks you're weird either. I think he’s frustrated, he works so hard to make sure we’re all okay and we don’t always show him that we appreciate it. I think maybe he’s scared for you, he knows it’s hard for you to talk and with him getting mad it probably came out wrong. He probably wants you to get better really bad and I bet it’s hard for him to watch you struggle and not be able to help. That doesn’t make what he said okay but I do think you should talk to him and try to find out why he said what he said”

Techno nodded, he felt a bit guilty for being so mad at Phil now, he cared so much about them and he had got his little brother hurt.

Even though he felt guilty, he still felt hurt though and maybe it was childish but he didn't care. He wanted to strop and huff and ignore everyone.

Before today he didn’t even realise it was possible to want to fall out of the earth and want to be cuddled by all his favourite people, simultaneously.

“I think you’ll feel better if you talk to Phil though, you wont need to make up theories on why he said it anymore than you already have.”

Another nod, he knew confrontation was inevitable but he wanted to sit here a bit longer, with the shade from the trees and low hanging vines, to the roaring hot sun, it just felt so much better to try and think through his feelings here rather than having to think it all out while he was actually having the conversation with Phil.

“It’s hard” An almost exasperated sigh left his lips “I know Tommy’s just the priority because he’s the youngest. I love him too, so so much, but he didn’t even check to see if I got hurt though. He saw I wasn’t able to protect Tommy and he got mad.

“Today, Phil was tired and stressed and he said some really stupid things but Tech’ I can’t tell you what he meant by them, I’m telling you all these questions would be solved so much faster if we just went and spoke to him.”

“..okay let's go”

#techno #wilbur #technoblade #wilbur soot #dream #sapnap #georgenotfound #badboyhalo #fanfic #hurt/ comfort

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greatfay · 4 years

Note

controversial opinions?

Cold pizza actually not good. Tastes like angry bacteria.

There’s a completely separate class of gay men who are in a different, rainbow-tinted plane of reality from the rest of us and I don’t like them. They push for “acceptance” via commercialization of the Pride movement, assimilation through over-exposure, and focus on sexualizing the movement to be “provocative” and writing annoying articles that reek of class privilege instead of something actually important like lgbtqa youth homelessness, job discrimination, and mental health awareness.

Coleslaw is good. You guys just suck in the kitchen.

Generational divides ARE real: a 16-year-old and a 60-year-old right now in 2021 could agree on every hot button sociopolitical topic and yet not even realize it because they communicate in entirely different ways.

Sam Wilson is a power bottom. No I will not elaborate.

Allison’s makeover in The Breakfast Club good, not bad. She kept literally and metaphorically dumping her trash out onto the table and it’s clearly a cry for help. Having the attention and affection of a smart, pretty girl doing her makeup for her was sweet and helped her open up to new experiences. Not every loner wants to BE a loner (see: Bender, who is fine being a lone wolf).

Movie/show recommendations that start with a detailed “representation” list read like status-effecting gear in an RPG and it’s actually a turn-off for me. I have to force myself to give something a try in spite of it.

Yelling at people to just “learn a new language” because clearly everyone who isn’t you and your immediate vicinity of friends must be a lazy ignorant white American is so fucking stupid, like I get it, you’re mad someone doesn’t immediately know how to pronounce your name or what something means. But I know 2 languages and am struggling with a 3rd when I can between 2 jobs and quite frankly, I don’t have the time to just absorb the entire kanji system into my brain to learn Japanese by tomorrow night, or suddenly learn Arabic or Welsh. There are 6500 recorded languages in the world, what’s the chance that one of 3 I’ve learn(ed?) is the one you’re yelling at me about. Yes this is referring to that post yelling at people for not knowing how to pronounce obscure Irish names and words. Sometimes just explaining something instead of admonishing people for not knowing something inherently in the belief that everyone must be lazy entitled privileged people is uh... better?

Stop fucking yelling at people. I despise feeling like someone is yelling at me or scolding me, it triggers my Violence Mode, you don’t run me, you are not God, fuck off. Worst fucking way to "educate” people, it just feels good in the moment to say or write and doesn’t help. Yes I’ve done it before.

Violence is good actually.

Characters doing bad things ≠ an endorsement of bad things. Characters doing bad things that are unquestioned by the entire rest of the cast = endorsement of bad things, or at the least, a power fantasy by the creator. See: Glee, in which Sue’s awfulness is constantly called out, while Mr. Shue’s awfulness rarely is because he’s “the hero.” See also: the Lightbringer series, in which the protagonist is a violent manipulator who is praised as clever, charming, diplomatic, and genius by every supporting character (enemies included), despite the text never demonstrating such.

Euphoria is good, actually. It falls into this niche of the past decade of “dark gritty teen shows” but actually has substance behind it, but the general vibe I get from passive-aggressive tumblr posts from casual viewers is that this show is The Devil, and the criticism of its racier content screams pearl-clutching “what about the children??” to me.

Describing all diagnosed psychopaths as violent criminals is a damaging slippery slope, sure. But I won’t be mad at anyone for inherently distrusting another human who does not have the ability to feel guilt and remorse, empathy, is a pathological liar, or proves to be cunning and manipulative.

It’s actually not easy to unconditionally support and love everyone everywhere when you’ve actually experienced the World. Your perspective and values will be challenged as you encounter difficult people, experience hardship, are torn between conflicting ideas and commitments, and fail. My vow to never ever call the cops on another black person was challenged when an employee’s boyfriend marched into the kitchen OF AN ESTABLISHMENT to scream at her, in a BUSINESS I MANAGED, and threaten to BEAT the SHIT out of her. Turns out I can hate cops and hate that motherfucker equally, I am more than capable of both.

Defending makeup culture bad, actually. Enjoy it, experiment, master it, but don’t paint it as something other than upholding exactly what they want from you. Even using makeup to “defy the heteropatriarchal oppressors!” is still putting cash in their pockets, no matter how camp...

Not every villain needs to be redeemed, some of you just never outgrew projecting yourself onto monsters and killers.

Writing teams and networks queerbaiting is not the same as individuals queerbaiting. Nick Jonas performing exclusively at gay clubs to generate an audience really isn’t criminal; if they paid to go see him, that’s on them, he didn’t promise anyone anything other than music and a show. Do not paint this as similar to wealthy, bigoted executives and writing teams trying to snatch up the LGBTQA demographic with vague ass marketing and manipulative screenplays, only to cop out so as not to alienate their conservative audiences. And ESPECIALLY when the artists/actors/creators accused of queerbaiting or lezploitation then come out as queer in some form later on.

Queer is not a bad word, and I’ve no clue how that remains one of few words hurled at LGBTQA people that can’t be reclaimed. It’s so archaic and underused at this point that I don’t get the reaction to it compared to others.

People who defend grown-woman Lorelai Gilmore’s childish actions and in the same breath heavily criticize teenage religious abuse victim Lane Kim’s actions are not to be trusted. Also Lane deserved better.

Keep your realism out of my media, or at least make it tonally consistent. Tired of shows and movies and books where some gritty, dark shit comes out of nowhere when the narrative was relatively Romantic beforehand.

Actually people should be writing characters different from themselves, this new wave in the past year of “If you aren’t [X] you shouldn’t be writing [X]” is a complete leap backward from the 2010s media diversity movement. And if [X] has to do with an invisible minority status (not immediately visible disabilities, or diverse sexual orientations and gender identities, persecuted religious affiliations, mental illness) it’s actually quite fucked up to assume the creator can’t be whatever [X] is or to demand receipts or details of someone’s personal life to then grant them “permission” to create something. I know, we’re upset an actual gay actor wasn’t casted to play this gay character, so let’s give them shit about it: and not lose a wink of sleep when 2 years later, this very actor comes out and gives a detailed account of the pressure to stay closeted if they wanted success in Hollywood.

Projecting an actor’s personal romantic life and gender identity onto the characters they play is actually many levels of fucked up, and not cute or funny. See: reinterpreting every character Elliot Page has played through a sapphic lens, and insulting his ability to play straight characters while straight actors play actual caricatures of us (See also: Jared Leto. Fuck him).

I’m fucking sick of DaBaby, he sucks. “I shot somebody, she suck my peepee” that’s 90% of whatever he raps about.

“Political Correctness” is not new. It was, at one point, unacceptable to walk into a fine establishment and inform the proprietor that you love a nice firm pair of tits in your face. 60 years ago, such a statement would get you throw out and possibly arrested under suspicion of public intoxication. But then something happened and I blame Woodstock and Nixon. And now I have to explain to a man 40 years my senior that no, you can’t casually mention to the staff here, many of whom are children, how you haven’t had a good fuck in a while. And then rant about the “Chinese who gave us the virus.” Can’t be that upset with them if you then refused to wear your mask for 20 minutes.

Triggering content should not have a blanket ban; trigger warnings are enough, and those who campaign otherwise need to understand the difference between helping people and taking away their agency. 13 Reasons Why inspired this one. Absolutely shitty show, sure, but it’s a choice to watch it knowing exactly what it contains.

Sasuke’s not a fucking INTJ, he’s an ISFP whose every decision is based off in-the-moment feelings and proves incapable of detailed and logical planning to accomplish his larger goals.

MCU critique manages to be both spot-on and pointless. Amazing stories have been told with these characters over the course of decades; but most of it is toilet paper. Expecting a Marvel movie to be a deeply detailed examination of American nationalism and imperialism painted with a colorful gauze of avant-garde film technique is like expecting filet mignon from McDonalds. Scarf down your quarter pounder or gtfo.

Disparagingly comparing the popularity and (marginal) success of BLM to another movement is anti-black. It is not only possible but also easy to ask for people’s support without throwing in “you all supported BLM for black people but won’t show support for [insert group]” how about you keep our name out your mouth? Black people owe the rest of the world nothing tbh until yall root out the anti-blackness in your own communities.

It is the personal demon/tragic flaw of every cis gay/bi/pan man to externalize and exorcize Shame: I’m talking about the innate compulsion to Shame, especially in the name of Pride and Progress. Shame for socioeconomic “success,” shame for status of outness, shame for fitness and health, shame for looks, shame for style and dress, shame for how one fits into the gender binary, shame for sexual positions and intimacy preferences, shame for fucking music tastes. Put down the weapon that They used to beat you. Becoming the Beater is not growth, it’s the worst-case scenario.

Works by minorities do not have to be focused on their marginalized identities. Some ladies want to ride dragons AND other ladies. The pressure on minorities to create the Next Great Minority Character Study that will inevitably get snuffed at the Oscars/Peabody Awards is some bullshit when straight white dudes walk around shitting out mediocre screenplays and books.

Canadians can stfu about how the US is handling COVID-19 actually. Love most of yall, but the number of Canadian snowbirds on vacation (VACATION??? VA.CAT.ION.) in the supposed “hotbed” of my region that I’ve had to inform our mask policies and social distancing to is ASTOUNDING. Incroyable! I guess your country has a sizable population of entitled, privileged, inconsiderate, wealthy, and ignorant people making things difficult for everyone, just like mine :)

No trick to eliminate glasses fog while wearing my mask has worked, not a single one, it actually has affected my job and work speed and is incredibly frustrating, and I have to deal with it and pretend it’s not a problem while still encouraging others to follow the rules for everyone’s safety and the cognitive dissonance is driving me insane.

It’s really really really not anti-Japanese... to be uncomfortable with the rampant pedophilia in manga and anime, and voice this. I really can’t compare western animation’s sneakier bullshit with pantyshots of a 12-year-old girl.

Most of the people in the cottagecore aesthetic/tag have zero interest in all the hard work that comes with maintaining an isolated property in the countryside, milking cows and tending crops before sunrise, etc. And that’s okay? They just like flowers and pretty pottery and homemade pastries. Idk where discourse about this came from.

You think mint chip ice-cream tastes like toothpaste because you’re missing a receptor that can distinguish the flavors, and that sucks for you. It’s a sort of “taste-blindness” that can make gum spicy to some while others can eat a ghost pepper without crying.

Being a spectacle for the oppressive class doesn’t make them respect us, it makes them unafraid of us. This means they continue to devour us, but without fear of our retaliation.

Only like 4 people on tumblr dot com are actually prepared for the full ramifications of an actual revolution. The rest of you just really imprinted onto Katniss, or grew up in the suburbs.

Straight crushes are normal. They’re people first, sexual orientation second. Can’t always know.

The road to body positivity is not easy, especially if what you desire is what you aren’t.

You’re actually personally responsible for not voluntarily bringing yourself into an environment that you know is not fit for you unless you have the resolve to manage it. Can’t break a glass ceiling without getting a few cuts. This one’s a shoutout to my homophobic temp coworkers who decided working a venue with a drag show would be a good idea. This is also is a shoutout to people who want to make waves but are surprised when the boat tips. And also a shoutout to people who—wait that’s it’s own controversial opinion hold up.

Straight people can and should stay the fuck out of gay bars and queer spaces. “yoUrE bEInG diVisiVe” go fuck yourself.

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brief-candle · 5 years

Text

αℓεα ιαcтα εsт - various kny x reader [1]

reuploaded bc my tumblr is being stinky >:(( update: still being stinky. for some reason this isn’t showing up in any tags no matter what i do and i’m so confused? bc the second chapter’s showing up??? idk :/

also was wondering if y’all would be interested in seeing some art that i do sometimes, bc i’ve kinda been getting back into drawing lately!

THIS IS A YANDERE SERIES. JUST SO YOU KNOW. I WILL WARN OF ANY TRIGGER WARNINGS IN FUTURE CHAPTERS, BUT THIS ONE’S NICE AND TAME!! TY FOR READING AND HAVE A WONDERFUL DAY!! <3

GENERAL OTHER STUFF TO KNOW BEFORE YOU READ: MC (READER) IS FEMALE; THERE IS A BUNCH OF CANON DIVERGENCE; MANGA-ONLY CHARACTERS WILL APPEAR IN LATER CHAPTERS, THOUGH I DON’T PLAN TO DEAL WITH ANY PLOT ELEMENTS THAT DON’T APPEAR IN THE ANIME.

edit: chapter 2 is out!!

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ♫ ⋅.} ───── ⊰

The sun was high in the sky, beating down on the trio that were treading unfamiliar ground. The scenery looked very much like that which they'd seen countless times before, but that was to be expected to an extent. They were in the same country that they'd always been in, after all, however that didn't alleviate the sense that something was amiss in these parts. These parts that were so close to where they'd always been, yet seemed so completely and utterly different all at once.

"Tanjirou...!" One of them wailed, as usual. He was already a couple of paces behind, but had really began to drag his feet over the last couple of metres. Though this behaviour was very much usual for the wailer, Tanjirou didn't act annoyed in the slightest. Not that such a thing was surprising in any way- Tanjirou was too patient and kind for his own good sometimes.

He turned to face the boy, who was barely making an effort to catch up, while the third begrudgingly stopped also. With eyebrows slightly furrowed in concern, he asked: "what's wrong, Zenitsu?"

Zenitsu- the wailer- was huffing and puffing when he finally made it over to Tanjirou. It appeared difficult to even stand up straight, as he wavered and wobbled with each slight and rare gust of wind.

Still wheezing, he gasped out a desperate question, "are we nearly there yet?"

Tanjirou stared at him for a moment in silence, before sighing deeply.

"Hey- what was that for?!" Although completely out of breath just a moment earlier, it seemed that his energy had been restored enough to begin to screech. It was whiny and hurt the ears, though that was probably its purpose, knowing Zenitsu. It was no wonder why he couldn't get married when he began to speak using such a tone of voice; it truly was grating on the ears. Never mind his whiny begging, clinging, desperate tone and actions mixed with his general perversion. If you happened to be feminine and breathing, chances are Zenitsu was interested.

But I digress.

Their companion snorted before erupting into a fit of mean-spirited cackling at the blond's outburst, having held it back from even his initial whining. This only served to fuel Zenitsu's irritation, leading to his pitch raising and voice increasing in volume as he began to (attempt to) berate the boar-headed male.

"Zenitsu..." oh dear, it seems that Tanjirou is tired of this situation. He even pulled out the 'I'm not mad, just disappointed' tone of voice and expression.

Zenitsu noticed this immediately, quieting down very soon after, only to pipe up with a, "yes?"

"This is the third time that you've asked in five minutes."

"And?!" And suddenly, his enthusiasm that he could have been putting into walking and actually getting somewhere instead of simply complaining returned with a vengeance, arms flailing with fury as he did so, "we've been walking since dawn, and you're telling me that we're not there yet?!"

Tanjirou nodded.

"No way...!" His voice lingered long after he'd collapsed to the ground, lying there like a starfish and staring at the sky with a gaze like that of a dead fish.

"Hey, Zenitsu, are you alright?" Tanjirou- bless his cotton socks- had asked without a moment's hesitation as soon as it had happened. However he did make a very strange noise of confusion soon after, if that counts for anything. Either way, though, he was still staring down at his friend with a very worried face. Their friend, on the other hand, only began to snicker louder at such a display.

"This is the end for me, Tanjirou." Said Zenitsu, not even glancing in Tanjirou's direction as he did so. Each word was monotonous, too even in tone to be from Zenitsu. "You must go on without mE-"

His even-toned speaking evolved into a high-pitched shriek as he was dragged up and slung over the shirtless male's shoulder- him still cackling- before the latter began to sprint away.

"Hey, Inosuke-!"

"INOSUKE, PUT ME DOWN, STOPSTOPSTOPSTOP--"

Tanjirou didn't even have time to sigh again before he had to sprint after them, lest he get left behind. Though even if he did, he supposed it would be easy to find them without even having to sniff them out, with the obnoxious laughter and the terrified screaming. For such a normal, kindhearted boy, he certainly had some strange friends.

They kept running along the path until the sun flew over them, now threatening to disappear beyond even more hills. However the scenery here was rather different, with large fields of grass to the left and crops growing to the right. It was well-organised and looked well-maintained, however Tanjirou didn't even want to know how many people would have to work so rigorously to maintain the land.

"Oh, are you boys demon slayers by any chance?"

It was sudden, abrupt, and caught all three of them off guard. Perhaps if it didn't sound so gentle and feminine then they'd have reacted a bit more quickly and with a bit more force. However they were glad they didn't when they saw the owner of the voice: a young woman, ordinary-looking by all means, but with a certain twinkle in her eyes that looked very amused by what had just happened. And for good reason, too, as one had screamed, one had turned so quickly that it was surprising that their neck didn't snap, and the other grunted. Except it was more of a surprised grunt if anything. Though it was extremely hard to tell the difference between each type of grunt.

"Did I scare you? I'm terribly sorry." She bowed politely as she spoke, each word matching her reserved and respectful demeanour. However she clearly wasn't adept enough at hiding how much enjoyment she'd gotten out of witnessing such strange reactions, as the corners of her mouth struggled to not turn upwards.

"No, no, it's fine; there's certainly no need for a lovely lady like yourself to apologise!" Of course, this was Zenitsu speaking, having recovered rather quickly from his screech that was much more ladylike than any lady that the other two had come across. It was clear that he wanted to move on from that as soon as possible, in some vain hope that this person might be the one that was sympathetic enough to marry him. So far, he'd had no luck. And he was growing more desperate by the minute.

But as he tried to grow closer, he was soon flung a couple of metres away in an instant. Such an event was followed by the woman's scolding voice. However, for once, it wasn't Zenitsu getting scolded. Instead, in an unlikely turn of events, it was something getting scolded for his sake. Every now and again into her scolding session, a whinny attempted to be heard, only to result in even more scolding. Tanjirou and Inosuke only looked on, minds just as blank as their faces. What does one do in such a situation?

Well, upon realising that Zenitsu was bleeding, Tanjirou very quickly decided to try and help him. Inosuke merely watched on for a moment, before making a sound of awe and withdrawing his swords from their sheaths with a rather terrifying cackle,

"What a beast! If I can take it down, then-"

"Please don't try and fight my horse."

"Inosuke!"

-----------

It had taken a while to sort everything out, so much so that nightfall was but minutes away. Thankfully, even after the Inosuke incident, the woman had been willing to let them stay in her house for the night, perhaps more if Zenitsu needed extra rest. His friends already knew that he'd play on the illness card just to continue trying to court the poor girl, but it was something that they simply couldn't hope to change.

"She's really kind, isn't she?" Zenitsu gushed to them in the shared room that had been provided, "giving us all this stuff, even after what Inosuke tried to pull." It was impossible to miss the annoyance lacing his voice as he mentioned Inosuke, who had now taken off the board head and was lying on the best futon available. Not because he deserved it, but because he refused to move off it for Zenitsu who, despite his ulterior motives to his injury, was indeed injured.

At that, Tanjirou grew curious, "Inosuke, have you never seen a horse before?"

"Horse? You mean that thing that Zenitsu lost against? 'Course not!"

'Course not?

"Inosuke..." Oh, how Tanjirou wanted to explain everything wrong with what was just said, but that would require too much time and too much energy for the night. A night which had followed a hectic day which was extremely tiring.

He glanced over at the box he'd been carrying all day, lips pursed slightly to accompany a conflicted expression. Was it alright for Nezuko to come out here, when their host could walk in at any second? It would be difficult to explain their situation, especially to someone who may have lost their entire family to a demon. It could also be dangerous to Nezuko to be put in such a position. And so he shuffled over to the box, opting to sit near it rather than to open it.

"Sorry, Nezuko," he murmured, patting the wooden walls of the box carefully, "but you'll have to stay in there for a bit. I'm sure I can let you out for a bit tomorrow, if we're still here."

Inside the box, there was a bit of shuffling to be heard. But soon after was an acknowledging grunt, one which Tanjirou thanked her for, face forming a bright and beaming smile. It was just in time that he'd shuffled back to his futon, as the woman knocked upon the door and entered very soon after. The relief he felt knowing that he had narrowly avoided a sticky situation was immense, though he had to admit that he felt a little bit nervous when thinking of what could have so easily taken place instead.

"Sorry to interrupt," she said, a tray in her hands. Immediately after shutting the door behind her, she placed the tray on a nearby table, sitting beside it. "I made some tea, if you'd like some. I figured it'd been a long day for you all, so I decided to make some tea to help soothe the body and mind." Her words were spun like silk, with a quality to her voice like warm honey. The tea merely became one of the many aromas which wafted around the house, mingling and mixing to form one very odd (and quite overpowering) smell.

Zenitsu was (predictably) the first to join her, singing her praises to the heavens. She merely accepted them with the humility and grace that they'd come to expect from her, and so they all began to sip their tea in comfortable silence.

That is, until she was the one to shatter the comfortable atmosphere.

"I'm sorry for how abrupt it may be for me to say this," she started with, glancing briefly into each of their eyes before returning it back downwards to her own cup. It was held between her hands, and she squeezed it ever so slightly before continuing, "but I fear I must ask, lest anything undesirable occurs."

After one more sip, which felt so drawn out that it was as if she had sipped it until it was all gone, she began to elaborate: "Please, no matter what you hear, do not go out after nightfall."

That was certainly not what they were expecting to hear, especially being demon slayers. Their whole occupation was to fight demons, which required them to go out at night. It was safe to say that such a thing was a very odd request. Even if she had phrased it more like a demand.

Indeed, as she began to speak of that which she wished of them, her voice seemed to drop the kindness that they'd grown to associate with it. The honey that she wound into each word was cut loose, leaving that which she said with a bitter taste in their mouths.

Well, not Inosuke's. He, after chugging the rest of his tea (which was still very much piping hot), asked with little to no hesitation: "Why?"

The girl clearly wasn't expecting this, blinking owlishly twice before repeating the question with a slight tilt of the head.

"Yeah- why not? We're demon slayers, after all, so it's not as if the demons pose a threat." As usual, Inosuke was cocky and boisterous in everything that he did. His words were drowned in such an attitude, his movements were made from them, his expressions screaming them. Still, it did little to affect her, who sharply poked a hole in what he'd said without a moment's delay.

"Really? Then does Kibutsuji Muzan not pose a threat? Or the Demon Moons?" This time, even her eyes had dropped the gentle and kind mirth to them. It was difficult to recall the last time that she'd blinked as she sat there, the sharp colours found in her irises standing out much more in the dim candlelight as she bore holes into he who spoke against her.

Before he could speak up again, she rose to her feet, staring down at them all. Perhaps it was the fiery and temperamental glow of the candlelight rather than the calm and natural light from the sun that accentuated the tense atmosphere- so tense that perhaps a knife could not even slice through it. Perhaps it was also the lighting that made her seem much more ominous than she had at any other moment, that made the scowl she wore more menacing than it would be. It would have been a question as to whether she'd been scowling at all, whether her lip had been curled that much and her eyebrows furrowed so deeply that the skin between them crinkled, had she not spoken so coldly and with a tone so clipped.

"There is a difference between confidence and foolishness. Perhaps it would be best that you learn this difference before your next fight."

This humble farmer, who'd chuckled with them just a few hours before and boasted little more than a simple yet productive life, uttered sentences in which wisdom, the kind which could be born only from experience, ran like rivers. Yet when prodded when she let them slip, she merely brushed it off, claiming a relative used to say it. Or something to that extent.

She bowed then, deeper than ever before, and after excusing herself had disappeared into the darkness of the hallways.

No conversation stuck that night, and sleep had a similar pattern when it finally came.

-----------

Despite struggling sleeping, on edge due to events that never ended up occurring, the three awoke a bit after daybreak. It was about five minutes later that a knock on the door echoed through the room. It was rather surprising to find the woman who was so moody and distant the night before, looking so chipper and energetic in the morning. Once again, she brought in a tray, bearing a simple breakfast for them all and accompanied by some more tea. She placed it on that table once more, removing the other tray at the same time. Once again, she excused herself, though this time it was with the same merriment that they'd expected from her before the occurrence of the previous night. It seemed so hazy now, almost like a fever dream.

However they knew it wasn't. They knew it was real, without even having to confront each other about it. Although she never brought it up and cleverly avoided giving them a chance to, they didn't doubt for a moment that what had happened the previous night was equally odd and true.

And so, while she excused herself from the house very soon after taking away the almost untouched tea from the night before, they concocted a plan. It was morally very wrong, but their curiosity overturned their morals in this place. Not only was her behaviour rather odd, but the more that they thought about it, the house was rather odd as well.

"It smells so weird..." Tanjirou had found himself to be the first to complain about the house. The smell was beginning to irritate him with how powerful it was, so much so that he couldn't even begin to separate the different scents and their origins. Such a thing was so simple for him to do usually, yet he was unable to do so here. It was unnerving to think about; a demon could attack at any notice and he wouldn't even be able to know.

Inosuke was next up: "y'know, I was excited and all at first with how soft the floor is- I mean, where else do you get floor that's soft? In a house?!" The more he thought, the more he got distracted by how much he liked the softness of the material under his feet and hands, and how it separated in between his fingers and toes but was still so soft-

"Get on with it, we don't have all day," Zenitsu commented bitterly, quite upset that his most recent crush wasn't honest and trusting of him, someone she'd met literally the day before.

"Ah-" and Inosuke was brought back to present day, clearing his throat, "but yeah, I can't even feel anything else apart from how fuckin' soft this floor is. And the house!" He slammed open the door to the hallways, terribly startling Zenitsu in the process, "Is full of it!"

Zenitsu's heart seemed to be racing too fast for him to be able to participate in their little chat for a bit, but thankfully five minutes with a cup of tea had calmed his nerves. Not before he began to mutter very angrily about Inosuke under his breath for 'trying to kill' him, mind, but with a gentle prod from Tanjirou he began to share as well.

"I've never really come across anything like it..." he mumbled, quite ashamed of it as he dug a finger in his ear, "and it might sound kinda stupid, but I can't hear anything through these walls."

It took a moment for that one to sink in- such a thing seemed impossible. However he soon added on to what he said.

"Well, actually I do hear some stuff. But it's really faint, even though I can't hear stuff that's right outside."

"Like what?" Tanjirou immediately asked. This prompted Zenitsu to think deeply, staring up at the ceiling and humming for a moment.

"Dunno. Footsteps? They sound kinda far, though, so surely that's not it."

That was true. And so the trio began to think a bit more, staring at different places in the room and humming to themselves as they did so. Tanjirou even began to talk to Nezuko about it, even if she couldn't respond. Seeing as their host wasn't in the house currently, he deemed it safe to let her out and wander around a bit to stretch her legs. She had been in that box for over a full day, after all.

Then, as he watched her toddle around, an idea struck him.

"Wait, Zenitsu!" The sudden outburst shocked the aforementioned male, but (thankfully) not bad enough that he needed more tea and a time-out session.

Tanjirou pointed at his younger sister, who stared up at him questioningly, "how loud are Nezuko's footsteps?"

It was a strange question to ask out of the blue, but with how serious Tanjirou looked, Zenitsu replied as soon as he processed it, "pretty loud. Way louder than even Inosuke's."

This prompted an irritated growl from Inosuke, who looked ready to brawl with Zenitsu over the implications of that statement.

At this, Tanjirou lowered a fist onto his open palm, an expression of realisation on his face, "then what if they are footsteps?"

This question seemed even stranger at first glance- how could they be footsteps when footsteps from right outside the room couldn't even be heard? It just didn't seem logical, especially when the one that was navigating the hallways wasn't even very stealthy from what they'd seen of her. But then it clicked, and Zenitsu's face paled at the very notion of it.

"You can't mean-"

"Yes, I do." His face was deadly serious as he stared at Zenistu, ignoring Inosuke's persistent pestering to know what was going on. The latter's questions were answered anyway when he elaborated: "I think there's a demon in this house."

-----------

"Tanjirou..." Zenitsu was barely able to speak through the chattering of his teeth, which was the one thing that didn't falter about him as they headed down the stairs. Even Inosuke was being quieter, not uttering a single thing, nor even laughing at the blond's misery from underneath that boar mask of his. They'd found the staircase from behind a bookshelf, only doing so when Inosuke had felt the drag marks it had left on the carpet that he so loved.

It was dark, and would only get darker the further down that they went. It would be all too easy for the girl to trap them in there if she discovered where they'd gone, but it was a risk that they were willing to take. For there was a chance, no matter how slim, that she may not know of the demon in her house. Or perhaps it is forcing her to provide shelter for it to stay. There were too many possibilities which could mean that she was in danger, and all of them stemmed from the demon being in her house.

"Tanjirou...!" He repeated, a bit louder and whinier this time. Even Nezuko, who had forced them to allow her to tag along, shot him a look of disapproval. And if nothing else shut him up, then that certainly did, for Zenitsu was a creep to the core, and would drop anything that any living girl disliked that he did in a heartbeat. At least it came in handy sometimes, such as now.

There was light further ahead, and Tanjirou could smell it clearly now: it truly was the scent of a demon, and they would have left without knowing such a thing had they not been so insistent before. Sometimes, in rare moments like these and when he was asleep, Zenitsu was truly useful to have around. But then he squealed, and a huge list of reasons as to why not to have him around could easily be thought up.

Either way, there was no point in sneaking around now that Zenitsu had blown their cover so soon. Duct tape would have really come in handy. If only it was invented about half a century earlier. But, alas, this was their fate, and it was one that they had no choice but to live through. They didn't have the upper hand of surprise, but they certainly had the upper hand in numbers.

And if everything went to pot then they could just knock Zenitsu out. Always seems to work a treat.

As they crept into the light of the room, they took note of the figure kneeling in the centre. He faced away from them, though many of his features could be noted of. The first and most bizarre thing to note was the sword laying beside him. At least, it was the most bizarre until they took note of his clothing, which was extremely similar to theirs, though he also adorned a white jacket over the top of it. His hair was a mess of white, tinted with the warm hue of the flickering flames of the torches around him.

He hadn't noticed Nezuko's growling until now, nor her intense and furious glare. If looks could kill, that guy wouldn't even have ashes left.

"You really haven't learned what respect is at all, have you, you damned brat?"

That voice- how could Tanjirou forget that voice? The voice of the Hashira who had attacked his sister from a couple of years ago with a twisted grin all over his face. He was quick to understand Nezuko's growling, and had to hold her back from rushing in to attack him. The one thing that protected him from her was now gone, and he was one of what they hated.

He turned, a similar expression to the one back then written on his face, with those purple eyes still so wide, smile so wide that it split his face and nonexistent eyebrows furrowed. Though his rise to his feet was slow, obviously taking his time, they still didn't attack. Zenitsu's whole body was clattering with fear, clamming up and making him unable to say anything at all.

"It looks like I'll have to teach you myself, doesn't it? Maybe then it'll finally stick, even with a moron like you!"

As a human, he was already extremely quick. But as a demon he was even quicker as he lunged towards them, blade in hand and all too eager to strike.

#yandere x reader #yandere kny #yandere kny x reader #yandere kimetsu no yaiba #yandere #x reader #kimetsu no yaiba #kimetsu no yaiba x reader #kny #kny x reader

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afternoonteawithme · 5 years

Text

Messy Crayon Wishes

(Read it on AO3)

As Levi started up the path towards the creaky old two-story home that held Eren’s daycare, he was glad to see the kid didn’t seem to be showing any signs of distress. Sitting on the porch swing beside his favorite teacher, he looked animated as ever, with his mittened hands waving through the air while he chattered away at Petra.

When her patiently amused gaze shifted up to meet Levi’s, Eren’s head whipped around.

“Levi!” Eren’s face lit up. Scooting forward, he slid off the bench and started running.

The brat hadn’t bothered to put his shoes on again.

With the ease of long experience, Levi moved quickly to catch the kid before he threw himself off the porch.

Lifting Eren up onto his hip, Levi glanced up at Petra as she stood on the top step, her arms wrapped around herself against the cold.

“Are we all set?”

She nodded. “Yes, Mikasa called and let us know you’d be the one coming for him.” As Eren’s adoptive sister’s biological cousin, Levi wasn’t legally related to him, so even though everyone at the daycare knew their situation they all had to observe the formalities.

“Good.” He looked down at the kid. “You ready?”

Eren threw his hands up in the air as he beamed up at Levi. “Let’s go!”

Levi raised a brow. “Uh-huh. What about your boots?”

Eren’s mouth formed an ‘o’ of surprise as he stuck out a foot and stared at his bright blue sock.

“Oops.” He looked back up, and as the surprise slid away, the look that replaced it told Levi exactly what he was planning on saying next. “Shi-“

Levi’s finger under his chin cut him off.

The brat grinned up at him. “Shoot!”

“Right.” Shaking his head, Levi leaned forward to set Eren back down on the porch. “Go put on your boots.”

“Okay.” The kid scampered back inside, and Levi looked up at Petra.

She had a hand over her mouth, but he could still see the smile on her face.

“He’d better not be doing that all the time.”

She shook her head. “No. Only when you’re around.” She laughed. “But I think he might have overheard Zoe today when they dropped a jar of paint. I saw him mouthing something to himself afterwards, so I’m pretty sure he was memorizing some new words to try out.”

“Great.” Levi huffed out a breath. “I’ll avoid taking him anyplace with too many people for a while.”

“Sorry.”

Levi shook his head. “He’ll forget it all soon enough.” In any case, both he and Mikasa slipped enough that he was surprised the kid didn’t swear more. “And thank you for keeping him so late this afternoon, Mikasa told me you were supposed to shut early today.”

“It’s okay. He’s a fun kid.”

“He is that.”

“Um, by the way. About tonight.” Petra tightened her arms around herself. “I guess you won’t be able to make it, after all?”

Levi blinked. “Why not? I told Mikasa I’d already promised to do something this evening so I could only look after him for a little while. You said you needed help at your new place, right?”

Her eyes searched his face for a moment, before shifting to the side. “Well actually, I have a thing tonight. So I can’t.”

“A thing?”

“Yeah. A thing. With my parents. Christmas Eve and all.” She laughed, though it sounded a little odd. “I’d forgotten all about it.”

“I thought your parents were driving back into town tomorrow afternoon?”

Her eyes flashed back to his, and she looked surprised, for some reason. She huffed out a laugh. This one didn’t sound quite so forced. “I got it mixed up.”

She sighed, and glanced back at the still closed front door before moving down to the bottom step, only a foot away from Levi. “Eren was acting a little strange this morning, so I called his house to find out if he’d had one of his fevers, and Mr. Yeager-” She cut herself off as Eren came stomping back out with boots on.

“Ready!”

“Got everything?” Levi leaned down to pick him up and settle him back on his hip.

“Yep.”

Levi looked up at Petra. She’d backed up a step and was shifting uncomfortably. “Mr. Yeager sounded…unwell.” Glancing down at Eren, she bit her lip. “And a little upset. So when he didn’t show to pick up Eren when he was supposed to I… and Mikasa told me she’s on the long shift today. I just was thinking it’d be better if Eren had another place to stay tonight.”

“Got it.” Levi felt the small arms tighten around his neck, and a wave of familiar anger ran through his gut. Petra was saying – as delicately as possible – that the bastard had sounded drunk, and violent with it. She had no way of knowing that Eren was well aware of all the euphemisms for his father’s particular illness. “Then it’s lucky your parents are in town this evening, after all. Let me know If you still need help with the heavy lifting. Or I can come over one afternoon and get it done while you’re at work, if that’s easier.”

“Sure, Levi.” She smiled softly, even as she retreated backwards, up another stair. “See you around.”

“You idiot. That had nothing to do with ‘heavy lifting’. She’s been trying to seduce you.”

“That’s impossible, Mikasa.” Levi glanced in the rearview mirror. Eren was staring out the window, his lips moving and his feet bopping along to whatever music was coming out of the headphones Levi had jammed over his head before they’d set out. “She just needed help moving some stuff, that’s all.”

Mikasa snorted, the sound clear and disdainful as it poured out of Levi’s phone on the dash of his car. “It’s Christmas Eve, moron. She pretended her parents were out of town. She moved into her new place months ago and now all of a sudden she has all these still packed boxes she needs help moving? Petra? I don’t think so.”

“It’s not like that. She said she just needed some help with the last few boxes, and then she wanted someone to test the dinner she was making for her parents for tomorrow, since she’d never made it before.”

“Yeah, and then she’d probably pull out a bottle of wine and be all like ‘Oh you’ve helped me so much, let me treat you to a glass as a thank you.’” Mikasa’s voice lilted in a bad imitation of Petra. “And then she’d say ‘why don’t we just finish this bottle?’, and then she’d strip herself naked and drag you off to bed for a fun night of Christmas sex.”

Levi shot a glance back at Eren, relieved to find him still staring out the window. The distraction wouldn’t last, he knew, but at least he wouldn’t have to explain that particular word just yet. “Petra isn’t interested in me like that.”

“Uh-huh. This is the woman who ‘tripped’ over nothing and landed in your lap at last month’s reading night at the library?”

“That was an accident.”

“Right. And that time you went over to fix her leaky pipe that turned out to be nothing, did she or did she not call you into her bedroom to help her zip up her dress, said dress being almost completely nonexistent and her wearing nothing but skimpy undies underneath?”

“It wasn’t underwear, it was some sort of lace slip thing. And the zipper really was stuck.” Levi ignored the sound Mikasa made as he continued, “I think I’d know if she was trying for me.”

“Yeah, sure. For a smart guy you’re a real idiot when it comes to shi- to stuff like that.”

“You’re not exactly great at reading signals, either.”

“And that’s just one of the many reasons both of us are single on Christmas Eve.” Mikasa sighed, and Levi heard a burst of noise in the background. She’d be in the nurse’s breakroom, he knew, taking what escape she could from the madness that was a hospital during the holidays. “The poor girl has been trying to get in your pants for forever, and you just keep blowing her off. She’ll start taking it personally soon.”

Levi thought of the look on Petra’s face, just before he’d walked away. He shifted a little uncomfortably in his seat. “Maybe.”

“Still, she’s a good person. Giving up her hot date so you can be with Eren. I wasn’t sure what I was going to do.” Mikasa paused, sighed again. “It’s flu season, so not only are all the wards full, but we’re shorthanded too.”

“Its fine. I don’t have any shifts for a couple days, and no classes until after New Years.” He tapped his fingers on the steering wheel. “Will your dad cause trouble if we keep Eren away from home for a bit?”

“Not my dad. Grisha.” Mikasa corrected absently, as she always did. She was quiet for a long moment, and Levi heard the noise amp up as a door opened in the background again. “Is the nosy one occupied?”

“Now you ask? If he starts asking me what Christmas sex is, I’m telling him to ask you.” But Levi glanced in rearview mirror to double check. “Yeah, for now.”

“I went by the house, when Dad didn’t pick up Eren, just to make sure he hadn’t keeled over. No such luck, but he’d trashed the tree, ripped all the decorations off the walls all over the house. Took the cupcakes some nice neighbor dropped off and smashed them on the kitchen floor. I asked him what I was supposed to tell Eren. He said he didn’t give a fuc- a fudge, it’s his house, his tree, his kid, he pays the dam- darned bills. Blah blah blah.”

As always, she didn’t seem to notice she’d called her adoptive father ‘Dad’. And, as always, Levi didn’t mention it. “Being his usual wonderful drunk self, then.”

“Yeah. I told him to go fudge himself, and that Eren was staying at a friend’s house for a few days. Didn’t mention you by name, of course, since he hates your guts.”

“Break someone’s nose once and they never let it go. Did he trash Eren’s presents too?”

“No, I kept those hidden in the trunk of my car, since the nosy one gets more nosy by the day. I’ll bring them over after my shift finishes. Supposed to be nine, so way things are going I figure I’ll see you maybe by eleven.”

“Ok. Tomorrow it is, then.”

“Hah-hah. Man, I hope not.”

Even as Levi hung up, he saw something bright and orange out of the corner of his eye. Almost as soon as he realized what it was he was pulling the car into a tight u-turn and parking at the side of the road. He opened the back door to find Eren scowling up at him, the headphones in his hands.

“Why’d we stop?” He stretched in the carseat, looking around the outside of the car warily. “This isn’t your house.”

“It’s a surprise.” Levi eyed Eren’s bare feet. He’d managed to pull his shoes off again, and this time his socks had disappeared too. “But you have to wear your boots to find out.”

Eren puffed out his cheeks, eying Levi suspiciously. “Do I really have to?”

Levi nodded. “But if you don’t want to know what the surprise is, you can just stay like this and we’ll go home.” He moved back, as if to close the door again.

Eren let out a long-suffering sigh. “It better be a good surprise.”

“Promise.”

Socks, boots, coat, scarf, hat, and favorite backpack finally back on, they walked hand in hand down the street and into a small Christmas tree lot, surrounded by orange plastic fencing laced through with strings of lights, glowing dimly in the winter sunlight.

Eren glanced around the almost empty enclosure, clearly not understanding why they were there.

Levi squeezed his hand. “Okay, Eren. Let’s pick one.”

“Pick one?”

“Right. Pick a tree. This will be our tree. Yours, Mikasa’s, and mine.”

Eren’s tiny hand squeezed Levi’s fingers as he stared up at him, his wide eyes fastening onto Levi’s face. “Ours?”

“Yeah.”

“Only ours?”

“Right. We’ll put it up and decorate it so Mikasa can see when she comes over.”

Eren hesitated, and moved in a little closer to Levi’s leg before asking, in a much quieter, softer voice, “Is Dad coming over, too?”

The look on his face almost broke Levi’s heart. “Not this time, kid. It’ll just be the three of us.”

“Alright.” Eren nodded slowly, and then smiled up at Levi. “Then we have to pick out the very, very best tree, okay?”

“It’s a deal.”

One huge tree and one relatively inexpensive trip to the store later – it was already Christmas Eve, after all, and almost everything tree related was on sale – they finally had the thing up in Levi’s apartment. It was so big that the top branches bent over against the ceiling.

Dancing with excitement, Eren darted around the tree, directing Levi as they hung the baubles they’d picked up.

“Here?”

“No, higher!”

“Are you sure? We have a lot of empty space in the middle now.”

“It needs to go high up.”

“Okay then.” Since Eren could only reach about halfway up, and since he’d insisted Levi hang all his decorations near the top, there was a good two feet almost entirely empty of decorations in the middle.

But hey, at least the kid was happy.

“When will Mikasa be here?” Eren asked, for possibly the millionth time.

“Your sister is coming late tonight, after you go to bed. You’ll see her in the morning.”

“But what time after I go to bed?”

“What does it matter? You’ll be asleep.”

Eren stopped dancing around long enough to scowl up at Levi. “Just answer the question, will you?”

Levi felt his lip twitch, and quickly turned his face away so Eren wouldn’t see his smile. It was always best not to encourage the brat. “She said work might keep her late, so she wasn’t sure.”

“She’ll be here before midnight, right?”

“She’ll try.”

“Okay.” Eren nodded to himself, evidently satisfied, and stood on tiptoe to hang a sparkly bauble on the lower half of the tree.

Long after Eren had fallen asleep on the couch in front of the tree, Levi poured boiling water into two mugs as Mikasa hitched herself up onto the counter beside him.

He shot her a look. “That’s for food. You’re not food. Get off.”

“Don’t be so fussy. You’ll hose it down before you cook anything on it, anyway.”

“That doesn’t mean I want your ass on there in the meantime.” But the shadows under Mikasa’s eyes were deep enough that Levi let it go, mostly. He pulled out a bottle of bleach wipes and pointedly set it next to her hip. “Wipe it off when you get down. Thoroughly.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah. You’re such a clean freak.”

“And you’re such a heathen.” Levi lifted the tea bag from her cup, strained it.

“And proud of it.” Mikasa rested her head back against the cabinet behind her and smiled ruefully at Levi. “Who would believe we’re actually related?”

“It’s a mystery.” Handing Mikasa one of the mugs, Levi took his own, leaning back against the oven as he studied her. She really did look tired. And there was something else in her eyes. Something sad.

It made him want to break something.

He’d tracked her down mainly out of curiosity, but it had taken less than an hour of her prickly company for him to realize he actually liked her. It hadn’t taken him much longer than that to realize she wasn’t happy. Over the years she’d become his family, and since he’d do anything for his family, he’d rearranged his life to try and make hers a little better.

And then her baby brother had wrapped his sticky little fingers around Levi’s heart, and the family had grown by one more.

“It must have been a bad scene, when you went back home today.”

“No worse than usual. I just thought- Dad hadn’t been this drunk in a while. I was starting to think maybe something had changed.”

“It won’t be that simple.”

“I know it.” She stared down at the steam rising out of her cup. “I just- I had to leave for work early this morning. Mr. Arlert called me and said Eren was waiting outside the house, by the street, when he came by with Armin to pick him up for the daycare carpool. He wondered why we’d let him outside on his own. He said Eren was a little quiet, nothing too alarming, but just- quiet.”

She lifted her gaze back up to meet Levi’s, and he saw there was guilt mixed in, too. “I think Dad must have done at least some of the house trashing while Eren was home. And from the garbage he spewed out when I was there, he maybe said something to him too.” She shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m just not sure we’re doing the right thing.”

“This isn’t forever. When we have the resources saved up, you’ll file for custody.”

“And in the meantime?”

“Eren’ll be okay for now. He’s got us.”

“He does. He always will” Her chin jutted up, and Levi was relieved to see heat start to replace the complicated mix of emotions in her eyes.

“See? It’s just a matter of time.”

She blinked, and then cocked her head at him. “You’re pretty smart for such a stupid guy, aren’t you?”

Levi paused, mug halfway to his lips. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me. You and Petra, huh?”

“There is no me and Petra.”

She lifted the cup he’d handed her, took her first delicate sip. “She wants there to be.”

“So you say.”

“Come on, Levi, I was mostly kidding about the stupid. Even if you are signal-blind, you have to have figured it out, now that I said something, right?”

Scowling down into his tea, Levi shrugged. “Maybe. So what? It wouldn’t work, anyway.”

“Not with that attitude it won’t.”

“I’m not interested in a relationship right now.”

“Why?”

“It’d just get complicated. There’s too much going on.”

Mikasa studied Levi for a long minute, and then shifted her eyes away as she took another sip from her cup. “Bet you wish you’d never tracked me down now, huh?”

Levi stretched a leg out, kicked at Mikasa’s foot. “Knock it off, Mikasa. I don’t regret finding you, or Eren, and I never will.”

She wrinkled her nose at him. “That’s so sappy. I think I’m gonna vomit.”

“Not in here you won’t.”

She laughed, and he knew she’d gotten over the worst of the sadness. “We’ll keep him here as long as possible. Dad’ll sober up, remember he’s supposed to be a father. I’ll have to bring him home.”

“And then when your dad gets drunk again we’ll-”

“Not my dad.” She interrupted him.

“Sorry. Grisha. When he gets drunk again we’ll-”

“Which hopefully won’t be for a while.”

“When it does,” Levi continued on, “We’ll step in. Bring him back here for a while.” He considered for a long second, remembering that afternoon. “I think by next year I’ll have to find an apartment with taller ceilings for the tree he’ll insist on. I had a hard time talking him into this one.”

Mikasa grinned at him. “He’s a great kid.”

“Levi?” Eren’s voice made them both turn towards the door of the kitchen. Scrubbing at his eyes, hair stuck up all over his head, Eren wandered in. His eyes landed on his sister and he brightened. “Mikasa!”

“Hey kid.” She slid off the counter and moved to scrub at his hair, turning it into even more of a mess.

He ducked away, grabbing her hand and tugging urgently at it until she crouched in front of him. He side-eyed Levi as he whispered loudly into her ear, “Did you bring it?”

“Bring what?”

“The thing. You know.”

Clearly playing with him, she tapped a finger on her lips and looked up at the ceiling. “What thing would that be?”

“Mikasa.”

She grinned at him. “Aren’t you happy to see me?”

“I am, but, Mikasa.” He was almost dancing in place from impatience.

She kissed his cheek with a loud smooch, making him giggle, then turned him to face the living room. “It’s in my purse, by the door. Don’t look in the other bag, oh nosy one.”

With another giggle, Eren ran out of the room.

Mikasa shot Levi a look as she stood. “I bet you’re gonna cry.”

“I am not.”

She picked her tea back up, took a slow sip. “Bet.”

Eren dashed back in and handed Levi a brown envelope.

Slowly, Levi ripped it open. There was a sheet of paper inside, folded in half. When he opened it, he found a hand drawn message, written in messy crayon over neat pencil lines.

To Levi. Happy Birthday. I like you a lot. Thanks for being my family. Eren

Levi ran the pad of his finger over the waxy crayon, and felt something burning the back of his eyes.

“Mikasa helped me write it, but I picked the words.” Bouncing on his toes, Eren watched Levi’s face. “I had to wake up tonight because I had to tell you happy birthday as soon as I could, and give you your card.”

“Thanks kid.” Levi folded the paper delicately, treating it like the treasure it was. “It’s the best birthday card, ever.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” When Levi crouched down and wrapped Eren in a hug, he looked up at Mikasa.

And wasn’t even mad when she mouthed ‘told you so’ at him.

#snk #papa levi #baby eren #platonic ereri #my fanfiction #ereri #elliemoran #kinda my holiday/levi's bday present to everyone #i can't quite believe i managed to get this done by the day i said i'd get it done #ie christmas eve #although i guess i originally planned to post it last weekend #still counts though

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beyondconfessor · 4 years

Text

The Infernal Contract [4/16]

[4/16] Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Lilith/Zelda Spellman

Summary: Ms Wardwell was quiet as she walked beside her, a serene expression over her face as she looked up at night sky, where the half-moon hung amongst the stars. For a moment, Zelda wondered if she'd been right. And then the blue eyes fell to hers again, and Zelda knew she was.

N.B.: Also posted on AO3

The Council had come back from their review and decided that Ambrose was to be executed. Despite everything he did for the coven, despite his involvement in the protection against the witch hunters, the execution was to go ahead.

Zelda felt ill. Although Hilda had been the one to raise him in England when his father had passed, Zelda had regularly dropped in and out of his life as she travelled the world, providing all the gifts are young warlock could want.

Ambrose had been a soulful boy from quite young, and she had always felt in her heart that he would grow to be something great. At the time, Zelda had thought his poetry would impact the world, his thirst for knowledge and understanding, and then he'd stupidly went and attempt an assault on the Vatican, and all of that potential had seemed to be wasted, moping around the Spellman manor.

But he'd cleaned himself up, studied, and held to his loyalties. Even Zelda couldn't fault him that.

And for a few months, she thought maybe he would grow to be the grand warlock she'd once seen.

Zelda stirred her tea, looking over to where her sister tended to the indoor plants.

Faustus had shuffled her out of his office with a quick "you should be with your family in these times," sentiment as he, Prudence, and the Council remained to discuss something further once the sentencing had been passed. He was planning something, and given that he didn't want her present, Zelda could only imagine it had something to do with Sabrina. On top of her fears for Ambrose in the morrow, Zelda now had to worry for her niece.

Not that she'd ever stopped worrying.

"We should bind the house," Zelda said as she lifted the cup of tea to her lips. "Protect it against those who would do us harm."

"We'd need a full moon for that, and it's only half full, now."

Zelda placed the tea to its saucer. It'd been a while since she bound a residence, but she was sure there was another ritual. One that involved the blood of a fawn or something to the effect. She'd search her books for it later.

"Difficult times," Hilda murmured. "Maybe we could-"

"We'd have to keep running for the rest of our lives," Zelda reminded her. "Perhaps Sabrina will find Leviathan, and we can take it to the Council." It would likely indict Faustus, ruin her chances of rising, but so be it. At least this way, they would clean the Spellman name from the act, and Ambrose would live to have a good life.

"Well, Ambrose was quite certain the poor thing was dead, but who knows, he was so distraught he may have misseen him."

"Unlikely. If it's dead, we'll bring it back. We'll just need the life of another familiar, and I'm sure we could find one strolling around the woods if need be."

Hilda's eyes went wide as she opened her mouth to argue, before thinking better of it and returning to her pruning. Zelda could see her cheeks turning pink at the very idea of killing a so-called innocent familiar. Still, if that's what it took to bring back Leviathan and save Ambrose and Sabrina both, Zelda would happily cut down every familiar she came across.

"Aunties!" Sabrina said as she walked into the room, her hands swinging at her sides. "I found Leviathan."

Zelda felt relief sink through her. "Wonderful news. Do we need a sacrifice to bring him back?"

"I just resurrected him. He's fine and willing to testify against Blackwood."

Hilda spun around, prune clippers in grip as she faced their niece. "And what poor creature did you harm to do that?"

"That's the thing I didn't need to. I just did it," Sabrina shrugged, looking smug with herself.

Zelda felt a coldness trickle down her spine.

"Impossible," she stated. "All magic comes with a price, that's how it's always been."

Sabrina turned and looked at her, a tightness on her face as she stated, "I don't think I'm tapping into that kind of magic, I think this is something new."

"Something new?" Zelda set her tea down, scoffing at the idea of new magic. "Sabrina, you've only recently signed your name away, and right now, all your magic feels new and exciting. Nonetheless, all magic has a price, and if you're not paying it now, then you or someone dear to you will eventually make that payment."

"There's no payment."

"Need I remind you about the last time you tried to skip out of payment?"

A petulant look rose across Sabrina's face that quickly turned to anger, not unlike when she'd been a toddler, "Excuse me, Aunt Zee, but you weren't even there when I was using my newfound power, so I don't think you have any right to talk about it. I died and came back!"

"And you think you're the very first witch to complete such a feat? Magic is magic, Sabrina. I don't need to witness it to know that arcane laws stand."

"This is different, believe me. It doesn't feel like anything else I've done. It feels...easier, simpler. I'm sure that it is a new kind of magic and maybe a better kind that isn't based on cause and effect."

Zelda looked to Hilda, sharing a look with her. Sabrina had never listened to them in the past, so why would she begin here? "Fine, if you want to play with magic, then so be it, but when the debt comes, there will be nothing we can do to stop it from being paid."

"But that's what I'm saying, there is no debt."

"And what if there is? What will you do when the price is Salem's life or one of your mortal friends? What if you unleash a pestilence on Greendale and infect us all?"

Sabrina shook her head, though Zelda could see the tears pricking at her eyes. "There won't be," she said, but the anger was lost. "This is different."

"Is that really a risk you're willing to pay for a few bouts of magic?"

"But what if there is no price?"

"Everything in the world has a price, Sabrina. Even mortals pay the price. Why would you be exempt?"

Sabrina looked away from her, avoiding her gaze, but it was still plainly written on her face. Her niece thought she was the exception, the result of some divine purpose meant to foster forth a new way of thinking. At this rate, there was no way of getting through to her.

Zelda drew her cup of tea to her lips and waited for Sabrina to decide what she wanted to do.

"Tomorrow, we'll go to the council," Sabrina said. "Leviathan's alive now."

"And warded?" Zelda inquired.

"He's upstairs in his box."

"So you left a key witness that you've declared you're going to bring to the Council tomorrow, alone in a room in an unguarded house?"

Sabrina's mouth parted, before she crossed her arms against her chest, "how do I ward him then?"

"It might be easier to hide him with someone who's able to protect him overnight since a warding could take a while. I could reach out to Desmelda or-"

"Ms Wardwell."

Wardwell. Drawing in a breath, Zelda nodded as she pushed down her irritation from the woman's name. Admittedly, the Wardwell woman would be a suitable place to hide the mouse away from whatever Faustus was likely to get up to. Most likely by sending Prudence or another one of his favoured Judas Boys.

"It's late," Zelda reminded.

"I'll call her," Sabrina said, and then without waiting for a reply, skipped off to hall to do just that.

As it was, the school teacher apparently had been awake and had agreed to take the mouse into protection. After finishing the phone call and advising her aunties of the new plan, Sabrina brought Leviathan down and placed his cage on the coffee table in the parlour as they waited for Ms Mary Wardwell to arrive.

Zelda had finished her tea and moved to light a cigarette in anticipation. No doubt, the woman would waltz in like she belonged and offer some surgent advice to the effect of a new spell for Sabrina to complete. Zelda could already feel a headache brewing.

She took another drag of the cigarette as Hilda set out a new pot of tea with a set of fresh cups. "She won't be staying long," Zelda reminded her.

"Oh, I know, but it's nice to have guests over that aren't clients. And we rarely go to the parent-teacher conferences that the school holds."

"Why on earth would we? We knew Sabrina was doing well enough at the mortal school. She can read, write, and do mathematics, the only thing we needed the school to teach her. Everything else she can learn at the Academy."

"I suppose, but still-"

"No buts. Frankly, I'm surprised Sabrina still wants to attend, but I promised I wouldn't interfere further." Zelda flicked the ash into the tray and looked at her cigarette. Half of it was gone already, and she could barely feel its effects. This was going to be a long night.

With that thought, the doorbell rang, and Zelda felt her headache begin to brew.

"Oh! There's the door," Hilda said.

"Yes, we all heard it," Zelda snarked, but it fell on deaf ears as her sister ran off to the foyer.

Zelda adjusted herself, ensuring she looked relaxed and unbothered by the woman's arrival as she eased herself in the armchair and considering pouring a glass of whiskey.

She wouldn't because decorum would dictate offering Wardwell a drink, and she didn't want to do that.

The door opened, and she could hear Sabrina greeting the woman, quickly catching her up with everything as Zelda inhaled the smoke and felt it curl down into her lungs, holding there before she let it exhale again.

"-need you to look after him, if that's okay?" Sabrina finished as she led Ms Wardwell into the room and gestured to the mouse. "Until we bring him to the Council tomorrow, that is. But I'll come over and pick it up."

The Wardwell woman crouched down before the coffee table, smoothing down the back of the navy blue dress before it began to ride up. "What a lovely, little mouse you have here," Ms Wardwell said before her eyes flicked over to Zelda. "You don't mind, do you?"

Zelda was going to answer when the faint smell of perfume wafted over, making her chest tighten with the familiarity of it. Adjusting herself in the chair, so her back was sitting up straighter, she drew in a drag of the cigarette and nodded to the woman.

Ms Wardwell drew her hands over the mouse, whispering to it softly, "be a good girl."

"It's a boy," Sabrina corrected. "I...think."

It didn't matter, Zelda felt the hair on the back of her neck prickle at the term.

She eyed the woman carefully, watching as Sabrina gave a rundown of what happened as she finally caught and lifted the mouse into her hand. She rose it up to eye level, holding its body carefully in her grip. Her ice-blue eyes narrowed at the mouse before they turned to Zelda, and a slow, red-coloured smirk filled her features.

Zelda felt as if her heartbeat had slowed right down until she could feel every squeezing contraction of the muscle. The woman was watching her now, the lips parting into a wide, mischievous grin.

"Isn't that right, Auntie?" Sabrina asked her.

Zelda flicked her eyes to her niece and smiled at her, giving a small nod. "Of course," she replied, having no idea what she'd agreed to.

Sabrina gave her an odd look but returned to beam at Ms Wardwell anyway, clasping her hands behind her back as she bounced on her feet with brewing excitement. "Once they realise what Father Black– er, his Unholiness has done," Sabrina said, before scrunching up her nose, "then they'll have no choice but to execute him and save Ambrose."

"Quite," Ms Wardwell said, holding the mouse tighter as it began to squirm. "Well, as I said before, I'm happy to look after the familiar. You can pick it up tomorrow from school if you prefer?"

"That should be easy. I imagine the Council would want to see us around midday. Right, Aunties?"

Zelda watched the mouse wiggle in Ms Wardwell's grip, likely knowing what creature was holding it. "Most likely, they did direct twenty-four hours, I would advise producing him before then," she said. The mouse slackened with a soft squeak, apparently giving up on its escape for the moment.

"Of course, I'm sure I can manage to keep him safe for a few hours."

"I'm sure you could," Zelda said, bitterness seeping in her voice. Ms Wardwell looked to her and gave a modest shrug. There was a playful aspect to it in the way she held her eyes. As if she knew what Zelda was thinking.

"Tea?" Hilda asked as she went to lift the pot from the tea tray.

Standing up, Zelda declared, "I believe Ms Wardwell would probably like to return home and get some rest given how late the hour is." Before walking over to pick up the cage in one hand as she met Ms Wardwell's piercing blue eyes. "Shall I walk you out?"

"Of course," she said, in her sweet, school-teacher voice.

Zelda took the familiar, placing it in its cage before snapping the lid shut. She gave a sharp look to Sabrina, warning her not to follow, before walking the so-called Principle of Baxter High out of the parlour, through to the foyer and then outside.

The anxiety of the revelation burrowed through her nerves as she marched her down the stairs. It seemed so evident as she thought over their interactions and all the tidbits Mary Wardwell had provided about her history. There was no way that Edward wouldn't have mentioned this woman. No, she should have known from the exorcism, should have known when she first met her sauntering around their home, under some excuse of wanting a funeral service. What kind of witch wandered around another witch's house?

Around their nightmares?

How dare she!

Ms Wardwell was quiet as she walked beside her, a serene expression over her face as she looked up at night sky, where the half-moon hung amongst the stars. For a moment, Zelda wondered if she'd been right. And then the blue eyes fell to hers again, and Zelda knew she was. That Cheshire grin glowing red in the moonlight.

'Tell me, Zelda, what would you do if I told you it was the Dark Lord's will to extinguish the girl from your life?'

She shivered at the memory of her pre-wedding night. It seemed the woman had been playing with the Spellmans for far too long.

Stalking over to where the woman had parked her car, she pulled open the back door and stuffed the familiar in the backseat before slamming the door shut, her anger boiling over as she turned on her heel to face the woman who was standing far closer than she had a right to.

"Someone's grumpy."

Zelda felt a growl rise in her chest. "You," she spat out.

"Me," Ms Wardwell said, placing an innocent look on her face as she drew her hands before her, tilting her face forward, eyes wide open. She should slap her. "Did I hurt you in some way, Ms Spellman?"

"How long have you been masquerading as-" and she cut herself off, uncertain as to where her lies began, and where the truth did. "How long?" she asked shortly instead.

"Oh, well, now that could have many answers. You'll need to be specific."

Zelda felt her irritation grow, looking over to where the house was. It was dark enough that they would likely have trouble seeing them even if they had their faces pressed to the window. So as long as she kept her voice down, they shouldn't come running out to investigate. "How long have you been watching over Sabrina?"

Ms Wardwell tilted her head, eyes narrowing as if hoping Zelda would have asked another question. "Since it was asked of me," she answered.

"And exactly when did that begin?"

"Not long before her baptism was first to occur. I was meant to...encourage it along, and when that failed, I was to guide her back to the Path of Night."

"Why?"

"It was the Dark Lord's will. Now ask the question you really want to." Ms Wardwell stepped closer, and Zelda walked back a step, before feeling rear car door press against her. It mirrored a similar interaction to Rome, and Zelda felt her thighs press tighter together. "Come now, are you afraid of little old me?"

"I'm not afraid of you," Zelda snapped. "You've lied to my family, masquerading as some excommunicated spinster witch. If anything, I'm furious. I should tell Sabrina what you really are."

"You won't, though," Lilith said, having the audacity to look unconcerned at her threat.

"I would."

"No, you won't. Because the Dark Lord's will is to guide Sabrina to greatness, and you wouldn't dare step in the way of that." Lilith stepped forward again, before reaching out and tucking a curl behind Zelda's ear. "You're many things, Zelda, but you're not a heretic. It's why I chose to visit you on your wedding night."

Zelda shivered at the woman's touch. "You don't know what I would do for my family."

"Don't I? Then why don't you run in there now and tell her?" Lilith paused, waiting for Zelda to move, and when she didn't, she grinned at her. "You won't stand in the way of the Dark Lord's will, not when it could be so beneficial for the Spellman name."

"Sabrina won't be manipulated. She'll see right through you."

"Is that so?" Lilith's fingers stroked down Zelda's cheek, coming to a stop under her chin. "She's going to make the Spellman name remembered through all of history. At her side, you'll be remembered as the woman that brought her there." Lilith leant forward, her lips brushing against Zelda's. "Wouldn't all that power be nice? You'd be an Unholy Saint, Zelda Spellman."

Zelda felt her lips part in response, her eyes fluttering shut as her body keened forward. Lilith was right, she did want that. Zelda wanted Sabrina to be magnificent, wanted it to be the result of her raising. And Sabrina had so far to go, she would still need a hand to guide her.

Their lips brushed again, and Zelda felt Lilith's fingers curl over her throat. In that touch, all her worries slipped away, all her anger melted as desire filled her. She leaned forward and felt the woman's tongue slide over hers.

Zelda moaned and drew her hands to the woman's waist, only to have Lilith step out of them, pulling away from her altogether as she laughed.

"See?" she said as she drew her eyes over Zelda's form. "I know you better than you know yourself."

Zelda clenched her jaw, pressing her lips shut as she looked away from the woman over to the Spellman Manor. She could feel her cheeks going red at the humiliation, but worse, she could feel the absence of the woman, her skin cold and raw where her fingers had been, prickling at the lost. She felt the humiliation rise all the more as Lilith's eyes watched her.

"So all of this was a ploy to get closer to Sabrina," Zelda said.

"Was it?" Lilith enquired. "I don't remember asking you for anything of that sort. In fact, I believe our relationship was built on a physical request," Lilith reached out and intertwined their hands together, and lifted them up, pressing red lips to her knuckles. "Would you like me to demonstrate that for you?"

Zelda snatched her hand back. "You don't really think I'm going to continue after all of this?"

"Why don't I let you think about it?" Lilith asked as she stepped away from Zelda to the front door of the car. As it creaked open, Zelda moved off from the car and walked away, staring as the woman slid into the driver's seat and smiled up at her. "I expect I'll see you soon, mouse."

"Unlikely," she retorted. Lilith only smiled at her as she pulled the door shut. Zelda could feel the warmth in her lower belly as she thought about the woman's lips grazing her own, the touch against her hand and neck that still burnt.

Turning away before Lilith could get another word in, she walked off towards the house. She needed to tell Sabrina. She wouldn't let some woman, Lilith or not, dictate what she would tell her niece.

The car started as Zelda made her way to the front porch, the sound of the wheels driving on the gravel and dirt, off to the main road echoing around their property. Zelda made the mistake of turning to look over her shoulder and catch the rear lights driving down.

What was she doing?

If she told Sabrina, her niece would turn away from the Dark Lord's will. Actively defy whatever it may be. Would it be so terrible for her to keep this knowledge to herself for a time until she knew what Lilith's goal was? After all, as Mary Wardwell, Lilith had not brought Sabrina harm, she'd even guided her to sign her name in the Book of the Beast. And the Dark Lord hadn't led them wrong before.

Zelda drew a breath and pushed through the front door. No, perhaps it would be better to think about it first and find out what the Dark Lord wanted from Sabrina. There was every chance it was precisely what Sabrina wanted.

Perhaps Sabrina was right, and he did wish to bring about the balance between Mortals and Witches. It seemed unlikely, but who was she to define what the Dark Lord's will was?

#lilith #zelda spellman #zelith #madam spellman #caos fanfic #morgan writes

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hailing-stars · 5 years

Text

I wrote this fic almost a year ago, one of my first irondad one-shots and my writing has improved so much lmao, but I didn’t have a tumblr back then, so I thought it was worth posting here. also May dates doc ock which happens in the comics but was still uncomfortable to write lol

summary - something nefarious

“I didn’t,” he said, then frowned. “I don’t. I’m just… distracted.”

Mr. Stark’s raised eyebrow demanded an answer.

“…Umm,” said Peter. He picked the first non-college thought that popped into his head. “Well Aunt May has this new boyfriend.”

“And you hate him.”

“Well, yeah.”

“Sounds about right,” said Mr. Stark, with a sigh, as Peter checked his phone.

Peter gets beat up by May's new boyfriend, because May's new boyfriend is Doc Ock and Peter is nosey.

Tony just wants to work on a car with his Spidey son and send him to college in one piece.

read on ao3 or after the undercut

Peter stared at the car parts scattered across the floor. He tried to remember enough to start assembling, or to at least make a little bit of progress before Mr. Stark looked away from whatever he was working on and saw no changes were made. It was useless. He couldn’t concentrate. Not on that. Not during that particular moment.

His thoughts belonged elsewhere, anywhere else, actually, but mostly not there. On the car. Completing the car meant completing a lie, or more importantly, led Peter closer to the moment he’d have to confess to Mr. Stark that he wouldn’t be attending MIT in the fall and therefore wouldn’t need this particular graduation present.

Peter had trouble deciding what would upset Mr. Stark more, his choice of school or that attending NYU rendered his gift useless.

“Every college man needs a car,” he had told him, then proceeded to try and rush off to get him a brand-new Audi. Peter’s lucky to have both May and Pepper. They were there to force him into a compromise

.May picked out some rundown car at a junk lot, and Mr. Stark would help him fix it up.

This compromise meant every Saturday that summer belonged to the workshop. He didn’t mind that part. Spending time with Mr. Stark was one of his favorite things to do. Especially there, in the workshop, where new Iron Man suits were born. If Peter were really going away to Massachusetts for school next fall, which he definitely wasn’t, he would miss him, almost as much as May.

The thought crossed his mind that he might end up missing Mr. Stark after all. Peter isn’t completely above pretending to be at MIT while he really hung around New York. It sounded a lot better and like a lot less drama than giving him the bad news.

“You were right,” said Mr. Stark. His voice dripped with sarcasm as he stood over where Peter worked, or pretended to work, on the floor. “Clearly you don’t need my help.”

“I didn’t,” he said, then frowned. “I don’t. I’m just… distracted.”

Mr. Stark’s raised eyebrow demanded an answer.

“…Umm,” said Peter. He picked the first non-college thought that popped into his head. “Well Aunt May has this new boyfriend.”

“And you hate him.”

“Well, yeah.”

“Sounds about right,” said Mr. Stark, with a sigh, as Peter checked his phone.

“Oh shit,” he said, and struggled to get to his feet. He sprinted to the other side of the workshop, grabbed his bookbag from the floor, then sprinted back to Mr. Stark. “I’m going to be late. I’m supposed to be meeting him tonight.”

He waited for the blow to come. A sarcastic comment. An ill-received joke. Peter prepared to defend himself for hating the man without ever meeting him, but the blow never came. This is something that, maybe, Mr. Stark understood, too. Peter didn’t need a reason to dislike any of May’s boyfriends, although he felt like he had plenty from overheard bits of conversations on the phone.

His name was reason enough. Doctor Otto.

Peter looked up once he adjusted the strap of his bookbag, and followed Mr. Stark’s gaze over to the car, if it could even be called a car at that point, sitting in the middle of the room.

“At this rate it’s never gonna be finished by fall.”

“Sorry Mr. Stark,” said Peter. “I’ll come back tomorrow?”

“Nope, tomorrow I’m spending the day with Pepper,” he said, then pointed at him. “Next Saturday I’m helping you, and cut it out with the Mr. Stark, alright? I told you. It’s Tony. You’re an adult now. Use your big boy words.”

“Sure thing, Mr. Stark.”

Peter was almost out the door when he heard Mr. Stark grumble, “Smartass.”

He was, as predicted, late for dinner. He opened the apartment door to one of the most traumatizing sights he’d ever seen in his eighteen years of life. May and Doctor Otto were standing uncomfortably close, but worse of all, they were breaking apart, as if they’d been closer, as if they’d been kissing.

His eyes settled over the man, but Peter’s feet stayed planted in the foyer, letting the door fall shut behind him. Doctor Otto was tall, with dark hair and fit. His button up shirt stuck too close to his skin, but that wasn’t the most unsettling observation Peter made that night. It was the look in his eyes. Possibly, it was the same look Peter gave him as he sized him up, as the both of them were making up their minds about each other there in his aunt’s apartment.

The apartment they used to share with his uncle Ben.

“You must be Peter,” said Otto. He broke out of the kitchen and started across the apartment towards him.

“Obviously.”

Otto looked taken back for a half-second, then quickly recovered and pretended he hadn’t heard the tone. Behind him, May glared and mouthed at him to be nice.

“I’m Otto,” he said. His grip was loose and flimsy, like a fish out of water or a man who’s trying too hard to pretend to be unassuming. Peter knew better than to fall for that. “May told me so much about you.”

“Really?” said Peter. “I haven’t heard very much about you at all actually…”

“Peter,” said May, marching across the kitchen and joining them in the foyer. She stood by Otto, on his side, and hooked her arm through his. “He’s joking.” She looked at Peter. “You’re joking, but the joke’s over now.”

The couple walked back into the kitchen, arms still linked, and Peter swallowed misplaced stomach acid. His feet felt like dead weights as he followed them to the kitchen table. He didn’t know how he would make it through dinner without puking, but he should at least try it. He should at least try to be polite even if Otto made his skin crawl and his stomach turn, just so May wouldn’t kill him once he left. If he ever left.

He looked so comfortable on May’s side of the dinner table, where Ben used to sit, Peter wasn’t so sure they would ever get rid of him.

He stayed polite by keeping his responses as short as possible. He nodded when he could, he forced himself to smile, and occasionally, would make a noise that implied he was paying attention and actually, he was. Otto went on and on about his research with radioactive substances, maybe trying to impress him, but after spending so much time with Mr. Stark, it was hard to be impressed by someone so mediocre.

“I’ve heard you’re pretty into science yourself,” said Otto. There was a stray lasagna noodle hanging on his chin, and Peter had a hard time looking anywhere else. “I’ll have to get your opinion on my work sometime.”

“Oh,” said Peter. He looked down at his plate and pushed a few noodles around with his fork. “I doubt I would have the time for that. I intern for Mr. Stark, and he keeps me pretty busy.”

May narrowed her eyes at Peter, who stared right back. Otto was her boyfriend. It didn’t mean he was obligated to spend time with him.

“I’m sure he does,” said Otto, and Peter smiled for the first time since coming home, enjoying the bit of jealousy laced into his voice.

That night, Peter laid in bed and stared at his ceiling. The more his brain turned and turned and turned with all that talking about radioactive substances, about wanting to work with them, about AIs that would allow him to do it, the more it didn’t sound right. AIs were dangerous in the wrong hands. Peter didn’t think they should be trusted in the same hands that had trouble keeping food on his plate or in his mouth.

He didn’t sleep until he resolved to start an investigation, and to not give it up until he found something so incriminating May would break up with him.

Peter had a simple plan.

He set his alarm early, at least for an otherwise lazy Sunday morning, and stayed in his room. He pretended to be asleep until he heard the shower water running. He slipped out of bed and made his footsteps light as he crept into May’s bedroom. Her phone sat on the nightstand, and once in his hands, it was an easy hack. Something so simple and learned so easily by spending enough time around Mr. Stark, who was quick to teach Peter anything he wanted to know. He scrolled with his thumb until he found Otto’s contact information, grinning when he finally came across what he’d been looking for, an address.

He sent it to his phone, wiped the message history and returned it to its original position on the nightstand.

By the time May came out of the bathroom, Peter sat at the kitchen table, watching YouTube videos on his phone and eating a bowl of cereal. The empty box laid sideways on the table.

“Good morning, May,” he said, as she walked past him.

She headed to the coffee pot, or at least she had started in that direction. She backtracked several steps to stand in the kitchen entryway, observing him with her hands on her hips, until Peter was forced to acknowledge her.

“No.”

“No to what?”

“To whatever you’re up to,” she said. “I know that look, and I know what it means.”

“But I’m not even doing anything.”

“Does what you’re not doing have anything to do with Otto, by any chance?” she asked. Peter blinked at her, and she pulled on her we’re-about-to-have-a-serious-discussion face while she pulled out the chair next to him. “Did you know all those nights you spend going off, having your little Avengers missions, I sit here in this kitchen, by myself, worrying to death about you? Every single time. It never gets less scary, but it always ends the same way. Do you know how?”

“Umm…” said Peter. He had a feeling he knew, but he felt like answering would be walking into a trap.

“With you coming through that door complaining,” she said. “Mr. Stark is so over-protective. He’s paranoid! He won’t let me anything –“

“-My voice isn’t that high.”

“The point,” said May. “Is that you are doing the same thing, with me, now.”

Peter dropped his spoon, and looked at her, really looked at her. She made a good point. He hated that, because this situation was clearly different. Relationships were definitely more dangerous than his missions with the Avengers.

“I miss Ben too, but I have to start dating again sometime, you know?”

“I know,” said Peter. “Does it have to be this guy, though?”

May rolled her eyes, stood up and headed to her beloved coffee pot. “Give him a chance, Peter.”

“Okay.”

It wasn’t a complete lie. Peter would give him a chance, just as soon as he investigated and only if he couldn’t find anything on him. He hoped he would. His aunt deserved someone better than the idiot who talked only about himself all evening with a noodle hanging off his chin.

His investigation started later on that same day.

Peter sat cross-legged on the top of Otto’s apartment building while he ate his dinner, a slightly cold sandwich from Delmar’s. He picked it up on the way over, with the intention of being able to eat it when he got home, but this stake-out was taking longer than he expected. It only served to prove Peter’s suspicions. Otto was up to something nefarious. Obviously. There was no other reason for him to be away from his apartment all day long when he told May he was spending the day grocery shopping and doing laundry.

He waited hours on that rooftop, watching the city below him and listening to all its sounds, only to finally tire out and head back home empty handed. Without any evidence. He hadn’t been entirely sure what he expected to find there, anyway.

Peter crawled through his bedroom window, then heard it. He ditched his suit for regular clothes and discovered the reason Otto hadn’t returned home to his apartment. He was here. On the couch with May. Watching a movie with his arm around her.

“Oh hey, Peter,” said May. She paused the movie, and both pairs of eyes stared him down. “I didn’t know you were home. Do you want to watch this with us?”

“He probably doesn’t have the time,” said Otto. It was lighthearted, but it grated at Peter’s nerves.

He dismissed himself. Politely. He could foreign politeness just as well as Otto could pretend to be meek.

Peter paced in his room. Back and forth, back and forth, thinking fast and frantic. He stopped when his thoughts did, when his he lifted his head from staring at the floor and his eyes fell over to his desk drawer. A new idea, like a spark, sent him barreling to his knees in front of the drawer. He yanked it open and searched through it, pulling out papers and graded homework from years before as it did.

But it was useless. They were all gone. A tracker would have been perfect, would have done his job for him, but they weren’t anymore left. Not in his drawer, or in his suit.

There was one more option but asking Mr. Stark for more trackers invited his questions. He collapsed on his bed, realizing he didn’t have much of a choice, and put his scheme against Otto off until Saturday.

It rolled around fast, and Mr. Stark hadn’t been kidding when he told him he’d be helping him this time around. Within five minutes of his arrival at the workshop, the two of them were side-by-side, shoulders nearly touching, face-up underneath the frame of the car. He passed him tools, explained to him what did what, and what to screw and where. It was almost like having a dad again, and it pushed Otto and the tracker to the very back of his brain.

He just wanted to enjoy the moment.

But when there wasn’t May and her boyfriend to worry about, his mind reverted back to worrying over the moment he confessed to Mr. Stark MIT wasn’t happening.

Thinking about not going ached like regret. He wasn’t just disappointing Mr. Stark, but himself. As fall got closer and closer, he realized more and more MIT was the perfect place for him. He didn’t understand how Mr. Stark knew that long before Peter, but none of it mattered. It didn’t change anything. He still couldn’t go.

He already declined the offer, and there were two very good reasons that went into that decision. The first was Queens. His city still needed Spider-Man. The second was more important. He couldn’t leave May. Who else would investigate and stalk her boyfriends, or eat Thai food on the couch while watching trash reality TV?

A nudge on his shoulder broke him out of his thoughts.

“Let’s take a break,” said Mr. Stark. They both scooted out from under the car and sat up. Mr. Stark threw a rag at him. Peter used it immediately, wiping off the black smudges he felt on his cheeks, then his hands. “How’s the situation with May and the new boyfriend?”

“His name is Otto,” said Peter. “He’s a tool.”

“Otto, huh? No wonder why you don’t like him,” Mr. Stark stood and walked over to a stool where his phone sat, leaving Peter to sit on the floor, using his hands as props to support the rest of his body.

Peter stared at the back of Mr. Stark’s head while he strolled through his phone. He figured it was now or never. To ask about those trackers, not for the college confession. He still had a couple of weeks until he would need to disclose that information, and he planned to procrastinate as long as possible. He found his voice, though it wavered when his request was said out loud, causing Mr. Stark to turn around and look away from the phone in his hand.

“Why? What for?”

“To track… someone,” said Peter.

Mr. Stark tilted his head at him. Forget being trapped under buildings. He was eighteen years old and one look from him turned him back into a guilty first-grader. It ruled out the possible scheme of pretending to be in Massachusetts in the fall. He’d never be able to pull that off.

“I got that,” he said. “Who?”

“No one important.”

He made a face like he didn’t believe him but walked away and returned with a handful of the tiny trackers despite his unanswered questions. He passed them to Peter, who had to stand to collect them. He shoved them in the smallest pocket of his bookbag.

“So, what is it this time?” he asked. “Man who thinks he’s a bird? Another lizard guy?”

“Nothing that like.”

He made the same face. It was every bit pinched as it was disbelieving, as if there were questions beating down a wall in his mind. Old Mr. Stark didn’t have that wall. He wouldn’t sat him down and demanded to know exactly what the trackers were used for. New Mr. Stark, who was inspired either by Pepper or a therapist, maybe both, let it go. He asked questions. He pried, but he didn’t stop him from making his own mistakes.

Sometimes Peter missed the old version. He felt less guilty about lying to helicopter Mr. Stark.

“If you’re ever in over your head,” he said. He twirled a screw-driver in his hand. “I’m just a phone call away.”

Peter looked at him, really looked at him and saw the scruff, dirt and grime instead of the billionaire wearing a suit and sunglasses. It was the workshop effect. Everything became a little more real, a little more transparent under the grease and dust, and under the dim lighting, Mr. Stark was just someone who worried too much about the people he loved.

And also, someone who was getting better and better at heaping on the guilt without even trying to do it.

The golden opportunity to put a tracker on Otto presented itself later on that same evening. Him and May were close on the couch, in their usual positions, as Peter stomped through the living room, still covered in the grease and dust of the workshop and swallowing another bout of stomach acid. They didn’t notice him, so he didn’t even try to be discrete when he slipped a tracker inside the seams of Otto’s coat.

He shouldn’t have left it out in the open like that. Just hanging on a kitchen chair.

After that, all he needed to do was wait, and he didn’t even have to do that for very long.

Otto excused himself from their movie night unusually early. As soon as Peter heard the apartment door shut, he pulled his mask on and watched the blue dot which represented Otto move across the map. It didn’t go to the dodgy apartment building where he lived. It went to the labs where he worked. Awfully late to be going to work. Unless that was his angle. To access the lab when the rest of the employees weren’t around and couldn’t see what he was doing.

Only one way to find out.

He suited up and followed the beacon to the labs. He was done pretending to be polite, so slamming through one of the windows and shattering glass everywhere as he tumbled into the building didn’t seem like an imposition. No alarm sounded, either, which was an added bonus.

The last thing he needed was for him to be tipped off about Spider-Man’s arrival.

He followed faint noises to find Otto, and when he got to the room he was in, he crawled up the wall and stuck to the ceiling, watching upside down as Otto maneuvered around the lab, unaware of his presence. Nothing seemed special. Nothing seemed to catch Peter’s eyes, until Otto walked over to a place in the lab he wouldn’t have known to look if he hadn’t gone over there.

He strapped himself into a harness, and from that harness, gained four new arms. Mechanical ones, with claws at the ends of them, and they were snapping. It concerned Peter that all four of them were extending upward, in his direction, but in retrospect it probably should’ve concerned him a little bit more. It just took one sudden movement, one metal tentacle shooting up fast and abrupt inches from where Peter hung to send him somersaulting to the ground.

He stuck the landing with his shoulders stuck out for balance, and looked up, looked into the eyes of Otto Octavius and saw the same something nefarious he saw the first time he met him. Granted, it was hard to take seriously with four mechanical claws floating around and snapping at him.

“What are you supposed to be?” asked Peter. Maybe Mr. Stark wasn’t too far off with his guesses that had to do with animals. “An octopus?”

“Glad you could finally find the time to join me, Peter.”

“Wait, what –“

“You’re really not that great at keeping secrets,” said Otto. His eyes drifted off to the equipment to his left, then back to Peter. “So, I’m sure you’ll understand this isn’t personal. I just can’t have you running off and telling Iron Man about all this.”

It was over before it started. While Peter was busy looking at all the things Otto didn’t want to Mr. Stark to find out about. He didn’t know what they were, or what they did, or why it would mean trouble for him if Iron Man discovered it, but that didn’t stop him from attacking.

Fast and abrupt just like the first time. He managed to dodge the first, but the second caught him in his belly and swatted him against the wall. He crashed to the floor, awkward and ungraceful, and thanks to his upgraded hearing, could hear the bone in his leg snapping before he even felt it. But the pain did come and distracted him from the third metal arm that lifted him up and pinned him against the wall.

It was Otto’s real hands that punched him, hit him hard in the stomach, on the face, but all Peter felt was the pain in his leg. He kept his focus there when the punching stopped, when Otto’s hands came up around his neck and cut off his air supply.

He was about to get killed by a man who couldn’t eat without getting food on his face.

That’s when he heard it. The gloriously familiar sound Iron Man made when he hovered, followed by his voice.

“Get your grubby tentacles off my kid, kraken.”

Peter was dropped to the floor, on his pitifully broken leg, but he felt better than fine. For all the aches and pains, even the stabbing one in his leg, he knew this was a fight that wouldn’t last long, either. There was no stomach acid as he watched Otto attempt to smack Iron Man around with those ridiculous metal arms. Mr. Stark wasn’t distracted, was ready for it and simply blasted him away with his repulsor beam. He flew across the room, crashed into the wall the same way Peter had and thudded to the floor.

Mr. Stark wasn’t done, though, even if Otto was no longer in any condition to fight. He didn’t stop until every single one of the metal arms were disbanded, snapped in half or otherwise disposed, and it isn’t until Otto is knocked unconscious that Mr. Stark lands next to Peter.

“Mr. Ssstark –“ said Peter. “I - I didn’t call.”

“Yeah, well, you’re just lucky you weren’t the only one tracking someone tonight, kid,” he said. He kneeled down next to him. “What’s the damage?”

“Leg’s broken.”

He felt the pain then, all at once, as if saying it out loud made it present. He gasped, and Mr. Stark winced. He turned his head, leveled another glare at Otto, and for a second, Peter thought he might go back over there, kick him while he’s down and unconscious, but the moment passed. Mr. Stark wrapped his arm around Peter’s shoulder’s, and very carefully, put his other arm under his legs, eventually scooping him off the ground.

Any energy he usually would have spent protesting being carried is focused towards the pain radiating throughout his body. He shut his eyes and hoped to pass out while they went soaring into the night’s sky.

They put him on painkillers.

Mr. Stark’s medical team were quick about that one, and the drugs were fast. They were both speedy and strong. He didn’t remember much about the process of having his leg set and casted, but he did remember voices murmuring up above him. He couldn’t quite hold on to them, but they were talking, amazed, about his healing abilities. It would take just a couple of days for his leg to be back to normal, and less than that for the bruises to disappear.

Until then, however, he was laid up on Mr. Stark’s couch. His leg was propped up, in a blue cast and there were lots of pillows supporting his back, so he could sit up without effort. Everything came back into focus. The blurriness in his head cleared up as the pain started to trickle back in. Then he remembered.

He had just one concern.

“I need to call May,” said Peter, and to his shock, a voice answered back.

“Already done.”

He slowly, carefully, turned his head and saw Mr. Stark in the recliner, staring at him.

“Don’t worry,” he told him. “I broke the news to her about the octopus, too.”

“Is he –“

“-He’s alive,” said Mr. Stark. “Uh, he just won’t be doing very much for a while, and he definitely won’t be calling your aunt back.”

Relief flooded through muscles that should’ve ached. Mission accomplished, but it didn’t feel as good as he thought it would. It sort of sucked, actually. That May started dating again just to get stuck with Otto. That her happiness got delayed again. It only served to reinforce his already made-up about staying in the city for school.

He looked at Mr. Stark. It was the perfect time for the truth about college. While he was drugged out and the consequences didn’t seem as bad, and while he was bruised and broken to the point Mr. Stark would feel guilty if he started to yell.

“I have to tell you something,” said Peter.

Mr. Stark looked up from his phone and didn’t miss a beat. “I already know you think you’re not going to MIT, Peter.”

Maybe it was still the drugs, but he didn’t quite catch what was said, or at least the implication behind what was said.

“W-what?”

“You’re a terrible liar,” he said. “And I knew you would end up getting cold feet, so I paid someone at the admissions office to keep an eye out for your acceptance status. When you declined, idiot move by the way, I just had the evidence destroyed and sent in the deposit for your first semester instead.”

It was said so simply. As if it were completely normal behavior to employ spies at a university, and as if semesters at MIT were cheap. This was helicopter Mr. Stark. He never really left. He just tried to change during the moments that really mattered, or the ones that didn’t. Peter couldn’t figure out which way it went, but either way, he felt the only appropriate reaction was anger. Only as much anger as the medication would allow, though.

He still felt pretty fuzzy.

“…you can’t just do that,” said Peter. “You can’t just accept on my behalf and force me to go.”

“Sure I can, I already did.” said Mr. Stark. He leaned back in the recliner. “Tell me that you really don’t want to go. Convince me, and I’ll pull my deposit and put it towards a school closer to home.”

Peter didn’t say anything. He couldn’t. He, apparently, wasn’t capable of lying even without the drugs, so he didn’t see a point in trying. All that was left was the truth.

“I can’t leave May, or Queens.”

“Your aunt is more than capable of protecting herself,” said Mr. Stark. “And you know she wouldn’t want you to sit out of college her behalf. She would never forgive herself, and besides, I’ll still be here.”

“Spider-Man –“

“-will take a break.”

Peter didn’t attempt anymore arguments. There wasn’t any Mr. Stark wouldn’t easily counter, and there wasn’t any energy left in him to try it. He was going to MIT in the fall. It was inevitable now, and different, because he could blame Mr. Stark for it every time he felt like it was selfish. It was a better gift than paying his tuition, really. That he could go to the college he wanted and push all the guilt on Mr. Stark for manipulating the situation.

He’d still feel bad about leaving Aunt May, of course, but he figured Mr. Stark was right. She would feel bad if he didn’t go, and he’d end up feeling terrible either way.

The conversation was officially over, so Mr. Stark provided him with more painkillers, a cold-pack for his swelling eyes, a glass of water and a demand for him to get some rest. The pills made him sleep, and when he woke up, he felt better. Still hurt, but better than the night before. Well enough even to get up and try to move around on the crutches.

He found Mr. Stark in the workshop and stopped, sudden and shocked, at the shiny car sitting in the middle of the room.

“Mr. Stark,” said Peter. He leaned on the crutches, putting his full weight there instead of his good leg. “How long was I asleep?”

“Just the night,” said Mr. Stark. “And half the day. Why?”

“What is that?”

“Your car,” he said. “Don’t you recognize it?”

“No. This… this can’t be the same car.”

The car they’d be working on was rusty and falling apart despite all their effort. This one looked new and fast.

“Maybe I put some custom parts in it,” he said. There were a few seconds of silence. “Maybe I put a lot of custom parts in it.”

“May’s going to flip.”

“She’s not going to be thrilled about those bruises, either, genius, but I figured it’ll be better if we get it over with all at the same time.”

Peter nodded, and Mr. Stark was correct. She wasn’t thrilled with his broken leg, or his black-eyes and bruises. He had returned to the couch in the penthouse living room when she arrived. She sat next to him, looking him over, and apologized.

“I should’ve known,” she said. “I’m so sorry, Peter.”

Hearing her apologize hurt worse than any of his injuries. This one was Peter’s fault. Otto turned out to be crazy only by chance. He only stumbled into some scheme he didn’t even understand, and next time, he knew that wouldn’t be the case. That eventually May would date someone normal, who wasn’t Ben, and he’d have to accept that, from miles away in Massachusetts.

Thanks to Mr. Stark’s meddling he didn’t have much time left in Queens. Just a few weeks.

“I’m sorry too,” said Peter. “I promise I won’t go all Mr. Stark on you next time you date someone… unless there really is –“

May narrowed her eyes.

“I promise I won’t stalk your next boyfriend.”

“That’s all I can ask for,” said May. She looked around the big, empty living room. “Where’s Tony? He said he had something to show me…”

Peter happily directed her to the workshop, happy for once someone else was in trouble and not him. That he had nothing to do with the under authorized upgrades on his graduation present. He watched her disappeared into the elevator, preferring the couch over front seats to seeing May berate Mr. Stark about the car. He needed the rest to heal, and anyway, he was pretty sure he’d be able to hear the shouting that he knew was coming.

#irondad #my fic #irondad fic #Peter parker #Tony stark #whump #Peter Parker whump #Peter vs may's boyfriend #retro post

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